speed kills

I promised myself that I wouldnt get too deep & meaningful in this post, because I spent a good chunk of Sunday, as well as playing nurse to an incredibly hungover best friend, dwelling on life & how suddenly it can end.

And end it has for Sam, who died on impact when he drunkenly crashed his car at excessive speed into a telegraph pole last weekend.

Of which I was informed by a bouncer mate of mine, when my best friend Simon & I staggered into the pub at 5am on Sunday morning after an insane night out in the city for my Dad’s 60th birthday.

So I cant say that Sam was a friend, because he wasnt, but just because he wasnt a friend, doesnt make his death any less startling, in an OMFG wake up call kind of way.

Sam was, well Sam was one of those people that you meet in a pub, just one of those random people that you make polite small talk with.

Except in this case the polite small talk ended in him stalking me. And by stalking I dont just mean following me around the pub offering to buy me drinks. It was full-on abusive screaming threatening to kill me if I wouldnt be with him, bashing on my front door & windows, following me everywhere I went stalking, which ultimately ended in Simon & his brother hunting him down & threatening to kill him, & a restraining order filed by me.

And now, he is gone, & I wish I could say that I was sad, but I cant, because im not sad, in a way I feel like its karma, in another way I feel like its the wake up call that I needed, you know that you can be here one minute, & gone the next, & the only person that can make the most of your life while you still have it, is you, & you only.

But I think the thing that has effected me the most is the fact that on a couple of those drunken nights at the pub, when Simon & I couldnt be bothered waiting for a taxi & before Sam turned into my worst nightmare, we willingly accepted a lift home with him, even though we knew he was drunk, because we stupidly thought that surely nothing could happen in the 5kms it takes to drive home.

And just like that, because we were too impatient & too complacent to wait for a taxi, it could have been Simon & I in the car with him when he wrapped it around that telegraph pole, & sure its past-tense, & I shouldnt dwell on things that didnt happen, but just the thought that it could have happened, is more horrifying than I could ever imagine.

LOVE it

So I get paid out a fair bit for my adoration of Posh & Becks, more specifically Posh, but hey do I care?

And I totally love this behind the scenes clip from their latest Emporio Armani ad campaign. I mean really whats not to love, ok I suppose if I really had to fault it, it would totally be whats up with the hair?

No really what is up with the hair, David looks like a middle-aged accountant, & Victoria looks, well I just dont know, it kinda looks like something you would see on a horse, you know a horse all groomed ready for some dressage event. 

I guess on the plus side, that thing, whatever it is supposed to be, sprouting from Victoria’s head sure would be handy for David to hold onto when he’s taking her from behind. 

magical relationship fairy

It takes alot for me to get pissed off, actually thats slightly incorrect, I occassionally get pissed off at the drop of a hat, sometimes over the stupidest most miniscule things, what takes alot for me to get pissed off is when that pissed offness is directed at one of my friends.

And one of my friends, lets just say that she is single & I have mentioned her in a post of two before, is pissing me off like no tomorrow, ok maybe not so much pissing me off as peeving the bejesus out of me.

And this slightly pissed off peeveness has been totally brought on by her complete inability to have a conversation with me lately without mentioning the fact that she is single, HELLO I KNOW YOUR SINGLE I GET IT END OF STORY.

But oh no of course not, she keeps asking me why she is single & what to do about it, like im some magical relationship fairy, with a fantasmagorical solution, just sprinkle a little glittery dust here & there & poof Mr Right magically appears to whisk you off your feet & ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after in a castle with a moat.

And I really dont know why she keeps asking me, why is she single? Fucked if I know, im in exactly the same boat, but the difference is that I have quite happily & quite recently embraced it, whereas she cant sleep at night worrying about it.

And really what is there to worry about, my theory, make that my extremely new theory, is that I refuse to waste my precious time with anymore Mr Wrong’s or Mr Right-Now’s, im holding out for Mr Right, & if he doesnt turn up until im rocking out in my nightie in a nursing home, then so be it, even though I hope to fuckery thats not going to be the case.

So im trying to encourage her, ive signed her up to dating sites, ive set her up on dates with male mates of mine, ive agreed to go speed dating, in fact if there was an olympic event for encouraging a friend to find a guy, then I would most certainly win gold. And sure im predominently doing it for her happiness, but theres this little bit of me thats doing it purely to get her to shut the fuck up.

And thats exactly what she needs to do, shut the fuck up or find a man, or preferably both, because if this continues my ears are going to start bleeding at the mere sound of her voice, either that or I am going to have to resort to spending my afternoons drinking martinis & snorting crushed up painkillers, just to dull the pain of her incessant whining.

ANTM – the scrags & bitches finale

So im having a dilemma….. go to trivia night at the pub or stay home & watch the live final of Australia’s Next Top Model?

