Happy New Year

My Xmas List

The things, I realised later, that I may have wanted for 2010 Xmas. Not that anyone asked me, it was food and clothing all the way.

A Parkinson DVD
A Jay-K DVD
The new Doctor Who series on DVD
A hose roller thing
A new, or sharpened, pair of hedge shears
A new coffee bean grinder
A new USB stick
A Lovely mug, for Sam
Exile on Main Street remixed

Doesn’t My Cat Have Cute Ears

Oh, well. I guess you will have to take my word for it. She has very cute ears. The cutest.

Hands In The Air, Shrug

Oh, what's the deal with the AFL naked photo story? Why didn't the AFL simply say, yes all of our players are men and yes they all have penis'. They are all athletic and probably most of them would look good naked. End of story. No more comments. They just fuel the sensationalism by making endless comments. And, of course, the lawyers are there sucking on the vein of hype.

Who cares?

Everybody is naked under all of it.

Why are we so American about nudity? You know, screwy. Why aren't we more European? You know, blase.

(In a French accent) "Oo cares." (Hands in the air, shrug)

Having said that, I did google the photo, but of course.

Nice wanger, Nicko. Grow some pubes you moron.

I'd post it here, if I cared any more than to take a quick glance at it. There are sexier photos of naked men, believe me.

What Friends Are

I made a promise to be more, to all of my friends. But life got in the way, as life has a habit of doing. We all haven't talked in so long, you know together, around the same table so to speak, but it doesn’t seem to matter, it’s as though no time has passed when we do get together. That’s what friends are.

I feel like we are always working now a days, it seems to be a given, a sign of being productive. I found a local news article that describes ways we can fill our lives with work rather than love. It's easier than it sounds, ha, ha. But then, we all look like we have already found the secret.

Work to live, that’s my motto, it was Australia’s motto once. Not live to work. We need to rediscover the dinner table laden with food and wine, surrounded by friends and long evenings to consume all of it. Forget the board table Australia and go home to your loved ones. The corporate world eats it’s young and leaves the carcass bleeding in its wake, don’t forget that.

Happy holidays.

Kitchen cupboard delight. I love that paint effect. It is, of course, only a photographic paint effect. My kitchen cupboards aren't really that colour.

Cancel The Day

I’m texting Sam in bed at 9am. He tells me to get a plan, cross things off my list. Work, achieve. I tell him it’s just nice lying here. He says he has work to do.

I wander down to find Shane on the couch, looking quite bright-eyed. He’s been in his room all weekend with the meth pipe, although he’s not admitting to anything, but I can tell. He leaves for work around 10am.

I make coffee and look out the window. And back to winter? I think. Cancel the day, is my second thought. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not going to care. And today’s the 20th, and not the 21st, so I don’t even have to head out to pay my phone bill, as I thought I had to.

It’s 13 degrees. I’m almost feeling like I could put the central heating on.

later...

I suddenly decide I had to do something for the day, one thing, do just one thing, have a haircut. Before the Xmas rush. So I look nice for the New Years Eve festivities. I head off in what I’m wearing, really bad tracksuit pants and the oldest hoodie in creation. I’m just wandering along Smith Street when I hear a voice yell my name.

It’s David. He’s off to the pharmacy for the “Heath Ledger” mix of sedatives for his upcoming trip to India.

It takes him as long to get his scripts filled as it does for me to get my haircut, WTF? So it would seem. We meet up again in the bakery and buy rolls – he buys a salad roll, I buy pork rolls.

We chat out the front. Somehow I seem to dob Shane in again for a drug fuelled weekend. Actually, it was in the telling of Sam wanting to try it, that I inadvertently tell on Shane. I tell David he doesn’t have to say anything to Shane. David says that I know he is going to be straight onto the phone as soon as he leaves me.

I try to get him to promise not to.

He says no chance.

I plead.

He laughs.

Lunch in Carlton

We head off on a bike ride, but the rain beats us back. Sam is a chicken, the first spot of rain and he wants to turn back. I don’t mind risking it, it makes it more exciting. I have places all along my route where I know I can shelter, bridges and the underneath of freeways and the like. We would have been fine, as it turns out. We shelter under a tree in the Fitzroy Gardens when the rain first starts before we slip off on home, Sam saying something about me not listening to him, until I put my hand over his mouth. He laughs.

