Sunday Sessions

Right. I'm here. And what a busy bee I've been.

Now in reference to the post/s below, I regret to inform you I'm still walking around with my head in the clouds and am yet to come down to earth. Now thats all Im saying on that matter, for fear someone really will resort to throwing sharp objects at my forehead just to bring me back and make me talk sense again.

Im just a big walking happy face really, with the nice boy who I had reffered to previously continueing to earn points at a rate of knots and I hereby admit I'm pretty dam smitten.

Cue big smiles and the cutesy music. (and various friends throwing fluffy bears at me in frustration)

Moving along (I'd happily talk about it all day but Im sure I'm beginning to bore everyone with my "who knew it could be this good" stories) I'm still being held hostage at work for any one that cares. I say held hostage as I'm pretty sure if one of you fronted up with a truck load of cash to release me from their clutches, Id be a free women. Until such times, I continue to feel like I live here. For the record, its Sunday, and I was here yesterday, and Im here each day this week. Do you see a pattern forming?

A really, really boring pattern. Thank you God for crazy co-workers who help keep me sane. (funny how I need crazy to keep me sane, maybe I should blog about that? Or see a Dr about that?)

If this living at work doesnt pay off soon Im really going to re-think the whole thing.....Or demand pay by the hour wages. (actually I could probably retire at the end of the week if that were the case)

Not much else to report though, without gushing about very nice boys and very happy girls. Poodle needs a haircut desperatly though, should anyone be wondering. (wait wait wait........can you at least let me add that I really trust Poodles charachter judgement, she rarely gets it wrong......and she is quite taken with nice boy. Surely this is a sign???)

I know, its probably just a sign I have a friendly dog......but still.

Due to circumstance beyong my control, you'll be pleased to know Im really broke this week (oh wait, I say that every week). Being broke means I resort to drinking cheap champagne with the poodle whilst thinking up some really random waffle to the computer. This has a 99.9% chance of happening this evening, so should have a post (that doesnt involve either poodles or nice boys who send roses) mentioned in it at all. (i just heard a collective sigh of relief)

At this stage Im not sure what will pop into my mind to write about (brain currenly being filled with visions of baked camembert - and even Im going to struggle to collate an entire post dedicated to cheese) so you'll have to be on standby for the next mind blowing post.

Until then......I better get back to work and continue the game of sitting looking important on my laptop on the corner here.

Stay safe all........(please send camembert or cash)

Better Than Champagne

If I could bottle it I would.

I’m giddy and giggly and in danger of falling. (And I haven’t even been drinking!) It’s better than the best champagne money could buy (not that I know a lot about the expensive bubbles) and requires no marketing gimmicks.

I’m officially smitten.

All weekend I was thinking it couldn’t actually get any better.....and yet it somehow keeps improving.

I’m about to become a walking talking cliché so I’m going to stop right here. All I have to say is this:

Um....Keith who????

The Big V..

Before I even begin I would like to aplogise for whatever may come out of my mouth (well fingers technically) tonight. For a start, I’m more than a little intoxicated following a bottle of champagne (is that just not a gift from the angels or what?), and am embarrassed to say still I’m staring goofily at flowers. (whilst quaffing the bottle of champers that was magically hiding in my fridge)

There are a few things you need to know about me and V Day. (actually, there are few things I shouldn’t tell you, but being pissed I’m bound to spill it to the world regardless)

Number one, when I wrote it had been four years since I got on with the 'Big V' I lied.

I know, shoot me down, why I thought four sounded better than seven I don’t know (is there EVER any method in my logic?) Call it vanity. Meh…. whatever. I’m drunk typing to a laptop, I’ve probably lost all street cred here anyway.

So it’s actually been seven years. Now don’t get me wrong. I haven’t been celibate all those years (tune out family) I just haven’t actually been seeing anyone over the actual V day, or spreading random acts of kindness with anyone that would think to send me anything, or that I would feel the need to send anything in return too either. (Last year was a corker though. See Valentines Day post a couple down) and I was determined I was going to ignore this holiday for the rest of my days.