Yes I know you probably thought I was going to say something far deeper, but frankly im sick of insightful & thoughtfulness & from now on im only having dilemmas of the air head drama queen variety.

Anyway ive watched every episode of Australia’s Next Top Model this season, which is pretty good going for me, because last year I was so bored with it I tuned out half way through & only ended up watching the finale because the chick who won was from Wollongong, which totally proves my point that us girls from the Gong are pretty hot bitches.

So this year I dont really care who wins all that much, because I really wanted Lola to win & sadly she got booted a couple of weeks ago, & then well once she was gone my interest started to wain ever so slightly, & now its down to Cassi Van Den Duggan & Tahnee Atkinson, & well neither of them really do anything for me.

Needless to say I will still be watching the finale tonight, even if im at trivia night & have to flash my boobs to the bar staff to get the channel changed to Fox8, because if I really have to choose i’d say Cassi to win, because sure she’s a skankalicious little bogan princess with shocking teeth, but damn does she take amazing photos.

Australia’s Next Top Model – Tonight 7.30pm on Fox8

flirting, flights & footage

So I went back home to Wollongong on the weekend, a super quick 36 hour trip, & while it was awesome to be back home, it was definitely far more exhausting & emotionally draining than I thought it would be.

The whole reason I went back home was to film my grandfather, not because I have this bizarre thing for randomly flying interstate to film my relatives, but because his dementia is getting worse by the day, & I didnt want to fly over in a months time only to find that he can barely talk, let alone sit down & tell me all the amazing stories of his life.

And sure I have heard all the stories a million times before, but as I sat there listening & recording I just heartbreakingly knew that this was probably the last time I was ever going to hear them, & I am so ridiculously glad that I was able to capture it, not just for myself, but for the rest of my family as well.

And i’ll admit for the last couple of weeks I havent been able to think of much else, the fact that he is deteriorating so rapidly, & the fact that im over here, when I should be over there closer to him, & not just him but my grandmother as well, because she is completely overwhelmed & gets so incredibly upset & hurt because she just refuses to accept that when my grandfather is abusive to her, that its not him its the dementia. But after 58 years together I guess its hardly something she can get used to overnight.

So im really struggling this week, im torn between staying here in Adelaide, where I have a fantastic job (finally) & awesome friends, or to go back home, where sure I would be closer to my grandparents, but it would mean having to get a job in Sydney & commuting on the train for 4.5 hours a day like I used to, & im just not so sure I can through that again.

But I guess for now im just glad that I did go home, that I did drag myself out of bed at 4am to fly over, & that I did shamelessly flirt with the lesbian sales assistant to get a super good price on the video camera, because the footage of my grandfather that I captured is worth more than I could ever fully put into words.

speedy gonzales

My friend Michelle has been pestering me for going on 3 weeks to go speed dating with her, you know because thats exactly how I want to spend a Saturday night, having a concession of 3 minute dates with people I wouldnt even acknowledge on the street, let alone strike up a conversation with.

And finally i’ve given in, not because I want to go, but because I want her to be happy, & if her happiness means going speed dating to find her ever elusive Mr Right then so be it.

So she emailed me the details today, & I have to admit that I took one look & thought, pft yeah whatever speed dating my ass. That was until I pulled myself up on the negativity, & started thinking positive, well positive-ish.

So we are going speed dating, & not just any ‘ol speed dating, we are going ‘tall specific’ speed dating. Yes you read that correctly, they now hold specialised events, not just age defined, you know like, short, tall, professional, sporty, psychopath, desperate loser & so on.

And Michelle chose the tall event, which is fitting considering she is 6ft & im 6ft2, & at first I must admit I was slightly concerned that the only guys that are going to attend will be jockeys or recent contestants in some small statured game show.

But now im all like,  I wouldnt even care if they were inhabitants from some planet in a galaxy far far away, im not going to the stupid thing to meet a guy, im going as wing-woman, to support Michelle.

And seriously im looking forward to it about as much as im looking forward to my next visit to the beautician, in fact if im completely honest, im actually looking forward to hot wax ripping off my pubic hair a hell of alot more.

clucky

Behold people I think my biological clock just started, ever so faintly, ticking. Faint, but definitely audible enough for me to seriously start thinking, holy fuck of all fuckness I think I might actually be, clucky.

And I totally have my friend Kimberley to thank, or curse, because I just caught up with her for lunch, & she is all 7 months pregnant. All glowing & gushing & showing me all the adorably cute little baby clothes she has just bought.

And for the first time ever, ok maybe the second time, I actually found myself wanting to have a baby, as in really wanting to have one, not just thinking yeah I suppose, or im at the age where I should, but wholeheartedly wishing right this second that I was pregnant.

