Funky

I am in a Funk. An Existential Funk. I am Existentially Funky. This is mainly because I started the day with an enormous piece of leftover cake and felt ill, which somehow brought on one of those days where you sit about going "Oh GOD I am WASTING my LIFE oh GOD I am WASTING MY LIFE!" Of course I don't expect you to know what I MEAN because you actually DO THINGS with your LIFE UNLIKE ME OH GOD I AM WASTING MY LIFE OH GOD.

Oh well at least I am not a hedgehog. Maybe I should count my blessings.

- do not have painful, life-threatening disease
- do not know anyone with PLTD
- have coffee, friends, family etc etc
- am not homeless
- have $5 to my name which is more than usual
- do not have awful boyfriend/husband
- do not have frostbite
- do not have a boil on my bum
- have all my fingers & toes
- tiramisu was a resounding success
- Andrea has an agent (really one of her blessings, but oh well)
- my face is more or less symmetrical
- spotted 14 different bird species on recent nature walk
- have lots of lovely shoes
- am not hungry at the moment
- no mortgage (although also no house)
- will not be made redundant (do not have job)
- am not likely to be hunted for sport
- have life insurance (and am therefore a grown-up)


Not-blessings

- do not have job, money, career, degree, assets, or life plan.


Sorry about the poor-quality blogs recently - will work on this. In the meantime, please feel free to amuse yourselves by leaving Ally-affirming comments. Or, if you like, you can leave comments about how I have nothing to complain about and am being selfish OH GOD

Bits & Pieces

Real post later in the day when I am less busy. For now, here are some (generally non-blog) links to sites I like to go and read. Maybe you could go and read them too.


List of the Day - random lists. Some of them are awesome. I think I might try to get them to run my haiku.


Photoshop Disasters - just like it says on the tin. Ads that have somehow managed to slip through ten levels of QC and end up being published despite their Glaring Errors.


Lovely Listings - poorly chosen photos from real estate listings! It is amazing how many people try to sell their house with a picture of something really awful.


Fuck My Life - nice little stories from people who are having a far, far worse day than you are.

One Sentence - true stories told in one sentence. Range from the poignant to the hilarious.


Overheard In New York - you know how sometimes you're at the supermarket and you hear a random snippet of conversation?


Yeah I know that was a cop-out (and a badly formatted one at that) but there will be a real post later.

Homewares*

*no, actually. Prepare to be boreded.

I am reading the Home Care catalogue. I think I enjoy it because the writers get so excited about all kinds of revolutionary new kitchen/household essentials that I have never missed and yet suddenly couldn't possibly live without. The word 'ingenious' pops up a lot. Here are my 10 favourites from this issue.

1. Tomato Timer, $9.90. "Why choose a timer you'd rather hide away, when this one will brighten up your kitchen! Six centimetres in diameter, it looks just like a ripe tomato!" Why use the timer on the oven, when you could use a timer that not only emits a 'loud, clear signal' when the time is up (presumably a beep, although if tomatoes made noises I'm pretty sure they'd use that) but can also be confused with your 'kitschy cool' tomato sauce bottle!

2. Double Spoon Rest, $8.90. "When you have two saucepans bubbling away on the stovetop, you'll appreciate this double spoon rest when it comes time to stir." All those years I spent just chucking my spoons on the bench, or holding the spare spoon in my other hand! Thank God I never have to do that again. Home Care you are a revolution.

3. Muffin and Cupcake Stand, $28.90. "Make it easy for your guests to reach out and select the most delicious looking cupcake or muffin!" Excuse me? My guests will take the cupcake or muffin closest to them like civilized people do. Just because your guests were born in a barn.

4. Musical Cake Slicer, $9.90. "Get the party started with this musical cake slice - as soon as you grasp the handle it plays a chorus of 'Happy Birthday.' Even the most self-conscious singers will be tempted to join in!" I bet they will, the first time. Have just read that it will play the tune up to 100 times! Actually I kind of really want this.

5. Banana Guard, $6.90. "No more bruised bananas! The clip-close ventilated plastic case will help prevent bruising and squashing of your banana." I bet the person at the patent office was really excited about this one. It would be simply invaluable if I liked bananas.

6. Onion Keeper, $11.90. "This handy onion-shaped plastic container will make it easy to find cut onion when stored in the fridge!" Thank fuck someone invented this! I am so sick of spending hours rummaging through the fridge trying to find my onion.

7. Stainless Steel 'Soap' with Holder, $9.90. "Incredible as it sounds, rubbing this stainless steel 'soap' between your hands under rubbing water will reduce even persistent odours like onion, fish, and garlic!" I really want to know how this works. Maybe I should buy one. Hey, it's only ten bucks, right? No! Don't give in! That is exactly what they want you to think!

8. Handy Grabber, $21.90. "Now your arms can be 85cm longer with this lightweight aluminium handygrabber!" Woo! I am going to be so awesome at tennis now. Wait 'til I tell the guys.

9. Ice Tubes, $16.90. "At last, the ice cube that fits a bottle or flask!" Quite seriously I really want these. They are test-tube shaped ice cube trays. INGENIOUS

10. Self-Cleaning Clothes Brush, $14.90. "It also has a handy self-cleaning function - just open the back to remove the dirt." Yay, a self-cleaning brush! All I have to do is...wait, remove the dirt? Kinda sounds like I still have to clean it. I'm pretty sure they wouldn't lie, though. Hold on while I find a definition of 'clean.' Oh. "To get rid of dirt, soil, etc.*" Wait, that means it's not self-cleaning at all! I'm onto you, you brush. That product should have a disclaimer. "Brush Is Not Actually Self-Cleaning. You Still Have To Clean This Brush."

11. Ironing board cover, $19.90. "The metallised finish on this space-age ironing board cover reflects heat from your iron back into the fabric making the job faster, easier, and more effective." I'm not sure if it was the phrase 'space-age ironing board cover,' my disappointing experience with the 'self-cleaning' brush, or the word 'metallised,' but I am calling bullshit on this one.


There are also a couple of decent bathroom thingies, notably the Pebble Design Bath Mat, which "may look like a layer of pebbles," presumably if pebbles were by nature bright blue and something it was normal to have in your shower; and the Over Tank Toilet Roll Holder, which proclaims 'It's always reassuring to have an extra roll or two of toilet paper at hand.' Wise words, Home Care, wise words.

Also, there is a product called White Wizard which is 'guaranteed to remove most stains.' Sounds a bit like a readymade loophole to me. "Hello, White Wizard Customer Service? Your product didn't remove my stain, and I want my money back." "Unfortunately, madam, White Wizard is only guaranteed to remove most, not all, stains." "OK, so which stains doesn't it work on?" "Your one." (They do have a list of stains that the product will remove and stains that it won't, but that wasn't my initial impression.)

