It’s all downhill from here..

I’m full. Like, I need a nap kinda full.

It all started yesterday when:

1. I told Sgt. Burpee that I was feeling unwell, which was kinda true.

2. A girlfriend had broken up with her other half and needed a wine and a whine.

3. I have no self control.

So during the afternoon I get said phone call from distraught friend, I offer consolation in the form of food, alcohol and an ear to vent into. Being the good friend I asked, “Any dinner requests?” to which she replied “I hear you make a pretty mean nachos”.

Who was I to argue? The girl was in distress!

I though I better add some chocolate, vodka and cider just to wash it down (considering Sr. B wasn’t going to be at home, I could get away with it).

When I arrived home, I was understandably starving so I thought I’d better make a pizza as a pre-dinner snack. In my defence, I only served half of it as an entree. I didn’t want to ruin my appetite or anything…

I slept very well last night knowing I didn’t have to weigh in this morning AND I had left over pizza for breakfast.

The only downside to this story is none of it contained chilli. How do y’all do it? Live a little!

So I started today armed with 2 slices of cold pizza and a butterscotch espresso chiller (don’t look at me like that, skinny milk and no cream so it doesn’t count!) which eased the pain of knowing 3 of our jobs fell through and I was going to have to call the unlucky candidates.

Being Friday, we have office pub lunch as a tradition. I noticed potato wedges on the menu, which I’ve been craving since forever. I wasn’t going to be ‘unhealthy’ so I had squid with thai salad as a main and only ate about 3/4’s of the wedges the table agreed to share. Plus 2 glasses of white wine so I could wipe away any memory of this morning.

Suddenly, I’m not feeling so crash hot and am in desperate need of a nap.

 

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Silver lining? Clouds?

What do you want first, the good or the bad?

Well let’s keep it the way I like it (it’s my blog so I suppose you don’t really have a say in it).

BAD stuff: Aside from me feeling like death warmed up this morning, my manager walks into our office today and starts up an open conversation about crap (well, not literally). Somehow, this coversation isn’t intended to include me. The other two girls in the office got to put their two cents in about the topic, though neither had any experience in the matter. This was met with great enthusiasm by my manager. I, who does have some knowledge on the topic, was not consulted or even so much as glanced my way for any input. Please note, it’s happening about 5 feet from my desk in an open plan office!

For someone who loves to talk, it really frustrates me that I’m left out of these conversations, particularly if I have something worthwhile to say about it. I don’t know why. My mum used to say to me “but why do you care what they think?” I don’t, but I just want to be part of the group – you know?

In an attempt to not look like my parent’s dog when he get’s left outside and does the stalker stare at you through the glass sliding door, I logged onto my email to see what was happening in the world outside work… which leads me to:

GOOD stuff: I got the results back from my assignment I sent in yesterday!

And it was good 🙂

 Achieved Competency

Congratulations Myeverythinghurts –  This is an excellent pass

You have submitted a strong assignment that demonstrates good understanding of the ethical issues in this case study

 Well done

 You have effectively demonstrated the skills and knowledge to meet the performance criteria specific to the unit.

So hats off to me and up your bum with a rubber thumb to the rest! 😛

Uh oh, we’re in trouble…

Sr. Bachata tells me yesterday “I went to look at your blog yesterday and there had been no updates”.

I didn’t think anyone would care, I know I didn’t. The only things going on in my life at the moment are the same ol’ ones that have been going on for the last few months.

Well, that’s not entirely true…

Over the weekend, I agreed to stop eating chilli for a month. I did cry for quite a while over this. I even tried to bargain my way out of it by giving up alcohol instead. I was greeted by a firm “No. If you start now, you can be back to eating chilli by Christmas.”

Le sigh.

I’ve had a few raised eyebrows about this so I thought I should explain the reasoning behind it.

For those of you who know me, I put chilli on EVERYTHING. I even carry around a bottle of habanero Tabasco in my handbag for those times when the waiter forgets my emphasis on “extra hot”. I have a cupboard full of chilli sauces, flakes, powders, marinades and pastes, it even goes with my breakfasts (although generally breakfast will be last night’s dinner if i have my way).

Since we came back from Fiji, my digestive system hasn’t been quite right. TMI, I know.

Sr. B seems to be blaming the chilli for it. I’m defending the chilli – with guns blazing (or is that my bum the next day? shh!).

It’s not the chilli’s fault. It’s delicious and makes the food sing! It brings excitement to bland noms! Sometimes, it even makes me see stars… but I usually try to avoid hallucinogenic yummies…

I lost the battle and now it’s a long face at dinner time and whinging about how boring everything tastes. The sad truth is, my intestines haven’t been making those scary Paranormal Activity kind of noises lately and there hasn’t been any phrases along the lines of: “We need to go home RIGHT NOW and I’ve got dibs on the toilet”.

