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: