Off To Paris

First I should mention that when I'm having dinner with my parents in a sleepy French village, the last song I expect to hear in the tiny restaurant is "Pony" by Ginuwine. But when it happens, it is awesome. I will just be thankful that Domini isn't here yet, as I can only imagine what dance moves we would have been inspired to break out with.

Speaking of Domini, I'm about to head to Paris now to meet her, so everyone have a Happy New Year and I'll try to manage some sort of update next week.

Still Behaving

Honestly the most drunk I've probably been was last night's dinner party, and that was really due to mixing too many types of alcohol, not because I was doing keg stands or anything of that sort.

My favourite part of the night was probably the drive home where my mother called my annoyingly drunk stepdad an "asshole" and followed that up with "shut up or get out". I can't even remember why it happened, I just thought it was fantastic.


In other news, I continue my appreciation of all things weird and European in the world of music. I'm still getting into a lot of the actual French stuff, however I saw this earlier today and had to share. Be sure to watch at least the first minute of the video for the full WTF factor:

Starting Rock & Diva Avari - Don't Go

A Nice Change

Well first I have to say that the trip getting here was probably the longest I've ever endured. About 38 hours door to door. But 3 flights and 2 train rides later I finally arrived at my mother's house here in the French countryside (aka the asshole of nowhere), just in time for Christmas Eve dinner and drinks. I even impressed myself by staying up until well past midnight and opening a few gifts before having to go up to my room and collapse.

Probably the part of my trip that you would all enjoy hearing about most would be the point where I totally thought I was getting checked out while I was standing in a line at Heathrow. Seriously, I had a certified hottie look me up and down from head to toe. And just when I was a little too impressed at getting checked out after some 24 hours of traveling, said person pointed at my feet and says "Um...is that yours?" Looked down and one of my freaking passports was lying on the ground. Damn, I am such a smooth operator sometimes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

So far though, this place is just as relaxing as I remember. I've spent all of my time sleeping, eating, drinking and reading, and even took a nice walk along the cliffs nearby with the family. How very wholesome.

Of course now there are about 40 people beginning to descend on our house for my mother's annual Boxing Day event. This means there will be mostly people who either barely speak English or don't speak it at all surrounding me on all sides. The trick will be to drink just enough that I am relaxed about speaking my basic French to our guests. The more probable outcome is that I will drink so much that I will start slurring in Swahili and then get confused as to why people won't talk to me anymore. Wish me luck.

The Glamorous Life

So I'm almost ready to head to the airport and jet off for Paris. Actually, I'm ridiculously hungover and haven't started packing yet even though a car will be picking me up in an hour, but I'll work it out.

Considering the amount I paid for the tickets it would be only fair that they will have 4 Burmese virgins massaging my shoulders for the entire journey, but I'm guessing that won't be the case. Actually I'm just hoping I will really arrive in France on Christmas Eve like I'm supposed to, considering the current chaos at Heathrow, which I'm flying through. After a week of partying entirely too much, I'm in no condition to put up with that kind of nonsense.

Anyway, everyone enjoy the holidays. I will try to update a couple of times while I'm jet setting, but rest assured that there will be plenty of pictures after these two weeks, most of which will ensure that I will never have a career in politics.

Naughty Girls Need Love Too

*Apologies for the title, but it was the last song that came on my iPod and it's blocking any attempt at something creative or less embarrassing.

So last night...I headed home, and at 7.15 I found myself sitting on my couch watching Friends and finishing off some dinner, pleased that I was really going to pull off a quiet night.

And of course at 1.30am I was heading home from a bar. Hopeless.

Events between those times included outrageous amounts of beer, an engagement announcement, 5 tequila shots each to celebrate, hilarious discussions about people we don't talk to anymore who are terrible liars when there's hard evidence to the contrary, someone borrowing a skateboard from a male prostitute (eww) and ending up at the doctor getting their arm put in a sling, and much much more.


So now I'm at work on the last day before the two week shutdown and I'm not sure I'm even hungover yet, but I'm still eyeing the booze fridge like a fucking pinata because you know we are gonna raid that thing as soon as the afternoon hits.

Loving China Right Now

Not that I needed any more reason to think China was awesome after my trip to Shanghai in May, but I am seriously want to worship whoever it was over there that decided that fat people are no longer allowed to adopt Chinese babies. China, you are my hero.

Random Tuesday Night Drinking

There weren't any real plans for drinks on Tuesday after work, but one member of the group managed to have their third breakup of 2006 and the team instantly mobilized to celebrate this latest development.

I headed to the usual spot to meet up with The Unit (as we've decided we should be called) and immediately started throwing the beers back. As it usually goes, the random get together turned into one of the funnest nights we've had in a while.

Fantastic moments:

• Paddy imitating a retard, causing K-Town to spew a mouthful of white wine across the table
• The barback reaching over Mickey's shoulder to get an empty glass, and Mickey thinking it was me and biting the barback's arm. He realized it wasn't me once his teeth made contact with a hairy arm instead of the sleeve of my shirt. It was awesome.
• Ending up at a karaoke night at one of the usual trashy bars only to have Chip and Paddy get on stage to sing a duet. Made even more embarrassing by Paddy just standing on stage staring into space with a drunken look in his eye, because he couldn't find the screen where the words were. Humiliating for all of us, I assure you.

Not a clue what time I got home, but I'm completely useless today and loving it.

How The Grinch Made All His Friends Cry

It was a bit of an odd weekend for me. On Friday I stopped my drinking after about 6 hours to try and save some energy for the planned festivities on Saturday.

Unfortunately I woke up on Saturday with the unusual urge to injure anyone to come my way. It's not that often that I'm in a bad mood, but when it happens it is UGLY. Realizing this was the case, I was sure to warn my friends as soon as I met up with them for our Christmas BBQ (god, that's so Australian) that my bitchiness was not to be taken personally. And as a disclaimer, I would like to say that someone else did storm out of the apartment before the end of the night without saying goodbye to anyone, but I really really had absolutely nothing to do with it, thank you very much.

I decided that I just needed "more wine" to make everything better, which left me just as bitchy but at least I don't really remember the last couple of hours of the night. Ah well. Merry Christmas, sorry I was a bit of a Scrooge. I actually checked my horoscope belatedly, and it basically said "you will be in a FOUL mood today, and there's nothing you can do about it." I shit you not.

At this point I'm just trying to get through a somewhat stressful week at work so I can get on that freakin' plane on Saturday and head off on my fabulous jetsetting in Europe. Apologies if I bitch you out in the process. Toodles!

Overheard In The Office

The assistant walked up to me to talk about an invoice yesterday. Unfortunately for her, me and one of the female designers were in the middle of a conversation, so this is all she heard:

Zander: Kinda makes you wish you were a lesbian, huh?

Designer: Well, I had sisters growing up, so we did that.

...resulting in...

Assistant: OH MY GOD WHAT???


By the time I'd finished explaining that we were randomly talking about same-sex couples being able to share clothing I was crying with laughter, and she still looked skeptical. The designer just looked embarrassed.

God knows what the rumours around the office will be by next week...

Celebrity Me

Sometimes I like to ponder aloud who exactly I would be if I was a celebrity. I often say I'd be Paris Hilton, but let's face it, I simply wouldn't have the old money charm to even attempt to balance out my trashy image. And occasionally I'll bring up Andy Dick, but I can't imagine ever genius enough to replicate some of his antics.

Today, I was reading one of my usual trashy websites and came to the harsh realization that I'd be more like the tragic Tara Reid:


Talentless, a messy drunk, and downright irrelevant other than to be someone else's laughing stock.

And then I just thank the lord that I'm not actually famous.

Catching Up

Sorry it's taken so long to post something about the weekend, I've somehow managed to end up with work to do these days.

Of course now I found myself in the extremely unenviable position of having a ton of things to do, but being unable to do them until people send me files or fix systems or whatever else. I could use this time to start my long neglected Christmas shopping, but I think I'll blog instead.


Friday -- the work Christmas party

I'll be honest, this wasn't that crazy. My theory is that Australians spend so much time drunk together as it is that a Christmas party is just another drop in the bucket. Having said that, there were some decent highlights. My favourite was easily one of the directors swinging his pool cue around drunkenly and almost blinding the group personal assistant. As a matter of fact it was so close that he managed to leave a chalk mark on her eyelid. Impressive.

I was running my mouth as usual, but managed to leave after 8 hours without saying anything too stupid. The star of the show was the Swedish girl who sits next to me and always gets a bit crazy when she has a couple of drinks in her. At one point I just started snapping pictures of her because it seemed like she was doing something weird every 2 minutes or so.

