After going to the gym again tonight, I went down to the supermarket to pick up some groceries for lunches. On the list was some meat, cream cheese, fruit bars and some frozen meals.

As we walked through the meat department, a couple of security guards walked towards the staff entrance, holding a guy - a shoplifter - by the arm. They paused for a split second before heading inside, to make sure they had the items he was trying to get away with.

Mum said that she saw what the guy was trying to take - some meat and simple groceries.

I think it’s absolutely disgusting that groceries in this country are so overpriced that people are thinking the only way they can feed themselves is to steal food. Of course, food prices aren’t helped by the fact that we have two major supermarkets with no competition, and they can charge whatever they damn well please as well as pay the farmers a pittance. Corporate greed in its finest hour.

I just find it really upsetting, that people are having this moral dilemma where they can’t afford basic food items to eat, and they resort to trying to steal it. It’s not just that, either. More and more families are going to charities for help, as Mum has noticed the past few months at the Salvos. People that have never needed assistance before are scratching to try and make ends meet - and are failing.

It makes me wonder how the hell Matt and I are going to survive when we move, considering we’ll be renting, and also paying off a car, let alone trying to eat. Oh, and trying to pay for a wedding on top of all that. And maybe a two week honeymoon in Fiji. (A girl can dream, right?)

It’s all very disturbing, really. In my current state of mind a lot of things are upsetting me - things that I could normally brush off without a second thought - and this trip to the supermarket tonight was no exception.

I ran into an old friend the other night. I used to work with her, and it made the shifts go faster, she was that much fun to work with! This was back when I was still working in retail…

Anyway, this friend of mine (we’ll call her ‘L’) mentioned a recent event involving a mutual friend of ours that left me stunned.

This friend is about a year older than myself. She’s very quiet, very introverted, and she does her own thing. We get along pretty well, although sometimes it was obvious we had different interests, which is fine, of course! We’re both into scrapbooking, but somehow we’ve never shared our albums. Over the past few years, as you do with people you know, you form a list of sorts in your head, of things you would expect that person to do. This friend, I imagine her shopping, playing with puppies and kittens…
(Should I say here that my friend never seemed fazed by the fact she hadn’t had a boyfriend. She seemed more interested in everything else going on around her.)

Which is why I was so gobsmacked when L told me this friend had taken off with L’s partner of about 10 years.

L and our friend were quite close, hanging out together at each other’s places, going to Keith Urban concerts and the like. L’s explanation of what happened was: “We always hung out at my place watching movies, and then he decided he’d fallen in love with her, and they decided they’d rather watch movies together. It’s made work quite awkward…”
(L and our mutual friend still work together at the same place I used to.)

Now, I know, at this stage I only have one side of the story. But I have to say, this is never something I would have expected of my friend. First of all, it’s a turd act, stealing someone’s boyfriend, even if you don’t know the person they’ve cheated on. It’s even worse when it’s a friend. Secondly, this might sound a bit wrong, but if I had’ve been asked to come up with a list of people who might have done this - my friend wouldn’t have even rated a thought.

It makes me wonder about a lot of other people out there. Has anyone else experienced something like this - hearing that someone you know has done something you’d never have thought them capable of?

I’ve been in shock all weekend. So has Matt, actually.

(PS. I’m sorry about my recent absence, I’ve had some stuff going on, but nothing I’d feel comfortable blogging about… maybe soon I’ll be able to elaborate a bit more!)

Last weekend Matt dusted off his PS2 - and I dusted off one of my games: The Sims Bustin’ Out.

I admit it. I love the Sims. I can’t really tell you why. Maybe because I’m a control freak?

Think about it, though. You are in total control of your Sim. You can order them around! Send them to work, clean the house, take showers (or not). Heck, you can even make them commit suicide. Although why you’d want to do that…

As a Sim, you make no decisions of your own. Everything is the result of a mouse-click. (Or the x-button, in this case.) It’s a no-brainer, isn’t it? It reminds me somewhat of being a kid again. No dramas. Money was only needed for cheap toys and lollies, boys had cooties, and the parentals were in charge. Ignorance is bliss.

It got me thinking…

Wouldn’t it be nice to have that total carefree feeling back? No needing to worry about working to put food on the table, keeping a roof over your head, and bills paid.

All you’d have to deal with is that massive white arrow constantly hovering over your head, instructing you to do things like “Go to Work”, “Prepare dinner”, ”Use toilet”, “Flush”, and others.

I could handle that.

(This post brought to you by exhaustion, overworkedness and general craziness.)

I’m getting married. In like, 15 months. Me. Getting MARRIED.

(!)

