The Antilogy |

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Wednesday Nov 29, 2006

I always find that I’ll be in a funk for weeks at a time with no mention of it here because dour is boring. And then I write about it and guaranteed the next day I’ll be feeling good.

Which means the only way out of these states is to turn this page into a cutter/Live journal type/emo thing to ensure my real life mood stays up.

Last night was trivia (we totally won) and I saw the boy who actually has a crush on me. RG would be happy to hear he is tremendously geeky, a big guy with a beard but who is 22 and far too geeky even for me. But hey, I rarely get boys who think I’m cool so it’ll do.

I’m back on the ‘healthy eating’ plan that I like to call the evil starvation diet so I’m pretty sure beer isn’t on my daily intake.

And I imagine skipping dinner for two beers is definitely not a clever grown up decision. Oh no.

Yet I’m pretty sure that’s what will happen.

(Except I had a beer last night and a couple of wines with Beth after work tonight)

I have my work Christmas party coming up and it’s formal attire. Now I don’t like formal attire as a general rule. I’d put it down to some good reason but it’s just because, well, it’s so much effort really. But I stole a gorgeous dress from Beth that looks surprisingly nice and I just need heels.

But then I have to be down in Melbourne the next morning for an upgrade so maybe I can get out of it in total. More than likely my boss will make me come to the party and then fly out first thing hungover and cold and miserable to Melbourne.

Because, you know, that’s what bosses do.

I’ve been reading a blog of a boy who says lovely things about his girlfriend. It’s slightly off putting realising I know he cheated on his girlfriend. Unfortunately with me. But that’s a story for another day when I don’t feel like an awful person.

This weekend involves work Saturday morning then I’m spending the day at the beach getting some sun. And yes, today was a good day and things are better.

Oh and good lord i can’t believe I forgot why I had such a good day, I bought tickets to see Noel Gallagher do a solo accoutstic gig at the Enmore Theatre. Oh Man I am excited.

a break

Monday Nov 27, 2006

The extent of socialising this weekend was limited to meeting Beth and R for breakfast on Saturday morning in Newtown. Despite having a nice morning even that was an effort.

As you can guess I’m terribly anti-social at the moment and I’m not sure really how to get out of it. Or if I want to.

Living by yourself it’s easy to do this, I adore my apartment. I love my house and it’s very much a sanctuary for me.

I’d say I need a break and I’d be right, I’m tired all the time but being at work nearly 12 hours a day hasn’t given me any recovery time from the insane first month at work. When I’m not at work I just want to sleep.

I know this kind of thing is normal and it’ll pass and all of those other pithy sayings. I just don’t want to be like this in 5 years time, I’m not sure if it’s career (although I get paid well for doing a job I’m relatively good at) I’m not sure if it’s personal (I think I expect them to be mind readers when I’m like this, yet stay at home and don’t see them and don’t give them a chance) and really I’m actually doing pretty well.

I think I just need a holiday.

And now that Fiji may be off the cards for March, thank you bloody military leader and your damn coup, I’m not sure what it will be but dammit there will be one.

There’s an enforced break over Christmas at work and I’m so very very pleased about that, 10 whole days off is just heaven to me at the moment.

I think I’ll spend half of it with the relatives and meeting my new niece, and the other half at the beach drinking beer.

Oh yes, it will be sweet.


Thursday Nov 23, 2006

– Ignore the fact that I just posted a picture of my arse (and some plumbers crack to soften the deal) on the internet and, like me, rejoice in the beauty that is baggy arsed jeans. Combine them with tshirts and thongs, after a day in a suit and torturous pointy shoes and I have reached zen.

– My swear word for the week (and it’s actually been a favourite for months) is knacker. Knacker is slang for like an Irish gypsy. In fact think of Brad Pitt’s character in Snatch (partial to periwinkle blue) and that’s a knacker. At Beth’s Dads 50th party last weekend her Dad heard me say it and was so proud he came over and gave me a hug and kiss. And then called me a gobshite. Because he’s Irish and mean like that.

