*or, A Brief & Judgmental Foray Into Fashion Blogging.
Are you listening, Christchurch? Leggings are not trousers. I understand leggings under a skirt. I understand leggings under a tunic thing. I even understand leggings without feet in (sort of). What I don't understand is leggings all by themselves. Unless you are a cyclist, there is no reason to ever wear leggings, all on their lonesome, as trousers. For God's sake, people! I can see your bum. (Is that the point?)
Christchurch is weird like that. In Wellington when people wear ridiculously OTT outfits they're blatantly hoping to appear incredibly quirky/professional/artistic/trendy, and thus stand out from the seething mass of Cuba-clogging humanity. I can't pretend to have any idea what the majority of Christchurchians are trying to achieve when they get dressed in the morning because none of them end up looking any good. God, Christchurch, you're such a try-hard.
Two Irritating Non-Fashion-Related Things About Christchurch
- My mother's cellphone ringtone. Her incoming txt alert is about the same length as the Tony's Tire Service jingle, and slightly more irritating. She's also one of those people who, when her phone starts playing its obnoxious little tune, goes "Oh! That's my phone!" and yet makes no effort to turn it off. I am eventually going to snap and throw it in the toilet.
- The health regime I have unwittingly allowed home to impose on me. No smoking (family unaware of this nasty habit, and those who know about it think I've quit, which I suppose I have now, actually). Hardly any drinking (hard to go out drinking when you know 4 people and none of them like, well, going out drinking). Eating healthily (family cupboard full of vegetabley things).
Whinge whinge whinge. I think I am just bored. I had a pretty strong feeling Christchurch was going to be insanely boring, but I was hoping to be proved wrong.
Last night - Saturday night - I went to the movies with my mother and my aunt - GOD DAMN IT WELLINGTON I MISS YOU.
Showing posts with label detox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label detox. Show all posts
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Sunday, November 02, 2008
This is ludicrous.
Warning: grossness to follow. I am oversharing.
I am sick again. If I had the energy to be mad about this, I would be. I got home at about 8.30 on Friday night not feeling 100% and thought, 'oh, I must be hungry.' (I assume most medical conditions can be fixed with food.) One snack later and I was a dedicated worshiper at the altar of the Porcelain God (the most religious I've been in some years). So after sitting with my head in the toilet for about half an hour (sorry, but I am sick and I want to share my pain by making you read about it, in all its gross detail), I went to bed. And stayed there. Sleeping. For days. (Well, a day.) Was in bed all of Saturday, sleeping on and off, waking up alternately feverish drenched in sweat, or so cold I thought I'd never manage to get warm. Was horrible.
(Although, to be fair to this vile bug (which has taken on Genghis Khan-like epic proportions in my mind) some of the incredibly vivid, borderline lucid fever dreams were a) decent fodder for novel (oh yeah, new plot, although have been too sick to write (proper write, this doesn't count) so not started on it yet) and b) highly interesting.) Am getting feverish again and starting to write in Bad Sentences.
Got up this morning about ten because felt slightly better (and also needed bathroom and shower) for a couple of hours - started feeling faint and dizzy and ill again around lunchtime and thought, 'oh, I must be hungry.' So had porridge. Nice, healthy, beloved porridge. Fixing the illness, I thought! Saving the stomach! Restoring me to full health!
And just when the Porcelain God thought I had abandoned the faith.
Not even See You Again by Miley Cyrus (I know, I know, I was listening to it by accident, it was just what was on the music channel, I couldn't be bothered getting up to change it, etc) can cheer me up. I am SICK and have written NOTHING and am generally a grouchy, foul-tempered sod. I am also hungry, but I'm pretty sure my hypothesis about the addition of food to my already temperamental stomach (i.e. back to the altar) will be correct. I should just skip a step and give the food directly to the toilet, as an offering.
