| Sunday, July 31, 2005 |
| At least it's a great top! |
I was shopping with Boo yesterday for clothes to wear out last night (since being, you know, GIRLS, we have to have a new outfit to wear every time we go out!) and I found The Perfect Top. And I mean PERFECT! A beautiful ruby red, 3/4 sleeves, deep cleavage, mock wrap. Perfect upon perfect But the Eastern shore store didn't have my size and neither did the Hobart store so I had the Hobart store ring up Launceston to see if THEY had my size and they did. So Boo and I drove to Launceston to pick up My Top Launceston is 197kms away. We spent two and a bit hours driving there, 20-odd minutes in Launie actually BUYING The Perfect Top and two hours or so driving back Some may say it was a waste of an afternoon. Some may say it was a waste of petrol (considering it's $1.20 a litre at the moment!). I say it was fun AND I have The Perfect Top |
posted by Bug @ 11:55 am  |
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| Tuesday, July 26, 2005 |
| Have you ever had a nightmare come true? |
No I'm serious! Have you ever had something that you dreamed, that scared you so much you woke up in a cold sweat, trembling all over and unable to move in case the dream followed you out into your dark bedroom where anything could lurk, ACTUALLY come true? Cos I fucking have! Ok, back story: I am PARANOID about my teeth. When I was little my dentist realised that it was looking like I'd need braces as a teenager because my mouth was a bit crowded, so he decided that he'd remove a couple of teeth (baby teeth) and see if the extra room let them straighten up. And by a couple, I mean SIX TEETH. So he took SIX TEETH out of my (young, frightened, scared of pain) mouth and left me with a lifelong (so far) dread of the dentist that goes SO far beyond normal wariness it's into the realm of completely ridiculous. It also left me with regular nightmares (like, 3 times a week minimum) of awful things happening to my mouth, like getting hit in the face and my teeth breaking, or me sneezing at the dentist (which could happen, actually, if you think of hayfever time!) and him doing something terrible with the drill, or me realising when I'm out on the town that my front tooth is loose and hello! it just fell out (which is usually when I wake up). Those dreams are probably a large part of while I sleep like crap! Anyway. My tooth started to twinge a few weeks back and I called up my dentist's surgery and asked for an appointment, but he was on holidays and I didn't want to see any of his offsiders (MY dentists understands me. He's knows that my best friend would never describe me as stoic and that when we're talking anaesthetic, tripling the dose is not an unreasonable option!) so I decided to wait it out till he got back (it really pissed me off though, because I am ANAL about my teeth! I brush them EVERY morning and EVERY night - even when I get home roaring drunk, I'll still brush them before bed - and I don't even really eat sweet things so WHY should something be wrong with my teeth?) Good plan? Hmm... except that what had been a twinge very quickly became a FUCKING GREAT PAIN and when I looked in the mirror, I could SEE a cavity (blecch), so I called back and booked at the surgery for any dentist I could get. This was on a Wednesday (the 13th, as in two weeks ago today). I couldn't get in to see anyone until the following Monday so I booked anyway and bought myself a couple of boxes of painkillers and crossed my fingers But by Friday I just couldn't take it anymore and wandered all over on my lunch break TRYING to find SOMEONE who could fit me in that day or the Saturday. Found someone! Joy! I booked in for Saturday evening (sucks to be a dentist, doesn't it? Saturday evening!), knowing that it would cost me an arm and a leg, and possibly a shoulder blade and part of a knee cap as well, but not caring because my tooth FUCKING HURT! So I rocked up to this random dentist, had a big filling put in (turns out it was quite a deep cavity), went home and dosed up on painkillers and went out that night. All good Saturday night All good Sunday All good Monday morning Monday afternoon, though, my jaw started to ache. I assumed it was just residual soreness from the grinding and drilling (gah) but by Friday (this one just gone, the 22nd) I couldn't cope with it anymore and called MY dentist - not the random one from the week before - and said "FUCKING HELP ME!" but they couldn't see me until Tuesday, yesterday. So for the next three days I