The rest of the pics are here.


Saturday -- birthday drinks

Woke up feeling fine and started the birthday drinking at 3pm at the Beauchamp (which is annoyingly pronounced "Bee-chum" for some reason. Reminds me of driving near Pittsburgh when I went to college there and seeing "Versailles" and knowing that the locals called it "Ver-sails". So aggravating). The turnout was good and only one person had to be sent home because they were so trashed. I'll be nice and not print her name here, although it's blatantly clear from the picture here who I'm talking about.

Otherwise the night turned into some trashy dancing and then a fine Indian dinner around midnight before crawling into bed. Good times, and much preferred to my birthday party last year which I only vaguely remember.

I Love Today

Went to the open bar last night but I'll admit that it was a little too crowded for me to really enjoy all the free booze and food.

The night also managed to take a turn for the worst when I stopped by Paddy's place and he attempted to introduce me to the world of "granny porn". Absolutely vile. I'm actually grimacing while I type this.


But it's all good. Today is our work Christmas lunch which is promised to devolve into a pub crawl towards the city. The only issue is that we are leaving the office at 12.30, and I didn't bother showing up until around 9.30, which makes it seem somewhat pointless to actually start doing work at this stage in the day.

I almost did earlier, and then a friend and colleague asked me how to do something in Outlook. Instead of showing her in 2 minutes by going down one floor, I created a PowerPoint presentation with screenshots and instructions and emailed it to her. It just seemed more fun that way.

I've got my camera today so I will hopefully have something to share with you all next week. In the meantime, enjoy this because it's hysterical.

It's My Party...

My actual birthday was very nice but pretty uneventful. Alas, work is a little too busy for a couple of days that I can show up drunk or hungover. A few moments:

• Insisted on buying myself Starburst Gummy Fruits on the way into work for breakfast, because it was my birthday and I could do what I wanted. Started to feel sick mid-morning, and looked down to realise I had eaten the entire bag in about 20 minutes.
• Recovered from my self-inflicted nausea long enough to head to lunch with the A-list from work.
• Stupidly chose the place that everyone from work goes, meaning every 5 minutes someone we didn’t invite would walk by and wonder why we they’d been left off the invite list. This is how I end up as part of the “Mean Girls” crew in every office I work in. On Wednesdays we wear pink!
• When being hounded about something work-related on a conference call in the afternoon, I actually said “Hey hey, it’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me”, and it totally worked and shut them up. I still haven’t done what I was supposed to do.
• Left the office as quickly as possible after 5pm so I could get to drinks at Darling Harbour. Was mean to everyone because it was my birthday and I knew they’d have to put up with it, and I’m clearly 6 years old.

After all that, the answer to the usual question is NO, I do not feel older, although it is weird to think that I am officially in my “late-twenties”. I’m still hoping my eyesight will hold out long enough that I can wait until 30 to get the glasses I clearly need desperately, but as I said last night, it’s not really a problem until I start having trouble seeing myself in reflective surfaces.

Hang in there for some real drunken excitement. This week includes an open bar after work tomorrow, our work holiday lunch and pub crawl on Friday afternoon, and birthday drinking starting at 3pm on Saturday. Surely at least one of those can land someone in either the hospital or the local jail.

I'm Surprised This Laptop Doesn't Hate Me Too

I almost managed to pull off the low-key weekend I was aiming for. Friday night was a few of us having dinner at Longgrain, favourite restaurant in Sydney. Saturday night was a quiet one with some wine and a DVD. So of course by 3pm on Sunday we were all sitting on a balcony overlooking the harbour and demolishing the leftover supply of alcohol from last weekend's Thanksgiving picnic. Ah well, it was worth a shot.

I don't really have any crazy stories, so instead I'm going to subject you to some bitching. You see, technology has turned on me in the past week. Here's the update:

• My Foxtel (that's cable TV, for the non-Aussies) has decided to get difficult every since we got a new TV last week. I finally got through to technical support yesterday, who "explained" to me that I had to go out and buy some whole new fancy type of TV cable that I can't pronounce. I have fortunately obtained it and after plugging random cords into various holes, I now have a picture AND sound on the television. We have no idea how to involve the VCR in this new process, and at this point I don't care.
• I managed to crack the screen on my oh-so-lovely mobile phone not too long ago. Granted I was over the novelty of it all, but until it's fixed, I'm relegated to using my New York phone which has the charming quality of not actually identifying calls and text messages when they come in. I'm actually starting to memorise people's numbers, something that no one has done in over 7 years. It's scary.
• And the winner of this trifecta of retardness is that my iPod adapter/charger that I bought only 3 months ago has decided to stop working. Of all the most unlikely things to stop working, how the hell did this happen? I don't even understand how it's possible. It just...doesn't...work.

Fortunately for me, this is where my silly habit of keeping every receipt in every box in every bag for every gadget I buy under my bed comes in handy. Too bad I'm usually too drunk to handle things like this.

I promise I will have more stories in the next few days, considering it's my birthday week AND our work holiday lunch/pub crawl is coming up soon too. That will definitely require pictures.

Kindred Spirits

Had this email from Emla this morning:

"[My friend] hosted Thanksgiving dinner at her place for herself and a few other people who weren't going away somewhere. Anyway, this annoying girl invites herself but only can make it to the dessert portion of the evening. Fine. So, she shows up with a bottle of dessert wine (fitting) and is annoying. Comes time to leave and she took the 1/2 drunk bottle of wine with her when she left. How gauche."

Perhaps. Or maybe she's like me and she feels naked walking down the street without a drink in her hand. God, I hate it when people are so judgmental...

Why My Friends Are Awesome

Slutty McRacist: so...i slept with a nigerian last night

Zander: holy crap. that's your first time going black, right?

Slutty McRacist: yup

Zander: you going back?

Slutty McRacist: nah, don't think so

Zander: he wasn't cute?

Slutty McRacist: eh, he was. but i have no idea what his name was

Zander: nice. it was probably "njmboto" or something.

Slutty McRacist: yeah, or "click click"

Slutty McRacist: besides, he lived up in like...washington heights. that's like a long distance relationship. you'd have to be the hottest guy in the world for me to commit to that kind of travel time.

This Can Only Spell D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R

So for some godforsaken reason (actually because of an event I voluntarily signed up for), I was in the office by 7.15 this morning. Did you know that public transport is running that early? And there's like, people outside? Doing stuff? Granted I tend to wake up at semi-ridiculous hours most days, but there's a huge difference between waking up and doing shit. Never again, thank you very much.

I'm already exhausted, which is particularly bad because the drinking will start at 4pm in the office today. Yes, I realise it's only Thursday, but we are having drinks to mark the end of "Movember", and considering my feelings on the whole thing, you know I will be celebrating the fact that I can wake up tomorrow and not wonder why the population of homeless men in Sydney has suddenly quadrupled. There will also be a best (aka worst) moustache competition, so the guys have gotten a little creative today. Should be fun.

But that's not all. a little before 7pm I am boarding a boat to go on a 4 hour cruise around the harbour for a friend's 30th birthday. Apart from the fact that I tend to feel trapped when I'm on a boat, it's an open bar paid for by the hosts, which means there's a good chance I will end up taking an unexpected late night swim at some point this evening.

A Little Upset With Myself...

...because after hearing it last week and trash-talking it, the awful new Gwen Stefani song is actually growing on me a little. I've probably just watched the retarded video too many times. I am a marketing executive's fantasy, I swear.

Not that this is the first time I've changed my musical tastes. A few months ago I would have told you I wanted all of the Pussycat Dolls dead and buried, and now I'm pretty sure I want to be the 7th Pussycat Doll.

In other music news, it's only been about 30 hours since I first heard the song, but I may have found my summer dance anthem for 2006/2007. You can watch the video here, I love it cause it's weird and a little bit creepy. That chick needs some valium.

"Dance It Out!"

I was an idiot on Friday night and despite swearing I would be home by 10pm so I'd be able to wake up early on Saturday and start cooking the Thanksgiving feast I naturally did no such thing. After work drinks where I told my colleagues my personal pickup line ("I'm half black, and that's from the waist down"), heading off with a coworker to see her ex's band play, and then meeting up with the usual crew, it wasn't the quiet night I had envisioned for myself.

Despite all that, most of the food came out great. Well, I should mention that until now I was unaware that you could cook a turkey upside down (why does it matter??) but my turkey, stuffing and garlic mash with melted cheese were all devoured pretty quickly, so I am considering myself successful.