You know what annoys me the most about this completely random illness? I have been detoxing all week. I have not gone out drinking. I have barely been smoking. I have been eating breakfast, and all the other recommended meals. I have been getting enough sleep. In short, I have been a total saint in comparison to my usual hedonistic, rat-arsed drunk, chain-smoking workmate-shagging meal-skipping all-nighter-pulling self. I have been so good! I have three theories about this: one) detox has thrown my body into such a state of shock that the tiniest of germlets is capable of knocking it for six; two) it is sheer bad luck (probably the correct theory) and three) body is staging a rebellion. "I want my drinking back, bitch!"
Listen. Note to body. This is not the way to go about it. Do you know how much I do not feel like drinking right now? Why don't you send me an email, or something. I guess that might be a little logistically difficult - how about this - next time I need to barf (because believe me, there will be a next time), spell out a message in that. OK?
The suckiest thing is that I have to go to WORK tomorrow. Maybe I will vomit on Musclini.
Also, just between you and me (I promise this is not spew-related) - a friend of sorts posted pictures of their Halloween party on Facebook. I looked through them in between trips to the - oh, wait, I promised not to mention that - KITCHEN and while 90% - no, make that 95% - of them were just your standard-issue, out of focus pictures obviously taken by someone in the process of falling drunkenly onto the nearest naughty nurse's knee there were a couple that I found seriously disturbing. (Actually there were lots that were pretty disturbing, but they were just your run-of-the-mill 'people who are going to wake up this morning and by morning I mean late afternoon, check Facebook, and then fall into a deep depression and well-deserved self-loathing' kinda snaps.) The disturbingest (most disturbing) photos - eww, Metallica, 'love is a four-letter word'? Have a little lyrical creativity. Sometimes music TV does not inspire me - by far the most disturbing photos were ones of an acquaintance of mine, who I normally think of in a 'oh yeah name deleted, he's an ok kinda guy, we had a big chat once when we were out drinking but I hardly ever really see/talk to him', dressed as a pirate. He makes an intensely sexy pirate. I am now never going to be able to see him again without preparing to be boarded. Gah! Stupid Halloween. Stupid pirate costume.
I think I am going to go back to bed now. Either that, or make some pasta and subdue Genghis by sheer force of will.
PS: I am sorry about all this complaining but I am bored and have nothing else to talk about.
PPS: Andrea, re: EB fixation - if you'da been there, if you'da seen it, I bet you you would have blogged the same.
I am sick again. If I had the energy to be mad about this, I would be. I got home at about 8.30 on Friday night not feeling 100% and thought, 'oh, I must be hungry.' (I assume most medical conditions can be fixed with food.) One snack later and I was a dedicated worshiper at the altar of the Porcelain God (the most religious I've been in some years). So after sitting with my head in the toilet for about half an hour (sorry, but I am sick and I want to share my pain by making you read about it, in all its gross detail), I went to bed. And stayed there. Sleeping. For days. (Well, a day.) Was in bed all of Saturday, sleeping on and off, waking up alternately feverish drenched in sweat, or so cold I thought I'd never manage to get warm. Was horrible.
(Although, to be fair to this vile bug (which has taken on Genghis Khan-like epic proportions in my mind) some of the incredibly vivid, borderline lucid fever dreams were a) decent fodder for novel (oh yeah, new plot, although have been too sick to write (proper write, this doesn't count) so not started on it yet) and b) highly interesting.) Am getting feverish again and starting to write in Bad Sentences.
Got up this morning about ten because felt slightly better (and also needed bathroom and shower) for a couple of hours - started feeling faint and dizzy and ill again around lunchtime and thought, 'oh, I must be hungry.' So had porridge. Nice, healthy, beloved porridge. Fixing the illness, I thought! Saving the stomach! Restoring me to full health!
And just when the Porcelain God thought I had abandoned the faith.
Not even See You Again by Miley Cyrus (I know, I know, I was listening to it by accident, it was just what was on the music channel, I couldn't be bothered getting up to change it, etc) can cheer me up. I am SICK and have written NOTHING and am generally a grouchy, foul-tempered sod. I am also hungry, but I'm pretty sure my hypothesis about the addition of food to my already temperamental stomach (i.e. back to the altar) will be correct. I should just skip a step and give the food directly to the toilet, as an offering.
