The Antilogy |

A few months back I booked an impromptu holiday. There was a sale on airfares within Australia, as I’d been to all states and territories bar 2 (Northern Territory I’ve always wanted to go to but this was a solo holiday and since I fight like a piece of jelly I thought it wouldn’t be prudent to do the outback on my own) I booked a trip to Tasmania.

Jesus. What a bloody brilliant idea (self high five!) That place is stunning and despite being home now for a couple of weeks I have already planned a second trip down there next year.

I had 5 days down there in a little one bedroom cottage I’d booked through AirBnB. I hired a car (asked for a small one and they gave me a 4WD – I took that shit off road and by off road I mean I aimed for puddles) and I just relaxed and had quiet time.

It was perfect.

Things are pretty normal right now. I’m still living with my sister Sabine and mercilessly annoying her (as only a younger sister can), my study is going well and I’m half way through my course with only a few more months to go. I’m still single and I’m pretty sure it’s terminal, so I’m going to work on becoming one of those chubby curly haired single women with big hair, big laugh and even bigger eclectic jewelry (it’s coming along nicely!)

I’m still doing the healthy eating/bullshit diet thing; as much as I have disdain for dieting and the whole bloody dieting industry generally I’m doing this for my health. I still mourn the food I used to eat, I would murder someone to be able to eat a decent pub nachos with dollops of sour cream and guacamole regularly (with no associated weight gain, thanks) but this healthier eating thing is permanent for me now so I’ll continue to mourn family sized bags of chips and macaroni and cheese. I’m 24 kilos down now (50ish pounds, I think?) so it’s working, but man.

And by photos I mean mainly photos of my cat. Who doesn’t love that shit.

Poppy yesterday morning feeling the sads.

Hand me my washing stick, Ma! 

Sydney at this time of year is full of Jacaranda trees with beautiful purple flowers. This is the view from my office and it’s gorgeous.

Poppy licking my cardigan…….I don’t know either.

Check out the Dadsicle rocking ICU in his hospital issue pj’s. This is 2 days post surgery and he is totally flipping me the bird.

Spring evenings in my “backyard”, a.k.a. my tiny patch of lawn.

Poppy watching me cook. Creepily.

I’ve been on a healthy eating thing for the past few months now. It’s working which is great, but I am fucking miserable.

I am continuing this diet because:

I am fat.

Sheer stubbornness.

I am enjoying watching the kilo’s come off (12 kg’s so far) but that is literally all I am enjoying. A couple of people have asked me how it’s all going and if I feel better and my immediate answer is always, no, it sucks balls. I am miserable, I am hungry and I do not get to enjoy ANY OF THE FOOD I LIKE!

I miss out on birthday cakes at work. I miss out on work yum cha lunchs and ribs. I am taking skim milk in my coffee and it’s balls. It has been weeks since I had cheese or cream and fried stuff I can only look back on fondly.

Anyway. I am eating well and it is lame.

I also moved house a month or so ago. I’m sharing a place with my sister. I have a backyard:

Poppy and I are both massive fans. I bought a hand push lawn mower thing and it pleases me immensely to cut the grass. I have banned Sabine from touching, looking at, breathing heavily near the lawn. Tomorrow I go to Bunnings to buy an edger and lawn feed. Yeah. Shit just got real.

There’s even rainbows and shit from the backyard.

I have to be honest and say I’m not coping well not living on my own yet. I knew it would take a while and Sabine and I are getting along well, I just miss my own space. And weeing with the door open.

Work is busy as usual. I have an eye twitch at the moment, it migrated from my right eye to my left eye though. I travel interstate next week for work to set up a new office, that’ll be pretty cool. I love a freshly patched comms rack. And hotel living. And expensing everything. I do not enjoy working weekends but I’m lazy so that’s a given.

It’s been a strange couple of months, lots of change which I hate but I imagine is character building. I’m doing good though, good things are happening and stuff. Hope you’re all well x

I went overseas at the end of last year to the UK and France. It was fucking amazing.

it was my father, my sister Sabine and I for 4.5 weeks for my Dad’s birthday. We did London, Bath, Salisbury, York, lakes District, Northern England, Wales, Dublin, Belfast, Scotland, Paris and Normandy.  While travelling with your family is, uh, interesting it was a trip of a lifetime.

When I’m with my family I turn into the jerk younger sister that I am. Considering that Sabine and I had to share rooms and beds for several nights the woman is a saint for not strangling me in my sleep.

Rather than beautiful scenic photos you get the below photos where I pull faces at the camera all over!

On a sight seeing bus.

On the flight home. I’m overjoyed.

Waiting at the airport to fly home. I’m really overjoyed.

