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no time management

Monday Jul 31, 2006

See, I love the fact that front page news in Australia is because one reality TV star said to another reality TV show star that she loved her.

Rupert has a lot to answer for Actually no, let’s just blame people like myself who actually read the damned thing and cared (even if it was just a tiny little bit)

It’s quite strange how quickly the feelings about my job can change. I got handed a project to essentially completely upgrade and overhaul the network that I manage. I get to implement technology I’ve been pushing for for the last 12 months.

I think maybe the control freak in me just needed a plan or a goal, in the same way that I’d be lost without a task or to do list at work I need an imaginary one for my head. All I know is I know I’m working on something at work that’s high profile and what a lot of techs dream about (sell out) and I’m planning a holiday to Fiji for later this year because good lord I need a holiday.

Plus Fiji has beaches, and sun, and drinks with little umbrella’s in it and I want to combine those three elements with books. And that’s it. No mobile, no Blackberry, no laptop. Nada.

The “Not Drinking Ever, Ever Again” Stance has softened slightly, to the point that I’ll heading our for cocktails tomorrow. But like everything I say I totally meant it a the time. But I stand by the I’m never drinking that volume of alcohol again, purely because I’m pretty sure I lost stomach lining and maybe my liver. And I like my liver and stomach lining. Drinking excessively is neither big nor clever.

No really, except if it’s someone else who then blogs about the ensuing fuck up’s. And then it’s amusing.

I must go and drink my 5th coffee of the day and then type emails really really fast. Someone people do effective time management at work, I dose myself up on excessive amounts of caffeine so I can do a million things at once. Different strokes and all that.


never again

Sunday Jul 30, 2006

I am never drinking again. Ever.

All I know is I went to my local pub to have a couple of drinks Saturday afternoon, and I got home 12 hours later with bruises on the pads of my feet, without my wallet and terribly inebriated.

I woke up at 7 a.m. to a phone call from the man who found my wallet, I had no idea I’d lost it plus I’m pretty sure I was still drunk when I took the call. Bonus – all of my cards and and money were still there.

Best chat conversation ever this afternoon though, because when a man says, “I mean, I’m man enough to take “kitten”, but there’s no way in fuck you’d get away with that in public” you know it’s a good conversation. (I need to find a new nickname as he’s currently kitten which is probably highly highly offensive to any heterosexual male)

Yesterday was out having breakfast with an old friend, we worked out that of the group of 7 girls we went to school with 5 are married/or breeding. It’s quite odd, Beth and I are the only single ones and both of us in the city. I imagine it would be different if we’d stayed in the town we went to school in, but I can’t see myself as anywhere near ready for the children part. I think when you lose your wallet after a 12 hour drinking session it’s a pretty big sign – NOT READY.

Then we tried to do the 7 kilometre Bay walk, but got terribly lost and ended up going in the other direction. Who knew the Bay walk was only in one direction.

Of course Saturday ended at Retro, dancing to terribly bad 70’s, 80’s music. It is the only way to end a terribly, terribly drunken night.

Ergh, never again.

beginning (civilised no?)

middle (the lights turned red for some reason)

I have no idea where this hat came from, I’m pretty sure I didn’t wear it in public. (Fingers crossed)


illogical

Friday Jul 28, 2006

I do love going for drinks on a Friday afternoon, I especially like the fact that I can have a grand total of two schooners of beer (like half a litre, or thereabouts) and I feel pleasantly sloshed.

There are many benefits of being a cheap drunk, including, but not limited to – it being cheap to get drunk (obviously), I’m done by 9 so I tend not to get hangovers and uhh, that’s about it.

There are some things that we, as girls, do that make no sense. Well really most of what we do is confusing at best and completely insane at worst, but follow me here. The single biggest one I don’t understand is this –

After sleeping with a man, presumably naked, a woman will get out of bed going to great efforts to cover up before he can see her.