You know what annoys me the most about this completely random illness? I have been detoxing all week. I have not gone out drinking. I have barely been smoking. I have been eating breakfast, and all the other recommended meals. I have been getting enough sleep. In short, I have been a total saint in comparison to my usual hedonistic, rat-arsed drunk, chain-smoking workmate-shagging meal-skipping all-nighter-pulling self. I have been so good! I have three theories about this: one) detox has thrown my body into such a state of shock that the tiniest of germlets is capable of knocking it for six; two) it is sheer bad luck (probably the correct theory) and three) body is staging a rebellion. "I want my drinking back, bitch!"
Listen. Note to body. This is not the way to go about it. Do you know how much I do not feel like drinking right now? Why don't you send me an email, or something. I guess that might be a little logistically difficult - how about this - next time I need to barf (because believe me, there will be a next time), spell out a message in that. OK?
The suckiest thing is that I have to go to WORK tomorrow. Maybe I will vomit on Musclini.
Also, just between you and me (I promise this is not spew-related) - a friend of sorts posted pictures of their Halloween party on Facebook. I looked through them in between trips to the - oh, wait, I promised not to mention that - KITCHEN and while 90% - no, make that 95% - of them were just your standard-issue, out of focus pictures obviously taken by someone in the process of falling drunkenly onto the nearest naughty nurse's knee there were a couple that I found seriously disturbing. (Actually there were lots that were pretty disturbing, but they were just your run-of-the-mill 'people who are going to wake up this morning and by morning I mean late afternoon, check Facebook, and then fall into a deep depression and well-deserved self-loathing' kinda snaps.) The disturbingest (most disturbing) photos - eww, Metallica, 'love is a four-letter word'? Have a little lyrical creativity. Sometimes music TV does not inspire me - by far the most disturbing photos were ones of an acquaintance of mine, who I normally think of in a 'oh yeah name deleted, he's an ok kinda guy, we had a big chat once when we were out drinking but I hardly ever really see/talk to him', dressed as a pirate. He makes an intensely sexy pirate. I am now never going to be able to see him again without preparing to be boarded. Gah! Stupid Halloween. Stupid pirate costume.
I think I am going to go back to bed now. Either that, or make some pasta and subdue Genghis by sheer force of will.
PS: I am sorry about all this complaining but I am bored and have nothing else to talk about.
PPS: Andrea, re: EB fixation - if you'da been there, if you'da seen it, I bet you you would have blogged the same.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Another day, another detox
"I am starting another detox," I shouted to Sally, in the bathroom brushing her teeth. "You just started another beer!" "I am starting it tomorrow morning. Start of a new week. New week, new detox! Not every week though."
Pause.
From the bathroom - "It's hard to brush your tongue."
So! New detox. Woke up yesterday to sound of neighbours mowing lawn and shouting at their children, and thought, 'Who has told them about my hangover?' Stupid neighbours.
I have lost my cellphone - this is far less distressing than I had imagined it would be! Actually it's quite nice to not be contactable 24 hours of the day. I guess in this day and age it's kind of irresponsible not to have one - for emergencies and so on - but still, it's quite tempting to remain cellphoneless and therefore somewhat off the radar. (I just like that phrase.)
I am totally stuck for ideas for NaNoWriMo! Like a car that has careened off the road and into a muddy paddock of clay whilst being driven by a learner driver whose father told them to turn FAR too late (this may or may not be based on a true story), I am well and truly stuck. However, I have faith that, like the car, I will - after a bit of futile wheel-spinning - come unstuck. Albeit with a lot of effort and cursing.
Has anything else interesting happened? Today I modelled (modeled? wore) some vintage clothing for my sister to list on Facebook - I'll see if my blogging skills are up to adding a picture. They probably aren't...I shall save a draft just in case, because I would hate for any of the previous stunning paragraphs to vanish into the inter-ether.