This wasn’t hard really, as even in the past when I have been seeing people I really wasn’t hugely into the day. Call my cynical maybe, no, wait.... just call me honest. I really have been of the belief that it’s the little things that count.

From all my relationships (again, I lie, the handful that I would actually call relationships I mean) I have only ever been impressed by the little things. Someone looking after me when I’m ill, running a bath when they know I’ve had a rough day, taking a day off work to sit outside a doctors surgery….. that to me is romance. Not flowers or chocolate, or serenading love songs. (for the record though, as long as I live should you ever play a Celine Dion song near me I may be forced to charge at you with a sharp steak knife) but I digress, what I’m trying to say is, I suppose I’m not impressed easily.

Due to the fact I had been communicating daily with man henceforth known as “nice boy”, (shite, as I typed this I just spilt champagne in the bed....should nice boy know this, I’m pretty sure he would re-nig on the roses) (ps – is it just my drunken mind, -or would re-nig on the roses make just a super country song?) Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, so I’m communicating daily with nice boy, thinking how nice he was and how I would really like to smooch the bejesus out of him (once again, not sure who bejuses is, or why I threw it in there, but I’m sure somewhere in my pickled mind it’s a saying I’ve heard) soooo.

Where the hell was I again?

Oh yeah, smooching nice boy (PS how glad am I he doesn’t read this blog?) Anyway, um, yeah, I like him, didn’t know if he likes me (wait – edit – as a single male I have no doubt should I hit him up for it he would be interested – I have size c to d boobies and legs as long as my hair - which as we know covers my nipples - but I mean did he ‘like’ me, like me) (ps again, apologies for just sounding fifteen years old then)

I agonized over wether to send the nice boy a happy valentines message. Would he take it the wrong way, was it too soon, would he think I was some sort of bunny boiling freak etc.

Shite, having poured more champers, I now forget where I was going with this.

I think the bottom line was………I’m pretty wrapt, despite my cynicism (try typing that when you’re cut folks) that he actually thought to send me flowers.

Strangely (or perhaps not if you do a quick run down on the men I’ve dated over the years) I’ve never actually been sent flowers. I think it’s this point at what I’m chuffed at really. My sister (God bless her cottons socks, must dedicate a post to her soon) has been known to send me flowers, mainly because she knows no one else thinks to send them to me. (I know, trust me, if I could patent her I would, then everyone would get the truly top shelf sis I have)

Again, I’ve lost my train of thought sorry.

Let me refill my champagne.

Again.

Right. Flowers. I got. On the big V day.

Lets just cut a really long rambling story short shall we.

I don’t do V Day.

This year I did.

I’m wrapt with my flowers

Yes that’s pretty much it in a nutshell.

Will I celebrate next year? Who knows. I try not to look ahead.

I would like to add though that THANK GOODNESS I GOT FLOWERS otherwise, following sisters text this arvo I might well be drowning in drink right now. (oh wait, I’m doing that anyway. Right. Moving on)

Anyway, my five year old nephew (who has previously gone by the name of Cowboy according to him) came home from Kingergarden with a REAL valentines card. From his “girlfriend”. By all accounts they are as hot and heavy as two five year old can get. If he is starting to share his chips and popper at little lunch with her, Im going to call it love. So he gets a V day card from her (that was the sisters text that would have had me drowning in alcohol by the way)

I go seven fricking years and he gets one in his first year of school!

I know, where is the justice?

As a proud aunt I’d like to say though he did realize the error of his ways at not having a valentines card ready to return to her. (this talent of recognizing this will come in handy, say 25 years from now) In light of the fact he had nothing but his personality in return (though those that know Cowboy will know this should be more than enough) he searched for a gift. Nine year old sister (who bless her cotton socks too, seems to think I’m a pretty cool aunt, even regardless of the fact I don’t remember anyone birthday but my own and Jesus) happened to have an unwanted plastic bracelet from the showbag she got at the local show last weekend. Cowboy has decided this is the gift he will give his beloved.