*Ahem*

He has already seen you naked. He has already seen pretty much all of you there is to see, literally, and now you get shy and grab a sheet?

In what universe does this make any bloody sense? I’m sorry but if someone’s seen me naked (deliberately anyway) then they’ve seen me naked and I’m not sure how insecurities have loop holes where certain kinds of nakedness is fine, but others not.

There’s another thing that I noticed today with the boys I work with, a couple of them complimented me on a what I was wearing today but were surprised when I thanked them and that was all. When I asked what was that about they answered they weren’t used to girls not arguing or disagreeing when they’d been given a compliment.

I’m sorry but if someone goes out of their way to notice something and then to compliment me on it damn straight I’m going to say thank you and accept it. To do otherwise is either lack of manners or a blatant attention grab, i.e. disagree with the compliment in the hope it will cause the complimenter to just reiterate and expand.

No wonder boys think we play games.

Tomorrow involves breakfast with an old friend and the Bondi to Bronte walk in the afternoon, in place of the gym (score!). Saturday night may involve a sleepover and Sunday is for the sleeping.


hot

Wednesday Jul 26, 2006

I particularly like the way it looks like I’m saying something involving multiple curse words, I also like the fact that my eyes are closed, and that my hair is almost completely taking over my face, and I like the mutiple necklaces.

No really.

Today was good. I worked, I flirted, I ate McDonalds for the first time in maybe years – oh Filet of Fish how I love you.

I’ve been trying to do a meme Steph tagged me on but it appears I’m allergic to them. I’ll try but if reading facts about me, bores me how can I subject you gorgeous kids to it?

(I’d still make out with Steph if I was into breasts though rather than penis’. )

I think you have to admit you may swear too much when another colleague comments on never hearing you swear and before you can response you hear laughter coming from all different directions of cubicles. I’m only a reactive swearer though, I try not to drop the f or c bomb in every day conversation. It tends to be at work when I see someone calling I don’t want to speak to that I do the cursing.

I just spent a whole paragraph justifying my potty mouth.

How long are you able to write off drinking 3+ days a week before it turns into alcoholism, mid 20’s, late 20’s, early 30’s? I wonder sometimes, I’m one of the youngest people in my department yet it appears it’s not really an age correlation but a relationship indicator. People who are in their early 20’s in relationships are old women compared to the early 30’s single people. And it tends to be across all age groups.

So it looks that based on my completely proven theory being in a relationships makes you a teetotaler and being single makes you a lush.

(Oh and Marissa Cooper dying? Anti-climatic much? She’s 17 and has already been an alcoholic, a junkie, a run away, attempted suicide yet she dies in a relatively unspectular car accident?)

(I still cried my heart out though)


dirty hipster

Monday Jul 24, 2006

Right now it’s Monday afternoon. And rather than sitting at my desk drinking my, hmmm, 6th coffee of the day I am at home, on my lounge, under a blanket watching a DVD.

Life is officially sweet.

I’ve had a houseful of people for the last couple of days. And I, surprisingly, haven’t been weirded out. I actually asked my mother where I got my control freak nature and it’s all her baby. So thanks for those gene’s, luckily the great rack genes make up for it.

I drank far too many martini’s at Kuleto’s last night. Because, really, how are you supposed to turn down chocolate martini’s?

My Mum has been staying with me and it’s been lovely. Heading out for breakfast this morning it reminded me that’s it’s nice to have normal contact with my parents every now and then without having to fly across to the other side of the country.

Saturday was spent having beers and burgers at another pub in Newtown. Although Newtown is dirty and full of filthy hipsters it’s an awesome $5.00 cab ride home, you can go to the pubs in thongs (the feet kind) and jeans, and it has amazing food and bars. So call me a (not cool) dirty hipster.


winter/summer

Friday Jul 21, 2006

Around this time 12 months ago I was overseas in England and Paris.

I remember being supremely shocked when I came back from my first jet lagged day out and was sun burnt. Who the fuck get’s sunburnt in London?