I had a dream last night that I worked at a restaurant I did in fact work at once upon a time. I was madly in love with a co-worker, which was also the case in real life, and he had a girlfriend (also the case in real life). Then I stole lots of money to feed a starving family (I know, it is a little out of character) and he found out at shouted at me and I was distraught and destroyed the entire building in Godzilla-esque rage. Wish the second half of the dream had also been based on a true story.

Sorry about this insanely fucking dull ramble slightly sub-par post; in my defens/ce I have gotten a veritable buttload of writing done today. You can tell I'm a writer because I use words like 'buttload.' Better post tomorrow. Please come back.


*Dictionary.com

music/biology/literature*

*original title: songs/bugs/vampires

Andrea suggested yesterday that I make a list of Inappropriate Songs to Make Love To. "It would be inappropriate on my blog," she said. Anyway, the following songs are definitely not baby-makin' music. Feel free to add to this list.

- 'Don't Stop Me Now' (I'm having such a good time!)
- 'Baby Got Back' ('Fat Bottomed Girls' is also not a good choice)
- 'The Macarena' (especially if you do the actions. see also: 'the Birdie Dance')
- 'Lily the Pink'
- 'Keep On Movin''
- 'Uptown Girl'
- 'Man! I feel like a woman'
- 'Leader of the Pack' (especially if you make the motorbike noises)
- 'Who let the dogs out' (and anything else that has a couple of beats of silence before launching back into the chorus)
- 'The Point of No Return' (although if you timed it right it could be pretty epic - 'I Like The Way You Move' and 'Javert's Suicide' from Les Mis also fall into this category)

Stand-up comedy is also not a good thing to leave on in the background. Neither is any song that encourages that classic despoiler of romance, Inappropriate Air Guitar. (You think I'm kidding about IAG, don't you.)

Have decided that all weird insect behaviour makes a lot more sense when you factor in insect gameshows. Like when a bee is trying to get in the house, or flying around your head, he is probably on Bee Who Dares Wins. And when a spider abseils down from the ceiling and tries to land on your face, he's probably squeezing his eyes closed and trying desperately to remember what 50k in spider money would mean to his family.

I am currently reading 'Twelve' by cba actually getting the book and checking but if anyone cares I'll add it later. The basic premise is this: Russia in 1812, from the point of view of undercover Russian soldiers trying to sabotage the activities of the ever-advancing French army. Also there are - wait for it - vampires. It's actually a lot better than I thought it was going to be - read a truly awful book once called 'New World Order,' in which the English Civil War was interrupted by a random faction of time-and-or-space-travelling caveman people from the futuuuure. It was truly truly awful. But the 'again, with vampires' version of the war of 1812 is actually pretty entertaining.

It began as a desperate attempt to keep the ever-approaching French army at bay, but it ended as a war against an ancient enemy of humanity itself. (Not the actual tagline, but it was something like that.)

I just accidentally flashed the postman.

In The Last 24 Hours I Did All Of These Things!* NOW WITH SPIDER

*more or less in this order, too

- Woke up at 3am knowing with complete certainty that a) I was about to vomit and b) under no circumstances could I vomit in my bed. Obviously the only thing I could do was vomit out my window. Then go straight back to sleep. Then wake up having forgotten about this entirely and only remembering when reminded by my startled and not altogether pleased mother. Jesus.

- Waterblasted bright orange vomit (previous evening's Butter Chicken making an unexpected comeback) off the side of the house.

- Waterblasted bright orange vomit off the dog.

- Saw the best white trash hairstyle ever! It was being sported by a spotty blond boy who looked like someone on a long-haul flight who has just realised that their seatmate stepped in dogshit prior to getting on the plane. The boy had a big long stringy fringe brushed straight forward and gelled down onto his head - the overall theme of the hairdo was 'stringy.' At the crown of his head he'd constructed a (stringy) Mohawk, and this continued down the back of his head, until it reached his neck. Then it turned into a stringy mullet. It looked pretty much like this -The reason he looks kind of smug because he's thinking about how freakin' awesome his hair is.

- Saw a small boy riding a bike along the footpath (resisted the urge to shout "Retard," you'll be pleased to hear). The weird part is that he had one hand on the handlebars, and was using the other hand to steady a small push scooter he was pulling along beside him. I know that he was probably taking it to a friend's house to play, or something, but it looked ridiculous, Biking Boy with Scooter. Almost said, "Hey, your dog's fallen off" but thought better of it. Am coming to realise that not many of the things I did in the last 24 hours are all that interesting.

- Thought that the reason for a small girl in the supermarket staring at me was because she was in awe of my beauty and sophistication and totally wanted to be like me when she grew up. Actually it was because my top had fallen open and a boob had popped out. Jesus.

- Spent three hours cooking! It was great. I made a pumpkin korma, a pork vindaloo and a somewhat strange but still tasty prawn & chicken kerala-style curry (whatever kerala-style is (strange but still tasty, presumably.)) I count it as a success. Speaking of which, you know what always succeeds? A toothless budgie. Boom boom.

- Not related, but people who say "children are the future" annoy me. Not only is it really quite a pompous thing to say but children are blatantly not the future. I mean, yes, of course I see what you're getting at, but technically nothing is the future except, you know, tomorrow & dates after that. It's like saying "children are eggs." Children are not eggs or the future they are children!

Tomorrow, jetpacks.

Why do mice have very small balls?
Not that many of them know how to dance.

EDIT: I also saved my grandmother from a spider! She has a lot of grey, wispy & perhaps somewhat weblike hair - she was saying something to me at the Indian dinner yesterday (does donating a couple of dishes of food along make me an Indian giver?) - when I noticed there was a rather large (and intrepid) spider in her hair. Nana is 92 and I wasn't sure how she would react to a spider crawling onto her face (i.e. with heart attack), so I had to act quickly and basically the end of the story is that I reached over and removed the spider by making it crawl onto my hand. I am very brave. Spiders are not pleasant. But it didn't bite me, Nana didn't have a heart attack, and we all lived happily ever after. (Including the spider.) I did, however, have a nasty dream about spiders last night.

Award!

Andrea gave me a blog award! It is called the Luv Ya award (getting the little image on my blog proved more complicated than expected) and here is the qualifier...

"These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."

Please ignore that part about delivering the award to 8 bloggers etc etc, because a) I don't know that many bloggers and b) even if I did I'd be far too lazy I mean shy to link all their blogs on here. Instead, in celebration, I have decided to post a picture of someone who has had Hello Kitty tattooed on their arse! Image from kittyhell.com.

"Fuck yeah."

Perhaps I should launch my own blog award - the Hello Kitty ArseTat Award. For any blogs out there which are bizarre and slightly offensive, and yet somehow strangely awesome.

On reflection, I'm pretty sure this doesn't need to be limited to the internet; the term "HK Arsetat" could become this year's 'chillax.' (Only better.)

