I'm not giving free drinks to footballers.

I didn't think it was possible but I think my mobile has a virus. Everytime I plug the usb in, my computer just dies. So apologies again for the lack of pictures, I know you really miss me mugging for the camera. I guess I'll just try again tomorrow. Or alternately I'll just use my camera to take a picture of my phone then post it through [its convoluted and the pictures will look terrible... and do you really want to see the photoes that badly?!]

So about the weekend [other than I just worked through the entire thing and I am exhausted]
..let's see..

Work this weekend has been extremely seedy and eye-opening. I sat down with a gaming supervisor and we were just chewing the fat [so to speak] and we got to speaking about his career, he said that basically he wasn't going to get a further promotion because he had a go at the poker players at the things that they did.

Like what?

Well passing each other money under the table.

And? [and this is unsubstantiated but it grossed me out all the same]

He looks at me and says: You know the omaha table [omaha table is table with the players who bet the highest] well whoever wins the most money takes all the rest of the players up to the hotel rooms for sexual favours.

I think I was looking a little bit green because he started laughing at me. Although you would look a little bit green too, because I touch these people's hands when I pass them money, who knows what kinds of germs you pick up from sharing the same woman???! Sloppy thirds? fourths? fifths? Bleugh. And now whenever I walk past that table I think 'ew'.. and then five of them disappeared at once last night and ' double ew'. Of course, they could've just gone for dinner.. but the suspicious seed has been planted already [wrong choice of words. shut up]

And then we have little cases of corruption which don't bother anybody else but bothers me [mostly because it involves me having to look like a simpering fan]. One of the bartenders came up to me and said "Mush, can you ask that guy if he wants a drink? The pit boss wants him to have a free drink."

Me: Mmm, why is he getting free drink?
Bartender: Because he's a footballer.
Me [irritated]: He's getting a free drink because he's a footballer. Is he dehydrated?
Bartender: *gives me death stare

Good grief, I don't want to pump up this guys massive [but strangely cute] head more than it already is. So I go up and glare at him, politely of course. "Excuse me, the supervisor wants you to have a drink? Would you like a drink?" And him, wondering how come the waitress is so hostile [she is not a giggly fan. she doesn't want to give you a free drink based on the fact you can hold a ball and run through a scrum] ever so politely declines.

Siiiiigh. Other things happened that weekend too but I guess I'll just post it tomorrow- hopefully my phone is working then.

In which Mush talks about nothing much

I alternately have the songs' Jack and Diane' and 'Diamonds on the inside' by Ben Harper running through my head, its a good thing they sound somewhat similar, otherwise you'd be facing one unhappy blogger [on a related note, 'If I just lay here' by Snow patrol and 'Every breath you take' makes for an interesting mash up as well. I don't like Snow patrol however, I think they're beyond repetitive. which is odd because I think that ordinarily they'd be a band I like. Y'know mournful. wail-ey. Coldplay type lyrics but bah. Bah for Snow patrol.]

So I think I have fulfilled my talk-y music quota for the month.

Anyway updates from my life.

- Our bathroom lightbulb has finally been fixed. Hurrah! it only took about fourteen calls, two angry emails and a threat to take our horrible-ass landlord to court. That last threat finally got his motor running. We had been showering in the dark for a month. There's a special spot in hell reserved for assholes like him.

- Malawi replied to my note on facebook. She said thanks for the note and it was ok. We're never going to be the best of friends but at least I got that off my chest. [Sb looked at me and said "I think you watch too much Earl", of course this is coming from someone who remembers the faces of people who wronged him so he can pee on their door handles]

- The thesis. Halfway through my first rough draft. My tutor asked me to speak to a prominent feminist to get her opinion. It was like trying to catch a frog with a piece of popcorn. First her emails bounced and then when I called her she said to email and I said the emails bounce! she said try again. So I emailed AGAIN and then she emailed back with why don't you call me? I had to pop my eyes back in from rolling them so much. She emailed ever so sweetly that she would love to help me if I was doing my masters. I am not doing my masters.

Hokai. Finally she said "Call me on wednesday" and so I called her this morning. I have done quite a bit of interviewing in my short undergraduate career, but this was seriously the worst interview I've ever done. She shot down all my questions with "I don't think.." you know if other journalists can answer my questions .. the very same questions.. why can't you?? I didn't know if she was expecting more pseudo-intellectual questions [such as Lacanian theory suggests that we are all lacking, what exactly about Britney are we lacking and what does this say about Derridean theory?. Please shoot me if I ever start asking questions like that in the middle of an interview] Finally I cut it short because her answers pretty much killed any remaining questions I had left. She is the director of communications at UNSW, if you're the director of communications. Communicate?!. For Gods sake, answer the goddamn question, don't say you don't think anything of Britney because even freaking president Bush has an opinion on Britney.