And sure it might just be a phase, & by the time I get home from work tonight, i’ll have forgotten about it completely, but right now I cant get settling down in a loving relationship & having babies out of my mind, & its driving me insane because up until now ive been quite content living the life of a irresponsible spinster having meaningless flings with relative strangers.

hilarious celebrity bitchiness

So i’ll admit for a while there I was watching ridiculous amounts of tv, but then again I wasnt working, so what the hell else was I suppose to do? Weed the garden or crochet a beanie perhaps. But now that I am working, plus the recent addition of a spectacularly overactive social life, the whole tv watching thing has fallen by the wayside. 

But thats not to say that I dont watch it at all, because some days after an incredibly full-on stressful 8hrs at work, the only thing I feel like doing is curling up on the couch with a glass of wine & a blanket to watch some of my favourite shows.

And one of my absolute favourites at the moment is Chelsea Lately. And i’ll admit the first time I watched it I thought it was stupidly annoying, but it somehow managed to get under my skin, & now its a firm fave, right up there with Property Ladder, Celebrity Apprentice & The IT Crowd. 

I love that its witty, bitchy, funny & sarcastic all at the same time, but what I love most about it, is Chelsea Handler, because she is hot, & I totally have a girl crush on her, so much so that she has now skyrocketed up the list of 5 female celebrities I would have sex with if I was a lesbian, hell not even if I was a lesbian, i’d go her right now given the chance.

for one night only

One of the best things about working in the CBD, apart from the dazzlingly fabulous dashes to the mall to shop during lunch, seriously who needs to eat when you can go shopping, is catching up with friends I dont usually get a chance to catch up with on the weekend, because you know life is just so super busy sometimes, its virtually impossible to get everything crammed into a 2 day weekend.

And today was no exception, I caught up with one of my friends for a coffee, a fellow singleton, who apparently, well so I found out today, has embraced this new thing called one-night stands, ok so not new to anyone else, & sure as shit not new to me, but to her, its all new & exciting & confusing as hell.

And whilst I couldnt help but think, good god girl, one-night stands were like so 5 years ago, ok so I have probably had a few since then, but I figure if I was so inebriated I cant remember them, well then they simply dont count, or better yet didnt even really happen.

So anyway her one & only foray into the dark & seedy world of the one-night stand was last night, with a guy she had met online, with who she had only planned to have dinner with, not dinner followed by a desert of hairy bed-creaking nakedness.

And the poor precious was super confused today, because she wasnt interested in him last night, & in the cold harsh light  still wasnt interested in him today, & she couldnt figure out for the life of her why people have one-night stands if nothing is going to eventuate from them.

And I was all like sweetheart, if something was meant to eventuate from a one-night stand, for the love of fuckery it wouldnt be prefixed with ‘one’.

And I guess kudo’s to her for getting out there & trying something new. Its not easy to let go & have meaningless sex with a relative stranger, especially when her past sexcapades have been so few & far between, if she was a bus route she would have been cancelled by now.

And I suppose thats one of the reasons why people have one-night stands, they havent had sex for so long fear starts to set in that if they dont get some stat that it will be nothing but cobwebs & tumbleweeds from the navel down.

Or maybe just maybe they actually like the guy, so they figure lets do it as soon as possible, you know to prevent the startling realisation a couple of weeks into the relationship that he gets off on adult diapers, duct tape & anal beads.

if only there were tracking devices for ex’s

It pretty much goes without saying that Adelaide, as in the city, not some bitch that I have a vendetta against, are like oil & water, or chalk & cheese, or some other incredibly overused analogy describing our complete inability to get on.

I’ve been pretty forthcoming with my Adelaide is a hole filled with deadshits & a whole lot of boring nothingness to do. Well that has now morphed into Adelaide is too bloody small for its own good.

And sure heaps of people that live here say that the whole 6 degrees of separation is more prevalent here than in other cities. To which I have to say no shit, because its more like 3 degrees of separation, because I have yet to meet someone in Adelaide, whether it be work or socially, that doesnt know someone that I either know or is a friend of a friend of someone that I know. And that people can get a little too damn close for comfort at times.

But my issue over the weekend, wasnt that everyone seemingly knows everyone, if only by association, it was the fact that in a city of 1.1mil, how the hell is it possible to be sitting at the traffic lights on a Sunday afternoon, eyes day dreamingly glazed over, only to refocus for no bloody good reason on some random car driving past, a car that contained my ex-fiancé in the passenger seat.

And how the bloody hell out of all the cars waiting at the traffic lights surrounding me, plus the fact that he doesnt even know what my car looks like, is it possible for him to see me, & no I didnt just dream that up, our eyes locked & as he drove past his head spun around so fast I thought he was re-enacting a scene out of the Exorcist.

So now along with not being able to listen to Jeff Buckley, or watch The Notebook, or go shopping at Marion, I cant drive anywhere near that part of town, because the last thing I want is to spoil my weekend by a chance sighting of the guy it took 2 years for me to get over, even though I was the one who broke up with him.