The only thing that really didn't work out was my attempt at gravy, which ended up looking more like a stool sample and needed to be disposed of. I also made salad for 20 people and managed to leave it in my fridge, so my flatmate and I will be eating very healthy for the next few days in an effort to finish it off.

We had agreed that the Americans would cook, so everyone else should just bring booze. This resulted in the non-Americans bringing enough alcohol to kill an African village. Seriously, even after drinking in the park for 4 hours we still had unopened cases of beer, and too many bottles of wine and champagne to count. So what else could we do other than take it all back to someone's apartment, make our best attempt at finishing it off, and dancing around to awful pop music?

Favourite moments from that point forward:

• Interesting attempts at both flamenco and Irish folk dance
• Sesame dancing a little too ghetto and splitting open the pair of shorts she had just borrowed from the hosts
• Paddy falling backwards off of his seat and pouring his entire glass of white wine on his own face. Of course he doesn't even remember it, even though it had me in hysterics for a solid 10 minutes.

Eventually I passed over to the dark side and had to be taken home before I did anything similar, but a good time was had by all. Unfortunately the next day I had to head out to Parramatta to spend time with the family, which would have been a little less daunting if I didn't feel like I was about to die. Ah well, I suppose that's the price we pay. If any good photos surface I'll be sure to post them up here.

Almost Forgot

It's Friday and I can't be bothered to blog for real, but figured I should share my Hamilton Island photos with you guys (for the 3 people in the world who I haven't sent them to already). They're a tad more exciting than the one to the left, I just chose that because it was probably the most family-friendly in there.

Enjoy and have a good weekend, I will probably have tons of Thanksgiving photos for you next week too!

Glutton for Punishment

Went over to Woolloomooloo last night (yes it's a real place, as silly as it sounds) to have a few drinks and then head over to Sesame's place for Top Model and a bottle of Veuve. It ended up being a recap show, which was good for two reasons. 1) I've missed several episodes this season, mostly because of Emla and Dom visiting (an even trade off, I suppose) and 2) we are STILL hurting from last week's painful elimination of Brooke, who was our favourite. And eliminated on her freakin' graduation night that she had missed to be on the show, no less. Tyra, I'm actually starting to lean waaayyyy more towards the hate in my love/hate relationship with you this season. Just thought I'd give you a heads up and a chance to change your ways.

My other major accomplishment for the evening (not that I should count drinking champagne and watching a Top Model recap as an accomplishment in any sense of the word, but I digress) was buying almost all of the food I need to make Thanksgiving dinner this week.

That's right -- yours truly is going all out this year and contributing to the feast. Last year I had just hopped off a plane from my week in Tahiti and didn't have time to make anything, so I can finally make it up to Team America, who did all the cooking last year, and will do plenty of it this year too. I'll be doing a turkey, stuffing, mash, gravy and a salad plus dressing. Slightly ambitious considering I've never done most of those before, but I'm confident I can pull it off.

We're all set for a 30 person Thanksgiving get together in the park on Saturday afternoon, and naturally there will be plenty of pictures of my fuck ups, so now you have something to look forward to.

Happy Turkey Day.

If You Care...

Might as well give you a quick rundown of my weekend, since this week hasn't been thoroughly exciting so far.

Friday

Headed off to Opera Bar for a friend's birthday drinks. Proceeded to get drunk and obnoxious, even after karma kicked in a A BIRD SHIT ON ME. So much for the glamour of outdoor drinking. My friends cleaned it up before I'd even realised what had happened, so the night went on.

I was heading home early around 9pm (don't make fun...I have a lame ass medical condition that will require surgery in the near future, but more on that later) when I was harassed by some flight attendants. They'd all been drinking since noon to celebrate graduating from idiot school, and had already been kicked out of 2 bars that day. They were also the dumbest people I have met in a long, long time. Naturally I stuck around for 2 hours and a few more drinks. Good times.

Saturday

After giving the apartment a good (and much-needed) cleaning that my flatmate is still raving about, I headed to a BBQ and started drinking with the usual assholes. Of course I guess I was a little ambitious, as I ended up passing out drunk around 8pm, waking up for maybe an hour or so later on for another couple of drinks, and then passing out in one of the hosts' beds and eventually waking up next to them around 8.30am. Oops. Why do people invite me to parties again?

Sunday

Hit the beach, went to a birthday picnic in the park, and then ended up at a random bar on William Street where we played crappy music videos until all the regulars had been forced out. Good times. Went home so I could watch Project Runway at 9.30pm, and then realised I was too drunk and tired to appreciate it so I went to bed.

Which is why I need to cut this short, since they are replaying that episode this evening and I'll be damned if I'm missing it again.

How I Feel Today

Courtesy of PostSecret

T. F. I. F.

No, that's not a typo. So glad the weekend is here. In honor of it all (and since I clearly have nothing of value to contribute to this post), I present an oldie but a goodie. Think of it as a window into the scene in any Australian office on a Friday afternoon.




No, seriously. Although the girls could use some more beer.

There's Something On Your Face

Well, after an outrageously fun 10 days, Emla and Domini have left me all alone. It's a bit sad of course, and if I'm going to be in a less than stellar mood, I think it's the perfect time for an overdue rant.

This time it's something that has irritated me for over 2 weeks and promises to do so for another 2 weeks. See, here in Australia they have something called "Movember" -- where guys grow a "mo" (moustache) for a month to promote awareness of men's health issues. However, I have a few issues of my own:

• The specific men's health issues that are named for this are "prostate cancer" and "male depression". I'm sorry, but did they just pick their health issues out of a hat?? What is the correlation here? Granted I imagine that if I was diagnosed with prostate cancer I'd be at least a little depressed, but that's neither here nor there. Shit like this makes me think I will grow a moustache in March, heretofore to be known as "Morch". It will be to promote awareness of ingrown toenails and lazy eyes.
• I can't decide who I despise more -- guys who participate in this, or people who wear those lame ass LiveStrong wrist bands. It's all really the same thing.
• How pissed off must all of their spouses be that their men have an excuse to look homeless for a whole month?
• My absolute favourite has to be the guys who are participating in Movember but can be seen smoking outside their office buildings. Surely even the dumbest of the dumb should be recognizing the irony/idiocy of supposedly promoting men's health while sticking something in their mouth whose main ingredient is cancer. I can only imagine that all of these men are single, as it's hard enough to kiss a smoker without facial hair, I can't imagine what it would be like with one who has tufts of hair around their mouth that absorbs every puff of smoke that escapes their mouth.
• Perhaps I'm just irriated by the sheer genuis of this promotion. I mean, men always seem to be looking for any excuse to have retarded and unattractive facial hair, whether it be a moustache, goatee or a soul patch. Now they can claim they are doing it for a good cause, instead of having to be one of those douches who have ugly facial hair year round and think they are getting away with it when it's so obvious to everyone else that they aren't.

Anyway that's all I have to say about that for now, but I feel better now that I've vented a little. Perhaps 1% of men in the world can pull off facial hair and not look like a twat, so I just wanted to make sure I had advised you that if you're reading this, there's a REALLY good chance that you're not one of them, though I'm sure you think otherwise.

Better The Devil You Know

Haaaayyyyy, I'm back. Have just had the best few days EVER, and I'm pretty sure the rest of my life will pale in comparison.

Took many amazing pictures up at Hamilton Island, however I haven't had a chance to upload them yet. Will try to throw together one of my little albums for it later this week.

In the meantime, I will say that the Kylie concert last night was AMAZING. Highlights:

• Kylie doing the Roger Rabbit at the end of one of her songs, seemingly spontaneously. That was awesome. If only she had worked in The Sprinkler.
• Bono jumping on stage to sing Robbie's part in "Kids" with Kylie. Very nice surprise.
• The little pink t-shirt I borrowed for the occasion. Got an unexpected number of compliments on it. I don't think the owner is getting it back.
• Her new song that she wrote with the Scissor Sisters sounds fantastic
• So not only is this woman nearing 40 years old, but she is just getting over breast cancer? And she still looks and sounds this good?? People like this make me feel like I'm slacking. I'm not even 27 yet, and if you put me on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people the best I could manage would be to get drunk and tell a racist joke.

Seriously though, I've been to a lot of great concerts in recent years (Jay-Z, No Doubt, Snoop, Madonna) but this was definitely the most fun, and I'm not just saying that because I was so drunk. Although we did start drinking at 5, and I did get an additional beer at every costume change. That stuff isn't gonna drink itself, you know.