– I detest when people are late. It reeks of rudeness, selfishness and a disregard for someone else. And yes I mean that. And yes I waited half an hour for a friend tonight and then got a call saying hey, I’m going to be another twenty minutes, sorry! I want to smack someone. Preferrably the person who’s keeping me waiting for no bloody good reason.

– I don’t have many plans for this weekend. I’m having a drink with the gays tomorrow night, and I plan to go out for breakfast. And hopefully a sleepover and more spoon but that’s doubtful. And probably just keep watching my Arrested Development DVD’s and sleeping, because that’s all I want to do lately.

– And obviously beer, because really.

yes, that one

Tuesday Nov 21, 2006

I had today off work and it was sweet.

Except for a doctors appointment for blood tests, it was sweet.

The tests were no big deal, I’ve been run down and tired lately and my doctor made me come in to get stuff checked out. I suppose glandular fever plus weird blood levels means your doctor is particularly pro-active.

I hate needles. Not the pain because really, it’s over in 10 seconds. Just the actual thought of a sharp piece of metal being forced through my skin really really squicks me out. Plus the amount of blood that my delightful doctor takes seems way too much. I mean surely a drop or two is enough to be tested?

I make her give me a lolly, normally reserved for 5 years and their booster shots. I don’t care, if she’s going to drain my life force then I deserve some sugar.

I’m pretty sure I’m going to take a boy sabbatical. Actually let me know clarify, I’m going to take a hiatus from the boys I now have in my life. New boys are fine.

Actually do you remember a post from a while back about a boy who was meant to take me on a picnic but never called? And then I wrote a ranting diatribe? Yes that one.

Turns out he was actually horrifically hungover and ended up sleeping until 4 p.m. on the day, and was too embarassed to call after he’d already stood me up.

Now I may be hopelessly naive, stupid and a glutton for punishment but I’m probably going to see him again. Will it end badly? Maybe. Is it better than me keeping on seeing bearded boy, knowing I love him and nothing will happen and putting myself through that again, and again? Infinitely So yeah, I’ll let you know how that goes.

Or the next post will be how I am thoroughly shit at choosing nice men after he didn’t call again. Whatev.

oi vey

Sunday Nov 19, 2006

– I am terribly, dreadfully hungover.

– I went for a quick nap at 3 p.m. this afternoon, and woke up half an hour ago. I could still go back to bed and sleep.

– What do you do when your best friends boyfriend is really fucking irritating? Annoying to the point of not wanting to hang out with him, and therefore her as he comes out most of the time with us. This is bad, Beth is my favourite person in the world hands down. And I actually get on really well with him, we joke that we have more in common than them. We talk about music and movies and comic books and he’s very funny and cool. But horrifically loud, and obnoxious when drunk. Since I spend a lot of time with them when we’re drunk this is becoming a problem. So the options are either suck it up because she likes him, and since she’s best friends with me we know she has great taste. Well really there’s no other choice here. Shit.

– I woke up to delightful spoon on Saturday morning with a big bearded guy. I love big bearded guys, it’s my thing.

– I went to a 50th birthday party last night and I think I drank at least half a case of beer. And although Pure Blond beer is sweet and low carb I wanted to die this morning. Hence the 5 hour nap this afternoon.

– I am not looking forward to going to work tomorrow.

– The curly hair/straight hair dilemma as been solved. Beth’s brother, who is delicious, pulled me aside last night and very seriously went,” Don’t straighten your hair, your curly hair is the shit and I want to make out with you when your hairs curly.” So once this sproingy hair business has grown out a little more I’m going back to curls. The world needs more curls. And except for the fact that my curls always look post-shag messy I’m heading back to the dark side.

– I wore a frock last night, I looked terribly cute in a chubby kind of way. Alas the photos I have are not limited for public consumption, plus with all of my real life friends being non blog friendly I can’t post photos of them. Well plus in a particularly lovely one I have massive cleavage and I’m doing my Tina Turner impression. Which without a doubt is terribly funny for me but does not make me look normal. (But if you know where I display photos that aren’t saved to Blogger there may be a couple)

– I have got to stop drinking.

