The Antilogy |

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Wednesday Jun 28, 2006

1. My mother got the date of her flight wrong so my sister and I got to the airport at 7:30 a.m. and called her to find out where she was and she was still at home. In Perth. Nice work Mum, good first half, jog it in.

I went home and slept for another couple of hours before working from home in the afternoon. Good day actually.

2. I think it’s fair to say that if I hear one more woman complaining about being a “strong, independent women” who are not getting the support they need I may just throw up. “Independent, strong women” are also known as stubborn pain in the arse’s. You try to offer support and you’re more likely to get a swift rebuff, or a lecture on how they can handle it just fine, thanks. And an admonition for thinking they can’t handle it. And then they complain because their spiky controlling nature won’t let them accept help, and when they do it’s only when and how they want. I’d consider myself a strong woman but enough bullshit.

3. I need to find more friends who are alcoholics. My friends are in politics, and with an election coming up they work 20 hours a day. Hence why I am not drinking anywhere near the amount I’d like to.

4. I spent hours today doing financial reports. I hate figures, my brain freezes up at the idea of a spreadsheet and I hate it. Hence the headache. And eye twitch.

5. I can’t believe I missed seeing my mum after 6 months.

6. I miss him.

7. I just worked out to see both the England and France soccer semi finals I need to be up on Saturday morning from 1 a.m. to 6 a.m. Which I imagine defeats the purpose of going to bed really. I guess it’s mainlining speed as a way of staying up then.

8. I have got to stop finding big guys with beards attractive, seriously, go see what Jason Mulgrew looks like and you’ll see my ideal guy. Seriously.

9. I think 25 is a good age, I’m enjoying it immensely. And for enjoying, see pain in the arse, trying bloody age. But things can only go up right?

9. Gah, I’m throwing on my old Placebo tshirt and going to bed.

the boys and the food.

Sunday Jun 25, 2006

I had a great day today. Went to the Good Food and Wine show, saw some great Australian chefs cook some amazing food. And sampled a buttload of delicous food and wine. Fyi – consume enough sample glasses of wine and you too can be pleasantly sloshed by 1 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. I love to cook and it’s a downside of living by yourself than I don’t get try out recipes on people other than myself.

I also ate gelato, that was cool.

I get to see my mother soon, she stops over on her way to Cananda Tuesday morning for a few hours so I’ll head to the airport to see her. I miss her, it’s been a damn long stretch this time – it was Christmas last time I saw her and I hate not being able to see her more. It’s one thing that hasn’t been tempered by age for me, that I always love to come home and see my parents, even if it’s only every 6 months or on the other side of Australia.

Boys who attend cooking shows, who are straight, are now my favourite boys. You let me kiss you and you cook for me? Best.Deal.Ever.

I haven’t made out with anyone in over a month now and I don’t like it. I’m tactile and I miss it. That and a warm back to spoon against.

That’s when I should’ve known the last ex wouldn’t work out. He didn’t like spoon. Should’ve known really.

I can’t wait until the World Cup is over, or at least until the Socceroo’s are knocked out. I was up at 2 this morning watching a match, I’ll be up again early Tuesday and I would just like these skeletor eye bags to go away and to sleep for longer than a 4 hour stretch. And Australia to win the World Cup. And a raise. And world peace.

burning hatred

Friday Jun 23, 2006

I have a new nick name at work.

Apparently I’m now called Velma.

I now know not to wear my glasses and the orangey cardigan to work.

I am terribly tired but I’m not going to say anything more about the Australia vs Croatia match other than it made me feel proud.

Oh and can these games totally not start at 11 p.m., 2 a.m. or 5 a.m. Because damn I am tired.

I am being a complete yuppie wanker tomorrow and going antique shopping. Shut up. I just want a goddamn picture frame that has some character to it, why should I pay a large amount for a new one that is faux rustic when I could actually buy a distressed……

I sound like a wanker so I’m stopping right there.

Oh and normally I try to avoid talking about work in work type detail but after spending 2 hours, and yes literally 2 hours – I have the call log to prove it, on the phone with Telstra this afternoon I think I’m qualified to say – Fuck you Telstra. Maybe the day you start hiring competent staff, start offering a far more cohesive service between your departments, start having the single tech looking after a job to completion, and stop disconnecting goddamn lines and then saying I asked for it to be done and maybe, just maybe people wouldn’t hate your corporation with a burning hatred. Really, I’m not paid enough to do that more than once a week. And there is nothing worse than an arrogant company assuming because they’re the largest provider in the market that they can treat customers as serfs.

Anyway I must drag my angry tired self to bed so I can get up again at 5 a.m. to watch Switzerland and South Korea.

I love the World Cup.


Wednesday Jun 21, 2006

I got told today that “having a conversation with you is like visiting a strip club.

I don’t even know what that means.

I skipped the gym tonight. It’s raining and cold and I would’ve had to have walked to the gym in said cold and rainy weather and I just couldn’t be arsed.

I’m looking at hiring old cabins on the beach for a week to go away and be a proper hermit with nothing but wine and books.