Ooh, look, I can do it! There I am. I love that dress, actually - you can't see the fabric very well there (poor photo) but it's stunning. I might put another one on. I really must buy a digital camera, I'd like to be able to put more photos of ME on the INTERNET. That's right, ME ON THE INTERNET!
How vain. I just want something interesting to come up when I Google myself.
So! Now that I have learned that new skill (do I gain a level? experience points? can I add a class? or do I just feel slightly ashamed of my startlingly geeky inner self) I shall go back to my usual rambling on about nothing (no large fruit today - sorry.)
(See, if I had a digital camera, I could've taken a photo of that enormous banana, so that you too could marvel at its hugeness. Just saying.)
As previously mentioned, I am having a dither about NaNoWriMo. I would like to write an adventure story - from the city to the jungle, from the jungle to the sea, from the pirate encounter to the mountain cave chase to the sacrificial altar to the last-minute escape and home again in time for supper - but I've never written anything even vaguely near that genre before and so it's a daunting thought. I normally write tongue-in-cheek, pun-filled well, bollocks. (Not that I'm saying this won't be bollocks. Have no fear, it will be!) I don't know how to write about the jungle! I don't know how to write a fight scene, or speed along an adventure plot! I don't even know why they'd be on an adventure anyway. I'm not sure I want to do another Quest - I think perhaps some sort of war/evading death scenario would be interesting but, as I said, I have no experience at all. Eek! Helpeth! I shall think of something on the way to work tomorrow.
Ooh, there is movie on! Cillian Murphy appears to be in Mexico. There is nothing I don't like about this! Adios, amigos! (and amigas.) If you need me, I will be in Mexico. Worrying about my novel and partaking in the medicinal application of tequila and peyote.
EDIT: Oh my God, I have eaten so much bread in the last three days. I have become obsessed with soup & bread. I average six slices of bread to a cup of soup, which is excessive, if not downright revolting! I am having bread guilt. And also eating yet another delicious piece of pea & ham-drenched toast! I am going to become huge. Like the banana. Oh my God! I have got to stop talking about that banana.
Pause.
From the bathroom - "It's hard to brush your tongue."
So! New detox. Woke up yesterday to sound of neighbours mowing lawn and shouting at their children, and thought, 'Who has told them about my hangover?' Stupid neighbours.
I have lost my cellphone - this is far less distressing than I had imagined it would be! Actually it's quite nice to not be contactable 24 hours of the day. I guess in this day and age it's kind of irresponsible not to have one - for emergencies and so on - but still, it's quite tempting to remain cellphoneless and therefore somewhat off the radar. (I just like that phrase.)
I am totally stuck for ideas for NaNoWriMo! Like a car that has careened off the road and into a muddy paddock of clay whilst being driven by a learner driver whose father told them to turn FAR too late (this may or may not be based on a true story), I am well and truly stuck. However, I have faith that, like the car, I will - after a bit of futile wheel-spinning - come unstuck. Albeit with a lot of effort and cursing.
Has anything else interesting happened? Today I modelled (modeled? wore) some vintage clothing for my sister to list on Facebook - I'll see if my blogging skills are up to adding a picture. They probably aren't...I shall save a draft just in case, because I would hate for any of the previous stunning paragraphs to vanish into the inter-ether.
Ooh, look, I can do it! There I am. I love that dress, actually - you can't see the fabric very well there (poor photo) but it's stunning. I might put another one on. I really must buy a digital camera, I'd like to be able to put more photos of ME on the INTERNET. That's right, ME ON THE INTERNET!
How vain. I just want something interesting to come up when I Google myself.
So! Now that I have learned that new skill (do I gain a level? experience points? can I add a class? or do I just feel slightly ashamed of my startlingly geeky inner self) I shall go back to my usual rambling on about nothing (no large fruit today - sorry.)
(See, if I had a digital camera, I could've taken a photo of that enormous banana, so that you too could marvel at its hugeness. Just saying.)