Siiigh. In hindsight, I wouldn't have spent so much time chasing after her. Dems the breaks I guess.

F-cup tea

I walked past this yesterday and as I skimmed past it I thought vaguely, why do only people with f-cups get tea? and then I realised that it was tea for people who want f-cups.

So I thought I would take a picture of it so you can have a giggle. [Or I can have a giggle, since my thesis on Britney is depressing me. So she bombed at the VMA's.. Can she now please move to Montana so I don't have to read articles where people are nasty to her? I'm looking at you Perez Hilton]

Here it is! My tattoo! Three years in the making!

Shes looking a little demonic here. I hope she lightens up.

So Lighto and I made it to the front of the tattoo parlour and he had a hard enough keeping me from running off and chugging down four shots of absinthe. We went in and there was already a couple of girls and a gaggle of mainland teenagers. The drilling was making me antsy and the poor chinese girl getting a rose and a butterfly [gag] on her ankle was making me feel worse. Her face was red and she looked like at any second she was going to burst into tears. She was gripping the table like the table was about to save her life.

Breathe. breathe. Its her ankle. Its the bone. Yours will not hurt as much.

By the way, all you people who say it doesn't hurt are liars! liars!

The tattooist who was very nice to me tried to make me feel better by making some really really terrible jokes. If I could remember what they were, I would tell you.

So I turned up the ipod up to eleven and the drilling began. I could still hear the drilling through my ipod [frick] and the pain was ridiculous. It was as if someone was taking a cigarette to my skin. And I was making the most awful faces from the pain, squinching and biting.. I think I heard some other customers having a giggle at my faux-orgasm face [the fact that I can hear giggles and drilling through my ipod means that either a] my ipod sucks or b] they must have supersonic giggles. Its an either or]

I was gripping Lighto's arm so hard I was putting dents in it. So I kept switching spots on his arm. the end result being he didn't have one big bruise, but several smaller bruises. He looked like someone dotted him with purple texta.

The wait took about an hour. But the tattooing only take ten minutes. Ten minutes! It was two and a half songs!

Anyway it was three year process to get my courage up. Its my first and last tattoo.

In bed with Mush

Why are you in bed?

I'm doing my thesis in bed. The internet distracts me.

What are you wearing?

I'm wearing pink pyjamas with love hearts on them. My mum bought them. They are not sexy.

Do you really look like that when you get up?

Yes, but generally I'm in colour.

Why are you so lazy?

Genetics?

You haven't posted real pictures for months! and now you give us these cheap photos with your hair unbrushed and in your pyjamas?!

I can't really explain that. I'm hoping you think its cute. It probably isn't.

What is that stuff behind you?

QV cream, my reading glasses and this ugly ass flamingo cup that my aunty bought me for christmas.

What turns you on?

Get away, you perverted fucker.

Are you going to post something real soon? Or are you going to just continue to put up photoes of you in bed?

I will post up something real soon, right after I finish my nap.

How nine year olds can ruin lives

You know with the amount of time that I spend bugging around on facebook [instead of doing my thesis!] I was bound to hit upon people from my past from high schools and former workmates. And there were heaps.

Anyway, to cut to the chase for some reason or another I typed in the name of one of my former primary school classmates, for privacy's sake we'll call her Malawi.

Around the age of nine, I was a bit of a little shit.. I was a nine year old on a power trip [well if nine years olds can have power trips then I was on one], there was only three other girls in my grade. One I designated my best friend and the other two I regularly tormented, well I wasn't a tween Goering or anything but you know I would leave them out of things and be mean to them behind their backs.

At one point, it all went terribly wrong, we were out walking towards some sort of sporting event and I asked my best friend "So tell me stuff about Malawi. " I was fishing for gossip [even at that age], and the other girl said "yeah, what does she do?".

She looked at me and said "She has sex with her dog. They walk around naked so the dog can lick them" And being nine.. we were thunder struck. It never occurred to us that she could be lying.

At any point, all of this stuff somehow came out [I still don't know how to this day] and she was taken to the principals office and parents were called in. When Malawi's mum came out she went straight up to me, looked me in the eye and said "You didn't believe any of the things she said did you? She's a very naughty girl". I shook my head mutely. I can still remember the look in her eyes, analysing me. Why would we and how could we be so hurtful?

Afterwards we cornered her, and we were outraged. How could you lie to us?! Why would you lie to us?? And weeping she said "You kept asking and asking, and I didn't have anything to tell you, so I made it up".