– For serious.

– Also Pirates of the Carribean two is awesome while hungover, as is many viewings of the Family Guy.

– Oh and thank you very much for the excellent comment responde to last post. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you kids are awesome.

the curls or the straight

Wednesday Nov 15, 2006

Question – as I’ve said before there are no curly haired girls in the city anymore. I could count on one hand the amount of girls i see with curls while in the city each day.

Due to a too short haircut I’ve been straightening my hair, until it grows out unless I want a sproingy front curl that sticks straight up, it needs to be straight. Except on weekends when I refuse to do it.

So, I ask you do you prefer the curly or straight hair? Do I singlehandedly lead the anti straight hair brigade, or do I keep doing it purely because it’s neater and more professional?

Speaking of straightening, I left mine on when I left for work today and came home to an apartment smelling of burning hair. Yesterday I left the iron on. I have got to stop thinking I can get ready for work in 20 minutes without leaving dangerous burny appliances on accidentally.

I hate working with boys sometimes.

And I hate feeling completely out of my depth at work.

But Saturday night is a party, where there will be a frock. Oh yes a frock. And alcohol.

We lost at trivia last night, what the fuck? We’ve won 7 weeks in a row. I hate losing, especially at trivia.

I think I’m having a successful platonic relationship with a boy. I’m not sure I really know how to react to it. I like it, it’s oddly easy and nice and enjoyable. Odd.

Anyway so yes, curly or straight?


Saturday Nov 11, 2006

5 minutes ago I saw a bug on my upper arm. Actually I just saw a black shape that totally could’ve been a bug, maybe a you know insect type thing that could bite me cause septecemia then death.

So I did the mad scramble to brush it off, couldn’t see it anymore, before having another brain explosion that maybe it had gone into my top. This lead to me feverishly ripping off my top and doing the mad body brush down.

Now considering the non drinking is also causing no making out this is the most wild undressing action i’ve had in a while. Actually since the episode last week which caused the nose gouge. But yeah, uh, turns out it was just a thread from my t-shirt.

Last night was dinner at Thai Potong in Newtown. Awesome food, nice night.

I’m also an aunt, well my cousin had a baby girl and we’ve claimed aunt status. I look forward to corrupting her at every possible opportunity.

I’m still sick, Friday night was me leaving work early (5 p.m., how wrong is it that that’s considered early) and coming home and dying of a fever. I left a message for Beth, “Mama needs help.Stop.Is dying of consumption.Stop.Come over and wipe my feverish brow.Stop.Also stroke my hair and bring ice cream.Stop.Luce”

Because she is my friend, and because she has a cold black piece of ice where her heart is, she told me she was sick too and I should come out for beer instead.

Terrible friend that one.

It’s the one downside of living on your own, no one to pat your hair (shut up) when you’re sick. Plus I sound like a drag queen at the moment which is ten times of hot.

My Dad bought me some of his home grown echinacea and made me some tea with it. It tastes like hot water with a slight hint of flowers. Tasty. But you know, flowery tea is better than nothing I suppose.


Thursday Nov 9, 2006

Half the IT department has been sick all week.

Today I feel like i’ve swallowed razor blades. This martyrdom attitude of sick people at work really bloody annoys me. Don’t come in and cough your disgusting germs on me, so when you’re bouncing around chirping how great you feel I’m down with your second hand virus.


But tonight after work I went to the library.

Did you know library’s open late on Thursday nights?

I didn’t know this and it pleased me so much I practically skipped out of there.

See and that right there is why I shouldn’t be allowed to write about my life. Nor leave my house.

