The Pros and cons of another puppy.

While other people around the world are attending parties and passing out on coke and magic mushrooms. I'm sitting here trying to decide if I'm fiscally and emotionally responsible enough to buy another puppy. [Seriously, I'm so boring- I want to be passed out on something or at least snockered on apple schnapps somewhere, but alas my cupboard only carries peach so no wholesale imbibing for me.]

In any case, I'm thinking of getting an new puppy. I've been thinking of it for a while. I went to DoggyRescue, and SB spent so much time dragging his feet that by the time he changed his mind, the doggie I wanted was gone [hopefully to a good home, he deserves it.]

So Mexicana dragged me to another pet store, where I met her..




She is without a doubt freaking adorable.

But of course me being me, cannot buy a puppy without completely overanalysing, reanalysing. second guessing and then coming back to overanalyse some more. [Don't worry, I'm completely neurotic- I can do the same with a pair of shoes. Hours upon hours of hemming and hawing]


Pros:

It'd be nice to have the company, our family could do with some expansion.

I think Minnie could do with a little sister, I'd like Minnie to be less lonely.

Cons:

She is really really really expensive. Shes not kind of expensive. Shes the I-only-have-two-pennies-left expensive.

I'm not happy about giving that much money to a pet store. I'm well aware of the crappy reputation that pet stores have and I'm not really sure I want to contribute to it.

I don't know if I'm emotionally ready for another puppy. I'm even less sure that SB is [feet-dragger].

Peanut Butter= Orgasm

When I was fifteen I started developing allergies. Not haha allergies, but allergies that blew my hands up to Mickey Mouse proportions. For weeks I was waving my man hands in peoples faces. When I went to the doctor he said I was allergic to [deep breath]

prawns.
lobsters.
yeast.
certain types of grass

and.. peanuts!

peanuts!

I had to give up my beloved peanut butter to save my hands.

At any point, during these last nine years my allergies have subsided enough so that I can eat most of these foods [you have no idea how cranky I've been at family dinners when lobster and crab were passed around and all I had was strawberry ice cream and fried rice]

but I haven't had peanut butter til today.

And Oh Lord, it was a reunion in my mouth, I sat there with a jar of it frantically shovelling it down my maw. I think at one point I let out an audible sob.



So peanut butter, my bestest buddy, my soulmate- we are once again reunited. Fate shall not divide us again! [Its crunchy all the way, none of that wussy smooth stuff]

My personal campaign of terror

A few months ago on a busy Saturday evening, a patron asked me for a hot chocolate. Being the wonderful and delightful server that I am, I agreed.

Anyway he drank a mouthful of chocolate and a mouthful of blood, because the glass had a chip in its side and he had split his lip. In any case, he wasn't too happy about redrinking his own fluids. [Well, you coulda sorta tell by his face- he obviously couldn't really talk.]

Cut to yesterday, I was picking up empty and sort of empty glasses, but this one glass was slathered in vaseline [ok, no it wasn't] and it slipped straight out of my fingers and bounced onto the floor and all the liquid cascaded up and splashed the same customer all over the face and all over his jacket.

The same fricking customer.

The same ?%$&#$@%$%^$ing customer.

To put it mildly, he was infuriated. And as compensation, he demanded twenty five lattes. I made twenty five frigging lattes. Although now that I look back, I'm glad he didn't demand my head on a pike and my firstborn child because thats what I think he was really aiming for.

Anyway third times the charm- I hope to go the next six months without somehow decapitating him. Although don't be surprised if you read in the paper- "Freak spray of cards kills poker player, waitress denies involvement."

[Don't worry, I didn't just get it from him, I'm now known around the casino and down its hallways as the girl that serves coffee on you, not to you. My reputation precedes me, I think I will go lie down now]

I'm not adulterous. Just violent.

If you listen to the gossip of the casino, well then you must be very bored. Anyway I was so insanely bored that I left early.

But not before one of my bartenders pulled me aside to tell me the gaming supe wanted to ask me out.

Huh.

Of course theres the niggling fact that I have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend [thats not a freaking niggle by the way, thats the empire state building squashing you sideways]

oh and that I don't date people from work. I just don't. The Casino pays my bills but that may be the nicest thing I ever say about it. Some people are nice and some people have been working there so long that its addled their brains to the point where we need to herd them onto a type of farm.

Anyway if he asks [says the unsubstantiated gossip] I will catapult across the room and ninja kick him in the nuts. Or maybe I'll just politely refuse [which sounds a little more like me]

Things that:

Since nothing really interesting is happening in my life.. its time for some lists!

Ta-dah!

Things that gross me out: [ummm.. no pictures]

1. Peeling prawns. Especially twisting the head off because when you do black goo spills out followed by unidentifiable yellow mush. Also prawns are distant cousins to cockroaches. Therefore what I'm really peeling is a sea cockroach.

