Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes

It's that special time of year when we celebrate the birth, some 23 years ago, of our Tranglin Man Anthony. It goes without saying that Anthony is one of the Top 2 Most Awesome People on Blogger.
I am the other one.
But let's focus on the birthday boy, and send celebratory hugs and love to our favourite checkered, sombrero wearing Jesus.

Short and sour

In summary:

I will be having my gall bladder operation on January 31st.
I've now lost 22.2kg, which doesn't even seem possible.
I'm going to do a uni degree online, starting next month.

Thank you for your time.

Bring on the Aussie Open

The tennis on Friday was every bit as horrendous as I thought it might be. I did manage to escape without sunburn by applying a new layer of sunscreen every 3 minutes, and I managed to sweat through not only my own clothes but the clothes of all those around me. I actually thought, while sitting in the direct noon sun that I would never, ever be a normal temperature again. We missed out on seeing James Blake play on Friday because whoever he was playing withdrew due to illness, so we watched some of a doubles match (I mean really, what's the point? Doubles isn't real tennis anyway... just like ladies tennis) and Moya vs. Gasquet.

I have a new reason to hate Carlos Moya, and it sounds a little bit like a Hollywood-style Columbian drug lord screaming "Caaarrrrlllllllllito!" approximately every 9 seconds. Why, why, why must his fans be so fucking annoying??

So last night I went back for the men's final and I have decided that I might be in love with James Blake. I do NOT love the annoying kids that sat behind me and talked incessantly for the whole 2 hours of the match, and alternated which player they were barracking for at least 800 times. Go Moya! Go Blake! Go Moya! Go Blake! Plus they were really stupid and ugly.

Tennis looks really stupid from this angle.

Tennistastic

I'm lucky enough to have the day off work today because I have tickets to the Medibank International men's semi-finals. I bought the tickets months ago and have been really looking forward to going - every summer I go tennis-mad and glue myself to the TV for every match so this year I decided I would attend my first ever famous people tennis day.

Of course... it WOULD be the one and only 40 degree (C) day we've had all summer, wouldn't it? And the stadium doesn't have a roof, so I'll be sitting there for several hours in the sun, simultaneously burning AND melting AND wanting to die, while sipping on a $4 bottle of coke and eating a small tub of $18 chips.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if the players that I wanted to watch were actually playing. Lleyton Hewitt? Injured. Rafael Nadal? Injured. Marcos Baghdatis? Loser. I have to settle for James Blake and a bunch of nobodies... and Mr. Has-Been, Carlos Moya. If only Roger Federer would play in Sydney instead of Melbourne for a change... it's enough to make a girl feel unwanted!

I'd like to fast forward to tomorrow night when I have the greatest tickets ever (5 rows back on court level on the side WITHOUT the umpire chair) to the men's final. Though, if James Blake doesn't win today I am going to have trouble remembering who any of the other players are well enough to cheer one of them on.

So if I'm just going to whinge about it why don't I just give it a miss and stay home? Because shut up, that's why.

You know what I hate?

Patterned toilet paper. I don't know why, but I just can't stand the stuff.
I do not want my toilet paper to be decorated with any motif of flowers, seashells, abstract design or puppy dogs. I especially loathe the puppy dog toilet paper. I do not want toilet paper that is blue, pink, lavender or apricot in colour.
All I need is white cottonelle toilet paper - regular sized roll, unscented core, 2 ply is fine. I will choose to scrunch or fold at whim, because I'm unpredictable that way.

I just really felt like I had to get that off my chest tonight.

Crap

I know I promised more posts, but I'm sick.
Oh so very sick.
Everything hurts.

Arghghsnswiurjclw.

Another post, already!

So they just showed this thing on the news about how people serve themselves too much food and then end up eating it all. Apparently they told the test subjects they were trying out a new brand of pasta, and dished them up a normal sized serving, before coughing and sneezing all over it. They then had the test subjects re-serve themselves a fresh plate - but they gave them a BIGGER plate - and watched as every time the subject served themselves 25% more food than they should have. It reminded me of a similar story I saw years ago about how up to a certain age children don't feel the need to eat everything on their plate - they simply stop when they're not hungry anymore. And then our attitude begins to change and we feel like if it's there on the plate then we have to eat it... couple this with the giant serving sizes that are now everywhere and you stop wondering why obesity is such a problem. If only we, as a species, were slightly smarter we'd also be thinner.

If I see one more weight loss meal replacement dietary supplement milkshake advertised ANYWHERE, I will begin a homicidal rampage.

Today at work I took a service call request for a company in Bong Bong St, Bowral. Hehe.

2 days in and still going strong

I've made it my mission to spend more time blogging this year, which means that if you're reading this it sux to be you.

I've seen 2 movies this week - I'll tell you my opinions on them and then you can repeat them to your friends as fact, and pretend that you've seen them.

The first one I saw was The Queen. I wasn't sure how much I wanted to see it, but figured there would be postmix Coke involved so I could put up with anything. This movie was actually really interesting and even at times funny. It was kind of jarring and very sad to see all the old Princess Di footage again, but I think they handled the actual crash in a very abstract way so it wasn't sensationalised. Is there nothing Helen Mirren CAN'T do? As for how accurate the whole film was, I couldn't say. It did seem to be pretty even-handed though I would say it did all lean a little towards a "Queen Liz is tops, deep down" sort of sentiment.

The second movie I watched was The Holiday and it was not good. I don't know why it never occured to me before what a horribly bad actress Cameron Diaz is! Someone obviously told her to just play this role as "neurotic" and she didn't try to read anything else into it. Plus, her character's backstory about her family was so effing pathetic I wanted to slap her hard, and not in a good way. Kate Winslet was lovely as always, Jack Black was what you would expect, and Jude Law actually put in a reasonable performance. Overall the movie was just boring and it seemed like whoever wrote it left it all to the night before it was due. A big wankfest, really.

And I'm spent.