Classy, isn’t it?

So roll on December 19th – then I will stuff myself so full of chilli, I may spontaneously combust! Ala, Homer J

 

In other news, I’ve started TAFE – Community Services and just about finished my second unit. YAY!

I’ve also been working out super hard with Sgt. Burpee – OMG, I can’t even stretch my arms properly today and I’m supposed to be doing a boxing class tonight. Just kill me now. 4 weeks to go until I finish up there – 4 kgs? We can only try, right?

And just to record this piece in history: apparently Flitty in her post-lunch crazies decided it would be a wonderful idea to try out jumping onto our second story balcony railing while it was pissing down rain.

Needless to say, she packed herself when she realised nothing was on the other side except a 15 foot drop and horror of horrors, it was wet! Let’s hope that won’t be happening again in a hurry…

Any chilli substitutes, let me know!?

 

The nerves!

So I just submitted my first assignment online for my Cert IV – Community Services Work.

I’d already emailed the teachers to ask about length of answer, hours of research, presentation preference – with very unhelpful answers (though replied within 24 hours). I did quite well last time I was at uni but for some reason I’m having flashbacks of my first university assignment when I was barely 18 and getting a big fat FAIL on there.

I’d never failed anything in my life! Sure, sometimes I’m a little lax about studying but to not even pass something? Unheard of! I couldn’t even comprehend what I’d done so badly as to deserve it. Needless to say, the lure of a full time working salary and the battering of my ego caused me to drop out, right after the cut off date for being charged, and scored myself a $5,000 bill that’s still 10 years later in the process of being paid off. Way to kick me when I’m down, tertiary studies~!

Studying by distance education is great, I can read my notes online, spend my procrastination time actually doing something useful and get a qualification out of it.

The downside is, I’m a talker. I discuss everything. Sr. B can vouch for that, I’m surprised his ears haven’t fallen off already!

Having to download, analyse, prepare and submit assignments without having other students to discuss it with makes me nervous. We all know one time we’ve taken one interpretation of something we’ve read and felt devastated when we realise we were the only ones who thought that way (Dress codes for parties spring to mind).

So now I’m waiting with bated breath on the result of this assignment – it seemed really straight forward but I second guess myself. It couldn’t just be a straight forward Q&A? It must have some fine print on a sheet I didn’t receive that it needed to be translated to Swahili and on pink paper. I’m suspicious.

Where’s my big F?? Just get it over and done with, give me the feedback then I can move on. I’ll repeat the subject. I’ll pull an all nighter to get it to standard. At least I’ll have some clarification on what to work with!

Now, this all may have something to do with being critiqued today at work about my writing style, errors in a report I’d compiled and how much she had to rephrase my work. All in front of another co-worker.

But before all that, I was asked “You rushed this report didn’t you?”

What was I supposed to say?

It was humiliating, but she was right.

Then after the verbal thrashing, she said I’d done a good job. What the…?

Promised Sr. B…

Promisied Sr. Bachata I would also post this recipe as he loved it and I’m not someone who ‘cooks’..not that this is really cooking..

Turkish Chicken Sandwiches.

1 x Turkish Bread
1 x Tzatziki dip
1 x Spicy Capsicum dip
1 x leftover Roast Chicken (shredded)
1 x tasty cheese (grated)
1 x jalapenos (diced)
1 x spinach
1 x mushrooms
2 x cloves garlic (crushed)
2 x tbs seeded mustard
2 x butter chunks

1. So, I threw 2 tbs of butter into a saucepan, following i wilted the spinach, mushroom and warmed up the roast chook pieces while I was drinking a G&T, when almost done, added crushed garlic and mustard.

2. Toasted outside up desired pieces of turkish bread

3. On one side, smeared tzatziki and grated tasty cheese. The other spread with spicy capsicum and layered chicked/spinach/mushroom goop. Top with sliced jalapenos.

4. Toast til all looking yummy.

5. Put yummy ends together.

6. Eat.

Be warned, I tore the roof of my mouth with it’s deliciousness… and it’s now been devoured and therefore have no photographic evidence of it (I was starving!)

I thought this all seeemed pretty logical but via Sr. B, some men don’t understand how easy and yummy toasted turkish breads can be; or how gormet the can look when cut into nice wedges…

Anyway, a few too many beverages in, I’m no use to add anything useful to this blog.

If one man can manage to impress a girl via a tasty and cheesy toasted turkish bread, my work here is done!

Happy Sunday, y’all!

Aside

A seagull is not a bat.

