Back! with a job!

You have no idea how glad I am to have the internet back and to be able to surf it slowly without my [two!] bosses looking over my shoulder especially since they sit behind me. I would hunt for porn- if, you know, I was a porn fiend. Good thing I'm not a porn fiend.

Anyway, so I've started a new job and it's not particularly hard and it doesn't pay particularly well [well ok, it pays aeroplane-crash badly] but I guess, you know, I get to draw little pictures of tv's all day long.. and I shouldn't complain [too much] about doing something I really like doing.. even if I still hate photoshop and web 2.0 and creating buttons.

And the environment is really really different.. it's so.... asian. We share taro and preserved celery for lunch- and then after work I go put my face in a bag of junk food to wash it off. I haven't seen anyone even remotely white for three days and when I saw one today in the office [magazine salesman] it was like someone had lifted a curtain. I had to fight the urge to point at him and giggle "a hee-hee- hee! a white man! like in a picture book! a hee-hee-hee!"

But of course, I put my game face on and said very politely "How do you do?"

I know that Sumo and Dylmah would have run screaming for the doorway by now [they are the asians who don't like asians. Bizarre I know.] but I don't mind it that much. Of course I wished that they spoke more english and that we could communicate more on politics or gossip girl or anything really but then I have the casino environment where I have to hear people discuss anal and all kids of deviant behaviour all day long- so maybe talking about what I'm having for lunch is kind of a break in itself.

I'm justifying. Blah.

Anyway I don't mind it. Oh. I do mind that the question mark key is stuck on my work keyboard. Thats bugs me. It makes it look I'm stating things all day long.

I was reading the contract yesterday and there was a clause called 'Death'
[paraphrasing] when the employee dies, all employment between the company and the employee ceases.

I guess they had a lot of post-death/zombie issues to put in a clause like that, or maybe they just want to work us to DEATH! DEATH!

I signed the contract. I'll probably ask my boss about it one day when I'm feeling goofy- still on probation though so I may wait a few months.

[As you may have probably noticed- I am completely doofus and totally rambling. I think I'm just happy to be out of the straitjacket we call office attire. Jeans here we come!]

V. lucky

I'm v. lucky to have such good friends. Thank you. You know who you are.

Logic

Whenever I get upset I get a theory that I should stop blogging. I don't logically see how one equals the other but for some reason it does. I may have to sit down and ponder this one day.

Least. Last. Done

"Kiss me, please kiss me,
But kiss me out of desire, babe, and not consolation."
-Last Goodbye Jeff Buckley

Gen Y @ work

"Some employers are concerned that the members of Millennials have too great expectations from the workplace and desire to shape their jobs to fit their lives rather than adapt their lives to the workplace"- Gen Y on Wiki

ok so first congratulate me because I have a new job! woohoo!

The problem is.. and it has a number of teeny tiny problems... it pays less than my actual rent [which is low, low, low...] and secondly well it's not really my type of job. Hell, we'll say it loud. I am not built for car marketing I am more built for illustration and girly girly things.

So in my head before I've started this job- I've kind of already left it. Ahahaha. Seriously in my idea of longterm planning I'm thinking max a year and then I am vamoose to someone who can pay me better. Please buy my loyalty. It works.

Someone said that to me today- "stay for three months and then leave!" and I said "Really?? That's such a gen Y thing to do" and then I clamped my hand over my mouth and slapped myself all over the head several times.

Sb's friends used to tease me about being a gen Y all the time. But I am not ashamed! I am a face-booking, blogging, media culture-whoring, attention seeking, multi-lingual gen Y! You can buy my attention with shiny objects and whats wrong with that?? and anyway there's 71 million of us- we will eventually rule the world so stop being so pissy you cranky baby boomers [you're just mad that you can't work an iphone. Nehh.]

Random randomly bits.

I’m back after two weeks of computer breakdown. For awhile I was having computer withdrawals- I bought seven books. It helped some.

---

Two weeks ago, I was standing in the bar with Lucifer and I started teasing him about his new girlfriend.

He looked at me and said very seriously “well I wasn’t going to wait for you forever”

“Oh? Someone said that the exact same thing to me last night. Word for word. Is there a male handbook on how TO TALK TO ME?! A book of LINES perhaps?? Am I supposed to respond to all of it in the same FRICKING WAY??”

He started to tremble a little bit and I began to feel like I had kicked a lame bunny or something. [Crap. I can’t even outburst anymore]

Finally I relented. “Oh fuck off. I don’t even care that much. Go be happy”

“Well I am happy but I’m not.”

“Lemme guess, you like the girl but she likes you more and now you have an obligation to date her?” My eyes started doing a little roll towards the exit.