overdosed on painkillers (no seriously! If my liver wasn't already cactus from the amount I drink? It's DEAD now!) and rocked up at MY dentist yesterday afternoon (having been on a liquid diet - soup, yoghurt, etc. - since Thursday) only to be told that my dentist was with someone but that his offsider would see me. By this stage I didn't give a shit, I just wanted it dealt with, cos I sure as hell wasn't dealing with it! The offsider (whose name I never did actually get) did an x-ray of the tooth (cutting my mouth on the x-ray pad, I might add!) which showed that the random dentist had actually put the filling ON the nerve so that every time I chewed or talked or, ooh I don't know, MOVED MY HEAD AT ALL, the filling pressed on the nerve and cause me FUCKING MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF PAIN The only solution really was to get rid of the filling I had (and had paid a fortune for) and replace it with a soft dressing, which apparently lasts for 6 months, and then choose whether I a) want the tooth REMOVED (!) or b) want root canal work (!!!!) Having put me into a semi-panic over the very horrible options I'd just been given, the offsider got a needle and injected anaesthetic into my jaw. After about 10 seconds he poked my cheek and asked if it was tingling cos that meant it was working. I said that no, no tingles, although my jaw felt kind of heavy, and he just weighed on in there with the drill. After 10 seconds!! And that anaesthetic? Had NOT FUCKING WORKED because he drilled ACROSS THE NERVE and it was NOT NUMB and apparently I bit him but I don't remember that because I was too busy SCREAMING The next bit was totally strange and something that's never happened to me before. I was kind of crying, more sobbing breaths but I actually couldn't breathe properly and I was gasping and clutching at the dental nurse (who was lovely) and I couldn't stop and it was HORRID! When I described it to my mum last night she said that it sounded like a textbook panic attack. How very Victorian novel of me is that?? But it was fucking awful And then the offsider got ANOTHER needle and tried to inject my jaw again but I was still gasping and crying and he couldn't get a clear shot at me so he just shook me and told me that I was being silly and that I wasn't helping matters so I TRIED to get hold of myself a bit and he injected me again and said that if it hurt again to raise my hand and he'd stop and give me another injection and then he started drilling again (the nurse was rubbing my shoulder while this was going on, good nurse) and it STILL hurt so I put up my hand and HE DIDN'T STOP so I put it up higher and he said "I've only got a minute or so left, it'll be ok" and KEPT DRILLING on a tooth that could FEEL IT and by this stage I was almost hysterical and he HAD to give me a minute to calm down before he put in the filling (which as far as I can tell was cotton wool and plaster. How lovely) I don't think he even cared by that stage cos he just told me that I'd need to book six months in advance for root canal work and shooed me out of his office. I was still a mess and the receptionists wouldn't let me go back to work (oh yes! This was on my lunch break!); they made me sit in the waiting room for a while with a newspaper and tried to calm me down After a while I walked back to work and TRIED to settle down and get on with everything. It was no good though, my nerves had been completely shot to pieces by the whole thing (and probably by having been in continuous pain for the best part of two weeks) and I kept dry sobbing and then tearing up and I was vague and distracted and my workies were really worried about me and didn't understand why I didn't go home But at least it was over, right? Put it this way: It's 2.55 on Wednesday afternoon and I'm posting from home so does that show you how well I was coping with work today? Not only am I still shaky from my complete and utter freak-out (it was so weird) but the tooth? Fucking hurts again. I'm running out of painkillers I don't know what to do about it, I really don't. I can't keep putting up with this or I'll go crazy. I'm also going bankrupt from the number of appointments! And now I have to choose whether to have a tooth pulled OUT (yuck yuck yuck) or have root canal therapy, where they pull the NERVE out (pain pain fuckingintensepain) I am NOT coping so please, give me some sympathy! |
| posted by Bug @ 2:59 pm |
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| Sunday, July 24, 2005 |