Dragged the girls out to a trashy bar for some dancing afterwards, which was also a good time until I had to tell some weird old guy to fuck off, which resulted in him yelling "Wanker! Wanker! WANKER!" at me for a few minutes. Uh yeah dude, maybe you should just get some friends and situations like this won't come up?

Anyway it's Monday morning and I feel fine, which means as soon as I eat lunch I will probably crash and burn and have a ridiculously unproductive afternoon. Bring it.

BTW...

We're off to Hamilton Island for a few days, so it'll be a little bit before the next update, maybe longer if I'm eaten by sharks or aboriginals or whatever strange creatures they have up there...

Geez, Just Checking

Well here's another one to add to the list of how AWESOME I was on Tuesday, which had to be told to me by witnesses because I have zero recollection of it. Apparently we went to Wagamama for dinner after the last bar, and I could barely keep my head off the table. Wagamama is one of those places that has long communal tables, but they may be rethinking that idea after this...

Woman (in neighbouring group): Excuse me, what are you eating?
Scooter: Well this is #32, the noodles with chicken--
Zander (waking up for 5 seconds): Hi, I'm black.
Domini: Oh my god, why are you telling her that??
Zander: Cause maybe she wants some of this for dinner.


I'm impressed that I was that clever in that condition. My friends were absolutely horrified. Although I will admit her comeback was pretty good too:

Woman: Um thanks, I think I'll stick to the menu.


Of course I'd already passed out on the table again, so I'm not even sure her comeback counts. But yeah, point of all this is that I'm uber cool.

On Your Marks, Get Set, Drink

Right, so as expected, Melbourne Cup was awesome. The way that any day where my memory stops working around 4pm is awesome.

Things I do remember (and wish I didn't) from yesterday's lunch with my boss and clients:

• Talking way too much (so unlike me)
• Telling black jokes, just in case there was anyone left in Sydney who wasn't aware of the difference between a black man and a pizza
• Saying something that resulted in my boss calling me a bitch

By the time I went to meet up with friends I was BLIND, which resulted in many emails this morning starting with "OMG alex you were soooooo smashed, it was hilarious". Why a grown man not being able to walk upright or speak clearly is hilarious is beyond me, but I'll just take it as a compliment anyway.

I also had to email a friend with the following message: "Hey what happened last night? Did I see you?"

ANYWAY, I'm just happy that Emla and Dom got to see this miracle of Aussie life. They are still having trouble understanding why everyone leaves their offices and gets drunk on a Tuesday when we don't actually have any kind of a proper holiday, but I can tell they like the thought of it.

How The Hell...

I pulled a shirt out of a pile in my bedroom last night and it had a massive tear in one of the sleeves. As in, the entire elbow was missing from the left arm.

I'm pretty sure I wore it out drinking last week, so now I have to wonder how much of that night I was stumbling around looking homeless, and how I didn't notice this AT ALL.

Ugh, whatever. It's Cup Day, and I'm thrilled because my client had the foresight to invite me and my boss to an "Account Planning Lunch" that just so happens to last all afternoon and the location is a bar.

Still loving this country.

"I think there's a Pussycat Doll inside of all of us."

Well the girls are here, and within 7 hours of getting them from the airport, about 20 of us were ordering bottles of wine (three at a time, to keep up with consumption) at Cruise Bar with a view of the Opera House. Random recollections:

• I think I should first mention that it's been a while since I've had people around who incessantly make fun of me (to my face, anyway), so having the girls make fun of the way I talk now -- apparently like a "British fairy"-- has been a rather humbling experience.
• My friends here in Sydney are pretty loud, stupid and obnoxious (strange that we get along so well, eh?), but it usually takes a few drinks before they start to show their true colours. So they seemed a bit shocked when the girls and I showed up and didn't even need a whiff of white wine before we had other tables turning and giving us dirty looks.
• I knew it would happen at some point, but having Emla outgross Derek (usually the most vile out of anyone in the group) was definitely a shining moment.
• Oh that's right -- Derek trying to kick in the door when Scooter was in a bathroom stall at the bar. And then wondering why everyone is terrified of being around him.
• I am so sick of Domini asking me "What is that in American dollars?" that I now give her the price of everything in gold nuggets. Well, my best estimate, anyway. Honestly woman, just buy it or don't.
• Also sick of her asking me several times a day "What time is it in New York right now?" Stock answer at this point? "August."
• Emla has had major trouble hearing since she got here. The thing is, she insists on repeating what she thinks she heard, even though that's clearly not what I said. "WHAT?? HE'S A CARROT?!?" Yes, dear, that's it. He's a carrot. You moron.
• Then again I do say weird things. We were talking about bruises, and inexplicably said "Oh I never bruise. I'm an abusive husband's wet dream." Apparently that was "not right". WHATEVER. It's true.
  
• It's really nice having Dom here, because she's actually louder and more offensive than I am. Yesterday, she managed to yell the word "cock" directly into a stroller carrying a baby. TWICE.

And that's most of what I can remember. I actually didn't make the girls drink yesterday (although I did find it necessary to treat myself to a $25 glass of champagne, don't ask me why) and I will probably give them today off as well since tomorrow is Melbourne Cup Day, and should be a sufficient mess to make up for it.

Should Have Been There

Had things been different, I would have been extremely depressed this week. I was supposed to be in NYC this week for Halloween, and to meet up with my mother. I had expressly bought my ticket for these reasons, however with the new job I thought it more prudent to skip that trip and go back at another time, as much as it pained me. A few of my friends from Sydney and New Zealand were in NY this week, and between their text messages and even a partner in my office flying up there the other day, I was just plain jealous.

To twist the knife a little further, everyone back in NY sent me their Halloween pictures, which was a bittersweet experience. My favourite was probably this one:


Jeff & Joe and their chicks dressed as Mexicans climbing over fences and border security. Because no one I know has any idea how to put together a costume that isn't ridiculously offensive in one way or another. (I even had my whole "slave" costume planned out this year, with rags, shackles, and cotton balls stuck to my hands. And perhaps a white guy in a suit with a whip behind me.) Better yet, when Joe & Jeff were approached at a party by REAL MEXICANS, they attempted to claim that their little getup was sharp political satire. They are now recovering from stab wounds in a Brooklyn hospital, send flowers.

The closest we came to celebrating Halloween here was a friend leaving the bar last night and coming back wearing a kilt and a fake vagina underneath. Thanks dude, that was just...enlightening. Really.


But back to my original point...after all that, I am NOT depressed. Why? Because it is 6.16am here in Sydney and in one hour I am leaving my place to go and get Emla and Domini FROM THE AIRPORT. Australia is about to witness 10 days of wickedness that will go down in the annals (hehe) of history. Or maybe just my blog. Whatever, I bet we manage to break the opera house or something.

Oh For The Love...

You know, I was pretty sure that going to our upcoming Kylie Minogue concert was one of the gayest things that anyone could do. However, that has all been overshadowed by an email I just got from Ticketmaster:

This is your chance to sing-a-long to the most successful movie musical of all time and enjoy one of the funniest nights out you will have for a long time.

Sing-a-long-a Sound of Music is not just a chance to see the classic movie on the big screen; it's a major audience participation event with subtitles for the songs.

Sing along with Julie! Wave your Edelweiss! Dance in the gazebo with Liesl! Bark at Rolf and join in earnest choruses of My Favourite Things! Audiences have dressed up as everything from Maria, Girls in White Dresses (With Blue Satin Sashes), a range of Alps, Lonely Goat Herders, the Baroness and even Ray, a Drop of Golden Sun!

So get in the Habit and enjoy Sing-a-long-a Sound of Music!

If ANYONE I know goes to this, even the gayest guy I know, I will personally inflict major bodily harm on them. For shame.

Twist My Arm

I was really set on not drinking this week. After having such a retarded weekend, I figured the least I could do is wait until Friday work drinks to start torturing my liver again.

So yesterday I was walking out of work, heading to the supermarket so I could have a quiet night in watching some TV with my flatmate. No such luck. Before I'd even made it out of my building I got a call from someone asking me to come for a drink. And of course 6 hours later I was having trouble standing up in the third bar of the night.

And probably the saddest part of it all was that I actually left my friends behind for an hour at 8.30pm so I could go over to Ellen's place and watch the latest episode of America's Next Top Model. Of course at this point I can't remember what happened on the show, and according to Ellen I sat on the couch spilling white wine all over myself and making incoherent remarks about nothing. Pure class.

Now it's Thursday evening and I've actually managed to make it home without getting drunk and offending anyone (an apology email to a friend was necessary when I got to work this morning, of course) so I'm rather proud of myself. I plan to sit here and watch RR/RW Challenge because they have FINALLY started airing the Fresh Meat season and Coral makes my world go round.