At the end of the year, the other girl and I moved away, leaving my best friend and Malawi the only two girls in that playground. I heard that occasionally they still played with each other after I left.

Anyway, I saw Malawi on facebook. From her photo and everything, she turned out alright. She's quite pretty. I thought it would probably do to get it off my chest to apologise for being such a shit. So I've sent her a letter, here's hoping she reads it.

Whenever I was bullied in high school I would think of it and think of her and I tried to not mind so much because I knew a lot of it was karmic. Watch your kids people, kids are cruel.

Its a tattoo sign!

As you all know I've been seriously thinking about getting a tattoo for what? two years now? And the other day I saw this girl with this awesome tattoo on her hand right in the spot nestled between her thumb and her index finger. And it gave me pangs.. as in where the hell is my tattoo?? How come I still don't have a little waving Hello Kitty on my back??

Anyway I was seriously considering this as I walked off the train when right past me a girl walks with a Hello Kitty bag. And you know what? I will take that as a sign. I am going to do it!

More listing stuff instead of actual blogging

More random stuff, because my posting has been so sporadic. [Does anyone else remember that quote from Clueless? "I'll see you later!" "I hope not sporadically.." hahaha sorry thats probably funnier in context. Watch the movie]

* I love my parents. My parents drive me crazy. They're the only people I know who will whisper "bomb" in a restaurant because they think we're being bugged by the government. A Chinese restaurant. In North Sydney.

*Last week I saw the first moon eclipse of my life. [I also missed Halleys Comet, but I was three..?]
And it was...well not even mildly romantic. I don't know what I was expecting, but it was blood red and why does my first eclipse have to be blood red?? Why couldn't it have been like a light blue or something instead of looking like an incoming apocalypse?

* My friend Saffron and her husband-to-be are coming with us to Japan! Hooray! We're going to drink sake and watch hentai [ha. Just kidding about the hentai. She once showed me a cartoon where the woman was being tortured by being electrocuted by her genitals, after which she lost control of her bladder. And that? turned me off sex forever and ever. It also made me fearful of people that hold clamps]

* I am putting off doing my thesis.

* I am also putting off work experience.

* Apparently I'm going to be a bum and work at the casino for the rest of my life

* I'm put off by men with big heads. Theres a guy I'm going to school with, who has a massive head literally and metaphorically. Well I guess a big head would be good for... head butting? I don't know.

And back to avoiding doing my thesis. Sigh.

10 things about the weekend

1. I inadvertently watched two Liev Schrieber movies this weekend. You know how with some actors you feel like you could be friends in real life? I don't feel that with Liev. He'd look at me disapprovingly and I'd yell "you! are not! my dad!" before slinking away somewhere.

2. I still hate work. Ta-dah!

3. I dyed my hair blonde, well streaky blonde, some people called it brown, others called it hazel. I'm the only one who thinks its blonde, so apparently I'm also colour blind.

4. Theres a woman moving in next door with her maltese, which should make for some interesting fights. [Between Minnie and the maltese, not me and the woman. I'm a lover not a fighter..]

5. Getting drunk will generally end up with me singing loudly and badly at two in the morning.

6. James Blunt does not belong in the middle of a happy hardcore collection [and never ever ever will]

7. No-one likes taking vodka shots

8. When someone at work offers to take you up the butt, the correct answer is "Sure, how about now?" and not "whuh?". Because "whuh?" will ensure you are teased mercilessly til the end of the day. Also "whuh?" is a terrible comeback.

9. Getting up at one in the morning to mark your boyfriend's essay is the mark of a true saint. [Me. saint.]

10. And the best fact for last, apparently Hitler had a thing for golden showers. Its true because I watched it on tv. WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH.. [I just went off on another set of giggles]

The weekend in the fourth dimension from hell.

[back to being whiny.. are you glad??!]


So on Sunday morning, its pissing down rain and Sb comes out of the bathroom and says "The lightbulb is leaking water" he says it all calmly and then he goes into hysterical the-titanic-is-sinking mode "ITS LEAKING WATER. I HATE THIS PLACE! RAWRRR *drools"

The bathroom is flooded with water coming out of every single electrical plug you can think of, so I calmly and surely called an electrician and cancelled all my plans for that day [which included eating much birthday cake and sitting around not thinking about leaky houses]

However, I still had to go to work and when I went in.. it was chaos. For the ten hours straight that I was there, it packed to the gills. It was a rainy Sunday night.. all you assholes go home! Go watch Sixty minutes, spend time with your kids.. anything?! I did two hours of overtime and the place was still wallopingly busy at two in the morning. I began to make death wishes to everyone that ordered a drink.

