13

Often the number 13 evokes a sense of intense fear and danger by those who come across it in their everyday lives. The number brings forth images of black cats, women pinned to stakes, ladders, breaking mirrors and just a general feel of ominous doom. Whether you come across it in calculating finances, planning a party, or choosing a house or car, if something is suggestive towards this lowly-regarded number being the sum of whatever it is you're doing, chances are that at first sight of it you'll be running for the hills, far far away, along with the rest of herd.

I, usually, am part of this herd.

If we're looking at houses, I won't want one that has 13 in the address. With cars, I add up the numbers on the reg: if the total comes to 13, again, I consider it a bad sign. (Don't get me started on cars with three of the same number, the number that comes after 5 but before 7 - shudder).

I don't know why I tend to diverge from this number. I think over time I've just gone along with the flow and joined in with the rest of the hype about the number: I've actually heard that Italians consider it a lucky number. Growing up, Red had a bit of a fear about it, and she kept seeing signs of it everywhere: dates, the time, even the number of letters in her first and last name added up to 13. (Teenage girls have a lot of time on their hands).

Another friend I grew up with, got her first period on Friday the 13th. Faaaarrrrrrr. She was secretly rapt, I know, being a bit of a late bloomer and all, but I was just like "What? Friday the 13th? Of all days?!"

I've ended up having my birthday on the 13th a couple of times, just the way the dates worked out that year, and I can't say anything really horrible happened. But if given the option, I would always go for the other option, rather than outright choose something with 13 associated with it.

(I think the stories of my parents upbringing got me really superstitious and stuff too.)

However, I'm starting to see things differently. Today is a 13 number for me, and a great number at that.

Including today, I only have 13 more working days until I go on leave next month.

:-D! :-D! :-D!

YIPPEE for me! I am so excited. When I start preparing my to-do list of holiday stuff, I think I might spontaneously explode with the amount of items I will be potentially ticking off.

And because Hubbie isn't able to take holidays with me, as he has only recently started a new job, I will be on my own, getting lots of little bullshit jobs done. I'll be organising photos, cleaning windows, sorting through recipes and indexing them, throwing out old bills, EVERYTHING!

You think I'm crazy now don't you? You think I'm going to devote my time off to just cleaning the house? No siree!

I'm gonna be catching up with my parents, my sister, my cousins, my extended family, my friends, the works! On Hubbie's days off, we're going to go out and not come home until it's dark! I'm going to be watching my fave tv shows and movies 'til REALLY late at night, because I won't have work the next day! I'll be shopping, trying on dresses with Red for her wedding, going to parks, to the beach, eating out and most important drinking coffee and eating cake and ice cream!

!!!!!

I am going to do it all, whenever, however and wherever I like! :-D

Oh, and I almost forget. I'll be finishing off my book then too, you know that story I keep mentioning. Yeah......

:-D

Which brings me to another 13. I finished chapter 12 last night.

:-D :-D :-D

Imitation is the sincerest form of Insult

I need to get this out so that I can try to move on. In true OCD form I've been completely obsessing over it, and I can't take it anymore.

Let's play the hypothetical game again, with not so hypothetical people, and a not at all hypothetical situation.

Let's say, I have some really nice kitchen items. To make this game easier, I'll say I have a beautiful fruit bowl, with matching salt and pepper shakers that sit beside it. It took me ages to find something this beautiful, unique and original in the modern style Hubbie and I were going for in the kitchen (remember, hypothetical!) So when we got it and put it in there a couple of months ago, we were like "Ahhhh." Looks good.

Now, about a month ago we had Mouth over with another couple. During the course of the visit, after she had been to my kitchen, she commented to me "oh, I like your fruit bowl, and the salt and pepper shakers. Really nice. Where did you get it?"

I was probably slightly thrown by the fact that she never really notices anything or anyone but herself, and it seemed she was giving me a genuine compliment for my kitchen things. I said quite casually "oh, from blah and blah."

I didn't think much of it. I later heard from Hubbie that the other couple who were over, well the woman expressed how much she really liked my kitchen things, and added "they're from blah and blah, yeah?"

When Hubbie told me this I was like "no! She can't get the same things as us!" But the knowledge that the shopping centre we got it from wasn't exactly local, kept me secure in the fact that she wouldn't go there by herself and get them. She could just safely admire them from a dsitance whenever she was at our house.

So I forgot about it.

Just recently, we found ourselves at this woman's house. Mouth was there also, and some other people. A couple of hours into it, Hubbie whispers to me "have you been to the kitchen?"

He has a weird look on his face. "What?" I ask, confused.

"She bought the things." He's smiling but I can see his expression is really wary, judging me and how I'm going to react. My mouth drops open as I realise what he's talking about. I'm gaping.

"Don't overreact. Don't make a scene."

I get up immediately and march to the kitchen. My heart drops when I get there, when I see MY fruit browl and matching salt and pepper shakers.

I am in absolute shock. She bloody went there. She went to the shopping centre, to the exact same shop and bought the same bloody things as me. And now her kitchen looks like mine.
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I am completely deflated. Dismayed, upset, devastated, shocked. Hubbie reads my face as I come and sit back down. "Don't jump, you don't know the full story. Don't be upset, ok?" I'm wondering at his words, wondering what the hell extra there is to know that would make this situation better for me, but I try to push it out of my mind, not wanting to appear obvious.

Not too long after that, I'm talking to Mouth. And somehow, in conversation, she says "so last weekend I went to blah shopping centre with woman, to get those things at blah shop, you know your kitchen things?"

All the pieces are falling into place. But it's actually getting worse for me.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, we went and bought them."

The word we I'm having an especially hard time with. It's sticking out like a sore thumb in a sentence of fingers.

"You went and bought the exact same things?" My tone is dead, expressionless. I'm numb with shock.

"Yeah." Her response is almost questioning. As if she's trying to work out what my take is on all of it.

She goes on and on as my heart sinks deeper.

"They have good priced forks there, you know," she waffles on. (hypothetical forks!)

"Yeah," I say flatly. "That's why I like it there. I like to get good, different things that arent the same as everyone else."

There's a distinct pause. I can hear her thinking. Then, because she's a fucking tool, she continues unaffected.

Phew. I need to calm down.

Perhaps I need to give you a little back story, so you can understand my strong aversion to copying.

Growing up, I had a friend, let's simply call her copy-cat. Enough said, right? In primary school she would read off my work, and when I'd catch her I'd yell out "stop copying!" She would say back angrily "I'm not copying!" And yet she would still do it, peering over my arm which I tried to protectively cover my work with.

All my friends knew. When she was near them she would try to copy their work too. But because my regular seat was next to her, I got the brunt of it.

Copy-cat and I went to the same high school. Here, I didn't have as many classes with her, but the rest of my friends there soon found out how she was, and again she was accused of copying. The annyoing thing with her was that she would copy you, and then make her work better. That was the aggravating thing. That and obviously denying that she was even plagiarising our work.

It was easier for me in high school, knowing my friends there could see what I could see. But then as I thought I lost her annoying habit, I gained the same habit in someone else. My cousins Legs and Hair.

Now I absolutely love them to pieces, I really do. But there was a time when I was growing up, and them being younger than me and looking up to me of course, that they would imitate me. They liked the things I liked. They dressed like me. And on and on. At one stage one of them confided to me that their own grandmother said to them "You should be more like Miss S." Although I was only 14 at the time, I lost it when I heard this. "Screw her! Don't be like me, or anybody else, be your own person!"

And they did, and I'm so proud of my adopted sisters for what they have grown into.

But what I'm trying to show here is that I had a lot of copying of me over the years, copying that scarred me, and that has made me want to be completely original, different and unlike anybody else. The more people copied me, the more I shied away and tried to be even more original and unique.

So that, on top of the fact that I have to mentally imagine kicking Mouth like a football far off into the distance just to get her annoyingness out of my head, has got me so unbelievably pissed off that you can't imagine.

I can't believe, that she went and bought the exact same things as me. She not only went into the same shop (which is fine) but she bought the exact same things! Has she no shame? Is she not embarrassed, does she not feel pathetic? I would be completely ashamed of buying the exact same thing as someone else, and then have them come into my house and see that I've copied them. How shameful! Shame, shame, shame.

The reason I'm not having a go at the other woman - though I am still upset! - is because Hubbie said to me not to be. She's older, and she looks at other people for home ideas. She doesn't know. I exhaled loudly when I heard this. I'm still exhaling. I wanna do it for him, but it's not easy. I would do anything for him though.

But Mouth. Mouth is younger than the woman. She's older than us. (Another shameful thing, copying people younger than you) She should know better. When the woman called Mouth and said "I want to get the same things as Miss S," Mouth should have said "No, that's embarrassing, we'll go and get something different."

Mouth, the same Mouth who would have a go at someone for copying her. The same mouth who only ever praises or talks about herself. The same mouth who never gives anyone recognition. Do you think when guests comment on her kitchen things that she's going to be honest and say "I copied Miss S' style"? No! No she won't because she is a narcissist!

Argh! I'm so furious. I can't take it. The saying about imitation being flattery, is a load of bullshit. It's not flattery for someone whose suffered the effects of people trying to steal her style for only HER ENTIRE LIFE.

It absolutely boils me to my core. Do not copy me! Especially you, Mouth! I can't stand it, I'm absolutely fuming with anger.

Hubbie and I don't have the biggest house. But with what we have, we try to make the best of it, and put really fine touches to our house to make it unique. We buy quality items, interesting pieces, and all the furnishings show attention to detail and careful planning. Both Mouth and woman have big, new houses. Do they have to take the one thing I have, my style? Do they want that too? What else do they want from me, my life?