(That’s York in the photos, beautiful no?)

I should stop buying Vogue, I only end up feeling melancholic at the end of it. Well that and terribly poor.

I had an ambush teleconference today at work, you know where someone calls and says, “Lucy, just transferring you through to blah blah and blah blah” and before you know it you’re on the phone with maybe a client, maybe a staff member and you’re ambushed.

Grrr.

I wish the song Hallelujah” would stop being played every time some soap opera character dies. For serious. Marissa Cooper does not deserve Jeff Buckley. If I was in charge of The OC soundtrack she’d get something more suitable for her, Pussy Cat Dolls or something equally trashy. Plus can she please die already? It’s all I ask.

People who describe themselves as wacky or zany are just plain wrong, they should just stick to fire twirling and going on Big Brother.

All of these boys who I’m around at the moment smell delicious. It’s really quite rude, and mean.

I get to see my mother on Sunday for the first time since Christmas (i think). Which is far too long between seeing one of your parents.

My mother will probably bring home a Canandian cowboy for me to marry. Because in her head a doctor and a cowboy have the same desirability as a son in law.

Here’s some advice for people who complain about their boyfriends/girlfriends regularly or incessantly – If you do not draw a negative picture of your partner I will not form a negative image of them either. If you don’t want me to know how much of a douche he acts sometimes, or how much of a whiny nag she is, please don’t tell me.

I’ve got no problem with you venting because that’s pretty much my role as your friend, but when it’s regular and I hear more negative than positive it’s kinda a natural progression for me to form an opinion of them. So yeah, save it if you don’t want me to have a negative image of them.

My tremendously comfortably bed is calling me (I’m still trying to make myself sleep on only one side of the bed, rather than right down the middle. My training is not going so well, but when there’s a boy in the bed I seem to be ok.) So I guess I’ll be sprawling again tonight.


the end

Tuesday Jul 18, 2006

Not to get all valley girl on you but today SUCKED.

I was awake at 5:30 again, trying to get back to sleep. Then as I was drifting back around 6 the fucking planes started.

I live in the inner west of Sydney which unfortunately is plagued by overhead airport noise.

So I get up and it’s pouring, and I mean, pouring rain outside. And it’s cold and windy. Now, I’m not sure if it’s just me, but windy weather makes me angry. Like really angry. So I get dressed, all the while thinking of excuses why I should just message my boss and call in sick (high point – when I’m taking a sick day I don’t have to call anyone I just SMS my boss, he is awesome). But alas, the work ethic kicks in.

So it’s cold, it’s fucking wet, my shoes are soaked and it’s BLOODY windy and MY HAIR IS A GODDAMN MESS.

Then I have a work lunch, another high point.

Then I get to do my monthly weigh and measure at the gym. I not only have not lost kilograms but lost no measurement and my body fat percentage is the same as last month.

I fucking hate the gym.

And the thing is I’ve actually being working really hard, and I know it’s only been 2 months but Jesus I go there 3 days a week, I eat really bloody well (no bloody chocolate and no *sob* almond croissants) and I get nothing out of it. I’d quit but I’m too bloody stubborn so I’ll keep going just to spite…….someone. Fuck, I don’t know the logic but you know.

So that was my day.

Actually no I forgot the best part. I was walking home from the gym, thoroughly disheartened and disappointed and it was freezing and then it started raining and the wind came back up and I got soaked.

So I cried.

The End

(Well the end of the woe is me post anyway)


the hot and the pants

Saturday Jul 15, 2006

I just spent a whole 2 minutes of my life getting a dropped mini M&M that had fallen down my top.

My life, it is full of excitement.

But I bought this today, which is kinda hot.



  

It always surprises me how grief sneaks up on you. I was looking at men’s pajamas today for myself and saw the same type we bought for my grandfather when he was sick. I’d forgotten about them and the image literally took my breath away.