| Hmm, advice needed please |
Generally I'm a pretty assertive person. I say what I think without beating about the bush (although I've never quite understood that phrase) and I will NOT lie so I often offend people by not sugar-coating my words. I won't take crap from companies who are messing me around and I say no to telemarketers. If someone's pissing me off I'll tell them so and if I don't like someone then I don't pretend to be nice to their face and then bitch behind their back, I just don't talk to them (I don't give them the silent treatment though cos, hello! Not 15-years-old!) But I'm stuck over what to do just now. There's a guy I met a couple of weeks back at a friend's birthday who is good looking, very nice, reasonably intelligent, quite gentlemanly and who fancies me. Sounds good right? Yeah no. He leaves me COLD! I don't know why cos he should be my type actually (although he IS short and I like my boys tall) but you know how even between strictly platonic friends there's usually SOME sort of attraction? I don't even have THAT! I feel NOTHING! Actually that's not true. I actually feel kind of exasperated by him Boo thinks that it's because he's like the girl of the two of us. As in, he was snuggling up to me last night when we were out drinking (I'm not seeing him but I didn't mind hanging out with him, friends are good) - and I mean SNUGGLING, with his arms around my waist and his head tucked in to the crook of my neck (told you he was short) - and talking about being hurt in his previous relationships and he sent Boo a text message saying that I'm "an amasing girl" (note: I INSIST on correct spelling. I'm anally retentive that way) and I know that all sounds like it should be fabulous, but I just DON'T want it. It's freaking me out, actually! So my question is this: how do I make him back the fuck off without being mean? He messages me every day and wants to catch up all the time and invited me over to his place (just no) and I don't want any of it. But I don't want to hurt his feelings cos he's a nice guy and Hobart's too small a place to successfully avoid anyone Blecch |
| posted by Bug @ 6:58 pm |
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| Thursday, July 21, 2005 |
| Oh yes, oh yes, a great big OH YES |
My new bed was delivered this morning!! It's wood and wrought iron and Queen-sized and pretty and will go excellently with my fantabulous mattress (I swear to God - who I don't believe in but whatever - I would marry my mattress if I could. It's THAT comfy. I LURVE my mattress so very, very much) Question is: what on earth do I do with my ensemble base?? And what will Attila the Puss do without his little dizzy-wizzy playground? But YES! A BED! Now I finally have something to attach my handcuffs to :) |
| posted by Bug @ 1:50 pm |
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| Tuesday, July 19, 2005 |
| Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince |
That book will make a gruesome movie. That's all I'm saying Oh, besides "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!", that is! |
| posted by Bug @ 8:58 am |
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| Sunday, July 17, 2005 |
| Let me count the ways |
How do I love being semi-fought over by two lovely boys? See title Although, just to reassure you that I'm still my cynical, jaded self, I'm sure that the fact that I think they're lovely boys means they're both totally evil Boo threw a drink (my drink) over the very evil Cliff in the middle of Surreal. Oh I laughed And OH I had a good fun! A completely smashing night (and that's literally! We all drank so much that people were dropping their glasses everywhere!) Much as I love my Boo and how much shit we get up to together, it's so much MORE fun to go out with a group!! Such a good fun :) |
| posted by Bug @ 8:13 pm |
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| Thursday, July 14, 2005 |
| Wrong, but oh so totally fun |
So yesterday, five and a half weeks into my new job (which I LURVE), I took my first sick day. Was I sick? Yeah no, not so much