As previously mentioned, I am having a dither about NaNoWriMo. I would like to write an adventure story - from the city to the jungle, from the jungle to the sea, from the pirate encounter to the mountain cave chase to the sacrificial altar to the last-minute escape and home again in time for supper - but I've never written anything even vaguely near that genre before and so it's a daunting thought. I normally write tongue-in-cheek, pun-filled well, bollocks. (Not that I'm saying this won't be bollocks. Have no fear, it will be!) I don't know how to write about the jungle! I don't know how to write a fight scene, or speed along an adventure plot! I don't even know why they'd be on an adventure anyway. I'm not sure I want to do another Quest - I think perhaps some sort of war/evading death scenario would be interesting but, as I said, I have no experience at all. Eek! Helpeth! I shall think of something on the way to work tomorrow.
Ooh, there is movie on! Cillian Murphy appears to be in Mexico. There is nothing I don't like about this! Adios, amigos! (and amigas.) If you need me, I will be in Mexico. Worrying about my novel and partaking in the medicinal application of tequila and peyote.
EDIT: Oh my God, I have eaten so much bread in the last three days. I have become obsessed with soup & bread. I average six slices of bread to a cup of soup, which is excessive, if not downright revolting! I am having bread guilt. And also eating yet another delicious piece of pea & ham-drenched toast! I am going to become huge. Like the banana. Oh my God! I have got to stop talking about that banana.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
The Semi-Sobriety Project Revisited
Like Brideshead Revisited, but less exciting.
Well! After a week it is safe to say that the Semi-Sobriety Project is (was) an abject failure. It is also safe to say that I have a spot (not relevant, I just noticed that) and an utterly shameful lack of self-control.
Next week I shall restart the SSP in earnest - obviously this week was trial run and therefore doesn't really count. At all.
And now, for Things At Which One Gets No Trial Run -
NaNoWriMo!
I have ceased to dither (I like that phrase) about whether I'm going to do National Novel Writing Month this year. I have decided - blogroll, please - that I AM. Two reasons pushed me over the edge -
1. Bestfriend, who is doing NaNoWriMo herself, said "You have to do it! I will peer pressure you!" I am a sucker for peer pressure (suspect this has a lot to do with the failure of the SSP (Round 1)).
2. Had Idea whilst browsing the Nano forums - will write Adventure novel! Was having a lot of difficulty choosing a genre, but have now settled on that. I think. Perhaps spy thriller, set in the Cambodian jungle, with snakes? (Idea of Bestfriend, who is probably writing something totally grown-up.) I also like the idea of doing something Indiana Jones-esque. It'll give me room to play with cliche a bit, and also to keep it in a light vein rather than having to go all serious and self-examining (I think that was in the wrong tense, but never mind), which I think I would tend to do if I went for Literary Fiction. Sister Flatmate suggested I write 'something semi-autobiographical.' Horrific thought. Not so much because everyone would read the autobiographical bits, but more because everyone would read the semi- bits and think that these were also autobiographical, and say things like, "Did you really pick up some 23-year-old bloke from Plimmerton, who lives with his mum and is excited about starting work at Hallensteins, at Burger King at three in the morning when you were really pissed?" And you say, "No! That is the semi part, not the autobiographical part." But they never believe you.
Story of the day:
This morning, I was going to walk up a (small) mountain with three friends and drink champagne, and watch the sun rise. How lovely, I hear you think! Well. Do you know what time the sun rises? Do you? Neither did I. Turns out that it's about half past five in the morning or something. BEFORE you factor in half an hour to walk up the mountain (I did say it was small), and 20 minutes to walk from your friend's house to the bottom of the mountain, and 20 minutes to walk from your house to theirs, and 5 minutes in the shower, and...
To cut a long story short, I did not get up and see the sunrise.
There will be many, many more, and I will see some of those. Unless there is a NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST this evening (OK let's be honest it may be several months before I see another sunrise, so unless there is a NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST sometime in early March), in which case we will all have far more important things to worry about than watching sunrises. I hear those atomic sunrises are far prettier than our regular ones anyway.
It must be time for another cup of tea.
Well! After a week it is safe to say that the Semi-Sobriety Project is (was) an abject failure. It is also safe to say that I have a spot (not relevant, I just noticed that) and an utterly shameful lack of self-control.
