What I Did Over My Summer Holidays - A recap of the last neglected weeks

No.More.Industry.

The last few hours of being shackled to my desk was such an exercise in patience. Pure and utter misery, leading to boredom tears and sighs of frustration. Like any other day, really.

Unofficially, Fridays are half days. Officially, we’re on call, but conveniently out of mobile range. However, my boss’ boss is in town, (for one whole miserable, terrible, angsty month) so we have to do the whole 8 – 5 thing and work, or pretend to work to justify our paycheques. This includes staying until 4pm on a long weekend Friday. This is nothing short of torture.

Today, my timesheet, if I had to record a daily timesheet, would look like this:

25 minutes preparing coffees, teas and opening cans of drink

90 minutes eating verrrry sloooowly. No one bothers you when they think you’re eating lunch

30 minutes on ‘business related industriousness’

45 minutes talking to boss about weekend plans

30 minutes hiding out in the ladies, attempting to pull back from the brink of frustration based hysteria

This means that I spent a hell of a lot of minutes G

oogling shit. And that loses it’s charm after the 325^th minute.

A recap

To potentially make up for the entirely unreasonable length of time since posting (I have located the source of fault to be the laptop. I don’t like the Mac version of word. Word.) I would like to present the following offering:

I went camping for the first time in 2+ years a few w

eekends ago. Only one of the five of us that went is a regular camper and he’s a bit of a princess, so I made fun of him and his 48 cubic metres of camping accoutrement until 12.32am the first night. That was when the heavens opened and I fell deeply in love with his kitchen tent.

The rest of the weekend reads: rain, rain, no sleep, rain, walk on the beach of death, rain, rain, no sleep, gunfire at 3am, rain, pack up, wait dejectedly for the ferry, collapse into bed, discover slug in the car, weep.

Notable moments include: Hodge getting soap on his contact lenses in an improbable and unlikely fashion, discovering that he didn’t pack his glasses and ferociously rinsing said contact lenses until he could get at least one in. This resulted in zero depth perception, which led to a fractured finger. For Realz.

I suffered a second degree burn on my finger as a result of my own stupidity involving a cigarette and a card game. Too zealous? Perhaps.

After two weeks of healing!

Sleeping (rather – not sleeping but laying awake listening for gunshots – to scare the bears away, I shit you not) in a tent designed for infants and not two adults as the label says, with a man who smelled pretty badly. I don’t know what it is about men and camping and the utter refusal to bathe. Next time, if there is a next time, I am sleeping in the car.

Walking on the beach of death. The only living beings on it were ourselves, the dogs and the carrion eaters that threatened to fly off with the miniature dachshund. Not so miraculous, Miracle Beach.

I did a City Chase last weekend. We didn’t finish, but we came close. Next year, that bitch is ours!

We are not great route planners, but what we lacked in foresight, we totally made up with misdirection and enthusiam.

Luch, my beloved mental doppelganger, is 8’10” and has a rather long gait, if you can imagine. Those long legs required his teammate, Hodge, to trot a bit to keep up with him. Seeing Hodge running, Rob would start to jog and then they would be stirring up the dust and leaving Pumpkin and I, in a murderous rage, in their wake. I did manage to jog quite a bit of it, but the effort left me with several stitches and shin splints.

Aside from broken bodies and not finishing, we loved it and can’t wait to punish ourselves next year. We have vowed to finish this time. Also, beer has never tasted so good as after a full day of running and doing odd tasks in the sun.

In other news

My alley, usually home to urination and suspiciously-like-human excrement, was witness to slurpee vomits today. So was I, in an aural sense. Fortunately I didn’t see it, rather heard it (and assumed that it was water being poured out until I looked up and saw a young man doubled over holding his half empty cup). It was enough to make me queasy, but not enough to dry heave, so…WIN! It was a red slurpee, in case you were wondering, so somewhat-but-not-really like the excorcist. The young man then washes his mouth out with slurpee and, presumably, carried on with his day.

Since I can’t really leave you on red vomit stories, I am taking another cooking class at the Dirty Apron. It is cocktails and canapés, and I intend on getting really, really, unreasonably legless and stay in bed all day Sunday.

Chin-chin, Anna xo

In An Effort To Make An Effort

Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Well, you know those rowing classes I mentioned last post? Well, we had a sort of ‘newbie’ regatta over the weekend and we totally killed it. I can’t begin to express how dumbfounded my entire team was, as we were utterly prepared to lose and lose big.

Because I have been getting a 'whaaaa' face from friends when I say rowing…. That would be the long, skinny boating kind, with the oars and the seven other people, each attached to an oar. And I have to say; I really, really like it. Like really like it! I have been meaning to row for a number of years but never got around to it because, well effectively, I was too scared. All I can say about the anxiety of trying something new….I wish I had done it sooner.