And I know it’s pms and it’s not healthy to be taking a week long holiday in solitude but god I’m tired and I’d like to.

There’s nothing more touching and tears inducing than having a conversation with your father who tries to cheer you up over the BoyWho rejection. Because “he is a man who will always love you and if they can’t see how wonderful you are then they didn’t deserve to have you in the first place.

And before you know it you’re slightly cheered up and loving your dad.

I’m going to have a bath with a glass of wine.

hairy, apparently

Monday Jun 19, 2006

There was a goth at my gym tonight, I tried to take a photo but I was scared she may set the hounds of hell on me, or whatever the hell they’re doing these days. A word of advice for the goth who wants to work out at a gym –


Even though your work out clothes are black, you’re still wearing a full face of goth make up while wearing tracksuit pants in a public place. In fact the purple eye shadow just makes you look kinda jaunty.

Which I imagine is not the look you were going for.

I’ve taken today off so I could watch the Australia vs Brazil game this morning. I had my coffee percolator ready to go, I had beer ready in case I felt like beer, I had my patriotic vibe and I had my lucky Socceroo underwear. Went to bed, set my alarm and woke up at 6 a.m. after sleeping through my 2 a.m. alarm.

Intense anger would be the only way to describe it. However as we lost I kinda got over it and am currently watching the replay at a decidedly non evil 2 a.m. hour.

The weekend spa retreat thingy was awesome. Except for the most painful bikini waxes I have ever experienced, but that does not need to be shared. I had a massage and fell asleep. I had a full body salt scrub which was like being rubbed down with sandpaper, but in a good way. And I think I drank my body weight in wine. And ate my body weight in pretty much everything else.

The hotel was beautiful, in a “The Shining kind of way. Huge and massive. And half the time, coming back to my room pleasantly sloshed late at night, I had to talk myself out of anxiety attacks because I was convinced a kid on a tricycle chanting Redrum would wheel around the corner.

I read too many crime books.

Plus apparently the Blue Mountains is cold. Sitting outside with the dirty filthy smokers we checked and it was 1.5 degrees (Celsius). Which to me, being a complete girl, is fucking cold.

Late last week I receive a drunken text message from the Beth, my best friend, saying –

“I bought you a present today. A ticket to see that dude, what’s his name, the hairy guy you like.”

Ahh, the hairy dude. I had no idea who the hairy dude is. I thought maybe Wolfmother, they’re kinda hairy. Maybe You Am I.

Turns out she bought me tickets to go see Chris Isaak.

Now I think he’s one of the sexiest men alive. But apparently he’s hairy. Or Beth takes crack.

irony, what?

Friday Jun 16, 2006

See even though I know all of you were probably right about the extra weight equaling muscles because measurements are down yada yada yada. But I am a girl and I have a very special and unhealthy relationship with scales and if I don’t like the number I will end up going to the gym every night this week.

So now I am very tired.

But I told my friend I couldn’t lend her the money, I lied as to why I couldn’t but $5,000 is $5,000 and I’m still a little uncomfortable that she asked. Especially when this is the same girl who lectured me on having adequate savings a few months ago. Irony, What?

Now that I’ve thought more about it it actually really irritates me. I’ve known this girl for 10 years, we lived together our first year out of home. We have very different lives but we’ve remained close. And it just makes me uncomfortable.


I’m heading off for a girls weekend involving a health spa thingy. We were going to book at the Golden Door and discovered they had a no alcohol policy which is funny when you meet some of my friends. So there will be massages and wraps and waxing and alcohol.

Also I am very clever and booked a salt scrub in after a bikini wax.

Now let me bold that for you, and booked a salt scrub in after a bikini wax. Who does that? Was I not aware of the pain exfoliating my skin will be after I’ve had all of the hair and some layers of skin ripped out? And why did nobody notice that I literally walk out of a waxing appointment into a full body exfoliating scrub and stop me!?

Anyway so it’s quite lucky that we’re allowed alcohol when you think about that.


Wednesday Jun 14, 2006

Today’s visit to the gym resulted in –

My first month’s weigh and measure thingy. How someone can put on 2 kilograms when they’re working out 4 times a week and generally watching what they eat is baffling. And yet my measurements lost a buttload of centimetres. I laughed, I got depressed. I vowed to start a proper diet tomorrow.

I strapped my knee tonight before working out. It occurred to me I may have strapped it a little too tight when my foot started to tingle. When I tripped over a piece of the carpet, because my leg totally didn’t get the message from the brain to move as it had lost all sensation, I knew it was time to go loosen it.

Having an argument with the gym woman. Apparently we are not able to weigh ourselves at the gym anytime outside of the monthly weigh in. I think this is lame and asked why. Apparently $70 a month does not mean you can use the facilities of a gym.

Realising that some people take working out far far too seriously. No doubt there is going to be hard work and sweating and redness and even disconcerting grunts. I do not need to see your O face when your lifting weights.

Getting irritated by the two women ahead of me loudly chatting away, exercising so half arsed even I thought they were slacking. I thought there was that thing that if you were able to have a conversation you weren’t working out hard enough no?