Leave me with the one thing I have, please. Leave me that. But no, they had to take it. SHE had to take it.

These obsessive fiery thoughts would not stop going around and around in my head yesterday. I had to talk to Sis. She is awesome, she is so awesome that my next post will be about her, to counteract the angst that is Mouth and everything about her that I despise.

Sis helped me. She tried to get me to see it in a different light. She suggested the conclusions that Hubbie and I had already come to: that we don't tell them where we buy our things in the future - we be vague if ever asked; and that this whole situation was a lesson learnt for the future. She didn't see it in the way I did, because she says she's had a friend copy her thing, and she's even copied another friend for something. But see, it's the way you go about it. My sister is very honest, and would admit to the person how much she loved it and that she was intending to buy one for herself. Mouth however is sneaky. She gives me praise - just enough - but not so much that I thought she really liked it. Then she organised a shopping day with woman, they went off and bought it without a mention of it to Hubbie and I. When it was too late, it was all bought and done.

Hubbie agrees. He's not so hung up on it as I am, but when I asked him, he admitted "I'm spewing." He didn't have to have someone copy him his whole life to make him want to be original and have different things. It's so annoying.

You know what else? We have this other 'kitchen item' a 'coffee machine' (not really, still hypothetical!) that she's asked us about, and I've said that we've bought it in a far-off region. She also knows that some of our other home furnishings are from that 'far-off region.' Guess where Mouth and her family went a couple of weeks ago? To the far-off region! What, you need another coffee machine? Get your own fucking style you leeches!

Geez, do they want to copy our whole house? The thing that peeves me off, is as I said in reference to my Sis, they're not honest. Admit you like it. Say it out loud and MEAN IT. Unlike them, who often snub their noses at things we've seen, things we've bought, and things we've done (like going to the far-off region) and then they explode with fireworks and expect you to shower them with attention when THEY GO!

I know, I know. Narcissists, in every sense of the word.

We're actually going to find a whole new, different, unique and original fruit bowl with matching salt and pepper shakers. In a couple of months we're going to a similar far-off region, and I'm going to go into as many shops there as I can, and find something bigger and better. (See how we have to buy something different because of other, annoying people?)

And THEN when they say "oh, you have different ones?!"

I'M going to say "yes, I like to have truly original pieces unlike anything anyone else has."

And I hope that that boils her and makes her feel PATHETIC. Copy cat.

What I hope for most? That after this realisation I make her come to (and I will) that she will always see my face in her fruit bowl and salt and pepper shakers. Forever.

And I hope she can live with herself for that. Because denial doesn't ever change the fact.

Engagements and Weddings are coming out of my ar - .... ahem, behind - PART 2

Yes, there are more. As if there were not enough already, and with both of my friends' engagements behind us now, I can confirm more details of engagement/wedding joy impending on us.

THE DEFINITES

- The wedding that was confirmed for this month has now been postponed 'til Jan next year. That I don't mind, because October is always so busy for us, and January is super boring. So it evens things up a bit.

- This upcoming weekend we have an engagement - family friend on my side who announced her engagement not long ago.

- My friend is having her wedding in May, as previously confirmed.
- On the same weekend as above friend, Hubbie's 2nd cousin is also having his wedding. On the SAME weekend. Geez people. Hoping he picks the Sunday, as above friend is already confirmed for the Saturday.
- Red is having hers November next year.
- The week after Red's is Hubbie's best mate's wife's bro who is getting married to a relative of Hubbie's.

THE MAYBES

- 2 cousins of mine, both who haven't made dates as yet
- The above mentioned family friend will most likely have her wedding next year
- Just a couple days ago we heard that (deep breath) Hubbie's best mate's wife's brother's FIANCE (also known as Hubbie's relative) her brother has just announced his engagement. Phew! So that wedding may happen next year too. And an engagement may precede that also, all depending....
- Another cousin of Hubbie's who lives overseas, has met a man who lives in Australia, and they will most likely be moving here. They have filled in the relevant paperwork, and again, a wedding should definitely follow.

See how, when it rains it freaking pours cats and dogs????

AFTERWORD

I wrote this a couple of days ago before I posted it today. As Murphy's Law would have it, one of my above cousins who I said is most likely to get married next year, Legs, well she emailed me to say they have broken up. Without going into the specifics, she isn't going to wait for somebody who suddenly doesn't know what they want, as heartbreaking as it is. I feel so badly for her. It was kind of obvious things weren't right, and for a while now both families have been at it, but to come to this was something I never expected of them.

And he seemed the best match for her. Obviously not.

And then I hear my other cousin is already into the (completely outdated and domineering) habit of putting down his fiance in front of other family members. Like really? He's turning into his Dad who he despises so much. Let's see how long this one will take.

Sounds like my side of the family won't be contributing to any matrimonial bliss for a while yet......

Happiness Is.... #5

Happiness Is....

Shopping with your best buddies. Walking around a shopping centre aimlessly, not necessarily buying anything but nontheless window-dreaming and thinking big. Talking about a random multitude of subjects because hey, that's what old friends do. They are never at a loss for words.

The conversation is about people, places, things; everything. Somehow it turns to books. And I say to Blonde teasingly, in reference to her inability to complete reading an entire book (she much rather prefers shopping) "When I finish my book, Red can read it and then tell you all about it."

I say this quite seriously even though I'm teasing. I'm under no false pretences about her choice of activites. I'm giving her a 'get out of jail free' card.

Immediately she turns to me: it's an instantaneous reaction. "No, I'M going to read it!" I laugh.

A few minutes pass before I realise how valuable her reaction to my statement was. I tell her and we laugh again.

I love it. I love my friends. Red and Blonde are the best. Their support to me in my creative endeavours is incredible. I love them for wanting to read my book because they want to. And I love them for wanting to read my book even more, even though it may not be the first preference of sparetime activity they would normally choose.

Cherish your true friends :)

Engagements and Weddings are coming out of my ar - .... ahem, behind

I couldn't sleep last night, lying in bed for a whole 2 hours after turning off the lights. It may have been the two coffees I had yesterday, or the fact that I slept in because we had a massive Saturday night.
Or it could have been because I was counting all the upcoming engagements and weddings we have coming up.

It's all very exciting, I must admit. In the past when we've had weddings/engagements galore, it's generally been more of Hubbie's extended family, and so although we've enjoy ourselves like we always do at parties and stuff, it is nothing compared to when you are supertight with the people there.

A month ago a close friend called to tell me she's engaged, and only a week ago Red called on her return from a holiday with Mr Wine to tell me he'd proposed. I was screaming into the phone and trying to hold back tears of happiness. SOooooooooooooooo happy :-D :-D :-D

Last night Hubbie and I were on the couch, when his best mate started messaging him. Turns out his wife's bro is getting married, and the girl is also extended family from Hubbie's side. We know the couple from both ends! That is also super-duper exciting, as we get along really well with Hubbie's best mate and wife, and we can't wait to party it up with them at the wedding.

So last night instead of counting sheep, I was counting all the weddings and engagements we have coming up. Here it is:

Red's engagement in September
My other friend's engagement in October
Definite wedding in late October - friend from school.

Those are the definites. The maybe's:

Hubbie's best mates wifes bro - maybe engagement this year
Another family member on Hubbie's side - maybe wedding later this year
Then I have 2 cousins, both who are getting married, but I don't know when = 2* possible weddings later this year.

THEN:

Next May is definitely my other friend's wedding.
Red is thinking early 2013 for her wedding.
And of course any maybe's that didn't follow through this year, including Hubbie's best mates wife's bro who will most likely get married in the following year.

Phew! So many maybe's it's doing my head in,. What I do know is there are going to be a lot of engagements and weddings in the next couple of years. Who am I kidding, when the engagements and weddings stop, the christenings and 1st birthdays begin........

:-D

French Kiss the Morning

Prior to my affogato burst early last week, I was buzzing on something entirely different the previous Saturday night.

Cosmopolitans.

And because of that, I don't think I'll be having any Cosmo's for a LOOONNNNGGGG time.

Let me explain.

It was one of our closest friend's 30th birthday that weekend. Her and her husband, being big spenders, had a pretty extravagant evening planned. A group of 10 of us, were driven over to an exclusive waterfront restaurant, had a HUGE 3 course meal feast, PLENTY of drinks, and then were all driven to a city bar, where we continued to drink, and drink, and drink.... (and dance on podiums....!)

Boy did I pay for it the next day. Following a night, where I had one glass of wine, and about 7-8 Cosmopolitans, it took all the energy I had to keep awake on the drive home. Because I knew if I fell asleep, I might chunder, per Men At Work lyrics.

Getting home, I managed to brush my teeth and remove my make-up with one of those handy moisturised make-up removal wipes. As I crashed into bed, with Hubbie already in his 10th dream beside me, I closed my eyes.

And the world started spinning a dizzying black.

I opened them and closed them. I tried to still the blackness, but everything was whir, whir, whirring. And then I just knew what I had to do.

It wasn't so much that I felt it, more than I sensed it. Then again, maybe my purely intoxicated state disguised the nausea I was feeling. I ran to the toilet and vomited.

No. 1.

Nothing unusual here.... the contents I mean. I had clearly had way too many cocktails towards the end of the night, and my stomach was just emptying out the spare fluid. I went back to bed, and can't remember the rest.

The next morning I very slowly woke up. You know when you're waking up, and it takes you a good few minutes to realise you're awake, and not dreaming? Yeah that's called a hangover.

