Hello everyone! Since last posting, I have not got a turtle. I remain turtleless. Turtless?
|well i can't forget this evening|
I have been to a fancy party, though! It was a Business Awards Dinner (for work) and it was Black Tie. This was great for productivity as not only did it boost my enthusiasm to be representing a high-flying company, it allowed me to spend an entire afternoon googling "Black Tie" and "Black Tie Women" and "Black Tie Women help" and, inevitably, "Black Tie confusing help for fucks sake" and of course, boss, if you are reading this I'm kidding. Just a funny joke for comedy blog! Ha! Ha!
Seriously though it takes fucking ages to effectively google Black Tie.
I ended up wearing a very tight black velvet dress with a fancy-ass neckline, which was kind of good and kind of bad because during my first fancy forkful of fancy entree I managed to drop a large cube of fancy potato salad down my top, where it came to rest directly below my fancy boobs.
This would have been kind of ok if I'd been able to scoot off to the bathroom and fish about in my decolletage until the potato salad was removed, but the award our company was up for was right after the entree. And we won it. And so the table leapt to its feet, celebrating and whooping and (in some cases) desperately hoping that the potato salad lodged against their ribcage wouldn't make a sudden break for freedom. It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.
|it was the potato salad breast of times|
In other work news, we have hired someone called Rupert. This is disastrous. Rupert himself seems lovely, but Rupert is the default name I use when I'm talking about male colleagues who need to remain anonymous in my blod, and now I can't use it any more. Also this is probably a good time to confirm that any posts prior to this involving a colleague called Rupert were about My Colleague, Hypothetical Rupert and not My Colleague, Actual Rupert.
MCARupert is good, except every time I interact with him I think about Rupert Bear, and then my mind wanders to the story about the time RB explored a castle, and I can't quite remember what he found but I do remember that it was vaguely scary (?) and possibly had historical significance, and also maybe RB fell through the floor at some stage, and then I suddenly realise that everyone else in the meeting is looking at me and I am expected to produce a pithy comment about revenue.
|I hope his tale is about how comversion is up on last quarter.|
Speaking of colleagues; today my colleague Zipper* had an unfortunate telephone encounter where she accidentally told a client that their previous rep was dead.
"Hello," she said, "I'm Zipper!"
"Hello Zipper," said the client, "what happened to my rep, Mitchell?"**
"Mitchell is no longer with us."
The client gasped and said, "How did he go??"
"He went into real estate!"
There are not many times I wish I kept a slide whistle in my desk, but that was one of them.
In non-work news, I had Picnic up to stay for the weekend! It was the first time I've had A Proper Houseguest and so I ran out and bought new towels and fancy handwash and pretty crockery, and then hid heaps of washing in the washing machine, which is broken and therefore a storage unit.
I really must take that washing out before I forget about it forever.
It was an awesome weekend and great to have her staying - we went to two movies (Magic Mike XXL because so many abs, and Jurassic World because I was misinformed about how good it was and Picnic was too polite to reason with me) and went out to a bar and got hit on by the most appalling pair of car salesmen we had ever encountered, and drank wine and played pool and ate scones and basically I think the moral of that story is that sometimes there is no punchline, it is just nice to have friends.
Even when the friend is not Horace, and one is still without turtle.
|you always smile but in your eyes your sorrow shows|
During her visit Picnic suggested that I join "tinder" and I am keen to get your ideas on this. I'm not that familiar with it, but from what I gather if Findsomeone is going out for a nice dinner, Tinder is a 3am bucket of KFC that you will undoubtedly regret later, when you wake up in the middle of an Elephant's Graveyard-esque panorama of chicken bones and chickeny napkins.
(Meeting someone in person and dating is a 10-course degustation at the chef's table, in that I have neither the money or patience to do it more than once a decade, and usually it starts off really well and you're getting excited and then suddenly they bring out a tripe and pine nut souffle and you just want to go home, and also you're probably drunk.)
Picnic and I had somewhat different views on what makes a good Tinder profile picture; you may guess which one she suggested and which one I suggested.
|what do you mean "not that much personality"|
I'm torn about Tinder because on the one hand you all know how endlessly entertaining I found FindSomeone, but - hang the fuck on I just remembered I have a scratchie in my handbag that I bought at morning tea and haven't scratched yet. I shall finish that sentence once I've won my millions.
Ok sorry about that. I did not win anything. I also forgot what I was going to say about Tinder during the wild excitement of the scratchie. I think where I was going was that while I normally love novelty romance shit I'm really not sure that Tinder is for me.
That is all the news for now, but I promise to check in again in less than two months.
Probably still without turtle.
*surprisingly, not her real name; she is similar, but not identical, to my colleague Button
**can't say Rupert any more. end of a ruperty era