Possible Real-Life Applications of 'HKArsetat'

Me: "I read on the Internet about this guy who could lift 20 kilos with his penis."
You: "Wow...wow. I don't know if that's impressive or retarded."
Me: "I know...HKArsetat, right?"

You: "Oh my God! Look at that guy, he is so cute!"
Me: "I wouldn't say...cute, exactly. He's kind of..."
You: "Gorgeous?"
Me: "...HKArsetat."

On second thoughts, it may not catch on as well as I'd hoped. But, you know, next time you see something impressive yet retarded, consider using HKArsetat. It's...well, you know.

Anyway, now for some actual news: I quit my horrid job! Yesterday! Was sitting at my desk all morning, thinking about how much I hated it ("Mrs Button, please?"), and fantasising about quitting at morning tea time, when suddenly I realised that there was actually nothing stopping me from doing just that. So I hopped onto Google chat and said to Andrea, "I hate my job and want to quit!" Andrea, who is always a good influence, said, "Yes, do! Will be Awesome." And so I did, and it was! For anyone who's never walked out of a job they really hate partway through the day and completely without regret, I totally recommend it. Especially if your last act within the walls of your building is to wave cheerily at your now-ex-workmates and bum a cigarette off your (obnoxious) now-ex-boss.

CC came over all shy and said that if I stayed he'd stop throwing paper planes at me - amazingly, I left despite this. I have escaped! I mean resigned. So yes! Am now cheerfully unemployed once more. Looking for a job, of course, but this time I'm going to get one which doesn't make me hate myself and everyone around me. Mind you, I did learn some interesting things about a) being unprofessional and b) last names you wouldn't wish on anyone (Death, Goldsack, Wiggle, Balls, Lepper).

In honour of my now-ex-job, here are (in no particular order (don't know why I still say that, my lists are never in any particular order)) my Five Favourite Telemarketing Moments.

1. Best Brush-off Ever
Me: "Good morning, this is Ally calling from Telemarketing Company. How're you?"
Man: "Fine, but also not interested! Bye!" *click*
Close second: the Asian woman who asked, very hesitantly, "...can I leave?"

2. Best Case of Mistaken Identity Ever
CC, on phone: "I'm Chris, what's your first name? Dickie? *pause* Oh...oh...Vicky."
Close second to the woman who, obviously expecting a call, answered the phone with, "Hi, David! How are you?" (My response: "Good! But not David.")

3. Best Insult (to Customer) Ever
There's a tie here, between Chris's "What do you mean you can't speak English? You were speaking it before!" and my conversation, below:
Me: "Mr Wallis, please."
Mr Wallis: "Some people call me that."
Me, cheerily and without any thought: "I don't even want to know what the rest call you!"

Best Cheesy Telemarketer Phrase Ever
Me: "Hi, it's Ally calling from a Telemarketing Company. We're currently looking for lovely people who'd like to go on a fantastic holiday beyond your wildest dreams, at prices lower than you've ever dreamed of, and we were wondering if perhaps you might be one of those people!"
Close second: Chris, with "Get away on a truly fantastic resort holiday at an absolutely ridiculously low price!"
Honorable mentions:
"Come on, Mr Cooper, I know you want to do this!" - Gabrielle, three times during one call
"You sound like a lovely lady..." - Chris, to every female customer

5. Best Phrase Ever
"It'll only take a minute. Just hang up if you get bored."

Today at work I...

- delivered the immortal line, "Is Mr Wiggle available, please?"

- had the following exchange. Me: "Is Mr Jones available?" Woman on other end of phone: "No, he's dead." Me: (hang up because for some reason this gave me the giggles despite being entirely unfunny.) Jesus.

- had the following exchange. Me: "blah blah cheap holidays." Elderly-sounding gent on other end of phone: "Actually I can't take holidays, I just had a quadruple bypass." I was about to say "Gosh, that's fair enough!" then laugh gaily and hang up, but the gentleman continued with, "It didn't work, so I don't have very long to live." Oh. My. God. Oh my God! He was so nice, though, rattled on about how he used to live in Christchurch. Was terrified my boss would hear - he is the type of person who would have said, in response to quadruple bypass question, "Well, what better way to spend the time you've got than on a relaxing resort holiday?" No, actually. That is the sort of thing I am meant to say. I'm not sure I'm pushy enough for this job.

- coined the unique phrase, "Well, if that's your cup of tea, I'll just...leave you to enjoy it." Was talking to a woman who didn't give a hoot about our resort holidays because she enjoys backpacking. Got halfway through the sentence and realised I had no idea where I was going. You are welcome to use this exquisite phrase, but please be aware that I do eventually intend to copyright it.

- wondered if perhaps being a hooker would have been a better route

- giggled at my 'root' pun for, like, 5 minutes

- had a bubble-gum blowing contest with a couple of colleagues (did not win)

- discovered that cute colleague is 17 (!) and that I am cradle-snatcher. Whoops

- did not make any sales. Cute colleague (CC, for future reference - have decided to blog about workmates as it would be highly unlike me to say anything unflattering) was the only person to make a sale. Have decided he is not cute after all, but jumped-up upstart with poor taste in shirts. Hmph.

- drew a penguin

- made a paper dart

- died inside, just a titchy bit

Ten Facts About My New Job*

*technically nine as one of them is actually about kickboxing

1. It is a telemarketing job, signing people up for membership in a program which gets you discounted holiday accommodation. We are meant to "Have Fun" and "Tell The Truth-" except, apparently, when saying things like 'this deal is only being offered to 20 people,' even though it's like totally being offered to everyone. Maybe we say this because we don't expect any more than 20 to sign up as they're are all too busy telling us telemarketers (whoops, no, am not meant to say that - is 'telesales') people to fuck off.

2. Speaking of which, today I was told to fuck off twice! I am going to keep a chart of how often I am told this. I shall call it the Fuckoffometer. Sounds vaguely Russian, doesn't it? Maybe like a Russian tennis player. Anna Fuckoffometer. This is going to one of those jobs where I sit there all day bored out of my nut then come home and blog myself into insensibility, just to use up all those excess thoughts.

3. I am afraid to blog about any of my new colleagues in case I get excited (read: drunk) and tell them all about My Wonderful Blog. But then if I didn't blog about them, there would be no fun. Am still coming to a decision about this.

4. Have made usual rule about not shagging workmates. Expect it to last as long as usual i.e. until first staff party - ha ha, just kidding! :/

5. I am out of facts already. It is just that boring of a job.

6. But it is quite well-paid for what it is. Usually I am told to fuck off for free.

7. Probably because I don't get a company email address.

8. And one of my bosses spells that noise birds make 'churping.'

9. Luckily, I have started learning kickboxing. Can I take a moment to mention how much it rocks? I have only been to one lesson and I already feel significantly more badass. Also, apparently I am a natural (!!) although the telemarketing (whoops, telesales) people said that as well, didn't they. Maybe I am just a natural at everything.