Smart Girl

For any of you familiar with the entertaining links to the right on this blog, you probably get a good chuckle out of Go Fug Yourself. The girls who write it are the ultimate bitches, the posts tend to be absolutely hilarious, and who doesn't enjoy laughing at celebrities every now and then.

Generally I read it and laugh because they're spot on, and at the same time I think they have a tendency to nit-pick at really minor fashion mistakes or bad choices, as if we haven't all done this at one time or another (then again, most of us don't pay a stylist tens of thousands of dollars a year to dress us, but that's neither here nor there).

However today I clicked over to check out the latest updates, and was faced with this monstrosity:


I actually exclaimed "WHAT THE FUCK?!" in the office, and consequently spent the next 8 minutes explaining to everyone in the vicinity why I was so shocked and what GFY is all about. But really, the only reason anyone would put on something so ridiculous is expressly to get some attention. She could wear the most beautiful dress in the world but would be ignored because she's a D-list celebrity, if even. You just KNOW this is going to make worst-dressed lists around the world.

So all I can say is, well-played, my dear.

Setting New Records For Myself

Idiot that I am, I went into this weekend declaring that I wanted it to be "a quiet one". Friday night wasn't too bad -- went to work drinks in the courtyard below my building, then went to a stand-up show, and then headed to a friends place where I drank my bottle of wine and went home before midnight. All well and good.

On Saturday, however, things took a turn for the worst:

8:34am -- Get a text message from a friend asking if anyone is "up for some brekkie beers?" I wisely decline, texting back only "You are digusting."

1.26pm -- As I'm settling down on my couch to watch music videos or something equally vapid for a few hours to kill time before the party I'm meant to go to that night, I get a phone call from the same friend. Would I like to meet them at a bar? I can't think of a real reason not to, and start to get dressed.

2.08pm -- Arrive at the bar and get started on the schooners of beer.

6.17pm -- Keep exclaiming how surprisingly sober I feel until I get up to go to the bathroom and have trouble navigating the stairs. Also, start running my mouth and telling stories I'd be better off keeping to myself.

7.41pm -- Arrive at a friends place with my two bottles of wine to continue drinking.

7.53pm -- Look on as we decide to give someone a drunken buzzcut. Point out that someone should have asked what part of someone else's body that particular pair of clippers is usually used on. Regret my observation when the truth is revealed.

9.06pm -- Not quite sure what was happening by this point, but I think I was looking so messy that everyone told me I had to go upstairs and have a lie down.

10.36pm -- Wake up very confused. Walk straight out of the apartment saying only "I'm fucked. I need to go home."

10:39pm -- Call my coworker who I was supposed to meet at a party and tell her that I'm too drunk to attend. She says I should come. I say "Okay." Twist my arm!

10:54pm -- Arrive at party completely smashed and start on some more beer. Meet lots of people whose faces I will never remember.

* * * SCENES MISSING -- CUT TO SUNDAY * * *

11:57am -- Wake up in a drunken stupor. Begin trying every trick I know to try and sober myself up (water, vitamins, a shower, sugary drinks, etc.) to no avail. Wander between my couch and the bed trying to decide where I want to be found dead.

2.41pm -- Get a text message from someone asking if I want to join them at Dolphin Bar. Decide I want to die in a bar, get dressed (with some difficulty) and head over for a few beers.

7:12pm -- Body ceasing to function. Go home and get into bed.


So yeah, based on conversations on Monday, it seems I was drinking for a solid fifteen hours. Considering that, I'd like to say that it's not like I was kicked out of a bar or woke up in a gutter somewhere, so I'm actually a little proud of myself. And not doing it again anytime soon, sweet jesus.

I also heard a great story that made me feel MUCH better about anything I could possibly have done. Apparently after I left work drinks on Friday, a guy from corporate tax decided it would be a good idea to dive into the courtyard fountain in front of the entire company. At like 7.30pm. Now, doesn't my weekend sound tame in comparison?

Note To Self...

...dignified moments and drinking for 15 consecutive hours do not go hand in hand.

More on this once I have time to collect and compile everything I'm hearing about the tragic mess that was my weekend.

Thursday Drinking Can Hurt

Fridays are supposed to be glorious days where you wake up and celebrate the end of the week with some extra pep in your step. Today is not glorious, and all I really want to do is step right back into bed. I feel like crap thanks to a nasty little hangover that I suppose I gave myself, so I'll stop whining now.

The awesome thing about last night was bonding with a friend of a friend who is remarkably similar to me. Way too much energy, always takes the offensive joke that one step too far, and even has a ridiculous laugh that people can hear a mile away. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a very very bad thing, but he may have to be invited to everything I ever do from this point forward. Onlookers were horrified and we loved it.

I'm also impressed how certain jokes or stories that probably should never have happened in the first place can become the theme of an entire evening. Last night's theme? Incest. Good times, people, good times.

"I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one"

So last night was the long-awaited Jay-Z/Rihanna/Ne-yo concert. I took my camera but have yet to figure out how to make it work properly at night when there are lights everywhere, so instead of my blurry images, I've just grabbed some stuff off the web until Stephanie sends through her pictures. In the meantime, here's my review:

Ne-yo

I will give the man credit. He has a great voice and put on a great show. I still couldn't be paid to sit through one of his sappy music videos or overplayed songs on the radio, but at least I have a little more respect for him. I'm sure he's thrilled. My only major complaint is that half of his backup dancers were rather unattractive, and one of them was just scary to look at. Seriously, she had some Shanaynay shit going on (Aussies, please excuse the Martin reference if you're not familiar). Great dancer but she needs to go.

Rihanna

This chick is lucky she looked absolutely gorgeous on stage, because that was easily the most inconsistent live performance I have ever seen. She came out to do "Pon De Replay" and seemed rather erratic when choosing which lyrics she would bother lip-synching to. But then her next few songs were live and she sounded great. And then she did "We Ride", which is bad enough being the bland song that it is, but once again, horrible lip-synching. Very average, and seriously lacking in stage presence. Not that I imagined her to be the next Tina Turner or anything, but she could have tried just a little harder.

Jay-Z

There is absolutely no reason that a guy standing on stage in a white t-shirt, jeans and sunnies should be so ridiculously entertaining, but Jay-Z just is. This is my second time seeing him in concert, and I don't think I've ever seen anyone able to get a crowd so excited. I will admit that I wasn't remotely familiar with at least 2 songs that he performed, but it really didn't matter. And before you go thinking that I'm just another mindless hip-hop fan, I think most rappers SUCK (Eminem is painfully overrated, and don't even get me started on the crap that is someone like 50 Cent) but Jay-Z has got it.


Minor complaints:

• I still don't think I can hear properly in my left ear. I love turning up the bass and all, but that was just a little unnecessary. My pancreas was vibrating.
• The girl behind me who decided to call each of her friends to scream "Omigod Neyo is on stage can you hear him?!?!?" and proceeded to start the same routine when Rihanna came on before I turned around and shot her my look of death.
• Something about the guy in front of me annoyed me. I'm not quite sure if it was his G-Unit t-shirt or his backwards Yankee cap (when I'm guessing he has never had a job long enough to afford a trip to New York), but I kind of wanted to punch him in the neck.

More Spastic Thoughts

I'm not feeling very capable right now when it comes to coherent blog posts, so I'm just gonna spit out the next few random things that float through my mind:

• Despite looking and feeling like death on Monday evening, I had Team America over to watch Grey's Anatomy and made the Cheddar Baked Chicken with rice pilaf and broccoli, and it was AWESOME. Seriously, how I have not been snatched up as someone's pampered boy toy yet will never cease to amaze me. I'm such a catch.
• After a few too many beers last night I got home and insisted on attempting to eat some of the leftovers from the previous night. Got as far as loading up the rice cooker and then promptly passed out. My flatmate arrived home to me lying half naked on the couch, probably drooling on myself, with the rice already gone cold. Things like this should probably serve as a reminder of why I'm single. But they don't. I'm such a catch.
• Part of my horoscope today: "Despite all evidence to the contrary, you do not have all the answers all the time." Uh yeah, whatever. I never believed in that zodiac crap anyway, they clearly don't know what they are talking about. Just saw another one though that said "Declare yourself no longer available to those who make messes in your life and refuse to clean them up." I like that one. It means I should be a bitch.
  
• Have tickets for the Jay-Z/Rihanna/Neyo concert tonight, which I've been looking forward to for weeks now. Better yet, Beyonce is in town as well and it's rumoured that she will be jumping on stage for a couple of numbers. Which might make up for the fact that Rihanna will probably sing that awful "Unfaithful" song. That song makes me want to cut my ears off.
  
