Common Cents

Out of curiosity, I decided to download a recommended app to help track my spending. I'm not really a believer in budgets (I'm surprisingly sensible with my money, assuming you agree that having no credit card debt is basically the only requirement here), but figured it couldn't hurt to check where all my money is going.

And so, excluding my mortgage and my monthly savings, here's where my disposable income has gone in the last two months:

I suppose this shouldn't be much of a surprise from someone whose blog is about how he used to get blindingly drunk on a regular basis, but apparently even now almost a third of my disposable income goes simply to 'Drinks'. Factor in the possibility that a lot of what has been labeled 'Dinner' and 'Lunch' is probably booze, and it's almost enough to make me want to take some time off drinking. Almost.

I nearly felt better about being able to dismiss the Accountant and Gift amounts since those wouldn't normally appear, and then realized that it would mean I had spent an even larger percentage of my income on booze in the same time period. At some point, it just gets embarrassing.

Not sure tracking my expenses has really made me rethink the way I spend my money, but at least we can all have a good laugh at what a moron I am, amirite??

Funeral Festivities

At the risk of sounding morbid, I have often thought what I'd want my funeral to be like. And things get outta hand pretty quickly. Maybe this is because I've never actually been to a funeral of any sort in my lifetime, but I don't see any reason they can't be something of a lighthearted occasion.

My top two funeral concepts at the moment are:

• Starts out rather normally, but the drinks are quite strong and the food is pretty light. As people get more intoxicated, the music picks up, the lights dim, and before you know it, everyone's dancing. Next thing anyone realizes, there's glitter falling from the ceiling...except no one knows that my ashes are actually mixed in with the glitter. Everyone goes home taking a piece of me with them to their corner of the world.

• Just as everyone sits down to begin a reading or prayer or something equally boring, my coffin pops open and whatever contraption is necessary makes my corpse pop up while ridiculous haunted house-style screaming noises play in the background. My face would be posed to look totally shocked and positioned to be staring at the audience. Hilarity ensues. Everyone goes home all laughed out, thinking "Sigh, that was just classic Zander."

These are just the top two ideas right now, other suggestions are welcome!

If The Shoe Fits, You're Fired

My latest obsession at work is judging people by their shoes. Because it's amazing what you can tell about someone by what they choose to place on their feet.

There are the people who wear sneakers or thongs/flip flops around the office. These tend to be people who have a role they're very comfortable in and don't see any real desire for advancement. (This also applies to people who get face tattoos.) Don't even get me started on Crocs, but I have seen them in the office and had to assume that these were people who aren't familiar with the internet, where such footwear is mocked widely.

Of course you always have the ladies who wear crazy heels in an effort to be fashion forward, but unfortunately just look like strippers. That's okay, they'll probably marry well. Or at least blackmail some married guy to find their way to success.

Possibly the most frustrating are the guys who wear shoes that are appropriate for work...if you work in 1998. I mean seriously, where are they even able to buy those things?? They're never getting promoted.

But easily, the most rage-inspiring "shoes" I've seen on someone are open-heeled dress shoes on a man.Haha, I bet that didn't even make sense to you when you read it. Yes, I said dress shoes on a man that are open-heeled. Sort of like this:

I told you. I think these were created to test my character as a human being. And it has failed that test, because I will never ever forgive the man I saw wearing these a few weeks ago. It's like business up front and party in the back - an actual shoe mullet. You asshole. What on earth were you thinking??

While I think it should be standard practice to fire someone on the spot for such a travesty, Australia isn't quite as loose as the US when it comes to being able to fire people for absolutely anything you can think of, so I will just have to settle for the fact that the man wearing said shoes is a contractor and probably won't get renewed when the time comes. Thank god.

A Blogger's Existential Crisis

Wow, almost 2 months without one blog post. That's pretty pathetic, I know. And this time, it feels different. I actually had plenty of time in the last few weeks to log on and write something inane, but I just didn't feel like it.

