Big changes are ahead for me. I’m quitting my job to move in with my new man in Sydney, Adam. This’ll all happen in around the middle of March. This will prove very interesting as I know as much about Sydney as I do about the clitoris. (Damn you, homosexuality!)

I might have to get a haircut, too, to improve my job prospects. I was trying to grow it long and embrace the bogan within, but whaddya think? Should I go a crewcut?

It’s strange, people seriously have been emailing me asking me what Ms. J and The Rock (my workmates) have been up to since I stopped writing journal entries in February. They’ve unfortunately been transferred to a different department and I don’t get to see them a whole lot, but I do have to walk past Ms. J to get to the tea room at work so I usually annoy her then.

I’m now sitting around a new group of people. On my right is The Angry Brit. This guy’s from England and refuses to read newspapers because they (according to him) don’t report news. I’m not too sure what he thinks they aim to do. On my immediate left is Jolly Man, who always acts like he’s in the happy stage of being drunk. I like this guy. Then on my far left is Ms. B, who mimicks the antics of Ms. J remarkably well. She’s not quite so in your face as Ms. J and I don’t know her that well but she’s cool.

*****

Do you know what annoys me? People who go around collecting money for charities while you’re eating your lunch. Especially for charities that provide food to starving children. They really guilt you into giving money. I was at a food court in Geelong recently and just as I was about to take a bite of my food, someone thrusts a tin of money under my nose, and shakes the coins in the tin hard enough to deafen a small child. I always get guilted into giving money. Sure, I’ll give money if I think the charity is worthy and I can afford it, but otherwise it bugs me.

I’m also not a big fan of people collecting money at traffic intersections. I wish the Wilderness Society koala bear would collect money at an intersection so I could run it down.

It’s usually easiest to turn someone down when they’re selling fundraising chocolates and you’re eating your lunch. Especially if you already have a chocolate sitting next to you. You can hold it up and say ‘I bought THIS chocolate bar for $1.00 - why would I spend $2.50 on that no-name brand piece of shit for you to profiteer on, when I can enjoy Cadbury quality at a cheaper price?’

*****

I’ve got a pack of No-Doze tablets in my backpack when I go to work. Seeing as I’m not really a coffee drinker, I sometimes have a No-Doze tablet if I’m a bit tired in themorning. For some reason Ms. J sees this as a drug addiction. She believes that under no circumstances should anyone compensate for lack of sleep through pharmaceuticals.

Me: (gobbles No-Doze tablet)
Ms. J: You idiot! Get that shit out of here! (tries to grab pack from me and set it alight)
Me: (in half-asleep trance) Must… consume… no… doze…
Ms. J: You shouldn’t take that stuff. You should just sleep. That’s what you’re meant to do.

At this point, she then whipped out a Clear-Eyes dropper and gave herself eyedrops. Because she hadn’t had enough sleep. I kid you not.

*****

There’s a big guy at work who I can easily visualise as WWF material. At my work, if we don’t have anything to do often people will just read magazines or do crosswords. I spotted this guy doing a crossword called ‘The Gentle Touch’. I asked him why it was called The Gentle Touch, and he informed me politely that the answers to the puzzles in the crossword were words like ’sensuality’, ‘bond’ and ‘jab’.

Yesterday:

Ms. B: Has anyone got a toothpick?
Me: No…
Ms. B: Damn. I really need one.
Me: Have you got something stuck in your teeth?
Ms. B: Nah, just got one of those really small goobers in my nose it’s impossible to get out with a tissue alone.

I think she was joking. I think.

I’ve noticed Ms. B also has this craving for bags of chips all the time. It’s quite funny, I often deliberately change the topic of conversation to chips, and she’ll start saying ‘Oooh, chips, I really want chips.’ Then she’ll decide to go and get chips and come back with something like a Sesame Bar instead. Then five minutes later she wonders why she didn’t buy chips and starts craving them again.

At lunch today, Ms. J and a few other girls were looking at a Tupperware catalogue. I think I’ve just figured out one of life’s great mysteries: Men have girlie magazines, and women have Tupperware catalogues. It amazes me the level of excitement that can be produced over plastic storage containers. (God knows what sort of shenanigans go on at Tupperware parties).

I said to them that I couldn’t forsee one occasion in my life where I would EVER require the use of Tupperware. They all looked at me and tut-tutted under their breath, and Ms. J said to me that ‘the time will come in your life when you’ll turn to Tupperware’. Bullshit I’ll turn to Tupperware! I’ll never, ever use Tupperware.

*****

I think I’m part of the 0.01% of the gay population of Australia who doesn’t like Mardi Gras. Personally the whole thing puts me off being gay almost. Just not my scene, I spose, but then again the gay scene never was. At the moment I’ve been flying up to Sydney to organise stuff with Adam about moving in with him etc, and I realised I’d made a great mistake. I’m flying up to Sydney on Mardi Gras weekend when I had previously made a mental note to avoid the city at all costs on that weekend. Bah!

On the phone to Adam the other night:

Me: I just realised I’m visiting you on Mardi Gras weekend. You know how I feel about Mardi Gras.
Adam: Oh, don’t worry. You’ll love the float I’ve got organised for us.

(He’s joking. Fear not.)

*****

Ever since I got moved to this new desk at work, my hand is getting really sore. I have to put my hands up really high on the desk to type. When I went to go and talk to some people in the tea room about it, they all started making wanker’s cramp jokes. Grrr.

*****

Yesterday at work:

The Angry Brit: I think I’m a lesbian.
Me: Why?
The Angry Brit: Well, I like everything that lesbians do.

*****

There’s a woman at my work who left yesterday. She’s got a number of “allergies”, which I’m quite dubious about. She had over a month off work last year because of these allergies. Apparently she’s quite sensitive to toiletries (perfumes, soaps) and cigarette smoke in particular. Then WHY, I ask you, was she the last one to leave at work’s Christmas break-up? This was in a pub so filled with cigarette smoke even MY eyes were watering. Also, she gave a few of us parting gifts, and what were these gifts I hear you ask? LITTLE BAGS OF SOAP.

She also strikes herself as being a bit of an artist. Last year she made up a whole set of bookmarks for everyone, with cute things like little cottage houses and bunny rabbits on them. Except for The Rock. She scored herself a bookmark with a shark on it. We’re still trying to interpret that one, but we’re pretty sure it’s a sign that she’s not one of this woman’s favourite people. (I was one of the lucky ones to get a cottage house).

There’s another chick at work who for some reason doesn’t seem to like me that much. One thing that amuses me though, is that she’s always looking for a guy to go out with. She does some quite unusual things.

I’ve been told there’s one guy in particular at work that she’s after. He walked into the tea room recently, and she suddenly started talking to her friend almost at yelling level - ‘yes, and actually I REALLY NEED SOMEONE TO GO OUT WITH TO THIS FUNCTION ON THE WEEKEND.’ The poor guy’s eyes went really wide and he scuttled straight back out the door.

There’s this other thing she does. I’m not sure how to describe it. Whenever she has a glass of water and there’s a bloke nearby she likes the look of, she does the strangest things with her tongue. I’d never seen someone drink a glass of water erotically before.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 1st, 2000 at 10:57 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.