10. Fact 10 is a graph. A pie graph! I am expanding my repertoire.

This graph is about How I Spent My Day.
It's fuzzy. I'm sorry.

Bad Morning

This morning was among the worst wake-up calls ever: Kate running into my room and flinging herself full-length on my bed, which I was sleeping in. I went "Ack Ack Gahhhh" and hid under the covers, then she yanked them off and shouted, with no little excitement, "I was going to make you a cup of tea and I put the bag in the cup but then just as I was about to pour in the hot water two flies flew in the cup and started mating in it!!"

"What?"

Right up there. Here, in no particular order except the order in which I remember them, are the Top Five Worst Awakenings Of My Life:

5: That one

4: Waking up from a nightmare in which my upper lip was grotesquely swollen and running to the bathroom mirror to reassure myself that it was only a dream...only to find that a bug had bitten me in my sleep and my lip was in fact grotesquely swollen. Terrifying! And I looked like Homer Simpson for a week.

3: Either of the two times I've left my alarm on silent by accident, woken up at 10am, and had that awful sick moment when you realise you're two hours late for work and there's nothing you can do about it.

2: Waking up on the last morning of band contest in Auckland, still a) wearing a cocktail dress and heels and b) quite drunk, to very shrill-voiced cornet player shouting "The bus leaves in five minutes!"

1: Waking up at 7.30am, after an hour of sleep, in an extremely over-wrought emotional state and completely exhausted, to realise that my bus left in five minutes from somewhere on the other side of town, and I was moving from Christchurch to Wellington that day and had connections to make. And I was drunk and in Dunedin, on The Longest Day Of My Life.

Have I told you the story of TLDOMY? No? (Yes?) Well, it is a Cautionary Tale featuring a Man (who played the Euphonium; need I say more?) a lot of alcohol; a missed bus; sobering up on a plane; moving CITIES; the ferry, and a backpackers. I was going to tell the entire story, in my usual amusing manner, but it would be a long story & I am tired. If there is much clamouring to hear it then perhaps it is a story for another day; but if not you will have to make do with...yes! This graph.


Anyway, poor start aside (mistyped poor as 'porn' there, which is a different story entirely), it was quite a good day - I went to the museum, partially to see Fred & Myrtle's Paua House and also because my mother made me. Fred & Myrtle's Paua House was a tourist attraction for 40 years or so - a retired couple ran it, and it was open 7 days a week, 8 hours a day. They took their 70th wedding anniversary off, but that was it. They didn't charge, and any donations people gave were donated to charities. When they died, their living room was uplifted and installed in the Christchurch Museum. Apparently the whole paua house thing started when Myrtle told Fred to get his polished paua shells off the living room floor, because they were getting in the way of the vacuum cleaner. Fred, displaying a slight passive-aggressive streak, did this:



Which sure showed Myrtle.

Leggings. They aren't trousers.*

*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.

Boring Load Follows

Without further ado - without any ado - here is the list of things I'm going to do tomorrow. Because I have run out of anything even mildly interesting to write about. I really need to get a job before I go mad from boredom and/or spending too much time in my own company but in the meantime this is what you get.

Tomorrow's To Do List

- Call recruitment agencies with a view to setting up interviews later in the week. One of the agencies will say, "Oh, come in this afternoon!" and, because I don't want to seem unmotivated, I will say "Great! Sure! Love to!" and then really quickly write my CV from scratch because the only copy I have was on my old work computer, do a half-assed job of ironing one of the ten kabillion shirts I thought it would be a great idea to bring to Chch, throw some makeup in the general direction of my face and try to remember how to answer psychometric testing questions in a non-psychopathic way.

- Do immense pile of ironing. I only realised this morning, taking in the second load of washing (for about a week before I moved I thought 'why bother washing that, I can wash it at home' - nice), that I really enjoyed living in a house without an iron. It was an ironclad (ha ha) excuse to be consistently wrinkled. I don't think my life was any worse for the wrinkles, but now that I have iron access it seems lazy to be all creased - although if you think about it some of history's greatest figures were creased. Alexander the Great. Caesar. Jesus.

- Spend an entertaining half hour trying to make my sheet into a toga.

- Find polite way to decline presumptuous acquaintance's offer of sexual relations. This offer came in yesterday and, for the life of me, I am having trouble finding a nice way to rephrase "NO." ('Nice' is loosely defined as 'any answer which doesn't include the word 'fuck.'') I am too polite, that's what my problem is. Strangely this is never what the psychometric tests say.

- Call doctor's and demand appointment - they were meant to call me today but this hasn't happened. They always do this - take my money, take my blood, take my emotions, and then leave me sitting by the phone. Perhaps medical receptionists are trained by uncommunicative boyfriends. Perhaps they are just disorganised.

- Wander down to camera shop and ask about digital cameras. Say "hmm" a lot and nod thoughtfully, then buy the prettiest one. Take lots of pointless photos ('look how long my toenails are!') and upload them to this blog, then become disappointed when no-one comments on my immense attractiveness. However, this is only because everyone knows I'm not good at politely refusing offers of sexual relations and they don't want me to hurt their feelings.

That's about it, really. Maybe get some writing done (yes get some writing done, I am being hideously slack and this blog is just one more procrastination tool) and eat something. Start a webcomic. Start a band. Start a relationship. Start a revolution. Ick.

Have decided that I'm coming up (so you better get the party started) to Wellington in a couple of weeks (or thereabouts). Think of Wellington as the parent with limited visitation rights. You know, the one that lets you have things Christchurch doesn't (alcohol and one night stands), and tells you stories you never really needed to know. GOD I miss Wellington!

Side note: why is it that every superhero, fantasy or war movie I watch I find the good guy kind of annoying and the bad guy kind of cute? Either these things need to be cast better or I need to pay more attention to the psychometric test results.

Things That Rock (or not)

I have half an hour to kill before wandering off to yet another doctor's appointment, so here are a couple of little lists. Think of them as a "going up/going down" kind of thing. Because I have my finger so firmly on the pulse of society.

HOT

- Kung Fu Panda. They are not kidding when they say 'Prepare for Awesomeness.' I don't particularly enjoy kids' movies, mainly because I am a Grown Up, and I have a special level of disdain reserved for anything Pixar/Disney/Dreamworks did after they found Nemo, but I freakin' love this movie. If you have not watched it, watch it. And then say what Kate did. ("I would probably have enjoyed it but you hyped it up way too much.")

- The weather. In a meteorological sense. It is so hot right now.

- Smashbox makeup. Ridiculously expensive, but totally worth it. It's designed for photographers' models, and the Halo Powder (a mineral foundation, also very 'in' right now) has magic properties. You know how normally, when someone takes a photo of you after two glasses of wine, your face is red and shiny? When you're wearing Halo Powder it isn't. (It won't do anything about your double chin and the wine you spilt on your top, though.)

