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.

Yay, I Still Have Teeth

It's been a long time since I shuddered at the thought of going to the dentist. There was a time when the idea of having someone poking around in my mouth with unfriendly looking metal tools almost made me want to cry, but over time my interest in having good dental hygiene has won out, and I simply look forward to having clean teeth.

This doesn't, however, mean that I like dentists. My main issue with them is how they are so intent on making their little disapproving sighs while looking through my mouth, trying to make me feel like I'm inept at brushing my teeth, even though I've been doing it for over 20 years. This is despite the fact that I brush and floss twice every day, and rinse with Listerine (although that part is made easier thanks to the alcohol content).

About three weeks ago I went for my regular 6 month checkup and cleaning, and the dentist told me that my gums didn't look healthy. And you've gotta LOVE that their test for this is to jab your gums with a pointy metal stick and say "Look! It's bleeding!" Uh yeah, asshole, let me introduce you to this thing called FLESH. So if I were to jab that little pointy metal stick into, oh I don't know, your ARM, it would bleed too. That's what it does. Chill out.

Of course it didn't help that I also had my first cavity that needed to be filled. So I went back for that this week, which was painless and didn't even require my mouth to be numbed, and apparently my gums are now "perfectly healthy", even though just three weeks ago they were supposedly ready to dissolve and let my teeth fend for themselves. I'm pretty sure they aren't impervious to sharp steel, but I'm not going to ask questions. I'm just going to make a mental note to find a new dentist within the next 6 months.

Drunk and Drunker

Good times this weekend, of course, but I will admit that Saturday night was simply an absolute shocker. I showed up a little late to sunset drinks on a friend's roof deck and I can only assume that some people had been drinking since sunset the previous night. I'm trying decide which of the following two friends was worse:

Friend #1 -- Was already incoherent by the time I arrived (at around 6pm, for christs sake), and would only speak at random times to say/slur things like "I love you all, but fuck you all", and nothing else. Got naked and jumped in the pool, and we have now officially seen far more of his anatomy than we had ever feared we might. Disappeared without saying goodbye, and out of concern we did check the gutters on William Street to make sure he hadn't passed out in one.

Friend #2 -- Not incoherent, but that might have been better. Although already known for his foul mouth and vile comments, he was in top form that night, enough so that I regretted bringing a new friend to the party. After numerous disgusting comments, he also stripped down and jumped in the pool, and then proceeded to walk around and pose wearing his shirt and nothing else. Oh wait, he was also wearing bright red high heels at one point. Passed out for about an hour, before waking up and attempting to sexually assault one of the late arrivals to the party.


My vote is for Friend #2, simply because he managed to make everyone so uncomfortable with his public sexual advances, however Friend #1 definitely gets points for not making an ounce of sense throughout the night.

I have pictures, but I won't blog them, mostly because some of them would probably get my blog shut down, and also because even I am not cruel enough to embarrass my friends on a public blog. I am, however, cruel enough to email said pictures out to anyone who may request them.

A Piece Of Motherf&#kin' Advice

We all love movie trailers/previews, and we love to comment on what will be in theaters in a few months. It's just what people do.

However, I am pretty sure that you waive your right to say things like "That movie looks so stupid." when you've just voluntarily sat down to watch Snakes On A Plane. I'm just sayin'.

My favourite line from the movie was definitely "I need to you to be strong. Now come on, let's get these people some air." Not quite as obvious as "I have had it with these motherfuckin' snakes on this motherfuckin' plane!" (or whatever it was, I really don't have time to be looking through IMDb for this crap) but clearly it stuck with me nonetheless.

Also, I have this weird thing where I am mostly comfortable swearing within my actual posts, but I feel the need to censor the titles. What's up with that?

I Am So Easily Amused...

...and rather upset that no one ever forwarded the following picture to me before this week:


God I love being mean to children. You just know it'll affect them for the rest of their little lives...