Next week I shall restart the SSP in earnest - obviously this week was trial run and therefore doesn't really count. At all.
And now, for Things At Which One Gets No Trial Run -
NaNoWriMo!
I have ceased to dither (I like that phrase) about whether I'm going to do National Novel Writing Month this year. I have decided - blogroll, please - that I AM. Two reasons pushed me over the edge -
1. Bestfriend, who is doing NaNoWriMo herself, said "You have to do it! I will peer pressure you!" I am a sucker for peer pressure (suspect this has a lot to do with the failure of the SSP (Round 1)).
2. Had Idea whilst browsing the Nano forums - will write Adventure novel! Was having a lot of difficulty choosing a genre, but have now settled on that. I think. Perhaps spy thriller, set in the Cambodian jungle, with snakes? (Idea of Bestfriend, who is probably writing something totally grown-up.) I also like the idea of doing something Indiana Jones-esque. It'll give me room to play with cliche a bit, and also to keep it in a light vein rather than having to go all serious and self-examining (I think that was in the wrong tense, but never mind), which I think I would tend to do if I went for Literary Fiction. Sister Flatmate suggested I write 'something semi-autobiographical.' Horrific thought. Not so much because everyone would read the autobiographical bits, but more because everyone would read the semi- bits and think that these were also autobiographical, and say things like, "Did you really pick up some 23-year-old bloke from Plimmerton, who lives with his mum and is excited about starting work at Hallensteins, at Burger King at three in the morning when you were really pissed?" And you say, "No! That is the semi part, not the autobiographical part." But they never believe you.
Story of the day:
This morning, I was going to walk up a (small) mountain with three friends and drink champagne, and watch the sun rise. How lovely, I hear you think! Well. Do you know what time the sun rises? Do you? Neither did I. Turns out that it's about half past five in the morning or something. BEFORE you factor in half an hour to walk up the mountain (I did say it was small), and 20 minutes to walk from your friend's house to the bottom of the mountain, and 20 minutes to walk from your house to theirs, and 5 minutes in the shower, and...
To cut a long story short, I did not get up and see the sunrise.
There will be many, many more, and I will see some of those. Unless there is a NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST this evening (OK let's be honest it may be several months before I see another sunrise, so unless there is a NUCLEAR HOLOCAUST sometime in early March), in which case we will all have far more important things to worry about than watching sunrises. I hear those atomic sunrises are far prettier than our regular ones anyway.
It must be time for another cup of tea.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
The Semi-Sobriety Project
Today is a day for giving Impressive Names to not-so-impressive things. I shall call it Outrageous Nomination Day! (See, that was a perfect example.)
The Semi-Sobriety Project is basically an experiment to see if I can not be drunk for two whole weeks. (See? Not a very impressive thing.)
It was originally going to be called the Sobriety Project, but it's VB's last day on Friday and I have a party to (possibly) go to on Saturday, so committing to not letting a drop of liquor pass my lips is, well, a little unrealistic. But not getting drunk is very admirable. Even if it is only for two weeks, which is an experimental timeframe. If it works, I'll extend it! (Maybe.) Sigh. It should probably be called the Mini Semi-Sobriety Project. The Mini HalfAssed Semi-Sobriety Project. It needs more strongly defined parameters. It may not even be a good idea...it is definitely a very boring thing to write a blog post about! No, don't even try arguing with me, I'm right.
I don't think anything interesting has happened since last post, really - I've continued to be sick (but have switched to taking medication before bed to eliminate weird side effects all day...this should mean the end of posts like the last one. Just imagine that nonsensical ramble applied to me at work. Yikes. Sorry about last week, work.)
