You too, huh? Oh wow. Well, this is what I did on mine. (You can tell me what you did on yours, if you like.)
Went out on Friday night with pleasant workmates, as opposed to tacky sordid drunken work crowd who go out every Wednesday and Friday and seem to be constantly sleazing onto each other (it's amazing how judgmental I'm bein' here considering that until about 2 weeks ago I was a card-carrying member of that crowd) - anyway, it was a very enjoyable night! It is not every evening (or early morning, I do not recall the minor details) that you end up eating stolen pistachios in a convenience store. I really should empty all of those pistachio shells out of my handbag.
Sister Flatmate went to a wedding on Saturday - I forgot she was going until she charged through the front door at lunchtime in in a state of extreme over-excitement, shouting about how her friends would be round in ten minutes and how we had to clean everything. Sent her off to the wedding a couple of hours later, having sat through the standard "are you sure about this dress/lipstick/bag/coat/hairstyle/pair of earrings" and "do you think these stockings/earrings/boots/bangles are a mistake" and "do my ankles look awful? No? Are you sure?" (All the women on my father's side of the family have chronic cankles, including my three sisters and me - none escape the curse. It is B or possibly Z grade horror movie-worthy. Night of the Cankles. Just when you thought it was safe to wear shoes with ankle straps.)
Anyway, packed SF off to her wedding (well, to the wedding she was going to (it is really strange that I can't be bothered backspacing to fix a minor error of phrasing, but I have no issues with carrying blithely on and trying to explain said error, which takes many more keystrokes)), and then my friend who was down from up north for the weekend came round for a catch-up, which was great fun -
Except for two things.
1) She interrupts a lot, and completely shamelessly - you'll be about halfway through a sentence, and she'll just start talking over you. Sometimes it's on the same topic, and sometimes it's not. Also makes no difference whether or not you keep talking, she is unstoppable. For about half an hour I had an experiment running when every time she interrupted over the top of me, I kept talking until I had finished what I was originally going to say...but she got annoyed and I got the giggles (it's remarkably funny when you've got two people who are just talking at each other) and so I gave up and resigned myself to the fact that for the rest of the evening I was going to have to give up on every fourth or fifth sentence.
2) She always, always, always comments negatively on my weight and/or general appearance. If I've put on weight, it'll be something along the lines of "oh, what are the restaurants in your new area like?" Me: "Um, good, there's a really nice Chinese place up the road which-" Her, over the top of my restaurant review: "Hee hee, I thought your face was chubbier!" Hee hee. If I've lost weight, it'll be more along the lines of a musing, apropos to nothing (I think I might've used that phrase wrong, but hopefully it's close enough to the proper usage that you get what I mean) comment of, "you know, I'm glad I'm curvy." Me: "Oh?" Her: "Yes. I mean, men don't like a boyish figure like yours, they like women to look like women." Why, I hear you ask, why do I not then hit her in the face with a chair? Because - actually this is kind of like the punchline - she is the size of a house, which instantly renders all of her rudeness laughable. I feel like saying alternately "Yes, I have put on weight, and now weigh approximately two thirds of what you do!" and "Yes - damn that visible bone structure!" but I never do, because I was brought up properly.
Why is it that some fat people feel that because they are fat, it gives them the right to comment on everyone else's body shape? She also says things like "yes, I am large, but I'm in proportion - I go in and out at all the right places, and I'm still very shapely." Yes. You are shaped like a potato.
Anyway - she is a good friend and we did have a good evening (apart from a minor hitch where she wanted to heat something up in our oven, which was full of filthy dishes from pre-wedding clean. SF and I are filth wizards). We went into town and had a few cocktails before going to a karaoke bar and belting out Mr Brightside at about two in the morning - it was a fun night and a pretty sober one too, which was good. I have decided that sobriety is the new hedonism. (Except for paydays, public holidays, personal crises, friends having personal crises etc., in which case I am prepared to make an exception and become stinking rotten maggoted drunk.)
Got up nice and early today and spent a couple of hours with the Sunday paper, then 'springzanised' my room - it's more than tidying & re-organising, but less than spring cleaning - and did two loads of washing. Very very windy but warmish day here, so I thought I'd wash everything that looked even remotely like it might benefit from it, as well as SF's stuff. Ended up struggling out to the line with my arms full of clothes and cleavage stuffed with pegs (the peg bucket doesn't have a handle, and I hate having to bend down to get pegs on every item and dropping about five things in the process), much to the confusion of the neighbours, who were putting up a trellis. The neighbours also got to watch me playing Underpants Wrangler when bringing the clothes in again. For anyone who's never played Underpants Wrangler, you start off with a bunch of clothes stuffed under one arm and a bucket of pegs under the other, and you end up with a bunch of clothes stuffed under one arm, pegs everywhere, bras flying into the garden, and a pair of your sister's control pants on your head. Ideal playing conditions: gale force winds.
In other news, am going to visit Chch next weekend - more on this later as my excitement builds - and get paid my six-monthly commission this week. I'm also thinking about a revolutionary new hairstyle. Phwoar.