• Even though my head might already explode from the excitement of knowing that Domini and Emla will be here in a week and a half (and I assure you that afternoon drinks are already planned for the day they arrive), Domini tried to put me over the edge today by informing me that she will be meeting me in Paris for New Years. Now where did I put my Dirty French Phrases handbook...
  

Why I Am Moving To Canada

Because Emla was kind enough to send through this link and alerted me to the existence of a Top Model even more craptastic than the Australian version.

Who wants to share a place with me in Vancouver?

Try Not To Fall Asleep

Well I'm horribly embarrassed to tell you all that I had a rather quiet weekend. I feel like I did plenty of stuff, but only had a few drinks on Friday and Saturday nights, and didn't really get enough booze in me to act like total asstard that we all know I can be.

Of course the drunkest I got was on Sunday afternoon/evening, because that makes so much sense. So now it's Monday afternoon, I might want to die just a little bit because I'm so tired, and I was reminded late in the day that I promised to make dinner for Team America tonight. Fan-fuckin-tastic.

I'm pretty sure my productivity today was close to zero, and would be negative if you count all the time I spent distracting coworkers so I could avoid my own work. However I did just print out a lovely sounding recipe for Cheddar Baked Chicken. Can I bill that to the client?

Will be sure to drink like a moron during the week to make up for the lameness, pinky swear.

Random Friday Thoughts

• We were hoping to do India for two weeks around New Years, but those plans have fallen through (oh to think of the statues I would have defiled) and won't happen for another 6 months or so. Since I have a weird thing about having to be away from where I live at New Years, I've just booked a 2 week trip to France to visit my mother for Christmas and maybe do Paris for New Years Eve. I'm still pretty appalled that I had to pay $3000 just to get there, but the excitement is balancing that out.
• Was drinking at the Coogee Bay Hotel last night (yet again) and somehow ended up making a rather vile joke about a fetus giving head that I only half laughed at because I was kind of bothered by the fact that I had made it. If that wasn't disturbing enough, I have a vague recollection of having that conversation with someone before. Eww.
• Back to travel plans -- since I won't have to take any vacation days for my France trip (most big companies here close for 2 weeks around the holidays, including mine) I am now considering a 10 day trip back to NY at the end of January. Which is another $2000, but once again, probably worth it. If only spending money was a profession. I'd be an industry leader.
• We're a few weeks behind on the latest season of America's Next Top Model here, but I really have to say -- I'm a big fan of gimmicks and all, but there is NO excuse for those hideous twins being on the show. They are actually ugly, they have revolting bodies, and I can't imagine plastic surgery would be enough to warrant them even making the semi-finals, forget the actual show. God I hope they don't last too long -- although I am looking forward to the dramatics surrounding when one of them gets kicked off before the other.

Still Evaluating...

No major complaints about my job so far. I'm halfway through week 6 and all seems to be going as smoothly as possible. Still, I'm trying to objectively evaluate everything about it, since I don't want to be one of those people who thinks their job is the most amazing thing ever until they get a rude awakening. Latest observations...

The Good

I've never really travelled for business before, so yesterday's trip down to the Melbourne office for a couple of meetings was interesting. At first the thought of flying there in the morning and back in the evening just sounded like a huge hassle, but it's amazing how much smoother everything seems when you know that every taxi or change in flights and everything in between can just go on the corporate card. In short...it was kinda fun, just a long commute that allowed me to drink a few half liters of wine on the way home. I'm all for it!

The Bad

Of course this should be expected in a big corporate environment, but it still amazes me how many numbers they expect me to enter into various systems every week for god knows what reasons. Granted, any company should keep detailed records of all money spent and hours worked and all that, but it's gotten to the point where I sit around transferring money from one project to another and have no idea why. You want me to reduce the what for the who now? You know what, I don't know why and I'm pretty sure I would need a PhD to understand it, but there, it's done.

The Ugly

Went to the bathroom today and as I walked past the stalls I'm pretty sure there was a guy in one of them on a conference call. I have enough issues with people who are gross enough to be on the phone while taking care of their bodily functions, but a conference call?? Honestly dude, if you need to drop a deuce that badly, you should consider just dialling into the meeting a few minutes late. Eww.

Yes, I Know

Another weekend, another drunken dance party at someone's apartment and various inappropriate comments. Although I would like to get at least one pat on the back for not drinking on Saturday. That might be a first.

The only thing I felt the need to blog about was the fact that people seem to forget how loud I am. On Sunday someone came back from the bathroom at a noisy pub and was shocked that they could hear me laugh from the toilets when the bathroom is in the back and on another floor.

Listen people, I know. I'm loud when I'm sober, louder when I'm drunk, and my laugh is unmistakable. People have located us at a picnic in the park from a half mile away because they hear my voice. And I'm okay with that. I just don't understand why people are surprised.

In other news it's 5.36am but I actually have a good reason to be awake at such a ridiculous time for once -- have to catch a 7am flight to Melbourne for work. And this is the time of day when they play ridiculous music videos. Currently showing? "Boom Boom Boom" by the Outhere Brothers. How can you not love a song with the lyrics "Girl yo booty is so brown, I just wanna play around". Huh what? Brilliant.

Oh no Debbie Gibson just came on...I need to go shower. Apologies for the fragmented post.

Old Age Is Setting In

When I was young, I was the kid who could see the school bus coming from a mile away. When no one else could read the street sign, I would proudly announce what it was well before anyone else had a clue. I had better than 20/20 vision. Those were the days.

Those days are long gone.

I've noticed my eyesight deteriorating for a couple of years now -- the obvious consequence of sitting in front of a computer monitor for more than a few hours a day. However I had hoped I had a few more years before the damage was so bad that I really needed to get it checked out. And it happens gradually enough that you don't necessarily realize how bad it might be.

But of course, there is always that moment. Mine was the other night where I was at Ellen's place and we brought up the cable on-screen TV guide and I could barely read it. It was pathetic, the squinting and leaning forward just so I could see that there was nothing I wanted to watch anyway. Ellen spotted this and handed me her glasses. Oh. My. God. It was like a flashback to the days when I didn't need to have someone standing within a few feet before I could recognize them. Everything was clearer than I even imagined they could be again. It was a little bit of a shock.

So I think I've already reached the point where I need to do something about it. Sad, but I need to accept that. The major problem I'm having with this is this: I didn't want to get glasses until I was 30. You see, I decided over a year ago that in order to deal with hitting the big 3-0, I would simply have a "theme" for my thirties that would make the whole thing more bearable. The one I have already settled on is "sophistication". In contrast to my "roaring twenties", my sophisticated thirties would involve less drunkeness in bars and more drunkeness at lovely dinner parties, to give you an example. And part of all that would be that I would get glasses that make me look mature, intelligent and sophisticated.

I think you see my problem -- if I get the glasses 3 years early, then I feel like I need to come up with a whole new theme for my thirties, and that's just a lot of brainstorming when I'd rather be drinking.

"But wait", you say. "Why not wear contacts until you're 30 and then make the switch to glasses?" Well folks, that is a lovely idea, believe me. But I am one of those people who can't even get eye drops in his eye because I flinch so much. Most of the eye drops end up on my neck or somewhere equally useless. And this is a genetic thing. My mother will practically faint if she even has to watch someone do anything with their contacts, and my brother spent hours at an optometrists office trying to get contacts in his eyes before they gave up and said he should just stick with the glasses.

So this is my dilemma. If you have any ideas, I am desperate for them right now. DESPERATE.

I Am Easily Influenced

The other day I was reminded of the huge difference between my old job and this new one.


Old Job

I accomplish something impressive. It goes unnoticed, but the company directors do manage to find time to make it very clear that it's my fault that someone else did something wrong even though I knew absolutely nothing about it and couldn't have done anything even if I had known.


New Job

I accomplish something somewhat impressive (but really just part of the job). The client praises me on a conference call, my director circulates how fantastic I am to the team, and a few days later I get a huge gift box from the client including chocolates, cheese biscuits, and a bottle of wine, among other things. They also buy me drinks one afternoon to top it all off.


Not that I'm going to expect this sort of treatment on a regular basis, but I am so tempted to email this post to my old bosses.