- Jase at the Genesis Energy contact centre in Hamilton. I called him yesterday to do power-bill related things and he was awesome! I'm always pleasantly surprised when I get a CSR who is helpful and intelligent. Jase, you are meant for better things. Also you sound kind of cute so if you're reading this leave me a comment with your phone number or something.

- Christchurch's bus system. So much better than Wellington's. The buses actually arrive! More often than not, they arrive on time! There are also little electronic things at the bus stops that you can look at to see exactly how long it will be until your bus arrives. (Not so cool is the set fare of $2.80 to anywhere, but then I guess you can't have everything.)


NOT

- Blogger's perverse attempts to control my use of bold and italics. God damn it, Blogger! When I hit Ctrl+I again, it means I no longer want my writing to be slanted to the (hold on while I scroll up) right. You're a computer. You should be able to do this. It's not rocket science. Although computers can probably do that too, so basically there is no excuse for your cavalier disregard for my typeface preferences.

- Walking. I forgot that Christchurch's nice, relaxed layout (as opposed to Wellington, which appears to have been designed by a really easily distracted town planner who did the layout the night before it was due, while he was drunk) means that you can't walk anywhere in less than half an hour. Dumb ol' Chch.

- Living with family. Yes, they are my family, and yes, I love them, but frankly I feel I am now too old to be nagged about shutting the fridge. For the love of God, mother! I am just pouring a glass of juice! It will take about 15 seconds! Mum: "But all the cold will fall out."

- The heat. I know it's on both lists but that's just because I was being clever. I'm not enjoying the heat - it's too much. It's like someone in Hell (which is directly under Chch, obviously) has opened their oven door and sent a huge rush of hot, stale air up into the city. ("But I'm just taking out the roast! It'll take, like, 15 seconds!")

Fuzzy

I have been in the wars a bit this week – power has been cut off (thank you, Sister Flatmate), burnt hand while cooking (before power cut off, obviously), came down with Mysterious Illness (blood tests today, whee), and lost all my hair in somewhat Britney-esque incident which has led everyone to think I am mental and studiously not comment. Am not actually mental. Am fuzzy, though! (On my head.)

I am not feeling festive yet. Christmas has not kicked in, despite the usual profusion of tinsel and carols. I want candy canes. I’m not sure if it’s the no-electricity, the working-through, the mystery illness, the no-hair, the staying in Wellington or a combination of all of these, but I AM NOT FESTIVE. I want turkey. Now. And maybe also a bagel. TURKEY ON A BAGEL.

So, in an attempt to launch myself piebald head-first into the Silly Season, here is a list of

Silver Linings

1. No electricity means that a) I appreciate the little things in life, like showers and lightbulbs, so much more and b) when it gets, dark, I can light a candle and snuggle up in bed with my book, which is nice (albeit in a primitive sort of way), and c) if it’s good enough for the Amish, it’s good enough for me and d) it makes me feel better about going to work, because at work I can have a shower and e) it might serve as catalyst for SF to finally pay the power bill.

2. No hair means that a) I will save on shampoo and b) I look like Sinead O’Conner (well, not really, but I am pretending), and c) I have a huge packet of crisps, which is irrelevant but I thought I’d mention it, and d) I will not be getting any unwanted male attention (or any male attention at all, for that matter), and e) I will not have to worry about weather ruining my hair, because there is no hair to ruin! Well, hardly any. Also I can rub my own head for luck!

3. Mysterious Illness means that I can lounge about and not do anything and no-one will say “shift your lazy arse” because you aren’t allowed to say that to sick people. Wish SF wasn’t back at home, though, I was quite enjoying living by myself – she will attempt to make me Do Things, when actually I am being grouchy and ill and antisocial and don’t want to do anything with anybody. Think I might try to spend most of the festive season out of the house.

People keep walking past and trying very hard not to look at my hair.

EDIT:

Ok, I am feeling better now - considering sponging $$ off my dear Daddy (and by 'sponging' I mean 'borrowing') and going to his house for Christmas as he won't be doing anything and, probably, neither will I. (Cooking Christmas dinner is out as I have Mysterious Illness and am a little wary of giving it to all my friends until I know what it is, at which point they can all suffer with me.) Am also heartened by the thought of Midnight Mass, which I will be going to unless I fall asleep, and Ashton evening up my hair tonight, thus making me look slightly less like I've been attacked by a lawnmower and (hopefully) more, you know, intentionally short-haired.

Have just received an email from my boss about a process change, saying "I'm sure you're all across this." What? Metaphorically? Yeah, dude, I'm across it like hollandaise on eggs. I'm across it like Hannibal and the Alps. I'm across it like yo' mama on a hot dog. Huh.

Comment of the day, made by a colleague of mine on a phone call: "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound rascist just there..." Wish I'd heard whatever no doubt sparklingly inapproprite comment preceded that.

Wonder if he made the sale?

Christmas Fears

‘It is like trying to untangle a seething mass of worms with your bare hands and you’re looking at the worms through a kaleidoscope.’

I have developed a completely irrational, paranoid fear that during my preparations for Christmas Dinner something will go horribly wrong. Fears include, but are not limited to,
· The desserts will not set
· The chicken will not be cooked properly and I will give everyone festive food poisoning
· My inner gay man will take over and I will impetuously colour everything with red or green food colouring, then instantly regret it
· I will be stuffing the chicken at the last minute and the stuffing will not go in the chicken/come right out the neck of the chicken/fall on the floor
· I will get my hand stuck in the chicken
· Everything will be HORRIBLE and everyone will have a BAD TIME!

I realise that none of these things are very likely to happen, especially the last one – my friends are a resilient lot and in the relatively unlikely event that everything is over- or under-cooked to the point of inedibility, they’ll just laugh at me, get pissed and order pizza, which is why I like them.

My hand might get stuck in the chicken, though – this is yet one more reason to not start drinking during Christmas Day, no matter what my deputy chef may suggest. I do not want my guests to arrive to find me and Ashton (aforesaid deputy chef and your co-host for the evening) blind drunk in the kitchen attempting to make frozen chicken hand puppets do the can-can, while all around us things bubble frantically, boil over and caramelise on the stove. That would be a little embarrassing.

I am also putting off the vomitous horror that is (relatively) last-minute Christmas shopping. Why do I have so damn many family members? I am beginning to understand why people go on killing sprees more often during the holiday season than at any other time of year – to cut down on the number of cards and presents required, that’s why. I think this year I might just smile in a Buddha-like manner and say in “Your present is my presence.”