Trying to take a photo.

Flipping the bird at my sister at the Bronte parsonage.
That place was awesome and sad.

Scotland National Museum pretending to be a giant skeleton head?

On the Scottish Coast on the drive to Edinburgh. Bitterly cold and blowing a gale.

Waiting at St Pancras station for the Eurostar to Pari

This is the vending machine outside our hotel rooms in Paris. I put money in for the brownie bites you can vaguely see hanging half way out.
There may have been an unsuccessful shoulder charge and the next day there was this sign.

It feels like ages since I’ve written here so I thought I’d drop in and say hi.

Things are going okay. We had a round of redundancies at work and lost about a third of the IT department, most of them outsourced overseas. Will be interesting to see how long it takes for the roles to come back in house. They nearly always do.

I’ve had the flu and spent a few days last week dying at home. I am not a good sick person, I want to be left alone but then I get cranky when people don’t come over with soup and stroke my hair. I am a pleasant person. Still, was nice to have a couple of days at home.

I’ve got two gigs coming up, You Am I and Ash, both my 16 year old self and my current self are excited about this.

It’s been over a year now since Grandma died and the grief still surprises me. I was dusting and washing my tea cups and tea pots and had forgotten she’d put a sticker on the teapot I liked of hers.

She went through a phase where every time you’d visit she’d ask if you wanted any of her stuff. I’d say she was being morbid and I didn’t want her stuff (except for the teapot.) Didn’t realise it would be so fresh still this far after. Because she did some acting there’s film out there with her on it and I can’t bring myself to watch it. I miss the old duck.

I picked up a stray cat last week, she was living in a church across the road from me. Slept under my car at night, was ravenous when I started feeding her and was skinny. So I grabbed her and took her to the vet to see if she was microchipped, when they couldn’t get a hold of the owner for a couple of days I brought her home. She was a sweetheart, a little manx cat that when she was happy she’d wag her little tail.

Except it turns out she did have an owner, there is an apartment above the church that I didn’t know was there. And the owner had been worried sick. So yeah, I kidnapped a cat.

Anyway. I apologised a million times and the owner and I are okay, in fact I offered to cat sit for her if she ever needed it.

It’ll be a while before I “rescue” any strays again.

It’s my Dad’s 60th birthday this year. Sabine and I were trying to convince him to have a party, just do something. He decided he was going to the UK and that we should come with him. So come mid October Sabine, Pater and I will be spending a month in the UK. A week in Ireland and a week in France. If we make it through without killing each other it will be ah-mazing. I am going to eat all of the pork pies and have a lady date with ihatemyname. I’m going to work on my terrible rusty French, currently I only know the greetings, how to buy cigarettes and have to order a cheese and ham baguette. Should be enough. Is going to be awesome.

I’m single still although I am stealth dating J, and by stealth dating I mean we’re hanging out and he doesn’t know we’re dating. I’m sorry but if I make out with you and then go to Ikea with you on a Sunday? Dating. If I go furniture shopping with you? Dating. If I spend weekend afternoons at yours watching the IT Crowd and making out? Dating. If you come to things as my implied date? Dating.

It’s only creepy if you think about it too much…..

Poppy is still my furry faced little companion. She oscillates between being a complete jerk and being a sweetheart. Although she has taken to sitting beside my pillow of morning and staring at me until I wake up. This is the view and I do not like it.

She is not excited to see me, she is plotting my downfall and I ruined it by waking up, look at the suspicion and loathing on her face.

Overall things are good. How is everyone? Your hair looks great.

My dad taught me to cartwheel.

One summer holidays I went into work with my Dad (he was a librarian) nearly everyday and read all of the Young Adult section.

My sister and I shared a bedroom together when we were 17 and 18. She’d just finished school and I was doing my final year and it was not a good combination. She used to come home drunk with her friends when the local clubs/bars would close and wake me up all the damned time.

I broke one of my closest friends (Bec) leg when we were 4 or so. It was totally an accident (I’m hoping so unless I was a psychopath back then) but she brings it up most times we catch up. I figure that’s fair. Even worse is it apparently didn’t look like it was broken and my mother sent her home from our play date, and her mother (who is a nurse) gave her a panadol and told her to stop crying. Ahh, child rearing in the 80’s.

Despite my mother now being the least maternal person ever she is my go to person for recipe advice since she used to make most of our food, including home made vanilla ice cream.

I had a wart on my thumb as a kid and was petrified for weeks after my Mum told me we’d need to have it frozen off. Then I woke up one day and it had disappeared. I’m still squicked out by the idea that it fell off in my sleep.

The first two tapes (yeah!) I bought myself were Whispering Jack by John Farnham and Still Cruising by the Beach Boys.