“Hey yeah! That’s amazing! How did you know?!”

“Handbook.”

---

So I was heading to my car and there’s a low wall next to the stairs when I saw this black kitten walk towards me, he propped himself up standing on this low wall so all I could see were a head and two paws and then he inclined his head at me. I was a little bit in love with him- he was that cute. And God knows I don’t generally love cats so I called him towards me [after he had finished inspecting me, of course] and I gave him a hug before I went to work.

I didn’t think he would remember me the next time when he crossed paths again [I presume that’s dogs memories are better?] but he came up to me, looked up and said “riowr!”. I do believe “riowr” is cat for hello. I honestly have never met such a good natured cat. I’ll miss him when I eventually move.

---

I was walking Minnie and these two little schoolkids crossing the road stopped and waved hello at her before they continued on their way. Talk about gestures that break your heart.

---

I was at this party and I didn’t want to sit inside and singstar [besides the fact there was this girl hogging the microphone and I didn’t want to eventually smack her on the side of the head with it] so I sat down outside with some boys. I figured that I’d get some deep revelations about how men really are. Turns out that I was expecting Plato over a beer and uhhh.. I got nipples, cocks and cars [I did meet a guy who does study philosophy the other day, I suppose he also discusses nipples with his friends instead of the meaning of life].

So I was kind of enjoying the conversation when this guy I vaguely know wandered out onto the balcony as well. As I was listening he turns to me and says “They’re just talking like this to turn you off.”

I could only turn and give him my most withering glare.

And then he says to me “Can you cook?”

And I reply “Of course, I can”

“Oh. I didn’t expect that you could” .. before I have time to register this insult, he continues “Women who can’t cook buy shoes. And women who can cook don’t buy shoes.”

I’m so blown away that I can only stare at him with my mouth open, when I finally manage to say something, it comes out strangled.

“And what about the women that manage to buy shoes AND cook? Thanks for your idiotic gender commentary. Now please fuck off.”

He shrugs “I’m only being honest”

Robbie next to me has never seen me so angry. And I’m slowly inching my fingers to take off my shoe to lob at this fuckhead. He pushes a bottle of moscato in my hand [not even with a straw or anything!] and says “drink this.” He then turns around and says to that pig, “Shut the fuck up. You’re not even making any sense.”

There’s a lull in the conversation and the topic goes back to nipples.

Boy 2# :Well, let’s change the topic shall we!.. so David.. how do you manage to move your nipples?

David, fuckwit extraordinaire: Well you can eventually manage to move them through pushups. If you do enough push ups then you can move them!

Me: Ok, that’s it. Your body looks like a sack of potatoes. Push ups. What push ups? You’re full of shit. How do you manage to be so full of shit?

Boy 2#: Aheeheeheeheehee

David: Whatever. Let’s go to McDonalds. Who’s up for McDonalds?

Yuk. Don’t ever let me see the guy again I will totally bean him with a frying pan [the one I apparently don't use!]. I told my girlfriends about it as I was driving home and the consensus was ass. Total ass.

---
Chrissy started moaning at me the other day "Mush! I need to get laid!"

I stared at her for a beat "Chrissy. You have a boyfriend. When did you last get some?"

"Last night."

.."I haven't gotten any since November! Are you serious?! You're complaining to the wrong person! You're complaining to a starving person that your pizza has too much cheese!"

"Ahahaheehee.. yeah you're right."

At this point Campbell walks in and Chrissy starts her spiel again. "I neeeeeed toooo geeeeettt laaaaaaid"

Campbell looks at her and says "Chrissy. My boyfriend is overseas. Suck it up."

"I will. I will."

---

I feel better lately. I feel like I'm breathing more regularly. Not falling to pieces. Progress.

Drifting towards

By request from Mexicana. Sleepy and vulnerable without my hair, my contacts , my make up.

Things that are distracting

So here is a list of things that are taking my mind off things

- My pandora bracelet.
For the first few days wearing it- it constantly plucked out any wrist hair I might have had. It was like it's way of saying "Here I am! Pay attention to me! Me! Me!" and now that I have no more hair on my arm I don't think about it as much. But I still think [quite constantly] about how to prettify the thing. I'm hoping that someone will be kind and offer me a gold charm for it [without having to sell my body for the thing, of course]. I only have two charms on it- a money bag which is my way of telling myself to invest more wisely in people and a fish which is only there because it's so fricking cute.