The hilarious thing about this moment of the day, was that I was in bed, 9:30am, thinking I should get up because the alcohol was still in my system and wouldn't let me fall asleep again. Lying there, I remember looking around the bed sheets and going "I need to wash these, I think I'll do that today." I could see bright light peeking through the blinds, and knew the sun would dry my washing quicker. I thought I'd be good, and despite the previous 'big night,' do some cleaning and washing, before Hubbie got home from work (yes poor thing on a Sunday) and we went out again, to a friend's sons 1st birthday.

Yeah right.

As soon as I was upright, I felt my stomach begin to move. And the nausea just kept getting worse. Previous times that I've over-drank and been sick, I've been sick the night of the craziness, rather than the night after. So I couldn't understand why I felt this way, seeing as I'd chucked the night before. I put it down to needing a coffee and some toast to fill my empty belly, and went about, in agony, preparing my breakfast.

I sat down on the couch to watch tv while I ate my brekkie. The only thing I ended up watching was my plate of toast and coffee mug. I couldn't touch it. I couldn't go near it. I was feeling so unwell by this stage, that I started to doubt whether I actually needed any food. But yet again, in my stubborness to see the situation, I decided to have a sip or two of coffee, followed by a bite of toast.

I was trying to talk myself into it. Internally I was like 'yes the coffee is helping, that's all I need.' Several minutes passed before I attempted another bite. As soon as I began to chew though, the wretchedness started moving from my stomach, into my throat.

I ran to the toilet, posing stationary above it. Realising I still had uneaten toast in my mouth, I ran to the kitchen and spat it into a tissue, disposing of it in the bin. Don't ask me why I did this, but I'm glad I did. I ran back to the toilet, and stood there, waiting. But nothing came immediately. Only my mobile started to ring.

Hubbie had already called me once that morning, before I started feeling so bad. So I was highly doubtful of it being him again. I walked over to my phone, and saw 'Dad.'

I paused a second. Should I answer? I decided I would, knowing that I could talk my way out of it, without anyone being none the wiser of my ailing condition. He couldn't see me.

Hahahahahahaha.

I answered, and he was like "Are you awake?"

Suspicion started creeping into me. "Yeah, I'm just having breakfast, why?"

"Oh well me and your mum are standing outside, and all the blinds are closed.... we're going to the plaza, and thought we'd stop by if it's alright, we haven't seen you in a while...."

That, I believe, is the definition of Murphy's Law.

"Oh, yeah, come in, no problems...."

Had I spat my uneaten toast in the toilet, I wouldn't have had time to run back and flush. It was like my sixth sense had been telling me to.... "be clean."
LOL.

I answered the door, still in pyjamas and nightgown, and they sat down. I knew my best bet was to not hide my tiredness, or my big night, because although I could hide my need to be sick, if they thought I was simply tired, they would think me leaning on the couch, all fetal position like, meant I just needed sleep.

Look, my parents are really cool. My Mum surprises me when she says "nooooo, it's not bad that you can see your bra through that see-through top!" and my dad impresses me with his stories of youth and the crazy things he did back then, like getting into jail and stuff :) (He's really, very good, which is why it's funny!) If I was sick, or showed myself to be sick in front of them, they'd just get unnecessarily worried, and that I didn't need. One person was enough for me to worry about, and at that moment I couldn't even look after that one person properly.

(Deep breath, I feel myself getting nauseous just thinking about it!)

So I acted my way through it. I made small chit chat. I willingly offered the previous nights story, and the plans for the rest of the day, then let them do the rest of the talking, only answering when absolutely necessary. The visit only lasted for 10-15 minutes. All the while I breathed, willing the contents of my stomach not to come flying out of me.

I did feel so bad. I didn't want my parents to think my silence meant my not-wanting them to be there. But I hoped they would just put it down to my 'tiredness.'

I stood at the door and waved to them as they drove off. And then I ran upstairs to the toilet. (I don't know why I went upstairs, I think I was more comfortable there, as it was there I'd thrown up the night before.)

And yes I threw up. Anything I'd managed to consume of my breakfast went. As well as I think some of the night before.

I sat back on the couch, my stomach feeling lighter, and less nauseous. I thought, 'good, now I'll wait 'til I'm 100%, then I'll get myself ready for later on.'

Wrong.

I sat there on the couch for over an hour. I managed to get up and walk around, throw my brekkie away, and sit back down on the couch. I was so crook. Then again, up the stairs I went.

I stood in front of the toilet, gagging for ages. And then I vomited. Again.

This time it WAS from last night. And I swear, I tasted something citrus-y that resembled the overly-abused Cosmo's. Ugh.

That was the last time I threw up. I couldn't believe how sick I'd been and how many times I'd thrown up, so long after the fact. The rest of the story goes: Hubbie came home, convinced me that I'd feel better if I started getting ready; through many tears of protest 'I still need to vomit!' I got ready; we drove to the 1st birthday party; I sat in the stationary car, there, holding my plastic bag, swearing I was gonna throw - I didn't; we survived the party, I put on the best show of my life; and I had my first bit of food at 4pm, that didn't reverse back on me - chocolate cake.

I hadn't eaten 'til 4pm. I'd had plenty of water and soda water, oh and bits of turkish bread from Hubbie's meal. I'd been terrified to consume something in case I became a regurgitating monster in front of everyone at the party, a la Exorcist style.

Had some Macca's chips at the end of the night, and some bites of Hubbie's burger, as we sat at home, still tired from the night before, I myself COMPLETELY drained of energy. Yeah, I know, so healthy right.

But the point of all this is the vomiting. My theory is, since I'd broken the vomit-from-overconsumption-of-alcohol seal, my stomach is now more sensitive, and more likely to throw up alcohol (never mind me overconsuming it!)

I'd taken pride my whole life in proclaiming that I'd never vomited from alcohol. I could always say that I'd drank heaps, but felt tough and strong, and alcoholically able in knowing my stomach could withstand any combination of potent fluids I put into it, MWA HA HA!

But then I broke the seal.


Seal Breaker 1:

My second Christmas party at this my current employer. I decided I hadn't been loose enough my first year, so went about in drinking more that year. Ended up in the toilets, throwing up, with a really sweet colleague calling out "Miss S, are you alright?" over the cubicles (she hung around because a male cleaner was in the toilet, I know, how nice of her right?) I blacked out the second half of the night and fell asleep at the club we were at. A window totally was smashed in near me and I missed it all, all because I got drunk and passed out. A friend took me home that night in his car, and for his kind troubles I invited him to my wedding :)
Then, I only threw up that night. I was queasy the next day, but I didn't projectile anything.

Seal Breaker 2:

Blonde's sisters Hen's night, of which I've mentioned in my post "WOW. What a weekend/s, what a week/s." It was the first girls night I'd been out to since I got married. I got WAAYYY too excited, so much so that I just couldn't waste the champagne that was left behind, (part of the complimentary drinks for our party) when the guest of honour and her friends left (yes, Red and I outstayed the hostess). So I drank it all. I said 'I love you' heaps to Red, or so she tells me. She says I was really amusing and funny, and still funny when she and her sister had to practically carry me back to their car. I stopped being funny when I warned of throwing up in her car on the way home.
Hubbie thought I was being funny when I said, "I'm sick, I'm gonna throw up," as I stumbled my way up to our bedroom late that night/early morning. But when he heard me heaving my lungs out in the toilet, he realised he wasn't gonna get any funny-ness that night.
Again. I only threw up that night, and was left nursing my poor stomach the next day.

This time however, my 3rd time, I've broken my seal altogether, as well as breaking a new seal, that of throwing up THE DAY AFTER. I'm getting more and more out of control. However in an effort to not throw up ever again from alcohol (as I sat in my PJs for half of last Sunday, I felt so crap, and made myself remember the feeling so as to not do it ever again) I've found the link between the 3 seal breaker scenarios, and realise the circumstance under which I must be careful of going overboard. It's simple really.

All 3 times I said to myself internally "I'm gonna make the most of tonight."

It's simple enough yes I know. And most times you would imagine anyone to want to have a great night out, it's practically a given. However, when I look at my watch, and start realising the night is ending, I kick it up a notch, turn it up a gear, and start getting really crazy. And that's what happened all these 3 times. That and all 3 times I wasn't driving.

My warning thoughts are as follows:

* wanting to have a really good time, because I haven't partied in ages
* wanting to have a really good time, because I want to make the most of it
* wanting to have a really good time, because I didn't make the most of it last time
* wanting to have a really good time, because I'm not driving
* wanting to have a really good time, just for no reason at all

So there has it. I've discovered my internal mental cues, the 'warning signs,' to a potentially messy night. All because I broke my alcoholic seal. Stupid.

New Year, New Decade

Oh wow. Just as I'm writing this, Hubbie and mine's first song, is on tv. It's our song well and truly, amongst others. This song came out in about July 2000, right before we started going out. 10 years ago. Well 11 now.
How appropriate, that it come on, as I start a post about the last year, last decade, and try to determine what the future holds.

WOW. What memories. I've just been taken back.

So, in the last year, there have been some changes, some growth within my life. Hubbie and I purchased a block of land. We made 1 year of marriage (!) which is a celebration in itself, LOL.

Work wise, I've developed substantially, gradually taking on more and more responsibility in my bosses absences. To the point that my bosses boss, says to me "I want you to keep learning, keep asking questions.... so that you may become like her..... understudy."

Shit. Those are big shoes to fill. I gratefully accept the compliments and the belief in my abilities, as to where it all leads, I guess we'll just have to wait and see:)

Relationship wise: as mentioned Hubbie and I made one year. Which sort of pales in comparison to the 10 years we've already been together, but marriage brings about different challenges that can't be experienced in a partnership where you don't live together. Marriage is wonderful, and it's awesome to be your own bosses: eat what you like, get up and go to sleep whenever. If you're cold, put the heater on! They sound like basic things I know, but don't forget the entertaining, the visitors, the parties, the going out. And with all of that comes massive compromise, and that's why marriage is different. Everything is shared, everything is part of you. His family is mine, and my family is his. There are disagreements, arguments, tears and outbursts. There's a bit of getting used to.

