Thursday, July 27, 2006
Don't you just love Dads?
Bit of a mixed-bag post this time around. I'm heading off to try and buy the newly-released album by Lily Allen which has the most marvellous songs on it. That girl truly does rock. It's a little weird, too, to think that this London girl who has her own MySpace site managed to get her song 'LDN' picked up by Triple J, the national Australian kind of 'alternative' radio station (alternative in that they do NOT play pop music, instead they play lots of Australian bands, and bands like Wolfmother, The Streets, Youth Group, get the picture now?) when the only place it was available was her myspace site (I think), and now her album which has only just been released, like, last Saturday (or maybe it's this saturday coming) is 'feature album' on Triple J and receiving heaps of airplay.

I attempted to build bridges with my officemate Mia this week. We still don't talk all day long, beyond, 'morning, how are you?' Then, on Monday morning, when I asked Mia how she was she said 'Oh, okay.' 'Only okay?' I inquire. 'You're usually good!'. 'Oh, I broke up with Dave last week.' 'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,' I responded, then we sat in silence for the rest of the day.

I know, what a pathetic response I gave her! But I honestly didn't know what to say! I don't know her very well at all, despite the fact that we sit in a room probably 4 x 4 m² together every day, and have done all year. We just don't talk. It was like we took an instant dislike to each other. I blame our past lives. We must have been bitter enemies. And what could I say, in the obvious face of her heartbreak, given that I have no idea who did the breaking up, and that they seemed to be absolutely devoted to each other and almost too soppily in love. They would talk on the office phone at least once a day, always concluding with declarations of how much they loved each other, they lived together and spent all their free time together, oh, and they had a pash-fest here in the office once with me sitting at my desk (walked out in disgust during that one). And he must have loved her heaps, because she doesn't shave under her arms (I have such great logic).

So, Monday night I sacrificed Desperate Housewives, Greys Anatomy and my sleep and whipped up two batches of cupcakes, one plain and one chocolate, and iced them in many different lurid shades topped up with coloured sprinkles, got up Tuesday and drove them into uni at 7.30am, left them on her desk with a note saying 'Nothing cheers a girl up like cupcakes, especially with lurid sprinkles) then drove the 30 mins back to my home suburb, dropped my car at the mechanics and walked home. Wednesday I arrived in our office and Mia thanked me and said how nice it was and how thoughful. And . . . then we went back to our same old sitting in silence. I guess some people just aren't meant to be friends.

Yesterday I had to drop my dad in at the hospital in Hobart. I hate driving with dad anywhere because he a) always criticises my driving - even if he doesn't say anything I can see him thinking bad things, and b) I have to talk to him. He has me captured, unable to escape. Good old Dad sparked up with telling me about some happenings at my old school, which my younger brothers still attend, which have resulted in my youngest brother and other members of his class having to give police statements (God, it was bad enough when I was there, but it's deteriorated so much since then - nothing like a good ol' private Catholic school). He then moved onto something which I had previously banned him from talking about, after one evening when we had a massive fight over it with lots of yelling and tears (on my behalf). Obviously he forgot about the ban. He opens with "I'm glad you started doing all this gym stuff. You were getting a bit lumpy."
Great. My own father tells me I was 'getting a bit lumpy'. I just adore being described as 'lumpy'.
'You've toned up around the hips and bum. You may have gained weight, but you've toned up. Can you notice?'
I have bemoaned on numerous occasions that since doing gym classes all year I've gained 5 kilos and weigh the most I've ever weighed in my life. I know that muscle weighs more than fat but having to admit to 60 kilos is darn difficult for me to do (I'm only 160 cm, just under 5'2).
'Great. Thanks dad. Just don't say anymore.'
'What? I'm paying you a compliment. Oh, you were never fat, none of you have ever been fat (referring to me and my brothers) or had any problem with your weight.'
'You just said I was lumpy!'
'Yeah, but you aren't anymore.'

And Dad still seriously thinks he was just 'pumping my tyres', as he puts it. Paying me a compliment about looking good and inspiring me to continue on at the gym. He relayed this conversation to mum, as he couldn't see why I was annoyed. She said it's a 'backhanded compliment'. But he's been banned again from commenting on my weight and my figure.
posted by Cecilia @ 3:48 pm   5 comments
Monday, July 03, 2006
The 'let's just be friends' line
Hi All. I delivered the 'let's just be friends' line to Rob yesterday. It turns out that we didn't have quite so much in common once I was sober. Actually, given that he'd just told me all about his scary furious temper, I nervously said 'Rob, you don't mind if we're just friends do you?'. Luckily, Rob did not mind if we are just friends. Or so he said. He actually said 'I kind of thought it was heading that way' to which I replied 'I make a terrible girlfriend' which I'm pretty sure would be true. He then went on to say that I didn't really know him yet (hell yes, I know enough to know that he annoys the shit out of me, is always right and likes to embark on lectures about environmental impacts to me, the qualified environmentalist and the stockmarket, and that he has bad smoker/coffee breath), and then goes and contradicts himself and says 'I could tell once I got to know you better that certain things in your personality would make us not get along' or words to that effect. So, how come he knows me well enough to make that call, and I 'don't know him yet', especially given that he talks ALL the time? Like, ALL the time. Oh well, it's all over now. It is nice to be admired, but oh, I don't like the fall-out at all and the uncertainly of meeting up again once sober.
posted by Cecilia @ 3:17 pm   3 comments
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