Now that my friends….. is love.

I simply must leave you know (did I just hear sighs of relief?) to get back to my bottle of bubbles… I have roses I need to goofily smile at and a nice boy I need to ring.

Cheers, and happy fricking V Day to you all.

THUD

Hear that?

That was me just falling off my chair in shock.

I have no time to write, especially now I have stopped working to smile goofily at some red roses sitting on the desk.

Someone throw a fluffy teddy bear at me please.

Valentines Day - Someone Stop It!

I’m still too busy trapped within the gates of hell (aka the office) to write lately. I do indeed to rectify this issue soon (such as, say….actually write something).

I did have to jump on quickly to say two things though. One of them is a big shout out to Whirly, Whirly being a bloke I have mentioned before here who I’ve never actually met, but who I class as a mate anyway. (and who I like to think will have a cold beer waiting for me on my arrival to the NT next time I head that way) Whirly once again made me smile with the wrap he gave my blog. I’m dipping my hat to you my friend! Thank you sincerely, and I really hope you continue to tune in. (providing I do something like say….write. Really must, must rectify my lack of time issue at the moment)

The other thing Id like to say is the big V Day is bearing down on us. (wait, can I rephrase that? 'bearing down' just gives me visions of……..well never mind) So the Big V Day is coming.

I want it stopped.

Like now.

Myself and the Big V do not mix. We haven’t mixed for about oh say…. four years now.

One part of me does almost enjoy however watching princes types throw a tanty when their man doesn’t send a big enough / flash enough / wrong number of roses etc flower arrangement. The best year was when a co-worker got the shits when her man sent her flowers to the house. Apparently this looses its effect…. Cause clearly, its not about love, its about making sure everyone knows you got something.

As I’m expecting nothing I therefore am never disappointed…..just as well as its been some four years since any form of happy V day message arrived for me.

None the less, as the whole day tends to disappoint me (at everyone else’s behaviour and expectation I mean – girls you have a man you apparently ‘love’, be happy…even if he doesn’t send you a bunch of overpriced flowers) For this reason I would like the Big V stopped.

STOPPED RIGHT NOW.

I’m still recovering from last years (when I actually bought someone a card, only to discover he had planned to go out for drink and dinner that night……..just not with me, with another girl)

So move over V Day. Here’s to “I don’t need a significant other cause I’m significant enough myself day”

Bring it on.

(or alternatively, I hope the nice boy I’m currently communicating with sends a cute text message at least – especially if I get enough courage to send one to him)

I'm On My Way...

I'm on my way, from misery to happiness today uggh huh, uggh huh..... *insert rest of bad cheesy song here*

Truth be told, I don't actually know the rest of the song, just that one line. But I am on my way to another post, at least just as soon as work eases up to let me do it. I've been sidetracked by a brief visit to hell (AKA work) and a requirement to be here seven days a week. Might add as a holiday destination, hell is really not up to scratch, seven days in North QLD would have been the preffered option. As for work, Im ready to tell them to kiss my fine ass.

Really, free access to the internet just isn't enough, I demand delegated work time to post entries and write as well dam it! *stomps fists on desk*.

Also, due to the fact I started detoxing this morning and have had no caffeine since last night, I do warn you that I might be a little antsy and on edge. (close to ripping everyones heads off and stuffing them down their throats in other words)

So I'm on my way........to what I don't know yet. A post of some description, Im aiming for funny.........but it might be a lot to ask of a girl in caffeine withdrawal.

In other news, perusing my star signs yesterday I discovered that three days ago was apparently my standout day of the year. What the?! Why the frig no one bought that to my attention before the actual event is beyond me. So if three days ago was the highlight of my year - might add it was a ten hour day at work filled with stress, hair pulling and possibly the odd tear - well if thats the best day of the year I'll, I'll, I'll...demand a new bloody horoscope.

Scorpio gets the good stuff, might become one of those.

Must run, hell (AKA work) calls.........till later my friends, I'll contact you once Im realised from the burning fires....