The other night, Boo and I went to her work (at about midnight!) so she could pick up her lip gloss and Delroy, a LOVERLY 19-year-old who works the night shift there, was bored and said we could sit in the - deserted - bar and hang out. Being losers with nothing better to do, we did and ended up having a grand old time, gossiping with Delroy into the wee hours. Which was all fine and dandy except that I didn't get home till 3-3.30 and I have to get up at 6.30 for work. Every now and then I go to work with only a couple of hours sleep but I woke up and felt like SHIT so even though it was self-inflicted, I took a sick day (and got much sympathy from my workies, which made me feel trés guilty) And this sick day that I underhandedly took? (which I did use half of to catch up on sleep, by the way) Was an absolutely FUN day. Boo came and picked me up (read: flopped heavily onto my legs while I was still asleep to wake me up) about lunch time and we went to Delroy's house and hung out there for a bit. Then Boo got a call from Bumpkin (who ALSO works with Boo and Delroy) and she organised him to come and pick the three of us up and we went for a drive up the mountain (sounds random, doesn't it? My city is at the bottom of a mountain and there's an observation deck up the top - everyone drives up the mountain, we're not weird) to see if there was any snow (there wasn't). After that we drove out to Richmond, a little town about half an hour out of my city, which is one of the oldest towns in Australia (and also has the BEST bakery and the BEST lolly shop) We had to drop Delroy home after that because he was working last night as well and had had even less sleep than I had, but Boo and Bumpkin and I went to the house he's minding at the moment (It. Is. Gorgeous) and then to the pub, where we stayed for about 6 hours (with Bumpkin buying the drinks - gnarly!) In the end I HAD to go home cos I was BUGGERED (and still am - feeling crook again today) but it was one of the best days I've ever had, I think. Just hanging out with comfy-type people doing relaxing-type things. A good fun |
| posted by Bug @ 2:02 pm |
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| Tuesday, July 12, 2005 |
| Totally inane |
Here you go, an example of what complete morons (and time-wasters) my friends and I are: Lady Bugalugs: Have you ever read the side of a pack of Mentos? It says "chewy dragees". What in the name of all that is yummy and sugary are "chewy dragees"?
Bug: Oh just :P You’re such a sarky lad
SOE: Hmmmm nah, it’s what the net is there for, people seem to forget or overlook this fact
Bug: Well yes, bug DRAGEES??
SOE: Yes dear, dragees is a real term
Bug: Uh-huh. Known about dragees all your life, have you? Used to eat them as a tike? Or did you just look them up and now you’re crowing over me? :P WHAT’S WRONG WITH "LOLLIES"????
SOE: TECHNICALLY they’re those little teeny gold/silver/shiny coloured ball things you get for decorating cakes
Bug: I thought they were called chocoucos or something equally Spanish looking. I’ve never been able to pronounce it. I just call them "those murderous little gold/silver/shiny coloured ball things that break my teeth when I try to chew them and send me to the dentist, who I avoid religiously". Dragees rolls off the tongue a little sweeter though, doesn’t it?
SOE: They’re not actually supposed to be eaten by the way :P
Bug: Well they shouldn’t be made of sugar then, should they??
SOE: They shouldn’t, but they are probably for the simple fact that people DO try to eat them, and let’s face it, they wouldn’t be very healthy if they were made out of plastic now, would they?
BUG: Well no, but if they had a warning on the label that said "DO NOT EAT THESE! THEY’LL BREAK YOUR FUCKING TEETH!", that would be much safer
SOE: I think it’s one of those life experience things
p.s. Pink face update: the dye seems to have MOSTLY come off in the shower (thank FUCK!), although my hands are still decidedly rosy :) |
| posted by Bug @ 8:35 am |
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| Sunday, July 10, 2005 |
| Oh nooooooooo |
I look like... brace yourselves... an oompa loompa. You know, if oompa loompas were short, plump and orange. Oh, hang on, THEY WERE! Let me 'splain. No, is too much, let me sum up (ten points for placing the quote): I just dyed my hair 'hot chilli'. The dye-y water while rinsing in the shower dyed my face on its way down from my head. Hence, ORANGE FACE!!! NOT a good look! AND, as far as I can tell, ALL the colour's been washed from my hair so I have an ORANGE OOMPA LOOMPERY FACE and totally dull NORMAL COLOURED hair! Just hell So I'm sending mental thanks to the makers of my wine glasses that LITERALLY hold half a bottle of wine, and also to the creaters of coffee cream twisters (choccie wafer stick thingies with coffee cream in the middle, mmm) ORANGE!!! p.s. Yes, a frivolous entry, especially in light of recent English events, but let's be frank: the whole horrible mess has been