Thank You, Interwebs

Due to a lack of sleep related to an overwhelming combination of drinking and stress over the weekend (probably more the former than the latter), I had that annoying eye twitch thing that sometimes happens when you're really run down.

After a couple of days, I figured I would look it up on the web and see if there were any little home remedies I should try.

Unfortunately, the first website I found has advised that I may have Tourette's Syndrome.

So yeah, there's that.

If I Must

Although I am quite the self-proclaimed Grinch, I am at least willing to hope that everyone enjoys the next couple of weeks of festivities. I expect stories for the blog, if nothing else.

Guess We're Done Here, Then

Had a brilliant night out with the gang on Saturday, where we started with a dinner that was meant to be the focus of the night. We finished off what little food we intended to eat for the evening, and headed off to the trashy bars around Bondi Beach to get right into it.

Eventually we ended up at a bar called White Revolver, apparently one of the most exclusive clubs in Sydney. We've all been to a place like this - where you have to find the secret, unmarked doorway, and know that the secret password is "dolphin teeth" to be allowed entry. (That's a true story. In this case though, you had to be, or be with, a member who was holding a specific key and know that the entrance to the club was behind a revolving door.)

Turned out to be a brilliant bar playing awesome hip hop for hours on end, and I decided this was easily my new favorite spot in town.

It's a shame, then, that on the way out, Neels had a misunderstanding with the "lady" at the entrance, and called her a "miserable fucking bitch" as we left.

Totally fine. I didn't want to hang out there anyway.

DamnYouTequila.Com

Last night we went to an event where all of the beer and wine was free, the DJ was brilliant, and because it was sponsored by a swim wear company, we were at all times surrounded by hot people in bikinis and speedos. Pretty awesome Thursday.

Of course, not content with enjoying our free booze and having a bit of a boogie, we started in on the Cafe Patron shots from early in the evening.

Juice ended up pulling his first Irish Goodbye in quite a while, and when I texted to ask if he'd gone home I got this response:

"City girls just seem to find our early"

He has subsequently claimed that it may have been a lyric to a song he was listening to at the time. An explanation that makes no sense because a) how would that answer my question and b) even as a song lyric it is still random and nonsensical.

Needless to say, he can't blame this one on auto-correct.

Ugh, This Again

As many of you know, I'm basically a mixed race version of the Grinch. I am annoyed by Christmas music, despise Christmas decorations, and in particular, hate exchanging gifts.

It's not even the religious stuff that I can't stand - I don't believe in that part of it either, but if there are people out there who want to believe that a baby was born to a virgin in a barn and didn't manage to pick up even one bacterial infection in the process, they can knock themselves out.

It's more the commercial bullshit (most of which centers around ridiculous Pagan rituals and mythology and has nothing to do with Christianity) that really grinds my gears, to borrow a phrase from my spiritual leader, Peter Griffin. I'd rather celebrate Thanksgiving two months in a row than have to listen to generally terrible Christmas carols while surrounded by glittering Christmas decorations made out of material even a Russian woman wouldn't wear.

And of course, there are the gifts, which tend to fall into three categories:

1) Generic/pointless - Oh wow, thanks for this gift card. So not only did I have to brave holiday shopping crowds in some horrible department store to fulfill my obligation to purchase something I thought you might like, but now I have to go back to said awful department store to get myself something because as it turns out, you don't even know me that well.

2) Crap I didn't want in the first place - Shit, how did you know I was dying to own the latest Enrique Iglesias album? That is some mighty fine detective work considering I hate that song by him that they won't stop playing on the radio, and I haven't actually purchased music in over a decade. Way to go, Nancy Drew.

3) An incredibly cool/thoughtful gift - This happens like less than 1% of the time, so let's not even spend time discussing.

In the end, the best gift I get each year at this time is a solid amount of money from my mother, who knows that if we are going to honor silly traditions, we may as well be practical about it. Shame I'll probably have to spend that money on presents for you lot.

Brush With Fame

It was a boozy weekend, but that goes without saying in Australia at this time of year.

Friday night was meant to be quiet drinks with a few people at my place, and ended up as a chaotic binge session with far too many people and red wine casualties. Apparently I eventually got drunk enough to tell everyone to get the hell out of the apartment, but fortunately 90% of people were far too drunk to actually remember the incident. Thank you, alcohol.