What have I been up to? I was very primitive yesterday - Sal was out, so I sat on the couch and edited and napped and napped and edited and ate and napped and edited. Then I sat up until 2.30am talking to Mr Recent Romance on Facebook Chat (which, incidentally, is not a very romantic way of communicating - somehow, when you spend an hour flirting to get the Big Admission, and then the Big Admission is delivered in the form of "btw, I really like you :p" it's a little disappointing. Somehow. It creases me) and watching Pretty Dirty Things, or Dirty Pretty Things, or British Art Film which was actually very good. It was, I hate to say, pretty much more entertaining than Mr Recent Romance - who decided that while he likes me and would like to get to know me better, he doesn't want anything with strings attached. And we all know what that is subtle code for! Is the romantic equivalent of my Outrageous Nomination Day, I think.
Today I woke up at lunchtime, walked to the dairy, smoked a cigarette (oh, yes, meant to add that to Semi-Sobriety Project (I mean Mini Semi-Sobriety and Non-Smoking or at least Smoking Less, Maybe A Limit of Three A Day Project (this is the least well thought out health initiative ever))), bought the paper and a can of Coke for Sal, came home, made large amounts of coffee, read entire paper (apart from Sport, Business and Property, none of which interest me...perhaps they will when I'm older?) and did both crosswords, two word puzzles, and all three sudoku. Sudoku is a sheep word, isn't it, in that the plural is the same as the singular? one sudoku, three sudoku (all of which I completed, even the Hard one). Who would've thought sudoku and sheep would have something in common.
The Semi-Sobriety Project is basically an experiment to see if I can not be drunk for two whole weeks. (See? Not a very impressive thing.)
It was originally going to be called the Sobriety Project, but it's VB's last day on Friday and I have a party to (possibly) go to on Saturday, so committing to not letting a drop of liquor pass my lips is, well, a little unrealistic. But not getting drunk is very admirable. Even if it is only for two weeks, which is an experimental timeframe. If it works, I'll extend it! (Maybe.) Sigh. It should probably be called the Mini Semi-Sobriety Project. The Mini HalfAssed Semi-Sobriety Project. It needs more strongly defined parameters. It may not even be a good idea...it is definitely a very boring thing to write a blog post about! No, don't even try arguing with me, I'm right.
I don't think anything interesting has happened since last post, really - I've continued to be sick (but have switched to taking medication before bed to eliminate weird side effects all day...this should mean the end of posts like the last one. Just imagine that nonsensical ramble applied to me at work. Yikes. Sorry about last week, work.)
What have I been up to? I was very primitive yesterday - Sal was out, so I sat on the couch and edited and napped and napped and edited and ate and napped and edited. Then I sat up until 2.30am talking to Mr Recent Romance on Facebook Chat (which, incidentally, is not a very romantic way of communicating - somehow, when you spend an hour flirting to get the Big Admission, and then the Big Admission is delivered in the form of "btw, I really like you :p" it's a little disappointing. Somehow. It creases me) and watching Pretty Dirty Things, or Dirty Pretty Things, or British Art Film which was actually very good. It was, I hate to say, pretty much more entertaining than Mr Recent Romance - who decided that while he likes me and would like to get to know me better, he doesn't want anything with strings attached. And we all know what that is subtle code for! Is the romantic equivalent of my Outrageous Nomination Day, I think.
Today I woke up at lunchtime, walked to the dairy, smoked a cigarette (oh, yes, meant to add that to Semi-Sobriety Project (I mean Mini Semi-Sobriety and Non-Smoking or at least Smoking Less, Maybe A Limit of Three A Day Project (this is the least well thought out health initiative ever))), bought the paper and a can of Coke for Sal, came home, made large amounts of coffee, read entire paper (apart from Sport, Business and Property, none of which interest me...perhaps they will when I'm older?) and did both crosswords, two word puzzles, and all three sudoku. Sudoku is a sheep word, isn't it, in that the plural is the same as the singular? one sudoku, three sudoku (all of which I completed, even the Hard one). Who would've thought sudoku and sheep would have something in common.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Tom Petty, Weather, and the Moon
All things which have featured in my evening so far, apart from the Moon.