So fiiiiinally after the shift from hell, I decided to catch a cab home, we mostly drove in silence except for the one time I ventured into conversation "Don't you think its dangerous to drive in this weather?". Famous fricking last words.

I asked him to turn left and he turned right, when I said don't worry, just stop I'll walk. He shook his head and said "No worries" then proceeded to reverse ACROSS THE INTERSECTION. Well who knew what happened next, because my head made friends with the side window and all I could hear was the grinding of metal and myself shrieking. [It was an involuntary shriek of course, I'm not really a shrieker]

So we all got out and stood in the pouring rain to try and figure this out and the taxi driver and the girl are arguing and they both want my phone number and the pen is not really the kind that you use underwater. So the taxi driver pushes me back into the taxi, and I'm fumbling for the light switch because I can't see and his dodgy ass light doesn't have a dodgy ass protective cover and so I burn my hand. Instant welts. At this point, my rage is apocalyptic.

I politely excuse myself and tell them I'm going to lay down IN MY HOUSE. Thats where I live, if you want to find me I'll be in there. In the foetal position. So I slush home and find that there are no keys in my bag and so I pound on the window king-kong style until Sb wakes up. Wherein he finds me in shock and tears and sends me to have a shower.

And of course the bathroom has no lights, so I shower in the dark. Thus ending the worst weekend ever. Maybe not the worst, but up there with the all time greats.

Not Alone

I was walking home from college tonight and it was quite dark. But I was okay because I was listening to my ipod and ignoring everything, and then the song ‘Talk’ came on by Coldplay [which is not a freaky thing into itself obviously]. I started whistling the first few bars and then I stopped. I remembered that Sb told me that you shouldn’t whistle at night because it attracts ghosts and then I freaked myself the hell out. I started seeing shadows and movements everywhere and I’m thinking “God.. let me get past this dark area…” and lo and behold, two cars drive past me*.. so I’m tided over for a bit. And then I get to this part where its extremely dark- under trees and no lights at all, not even a soft glow from housing windows “Dear God, let me walk past this bit ok” .. and then a car I didn’t even know had a person in it turns its headlights on and shines on me til I get to the intersection.

See? Sometimes I think I’m alone and sometimes I know someone is watching over me.

*Not too many cars down a dark suburban street at night, but two! two!

Its another bendery weekend*

*courtesy of Jagarmeister: friends to trashbags everywhere!

Every so often I go out and get completely sodden off my face [ as I'm sure you are quite aware] and this was the weekend, I think I just needed to go and get away from the politics of "The Office", and my Michael Scott-esque supervisor.

So on Saturday, I went to Chicken's place. Y'know its sort of odd, I never get trashed around Sb's friends, I think its because I want them to see me as polite and friendly and not blind and puking. Anyway. But I was a bit stressed so when someone held up a bottle of vodka [triple distilled..mm] and said "who wants some?", I ignored all forms of propriety and yelled "memememememe". Thats what happens if you stress me out, I like to take it out on a bottle. And so then for the rest of the night me and jagarbombs were best friends. Or me and everyone were best friends, I dunno.. its kind of blurry all the things I said, I do recall Chicken lost his pants twice during the night and I didn't lose my pants so really it wasn't so bad.


we look so happy!

Onto Sunday, I was fighting with Sb [everybody sigh "again..?"] and so I had my friend Raver take me out. We were supposed to go to Ark, cos whats better than a glass of wine and some disco tunes right? But then we saw the line..
It was covered with people, I wasn't even aware that so many other people were looking for a boogie down on a Sunday at one o clock in the freaking night! So we went across the street to Kinselas, which I have to say is quite the funky little joint with its velvet couches and ridiculously high ceililngs. We sat there and as good friends often do, talk about absolutely nothing. I stumbled home at five o clock in the morning, and slept for four hours. Which is what happens you drink about twenty cans of red bull over the space of two days.

[Sometime during that weekend I worked, but I'm not sure exactly what I did]

The best thesis. ever!

Wait for it.. wait for it...

I'm going to do my thesis on Britney Spears!

Woo, I'm going to combine my voyeurism, my shallowness and my love of all things train-wrecky into a 6000 word essay.

Well I thought it might be more interesting than doing a media read out on global warming [not that global warming is not important.. change your lightbulbs people!]

5:54

Apparently Britney Spears is an anagram for presbyterians.. I'm going to full of these fun little facts for the next four months.