I don’t sing in front of others because of the trauma (!) of my sister discovering me singing along to my walkman one day off key to Tears of a Clown and harassed me mercilessly. So if we’re ever out drunk together and you suggest going to karaoke and I say no? Blame Sabine.

Just to even this up I was a complete shit of a younger sister to Sabine and would frequently get her into trouble. One of my favourites was when I was learning how to write at 3 or 4 and wrote her name (in permanent marker) on the windowsill at home. She got the blame for that one. Oh, and I also threw a pair of scissors at her once. So yeah. Bygones.

(Look at me here – do I look like someone who could throw a pair of scissors at my sisters head?)

I used to be ridiculously active as a child, I don’t know what happened.

My Dad believed in creative punishment since he didn’t smack us. One night when I was around 4 I didn’t want to do the dishes so he proposed I ran around the farm (11 acres) until maybe I’d change my mind. I made it around 3 times I think before he took pity on me. He made me do the dishes anyway.

I grew up on a farm which had an outside toilet. It was terrifying and I still don’t know how I used to go outside in the middle of the night. Maybe I just wet the bed a lot?

There weren’t many rules on the farm, but the main one for me was even if I wasn’t wearing clothes (I did not like wearing clothes) I had to wear gumboots. And if we went off on our own we had to have our Great Dane Sid come with us.

My Mum gave Sabine and I completely ridiculous nicknames as children. I still haven’t told Beth mine because it’s stupid and mortifying. And no, I’m not telling you either. Let’s just say it has Bum in it and leave it at that.

I got a haircut on the weekend from my beloved hairdresser Carol. Even though Carol has been cutting my hair (and Beth’s) for a few years now she doesn’t remember my name. Up until last week she called me Mimi. Mimi bears no relation whatsoever to my real name Eve, like none.

But when I saw her she’d given up completely and just calls me Beth. So there’s Beth (me) and Beth (Beth.)

Carol understands the mop that is my hair and I love her, she gave me a great haircut and made it all shiny and pretty.

Then I washed it last night it turned into this.

Demented bag lady hair a-hoy!

I’m smack bang in the middle of the cooling off period with the apartment, it’s a 42 day settlement period which is fine but I’m a worrier by nature so I’m just waiting for someone (I don’t know who, my worries are not very rational) to pop out and say “No, you can’t have it.”

I am also a poh child at the moment. I’m saving about half of my pay at the moment to go towards all of the other fees and charges on this place, mortgage broker fees, solicitor fees, mortgage insurance, strata reports blah blah blah. 

It is fucking ridiculous, as a result I’m student poor. I raided my piggy bank this morning for coffee and lunch money, I did not work hard for 10 years to be paying for my lunch in 50 cent coins!

Fucking mortgage.

In a few weeks it’ll all be over, the mortgage payments themselves are quite manageable so once all of these fees and stuff are done it’ll be a lot easier. Because I am not 17 anymore and I refuse to use silver coins as my main tender. Refuse!

How’s things with you?

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.

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. 

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.

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? 

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

Dear, this week has been busy and boring. I am still absolutely bored at work without Adam here, but one week down one to go. On the plus side I am powering through my work each day without the coffee breaks we normally have, so I’m only doing 9 hour days. Score.

So, you know that cute maxi dress I bought to wear to Sabine’s 30th this weekend? I decided against it. I’m such a knob when it comes to buying outfits, I get a single outfit stuck in my head and then I buy it all and get it home and try it on, and I don’t like it all that much anymore.

Instead I bought this top, it’s pretty cute and I figure with skinny (chubby) jeans and heels I should be okay. Photo’s will be up on Twitter over the weekend I think.

I’ve got the relatives staying at my house for the weekend (thanks Sabine.) I’ve spend the last couple of days cleaning and fussing. I don’t know when I got so retarded with visitors coming and how clean the apartment is, I mean they’re family, they don’t care about dust. But yeah, the house is wickedly clean.

I found this little table at an online auction. And because I am awesome and by awesome I mean incapable of losing I won it. It is going to look so fucking gorgeous in my apartment. I think it might go in the bedroom maybe?

I’m a little worried about Saturday night. The last time I had a bit of a big night I ended up crying over something stupid. I don’t do public crying, so I’m hoping that that night was just a one off, because dear God I don’t want to be the crying drunk. I am the cheerful drunk girl and I better bloody keep that title. In fact I’ve decided I will instead have a great night with a lot of my friends to celebrate my sisters birthday, the end, full stop.

Sorry, this turned out to be a little boring so I’m going to be conscientious and leave work at 4:00 p.m. Hope you all have a great weekend.