2. Anatomy for Beginners. Apparently you can peel a man's balls like an orange. You just slice and then take the outer layer right off, leaving you with um... balls...maggot coloured balls. Its as gross as it sounds. Oh and just for fun the professor [of Horror!] takes a pin and sticks it in the tip of the [non skin covered] penis. I almost ralphed.

3. Speaking of ralphing. Guess who threw up spaghetti-os in the bathroom? Its a lovely orange and red colour. And the aftertaste in your mouth tastes like lemons. Cheesy lemons.

And now .. who feels like dinner with me?!

SB's birthday

So it was SB's birthday, and I will dispense with the mushy stuff so you all don't gag all over your keyboards [but i wuv himmm, wuv himmm 4eva! SB4MushMush!]

Ha I lied, commence regurgitation.

Anyhoo I thought I would just post a billion pictures. And do some random commentary, you know you love random commentary.





So yes, as I mentioned before I gave SB a bubble machine for his birthday, he enjoyed it. But Minnie not so much enjoying being sprayed by bubbles.

So at night time we went for dinner in Thai Pathong. Seriously the restaurant is gorgeous, full of gay waiters, pretty cocktails and art for sale.


Frank and Sue


Um.. The birthday boy is giving me gangster fingers




I did mention the cocktails?


Joanne and Caroline






Alan and Christine


Cake!


Me: Thats not a knife......


SB: Are you seriously quoting Dundee to me? now?


It's a birthday surprise


Yes, that bag spent on a whole night on my lap. There was nowhere to put it. I am not showing off.

The guy in black is our waiter. remember the customer is always right and if they ask you to pose then pose!


And just for fun at a completely different restaurant, well this is kind of self explanatory. I think there is food on his tongue.

Shh..

Its Sb's birthday present.

Not yet wrapped for tomorrow. I hope its a sunny day for us to take it outside.

Its one of those days

When you're 5c away from your train fare, when you drop your ipod twice, and the library takes an hour and a half to get you three books. The only thing to do is sleep. Look how happy SB looks. I'm pretty sure I don't look that happy when I sleep*

*See previous post. Anvils! Anvils! Anvils everywhere!

Meet me at the altar in your white dress

Last month I dreamt:

That Mexicana, Saffron and I were standing at the bottom of a very very tall staircase. It was like a giant fire escape with nothing else connected to it. Anyway Mexicana and Saffron had this great idea [sigh. not so great] to climb to the top of this staircase thing, and I was like "are you kidding me? I'm afraid of heights!" and they're all "Nooo! It'll be cool!" so anyway up we go, for some reason they are wearing spangly stilettos and I am wearing flats [although now that I think about it, yeah ok I'm the flats girl] and so we're racing all twenty nine levels of it. When we reach the top, we're so high up that we're kind of surrounded by clouds. Anyway Saffron happy to be there, leans backwards on the railing and shes on those stilettos so she topples right over it and plunges down.. down... down. Mexicana and I rush to the railing to look for her, but when I look down I know theres no hope, because theres no way anyone can survive a fall from twenty nine storeys.

Then I wake up.

Yesterday Saffron told me she was getting married. And this is the part where you tell me I should stop over analysing my dreams.

My robot..

My robot doesn't do anything a robot is supposed to do such as clean the house and cook me breakfast. Instead he walks around in circles all day pausing occasionally to glare at me menacingly, I need a new robot.

Random notes on my life

Yesterday my cousin and his wife had a baby boy. They are only going to speak to him in english, the kid is going to grow up having people swear at him in chinese and only being able to answer them back in hand signals.

I served a pair of sixty year old twins cups of coffee. They were wearing the same clothes and same make-up. However their make-up was identically horrendous. You should never wear blue and green [and purple] eyeshadow at sixty.

We thought my new phone was broken but really we had just plugged it in the wrong way, we are very smart.

I'm sitting here deciding whether I should take an extra bartending shift at a nightclub on Saturday. I'm really hitting the overnighters lately.

The checkout boy thought I was weird when I bought an orange and a jar of honey. I had to explain to him that I was sick not crazy. The orange was moldy anyway.

My Stepdad has offered to pay for my wedding, my Dad has not. SB thinks my Dad will be shitty if he found out.
Me: Do you really think my dad is going to pay for my wedding?? especially with Irene involved?? if I'm lucky I might get a cupcake in a park with a newspaper on my head as a veil. They might pay for the newspaper because they've read it already.
SB: Well he'll be pissed off that he [the Stepdad] paid for it. Hou mou mien (Lost face)
Me: Right... so he's not going to pay for it, and he doesn't want other people to pay for it.. whos going to pay for it?? The government??
SB: Free weddings for all!

Our bar ran out of napkins, so I spent a good two hours cutting up the remaining napkins in half to make them last. Not one customer noticed which makes me think that I'm a great napkin cutter, the best in the bartending business.