I didn’t imagine I was over it, I just didn’t think the effects of it nearly 18 months later would be so visceral.

I received my first e-mail from someone who’d read a post and had a reaction to it, unlike hives I imagine. I am attempting to be blase. I don’t do blase and am terribly excited and impressed. I just have to reply and sound intelligent. So, uh Rob, you may be waiting a while for that.

I’m now officially a non smoker, I figure when I look at the single packet I still have in my house with almost a “why do you have that, you don’t smoke” thought that I’m good.

Oh and it appears I’m officially a nun.

Curse word of the week is – pants.

I.e. I trip over and exclaim Damn! Pants! Ow!

Beautiful no?

I once dated a boy who was generally a very sensitive, intelligent boy, but had been banned from playing soccer for a year or so because he’d headbutted another player. The thought of him still makes me weak in the knees.

Ditto Zidane.

Now, I abhor violence. I hate aggression and if he’d done it in any other context I’d be with those Family First type right wing nuts claiming his head.

But on a sports field with the men, and the excitement and the hotness, and the aggression and the grrr? To me that’s a completely different context.

That’s my theory why I think Zizou and the other boy are terribly appealing and I’m sticking with it.


oy

Thursday Jul 13, 2006

Who knew doing a normal work day could be so sweet?

I’ve been starting normal time, 7:30, but leaving at the normal time, 4:30, and I can’t get over how fucking fantastic it is.

Last night I cleaned my house and cooked a proper meal, watched some porn and had an early night.

I love it.

Although I had a fight with Beth yesterday. She left the country without kinda letting me know, she’d mentioned she had to go to NZ for work a couple of weeks ago but hadn’t mentioned it since. Then had to bail on catching up on Sunday and I only found out by sending her e-mail and getting an out of office reply.

Between that and the douchebag who finished our 3 year friendship by BY POSTING ABOUT IT ON HIS BLOG I feel a little tired of my friends.

So this no carbs thing is slightly crappy, another one of my terrible, terribly ideas. But we get to find out this weekend with the monthly gym assessment whether, like last time, Lucy has again –

– gained 2 kilograms (4.5 pounds)
– Increased her body fat again by 2 % (heh)
– But lost another 15 or so centimetres.

God, the suspense is killing me.

Oy.

I have to admit though that I can feel muscles, underneath it all. Give me another month or two and I’ll totally have those thighs I want that I can strangle a man with. In a good way.


could be worse

Tuesday Jul 11, 2006

So far this week I’ve –

– Narrowly missed a complete breakdown at work today. I decided that I’m only going to do the standard 9 hours a day, and my boss is supporting this if things take longer than usual and people complain. Awesome right? I always thought I had a lot of work to do, but it’s now been proven that I cannot do all my work in 9 hours a day. But I’ve made a plan, a goddamn plan that even though I frantically work every damn minute of my “normal” day to try and fit as much in I will follow. Until I have a breakdown.

– Hence the two bouts of crying today in the girls bathroom at work. Two! That’s double my all time record. And because I am nothing but logical I counted my pill container. I’m not even pre anything.

– I’m starting to hate my job and I’ve never thought I would.

– A friend of mine who I’ve been close with for years, actually he was the one who introduced me to blogging. We’ve gone through a lot, we no longer see each other for very good reason but we’ve remained in contact. I had a long 3 hour conversation with him Saturday night, and so was very surprised to read a post he wrote Sunday about his decision to end our friendship.

The irony of it being the post was also about how much he’d grown as a person to be a better friend and partner.

– Tool.

– Because I am a glutton for punishment I’ve given up carbs after midday. Call it peer pressure, I call it sheer bloody annoyance of the irritating gym freaks at work finally wore me down. All I do know is I just want some bloody pasta. And some risotto. Oh god and some fresh bread rolls.

– I suppose it could be worse, my best friend Beth just found out one of her friends is in love with her. But the friend is a girl and um, Beth likes the penis so that’s interesting to watch.


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