I'm Such A Lady But I'm Dancin' Like A Ho

Can't be bothered with fancy writing and context, so here's the highlight reel from my weekend:

• Me spilling a full glass of wine on a friend's laptop. They love it when you do that.
• After having my friend point out her cousin at the bar who I hadn't met yet, walking up to him and demanding he get me a beer as well without actually introducing myself. Best part -- he totally bought one for me.
• Being a complete bitch for a solid hour after getting to my friend's apartment for sunset drinks, just because I was in a bad mood and I could get away with it.
• Auds dancing with an iron, and managing to look sexy as hell doing it.
• Me yanking down my pants in the middle of the party, reportedly because Louise said I should. I'm apparently very obedient when I have two bottles of wine in me.
• This one is just a piece of advice -- if you want to set someone up with a friend of yours, you might want to make sure he hasn't been drinking heavily on an empty stomach for 8 hours beforehand. Your friend will NOT be impressed.
• And after a hellishly drunken Saturday night that ended at a time I couldn't tell you if you pointed a gun at my head, I was naturally at a bar by 1pm the next day. (When a friend from Saturday night called that afternoon and my flatmate told her where I was, she ACTUALLY started saying "No. No no no NO NO NO! That's impossible!!") Of course I got a few beers in and it felt like my insides were melting, so I called it a day around 5pm and headed home for a quiet evening in.

That's all...sorry it's a bit short, but I don't remember much and I'm not sure I want to hear any more at this point. I'm sure you all understand.

You Know You Had A Good Weekend When...

...you log onto your computer at work on Monday morning and this is the first instant message conversation you have:

Friend: So why exactly did you pull down your pants on Saturday night?

Zander: oh shit. i totally forgot about that. not sure, but i'm sure i had a really good reason

Friend: Like what?

Zander: i don't remember...lemme email some people and get back to you on that

A more detailed update coming once I've talked to a couple of other people who might actually remember anything from this weekend, because god knows I don't.

And The Rest Of The Weekend...

Right, should have taken care of this a day or two ago.

So, other than Friday, I unfortunately don't have any photographic evidence of my dumbassery. Saturday gave me time to finally go see The Devil Wears Prada, which made me ridiculously homesick. Not just because it was all set in NY, but god I miss those bitchy NY attitudes sometimes.

That night, we headed to a restaurant we'd been meaning to try for a while because the food is supposed to be amazing. But honestly, screw the food. I mean it was good, but I literally shriek with delight when I find a place in Australia that has "free pour", which means they ignore the retarded laws they have here (and in the UK) that only allow 30ml (one shot) of alcohol in a mixed drink. We started off with a few of those each, and all I can say is that I apologize to the people at the next table who had to listen to the conversations that we came up with after the 4th caipirinha.

And Sunday of course was the big booze-a-thon starting at 2pm, and ending when people started breaking glasses, disappearing without saying goodbye, and being denied entry to bars. I won't bother counting down EVERYTHING here, but I will make note of my favourite line of the day:

"Oh my god, I saw the HOTTEST mannequin the other day!"

Yeah seriously dude...you need to get some professional help. You weren't even drunk when you said that.

Thank God The 'Fashion Police' Aren't Real

Friday night set off the long weekend in appropriate style. Or maybe I should say inappropriate style. I met up with a few friends so we could go get dressed up for a costume party (called "a fancy dress party" here, for some reason) where the theme was The Next Big Thing In Fashion. I originally claimed I didn't like the theme, but it pretty much guaranteed that everyone would show up looking like a complete twat.

Things about this night that were so so wrong:

• Our outfits. We were probably one of the more ridiculously dressed groups of people to show up. I, for example, ended up wearing a tight red little sleeveless baby tee, with a fuzzy purple shrug and my jeans backwards (not my idea).
• My friend claiming she was fine to drive us there because she'd only had the one glass of wine, and promptly knocking over the motorcycle parked behind her on the street.
• Having to walk by about 7 restaurants between the car park and the bar we were heading to. Only thing we could do was hold our heads high and pretend there weren't hundreds of people staring at us thinking 'WTF?'
• Me getting drunk and realizing that wearing jeans backwards is uncomfortable, so kicking off my sneakers, pulling the jeans off and putting them on correctly. In the middle of the dancefloor.
  
• Some guy seriously walking up to me and saying "Do you want to follow me to the toilets?" Uh buddy, I realize everyone is drunk and I'm dressed like a cracked out fashionista wannabe, but that's inappropriate. Of course with him still standing there I immediately turned to my friend and YELLED out what the guy had just said to me while pointing at him. And then turned back and said "That's a no." True he's disgusting, but I'm not sure that sort of public humilation was warranted.
• And of course karma is a bitch. I decided to head home before everyone else, so I'm walking down the street dressed like god knows what, and managed to walk SMACK into a pole, face first, while eating a slice of pizza. The only witnesses were three bouncers at a bar nearby, who were all laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. Fair enough.

Anyway that about wraps that night up. But here are some photos to give you an idea of the level of trashiness at the party:

Oooh, Did HR Hear That??

Last night was the first time that I'd really gotten a bit drunk with my new coworkers. I always love that, because it's when people start to make a little more sense to you, because they have a few drinks in them and let their guard down a little.

My favourite moment was one of them asking me where my parents were from, and after saying that my father was Jamaican another one says "Oh so that explains your permanent tan." Uh yeah, I guess so.

And I suppose that's all a good start to the weekend. We have Monday off, so among other things there is a major boozing session starting at 2pm on Sunday which is sure to stir up a few stories for this blog by next week...

Nature Sucks

It's 5.30am and I've been up for almost an hour because it sounds like someone decided to blast a CD that may or may not be titled Most Annoying Bird Cheeps 2006 right outside my bedroom window. Honestly, if I was a bird and I made that sound, I would have flown head first into a tall glass building ages ago.

But...at least I have recently found a reason for getting up in the mornings. A week or two ago I started taking a different bus route to work, and I am amazed on a daily basis how many certified hotties take that same bus to work every morning. I maybe get through about two pages of my book a day because I'm so busy gawking at every other person that gets on the bus. One of these days when it's really crowded I might just ask one if they want to sit on my lap.

Even better, there don't seem to be any of the complete bus-tards that pissed me off so much that I had to blog about them a couple of months back. And I am a happier man because of it.

Permanent Damage? Already?

I have to admit that I thought it would be a few more years before I would have to deal with the effects of alcohol abuse. However last night was a little scary. I headed over to a friend's place for dinner since they had graciously invited me over for a home cooked meal. As she slaved away over the stove, she said "Hey Zander, do you mind getting out the plates?" Not a problem, right? Five minutes later...

Friend: Zander. I asked you to do ONE THING.
Zander: What?! I got out the plates!
Friend: How many?
Zander: Three!
Friend: And how many people are in the room?
Zander: Oh.


And she was left to get the fourth plate out herself. All because I can no longer count. Damn you, beer!! (Sorry, I take that back...please forgive me)

That's More Like It

The only word I can use to describe this weekend is messy. I can count on one hand the number of hours I was sober between 4pm on Friday and Monday morning.


Friday

Started with champagne and beer in the office with coworkers. If only the night could have remained that civilized.

5 bars, 3 groups of friends, and eleventy drinks later, a bunch of us ended up at the trashiest place I can ever be convinced to go in Sydney. At least two members of the group had a bit of a cry for a minute (one had been dumped, the other had to watch their favourite sports team lose), but ended up dancing the night away otherwise. Which could have been embarrassing for those individuals but fortunately that was overshadowed by everyone else creating more than a little drama for themselves, the details of which I don't even want to hear about anymore.


Saturday

Since half of the people from the previous night weren't talking to each other at this point, I opted to head to a birthday BBQ at Coogee beach. It was about 33 degrees (about 90F) and some beach time was clearly in the cards.

Headed home between the BBQ and a few bars. Was only supposed to shower, change and head out, but a few of us ended up having an impromptu dance party right here in my livingroom to get in the mood.

The night ended around midnight for me, which may sound a bit tame, but it was 10 hours of drinking so I'm not going to be ashamed. And at least I didn't head home before I had been flashed by a friend wearing a kilt and a g-string. Which might have been more shocking if we hadn't all seen him buck naked 3 weekends ago, with the pictures to prove it.


Sunday

Did someone say we should start drinking at 2pm again? Oh, good. It was a friend's birthday (seriously, everyone I know here was born in September) and we ended up at Paddington Bowling Club for some lawn bowls. However I decided that was way too much sport for me about three rounds in, and set up shop on a bench in the sun with a jug of beer.

Eventually ended up at the Coogee Bay Hotel, where loud and offensive conversations are the only type permitted. I ridiculed a couple of Canadians ("Oh my god, it's like 12 people and a bunch of trees. You shouldn't even be a country. Losers."), told off a couple of friends, and headed home around 9 in the hopes of avoiding another Monday at work where I am clearly staring at the Sydney Opera House because I'm too hungover to focus on work.