But after all of that? Despite the differences, the opposites in behaviour, the coming together of personalities, we are essentially the same people, and love the same things, and want the same things. That helps SOOO much. And last night, lying in bed, as his arm was outstretched over my body, my free hand on his shoulder as my other hand held the open book to read, I thought of how much I loved him. Despite the differences, despite families, despite EVERYTHING, I thought of how much I love him, how much MORE I love him after 10 years. And that tells me everything. Love grows and feeds off of itself. It develops into something so deep, that trivial crap, and itty-bitty bullshit, just doesn't even gain a speck on its radar. It's beyond anything comprehensible. We have so much of it within us, and when we emit it, it comes back to us two-fold, which is an incredible feeling.

So Hubbie and I are good:)

Family and Friends: Yes and yes, but sometimes no. Reading back on any of my blogs over the last year, you could not say that I have the most positive views on some family members, friends and people I know. But you know what, it's not a perfect world, there are no 'perfect' families and with the amount of differing personalities out there, it's impossible for all of us to get along. Having said that, I've learnt that you need to sometimes turn a blind eye, not look too much into things, and also as I mentioned in my "Christmas Wishes" post, wish the person who upsets you most, well. People who I couldn't stand, who I was extrememly disappointed in and let down by, I now feel differently about. I've accepted them as human, not perfect, and clearly with faults, like you, me and everyone else. I've zoned in on the positive, and really, that works. It's helped me so much, and I believe my negative downward spiral of unhappy family/friend realtionships have actually come to an end. Maybe even with Mouth and Moody. OMG. I know, incredible right?

Other fabulous news-worthy items: collingwood won, I saw George Michael and Hubbie and I holidayed in the sunshine state. There are so many more things, but I wanted this post to be future-oriented, rather than concerned with the past.

Having said that, I must look back on this last decade, just quickly :)

I get a very nervous feeling when I think that, because I know what's coming: this last decade, I went from an unattached 16 going on 17 year-old, to a girl going out with a guy who would later become her husband. How wonderful and weird this world is:) I finished high school, started and finished uni, had about 5 jobs until I found my current full-time one. Got married following a mammoth wedding, travelled through a good portion of Europe, and am now living contently a year and a half later.

So when I think of the next 10 years, the next decade, and wonder what my thoughts will be on the last 10 years, THEN, nervous tension bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I know it will involve a new home, expansion of family, friends getting married, and more kids, EVERYWHERE.

I guess change is always scary. Gosh I feel like crying now. I don't know what it is. Sometimes we're so comfortable where we are, that we don't want to move forward, we want to stay stationary in a moment in time. That's how I felt last night. As I've said quite regularly, I'm in a selfish phase of life. It's all about me, and Hubbie. My Hubbie, my life, my job, my car, my clothes, my friends, my family. Me me me. The thought of that changing freaks me out. I know how much I value myself and my life, and so I know that my attention shifting to something else, is something so foreign and almost unnatural, that I think that is what is really freaking me out. The changing of values, lifestyle.

You know what? I don't think it's good to look too far into the future. It can be scary. You don't know what to expect, and how things will transpire.
Not knowing is terrifying. But again as I say that, I am suddenly reminded of myself at the end of the last decade. Knowing all that I do now, having achieved so much academically, professionally, having a loving husband and wonderful family and friends, on our way to building a home, well! Telling my 16 year old self then, she would have freaked to find out so much! But having lived through it, step by step, it wasn't so scary. Interesting, challenging and life-evolving, that's what it was. It's life, it's growth and it's perfectly natural. You take each day at a time, and see where it leads you.

Which is why we do resolutions for a year ahead. It's less confronting:)

So I'm taking a deep breath and now focusing on the year ahead!

I took a peek at my resolutions from the past year, half cringing because I'd half forgotten them, but having re-read them I was pleasantly surprised:

1. To increase my Vitamin D intake by sitting in the sun more ( I love doing it anyway! ) and eating foods that are rich in the vitamin.

So yes lately especially, I've been in the sun heaps, to the point that Hubbie called me something not so nice as a joke in response to my darkened state. I took it as a compliment:) I have it all worked out: in spring and summer I get natural Vit D from the sun, in autumn/winter I take my Vit D supplements. As for the foods rich in Vit D, I try, when I can, but because the food sources are so scarce, I don't stress myself out over them.


2. To decrease arm fat.

Hmmm. So recently actually, I've started running around with Hubbie as he trains for, plays basketball. I think all the shooting and passing of the ball is helping, however until just recently I was quite slack in the department of decreasing arm fat, I didn't really do much. I'm hoping the new year will change that. Look, I don't have a fat arm problem, but I strive for perfection, as dangeous as that pursuit is.


3. To generally get more toned, in particular to target my tummy and reduce the fat there.

As per above comments. I haven't done much exercise to target that, but all the housework and busy lifestyle have helped me, somehow. Which is great.


4. To read more.

So this I have done more of. And I continue to do more of, given my upcoming 2011 resolutions. Read on.


2011 Resolutions

1. To read, HEAPS more. In fact, I want to set up some sort of column/box within my blogger page, so that I can list the books I wanna read and then so to speak 'tick' them off when I do. Seeing it everytime I log into blogger will help me be more aware of it too. I want to read more to help my writing as well (see below resolution), as I want to be more aware of different writing styles, different authors, different stories. I want to know so much, the need to read and research is so great within me right now.

2. To complete my first book by the end of the year. By complete I mean finish writing to my satisfactory standard, so that I can start promoting it to agents, or however it goes. As nervous as I get when I think of it, I think it is a realistic goal. One story, one year. I'm sure some would think I've given myself too much time even, however what I want to do is start something big, and I need the proper research, planning and education to get it right off the bat, so that when I continue with my following books, it all flows perfectly and effortlessly.

3. To get fit. Whether it's playing basketball with Hubbie, taking on yoga, or just getting into long walks/runs, I really want to make it a part of my life. I make health-oriented goals each year, and I know that with some of them, I do somewhat succeed, but others are just a waste of written space. I don't want that to be the case this year. I really want to make an effort of it. And seeing myself in my mind, with the body I want, is motivation enough.

4. To improve all my relationships, full-stop. To not sweat the small stuff, which will be assisted by the Richard Carlson "Don't Sweat the Small Stuff" daily calendar Red bought me for chrissy. To relax, not worry, see the postive in everyone and all things. To wish the people that annoy me, well, and MEAN it.

5. To continue on my path of spiritual growth and self-development. To keep reading books on bettering myself and my life, and to continue striving toward my dreams.

6. To enjoy life. Just the other day I said to Hubbie, "I want to enjoy our city; go out for coffee, walk through parks, just go out." It doesn't have to break the bank. Often the simplest things are the most rewarding. Taking a walk along the beach; eating an ice cream; sitting on a park bench. I want to observe, absorb, feel and create. I want to feel the sun on my face, be a part of life, experience all that is to offer. I want to live every day of my life. Because that's what we're here to do.


So, those are my dreams for the coming year. And being in the frame of mind that I am, I think I will do quite well (just between you and me:))

Remember: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Happy new year, Happy New Decade :-D

Bubble and Squeak

Bubble and squeak is a term I came across a few months back, when browsing through some recipe books. As arrogant as this next bit might make me sound, to my surprise (and slight disgust) I discovered it was a term, rather a recipe whereby you used leftover vegies from another meal to make a 'new' meal, perhaps using eggs or something similar to combine it all together.


I think I was more disgusted at the name given to the recipe, rather than the ingredients used or the recycling of the food itself. No one eats leftovers more than Hubbie and I, so I can't say 'boo' to re-using food at all. But the name, bubble and squeak....... I don't know, what about the recipe, inspired the name Bubble and Squeak? What, about the food, makes it bubble.... and squeak...? Shudder at the thought.

However, this odd food terminology has sprung to mind in thinking about what indeed I should write about. So many odd, random, good and bad things have occurred of late, that I don't really know what to focus my writing attention on.

And this is how bubble and squeak came to mind. Apparently, the bubble and squeak is all the things that have happened lately, and the egg jelling it all together is my life.

Egg is my life. LOL.

And so the following minor stories, observations and episodic details of my life may come at you rather randomly, much like pieces of day-old carrot and peas in a mouthful of distastefully named 'bubble and squeak.'

(I'm only guessing at how it may taste). All this in an effort to bring you up to speed on my life, and also to bring me up to speed in my own life and help me to review it in progress, in what is herein going to be referred to as the 'bubble and squeak' post.

So be warned. I have NOT been taking notes.



When it comes to the good, versus the bad, unfortunately it's the bad that first springs to mind. However that only means that I have all good to end with :)



Mouth absolutely boiled me to my core, once again, on a few occasions. It becomes very hard when you have to deal with a person such as this. Even harder when it's someone in the family who you just can't avoid, unless of course you disown them, which I couldn't do without hurting many people I care about.

I get into this cycle with her. She shits me up the wall > I get upset, broody and moody and keep it all in trying to work it out in my head > it culminates in me practically exploding to Hubbie in anger and tears > after 3 days of wallowing we work out that A) I need to partially ignore her, and B) actually speak my mind and tell her when she is annoying me, in order to avoid the fantasy fights I create of her and I later on in my mind, that eventually drive me crraaaaazzzzzyyyyyyy.

