C'mon Get Happy

Lately my moods have been like one of those pirate ships at a theme park - the ones that flip entirely right over. Today is a good day, so I'm going to list the things (the ones I can think of now at least) that make me happy, for future reference.

Scrubs

Hash browns

Michael J. Fox

The Socceroos

Weezer

Jason Bateman

Losing weight

My promotion

Coke Zero

Clean sheets / clean skin / clean pyjamas combo

The Simpsons

Johnny Depp

Conversations with my 3 year old nephew

When the person on Deal or No Deal only wins 50c

Kallun

Friends who tell me they belong on this list

Judging people with Tanya

Clothes that never need to be ironed

Margaret Atwood

Eskimo Joe

The ANZ ad with 'The Falcon'

The "Skeet Ulrich Ruined My Life" support group

My ultimate man: Roger Federer

I don't know

I should be feeling good... but I'm not.

Is It Safe?

I've been terrified of having my wisdom teeth removed for most of my life. It all started when I was visiting someone in hospital and sharing the room with them was a young girl who had her head wrapped up in bandages and was vomiting blood. "What the hell?" "Oh, she's just had her wisdom teeth out." Great, I can't wait.

Then some years ago my dentist told me my wisdom teeth probably would not fit into my jaw and I may need to have them removed before they come through. Over my dead body. I'm not going to be one of those people waking up in the dentist's office with a bruise on my chest where they had to kneel on me to get leverage. No fucking way.

This past week I have been in alot of pain, it feels like a wisdom tooth is trying to make its way to the surface and in the process rearrange my facial bones. Everything hurts - my head, my face, my neck, my jaw, my gums. It was time to just bite the bullet and see a dentist about it. I went this morning, and he did some x-rays on my mouth to see what was happening.

I don't even HAVE wisdom teeth.

Best.
News.
Ever.

So Angry I Can't See Straight

I HATE my job.
Yesterday I was treated like shit and yelled at by a customer who had no reason to be angry, and then she hung up on me while I was talking. I've never experienced real rage before, but I'm pretty sure that was the reason my vision blurred and I could feel things moving in my head. It's not that one particular rude friggen bitch that made me so angry, it's being treated like garbage constantly, it's about a total lack of motivation and happiness at work... it's knowing that my hatred of my job is infecting the rest of my life.

I will get out, but I'm not silly enough to leave with no money or somewhere else to go. I have a plan, and I'm working on it everyday. It does not involve fire.

C'mon Aussie, C'mon C'mon

Tonight our Socceroos play their first game in the World Cup '06... the whole country has gone soccer mad because it's the first time in 32 years that we've qualified to play.

Don't get excited, we've never won a World Cup match.

We've never even scored a World Cup goal.

And we just benched Harry Kewell.

Soccer is not our strong suit - even so, I'm quietly confident we can whip Japan tonight. Please cross your fingers for us.

Tool

I always knew there was something about Morris Iemma I didn't like - ever since he took over as Premier of New South Wales from crowd favourite Bob Carr, there's been something a bit off about him. Maybe it's the vacant, glassy stare he plasters on for every press conference. Maybe it's that he has the personality of a dry sponge. Maybe it's that when he got the job of Premier everyone in his electorate said "Morris who? Never heard of him."

But now I have an exact reason - he's a fuckwit. Let me set this up; Iemma's electorate is Punchbowl, which isn't a very rich area. Vaucluse is a much wealthier part of town, and far enough north for the people there to look down on those in Punchbowl. At a recent Labor party dinner he remarked that the comedian who introduced him was "the first person to move from Punchbowl to Vaucluse without a balaclava". Sure, it's a bit funny but why is he shitting all over the people in his own electorate?

Afterwards, when he was asked why he would make such a stupid comment, he said that it was a joke and everyone should lighten up. "No one at the function was upset"... no, you're right. They weren't upset because it was a $500 a head dinner, and no one from Punchbowl could afford to go. My my, isn't it maaaaarvellous to be so very rich, Morris?

New Toys

I've come out of the dark ages at last - I have a new computer!! Though it DOES seem stupid to have spent so much money simply so I could buy and use a $100 mp3 player, I'm happy. I've gone a little download crazy with the music though, I LOVE being able to find all these songs I've wanted to have a copy of for years... only I was too tight to buy a $30 CD for one song. My favourite purchases so far are 'From the Sea' by Eskimo Joe, 'Pink Triangle' by Weezer and 'Counting the Beat' by The Swingers. I just had a great idea about reliving my childhood with some New Kids on the Block tracks, but I'm still hesitant to spend cash money on such a thing. Well maybe just one... shut up. I tried to get some Iron Butterfly for my mum to use as a ringtone on her phone but the songs I've downloaded are all in .wma format not mp3 and I don't know how to work that all out. Any clues?

So now that I have my ghd hair straightener, new laptop and pink mp3 player my life is officially complete. What, like that makes me shallow?

Life Defining Mistake #1

I heard this week that my 'ex-boyfriend' got married. I write that term as I'm making air fingers to emphasise exactly how loose that term becomes once someone reveals themselves to be a goddamn manipulative, cheating, selfish, duplicitous, delusional waste of space who put you through hell for what wasn't even a real relationship afterall. So it's pretty clear I don't have any lingering romantic feelings for Smug Cheating Bastard (SCB), and I'm in full understanding of what an evil person he is, but the news that he actually got married still makes me feel really... mad? Bad? Sad? 'Nauseous' is the word I'm looking for.

The trouble was that when I met SCB I had no self-esteem (still a problem) and was so amazed that anyone had taken an interest in me that I shut everything else out and jumped head first into a huge mistake. Looking back I don't know whatever possessed me to think that a short, sleazy, greying man 10 years older than me would be a good boyfriend, particularly given that we also worked together, which is seldom anything but a fast track to disaster.

I wonder sometimes about things I could have done differently in my life that might have protected me from falling into a trap set by someone like SCB. I went to an all girls high school, had ugly freckles and frizzy, nasty hair. I didn't go to any parties until my last year at school because the group I was in didn't have any parties to go to, which meant that I didn't meet many guys at all, not that I would have been able to speak to one if I met him. My self-esteem was so bad that when my sister bought me some makeup for my birthday one year I couldn't bring myself to start wearing it for fear that people would look at me and think it was ridiculous that I should make the effort at all. SCBs live for girls like me. What I wonder, though, is if I had given Robert Marshall my correct phone number at the end of Grade 6 (instead of a fake one given in fear of a boy ACTUALLY calling me) if I might have ended up with a boyfriend like all the cool girls, and avoided seeing myself as some kind of troll living under a bridge and being totally undeserving of being liked. And it was true, Robert did have a crush on me, I was the only girl in school allowed to use his walkie talkies. Yep, you heard right. Walkie talkies. I'm sure it was true love. Or a convenient excuse, anyway.