The World According To Me

I'm booked in to see a psychic tomorrow.

I know, I know what you're thinking. She will just pitch generic predictions which could apply to everyone and then narrow it down based on my reactions….she'll give me the classic fairy stories so I leave happy and excited……whatever.

I saw a psychic for the first time about 3 and a half years ago, she came recommended from one of my most pragmatic friends and I had always wanted to go and have a reading, but was very wary of going to see some cliché in a tent. I was pleasantly surprised by how normal she was, but more importantly a lot of the things she told me were spookily accurate. I'm not going to disclose what she said or how those things have eventuated, you'll just have to take my word for it. But I will say they were specific. Very, very specific. Some of the things she told me have not eventuated, and I don't expect them to for quite a while, if at all. The only part of the reading I didn't understand was about who was looking over me because the description she gave of an old man with a huge nose and wearing brown cardi didn't ring true. Then again, only one member of my whole family (both sides) has passed since I have been alive and I honestly don't know what my family further back looked like.

I fear that this blog is repetitive. When I try and think of things to write about, I draw from my actual real day to day life and inevitably I conclude that my actual real day to day life is as boring as shit. This morning, I awoke to Esme perched on my chest and miaowing into my face. To me that's pretty funny, but you don't know my pets and you probably don't fund that amusing. On the weekend I got stoned a lot, but I also did that the weekend prior. I met the same interesting but ultimately unsuitable men at the pub that I meet most weekends. Nothing is new. I am bored. I had a conversation last night with V over vodka cans about what we'd do if we had penises (penii?). The general conclusion was that we would just put it in anything and everything we could, mainly inanimate objects. Now that amused me, but it isn't particularly blog-worthy. You've probably had the same discussion with your friends. Unless you're a bloke reading this, and then you've possibly just done it all already.

I want to feel excited and shiny and hopeful. I want to take risks. I don't want to crash. I want the most interesting thing to happen in my day be something other than the evening meal I had.

It's just gone 10.30am. I am quite convinced that I'm still a bit stoned. Okay, a lot stoned. I should not have had that last joint last night. I am usually fine the next day but clearly I have smoked too much over the weekend and it's all backed up in my system. At least, that's how I am imagining it.



I should not be at work.




Possibly until about Wednesday.




On Friday night I went to have a couple of drinks at the pub with some friends. You know, just a couple of happy hour bevvies before making my way back home to make dinner. After all, I was still in work clothes and had no make-up on.



At 2am I stumbled in the door. Angry. And quite pissed, obvs. I was angry because a bloke had struck up a conversation with me and I recall enjoying our discussion about helping disadvantaged people through our work (we had completely unrelated jobs otherwise) and how utterly righteous that was, etc (I was well into the vodka stage of the evening by then, clearly) and then he said he had to go because if he kept talking to me that "it would progress in a direction which he couldn't go". I swear to God there was no flirting or anything of that nature and besides, I HAD NO MAKE-UP ON and so I told him that what he had just said was utter rot. To which he put his hands on either side of my face and kissed me in what was not unlike something from the movies. Out of the blue.

I had no make-up on.

So then I told him that he'd just ruined everything and I got up and left. Walked home, muttering the whole way to myself about why blokes have to be ruiners of pretty much the entire world. Why was it impossible to actually have a conversation with someone that made sense and had some meaning, so far removed from all the other pissed up exchanges I'd had for the rest of the night? Why did he have to ruin that?

It's still making me cross.

I'm still bent.

And I will quite likely remove this post at some stage in the future.

1. A colleague of mine has announced that she is pregnant. With twins! I am so thrilled for her and her Husband and I cannot wait until March, when she is booked in to have them whisked out*.
2. Another lovely friend of mine is due to have her second child within a year, in February. That's right, TWO UNDER ONE. She's a barrister with a delightful house-husband so she figures she might as well keep poppin' em out** whilst she can and he can stay home and look after them while she earns the bacon. Clever girl.
3. I think I would like a baby of my own. Not right now, obvs. But one day before, my eggs dry up.
4. I need to find myself a Good Bloke.
5. Yes, I know I'm only 26 and that there's no hurry.
6. I had the most delicious Thai food last night and it made me happy. There is this new restaurant that has opened up in town and it's sort of in the industrial estate, hidden away. It opens about two nights a week and has one big table so you can only go there if you have 6 or more people and it is booked out until next year. Lord knows how we got in but it was a work thing. The owner taught us how to roll little portions of sticky rice in our hands and explained each dish to us and it really was fantastic.
7. V's fella (The Hippy) has been spending a lot of time hanging at our house. He is cool, and Lucy has taken to him like nothing I have ever seen before. She is usually a very timid pooch (possibly the understatement of the century) and takes absolutely ages to come around to someone, if ever. She generally takes less time with short people and children because (I presume) they are smaller and therefore less threatening. And generally, men never get a look in. With the Hippy, however, she becomes very excited when he arrives and nudges him for pats and cuddles all the time. It's exciting! He is very patient with her and gives her lots of time, which she just soaks up.
8. I have not returned to the gym yet. I haven't been put off by soreness but rather that I am lazy and have also been occupied doing other things (see No.6).
9. I am enjoying living with someone else much more than I expected. We are having a lot of fun and not getting in eachother's face too much. This is a far cry from the last time I lived with someone and I would lock myself in the bathroom and have long baths to try and have a moment of my own time. But then again, V & I are not in a relationship so it's quite different.
10. That's ten.

*I use this term clearly having no experience and very limited knowledge of childbirth either naturally or by Caesarean Section.
** See *

We may have a cake tonight made from Whiskas crunchy biscuits for kittens and cheese (her favourites), but probably not.

Grand-final weekend was spent either drinking my 'good' bottles of red wine or lighting up scoobies with V and the Hippy. I still cannot believe how much we ate. There is almost nothing edible left in the house aside from dry pasta and vegemite. The hours melted away in a haze and I am left with items in the 'messages sent' folder of my phone containing such exclamations as "I am surrounded by beautiful people and animals. How good is life?" and a lounge-room that looked like Kiss camped out in it for a week.

There's an explanation for the lounge-room. V and I concocted a variation of the "Stuff On My Cat" concept. When the Hippy took a little nap on the floor we took turns in balancing various household items on his prone figure.

"Stuff On My Hippy" progressed through hairbrushes, shoes, dvd cases, tissue boxes, a chocolate biscuit on his head (which was quickly removed, and eaten), pens, crockery, cutlery, a bottle of tomato sauce and was topped off with the cats' scratching pole before he stirred. Ruiner.

Nonetheless, it was a fun game for a while. Could have lasted 20 minutes but could also have lasted a number of hours. Who is to know?

And now I'm stuck at my desk and it's twenty-something degrees outside and this makes me a little sad. I'm shuffling papers from one side to another, completely uninspired.