just when you thought the party season was over

2 birthdays: one i will be celebrating tomorrow night - happy birthday rainman; one i've already started celebrating by correspondence - happy birthday meg.

a hen's night - last saturday - and I don't know if my feet will ever be the same.

a wedding - saturday week - and we all know how those end up.

a reunion - that canadian-wannabe came home early. piker.

and a canberra bloggers party. still undecided. do i want to come out of the blog closet to the canberra blog community? do any other canberra bloggers even read my blog besides you matty?

huh?

It must be wonderful to be able to mask your incompetence with big words and technical jargon. Fortunately for you, most people around here are numpties and will accept your excuses for failure to understand them. You make no sense to me either, but not because I don't know the lingo. We both know you're an imbecile with a skill for blumbering your way through life. One day it will trip you up. And I will smirk and close the door on you again.

clubbing

I've spent all weekend listening to really bad music, and my feet are still on fire.

itchy

I got sunburnt down the coast last weekend, and it's just now got to that itchy stage, right before you start peeling. Praise for long fingernails, yet the temptation to scratch really hard must be resisted at all costs. Raking claws across red-raw skin. It only feels good for a second or two before it stings. I'm drinking gallons of red wine to help me forget it's there.

so far so good

As of today, I am the proud owner of a gym membership. Only a week and a half later than I said I would. I would procrastinate procrastinating if it didn't sound like I would have to do things when I say I will. The question that now begs answering is: will I actually go? Is the third time really the charmer?

I am also the proud new owner of a Virgin credit card, which came in the mail today. It's pink so it matches my iPod. I'm such a yuppie. Or I can at least pretend to be one, as I now have a credit limit to go with. I'm scared. But oh what fun I will have before spiraling into a hole deeper than what I can buy my way out of.

Couldn't have been better timing. I need new gym gear...

irresponsibility

ever feel like you want to just walk away ... let it be someone else's problem ... fuck it ... let someone else take the wrap ... set them up and let them fall ... plot a new scheme for tomorrow and pick on someone new ... random people will wear the blame like someone else's underpants ...

mal-supremacy

She gripped it firmly, but not too tightly, one hand beneath the other. It was not her first time, but she had not done this in a long time. Yet that familiar surge of power coursed through her once again. With the slightest glimmer in her eye, she stroked the shaft with her forefinger, lovingly, before squeezing, gradually applying more and more pressure, until... CRACK! The explosion reverberated in her ears and she was satisified.

Guns are fun.

shhhh

I had a really interesting day today, but I can't tell you about it. It's classified.

which one?

When you write for more than one blog, how do you decide which one to post a particular entry on? Is it by subject matter, writing style, purpose of the blog, level of familiarity or anonymity with your readers? Do you post it on both, because it is such a fabulous piece of writing you want as many people as possible to read it? I can’t honestly say this scenario has ever applied to anything I’ve ever written, but the narcissist in me likes to pretend people hang off my every word with admiration and envy. Ha!

Writers often do this [I’m not sure about bloggers] for many reasons, and it’s a situation I come across more and more often in my little corner of the publishing world. People send their stories all over the place, knowing it will end up in many more ‘rejection’ piles than ‘maybe’ piles. By sheer luck their piece may end up in more than one ‘yes’ pile. ‘Sweet’ says the author. This means more money, more prestige, more recognition. Fuck contracts. Forget the publisher’s desire for exclusivity, or at least first rights. And don’t worry about being labelled a two-timer. Or a one-hit-wonder. That doesn’t happen in the publishing word. No. Never.

dread

It’s not far now till my little bro’s wedding. My future sister-in-law has been dieting and exercising frantically so she will look stunning in her wedding dress. Of course she will. But it, in my mind if no one else’s, only draws attention to the fact that I have no will power and no motivation to do the same. I’m a slob. While I don’t overeat, and I hate McDonalds [Big Macs are 55% fat, btw], I love beer and can’t stand jogging. I hate most sports and have Pizza Hut on speed-dial. But tomorrow afternoon, I plan to visit the local gym and check out the facilities. Maybe I’ll actually go this time round. This will be my third attempt at gym-junkie-ness. I need drastic action, and this is cheaper than cigarettes or liposuction. Wish me luck strength.

undecided

The sun is warm on her skin but the breeze is somewhat cold, and she can't decide: jacket on or off? She leaves it off for the sake of fashion. Her nipples become hard from the cold and they poke through her shirt conspicuously. She folds her arms to conceal them, but the appreciative stares from the young men nearby make her sit up straight and she thrusts her chest outward. Provactively. And she smiles with false confidence and hopes they don't notice.

Just forget it

Things often never go the way you plan them, and some things you plan never happen at all. I’m never planning anything again. Impromptu is always much more fun anyway.

Keep it to yourself

It’s always nice when someone shares news with you that you may not be aware of that is actually of some interest or relevance. Like a job opportunity in your area of interest or expertise, for instance. But when that news comes from someone unexpected, like, I dunno, lets say it’s Letch. Then, you have to wonder if there’s a motive. Either he hopes I will apply, and consequently leave the Centre, so he no longer has to worry about my “viciousness”. Or he’s just looking for an excuse to talk to me. Yuk.

procrastination

Today I'm finding myself doing all the things I've put off doing for ages, so I can avoid doing other things I should be doing.

feels like an eternity

I'm going to lie and say I've been too busy to blog lately, because the truth is weak.

So, I've been back at work for a week and a half now and it's like I never left, except now I have this intense motivation to get stuff done so I look extremely dedicated and talented. People think this of me anyway, but I'm a nice person and am generous enough to qualify their opinions with actual results.

My first day back in the office was surreal. Every year we get a bunch of new people, and they had all started the week before me, walking around knowingly like they were old school. I felt like the newbie.

And Letch approached me after smoko and asked me not to be so "vicious". WTF? I hadn't said a word all morning. Suddenly I was 13 years old again...

"Why don't you like me?" "What'd I ever do to you?" "Why are you such a mega-bitch?"

Because I can be.

I could almost hear a whiny school-girl voice behind that pasty, wrinkly, old-man face.