As you may have noticed I haven’t spoken once this week about quitting my job. Mainly because I’m actually enjoying it (except for a complete fuck up yesterday where I walked out of a meeting sure about the direction of a project, sent out a roadmap to everyone involved, before getting a nice little email back going, “uh, that wasn’t the direction at all. Maybe we should have another meeting?”. Way to go Luce)

I leave by 6:30 every day, my boss is certifiable but in a very cool way, my colleague’s I’m still getting used to (IT boys are not known for their social skills) and soon I’ll be able to wean myself out of the suits and pointy bloody shoes that make my feet bleed! (For real)

I’ve officially traded in the life of an alcoholic for a hermit and I’m savouring every minute.

I skipped trivia for the second week in a row and I haven’t had a drink all week. Because really, right now i just want to go to bed early climb into bed and do that big happy sigh. And that’s it. Cook a nice meal and avoid pubs for a while. Plus Beth’s new inked boy is driving me fucking mental and I couldn’t be bothered with that either. Plus I’m all crazy scarred like with my nose gouge (totally a lie, it’s just a little scabby.) (See scars and scabs, everything covered here now)

So avoidance or hermitude it’s still working.

Except for smoking a cigarette with this throat of mine.

That was definitely not working for me.

little bit o’ gouging

Tuesday Nov 7, 2006

So today has been a very stupid 24 hours.

While doing my hair this morning I noticed more than my standard 2 grey hairs (I got them while studying law, thank you very much degree I never bloody finished for prematurely aging me).

In a very methodical but determined campaign I removed every grey hair I found.

I stopped when I’d pulled the 20th hair because my will to be young and carefree was slowly ebbing away.

I’m 25, I really shouldn’t be having grey hairs until like 30 at least, right?

To further embarrass myself I kept them.

That sounds creepy.

It’s not really.

So I ended up being late for work, all because I wanted a creepy momento.

Then I went for a walk last night and decided to pull out my MP3 player (I, on principle, refuse to buy an Ipod. Don’t ask)

Last night was a beautiful night and I was actually excited to be exercising (so lame) and Blur was playing and life was good and I found myself singing along.

Until I bumped into a nice looking man walking the other way who caught me in the middle of a terribbly off key version of ‘Country House’.

Now if this is were a movie I’d blush becomingly, he’d smile and we’d hit it off. In my reality he looked at me in horror, I blushed (but not becomingly) and scurried off and I’ll forever be known as the chubby girl in tracksuit pants who sings loudly in public who should be avoided.


And the trifecta of stupid things I’ve done in the last 24 hours involved me getting into the shower after my walk. While taking off my t-shirt rather than just, you know, taking off my t-shirt I got a little enthusiastic and ended up hitting myself in the head and gouging my nose, causing it to bleed and now my boss thinks my boyfriend hits me. (The photo makes it look like I’m soft because it’s not that big. Shut it, it hurt.)

Never mind the fact that I have no boyfriend and I am more than capable of inflicting damage on myself without a relationship thank you very much.

Oh and I lost on the Melbourne Cup.

I am an idiot sometimes.


Sunday Nov 5, 2006

Despite finishing drinking at 1 am last night, and it now being 8 pm I still feel absolutely rubbish.

The issue being of course that combining champagne, sangria, beer and vodka makes me want to die today.

Topping that I didn’t get to make out with the boy I wanted to.

And I got told I looked like a politicians wife.

What does that even mean?

Do I?

(Actually I look bloody pale, I really should get some sun. Oh that’s right Sydney weather is being a complete arse and has been raining and overcast for days now)


I gorged myself on Saturday night at Capitan Torres as promised, I got sozzled on jugs of sangria, I read my Ben Elton book, and I totally wore a skirt and heels last night. I sent multiple drunken text messages, we bumped into Beth’s ex-boyfriend for the first time and it was all I could do not to punch him in the nose (he’s psychotic, they broke up over a year ago and in the half an hour after we saw him he sent her 7 sms’s – he’s pathetic)

And then this morning I stumbled pitifully around my apartment before I ate a delightfully greasy breakfast with my sister and boyfriend in Leichhardt.

Awesome weekend.

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