Hickster asked me about my blogging earlier today and that's what prodded me to take a closer look. I mean the rather obvious reason for my lack of motivation is that I simply don't drink that much anymore. And while it used to be hilarious to have a blog that was inspired and fueled by things like waking up wearing makeup and a bleeding arm without any recollection of the night before (thanks for that, 2004), at a grand old age of 33 even a mild hangover just seems sort of embarrassing and a reason to re-evaluate my life.

It doesn't help that I seem to be filling my life with activities that are inherently boring and would make most people contemplate ending it all if they felt like they had to read about them on a regular basis. Do you care about my herb and vegetable garden? Funny, not sure I do either. Perhaps a day by day recap of which tiles I'm thinking about for the new bathrooms? Didn't think so. And while I do frequent a large number of restaurants, I'm personally pretty sure that food bloggers are destined to occupy a very special place in Hell, having to ensure some very special terror for each time that they described the flavors of a dish as 'melodious'.

Hickster suggested that I rename the blog "Am I Getting Old?", but from the paragraph above I think we already know the answer is yes. So whatever - I will maybe blog a little more, maybe I won't, and my dwindling readership may just have to enjoy having more time to read updates from someone who isn't giving up on life. Haha? Sigh.

Doctor's Orders

Dental issue seems to be resolved. I went back yesterday (this time to my usual dentist, who told me I was an idiot for taking the laser treatment option) and we just ripped the offending tooth out. Some actual conversations during the 40 minutes I was there:

Dentist: So what do you want to do?
Zander: Let's just rip the tooth out and call it a day, shall we?
Dentist: You know, you may want to just get the bottom wisdom tooth out as well while you're here.
Zander: I don't think that will be necessary.
Dentist: But...
Zander: Listen, I majored in Marketing. I think I know what I'm talking about


Dentist: Okay, so no drinking at the moment while you're healing.
Zander: Wait, for how long?
Dentist: A few days, I guess.
Zander: This is important. I need you to be specific. Can I drink on Friday?
Dentist: Oh whatever, you can drink tonight if you want to.
Zander: Sweet.


Dentist: Now go straight home, get some rest and start taking the painkillers.
Zander: I have tickets to see Prometheus in 3D at the IMAX theatre in 90 minutes.
Dentist: Ooh, tell me how it is! Oh, and no popcorn.


(For the record, my laissez-faire attitude towards medical advice hasn't seem to have backfired. Yet.)

I'm Fabulous. But I'm Evil.

I may be barrelling towards my mid-thirties, but let it never be said that I can't turn a professional work environment into the next instalment of Mean Girls at any age.

Related: DO NOT PISS ME OFF. Especially when you're stuck sitting directly next to me for the foreseeable future.

The Real Cure For Jet Lag

It was true 2 years ago, and even in my old age, it's still true now. You can avoid alcohol and caffeine. You can take small naps or just force yourself to stay awake until a reasonable hour. But the only real way to beat jet lag is to have a little too much to drink and let the hangover win out in the end.

It is 3.24am, but I am already looking forward to some serious alcohol intake after work. It's the only way.

So Close, Yet So Far

People always say "moving is so hard", but tend to follow it up with some sort of sentiment along the lines of "...but once you're in there, you will be so happy and relieved."

I beg to differ. All of my things have been sitting in my new apartment for over an hour, and all I can do is sigh in resignation at the intimidating thought of how many weeks away I clearly am from unpacking, setting up, and actually LIVING in my new apartment. And for at least the next few days, anyone who could see my apartment would think I was auditioning to be the subject of an episode of Hoarders. Ugh.

That's What You Get

I didn't bother blogging because I just had one of the quietest weekends in my entire life. Other than a couple of drinks on Friday night and a couple more on Sunday evening, I basically stayed in my apartment to cook, clean, watch TV and continue to recuperate from a crazy holiday season.