So, if exercise is out, then it is food.
Sex and food – I know exercise isn’t quite sex, but it is a preparation, you know – the two great powers in life, the only forces in life.

We head off to Carlton to eat Japanese for lunch, at our favourite place to eat. We had to eat outside, despite the cold, as whoever was on was playing Celine Dion, ug! Hideous. When will that bitch die? Good thing I bought us jumpers, but I love the fresh air, none the less. It's like nectar to me.
Then we head to Lygon Street as Sam thinks he is coming down with a cold and he wants to replenish his apple cider vinegar stocks. There is no health food shop in Carlton, do you believe that?
We head to Soul Food, in Fitzroy, to get the apple cider vinegar. We are only in the shop for 5 minutes, but as we go to leave the heavens have opened up and the rain and the hail is coming down. It deluges with rain in Smith Street for about fifteen minutes, or so. It's wild, good to see and exciting. I love that feeling of looking out at the rain.
You know, I don’t know much about carbon in the atmosphere, but I can tell you that the weather is becoming a might unpredictable.Yet again, I am left looking at the wild weather wondering how people can doubt global warming.

We head over to Sam’s place. Sam goes in first and checks for Anthony and Charlie, I wait in the car. I think, much later, that that is pathetic of me and I’m not going to allow that to happen again. I’ve got nothing to be afraid of, I’m not normally afraid, well, not of that.

Oh, maybe I am? Hm? There’s something to think about.

Anthony is the ex who Sam still lives with. It's true, I didn't want to meet him up until this point, but going in and checking, I don't know, later it just felt stupid.
Have I told you about Charlie? He's a mutual friend of Sam's and mine, who doesn't even know that Sam and I know each other. He's staying with Sam until he finds a new place to live. He's gonna be really surprised. Sam and I have been having fun with that one - let's see how far we can get away with this?

We watch pink flamingos on Sam’s TV before I head to my ex-boyfriend, Lauri’s for dinner. He's in town until tomorrow. The flamingos are amazing in a flock of 1000, or so, all synchronising into a mating dance. Sebastian and Crystal are at Lauri’s, as well as the whole Garcia clan. I feel sad about my family disappearing when I look at all of them sitting around the table. My father’s gone and now my mother nearly is too... and then it’s all over, no more Xmas as I know it.

Today, I'm Putting My Feet Up

I went to see Tron. It was visually exciting, gorgeous to look at, with amazing effects, but, the story was confused. I wasn't sure what was happening, and why, some of the time... a lot of the time... most of the time. Although, the son, Sam Flynn, Garrett Hedlund, is damn sexy and worth watching.

I didn't get the whole old Tron thing. I didn't realise Jeff Bridges was in the original. I didn't recognise Bruce Boxleitner. I might have to go watch the first one now.

Someone told me that if you have a better knowledge of the first movie you will understand the new one better.

I Don't Usually Like Them Blond Haired And Blue Eyed, But For Alex S. I'd Make An Exception

Christmas drinks: the office party... How Much Fun Can You Have

Moderation is smart

Don't drink away your nerves or feel you need to guzzle alcohol just because it's an open bar. Moderation is smart... but makes for not much fun and poor office gossip the next day.

Don't stick to the same old crowd

Use the opportunity to circulate the room and begin conversations with people you rarely see. Be friendly and keep your drink in your left hand, no-one likes a wet hand shake... soon to discover there is a reason why there are people in the office you rarely communicate with.

Don't be a bore

Instead of talking about yourself take the opportunity to thank colleagues for their help and hard work during the past year and keep positive by asking colleagues what they hope to achieve in the coming year. Be gracious... and try to look interested when they are banging on about themselves.

Dress like a pro

Don't interpret the party theme to mean lingerie or any other kinky attire: it's a dangerous place to be getting that out... although, here's hoping that hot Luke comes dressed as a life saver.

Be polite

Don't abuse or make out with workmates - definitely not their spouses... My mate Tom famously got it on with a work colleagues husband at a boozy work picnic... who was last seen having a folding chair thrown at him in the car park as his wife demanded to know why.

Careful how you move it

Don't dance on anything but the floor - never lie on it. Also, careful how you shake it... but that just obliterated all of my best dance moves... be careful how you shake it? How sad and conservative are we going to get, I ask you?