So although we have danced this exact dance many times, I actually need to put the mentioned A and B acts to practice, and follow through. Otherwise nothing will ever change. Only my attitude in how to deal with her will actually change anything for me, because as we all know, an old dog will not learn any new tricks.



Lately I have been sick. Last Thursday, I barely made it into work, the only motivators being that my boss was away and I had extra stuff to do, and also, it was my last day before 3 days off. I made it in, barely could keep myself sitting straight up at my desk just long enough to do what I had to do, and left half way through the day. It was just so unbearable. Not only had I gone through a very sleepless and interrupted nights sleep, waking up what seemed like a zillion times and saying to myself "get up it's time to go to work," when in fact I still had hours to sleep, but my muscles were absolutely aching in agony. I was sooooo sore, every part of me hurt, which made me just want to curl up on my couch at home and sleep. Which I ended up doing.



It was the culmination of what had been a huge October. I don't know who else received it, but I got it a few times, both via sms and email, the chain letter about this recent October having 5 Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays? Yes and then it annoyingly tells you you must keep it going, according to the far-reaching distant natives of the land Makirouchidoo or some other tribal sounding country in order to keep the luck going, UNLESS YOU WANT TO DIE. Well it might as well say that, with all the suggestive terminology making you want to send it or else meet some horrible fate. And so I did send it, and due to sending it several times during the month, it occurred to me that hey, this has been a LONG month.

And then I reminisced.

The month began with that awesome grand final win in which the Mighty Magpies brought the cup home! Finally! That had been a big weekend.

We had had my friends over, my close group, which in total added up to 8 of us, for dinner. That was a big night. There was food, there was drink, there were MANY cupcakes. And it was an awesome night.

We had ALL my cousins over. Yes, that drunk post, that was the aftermath. Needless to say I got a little-iddy-bit tipsydrunk, therefore placing the indicator of party success at HIGH.

In between we had side nights (of which I mean people over but not huge to the point of party-status-phere) where my sister came over, and Hubbie's friends. We had a wedding, we had people arriving at the airport from overseas trips. And then the month ended with Hubbie's big birthday bash, where once again we proved we could throw awesome parties and still have fun while doing all the work:)

I think I wore myself out to the disgusting point where 5 days after the last October party, my body started to shut down. It said "screw you, I'm taking leave," leaving the rest of me pathetically screaming "No! Come back damn you!"

And so the muscle aches set in, only after the sore throat and intense sneezing commenced. The flu symptoms were persistent again in days 2 and 3, where again I felt intense fatigue (due to my body running away no doubt) and cleaning the house probably didn't help me much, but hey what else was I supposed to do at home? Yeah I know I know, I could've sat in front of the telly all day. But that would have worked against my whole effective/efficient habit that I haven't been able to kick for the past 9 years.

And so today, a week after my first flu symptoms popped up, I'm still left with a consistent, grating, unrelenting cough. It is really so inconvenient. It's gone from worse, after the weekend of drinking champagne and other home-made apparently 'healing' concoctions, to just annoying now, where I still have to cough every so often - cough cough cough - excuse me, unlike this morning where I felt like I was just hacking up flem.

So all in all, it's getting better.

There was also this little moment late last week, a predecessor before the whole 'sick' thing started.... I had this interesting moment at work with a fellow colleague of mine, that totally bew me out of the water, catching me off guard completely. And it was all to do with cake.

All over some bloody cake.

In true Miss S form, I had decided to bring in to work leftover cake from Hubbie's birthday. I knew there were a few people, who would REALLY appreciate the free cake and all, and having had a huge month that was filled with way too much cakes and cupcakes and just everything sweet, early on I decided that getting rid of the mass amount we still had from Hubbie's birthday would be the right way to go.

And so in I brought it. And as I was finishing off my early shift that day, I happened across a work colleague of mine, who we shall call Kitty. Hmmm :)

She was just starting her shift, and so my intention was to let her know of the few leftover cakes there were near my desk, so she could spread the word to our other fellow workers starting later on that day as well.

As soon as I started the words "Kitty, just so you know there's some cakes over th-"

"No! Don't talk to me about cake!"

And so it began. In a very direct, firm way, she told me:

1. that she was not going to eat any cake

2. people in our work area should not be encouraged to eat cake

3. she wouldn't be responsible for making people eat cake ..............AND

4. if cake was left over, she ALSO wouldn't be responsible for getting rid of it.



What the?! All I mentioned was cake. I was a bit stunned, a bit miffed, and seeing as my sneezing had been accelerating that day, more than sensitive enough, so I was hurt. I felt like she was attacking me, personally, just for bringing in cake.

And all I was doing was trying to be nice. It was about then that another fellow colleague arrived, and I told him quite matter-of-factly that there was cake and that at least HE would appreciate it. I sort of ended the conversation by walking off, without a real proper goodbye to her.

I was really hurt by it all. I pondered it on the way home. I know she had been trying to lose a bit of excess weight that she had gained over the past year (not that she was overweight). I thought of other times that I had brought in cake, and asked myself if I had been pushy in getting people to eat the cake in order to rid myself of it. I wasn't quite sure, but I knew that then, in that moment and in that day, I had merely mentioned it, before getting a barrage of cake-hate spewing out at me.

I spoke to Hubbie about it that night, and even he thought the remarks I'd received were unwarranted and odd. I guess I felt a bit worse, as it's always a little sad when someone you normally like and get along with gives you grief. You wonder 'why' and think of where you have gone wrong. I did just that, and only ended up making myself feel MORE sadder...

Anyways, the next day, arriving at work, I saw an email from her titled 'cakes...'

Part of me had been expecting an email addressing the whole cake issue, so I was not surprised.



Miss S,


Below an email generated in an effort to try to make up for my not wanting cake comments - which came out much harsher than I meant. So sorry about that - I know it's meant in the kindest spirit....


So if they guys don't eat them - I can't say I didn't try!


Kitty



OMG. I always knew the power of Miss S was huge. I've worked in customer service and have gotten a rotten customer to apologise to me for her bitchiness without even trying. I've had my Dad, one of the most stubborn of people, say sorry to me. And he doesn't say sorry or admit to his failures. EVER. I remember Pez, my ex-best friend, calling me up and crying over the phone, saying sorry to just hanging up on me after a stupid fight.

And now this. A woman 10 years my senior, with tonnes more life and work experience, sending me an email to apologise for yelling at me about cakes. (ok not yelling but it sounds better than just 'being firm')

I'm sorry but WOAH. That's big. Of her. To be sorry is one thing, bu to say it out loud to the person you upset in the first place, is a totally different, very rare thing. So I totally applaud her for that.

Following her email to me was the message she had sent to the rest of our department, letting them know, in so many words "cake is here..... eat or else!" So she helped me with my cake distribution, and that, along with admitting her overzealousness in cake-hating, means we are now friends again:)



I have been good in the pursuit of writing my story. I find that when I just start to jot down and write random plot ideas, character traits and story outlines that I am further inspired and motivated to do more research and develop my dream of writing professionally even more. A few nights I have found myself just doodling quite casually, and the following day I find I have the characters and the potential things they could get up to just running around and around in my head. I'm happy with the fact that it stays in my head, because it's sort of confirmation that what I'm thinking is not only interesting, but addictive and worthy, because if it weren't so, I tell ya it wouldn't last long in my over-imaginative mind. I still plan on eventually (whenever I actually finish my first book, after the actuality of beginning to write it) getting Hubbie, Sis and Red to read it and to tell me what their honest, honest, honest opinions on it are. I will ask them to be brutal, and then I think I will run away and hide. Something about getting someone so close to you to critique your work, actually fills me with a sick, sick feeling, and no not the kind that is cough-inducing. More the type that will churn your stomach contents and force them in a vertical motion. Hell, even when I see that people have read my blog, I freak out slightly, and that's people I don't know, with no critical response whatsoever!



But baby steps. All little baby steps. All in the right direction.



Speaking of baby steps. Had a massive, major, incredible !!lightbulb!! moment a few nights ago with Hubbie, Sis and her Hub. It is actually so incredible and major, that if this thing were to eventuate, it could change all of our lives, I believe MAJORLY. But because it is so big, we aren't actually letting people know of our "idea" until hopefully the day that it is fully under way and in full practice. No, sorry I can't even let my imaginary blogger-verse know about it. All off-limits. But I just had to say, it is AMAZING. Funny how something can be under your nose, in your face for so many years, and you just don't know that the opportunity has been staring you in the face the whole time. I think that is called TIMING.



And in more recent fantastic news, I have been shopping. Ahhhhh, how sweet the pursuit of clothes via monetary means and the accumulation of said-clothes can be.

Sweeeetttt.

Yesterday I purchased a very fine jacket. It was during some morning-afternoon shopping before my work shift, and Hubbie and I had just had enough. We were talking about clothes we had, clothes we usually went for, and the clothes that we should go for.

And we made a deal. No longer were we going to go for the safe, normal option. We weren't going to just buy, in my case, more plain tops, black dresses and ballet shoes, or in his case, more chequered shirts and blue polo tops. We were gonna go a bit wild, edgy, and start playing it up. We had decided, and we were sick of it!

Gosh just thinking of our new-found pact, and of all the clothes I could have if I had become shopping-smarter, sooner, just gives me even more AMMO to shop. You see, by always going for the 'safe' shopping option, you end up with a wardrobe that is not only identical, but that lacks creativity. By choosing items of clothing that will go the distance over the coming seasons, you end up lacking the current individuality that you so deserve.