So I promised Sr. B that I would blog about this…

Friday night after eating my weight in pork knuckle and mango beer, we decided to take a little walk around the markets at North Rocks.

Mostly just to try and get the food moved from just below our throats via gravity into our stomachs. Wow, I was bloody full! You know when you can’t even burp because there’s no space? That was me. Not that I didn’t drag Sr. B into a boutique chocolatier so I could eyeball their goods…

We stopped by a silent disco and oggled the dorko’s having a boogie with their headphones on. Then I decided I wanted to be one of those dorkos and to Sr. B’s better judgement, he joined me. We had some crapola 80’s doof doof on first, which he particularly liked, I pretended. Then we had “Little L” by Jamiroquai which appealed to both of us so we started grooving, bit of half hearted Bachata.

Followed by a salsa track! Needless to say, handbag went on the ground and we broke out into a frenzy of twists and turns; nearly lost my sandals but enjoyed ourselves anyway!

In high spirits and slightly less full tummies, we headed back to the car.

On the way, we passed a tree full of fruit bats squawking away. We couldn’t quite figure out the sound but a bit like a parrot, I suppose.

Me being in my good mood decided I would like to impersonate one. Try as I might, the closest I could get was a chicken or a seagull. I must admit, I looked like a crazylady – must worse than the silent disco dorkos…

It reminds me of whenever I try to do an accent, it will inevitably sound Jamaican or Indian; or worse, a combination. I cannot do any other accents, period.

Apparently this filters through to the animal world too.

Sr. B thought it was hilarious and thoroughly enjoyed watching me get more and more frustrated at my lack of fruit bat ‘accent’….

Lucky I didn’t force feed him another pork knuckle. hmph!

Lest we forget

Rememberance Day – everytime I take the minutes silence, I cry. Even well before my brother in law was injured, even before I really knew anything about the atrocities of war. I can only imagine how strong this minute can be for people who lost their partners, fathers or loved ones while in battle. I don’t imagine it gets any easier to deal with as the years go by, when you have 60 whole seconds to dedicate your being to the souls of others lost.

Phew. Had to take a minute there to compose myself and reapply the makeup. Don’t want to be too dramatic at work. Though apparently, my mum is proud of me doing it. At least that’s one win for the day…

So. Updates on stuff.

1. Teeth. It appears the cavity was not a cavity, in fact, it was the smaller brother of the hiding chilli flake. How embarrassing. Not to mention the fact I must have looked like the world’s biggest hypochondriac and paid much more than I should have… would have been a better investment to go buy an electric toothbrush instead. hmph.

2. Sgt. Burpee. Well, he certainly lived up to his name this morning! After making me do a 1 minute plank (after 20 minutes of torture) he decides to place 6 x 1kg weights on my back; for each one that falls while I’m holding the plank = 10 x burpees. Needless to say there was not going to be so much as a fart coming from me! With 3 seconds to go, the bugger pushes one off!!! I was not pleased. Nor were my screaming arms, shoulders, abs or thighs. I did it diligently. It sucked.

So the final decision about whether to stay or go came yesterday. Sr. B told me he’d found a gym close to home with a 3 months for $300 kind of deal. They have weights classes in the morning and he’s keen as mustard to go himself (well, he was yesterday, more of that in a sec) and has promised me he will get up at 6am twice a week and come to work out with me. We shall see. So to come to the point of this, I sent in the official letter to the manager of the gym and he was quite nice about it, told me my last date and asked about Sgt’s performance. I gave him a thumbs up review.

To elaborate on Sr. B, he went yesterday to an ‘assessment’ appointment with the new gym. They took the measurements and told him about the evils of being fat and enjoying yourself and that they could provide the solution. Of course. So his little asian trainer took him around the weights and developed a program for him of 15-20 reps x 4 sets. Being only an introduction, they only did 1 set of each.

Boy was there some whinging this morning!

I’ve been told over the last month or so about how much easier it is to do a weights session than it is to do a boxing class. I’ve been disagreeing and my Elvis-like legs have been backing me up. Finally, there’s some sweet revenge!

I happily taunted away, telling him “Imagine how bad it will be after you have to do ALL 4 sets with only a 30 second break between!?” Surely, I’m allowed to do it for just one day?

All in all, it looks like 2012 will be our year to actually find some balance between being responsible and being indulgent. I’m determined because I hate having to change outfit 5 times before I leave the house because my stomach flab won’t behave and I’m sure Sr. B is sick of me tickling his stomach from the  left at the bottom of his shirts.

So what are we doing to celebrate this new discovery, I hear you ask? Well, we’re heading out to the healthiest place I know for dinner: Lowenbrau! We have a hankering for all this cardiac infarct producing and washing it down with flavoured beer!

Oh well, we can start back on Monday, right?

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