Do you know what song I do not like? Oh Girl by Cut off Your Hands. It is a booty call txt set to music. The tune’s very catchy, but unfortunately I can’t enjoy it due to the hideously tawdry lyrics. Example:
“Oh girl/Can you come over to my house?/Oh we can do things that we’ve never done/We can just talk it can be such fun…” Gosh, Cut off Your Hands, if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that I’d probably have about as many dollars as you’ve sold records. Like, FIVE.

Grumble grumble grumble

Today is full of things to grumble about. Here are some of them.

1. . It was raining hard this morning, and all four of my umbrellas were at work (because I am Prepared but only in one direction (and also an idiot)), so by the time I got to my new favourite coffee shop I was soaked. However, my drowned-rat appearance, complete with hair plastered to head, bedraggled eyelashes and water seeping in the side of shoes, was neither here nor there because -

2. My new favourite café favourite staff member wasn’t working, so I didn’t get any small talk with my coffee, just coffee. Not that there’s anything wrong with coffee, but I don’t get up ten minutes early in the mornings to have a special cup of coffee, do I? No, I get up ten minutes early so that I can walk to the coffee shop and banter wittily with the waiter, not that my banter is particularly witty at twenty past seven. Actually wait, what, my banter is witty all the time.

3. I had to stand up on the bus and the bus was HOT and MUGGY and I was GRUMPY (except for a short stretch after a young suit, who had been standing nonchalantly playing a game on his phone and pointedly not holding onto anything (as a mark of his urbane smoothness), lost his balance on a corner and nearly landed on someone). But the bus was not very much fun.

4. Work has been boring all day – this has contributed to my irritation exactly no more or less than any other day when work is boring (all of them), but it is still annoying. Actually, it’s not even annoying, it’s just rather draining. Ah well. Only 15 days to go and maybe we will have a fire drill this afternoon (although considering the weather a flood drill would be more likely – I wonder how you set off the flood alarm? Probably same alarm, really, isn’t it).

5. Sister Flatmate owes $500 on the power bill, which is in my name, and even though it’s way overdue she keeps saying she’ll pay it & not paying it, and there’s only so much I can nag before she gets really nasty and angry. I have offered to pay it and for her to pay me back, but her horror at this idea is overshadowed only by her apparent total inability to actually pay the bill. Also, I don’t want to pay it for her (I’ll never see the money again), but it’s in my name and it’ll be my credit history going down the drain. Have no idea what to do about this. Would pay it for her and give up on getting it back, but can’t really afford to. This is really, really stressing me out. She’s also going to argue the power bill is wrong, put off paying it for months, insist on calling the company to make sure it’s right, get all the statements, and generally put off making a payment until a) I go back to Chch or b) the power gets switched off. I don’t want to lose $500 just because she’s a bully, but I think I’m going to be left without many other options.

6. Spoke to horrible customer service representative from the bank – I won’t bother telling the story, but here is the feedback I gave them. "This morning I received a message to call (this number) re: payment of my outstanding personal loan. I was eventually transferred to a very nice and helpful woman in the legal team, but my call was initially answered by a very abrupt CSR called Richard who transferred me with no explanation, didn't let me know why the message was left on my answerphone and didn't stop talking long enough for me to ask any questions. This would've been forgivable if he hadn't adopted the threatening tone of a Mob enforcer throughout the call - I can only hope my modest $2000 of debt doesn't merit a horse's head appearing in my account overnight."

He was really rude. Although the feedback did make me feel a bit better.

And straight after that call, I answered the work phone and it was someone I’d never spoken to before, who was expecting a colleague of mine to send him some paperwork, which had not materialized. Before I got to say anything besides “Welcome to (company), you’re speaking with Ally,” customer – well, potential customer, and he referred to himself as that too, which I always think is rude, it’s such a blatant way to try and get preferential treatment – “I’m reminding you of my enormous importance to your business.” “Sir, you will make our business about fifty dollars a year if that. For the pleasure of not dealing with you, I’ll pay that myself,” is what I always want to say – went into a huge rant about how if this was the sort of service he could expect then he wouldn’t expect very much in the future rah rah. Was very, very close to saying “Actually, if you’re going to talk to us like that I’m not sure why you’re surprised,” and hang up, but didn’t. Just paused and sighed. Pretty sure he was offended. Also pretty sure I should’ve hung up…next time I get an unbearably rude customer I may! If I do, I promise to update this and tell you all about it and my subsequent firing.

7. I have to go to the doctor again. We all know how I feel about that. Let us hope the good doctor and her family enjoy their Christmas turkey, because we know whose ailments will be paying for that!

8. Sister Flatmate, who is full of imperfections this week, broke the TV, and now it is…broken. Which means that all she does is hang around the house being passive-aggressive, which I am far too tired and stressed and unhealthy to deal with. I am going to start packing and sorting tonight, just to stay out of any communal living areas. It’s only common sense. Feel the breaking point was when I got ordered away from watching Coro St because I had a persistent cough.

Sorry this has been a big rant. I am a grouch. Andrea says my life is like a sitcom. She is right – if I was watching it, it would be hilarious (when it wasn’t being boring), but I have a headache and headaches are not particularly conducive to enjoyable afternoons.

In good news…um…it is almost lunchtime, and it is also almost Christmas, and I only have 15 days left here, and I only have 3 and a half weeks before I move. OK I am going to go and get some teriyaki squid. Because I Can.

Na Na Hey Hey

I am a logistical problem. Well. Moving me is a logistical problem. Moving all my stuff is a logistical problem. When I complain about moving, everyone says helpfully, "Oh, but you have hardly any furniture!" True, but do you know how much stuff I have? Piles and piles of things that I've accumulated over the years, most of which I don't need, and which will translate into piles and piles of cardboard boxes which need to be taken from city to city. Sometimes I wish I had a private jet. Actually that is most of the time.

Right now I am meant to be doing grown-up things like cleaning the house and paying the bills and unpacking from the weekend but actually what I am doing is reading a crappy novel and watching Friends and Thinking About Life.

Work Christmas party is this Friday (it is now Wednesday). It's one of three work Christmas parties (excessive I know, but they are free and I'm not complaining) and it's fancy dress. I have very mixed feelings about fancy dress parties for the following reasons -

1. they are more expensive than regular parties because the costume must be bought/hired/constructed (and yes it must, because there is no higher insult to everyone you know than to not wear fancy dress to a fancy dress party)

2. there's always a fine line between 'awesome costume' and 'trying too hard.' This line also branches off to visit 'great costume which makes you look like a troll.' Which is theoretically fine and dandy as I am not attempting to initiate a work romance (although according to past experience apparently sometimes you don't even need to do that much), but still not ideal. Which leads me to -

I just misheard an ad for some toothpaste or other, and it said, "Recommended by Dentists!" and for a solid second or so I totally thought it was "Recommended by Jesus!" which would surely be the ultimate in celebrity endorsement. Anyway, that wasn't what I was going to say, I was going for -

4. girls who wear an outfit in which theme takes a firm second place to sluttiness - these people annoy me. Mainly because I know I couldn't pull it off, but that is beside the point. Surely they annoy everyone, not just me? With the possible exception of the gentlemen.