Pieces of clothing can be wild and outrageous, and go the distance, if chosen correctly. I think of the alternative style of dwellers living in the edgy parts of outer-city Melbourne, and I highly doubt that they purchase with the aim of getting the most years out of their clothes, yet they still manage to do so. And still look good in seasons to come. Certainly I don't plan on moving to those suburbs, but the thought of a wild, indy-style wardrobe, with 50s style dresses, hippie skirts, bright colours and edgy alternative cuts of clothing, is greatly appealing to me right now. And what excites me more than anything (perhaps level with the accumulation of clothes though!) is the idea that if it is different, we will not look at the price of an item, we will just buy it.

Let's put that in simpler terms. If something is different = BUY!$!$!

I know! How incredibly monetar-ily free-ing is that idea! Of buying whatever as long as it's DIFFERENT! And Hubbie came up with that idea too. I know I married him for a reason :-D
It's not so easy just to want to do something. You have to also delete all the pre-wired talk in your mind, reset your shopping habits and think outside the square if you're going to start doing things differently. For example this morning, when Hubbie and I were shopping (yet again, we're on a roll) at before-mentioned outer-city suburb, I was in this full bohemian-hippy shop, which had A LOT of dresses. I came across a black and white one with a lot of ruffles near the neck line. It is a gorgeous dress, not too extreme, but even so, when I tried it on, I loved it but was still going "oh, I don't know, it has A LOT of ruffles at the front!"
You see, the old Miss S would have said "those ruffles won't help me move from season to season, year to year." But the new one, asked Hubbie for confidence, pushed through the doubt and went "you know what? I look great in this! I'll buy it!"
Now that I'm thinking differently about my clothes shopping selections and habits, I feel as if I'm a slightly different person, like I'm looking at life all differently. I can even imagine myself in one of the two dresses I bought today, (!) wearing a huge oversized straw hat and swinging from a hammock, with the current song "Something in the Water," playing in the background. Weird. I don't even own a hammock.

It's just inspiring, and so good to know, that not only with clothes, but all decisions in life, all paths taken, roads chosen, any change of direction is just a mind-set away. If you want to make the change, you can, and WILL. It's so easy. You just say "I'm going to look for a new job," "I'm getting a totally new haircut," or in my case "I'm changing my clothing style." It is so uninhibiting to realise you can do whatever you want to in life. As long as you want to.

Now that I've given you my daily awe-inspiring motivational life-quote, concluding tonights mammoth blog post (it started at work and is now ending after midnight at home) I will leave you with this thought for the night:

Everyone knows what eggs are. Eggs are eggs. But what you do with your egg will make a difference. Will you boil, poach or fry? Will you add spices and bacon, spinach and cheese, or place it on toast? What about the quality of your egg? Will it be free-range and wholesome? Grain-fed?
What you make of your very ordinary-seeming egg, will make the rest of your morning. Just as your decisions, will make your seemingly ordinary life, extraordinary.


(Definition to metaphor provided for clarity and due to lateness of post)

Great, thanks

So I did have a truly awesome birthday celebration in true Miss S extravaganza style. Sorry I should say celebrations.




I think my new age has brought with it a little bit more maturity. Although there were things that happened over my birthday weekend that would have normally upset me, that would have made me focus and concentrate on pesky miniscule non-issues, instead I've been trying, somewhat successfully, to let it all go, and just relax.



For example, my Friday night out. It only ended up being 7 of us in total. Despite several work friends saying they were coming, and despite my cousins Legs and Hair promising they would be there, as well as some other friends, none of the above mentioned came: work duties prevailed, tiredness, soreness and general lack of motivation. The 15-ish number I expected to come, halved.

I made a split decision in that moment on Friday night. Receiving those regretful messages on my mobile I thought "this is the moment that will create the rest of my night.... how will I respond to it?"

After a tiny bit of "ohhhhh" and disappointment, I decided to let it all go and focus on having an awesome night. And I did!

Similarly, when 2 of our closest friends couldn't make it to my house party on Saturday night, I did revert back to whingy, whiny unhappy 2-year-old tantrum Miss S: "But I don't want them to be sick! Why are they sick??"

But again, I put on my positive mask, and really, with the 20-odd people I had there that night, it really wasn't that bad losing 2, as we had our hands tied with everyone else. And it meant that our friends who missed it came by last night (resulting in a very late night I might add, yawn!) prolonging my birthday celebrations even FURTHER!

See, positive, positive? LOL.

It's so easy. So easy to just fall into that negative downward spiral. Especially when in the past year I've had people in my close circle of family and friends disappoint me in various ways. The best thing that has happened to me of late is the talk I had with my mum and my sister. I'm thinking of the words that my sister said to me, telling me that she's seen me so angry and negative, so tense and mad, and thought to herself that that's not me. I'd let myself turn into a person I'm not.

So now I'm focusing on the good, ol' Miss S.

Yes, I could choose to be upset about my cousins promising to come to my party, and then not following through. Rather than be upset, I should focus on the reasons why, and realise that no human is a superbeing. No one person can do everything at the same time, and expect to be everywhere at once. Their intention was there, despite their failing to show. And if I feel that I'm not as close to them as I used to be (and I do really feel that), well I should look at myself. I should look at what I can do for them, to show them I care. Which I will endeavour to do over the coming months.

As for work friends...... well, that's just the way it is. And although I didn't know how I was going to come back to work today after my week off, and whether or not I'd drop a comment like "no one from work came," when I came in, I saw that they actually looked like they cared about me! I mean my boss was really nice, all sorry about missing the night out, others were actively asking me about my birthday and my time off, I even had a birthday card on my desk from one of them, apologies from another...... and you know what? I thought to myself, if I had been in their position, of being invited to one of their parties with the probability that I may be the only one there amongst work friends.... I wouldn't have gone either.

I've come to the conclusion, that with work colleagues, it's fine to not see each other outside of work. As long as we're nice whilst at work, well I think that's all that really matters. We do get along. We just have different interests and friends outside of work, which makes perfect, complete sense. And I'm okay with that.

I think the whole key here, is when faced with such a problem, whether with a family member, close friend, or work colleague, whatever a person may be to you, is to ask yourself:

"what would I do in their position?"

"what can I do in our relationship to make this better?"



and most importantly, to not look at any issue in the upmost negative light. Rather than jumping the gun and going straight to the worst possible scenario, think of the more probable one.

If someone doesn't come to your party, it's not because they hate you; maybe they got tied up. Maybe they're tired. On the other side of town. They have a sore back. They don't wanna come alone. Explanations like that are so much more easier to deal with, for mind, body and spirit.

I think the worst thing is to feel like you're entitled, like you're owed something. No one owes you anything. You will only get things from putting work into it. And unless you look at what you can do, all you will continue to get is the same negative feelings of "why didn't they/couldn't they/wouldn't they...."

your WHOLE life.

When I think about it (yes I am thinking A LOT lately) the 7 people I had on Friday night, coupled with the 20 on Saturday.... that's 27 people. 27 people who care for me, love me, and made the time and effort to see me for my birthday.

That's a lot. What are the statistics, something like having only 2 or 3 real friends in your whole life? I compare that with all the people I've seen this last weekend, and including our awesome buddies last night, and I can't help but smile. My statistics are awesome. Quality not quantity, remember?



There. Now I'm done with my little Dr Phil spiel. I think I'll go now and make some light-hearted convo with my work buddies.....

The Surprise in Me

Have you ever wondered to yourself, if you belong here?


I guess the answer to that might be along the lines of, "what do you define as 'here'?"


These funny thoughts of mine came as a result of Friday night. In the midst of my work marathon (BTW, 8-2 today!) I went out for some work drinks as part of a catch up we had organised with a former work colleague who is recently back in the country. I know, I know, I said my weekend would be void of any drinking, but in defence, I had ONE drink, over the space of 2 hours, and I didn't really enjoy myself. Hence this post.


I was there with only 2 other work people, not including the 'special guest' of the evening being our former work pal, and it was a mildly ok night. However by the end of it, driving home, there was just one continuous thought that could not escape my mind. I don't belong there.


When I first started work at my current employer, the change hit me like a tonne of bricks. I really felt the difference, and I mainly attributed it to ethnic background. All the employers I'd previously worked for had some sort of distinguishable ethnic/cultural background, of which I could easily relate to, due to my own ethnic background. By distinguishable, I mean having a second language, or perhaps living as a second generation Australian, where you still partake in and are an somewhat active participant when it comes to events derived from your parents cultural roots.


And without stereotyping, these sort of people, of who I am clearly a part of, well we are different to the 'others.' We are actively interested in each others lives, we are considerate, and of course the obvious, we have very similar upbringings, having more often than not lived with our parents until marriage, having large families, and a HUGE circle of friends.


Most of the people that work here, are mainly without any cultural associations or have any close ancestral roots. They don't think much of religion, family, and live a fairly wild life. Although I myself am not a preacher, I still firmly believe in a certain kind of religion, and so I have Faith. And at the same time I am a very open believer. I like to see the way different people live, I am open to new things, and I definitely do not judge others. So, although the change was definitely felt, I didn't neccessarily have a freak out about my new surroundings.


It was a very hard first few months. You could even say a hard first year. I found it hard to fit in amongst the very clique-y groups. No one really made an effort with me. I was more used to being babied and catered to when it came to new surroundings. But here I realised that wasn't going to happen. If you didn't talk about your weekend, no one was going to ask. If you didn't try and make friends, no one was going to go out of their way to say hello to you. It was a very fend-for-yourself environment. I am not naturally the loudest person, especially in new situations. And although I'd been building my self-esteem and confidence throughout the years following uni, I still had a long way to go, especially when confronted with what was at work.