- My ongoing commitment to being ripped off by any mechanic in a thirty mile radius.
So I've just paid eight hundred dollars for a service two months ago and I was thinking it might be due for a basic service soon. There was no way I was taking it back to Terry Ryan's in Ryde. Sorry guys but charging six hundred for labour makes you complete asshats. Anyway. I took it to Midas in Chatswood and I called beforehand and asked for a quote [like the smart cookie I am right?]

Me: I'm bringing my car in for a service. How much?
Mechanic: [bored voice] five hundred and seventy dollars.
Me: EXCUSE ME? I'm asking for a basic service not a new car.
Mechanic: Oh. a hundred and twenty.
Me: A hundred and twenty? you're sure a hundred and twenty? Can I have your name and id number and birthdate please?

So I brought it in and I asked suspiciously "one twenty right? thats not one hundred and twenty thousand? no extra zeroes?". They said no ma'am! And I happily went off to buy a book and six new shirts.
At two o clock- I got the call. I should have known.
Mechanic: Mush? We've looked in your car and you need a new radiator. And new brakes.
Me: what. I just got my car serviced. What are you talking about?
Mechanic asshat: your radiator is cracked, you need a new one. Oh, and new brakes.
Me: Uh huh. And how come my radiator is cracked?
Mechanic: I dunno. Let's see. The radiator by itself will cost five hundred dollars... you need to replace the brakes.. which needs to replaced in pairs which is three hundred each so that comes to ... well over one thousand dollars.

At this point of the conversation I could see these mechanics stomping on my radiator and cutting my brake lines to make themselves a little profit.
From a distant land I heard myself say: change the radiator. Leave the brakes.
And then he chuckled: Yeah, it might be better to spread the load around not so heavy on the wallet.
There. my ongoing commitment to keeping these assholes as happy as pigs in shit. I have had not much experience with lawyers but if it's anything like being ripped off by a mechanic- I would happily drive a boatload of them into the sea. Seriously, is there an honest mechanic out there??

-My hair.
When I have pics I will post them up. If it acts like Sadako, and it looks like Sadako.. then it is.. Mush?

-Carnivale Season 2.
Three years late to the party but at least I'm finally there! Decapitations! Incest! Visual proof that ferris wheels are dangerous!

Things that are not so much taking my mind off things:

-Wedding expo.
UM.. I am very happy that you are getting married. But I don't want to go?! I don't want to see you picking out the icing on your cake, trying on pretty dresses and generally swanning over adorable girly things which I will not see [personally] for a good 'nother four years?! Seriously I don't want to see happy couple future things at the moment I would rather stay at home and twiddle my thumbs. rhythmically. Ask me again in six months ok? I'd be happy to go with you in six months. Not now.

-Furniture shopping.
This too. Stop it. You're killing me.

-My phone.
I've designated an entire room to keeping my phone away from me. This way I won't have to think about possible job callbacks, eviction notices, irate supervisors and wayward boy phone calls. If it's in the same room as me there's a good chance I'll stare at it so hard that the battery starts to melt. This way I can concentrate on eating a sandwich or breathing in a normal humanly fashion. Only now that I've run of credit I have to keep it with me at all times, it's interfering with my ability to do normal things- jhdjghjfghel.

Only fabulous in certain times of the day

Night time is the hardest. At night I lie awake and I am pegged with insecurity, anger, longing. At night I visualise situations back and forward in my head, I rewind-erase, rewind-erase until I fall into a twitchy [hypnic jerk] sleep, and in my dreams I'm always arguing, continuously explaining. Even in my sleep no-one listens. At night staring at my ceiling, I wonder if I've made ripples in anybodys lives and if any of these lives would be duly effected if I was to go away, I always come to the same conclusion that life would still go on and the earth would still revolve- if I was ever brave enough to do it I would do it. I worry that my friends worry about me.

In the daytime all this goes away. In the morning I warm up and I do my thing. I tell myself that everyday is a new day. I laugh and I make phone calls. I go to work and I ask "How do I look?" and people can only shake their heads at my ego-centricities and say "ugly- real ugly today" .. Lucifer looks at me and says "You are gorgeous. You look sensational". It's a shallow ego boost but it helps, it helps me to sway my hips just that little bit more- to lift my head just that little bit higher.

By evening, I am in full swing. I am fabulous and everyone knows it. I truly truly feel fine that I will make it not just to tomorrow but to the ripe old age of eighty five. It's life! It's here for the taking!

And then night comes and as I get ready for bed- all these niggles, these worries, these rewinds and regrets come flooding back and I stare at the ceiling before I fall asleep*

*I was feeling so good this afternoon, I felt absolutely amazing. But now it's 12:58 at night and for some reason I'm not holding it together. I would blame it on the rain but I don't think that's it. Seasonal affective disorder. Maybe.