covered and discussed and analysed and dissected and pondered and everyone's feeling sad all the time. A few years ago a crazy man went crazier and massacred dozens of people in a shooting spree not far from where I live. It was covered relentlessly by the press for months, over and over, every single insignificant detail. By the end of it all, I was craving soap operas and pop music and Lego and teen magazines. So let's not dwell. Sure, cry for the families whose loved ones are dead or missing; marvel at the couple who survived rushing out of one of the stations when a bomb went off and climbing on a bus, only to then have that blow up; sigh relievedly for those of us with family in London who were on their way to work at the time but managed to miss it all and send mental condolences to anyone living there right now, struggling bravely with the aftermath But do it quickly. Don't dwell on it. Instead, put on The Offspring and dance madly around the living room. After all, you might die in a car crash on your way to work tomorrow, and wouldn't you rather have had your last night be a mad dance-a-thon than a mope? |
| posted by Bug @ 10:01 pm |
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| Wednesday, July 06, 2005 |
| Oh the shame |
* leave, madré, this one's not for your eyes * Ok, one of my tarty stories that I was SO not going to tell you but I find myself encouraged by the universe to share: Readers of my blog (hello, all 5 of you!) will remember that I took a sort of vow to behave myself late last year. You know, with boys. And kissing and stuff. And, like, sex. As in, not to have it randomly. And I've pretty much kept it so far which, if you knew me in my previous incarnation, you would recognise as a REALLY GOOD EFFORT But anyway. I was out and about (SUCH a daggy phrase) one Saturday about 6 weeks ago and had had a couple of drinks - more like a couple of dozen - and was at Iso (which I DON'T like but whatever, it was the only place still open) standing above the dance floor watching people dance and laughing at the people trying to dance (I know. I'm mean) when I noticed a HOT guy at the bar. And I mean smokin' HOT. Gorgeous. Yummy. Scrummy. Sexy and dishevelled and swarthy and European-looking (I'm a sucker for the Mediterranean look. Italians, mmm) and just generally delicious So I was about 3 metres away from a HOT guy in this dark, smokey club but I could still see that he was looking at me and he could see that I was looking at him and then he left his friends at the bar and walked right past me without giving me a second glance. Well fuck that! I hadn't been giving a HOT guy my 'look' (yes, I have a look. I'm like Zoolander, only not as Ben Stiller-y) for nothing so I went after him. I got to the top bit of the club and he was sitting on a bench waiting for me. He walked up to me without saying a WORD and pushed me against the wall and snogged me (which would have been GREAT had he been a good kisser. Which he was NOT *sigh*) and then asked if I wanted to go for a walk No, I'm not that naive. I knew that was code for "I want a bit" but he was HOT and I was DRUNK so I thought "fuck it, why not?" and went for a 'walk' I'm not going to go into great detail because ew, my brother reads this but while no, I didn't sleep with him, there was a bench under a light in the middle of the wharf (where half the pubs are) and he went home smiling. Ok? Reading between the lines? Don't get all disenchanted and gross-she's-a-tart with me cos trust me, I doubt I'd have gone with him sober Although he was HOT But here's the weird thing. The freaky thing. The more than slightly disturbing thing. Boo was reading the paper at my house yesterday and suddenly burst into hysterical laughter. She thrust the paper at me and watched me, still laughing, waiting for my reaction. I thought she was crazy until I looked at the page: the newspaper does little blip interviews with random people on the street every week and this week they had decided to interview the HOT guy! No darlings, that's not the weird, the freaky, the more than slightly disturbing thing. What made Boo turn herself inside out with laughter was the fact that this HOT guy... is 18!!!! I'm 22!!!! That's just WRONG! My SISTER and her friends are that age! And they're KIDS! I should never be allowed to drink. More especially cos Boo is NEVER going to let me live this one down! p.s. He was Portugese. Viva la sexy Europeans! |
| posted by Bug @ 8:13 pm |
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