The best part is that between the weather and my current mood, I'm thinking this will be my standard weekend for at least a month. And THEN Emla and Domini will get here, so it's only a matter of weeks before I'm deported. Let the countdown begin.

Funny That

Who would have thought that drinking 7 schooners of beer and chasing it with a big Indian dinner would leave me feeling not so hot at 3.40am? Never would have seen it coming.

In other news, I am bored at the moment (probably related to it being not even 4 in the morning on a Thursday) and took a look at my blog stats. Trying to decide who I feel more sorry for based on the following search terms by which they found my blog:

"i can only work when i am drunk"

"why am i still conscious blood alcohol level high"


I would probably say the first guy, since the second one can't be that bad if he can still use Google.

Okay that is all, I clearly need to go back to bed.

All Quiet On The Home Front

Sorry for a lack of posting here, but to be honest I had a pretty quiet weekend. The only stupid thing I managed to do was get trashed all afternoon on Sunday, which made for an extremely unproductive Monday in the office. Thank god it's still my first month, when I'm not really expected to do much.

Will see if I can drum up some trouble for this week though...drinks tonight, anyone?

You Don't Care Anymore, But I Will Still Comment

So we're a whole season behind the US when it comes to Project Runway. Still, better late than never, I say.

The only problem with this was that when the last season finished, several bloggers that I read on a regular basis felt free to casually throw out the name of the winner without any regard to those of us who couldn't have watched it yet, not to mention the poor souls who may have TiVo'd it in the hopes of watching it a few days later. Honestly folks, if you insist on discussing something like that, that's up to you, but maybe a little warning. As in, does it have to be in the title or first sentence of your post? Anywhere else would have given me just enough notice to stop reading. This season has been just a little less enjoyable for me, and all because of you. How's that for a guilt trip? So just in case there is some poor child in Djibouti who reads my blog but might be a few weeks behind on season 2 of Project Runway (could happen!), I won't mention any details so far.

The one thing that I simply have to comment on though is the colour of Michael Kors' skin. I mean really, what the dick is he thinking, sitting there commenting on other people's sense of style or taste when he just looks like a big hairy mango in a suit? Unfortunately I couldn't find a picture that really represents what I'm talking about, I just know that he's become progressively more orange as the season has moved along. The other night he seriously was just this tangerine head with white teeth sitting on a human body. Maybe he has a beta carotene problem, I don't know. But it's unfortunate for everyone involved.

Working Girl

So I've just finished Day 2 at the new job. Naturally I still have no idea what's going on and have yet to lay my hands on any real work, but here are my first impressions:

This job will make me fat - No, really. I can't believe the amount of free food at my fingertips on a daily basis. If there's a meeting, there will be full catering. And at any time of the day there is a fridge on each floor full of soft drinks and what not, not to mention jars full of cookies, biscuits, and lord knows what else. (There's also fruit, but who are we kidding here?) Considering it took me years to go from drinking 6 cans of Coke a day to having one a week or less, I'm pretty upset that I'm was sitting at my desk drinking one just because it was free and within reach.

There are SO many people here - Perhaps a naive observation, especially considering that I specifically wanted to come work at a large company. But it's odd knowing that I will NEVER recognize everyone even on my floor, forget the entire Sydney office of 1200 people. And at least when you know everyone you can laugh off things like pouring water down the front of your pants on your second day. Now I'm surrounded by strangers who just look at me like an idiot.

What do you mean I have to account for my time? - Possibly one of the scariest things I'll have to do while I'm here is fill in a weekly timesheet, which companies like this make every single person do, from support up to directors. Sorry, but considering how easily distracted I am, there is going to be a lot of time that I am going to have to pretend I used doing something else. But that seems to be the general practice, so I guess I will simply need to get over my guilt at the thought of billing clients for more time than we actually used. (Or I could just be more focused...I'll give that shot too, promise.)

To drink or not to drink - I guess this isn't different from most other offices, especially in Australia, but I have to say that having an HR policy that says you should never be drunk on company premises is a little confusing when there are clearly cases of beer, Bacardi Breezers and wine stacked so high in the kitchen you'd think they were preparing for the last party on Earth. And I've been advised that 4.30pm on Fridays is when everyone in my division goes to a conference room and drinks until they feel like heading out to a bar. Mixed signals, anyone? At least my previous company had us continue to pretend to do work while we drank on Friday afternoons.

In the end I'm not complaining though. True, the 4 hours of training on my first morning was mind-numbingly boring, but it was expected. And now I'm sitting at a desk where I just have to turn my head to the left and I have a view of the Sydney Opera House, which mostly makes up for no longer having a big office to myself. And let's face it, it's the second day of this gig, so I won't really know if I like it or not until I'm a good 6 months in. I won't even try to contemplate how many biscuits, cans of Coke, and alcoholic beverages they will force me to consume in that time, but there's a good chance I won't be the picture of health by the time I'm done at this company...

A Day At The Races

Went to the races for the first time yesterday. It's a big thing here in Australia, but I've never managed to get my act together and figure out how it all works. Fortunately Stephanie's boss gave her his member's tickets so I finally had an excuse.



We decided to start the day off right with a bottle of champagne. Because betting on horses when you're sober just can't be as much fun.





We also tried a glass of wine, which was seriously disgusting. I actually couldn't drink it. Back to the Chandon, thank you very much.





Steph and I were pretty buzzed after a couple of hours. Hence this being one of the many pictures we took of ourselves.







Part of the tradition at the races here is for all of the women to wear "interesting" dresses and silly hats. Honestly, the girls at Go Fug Yourself would have had such a field day here.








We were making fun of this woman and her crazy hat, and then ended up talking to her for a bit. Turned out she was Nuyorican, she's gorgeous, and clearly rich. Not to mention really nice. We almost felt bad for making fun of her hat. Almost.



This was another one of my favourites for the day. Apart from being dressed like a lunatic, this woman actually was insane. She was yelling at her husband in the middle of the room while he just rolled his eyes at her, which makes me think she does this on a regular basis.






And here I have a picture of me holding the ticket for my $5 bet that won me $45. How did I manage that? By picking a horse that was by far a long shot to even place, BUT it's name was My Lady's Chamber, which I decided was simply too dirty NOT to bet on. The horse came in 2nd somehow, and my strategy of picking horses based on name alone was reinforced.



And that's pretty much the wrap up. I ended the day up $80, which almost covered all the booze I drank in the 4 hours we were there. And we are definitely going back.

Lazy Days

So it's the last weekday off before I start the new job on Monday. I have to admit, while I've really enjoyed this time to sit around and do nothing for a couple of weeks, any more time would have driven me insane. A few random thoughts that occurred to me while being a lazy bastard...

• It is SO easy to see how a lot of rich people who don't work become alcoholics. Take yesterday's conversation, for example:

Zander: Bleh, I'm bored. What should we do?
Ellen: Uh...take a walk?
Zander: Nah, don't feel like going outside.
Ellen: Me neither. Should we get a bottle of wine?
Zander: It's only 2pm.
Ellen: So?
Zander: Good point.

• I've also come to appreciate having a routine. Most days over the past couple of weeks I would wake up, IM/email with people back home, have some breakfast, and then go back to bed. Then maybe go meet some people for lunch, and spend the afternoon drinking at Ellen's place. However the other day I decided to just stay at home and hang out alone. I was going insane by 11am. So I have decided, a job is not always a bad thing.

• I will probably never live alone. The Flattie has been gone for the whole time I've been between jobs, and while it was great to have the place to myself for a small time, the novelty of it wore off after about a week and now I can't wait for her to get back on Sunday.

• Lastly, I generally hate shopping, but underwear shopping is just the worst. Because I can stand there staring at the boxes of briefs, boxers, and everything in between, and it makes no difference because I sure as hell won't look even half as good as the guys photographed on the front of each box. I bought some yesterday and tried them on this morning, and needless to say a well-defined six pack didn't suddenly show up to make them appear quite as hot as I'd hoped. Fortunately (I guess), it's not like there's a line of people waiting to see me in my undies, so there's no point in being too vain about it.

Plans for the weekend include, um, drinking, and a trip to the races tomorrow. The races are a big thing here, and in over a year I've never made it, so it should be fun to get into a suit and see all of the girls in their big silly hats and "colourful" dresses. Not only that but we have members seats from my friend's boss, which we're hoping means free booze from noon onward. Giddy up.