Saturday was a pub lunch with the family followed by a white party at a posh house of a friend, however given my inadequate recovery time I only lasted a couple of drinks before it was time to call it a night.

Sunday was a long ago scheduled lunch at Bondi Icebergs with some friends, where we thought we'd spend the afternoon pretending to be wealthy and fabulous in the run up to Christmas. While the cocktails and food were all great, the only slight disappointment was the fact that we'd apparently missed Oprah by minutes, and she'd even occupied the table next to us shortly before we sat down. Needless to say, that brief contact with a seat that had recently been in contact with Oprah's ass was enough to make me wonder where my free car was.

Merry fucking Christmas.

This Is How We Do It

This time of year is always a truly brilliant reminder of why life in Australia is so good.

After last Friday's work Christmas party, we're about to head to our third long lunch of the week, and it's not even mid-December yet.

And that is essentially my excuse for not blogging any more this week. (Funny how both drinking and not drinking both end up being reasons not to post here.)

Still Learning

Just because I'm now "in my thirties", doesn't mean that I can't still take on board the occasional lesson in my later years. For example, from my birthday celebrations over the weekend:

Lesson #1

Just a few sips of some awful colored slushy type drink is always a bad idea, and if done directly before taking a photo will result in the appearance that you may have just finished sucking off a leprechaun.

Lesson #2

When you order shots and the bartender pulls out plastic medicine serving cups instead of actual shot glasses, it's time to go to another bar.

Lesson #3

I look hot with tattoos.

Shit List

So today I participated in a charity run that was meant to involve me running on a treadmill in the middle of Sydney for a specific 30 minute time slot.

The run itself went well, and I achieved my goal of running at least 6km in 30 minutes. At that point we were all told to turn off our treadmills and pass over to the next person from our company who would be running for the next 30 minutes.

Except my replacement wasn't there. She just didn't show up. And since my company is the primary sponsor of the event, I basically had to turn the treadmill back on and run for ANOTHER half hour.

I have run for over 10km and I am now sore and nauseous. I also have to attend the work Christmas party in a couple of hours, and will have to summon every last bit of self-control to not throw my drink in the face of the woman who did this to me.

I make no promises.

Fatter By The Minute

Happy Thanksgiving!

Just wanted to check in and assure you that not only did Thanksgiving in Sydney go ahead as usual this year (devolving into a mini-dance party ending after 1am, sorry neighbors!) but we even managed to demolish a bottle of Patron XO Cafe within well under 30 minutes.

We were musing the other day about how a half Jamaican half Scottish New Yorker throws a Thanksgiving dinner in Sydney, attended by mostly non-Americans, to eat food that includes a stuffing recipe that I obtained from a Japanese friend, and then everyone ends up dancing to awful European house music by the end of the night. Drunk on alcohol from New Zealand, Russia, and Mexico.

Imagine how pissed off the Pilgrims would be.

Alcohologic

I met up with Newman for some drinks after work yesterday, and we decided to be responsible and grab some food to go with our beer and wine.

We stopped into a tapas bar, had some great food and a bottle of good French wine. Except once the bill came, we noticed they'd only charged us for a glass, and we may have forgotten to bring it to their attention. Oops.

Instead of appreciating our good fortune and heading home as planned, we applied what I like to call "alcohologic" to the situation, and decided that we clearly had to go celebrate our good fortune by spending the money we'd saved on more drinks at another bar. It made perfect sense at the time.

It's quite similar to the reasoning behind pretty much every night out, where I say I'm going to call it a night and someone negotiates with me, saying that they're going to a bar between our current location and my apartment, therefore I should come along for one more. Forget the fact that a bar being "on the way home" has nothing to do with actually being at home, in bed, and not consuming more alcohol. It's all the rationalizing I need to extend my evening.

So what I'm trying to say is, alcohologic is a beautiful thing, even if it is an ugly word.

Opportunity

I just over heard the big boss say that she's on leave from December 2nd to January 7th.

Guess who's "working from home" for a month...

Avoiding the Hoi Polloi

In an attempt to participate in the snootiest and most obnoxious event happening in Sydney this past weekend, some friends and I went to watch the polo being played in Centennial Park.