5. there is always that one guy who wears something completely inappropriate and makes everyone except his irritating friends feel uncomfortable. I won't refer to him by his real name in order to protect his privacy; instead I shall call him Richard the Twat. (Not his real name.) At the last party RtT wore a skintight lycra suit and was a drunken tosser and tried to chat up many females (and possibly males) and was met with a mixture of amusement, disdain and nausea. Mainly nausea. He's going to be exactly the same at this party, except instead of the lycra bodysuit he'll be in a small strip of leopard-print material and a G-string (it is a Heroes and Villains party and he is going as Tarzan). Ew! Ew ew ew! Sorry about the rant, but I don't like him anyway and his mammoth ego does not help. Perhaps I shall get drunk and accidentally kick him in the balls.

So yes - fancy dress party. The good things are that I have a costume which I like (photos after party) and none of my 'pod' (or, in fact the surrounding pods (or, in fact, the rest of the company)) are going to do any work on Friday. As opposed to the whacking great amount of work that we do anyway.

I am going to have a nana nap now and wake up in time for Prison Break, and probably forget to put the rubbish out. And then tomorrow I resign! Scary. But good, 'looking into the future,' scary, not bad, 'Richard the Twat in a Tarzan outfit' scary. Ew. I hope my career prospects never resemble RtT. Figuratively or otherwise.

Four Exciting Things and Three Grumbles

Four Exciting Things

1. My impossibly coloured friend Andrea – wow. I’ve used that phrase several times before and never realised quite how racist it sounds until right now. I’m sorry! It’s based on her blog title, put your pitchfork away. Anyway, that’s not the exciting thing (although I suppose accidental racism is mildly exciting on a slow news day) – the exciting thing is that my impossibly (flesh)coloured friend Andrea has given me a blog award! (Which she will probably now take back.)
Still, I’m excited as have never been given a blog award before! Am going to put it up on my blog as soon as I figure out how to. Thank you, Andrelles! I am finally famous on the Internet.

2. I am visiting Christchurch this weekend – this means I get to see my family, and Andrea, and many other people beside. My plan for the weekend goes like this (I don’t care if you’re not excited, I am). Friday night – arrive at Chch airport, slightly giddy with excitement and pre-boarding call wine. Taxi home and bypass embrace of mother and sister for embrace of fridge (family always have goodies that I never buy for myself). Run around being excited. Go to bed. Saturday morning – Go Christmas shopping with my sister and a couple of my cousins. Begin in very high spirits, and then gradually become annoyed with mall, sister and cousins. Quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself, laden with bags full of presents, most of which will be for myself. Saturday afternoon – go to Andrea’s for clothes swap party! Feel inadequate at lack of beautiful things to swap, but make up for this by claiming as many nice things as possible. Hang out with Andrea, drink coffee. Saturday night – not sure yet, but it will probably involve drinking and being merry. But not too merry, because on Sunday morning I am going to have brunch with my mother and grandmother. My grandmother will ask a) what I am doing with my life, b) why I am not a published writer yet, c) how band is going and d) what I am doing for Christmas. Then she will be very disappointed in me (because answers are as follows – a) exactly the same as the last time we spoke; b) because I am too lazy, c) I quit band and d) I am not coming home for Christmas) and go on at length about my wasted potential. I will become annoyed, and quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself. Sunday afternoon – hopefully hang out with Andrea again, complain about grandmother and unfairness of not being able to shout at old people. (I do love my grandmother very much, but she is such a shameless guilt tripper.) Sunday night – go camping with my sister! I’m ridiculously excited about this, despite the fact that I hate nature and can’t work a BBQ. Monday – arse about enjoying day off not working when everyone else is. Go to pub quiz in the evening and do my pub quiz trick (convincing everyone else in my team that their unanimously-agreed-on answer of 'saxophone' is wrong and that actually everyone knows it was the trombone that Adolph Sax invented, then being proven incorrect and ostracised). Tuesday morning – fly home. Go to work. Sulk.

3. Am getting haircut on Thursday! Hair is currently shoulder length and about three shades off black, but come Thursday night it will be in a blonde pixie cut, quite possibly spiked into a little fauxhawk, and various shades of blonde. I used to have a pixie cut about a year ago, and I miss it. This Exciting Thing has a bonus layer of excitement as hair appointment is at 4.30, so I get to skive off work early. (Will say it is a doctor’s appointment.) Told my (younger, Christchurch) sister Kate about this, and she said, “No, you can’t! Long hair is sexy and vibrant! Short hair isn’t. Short hair says, ‘I am trying to be edgy.’” I said, “I do not want to be sexy and vibrant, I want a hairstyle that actually suits me.” Kate: “But men don’t like short hair on women.” …wait, what? Kate used to be an irritatingly devoted feminist (“I’ll never change myself for a man!” “I don’t understand women who sit around at home waiting for their men!” etc.). Then she turned 16, met Horrid Boyfriend, and turned into exactly the sort of little women she used to hate. Huh. Love is weird. (Also irrelevant to haircut.)

4. My job is sales-based, and on top of our salary we get a commission bonus every six months. Mine gets paid tomorrow and it is pretty freakin’ hefty. (Hence impromptu trip to Chch and visit to stupidly expensive hair salon.) I am going to party like a rock star. And then wonder three months later, when all the money is gone, why on earth I didn’t do something sensible with it.


and now, in the interests of symmetry -

Four Grumbles

1. I’m sickish at the moment and have a cough, and from time to time people say things like “Can you stop coughing? It’s really annoying.” “Yeah, I know – painful, too! Oh. Oh, you mean for you. Yeah, that must suck.” I do appreciate that it’s irritating but there’s really nothing I can do about it. (“Can you get some cough medicine or something?” “Sure, but cough medicine makes me vomit. Is that going to be more or less annoying for you, bearing in mind that I will be vomiting in your direction?”)

2. In my ‘pod’ at work (I am still deciding if I am a whale or a pea – given the amount of bagels I have consumed recently I’m leaning towards whale) we have a system where everyone puts in money for coffee, and we buy a thing of coffee, and then every morning a plunger is made, and we all drink the coffee. Doesn’t sound grumble-worthy, does it? Well, the guy who makes the coffee makes it far too strong. I like strong coffee, but we’re talking unbearably bitter here – he just keeps pouring coffee into the plunger. Not only does it render it far less enjoyable, it means we go through coffee about twice as fast as we should, which I resent because I put in money for coffee. Have tried mentioning it and occasionally making the coffee myself, but he just bitches and adds more coffee to the plunger after my initial efforts. Humph.

3. The fax room smells like something has died in it.

4. I am concerned that impending short haircut will highlight chubby face. This is not a new worry, but I did need a fourth grumble and couldn’t think of anything else. Perhaps this is why men don’t like short hair? Haha.