However, in time, things sort of fell into place. I think it was both parties coming together at once: I became a bit more foward, and others became a bit more considerate. And I started to realise that the people around here were really pretty good. And they were a lot like me, just trying to get by day to day, fit in, yet have fun. We may all be from different places, but essentially, we all have the same kind of story.


When I'm talking one-on-one with one of my work colleagues, or even if there's a group of us, it's really quite good. We talk, have fun, joke and muck around. As is normal in small teams/departments, you get to really know one other and start to develop your own inside jokes. I really do enjoy the job, I enjoy them, and there are days when something that has been bothering me in my personal non-related work life, just fades away when I'm at work, because things are so easy.


Despite all this, I've noticed more often than not, that when we are all in a social situation, such as having after work drinks, or a colleagues birthday party, that I see the many differences between us all too easily. Perhaps I should re-phrase that. I see all the differences between me and them, all too easily. I used to think that it was just me, and that I needed to speak up more, be more interactive with the group. But knowing how much more confident I am in the workplace now, I really don't believe that to be the case. It's just a case of personality difference.


Either they will bring up a music group, or a song I don't know of. They'll talk about a party they went to, where they had soooooo much fun. A party that I didn't go to, but not because I hadn't been invited; I just didn't feel comfortable, what with their bonging, and smoking behaviour. They'll talk about past friends, past parties. They talk about future gatherings, seedy pubs and bars where they hang out. I know the picture I'm painting of them isn't the nicest, but I did say wild.


And meanwhile I just sit there, smiling, nodding, trying to think of something to say, when I really can't contribute ANYTHING. Because what can I say when I don't like/are a part of/have experienced anything they are saying???

Then when they do start talking about something I can contribute to, by that stage I'm seriously over it. I've started to invert into my shell, I just smile, and nod, and laugh at regular intervals, but I really just want to go home. Which I do end up doing sooner rather than later. I know that they don't do it on purpose, they don't deliberately shut me out. They are just speaking, as a group, so therefore they share their group likes and interests.


So it ends up being a me:them thing. I feel so out of place, so not in my zone, that I can't help being sad. There is nothing I can do, and there is nothing to do, because it's just them being them, and me being me. We're all just being ourselves, which is the most frustrating thing of all.


And it's not that I necessarily hate the difference of interests/likes, the comparison of lifestyles. What I hate is that when they become them, I turn into myself, and go backwards. Instead of opening up and being sure of myself, I become just the opposite. Shy, insecure and nervous. And the fact that they are viewing me as that, well, to them I become that. To them I become shy, insecure and nervous. But I'm not that. To be perceived in that way, is the hardest thing.


I hate it.


And I think that's one of the reasons why I love surprising people so much when it comes to my personality. They think they know me, and BANG!..... they don't.


One of my all-time favourite compliments, is when someone says to me or to someone else "What? Miss S did/said that?"


I love it:)


My earliest memory of ever such a thing, was when I was 16. I had decided during the summer, inspired by Dawson Leery of His-name Creek fame, that I was going to make a documentary of my friends and I over the summer. It was going to be about the transitional period of our lives at that moment, what with growing up, merging into V.C.E, and starting to make future choices for ourselves. It was also going to be biographical, in discovering all of our likes, dislikes, catfights, objects of affection, and most importantly, our friendships with one another.

One thing I did, was when we were in a group environment one day, I got everyone to speak about one person, one of the girls in our group, so that not only we could share our experiences about that person, but so that the person would also get a sense of what they meant to us and how they were perceived. It was perhaps one of the most fun, enlightening and heart-warming things we ever did as a group, as every person that day went home feeling light, happy and loved. I remember my bit, obviously because I edited it old-school way but also because I have it on VCR (!), but my friends cried out "hey! we need to do it on Miss S!"


And so it began, they started listing all my qualities, personality traits. And one of the girls there, said "Miss S is mysterious. You think you know her and then she goes and does something totally unexpected!" They all agreed, talking about times when they'd heard I'd done or said something, the surprising news always ending with "What? Miss S did that??!!"

My best friend, Red, said then "Yes, but that's what she loves. She wants to be mysterious."

Ahhh yes. And that's why Red is still my best friend.


I've never forgotten that moment. Just a fleeting, passing conversation, but it has always stuck in my head. It struck a chord with me, because it was the moment that I myself realised, that what my other friend had said then was true. I was mysterious. And as Red had added, I liked it.


Funnily enough, the friend who actually brought it up, well we're not friends anymore, we had a falling out soon after. But she will always have this weird, unexplained place in my heart, because of what she said. It remains one of my most favourite compliments ever.


And similarly, only a week ago, I had a stressed out work moment. I was working on something, and once I had almost finished I realised that my initial calculations about my project were wrong. It was the end of the day, I had wanted to finish more work, but now all I wanted to do was go home. And I was going to go home unhappy because I hadn't achieved what I'd wanted to for the day. Well, I decided to look at it fresh the next day, but not before leaving a passing goodbye for the wretched thing. I left a comment along the lines of "F*#^ing giving up!"


The next day when I came in, my overnight suspicions had come true: my boss had seen my comment. Luckily enough she was cruisy about it, we had a laugh, and after I assured her that no, I didn't need anyone else to finish it, I just needed the overnight break, I went on with my work. When I spoke about the funny incident to a work colleague, she was laughing, saying that our boss had actually brought it up with her, and had made the comment "Miss S wrote this! I couldn't believe it when I saw it!"


We laughed some more, but even later on I had a small smile that played on my lips, as I realised my great joy at having someone be surprised by my actions. Knowing that they didn't know me as much as they think they did, and therefore, I wasn't the person, the shy, insecure and nervous person that they thought I was, brought me great satisfaction.


And that's what it comes down to I think. Yes, I like portraying myself as a mysterious person. For a fact, I know that people can't get to know me, until I let them. When I'm with MY people, I am Miss S. Confident, talkative, friendly, funny and cheeky all in one. But when I'm not in my zone, I feel out of place, and that's when unfortunately, I revert to bad habits. I become who I'm not, and when others perceive me as something that I definitely am not, that's when it hurts. Because I'm so much more than the protective outer shell I put on display.


So when people who think they know me, discover a crack in my hard case, and suddenly a bright shining light filters through, they get a glimpse of who I am...... and that's when I get happy.


I want to be seen as me. As the true shining person I am.


As essentially, basically and deeply,

as naturally, magnificently and truly,

as only,

always, Miss S.

M.I.A: A Poem

In light of the fact that I have been totally absent from blogging for what seems like forever, rather than chronicle the exciting and fantastic adventures of my everyday life in an effort to update the blog world, I decided to compose a poem.




Ahem.



The biggest news I have to share

Would be about our latest dare

We bought a block of land you see

A house to build upon will be



My Swedish friend came back to visit

(Odd to visit her home don't you think?)

Nonetheless we all had fun

And back in December she will come



Another friend of mine did wed

For 8 years now a life they'd shared

The day was great! we talked, laughed and danced

And took stupid photos 'til we pissed our pants



My cousin came from overseas

And I took her out to a Hens Night Party

We had good times, took heaps of shots

(Both alcoholic and photo sorts!)



On the work front, it has been flat out

Since our boss here decided to depart

But having returned from her South African cruise

All our worries have gone, and our blues



As for my dear cousin Legs' days

She's still planning her matrimonial ways

And she has been asking me for advice

To which I think it is really nice :)



My Bestie's boy, Wine we call him

some days are good, some are a whim

It's up and down, but generally I believe,

all of us are different - so accept it, PLEASE!



My overseas bestie is planning her return

A visit only (I know, I know)

Her sister is going through a pregnancy

And a doting aunty my friend will be!



We've had an invasion of disgusting pests

Portugese Millipedes - ugh (are they migrants?)

They come into the house and slide upon our floors

And we just pick them up and hurl them outdoors



A revelation it seems 'bout Ricky Martin

He prefers men - have I been dim?

My love for his music has kept me biased

But now I must accept his truth, not deny it



Speaking of which, went to see George!

Michael that is, of Wham! days - and oh Lord

He is a true talent, genius and a star

A musical legend he is by FAR



Some sad news of late from overseas

A cousin of mine met his fate unfortunately

He died before his time, a shock for all

But when you rise too fast, eventually you must fall



Still Twilight-ing, Eclipse I have read

Starting Breaking Dawn soon - and yes I do care

These books are addictive, they make me mad!

More often than not, I go from happy to sad



A positive spin on things I try to do

It keeps me sane and feeling brand new

It's important to focus on life's good things

Like love, health and happiness, and all else that it brings.




I think that sums up the last few months perfectly. At the time I felt there was really no way I could write a blog that measured up to the immensity of information and emotion of my last blog, regarding Richard Carlson's death. But time helps you think, move on, and think of things in perspective.