So, our team, rocking the shit out of the regatta.* As I said, we were prepared to suck, because our lessons had digressed into just two of eight of us into getting any sort of feedback from the coach, none of it good. Essentially, our boat resembled Bambi on ice, with oars going willy nilly, but at impressive speed, I must say, and the boat tipping perilously close to tipping us into the drink.

There was the promise of beer to lure us to the finishing line, and that, dear internet, is the greatest of motivators! We were all so stunned when we won the whole lot, that there was no cheering, no high fives and no acknowledgement of the winning until we had that celebratory drink in hand.

Where old meets new and vice versa

I had KB come to stay for a week a while ago. And, while it wasn’t a traumatic experience as such, it certainly wasn’t the most enjoyable time. I’m pretty confident when I say, too, that the previous statement applies to all parties.

I don’t want to write too much about the whole experience, aside from advising my future self that is NOT a good idea to have dinner with your new boyfriend, old boyfriend and his current girlfriend** under any circumstances.

My final on-line remarks about this: I am witnessing the end of a friendship, KB’s and mine and, needless to say, I am inexpressably sad about it. Even though my feelings romantically didn’t run as deep as he wanted, I did value him and what he contributed to my life. I am truly sorry that KB is no longer a part of it.

The Weather, as reported by Anna:

This weeks forecast is rain, with a chance of dry periods, though that is not to be expected. Make sure you don’t get sucked into bright mornings, and dress inappropriately, because on your way home from the office, you will encounter a rain of biblical proportions. So make sure you bring that umbrella, in fact, surgically attach it to your body (go go gadget umbrella!), and try not to drown in the enormous puddles.

Though it is tempting, don't bother doing hair or make up, or anything even vaguely reminiscent of Making An Effort, as all good works will be undone in approximately 14.6 seconds, courtesy of Zeus and his thunder stick.

That is all, Anna.

*not literally, that was the other boats….hahaha….bitches!

**of whom, I know far too much about…most notably from disparaging gossip from KB.

In Which I Win, Lose and Commit a Crime

Win! Or was that Lose?

If I were a man, my behaviour towards my apartment would be easier to reconcile as I have limited furniture and stuff in general, my walls are bare and I haven’t washed the floors in three months. In short, I live like a male college nerd, minus the nudie posters in the bathroom.

However, the times, they are a-changing.

You are reading from the blog of a soon to be owner of a couch. After 9 months of living solo (plus 3 months with my last housemate) I have decided to do something out of character and get some sort of seating that is not the queen size inflatable mattress in the middle of my living room floor.

To do it in my own awkward and slightly irreverent way, I have got a couch from a friend of a friend*, who I have yet to meet, and am buying his sofa, that I have yet to see. I’m putting all my faith in Jez that he’s not misspent my $350.

Also - I, on a whim, bid on a couple of paintings at a gallery on Saturday. I won!! Huzzah. They’re super cute and (me thinks / me thought) a bargain at $170 for the pair. Until I went online and found them for $75 each of 3 for $200, so that kind of sucks. (I got gub and neutron…gub is my favourite)

*This might turn out to be an urban legend couch…it happened to a friend of a friend of mine … true story!

Panic in the Laundromat

Confession: I am a lazy laundress. I don’t like the communal laundry room in my apartment building (2 washers & 2 dryers for 40 units!) because, frankly, I am a lazy, lazy person and I don’t enjoy scheduling a night to do my laundry. I would much rather toss in a load before work, forget about it for 2 days, then have to re-wash 4 times to get the smell of mildew out of my t-shirts.

BUT

It became necessary for me to do my laundry since I *almost* had to resort to the bathing suit bottoms for lack of clean drawers. Erm…almost.

I’ve worked out a system to minimise the cost of laundry day ($2 wash, $2 dry) and maximise the efficiency by staggering loads and using the dryer once for two washes. (Summary 2 wash = 1 dry). I just have to time it right, and since my preferred dryer runs for a looong time, I rarely have any issues.**

Last night, though, someone fucked with the system. And if I ever find out who it was, we will have a discussion about laundry etiquette before I mash his face into dirty underwear whilst making him wash his mouth with liquid laundry detergent.

I went down to do the swap, only to find my dryer usurped by a load of mans clothes. He stole my dryer, and by extension, my money. I found my clothes sitting in a slightly damp heap on top of the dryer.

I contemplated putting food dye or a couple of damp tissues in to teach him a lesson, but dismissed it as silly (I wouldn’t want to permanently damage my favourite dryer), so I turned the machine off. Put my second load into the vacant (!) dryer and gave the world the finger, with a message to pass it on the thieving asshole.

I had a slight attack of the guilts when I picked up my last load, so I turned his machine back on. Which gave me a thrill because he’ll wonder forever about that dryer and it’s lack of drying ability, hopefully leaving me and my damp clothes to a clean and happy (and dry) future.