Boredom Reigns

Things I Am Bored With

· Novel – or I was until last night, when I scrapped my existing 11k and started over. I tried to do too much and be too clever and it did not work. I thought that by throwing random ingredients together I would be creating a delicious literary casserole, but actually I was creating a large and stinky literary compost heap.

· Job. This is not news, but I feel the need to mention it from time to time to remind everyone that I am destined for better things. I’m trying to decide whether or not I should find a new job before quitting this one. I am also bored with choosing between security and enjoyment.

· Flat – I have a very limited attention span when it comes to living conditions. I’m still enjoying flatting with Sister Flatmate, but the actual house itself I am sick of. Unfortunately, it is where I live.

· Blog – it has never been overly exciting, but it is particularly unexciting of late. Possibly reflecting generally unexciting life.

· Suspect I am just bored with life in general. Who can blame me? It can be a fairly boring thing.

Return of the ENORMOUS BANANA

Yes! I saw the ENORMOUS BANANAS again today, in a different fruit & vege shop! They must be catching on. Shortly after the EB sighting I overtook (in the walking sense) a woman who was carrying a plastic shopping bag with nothing in it except an EB. I almost said something to her (would've been along the lines of "Oh, you got one of those huge bananas! I was going to get one, too"), but luckily I realised that only mad people comment on the fruit purchases of a complete stranger. Still. Was nice to see my favourite fruit again. Next time I will take a photo.

Other exciting newses -

1) this wasn't originally going to be on the list, but Blogger spell-check recognises 'newses' as a word, which I was pretty sure it wasn't.

2) I made scones this evening! To be more accurate, I made a scone. Was intending to make a batch of perfectly formed sconelets (also apparently a word - come on, spell-check, you cannot be serious), but the batter was all sticky and gluey and just getting it onto the baking tray was hard enough, let alone cutting it into squares and then moving them 2cm apart. So I made one large scone, and cut it into many smaller scones. Turns out this doesn't make any difference to the delicious taste. Although having said that, I have never made scones before - so maybe it does. Hmm. Will use more flour next time and see. Will also use more baking powder as scones not as tall as I would've liked.

3) Have new plot for novel! Surprise, surprise. Will not unveil plot in dramatic, Extreme Makeover fashion as there will probably be a new plot tomorrow.

4) Yoghurt is good for your skin! (The Internet told me.) Am not sure if this is a widely held theory, though, because Sister Flatmate came home to find me watching Survivor with yoghurt all over my face and thought I was a nutcase. Skin now very soft though. Hair is also soft, because felt like hair was not doing skin justice and so put leave-in conditioner through it. I am all soft! Just for reference purposes, it's only plain yoghurt that's good for your skin, not flavoured yoghurt with little bits of strawberry in it. Although if that was the only yoghurt in the house it would be better than nothing? Probably.

5) There was a power cut tonight! Right in the middle of CSI: Miami. I was home by myself and the lights went out, and I thought 'oh shit I knew we should have paid that power bill before now,' but when I wandered outside the lights had gone out all up the street, and everyone was standing outside their houses cursing and offering each other candles and saying things like "I knew I shouldn't have tried to cook so many things in the oven at once" and gloating because somehow their telly was still working. Was exciting! Lit candles and read magazines by candle-light and thought, 'I could survive in a civil defence emergency!' (Not sure if this is actually the case, but I can definitely survive a two-hour power cut just fine.)


No more newses, I don't think, except that I was really productive at work today! Probably the biggest news of all. It was almost un-natural. This unholy efficiency may or may not continue tomorrow - I stayed late (I know - I said it was unnatural (does un-natural have a hyphen? both ways look wrong. both ways look unnatural)) to redo my entire filing system, halve my workload for tomorrow, and schedule my day properly. Whether or not I will stick to the schedule remains to be seen, but if I do it will make me an efficiency wizard.

And now, an impromptu summing-up of my day, in poetic form!

I got up this morning and I made myself some porridge -

Poor start. Nothing rhymes with porridge.

I got up this morning, made some porridge, went to work
Fortified myself with coffee, then plunged into the murk
of documents and emails in which, a corporate pig, I wallow
(after checking first my Facebook and the daily blogs I follow).
Made phone call after phone call with no visible result
Amended several fuck-ups all of which were not my fault
Put through some sales, redid my files and made a cup of tea
and then at 5 to 5 I took my customary wee.

Stayed working late to get things done and missed the evening news
Trundled home, self-satisfied that I'd worn comfy shoes
Saw the Huge Banana as I walked to my abode
and yet again I failed to find a fifty in the road.
I reached my house! I went inside! I made the Giant Scone!
The lights went off on our whole street! And then they went back on!
To celebrate the power cut I opened up a beer
And then I thought, 'I'll do my blog,' and this is it right here.

OK bedtime.

Plotno, sleepno, fundsno! Workyes.

Dear Readers: Due to extreme tiredness and inability to form grammatically correct sentences, today's blog post will be delivered in list format.

Things I Have

- a beer
- a cough
- this blog stuck on bold, somehow
- resulting formatting issues
- a spot on my chin
- a lot of work to do tomorrow
- one grandmother trying to guilt trip me into going home for Christmas ("But this could be the last Christmas we all get to spend together!" Is bloody grim)
- small blob of spit on my computer screen (gross; stupid cough)
- a friend who has bought $500 worth of cactus
- a remarkably good heater
- a remarkably large power bill
- a list of friends to have round for Christmas dinner
- to go to bed soon


Things I Do Not Have

- an alarm clock (although I woke up just fine this morning)
- any desire to go to work tomorrow
- any desire to smoke
- stupid plot for stupid novel for stupid november
- desire to go home for Christmas for one day
- a feasibility study (I just like that phrase. I still think you can get away with anything by claiming that you're conducting a feasibility study.)
- confidence in my computer not to freeze
- a life-threatening illness (felt list was getting a little negative.)


Things I Did Today

- wrote a letter to my friend in Canada
- some work
- had a bagel with sun-dried tomato cream cheese
- emailed my sister
- went to the supermarket
- became slightly depressed by my lack of meaningful achievements


Things to Do Tomorrow

- go to work (sigh)
- do some work, at work
- finish letter to friend in Canada, also at work (in breaks, naturally)
- call power company re: remarkable bill
- make porridge for breakfast


Things I Think About Porridge

- it is difficult to spell (to 'd' or not to 'd'?)
- it warms up the insides
- it is best served with brown sugar and yoghurt
- it is one of the friendliest foods
- it is a Good Start to the Day
- it is satisfyingly quick to prepare
- it tastes delightfully nutty and oaty
- I am already looking forward to having it for breakfast tomorrow
- there is nothing wrong with that!


And I wonder why my blog doesn't have more readers.