And what happens Tuesday morning? I wake up feeling like I'm on my deathbed. Fever, aches and pains all over, exhaustion. For a little while I was excited because I thought I had the flu for the first time ever (I like trying out new things), but considering I felt almost normal by the time evening had rolled around, I'm guessing it was something else.

In any case, this completely reinforces my genuine belief that heavy alcohol consumption kills bacteria and prevents you from getting sick. I had previously based my theory on the fact that pretty much everyone I know who abstains from alcohol for a months spends at least part of that month feeling deathly ill, but now I've got my own personal experience to back it up. Vodka, I will never leave you alone in my freezer again.

See You In Hell

Actual conversation at the polo last weekend, that a friend just reminded me about...

Friend: So I'm doing this thing where you go out to an immigration detention center and spend a few hours with refugees, it's really rewarding!

Zander: Oh that sounds really cool. I mean I like the idea of charity, but I struggle being around sick or poor people. But I think I could handle refugees!

Friend: Uh...okay. Anyway, if you're interested, it's on Sunday mornings and...

Zander: Ooh, Sundays? I golf on Sundays.

And The Worst Part...

I almost never remember my dreams. And after the dream I woke up from this morning, I wish it was just never.

This time I was in New York visiting friends, except most of the people there were more acquaintances than friends, and didn't look particularly excited to see me.

I was chatting to Fry, in the pouring rain, when some black beetle sort of thing flew into my eye socket/throat (which were somehow the same orifice, attractive I know) and we spent several minutes trying to get it out. It happened eventually, but I can tell you that I am still grossed out at the thought of it.

And the most horrible part of the whole dream was that Fry had the worst haircut that has ever existed. Think bowl cut in the front, huge 80's mullet in the back. Even a hipster wouldn't think it was cool in an ironic way.

Fear not, though. I've already emailed Fry and recommended that she don't do anything of the sort with her hairstyle anytime soon.

Booze Metrics

I should have thought of this ages ago, but my new gauge to determine how good a night out was will be based on the number of people I can't remember who add me on Facebook the following day. This means that I was memorable, but in a good way.

Likewise, waking up in prison or to a number of your friends not speaking to you indicates the opposite.

In any case, Saturday night was apparently awesome.

It's Hard Being Popular

This week is stressing me out. Once again, nothing work related. It's just the fact that some 8 people I know have birthdays this week, which leads to a lot of dinners, lunches, drinks, and parties for people aged anywhere between 1 and 60. (According to Facebook I actually have about 23 "friends" who have birthdays this week, but I suppose that sort of thing isn't so unlikely to happen when I accept friend requests from people I haven't seen or talked to since I was five foot seven and didn't see anything wrong with wearing black tapered jeans in broad daylight.)

In the end it's great to see everyone and be social. But even if I look like I'm chatting and dancing and having a great time, please be aware that an unusual amount of my consciousness is really just wondering what the hell it is about June and July that apparently makes so many people want to have unprotected sex.

Professional Time Wasters

Early January is easily the least productive time to be in an Australian workplace. At least in December people are still trying to finish things off for the year, between Christmas lunches, parties, drinks, etc. (I know someone whose company gives them a SHOPPING DAY as a bonus annual leave day.)

But at this point in January, half the people haven't even come back from their Christmas breaks, which means the rest of us who are unlucky enough to have to trudge into the office simply don't have much to do.

While I'm lucky enough to have a TV on my desk and other bored people to talk to, the bulk of my time ends up being having the most inane conversations one can imagine with Juice, via instant messenger. Topics this week have so far included:

Latest opinions on British Airways

Is it okay to use coconut cream that has been sitting in an open can in the fridge for 4 days

Life in a minimum security prison probably wouldn't be that bad, if it was only for like, a year, and you met some really well connected people (Dependent on the assumption that there would be decent food and access to good wine.)

American "ain't" vs. Australian "arvo" - which one makes more sense than the other in it's respective context

Should Juice go drink alone in the bar downstairs from his office

Needless to say, no one will be crafting any university courses around these topics anytime soon. It's actually kind of a miracle that we get paid at all.