** How OCD was that paragraph??

I dare say Old Cock:

On my walk to work this morning, I saw a real live, honest to Jiminy deerstalker!! I imagine that the man who was wearing this lovely hat is an English gentleman, as a Canadian man only actually stalks deer, in camo apparel lined with day-glo orange.

Swagger Like John Wayne:

A friend invited me to take a yoga class with her on Saturday, and because it’d been approximately 42 years since I’d done any exercise, I decided to go. Ohmygad, two days on and I’m still sore. I’ve been broken by Hatha.

During one part the instructor had us do this move: Squat and place our hands on the inside of our feet, so both the feet and the palms were flat on the floor. In this position, we were supposed to take a turn around the studio, because the Taoists think that doing this ungainly walk for 10 minutes a day is the key to perfect health***. I did a small circle, realising with alarm that I would most certainly be the last person to complete the circuit, so I did a teeny circle and went back to my mat (hoping that I did a passable job of faking it). The whole thing was (a) far too reminiscent of school gym classes (where I tried to fake it but always got caught), and (b) not very yogi at all of me, but I can honestly say that this girl doesn’t care.

***Google let me down on that, too. Suspect that she made the whole thing up, sadistic bitch.

-Anna

'Afternoon

I was going to say Happy Monday, but I don’t want to fool you into thinking I’m Mary fucking Sunshine. Because I am not. Particularly on a Monday. An especially wet and gloomy Monday. So let me conclude by saying, since we’re all in this Monday business together: Hi. How’s your hangover?

My weekend with nuts, in a shell (like an M&M!):

I got hit on, repeatedly, by Hodge’s colleague when we were all out on Friday. We both repeatedly told Ralph, aka the octopus hands man, that I had a significant someone or other and that I wasn’t going to reciprocate his advances. Ever. Not even if I was single. You wee little man.

Aside from handsy man and hunter man*, I enjoyed my Friday, even if my neuroses came out in force after a few drinks. It would appear that I am a clean freak (some might say Nazi) after I’ve had a few and the venue happens to be my apartment; It took alot of restraint to not plastic wrap my place. I’m also slightly concerned that Ted Bundy lives in my bedroom closet, that I have to say to myself before every flight that I get on that the plane is going to crash** and earthquakes are a very scary thought for me***. (I had some serious problems in my last high rise apartment: I lived on the bottom floor and thought every night I stayes there that an earthquake would topple the whole building onto me and they would never recover my body) So, in the end, some near strangers know far too much about my secret persona (Bridget-Jones-meets-Woody-Allen-with-OCD) that I had so skilfully tried to hide.

*Hunter man was excitedly explaining that he was going to go hunting and shoot everything he saw, like, everything. Perhaps I took him too literally while he was being ‘cool, man’ because I fail to see the cool side of frivolously shooting animals that aren’t going to be used in a purposeful manner. Note to Hunter man: Pull your badly haircutted head out of your ass before opening your mouth again, because it keeps filling up with diarrhoetic shit and is spewing from all of your orifices. Douche.
***And that concludes Monday’s soapbox session. You are excused.***

**I do sincerely think that before I get on flights, and I would say that I fly a fair bit. I resign myself to the fact that if the plane does go down, there is nothing that I can do about it, and if it’s my time to go, I’ll give your regards to the man downstairs. However, this has become a double edged sword when I have caught myself not saying it and then realised, mid flight, that I had doomed my unlucky co-planers because by not saying it, the plane was going to crash. It’s complicated.

***Ha! I live in earthquake alley, where I had earthquake drills in junior high school. Hide under a desk, in a door way, hold a text book over your head and neck for protection!

Saturday was a bit of a write off. It was full of sick people (genuinely ill, not gutterminds, unlike Sunday), driving, getting lost, wanting to get lost and Ikea. I know that there are tons of people that really enjoy getting their grooves on at Ikea. I’m not one of them. I no longer find shopping fun and enjoyable, and shop like a man-woman (wanting to get in and get out, but needing to find the ‘perfect’ lamp/pillow/pair of jeans, etc). All in all, it was a very long day.

Sunday was Funday! I met my fellow apartment dwellers, Hodge and Hug, for brekkie at Theresa’s on Denman, which to date is my favourite cheap and cheerful breakfast joint. There were other destinations in the day, culminating with finding rocks at the beach and red velvet cupcakes for dessert.

It was like spending the day with two brothers, but better (since these guys can carry on a conversation which doesn’t include grunting in reply to queries)! I really am fond of my neighbours and think that I must have done something right to deserve their company, even in the meanwhile. They also buy me red velvet and chocolate cupcakes, and I’m not usually one to let a good thing go!

I also have a short week ahead of me. My boss and I have elected to work on Wednesday (though I will be going to the Remembrance Day services) and have Friday off instead. Inspired idea, Boss!

This entry has taken far too long, and I’m afraid that I have lost interest now. It’s also (conveniently) time for me to go home and de-mould my fridge*.

-Anna

*Ha! Who am I kidding? Like that’s going to happen!