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new years eve, bathing Poppy, ribs and beer…

Monday Nov 30, 2009

1 x success, 1 x failure this weekend.

Success?

Gave Poppy a bath and we’re both still standing with no bloodshed and not one scratch mark. I gave up on the shower idea after I realised I would get wet. So she went into the laundry sink. Did she like it? Hell no. Did she cling to the tap like her life depended on it? Yup. Did she look like a drowned rat afterwards? Yeah, my poor little wet rat. Is she clean and flea free? Clean definitely, hopefully flea free.

hide your shame

hide your shame

I won’t be in a hurry to do it again, but I’m glad it was as terrible as I thought it would be.

The failure relates purely to my digestive system after my beer and ribs night on Saturday. I enjoyed myself immensely, I forget how nice it is being on Sydney harbour in the summer time. Lovely. So I was talked into getting a full rack of ribs, and it was dee-licious. Combined with the beer though, and then the cider afterwards and let’s say I don’t think my insides are happy with me at all. Like, at all.

Speaking of immense amounts of trouble I just found out there’s a doughnut store opening essentially a block away from my apartment. I do not need a doughnut store near me, especially one that is next door to my grocery store and is literally a 2 minute walk from my house. I may as well just buy a muumuu and throw away my cross trainer. Give me strength.

I just found out what we’re doing for New Years, which awesomely involves renting a beach house for a week in Palm Beach, a.k.a. the beach of Home & Away. What this means is that at some point after I drink too much sangria or other dodgy punch type drink I mix up, I will be recreating scenes from H&A, including but not limited to Michael dying and Pippa trying to save him, Bobby dying and (forget his name) trying to save her, and also some Alf action yelling at kids. It’s going to be AWESOME. 


ribs and beer and boys

Friday Nov 27, 2009

Man, it’s been a bit of a week of boys behaving badly and I have no idea where or why.

Awesome girls going through shitty breakups or putting up with douchebag boy behaviour. It’s strange, I’m just quite glad I’m single at times like this.

Today I had to manually enter details of a telephone bill that has 500 numbers on it and a hard copy bill of over 1600 pages into excel. Do you know how long it took before I had an absolute meltdown and refused to do anymore? 3 hours, 917 pages and 238 mobiles. FML.

Bloody large Australian telecommunications company starting with the letter T, with their stupid bloody online billing system not working.

Let’s be honest though if my company will pay for 3 hours of my day spent doing data entry and listening to music, I am down with it. Even if I did get RSI.

My boy scene is officially dead. I have a married man who wants to make out with me and doesn’t seem concerned by him having a wife. I have Mark who has done himself an injury and needs a complete knee reconstruction and will be out of action for 2+ months. I have an old boy, who I absolutely adored, that I just found on Facebook and I’m thinking sending a friend request would be a bad idea, right? Bearded Boy is officially a friend, which I’m fine with as he is a complete and utter grumpy rude shit at work. DJ and Bearded Boy get on really well so he’s becoming a part of our group of friends, but seriously so stressed and rude at work that we barely talk in business hours. Then outside of work? Peachy keen. Stupid boys.

Since Mark has become useless to me (in the nicest possible way of course) I think that means I need to…..go out and meet people.

Jesus.

Maybe I should just work on bumping into that nice man who just moved into my apartment building. Relationship without the effort!

I just hate the dating and meeting part. I mean, why don’t I just wear a scorecard with my mobile number on it on my t-shirt, surely that would be easier than the rejection and effort, and dates and blah. God, just send me nice single bearded men!

Anyway, it’s Friday afternoon. I was supposed to be having breakfast with Adam tomorrow, but he made other plans 🙁 But I have a beer and rib date with Beth Saturday afternoon which will be delightful. And be delightful I mean eating half a cow and drinking a keg of beer in a ladylike manner….


boxing kangaroos and bath time

Wednesday Nov 25, 2009

I got bored of my old theme and updated. It’s simple but I like it. (And if you do not like it and leave a comment saying so I will totally cut you.) (I’m scared of knives but I give a wicked chinese burn.)

Amazingly when I updated the template I didn’t delete my blog entirely/send out the address to everyone in my company directory/break the internet. And yes, these things are possibilities when I attempt to use my mad skillz to do coding.

Yesterday I had a good day, and today is also going well. So that’s two decent days in a row where I don’t fear for a mental breakdown. This is a good thing. Hopefully it was just a bad few weeks and things are a-okay.

Plus this weekend I’m catching up with Adam for breakfast, and then Beth and DJ for afternoon beers and ribs. Beer and ribs on a sunny Sydney day is heaven. Especially when I can do it wearing a maxi dress. That has no defined waist line.

That’s right ladies and gentleman, it IS crazy that I’m single.

I’ve discovered that Poppy has fleas. How in earth she got these considering she hasn’t played, with let alone been near another cat in 6 months, or been outside (actually that just sounds awful) and yet still has them?

