Young & Stupid Again For One Night

I should probably apologize for not blogging in two weeks. But I won't.

On Saturday we did a long lunch at Firefly, which we'd scheduled ages ago. We had all been looking forward to it, and thanks to brilliant weather and a festive mood, we got stuck into the wine right away.

Thanks to acquiring an ounce of common sense at some point in the last year, I don't sit around drinking wine for hours at a time anymore because it turns me into a complete moron. But I somehow forgot this relatively new rule on Saturday, and by 10pm I had run into a glass door and was having serious trouble walking. Hilarious for all my friends, not so much for me while suffering through flashbacks the next day. I'll just feel fortunate that by the time I had turned into a complete and utter retard, we were in the privacy of a friend's apartment and not out at a bar somewhere.

The scariest part is that it didn't take much for me to feel totally normal the next day, and I even got through another lunch on Sunday, although with significantly less wine this time. (The cognac went down a treat, though!)

In any case, I'm serious you guys, I am never drinking ever again until Thursday. And I mean it this time.

"Well I Guess I Need To Eat..."

We just had a really crappy long weekend here in Sydney, primarily due to the constant torrential downpours that are still making us miserable even though the work week has arrived. At least Mother Nature is a consistent bitch.

In any case, I hadn't planned much for the long weekend. Thanks to my continuing inability to sleep past 4am without the assistance of medication of some sort, I figured I wouldn't want to plan too much, and the only real event I agreed to attend was Newman's 30th birthday drinks.

So I went to drinks, and made it clear from the start that I was probably going to head home in a couple of hours when everyone else headed over to dinner. Of course when that time rolled around, and I was still on the fence, I was persuaded to at least get some food in my stomach. And several bottles of wine later, I agreed that I should at least be polite and have a drink at the next bar.

Given the fact that we started drinking around 5pm, I can attest to being shockingly drunk by the time I got home at some point after midnight. And after around 24 hours, my headache finally subsided. In case you were wondering, that much booze definitely did not help my sleeping habits. And as a general rule, I am never agreeing to eat dinner with a bunch of alcoholics again.

Why You're Single

I am a very active Facebook user. Some would say prolific. I post photos from pretty much anything remotely interesting that I do, and I mostly see my status updates as a perfect opportunity to judge everyone and everything around me. It's fun.

Of course, we all have those Facebook "friends" who overshare. And I don't mean the ones who post photos of their babies and pets. I mean the ones who don't seem to think there's anything inappropriate about letting us all know the rather intimate details of their personal lives.

And so, I thought I'd give you a taste of my favorite Facebook nutjob. We briefly worked together many years ago in New York, and she was one of the people who I added with the intention of removing after a while when I didn't think they'd notice. (See, I'm not totally heartless.) However, I quickly came to look forward to her ridiculous status updates profiling her divorce proceedings (yes, really) and whatever else she could contribute that was amazingly lacking in any sort of self-awareness.

Here are my top 10 status updates from only the last few weeks:

This is probably one of the less ridiculous things she's posted. Having said that, I'm not sure why everyone on Facebook would need to know the date her divorce papers were filed. (Also, I'm pretty sure you're not actually 'free' until the papers are processed and approved. But I won't nitpick.)

Did she just refer to herself as "young and beautiful"? Well, as long as you've convinced yourself, honey.

Or, just trying to avoid identity theft. But go on, continue stalking.

These are my favorites - the divorce settlement details. I mean the guy sounds like an absolute prick, but these status updates really make me feel like I understand why he left.

Nothing better than passive aggressive bitching about your friends on Facebook because they didn't want to hang out with your crazy ass. One guess as to what they think is annoying...

Wow, there was almost a tiny bit of self-awareness in this one! I wanted to give her a pat on the back when I read it.

This is a perfect example of over sharing. It sounds like something she meant to write in an email to a good friend she hasn't seen in a while...except it's on Facebook, for asshole strangers like myself to gawk at and hope that she's getting professional help.

I had assumed that she meant this as some sort of obvious double entendre. Then I read the comments where she sincerely told her friends that had absolutely no idea that people might interpret it in a dirty way. So either she's stupid and really didn't imagine it might sound pervy, or she's just completely insane. Maybe one of her other personalities wrote it.

Once again, lady, NOT FACEBOOK MATERIAL. Unless you're hoping to inspire hordes of hungry men to descend upon your doorstep. Knowing her, she's probably already posted her full address and phone number in a status update.

I really, really had to fight the urge to click "Like" on this one. Hopefully the ensuing comments on her status were enough to fill that empty void for the evening.

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

And folks, this is just from the last MONTH. Having said that, she's clearly heading out of divorce territory which means I may lose interest and finally delete her after a year of the crazy, but at least we had this chance to share.

I Want What He's Having

Just wanted to share this animated GIF that Emla was evil enough to curse me with - so far I find it impossible to look at it for any less than 27 seconds.




No, I will not pay your therapy bills.