Monday, April 18, 2011

This is either a valid rant, or I have wedding envy.

Weddings. They are EVERYWHERE. Ordinarily I would say 'awww' and get all mushy, but recently they have started to really annoy me.

Gripe one: I got a second round invite to a wedding.

If I am invited to a wedding as a back-up/reserve/2nd round guest, then in general, I will happily say no. This is because I do not have the money to pay to travel to a wedding (they all seem to be held well out of Melbourne these days), pay for a gift that isn't crap and buy something to wear. I also don't want to use my precious annual leave or waste a day of my weekend watching two people I have no opinion on get married. I'm very close to the people I do have an opinion on. In fact, I speak to them quite a bit. I'd be expecting that if they did second round me, at least they'd tell me about it. And at least they would have the brains to change the RSVP date before posting the invite.

To be honest, I was less concerned about the second round invite thing, and more worried about the fact that I haven't spoken to them in over 5 years and they still invited me. I don't even like the bride! And they know that! Why on earth would they invite me? Was I meant to look feral and make the bride look nicer by comparison? Do they have any idea how much I drink when I'm somewhere I don't want to be? Was that the point? Was I supposed to get drunk and maul the best man, thus making drunk Uncle Carl look sober by comparison? I will never know...

Second gripe: Lame wedding gifts.

I am the lowest paid librarian at my organisation (fair enough, because I'm also the newest and the one with the least amount of experience). This means that I don't have the money to spend $60 on hand towels. I would spend that much on a present, but forking over that much cash for tiny tiny towels makes me throw up.

Besides, hand towels aren't really going to make you remember your special day, unless I write 'Loved the wedding, sorry for what I did to your sister, no hard feelings' on them. Message to everyone: Do something better than a boring gift registry or it's a green light for me to do what I want.

Gripe three: Doubts.

During a few of the weddings I've attended, I thought 'This is not going to end well'. The cynicism isn't entirely my fault. One woman has only ever been with her now husband (missing out on soooo much). Another woman is clearly in love with someone else, but enjoys the flashy social circle her husband is part of. I have no problem with these women getting married, but it does make me kind of 'bleh'. I would never date someone who's never been in a relationship before. What a nightmare! Anyone I date should be old enough to have had a few girlfriends who will have done the bulk of the relationship training.* As for the second woman, people can be in love with more than just one person, but stupid things like hanging out with b-grade celebs shouldn't really influence a relationship. Unless you were getting to hang out with Dr. McKay. Or Sam Worthington.

*A relationship trained boyfriend is one that doesn't freak out when you ask him to buy you tampons, tells you that you are pretty AND smart, doesn't comment on how hot your best friend is and doesn't use Lynx. Of course, I have been trained to realise when I am being emotional for no reason at all (see previous post for an excellent example of hysteria without a valid cause), to not rave on about how amazing my male friends are, and to use the power of blogging to vent.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Ode to a great man

I've been on the receiving end of some cruelty lately.  I don't think I deserved the things that were said, but they're out there now and unfortunately for the people who decided to vent their frustrations in my direction, they can't be forgotten. The hurt that it caused got me thinking about the people in my life. One person in particular.

I have a friend called Nathan. My pic on the left is his work. I was firmly against the picture at first, then he did such a good job I had to apologise for all the dark looks I threw at him.

In case you don't get it: VOLTRON.
He keeps making these t-shirts and putting them up on Red Bubble. I am always whinging at him because I can't wear most of the colours that his shirts come in. I have brown skin, rather un-tameable black hair and green/brown eyes. There are certain things I can't pull off. But now he's made a shirt in fire engine red and another in a deep octopus purple. The colour sort of reminds me of tasty pulpo. God. Pulpo. Disgusting and delicious at the same time...

He's also got a lovely voice. I spent about 11 years not realising that he could sing, something which he seems to find rather amusing. I keep making him play The Good Gardner because he does it beautifully. Once I managed to convince him to play it to me when we were sitting in my lounge room. I think he found my staring a little bit freaky, but he got through it in the end by refusing to make eye contact.

But the best thing about Nath is that he has seen the best and the worst of me and he still wants to hang out. In situations where most people would fling up a bit of jerk-like behaviour, he takes a kinder path. I've seen him get angry (it was awesome, he told some jocks where to shove it) and I've seen him get frustrated, but I've never seen him be mean or cruel.

He's rad and I'm lucky to have him around.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Bunny from hell

Millions and millions of chocolate rabbits and eggs are out and about in Melbourne. You can't escape them. They pop up in the most unlikely places, ready to give you diabetes and Easter cheer.

One in particular is destined to trap me again and again. It's the Lindt bunny. I've always loved them, with their cute little red bows and their adorable little golden bells. But they are over $5. And I am not paying $5 for a little chocolate rabbit. It's absurd.

I was sitting on the couch the other day watching a doco on rainforest animals (seriously, this is what I do on weekends), and I heard a rustling behind me. And then I heard the tinny sound of a little golden bell. And yes, it did sound golden. You could both hear and feel the gold dripping into your ears. From around the corner of the couch poked a little golden Lindt bunny, closely followed by a smiling Mr G.

"Shop at Hot Potatoes. They don't have Lindt"

I naturally thought 'oh how lovely' and we unwrapped the bunny ready to eat the damn chocolate and enjoy David Attenborough. Then I actually put a piece in my mouth. It was WONDERFUL. Entrancing. I simply cannot describe how spectacular this stupid chocolate bunny was. It was like that dream I had where Sam Worthington and I went shopping for toilet paper at a $2 store.

I want to break it into pieces and melt it onto ice-cream. I want to grate it into hot milk. I want to melt it in a little saucepan and then climb into bed and eat it straight from the pan with a teaspoon. But I doubt I'll ever get that far. I'll buy one, leave it on my bedside table for a few days, then in a moment of weakness I'll nibble the ears. Then about 5 minutes later it'll be gone and I will be feeling miserable.
The big one reads the Herald Sun. Pure evil.

The Lindt bunny has joined my list of evil foods that I cannot resist easily and must therefore avoid forever lest we have a repeat of the great expansion of 2006.

1. Apple and custard scrolls from Baker's Delight
2. Cream cheese
3. Lindt bunnies