This means……….bath time. I’m scared. I’m a firm believer that cats, like vagina’s, are self cleaning (single handed most disgusting yet true thing I’ve ever said) so I’ve never bathed any of my pet cats before. Plus, George was feisty, and Lily would probably have let me bath her but then smothered me in my sleep later, so I’ve just never been game.

But Poppy? Although I think I’d end up looking like this guy I think they’d just be surface wounds.

As an aside, seriously, click through on the link above especially if you don’t live in Australia. I fucking love a country where one of the emblems on the coat of arms (a kangaroo and an emu) tries to kill both a pet dog and its owner. And the dude who gets mauled (and has some wicked scratch marks) just says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch Skippy quite the same.”

It’s like shark attack victims in Australia, theytypically are these laidback surfers and will blithely mention that they just smacked it in the face as it was trying to take off their leg until it stopped. And that they plan to get back in the water tomorrow.

I know it’s not all Australians, but the stereotypes of Australia and its inhabitants do exist and I bloody love them for it.

Anyway, apparently it’s “Leave Work on Time” day today (as well as White Ribbon Day –  good cause) so since I start at 7 this means that my home time should be oooh, an hour ago. So I might head home at 4 and have an early mark.

Ps : I want to do a lot of my Christmas shopping online, specifically etsy.com and madeit.com.au. Please let me know if you have any favourite stores or items that you love on there that I could use for inspiration?


letters…

Monday Nov 23, 2009

Dear Weather,

It was 41 degrees yesterday. And it’s 21 today. If you were a person you’d be schizophrenic.

Yesterday was appalling, I left the house for 5 minutes in the morning to grab the Sunday newspapers, coffee and cigarettes. I spent the rest of the day inside, blinds drawn, doors closed sitting in front of my fan in a singlet and underwear.

Poppy almost passed out from heat exhaustion just from sitting on the balcony. I threw her in the shower and turned on the cold water. She hates me thanks to you.

Maybe we could try being a little more consistent, or having a word with someone who can give me air conditioning?

Tks

Lucy.

Dear Magnolia Square Markets,

You were adorable and lovely and I wanted to frame so many of the things I saw.

I’m particularly a massive fan of these wall hangings.

I don’t even blame you for the sunburn I got.

Til next year.

Luce.

Dear New Moon,

I am a fan, so I’m going to ignore the fact that as a movie you were actually pretty terrible. Stilted dialogue and awkward pauses fit for John Black of Days of our Lives.

The book was pretty awesome and I think getting rid of the director of the first movie was a mistake.

But let’s be honest, if the movies were just the characters standing in a room doing nothing for 2 hours I’d still come and watch.

Love

Lucy.

 

Dear People around me who aren’t good friends, but still friends,

It is not strange that I :

–       Do not own a computer, especially since I work in IT.

–       Do not like going out all that much.

–       Am single.

It really isn’t, and I promise you if I wasn’t okay with the above I wouldn’t do them/I’d change it. Seriously. If you’re offended or genuinely confused by this stuff I can’t help you much there kiddo. You focus on your stuff, I’ll focus on my stuff and everyone will be just a-okay.

Kind Regards

Me.

 

Dear Friend,

You’re a grown man, and you’re capable of making up your own mind on what you want to do.

But, as I’ve told you before, I do not think you are big, nor clever, when you pop a pill. I actually think you’re a bit of a fucktard.

So, do your own thing dude, but best keep the bragging about how fucked up you were on the weekend to your dickhead friends who actually do think you’re big and clever, k?

Idiot.

 

Dear brain,

I know we’re slightly unbalanced, I do. That’s why we’re on our delicious anti-depressants.

But, I’m not sure whether you’re no longer allowing these mood balancing pills to work. And this? Concerns me greatly since I try to avoid having breakdowns wherever possible.

I’m hoping it’s just a bad couple of weeks, I really do. Because I just don’t have the energy to do that again. So I need your help in allowing as much sweet sweet dopamine to flood you, yeah?

Trust me, it’s for both of our own goods.

 Love

Luce.


ghey

Thursday Nov 19, 2009

God, these type of articles annoy me.

If, like me, you’re too lazy to click through onto articles it’s a whiney article about the influence of Bella from Twilight as a bad role model for girls.

Because she is clingy and self absorbed and willing to give up everything for the man-child vampire Edward Cullen.

So, she is dangerous. Just like Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet encouraged suicide and pre-marital sex and violence, and just like Wuthering Heights Catherine encouraged girls to be narcissistic and self destructive, and just like heavy metal music makes boys take guns and kill people.

The kids? To paraphrase the delightfully cheeky Robbie Williams, are alright. They are smart and should be given more credit than to assume they’re blindly follow characters and celebrities and umm, fall in love with a vampire?