While this was my first polo event, I am more than happy to make sweeping generalizations based on my single experience, and explain how these things go. Basically you dress up pretty nice, pay a silly amount of money just for entry to the event, and then overpay for cheap champagne while sitting with your back to the game and judging every single person that walks by. Ridiculous tan lines are part of the package.

Can't wait to do it again next year.

And The Award For Most Ridiculous Restaurant Dinner Ever...

...goes to Juice, which I suppose should be no surprise.

We went to a Japanese restaurant where the food is good and cheap, but the main draw is that we had our own private room with touch screens to order our food and drinks, not to mention our own entertainment system. Once we'd plugged in the tunes, it wasn't long before we were:

1) dancing on the table and seats to whatever song we were in the mood for

2) posing with various items around the room that were meant as decoration but worked better as props

3) rapping along to hip hop classic "Put It In Ya Mouth" by Akinyele

4) drinking enough that some members of the party wouldn't even remember leaving the restaurant

So, well done, Juice, and happy birthday. Your complete and utter inability to keep even dinner at a restaurant as at least a mildly classy affair deserves recognition, and we should probably just be happy that recognition didn't involve us all getting kicked out on our asses or charged for the damage.

Zero Motivation

I should blog more than once or twice a week, but I just can't find the energy sometimes. I have no excuse considering I'm really not that busy at work. Hell, I just spent 12 minutes talking to Juice about how we should launch a debaucherous airline that completely ignores international law and has a policy of "not our problem, airport security should have caught it". Trust me, you don't want to know what goes on in our imaginary planes.

In any case, I'll make a real blog post tomorrow. Maybe.

Halloween in Sydney 2010

Well I flew back in to Sydney yesterday morning, but you'll have to wait a few more days for the recap (or if I'm feeling lazy, just the photos) of my luxurious getaway to paradise.

In the meantime, here's a rundown of just a touch of the awesomeness that was in attendance for my annual Halloween bash:

He-Man, She-Ra and Skeletor

Yes, that's me in the blond wig. Wait, I mean the short blond wig.

The Hangover

Not only an awesome "costume", but something of an accurate omen for most of us that night.

The Birds!

Most people would have completely missed the reference to Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. And before I sound too snooty, the only reason I had a clue was because my flatmate in Brooklyn did this costume about 7 years ago.

The Winner

This was the guy who won the prize - not only because his costume was entirely homemade, but because it even involved electrical engineering to get those lights working. Also, he couldn't sit down.

Scary Stuff

Well folks, it's finally that time of the year again - tonight is the big Halloween party that I throw with Jules every year, and I'm pretty sure this will be the best costume I've had in ages. A comment that shouldn't be lessened by the fact that my costumes are usually half-assed and thrown together at the last minute.

There will be music, prizes, and hopefully a mix of fake and real vomit.

Of much more concern, and much more horrifying if you ask me, is the fact that I need to be up at 6am tomorrow morning to head to the airport for an international flight to the Maldives via Singapore. Given the condition I was in when I woke up the morning after last year's Halloween party, I guarantee whatever I look like tomorrow morning will be the scariest thing those Singapore Airlines flight attendants will have seen all year.

Seal of Approval

Someone just sent me an article in Psychology Today titled "Why Intelligent People Drink More Alcohol". Not that I actually read through this thing to find out what the actual reason was, but it's good to know I'm behaving appropriately for my clearly superior intellectual level.

Desperately Seeking New Friends

Granted I was totally busy being hammered and would have had trouble squeezing this in to my busy schedule, however I am incredibly upset that there is apparently an annual Zombie Walk in Sydney, and no one told me about it. New friends required, immediately.

In any case, it looks like it was an awesome time, so enjoy the photos:

For Shame

Started boozing at lunch yesterday, and basically continued through the afternoon in anticipation of the big work party last night.

Woke up this morning with little recollection of coming home, and an empty box for a Pizza Hut large pan pizza on my dining table.

(That's over 2000 calories, in case you were wondering. All eaten by me.)

And now I feel pretty average, and need to be ready to start drinking again by this evening, and then wake up again for a boozy pub lunch tomorrow. That will be followed by book club where we'll be discussing Faulkner, which has to be the worst planning of any sequence of events by anyone, ever.