Know when to say goodnight

Don't stay on after you start to slur. If you feel like getting merry head to a nearby bar where you can carry on unobserved. Don't ask your boss to come along... but, that's when the party truly gets interesting. My old boss, two jobs ago, had the best cocaine.

Remember your manners

Don't forget to thank the person responsible for coordinating the party and do consider sending a thank-you note to top management. Companies can invest a lot of effort in a Christmas party and everyone likes a thank you... is this Xmas party circa 1952?

Don't get home and drunken dial anyone - ever... or text, I learnt that one the hard way. Oh boy! 

Drink More Alcohol!

I started drinking red wine at lunch. I never drink alcohol in the middle of the day, I don't know why? Woo! Hoo! Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This is greeeeaaaattttt! We should all drink red wine at lunch. I'm sure the world would be a nicer place.

Except, of course, horny straight boys, they tend to get a bit fisty, but everyone else should join in, make the world a nicer place.

(What exactly would be the test for a horny straight boy, do you think?)

Weeee! Wooosh! Woo! Hoo! I say again! This alcohol sure is funny stuff! He, he, he, he, he!

Is it the direct relationship with the day light that makes it funny? Or is that an inverse relationship - the darker the day the darker I feel. The lighter the hour, the lighter the mood? Actually, that would be a direct, yes.

Oh, who cares! Now, where did I leave that bottle?

Imagine...

I bet Oprah never has to cut around the brown bits in an avocado as she makes her lunch... he thinks, as he tries to scrape as much healthy green as he can from between the lines of brown marbling through the fruit's flesh.

Why aren't things how they are supposed to be? Imagine if things were always as they should be? How much simpler life would be? How different?

My phone packed it in, it's two years old. Shouldn't things las longer than 3 years? I went to charge it up as normal, but now it just wont switch on any more. It nearly switches on and then it crashes. You know who has put a curse on it. In the past, whenever I have asked him something about it, he answers, throw it away and get a new one. That is the answer.

Some friends got terribly nervous when I said that maybe I wouldn't get a new phone. (Of course I would, but the idea is strangely appealing) They looked at me like I was insane. Actually, they shook as they pulled faces, as if one of their own was threatening to rock their very existence.

And, you know, it is good to have a geek boy boyfriend. I told him that I didn't want to pay any more than I am now as I only really text people, I am a mad texter... and you know what, he's found me a new phone within 24 hours of the old one packing it in, to his liking and to my requirements.

A HTC Legend.

It looks kind of cool. I like the big clock and the silver case. I am so no a gadget queen, I seem to have missed that particular gene. I don't care, as long as I can text and call occasionally, that's all I do with a phone.

I bet Oprah has a cool phone?

5am With Cranberry Cereal

I'm a worrier, is there such a word? It's a curse, not unlike back hair (no, I don't have any of that) or renal failure or being ugly or, of course, stupid. I worry about everything. The state of the world? The state of urban planning in Melbourne? What I'm going to do with my life? What I'm going to do for a job? (No, I still have one, but that doesn't stop me) Not being able to write any more. Leaving my JK Rollings shot at literary (I use literary and JK Rollings in the same sentence with a sort of poetic licence) fame too late. (How about my Sam Sheppard shot at literary fame)What the hell am I going to buy Sam for Xmas? I don't reckon my standard issue family present of chocolate will quite cut it. I'm worrying about my cat not wanting to sleep with me any more. Bitch! Bad timing you fat slapper, as the cat food bag is empty. Ha, ha.

I never used to be a worrier, I'm sure? It's too time consuming. Who could be bothered, I ask you? It is a thankless task. But then, I had a peaches and cream kind of childhood, you know, where nothing ever went wrong. I never worried about the future, bring it on. I couldn't wait to grow up, it seemed fascinating. I never used to be scared of heights, either.

It's just when you get to be an adult, you realise how badly you were sucked in by it all. You know, the standard stock issue lies that parents tell. It must be straight out of the parent's parenting book. Santa and the Easter Bunny was just the tip of that putrid iceberg. You realise how quickly it all whizzes by - there really is no time for getting anything wrong.

So here I am sitting up in bed at 5am with cranberry cereal and my laptop, worry about being able to stay awake tomorrow, um, er, today.

 

Oh, I am so horny right now