And if your child is influenced by a fictional character or Paris Hilton to make decisions and shape their personality, then you know what? They’d be influenced by anything and you’ve failed as a parent, and we’ve failed as a society to raise children with a bit of nous and intelligence.

Or, crazily enough, they’re just normal kids who fuck up and make mistakes.

Shits me.

In other awesome news I have a ticket to see New Moon this afternoon. Sure I’m 28 and it’s a little lame, but I accept that title fully.

I was a relatively angry/wanky/indie teenager so I missed that teenager fandom stage. Let’s just say I am making up for it with being giddy about seeing this movie. And cranky about lame media opinion pieces.


stuff and nonsense

Tuesday Nov 17, 2009

I’m wearing a skirt, sans my usual heavy opaque stockings, today and for the first time since last summer my bare legs are out there. Very very uncomfortable feeling.

We have a fish tank at work that belongs to a particular team within IT. I’m smitten with the fish and tend to feed them because the team (Adam’s neglectful awful team) tends to forget. Because I’m often the first person in the office I sing a song to them when I feed them, granted it’s a song from Red Dwarf and it’s pretty much says that I’m going to eat them, but still. When I’m done with cats, which will be after Poppy because I can not handle losing another pet and the heartbreak that goes along with losing another one of their furry little faces, I will have fish.

Pet’s are also weird, namely my cats. Lily suffered breakdowns quite regularly where she’d stop walking around and would only get around the house by jumping from furniture to furniture, George used to drink out of the toilet and eat cockroaches, Poppy is in love with my perfume. I wear rose oil as my perfume, sure I smell like an old lady but I love it. And so does Poppy, as everytime I put it on she ends up licking at my wrists where I’ve put the perfume on. I figure it doesn’t appear to be toxic as she’s still here so eh, whatevs.

I am finally catching up with Beth this weekend, her job in politics involves some pretty insane hours and night times are best for her to catch up with if she’s working weekends. I hate going out at night, I don’t know why but if you plan a day time catch up I will be there with an almost 100% attendance rate. Plan a night time catch up? Attendance slips to below 50%. I don’t know what it is but I just like being at home, and cooking dinner and relaxing at home at night. But since I’ve lived in my new apartment I haven’t been to any of the local pubs, and since I need a local pub like I need a local library we’re doing an afternoon local pub crawl. And by crawl I mean find one with a beer garden and drink too many beers until DJ has to come and pick us up and drive us home. And then put Beth to bed. But stopping at a service station first so Beth can buy pringles and I can buy Honey Baked Ham Kettle chips.

We are classy ladies.


lies and awesome and stuff

Friday Nov 13, 2009

So, there’s been a bit of blog gossip around lately about a blog I used to read. It was written by a young woman with a child who was terminally ill with lung cancer, and eventually passed away in 2007.

 Turns out, she’s not dead, and people are understandably a little pissed off. Actually in my case a lot. I don’t know the full story, frankly I don’t particularly care.

 Write a fictional blog. Put a disclaimer on your blog. But writing that you’re dying and all about the sadness and sickness that comes with it, and then accepting people’s kindness and commiserations and assistance for your own entertainment or whatever it was for her kinda makes you a cunt. I wasn’t going to link but hey, you people are smart and can make up your own minds, yes?

 Enough about liars, this week has been awesomely quick. I worked from home Tuesday and as a result this week has flown past. Thank you jebus.

 I have no plans for this weekend beyond heading out for breakfast and naps. I love a plan-less weekend, I know I want to catch up with Beth since it’s been a good week or two since we’ve caught up. And I know I want to tidy up the apartment and bake some shit (baked goods obviously.)

 I’ve been feeling a little hermit-like lately and I would enjoy it a lot more if people just accepted it rather than fighting it. It’s funny how people get quite personally offended by people not being social. My close friends and I have an understanding, I tend to be a nanna and if we’re out and about I’m generally ready for home by midnight-ish. What happens is I have a last drink, hugs and kisses all around and then Beth makes sure I get into a cab, I go home, she goes back in – everybody is happy. People who want to stay out, stay out. People who want to head home, head home.

 And yet whenever there are new people around there’s always this moment when I’m saying goodbye to Beth and K and everyone, when you can see that me going home has offended them. That me going home is me saying to them, “You bore me, I’m out of here.” When really all I’m saying is, “I’m a nanna and want to be in bed curled up with my cat.”

 But then, they tend to be the same people who ask why I’m still single.

 I am in love with Dita Von Teese. I just am amazed that she essentially takes her clothes off for a living and yet she is awesome and insanely classy and graceful. I just think she’s really cool and I like that there are women out there who provide an alternative model (not role model because I don’t really believe in them) but just someone that shows the different paths people can take and it doesn’t make them better or worse, just different. I think it’s a nice change from the standard “You can be a career girl or you can be a stay at home mother and that’s it, suck it” roles that are out there for girls.