Things that are sweet 3#

I have good hair today. No, I have fantastic hair today. When you have fantastic hair, life is good. Anyway I'm waiting for Mexicana to hurry up so we can go out before my stupid hair goes flat and people will be like.. "Isn't that how it looks everyday??" and I'll be "Noooooooo! Look at the volume! The way it sits!" and they'll be "suuure.... crazy woman".




*Ignore the miserable expression on my face. I was stunned by the flash going off. Focus on the hair.

Things that are sweet 2#

Siiigh, I find myself looking around for things to be mushy about, this week is.. long.. I'll be glad to go back to cynical posting

So I was sitting on the lightrail and there was this baby in a pram and he was wearing a beanie and he looked just like a tomato, fat cheeks and all and I could feel my ovaries go ping! pinG! PING! PING! PING!

I must've looked like I was about to kidnap him because his Dad started moving him furtively away by pushing the pram away with his foot.

Is this a positive post? I really am trying my hardest. I will do a post on butterflies and whatnot tomorrow, something to look forward to. Hooray.

Something sweet.

I saw two kids on the bus today, one girl and one boy I think they were both about eight years old and it was obvious that they had crushes on each other. They were sitting across the row from each other and they were trying to figure out whether he should move to her seat or she should move to his and they kept half standing to figure it out when finally the boy took charge and squooshed along to her side. I've never seen a little girl look so happy.

my black heart melted and made piano plinking sounds.

Its a temporary personality upgrade

Yesterday I had a conversation on msn that went like this [paraphrased of course]

Cup: Do you like any of the jobs that you do??
Mush: No, I'm miserable. I attract misery like lint.

This little bit of conversation came right out of the blue at five o clock in the afternoon and I wasn't even whining [well to him anyway]

So I came to a decision, [woo! momentous!] I will stop complaining for an entire week. Not about men, food, work, .. nothing. So even if a gigantic meteoroid smashes into my living room and I have to be so highly inconvenienced as to walk around it, I will still remain stoic and talk positively ["ahh.. a huge rock! rocks are pretty!"].

Of course this blog will become extra boring as I talk about how remarkable life is and what not. but I guess if I have to repress [repress!] for a week you can put up with me going on and on about rainbows and butterflies..

2:22 [Its only 2:22!]

OMG. lets do a positive spin. Not killing my office manager will not land me in jail where I will be not be shanked by baldies in orange jumpsuits. There. that was... uplifting. You know what? I will just concentrate on my burger. Lalala. Nice burger.

A girl crush

Anyway as you noticed that lately I've been what you would call.. a misery guts [thats the light term for it] so I thought I would treat myself for a blow dry, since my hair exploded sideshow bob style and I was only holding it together by forty five bobby pins [sideshow bob? bobby pins.. thats some weird karmic correlation right there.]

Back to the topic, I shuffled off to the hairdresser- some Japanese salon around the corner and this very very cute girl y'know comes and washes my hair. And then when she was finished, she directs me back to my chair and says:

I massagie your head, ok? [Wahahaha.. do you know how much I enjoyed her saying that? I'm seriously a forty year old, orange-coloured white man wearing a fake rolex]

And then proceeds to give me the most spine-tingling head massage that I've ever ever and will ever receive. You know how some people just don't know where the points are and just end up massaging your eyebrows and your earlobes? Well, she didn't do that.

Eeee... I think I was half in love with her by the time she finished, or in lust. Or wanting to hire her as my permanent massage slave.

Sb thinks I should ask her out. Should you really ask someone out on the basis of a good massage? Wouldn't that make me tremendously shallow?! [yes. yes, it would.]

Deal or no deal

I just got offered a bit of a payrise to stay in this office longer.

Of course the obvious answer should be along the lines of "WAHAHAHAHAHA.. will you fuck off with yourself?"

But then I think.. [sigh] wouldn't an extra six hundred dollars help to take me to Taiwan to Saffron's wedding?

And then I think.. bugger that, I have just enough for an expensive handbag and what I want to do is lay down with it for a week.

then back to... "It's one of your best friends weddings.. Good fucking grief, get off your ass and go"

and then.... "But I'm tiiiiiired *whine and the people in this office are bitchy and lazy and don't eat salt n vinegar chips [even though bizaarely they buy it in bulk]"

After all this to-ing and fro-ing, when the time comes for me to answer the phone and do my job, my head is not even here anymore. "Hello, wedding dress. Mushmush speaking" and then the other person down the line says in befuddlement "Wedding dress? Isn't this Wynn Tressider?"

* Sorry no pictures lately, I can't hook my usb into this comp.

I'll stop talking about the office now

and let Dilbert do my talking. In fact, I think I'll just let Dilbert do all my talking from now on. [You'd like that wouldn't you?!]