So, I re-introduce myself to you, as Miss S :)

WOW. What a weekend/s, what a week/s - Part 2 of my Marathon

Friday morning I had instructions. Before work I was to get half a piece of bread, make it soggy with water and then break it up into little-itty-bitty pieces so that the little-itty-bitty bird could eat it.
I was shitty because firstly, I had to do this. Why couldn't Hubbie do this, he found the bird? I'm almost late to work everyday as it is, let alone having a bird I needed to feed.
His excuse was it's still dark when he gets up. Yes, but.... hmph.
So, I did my bit. And I must admit, when I walked into the shed, and tentatively peeked into the beer box, through the old bbq rack, and saw this cute, so so so small bird staring up at me, my heart melted. It was standing, just staring up, quite unaware of all the trauma we were feeling because of it.
It was soooo sweet. I started crumbing up bits of soggy bread, dropping it through the bbq rack steel slats, and they just dropped around the bird. The bird didn't flinch, it just kept looking at me, it didn't even look down at what I had just dropped. Although I crumbed up the whole piece, I realised this bird was probably looking at me as a substitute for its mother, and expecting me to put the food directly in its mouth. After trying to aim the bread INTO its mouth, unsuccessfully, I whispered some words of eating encouragement to the little one ( I was growing quite fond of it now ) and left.
I had an appointment to get my hair cut and coloured that day after work, so I went there straight after without going home. Before I walked in, I called Hubbie to find out what had happened with the bird when he got home.
I was so surprised, both happy surprised and sad surprised, when he told me he had taken the bird to the local vet, so that they could feed it properly to eventually release it. Happy because this poor bird was finally gonna get some decent help, but sad because in that short amount of time, I felt like I needed to say goodbye to it first before it continued on its journey. Weird, huh?
But I was glad, glad that our efforts had paid off, and that this bird which would have otherwise been eaten by a neighbourhood cat, was getting a second chance at life. Albeit without its little family of birds, but better a life alone than death....
When I got home, more good news. Hubbie had left the fridge in its place, but now the bins were outside in the backyard again. Although we couldn't take them out through the garage anymore, we could just roll them through the house. A little price to pay to make everyone happy.
I had to wait for my U.S pal to stop by to drop off some stuff, and once she had, I rushed to the shops to FINALLY do my massive grocery shop. In my heels, I ran through the store, trolley flying in front of me, and managed to get everything in about 30 minutes. There was no checking for prices or brands, I was just randomly grabbing whatever it was I needed with no usual grocery shopping deliberation about which brand is better and/or cheaper. The store closed and I was on my happy way.
I managed to make my cookie batch that night, and then there was still heaps to do awaiting me the next day.
In summary, Saturday was spent going to the shops, making a lasagna ( and this is a lasagna! ) cleaning the ENTIRE house and getting myself ready for the wedding we had that night, my U.S bestie's sister. It may not sound like much but let me tell you, I barely had time to eat. And all this preparation, for my Hubbie's birthday the next day, where we were having both his and mine immediate families over for lunch, plus some close friends. And Hubbie and I don't do things in halves.
By Saturday night, as excited as I was about having a great night out with my friends, I was spent, and having a glass of red didn't help the cause either.
By the time I got to sleep at 1.30am, I was so tired, not just from that day, but from knowing what would await me the next day, and how much I still had to do.
7.00am I got up, it was painful, really. I'd set my alarm for 6.30am, but I just couldn't get myself up. I trudged out of bed and made my way to my tasks ahead.
Which included: making a cake, preparing the tables, making various salads and other foods and just a whole lot of preparation. If Hubbie hadn't gotten up and helped me out, I'd have been screwed.
Ha ha. The irony of that.
The day went fine, busy but fine. I barely had a chance to sit down, other than when I ate, and after when the cake had been cut and we'd sung happy birthday. I'd actually been finishing the cake throughout the day, so you can see how busy the day had been. The cake was a white chocolate cheesecake and it was a definite success! Everyone loved it, especially Hubbie, which is what mattered most :)
On top of everything that day, my friends came over that night, mainly because my U.S pal was now heading back to the States the next morning, so it was our last little get together.
Thank goodness I'd taken the Monday off. I had a surprise for Hubbie, I'd organised a Crime Tour of our city, after some lunch, and the tour alone took about 3 hours. It was nice, if not just to see our city through new, refreshed eyes.
That night our folks came over to help us eat the leftovers, and then more friends came by later on. It was fun, but the busy-ness was starting to look never-ending to me.
I thought the next night was gonna be quiet, but we ended up out to dinner with some OTHER friends, and then they came over for drinks. Sigh.
FINALLY my break came on Wednesday night. Once I'd finished my nightly duties, I think I just sat on the couch (actually I LAY down) and watched eps of The Bold and the Beautiful that I'd taped. And it felt sooooo good.
Although the previous week/s had been fun, because they had involved our close family, close friends and fun celebrations, I was still so wrecked by it all. As much as I love them all, I was so glad for it to be over. That following weekend we still had some stuff on, but this time it was different, because I didn't have to cook everything and clean the whole house in preparation! We were going out, which was easier....
We had dinner out Saturday night with Hubbie's boss and his wife (boss had gotten a bonus, so we were benefiting from it!) and Sunday night was another wedding.
A public holiday came during the week, and usually on a day like that where I would encourage Hubbie and I to do something with friends, you know what it was that I wanted? All I wanted was "peace and quiet." As my 7-year-old nephew says to his parents when they have a hectic weekend going everywhere, and all he wants to do is stay home and play with his toys. I just wanted to stay at home, and relax.
Which is what you need. Sometimes you need it. Nothingness can be so good.
We won't mind the story about the back-door neighbours stupid dog that dug underneath our fence to make it into our backyard and ruin the small vegie patch we had going. That's a stupid incident we won't indulge in here, because here and now, it's all well, and it's all good.
The weekend ahead looks promising. The forecast says the sun will be shining, there are blue skies ahead, and good times look like a definite. With weather like that, I think I'm ready to get busy again :)

Truth and Jealousy

I've been feeling a bit peeved off lately concerning work. There's this one little thing that's irritated me since last Friday, and now I can't stop thinking about it.
I had a conversation with a 'superior' of mine last week, there were a few others there though, so it was during a group coffee break when it happened.
One of them asked the rest of us whether we were going to a fellow colleague of ours birthday the following weekend. That fellow colleague wasn't there during the time. I didn't really hear the question because he sort of mumbled it, so when he looked at me, I asked what he'd said.
He repeated "you going to ........ birthday?"
I paused because then I realised what he was saying, and remembering that I was busy that night, replied "Oh! I have a wedding that night."
The guy joked and made some sort of comment about my ridiculously busy schedule, to which my superior added, jokingly, "Oh, excuses excuses."
Hee hee hee.
I just sort of laughed it off, and I think the conversation changed to something else. But something about it stuck with me.
That night at home I told Hubbie. He's met my superior, so he could imagine the person saying it. He may not know the person well, but he's a very good judge of character.
He told me that yes, he could imagine this person saying that. Having met this person, he could see how they would say something, in a friendly, joking way, but deep within be believing of that comment, that it was not a joke but in fact the truth.
So I was right. My superior didn't believe me. Believed that I was making up an excuse to not go to this colleague of ours birthday.
It really shitted me. And it still does. Yes, I know that every time we talk about our weekends, that my stories always include some dinner, birthday, christening, engagement, wedding or get together that I've had. I realise that normal people don't usually have a birthday and a christening on one day and then a bridal shower on the next. And I realise that my superior is probably secretly shitty because they went to my birthday and I didn't go to theirs, because of the birthday/christening day we had a few weeks back.
But you know what? Our family isn't normal. We don't have one cousin and a few uncles and aunties that we see twice a year for Christmas and Easter. We don't have family functions that include the whole family sitting on an extended stretched out table.
We have uncles and aunties that have several kids each, all of who have more kids of their own. We have our parents' cousins and family friends on top of all this. This isn't including our large group of friends, acquired through school, work and recreational activities. If you've worked in more than one place, like both Hubbie and I have, you can start to see how your group of friends suddenly becomes quite large.
If we invite everyone we know in our family to a social event, we need to hire out a RECEPTION. This is no exaggeration. We had under 400 people at our wedding. That tells you that we know a lot of people. And yes granted, a lot of those people are friends of the family that our parents had to invite only because they were once invited to their sons/daughters wedding 15 years earlier. But that's what our family is, that's what we do. The most distant relative will invite you to a function, and you're expected to do the same.
Add to that our friends, OUTSIDE of work, and you start to get a picture. Hubbie had this same issue a while back, where the guys he worked with stirred him and couldn't really believe how many functions he had, wedding after wedding, on the same weekend.
But if you think about it, what reason is there to lie? And if you were to lie, why would you make up some ridiculous excuse about having a wedding on a Saturday and then another wedding following on a Sunday? It's so far-fetched and ridiculous that it MUST be true.
We have a lot of people in our life, we are truly blessed. So, to someone that comes from a different background, with a smaller family, why should that be weird to them, why should they believe something other than the truth, why would they believe that I'm lying?
They believe this because they think I'm trying to get out of going to the work get together. Fair enough, I missed their birthday, now I'm missing this one....... it MUST mean that. Surely, you can't have that many functions, you can't have that many friends, you can't have more people in your life, and have more places to go to, and be more busy than me.........
Ahhhhhhhh. That is it. That is the answer. This person, if they wanted to, COULD believe me. If they wanted to. They COULD believe that it is possible to be that busy. But then it would mean accepting the truth that their life isn't as busy, filled with as much people and parties, as mine.
And that is the hard part to swallow. It's jealousy, as much as they don't want to admit it. Which makes me sad. I hate jealousy. I hate when I see it consuming people, little or a lot. It doesn't matter how much it is, because the end result is the same. Resentment.
So this person has disguised their jealousy and resentment with distrustfulness, because that is easier to accept. Rather than the truth. Which really peeves me off. Such a small comment, yet such a window into their mind and the way they think.
I'm a very honest person. So for someone to believe, and suggest even in a joking way, of me being manipulative and lying to get out of a situation, out of an event? Me, party person, always busy wanting to go out and do stuff?
Bull crap.
It soooooo gets to me. Like really truly. And I hate the way I'm now looking at my superior. I'm extra aware of our interactions, and just this morning when I looked up to say something, I saw them looking at me in an odd observational way. Sussing me out.
I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it. I can feel the jealousy and the scrutiny, and I need to set them straight, via my incredible subtle powers!
Because they're my superior, and I can't just come out and say it. Because of just that word. 'Superior.'
Annoying.
Sigh. Why are people so complicated?