Non gym related stuff one of my closest friends today asked me for a loan. If it was $50 I wouldn’t mind, hell if it was $500 I’d give it to her. It’s $5,000 and I regret my initial yes.

Because I am clever it was a yes with a couple of caveat’s. The thing is it’s $5000 – that’s a lot of money. Plus I’m a little resentful that she’d ask such a large favour, especially considering she is well taken care of her by her husband. Plus she’s the one who lectured me a few months back on having savings. Ironic, no?

The thing that bothers me the most is this loan is being kept a secret from her husband because she mismanaged an existing arrangement.

Actually that right there totally made up my mind. I think I’m going to have to use one of the caveat’s to get out of this one. Lucky I am so clever to slyly put them in no?

If you already haven’t noticed I now end questions with a “no?” rather than just the goddamn question mark. Because apparently I flew back to France and did not realise it, no?


Tuesday Jun 13, 2006

I’m pretty sure I’m on the biggest lame streak of the year.

I’ve hurt my knee. To the extent that walking is painful, working out literally brings tears to my eyes and I’ll be going to physiotherapy later this week. Now I understand that this is karma for teasing mercilessly people who are gym freaks.

But for the love of fuck I’ve been going to the gym for a grand total of 4 weeks. 4 weeks. Who pulls a hamstring in 4 weeks?

Plus I go to an all female gym, it only does circuit training and I do an injury. How fucking embarassing. Good first half Lucy, jog it in.

I’m having a coffee at 10 p.m. and I’m pretty sure I’ll pay for it later.

Although I’m still terribly pathetic and “neurotic” (thanks Mark) I’m happy that at least this time I chose a nice boy, a boy who was lovely and respectful, who my friends actually like, who is awesome. And that I stopped it before it got awful. At least I learnt something, so it’s not all bad.

I also realised I’m not staying a quitter (smoking) because of will power. Oh no, I am the weakest person I know hands down. It’s out of sheer stubborn-ness. I refuse to have a cigarette purely because I am lazy, and to slip up now would mean I’d have to to go through the hard work again. Plus I totally did it already, I’m not doing the damn thing again.

In other news I have lost a kilo, and the girls are still perfect.

Every cloud and all that jazz.


Monday Jun 12, 2006

– I’ve decided quitting smoking is a complete rort. The reward for you giving up a habit that is comforting and stress relieving is getting fat.

“No really, well done! Now here’s 2 kilo’s for you. Although the girls are in great shape your arse just got a little bit closer to being able to serve tea off.”

– When you arrange to have breakfast with someone, i.e. “I’ll call you when I get up and we’ll arrange a time”. Calling at 1 p.m. instead and saying “Sorry, got up and did some stuff this morning, but felt like going back to sleep, sorry!” makes you a selfish cow. And this was my best friend Beth, yeah cheers.

– I almost kissed the boy at work who said that he didn’t find Mischa Barton’s figure attractive. Every now and then it’s nice to hear there are boys out there who are into actual breasts and arse.

– In a bizarre case of timing I received a phone call with a boy I used to see late last week, it was awesome to be able to chat with him about TheBoyWho and convince me I’m not a hideously unattractive girl who’s doomed to be single forever (let’s just write this conversation as me being a little fragile k)

– I rearranged all of my furniture around today, needed a change.

– I think it’s fair to say that I’m a little crabby at the moment. I’m just finding it very hard to build up any kind of tolerance or patience with everyone. I haven’t spoken with my parents in a couple of weeks, work kids I’m paid to get along with so I have to but even friends I’m finding it hard to be civil to. I’m assuming this is all coming back to the blessed rejection but good lord people are irritating me atm. And I have a weekend away for Beth’s birthday this weekend with 5 of her friends and I’m hoping I can shake this off before then. Otherwise people may die.

Which would be bad, right.


Thursday Jun 8, 2006

So because I am a walking cliche I was going to write the obligatory “Why doesn’t he *sob* love me, waahhhh!!” post.

And trust me I’m there. I’ve eaten a chocolate croissant, I’ve cried in my work bathroom’s, on the walk home from the station tonight and when I got home, I used a busy day at work as an excuse to not go to the gym, well that and I’ve hurt my knee to the point that running on it makes me feel physically nauseous, I’ve narrowly avoided having a cigarette and I miss him because he would usually cheer me up when I felt this low.

But I’m not in contact with him, for so very many reasons. At the moment it’s temporary, I need space to work out stuff in my head. But also to figure out remaining friends with him is a good idea.

The really annoying thing is I don’t need the time to think about that though because it is not good for me to remain friends with boys I like.

Because this is how it will turn out.

– I will most likely make out/fool around with him,
– we will become quasi girlfriend/boyfriend and be in a relationship in everything but title,
– we will speak to each other for hours each day,
– we will visit each other and share beds and spoon,
– then he may get a girlfriend and it will break my heart.
– But I’ll totally pretend I am ok with it,
– I will obviously not be ok,
– And then it will become messy, and dysfunctional and unhealthy and bad.

So yeah. RIP TheBoyWho.

Until my head matches the nonchalance of this glib piece of writing I’m going to be working and sleeping in that particular order.

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