(Also, surprisingly cute even without her make up.)

 Anyway, it’s beer o’clock on a Friday so I’m going to head home. Have a great weekend.


haircuts and furniture

Friday Nov 6, 2009

Work is totally having a shut down period over Christmas. Suh-weet. I get to have nearly 2 weeks off work, thank the baby jebus and you kids for the vibes you sent out. You’re like my own personal Uri Gellers. But without the spoons.

FRENPROV005

I’ve got my delicious little turquoise hall table being delivered Tuesday and I’m needing some advice on where I should put it. So, do I put it in the living room and move other stuff around? 

living room 

 

Or do I put it in my bedroom, at the end of my bed  and have a totally girly bedroom?

bedroom

I know, I write about the hard hitting stuff here at theantilogy.

I’ve decided that once Poppy heads off (which, let’s face it, will be a while since she’s barely a year old) that I’m not going to have another pet for a while. I just can’t handle the gut wrenching awful-ness of losing a pet. I mean I miss George still, my little tabby nutcase kitten that I still have scars from. And Lily, my psychopathic horse sized cat who did not curl up next to you or even let you touch her or frankly even care for you much. And they’re both gone and I do not like feeling the amount of feelings I have when I love something like that, and then they go.

Can you tell my issues when it comes to relationships? Shyeah.

I’m so excited by the idea of time off over Christmas, I had a week off in April, I think? And I am lazy, way lazy, so that is far too long to just be working and stuff.

Adam is back at work next week, thank god. I’ve actually missed the douchebag, and am very much looking forward to having someone to kidney punch again.

I’m heading back to the hairdresser this weekend. I only went a few weeks ago but she didn’t take enough length off the front. She gives me these bob cuts which are shorter at the back and longer at the front, like a Posh bob. But my hair is far too fucking thick and it just gives me the shits when it’s hanging around my face. So yes, Carol has to make it shorter but cuter. I do not know how but she is the genius here.

Anyway, I’m heading off at a normal time again today. Hope everyone is fit and well.


waxing and heat and stuff

Wednesday Nov 4, 2009

I have had enough of this disgusting heat that we’ve been having in Sydney. When I was coming home last night at 6:30 p.m. it was 38 degrees. That’s really fucking hot.

The reason why I hate it this year in comparison to last? I used to have reverse cycle air conditioning. Beautifully chilled and controllable air conditioning. This apartment, while insanely newer and nicer, is useless with no air conditioning whatsoever. As a result I’ve spent my lunch hour today searching for fans because I cannot spend another night like  last night wearing next to nothing and still hot and sweaty. I am a lady! Ladies perspire gently!

The weekend was busy but good, Friday night I had a couple of houseguests so I entertained and hosted and stuff. I also drank a lot of wine and champagne and woke up hungover Saturday morning. Saturday night was Sabine’s birthday party and it was good to see everyone and have muchos champagne. The top was cute, Sabine liked her new ring, food was great, just a really good night. Although I did get into a discussion argument with Bec’s husband because he is a complete douchebag. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him but not giving a shit when your wife is upset puts you back on my “would kick in the kidneys if there was no else around” list.

Sunday I was lazy with a capital LAZE. It was lovely. Then I’d taken Monday off work and my cross trainer was delivered, I am an exercising machine. And by machine I mean I’ve been on it every day since I got it. Granted it’s only been 2 days but baby steps, people, baby steps.

I need a holiday. Actually I’d like to retire, but I’m going to need more than $7.00 in my savings account to retire at 28. I hate working, I don’t mind the work itself or the people I work with, but I’m just tired of getting up early every day and getting home late. And I’m just at a loss as to what else I could do. And then I think about the apartment/house I want to buy and if I have a debt of nearly half a million dollars giving up work is really not an option then.

Maybe, I’m just lazy and need to suck it up.

I’ve just heard rumours that they’re going to be doing a forced leave period over Christmas and New Years at work. That would be awesome, since right now Mel has put in for holidays over Christmas so I can’t go on leave. But if the business shuts down? Can totally not be at work and can actually spend time with Mum who will be over. Send Christmas shutdown vibes out, yes?

My beautician was in a hurry on Saturday and I think has damaged me. Not only did I accidentally open my eye while she was doing my eyelash tinting (dye in your eye burns like a motherfucker) (also I rhymed)  but I think the wax was a bit hot or she was using different stuff because shit aint’ right. Because you already know far too much about me I can tell you she occasionally (that’s a lie, she does it each month) waxes my upper lip. And now it looks like I’ve got pash rash. Seriously I don’t mind pash rash if I get to make out with a stubbled boy for a period of time. But no way in hell is it fair to get pash rash from waxing.

Fucking body hair.

On that delightful note I am out.


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