Looked up Tom Petty on youtube as a) sister's boyfriend's band is, according to many people, Tom Petty-esque and this keeps being mentioned at Gigs - I have been going "mmm" in a thoughtful way and nodding, but felt like I could be caught out at any moment and b) was walking home with friend from work and conversation turned to Tom Petty (as it does - I could recount how conversation turned to TP but would be boring, which this rambling explanation certainly isn't), and I said blithely "...but I do not know who he is," thinking that perhaps many people were not familiar with Tom Petty, but it turns out that actually only barbarians and austrian cellar children have an excuse to not be familiar with aforesaid TP. So now have listened to him on youtube. Turns out I did know songs but did not know name of artist (was Tom Petty). What an anticlimax. What a crappy story. What a terrible blog entry.
The Weather is crap - the Police People are telling people to stay inside! What about people who smoke? The Power People are telling people to worry about power cuts. What about people who will need a shower? The Village People...
I am very much looking forward to the weekend - I am going to use The Storm as an excuse to stay inside. My weekend looks like this -
Friday night: Sit in front of heater, be on internet, watch TV, make soup, make tea.
Saturday: Sit in front of heater, watch DVDS, make soup, make tea.
Sunday: See 'Saturday' with addition of Band at the end of the day. Band is the fly in my ointment. My weekend is ointment. Oint, oint. Weird word. Flatmate Sister is away for the weekend so there is no-one to say things like "Have you moved since this morning?"
Am having DETOX (from alcohol and crappy food; am still smoking like small train as thought it would be unfair on workmates to quit everything at once) until next Friday. Next Friday is Big Work Party! That exclamation mark was completely unjustified. By next Friday I will also have become toned and trim, and my facechub will have melted away like winter snow in the face of the springtime sun that is my exercise regime and lack of eating crap! Wow, that sentence ran away with itself. I do not have poetic soul.
Am now going to make soup - have got packet of dehydrated soup mix (HEARTY soup mix, at that) and also real veges, and chicken stock, and all the other things you are meant to put into soup. Don't think will add noodles though, as they tend to go...gummy.
Why does soup take so bloody long?
Looked up Tom Petty on youtube as a) sister's boyfriend's band is, according to many people, Tom Petty-esque and this keeps being mentioned at Gigs - I have been going "mmm" in a thoughtful way and nodding, but felt like I could be caught out at any moment and b) was walking home with friend from work and conversation turned to Tom Petty (as it does - I could recount how conversation turned to TP but would be boring, which this rambling explanation certainly isn't), and I said blithely "...but I do not know who he is," thinking that perhaps many people were not familiar with Tom Petty, but it turns out that actually only barbarians and austrian cellar children have an excuse to not be familiar with aforesaid TP. So now have listened to him on youtube. Turns out I did know songs but did not know name of artist (was Tom Petty). What an anticlimax. What a crappy story. What a terrible blog entry.
The Weather is crap - the Police People are telling people to stay inside! What about people who smoke? The Power People are telling people to worry about power cuts. What about people who will need a shower? The Village People...
I am very much looking forward to the weekend - I am going to use The Storm as an excuse to stay inside. My weekend looks like this -
Friday night: Sit in front of heater, be on internet, watch TV, make soup, make tea.
Saturday: Sit in front of heater, watch DVDS, make soup, make tea.
Sunday: See 'Saturday' with addition of Band at the end of the day. Band is the fly in my ointment. My weekend is ointment. Oint, oint. Weird word. Flatmate Sister is away for the weekend so there is no-one to say things like "Have you moved since this morning?"
Am having DETOX (from alcohol and crappy food; am still smoking like small train as thought it would be unfair on workmates to quit everything at once) until next Friday. Next Friday is Big Work Party! That exclamation mark was completely unjustified. By next Friday I will also have become toned and trim, and my facechub will have melted away like winter snow in the face of the springtime sun that is my exercise regime and lack of eating crap! Wow, that sentence ran away with itself. I do not have poetic soul.
Am now going to make soup - have got packet of dehydrated soup mix (HEARTY soup mix, at that) and also real veges, and chicken stock, and all the other things you are meant to put into soup. Don't think will add noodles though, as they tend to go...gummy.
Why does soup take so bloody long?
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