Can someone please tell me where the past 18 months have gone - you know, when I first got engaged, when I wasn’t quite 19 and it all seemed so far away? Because holy shit, I don’t think I can go much longer without starting to plan this wedding. It seems I’m being constantly reminded of the fact that it’s not that far away - and although I still have that girly, giddy “ohmigod, I’m getting married!!!” feeling, it’s now accompanied by a feeling I can only describe as: “And how the hell are we going to pay for all this?!”

Certain things have already been determined - I have an awesome best friend who is my maid of honour, and who is also going to help me make the invitations, place-cards etc. There’s my mum, who’s going to help with those, as well as helping with the buttonholes, corsages, and maybe even bouquets. And well, that’s about it.

Who’s the best man? I’m marrying him.

We’ll be getting married in a Catholic church, because although neither of us are overly religious, we like the idea of something traditional. (And on a side note, it would make my dad very happy.) I can’t even tell you what church yet - there is a nice one only a couple of streets away, but Matt’s vetoed it becaue he went to school there. Mum and I have spotted a nice church on the way to my work, so very soon Matt and I are going to go have a look and see if it’s a Catholic church. And if it is, I guess we’re booking it!

Then there’s booking the reception venue - which is made slightly easier by the fact that I’ll get a 5% staff discount by having the reception at one of the company venues. I’ve been to a couple of them now, and they’ve all been pretty nice. I guess it will depend what church we end up booking as to where we’ll have the reception.

I have to get my finger out my backside and almost become a permanent resident of my gym, because at the rate I’m losing weight, I’ll be the fattest person at my own wedding. And although people have started saying they can see a difference, I can’t.

That leads to the dress debacle. I want something simple, but elegant. I’m thinking a strapless, floor length gown with some sort of detail at waist height. I did see a nice, simple dress with a purple sash around the waist (love). I haven’t decided about a veil yet - I think I might have one, but nothing too big. And definitely no tiara! Also, should I hire the dress? Why buy a dress you’re only going to wear a few hours? Are there many places left that let you hire?

There’s the theme to think about - what colours? I defintely want purple there in some capacity. But what else? What flowers? What table settings? Who do you sit with who? What food?

What the hell am I getting myself into? I have been telling myself for months that it’s about the life together after the wedding, not the wedding itself - but you watch, in a few months I’ll be going bride-zilla on everybody’s asses!

Rings! There has to be rings, and that’s an issue in itself, because Matt wants a gold wedding band, but I don’t wear yellow gold. I want white gold - fair enough, considering my engagement ring is white gold. How can you have wedding bands that don’t match?! I will prevail! White gold!

Where do you even start when it comes to planning a wedding?

I know Matt was only joking when he mentioned running away and eloping, but holy heck, it would be a lot easier, and probably cheaper too!

I’m having a major mini freak out right now…

I am tired. Exhausted. Shattered, even.

It’s Wednesday, and so far this week, I’ve worked a grand total of 35 hours. Over three days. No wonder I’m tired. I had a lightbulb moment this week. End of financial year. Job in finance. Did not compute until Monday morning. Gah. I’m a real bright spark, no?

One more day. Then I’m taking my time back on Friday. Mainly to sleep. Might even go to the gym, depending on how game I’m feeling.

Speaking of the gym, I had my regular PT session tonight, and 15 seconds in, I felt like saying “Lady, I’m really not in the fucking mood for this,” but I stuck it out, and 30 minutes later, I was jelly-leggin’ it back to the car.

So, to sum up: Excessive working hours + hardcore gym session = deaded Kelly.

Goodnight.

# Got to work late because traffic was worse than usual. Apparently every other bastard was running late, although I left on time!
# Ankle was sore all day because of riding the clutch in said traffic.
# Wore my cute (super-high) heels and realised 30 minutes into the day why I hadn’t worn them for awhile…
# Worked.
# Ate the lunch I prepared at 9,30pm last night - and wanted more.
# Did more work.
# Answered my constantly ringing phone amid building frustration.
# Tried not to laugh at the guy on the phone who asked me how to spell “Fitzy’s” - that is, until I hung up.
# Drove home in considerably less time than it took me to drive to work in the morning.
# Went to the gym for the FOURTH DAY IN A FRICKIN ROW - YAY!
# Ate dinner - lemon chicken!
# Went to bed at a fairly respectable hour (as in, as soon as this post is finished.)

Tomorrow:

# Work.
# Lunch - a farewell meal at the local club for one of the girls who finishes up on Friday - a temp who’s been with the company longer than I have!!
# Work.
# Hairdresser to get my regrowth touched up.
# Dinner. Probably gourmet pizza. It’s next to the hairdressers!
# Bed - and counting my lucky stars that I didn’t have to go to the gym!

I bought lunch through a drive-thru today, for the first time. Actually, I’ve been though a drive-thru before, but as a passenger. Today, I actually drove my own car through one.

Lame, but somewhat exciting.

I refused to do it because I knew I’d realise just how convenient it would be to go to my favourite take-out joint, drive up, and have the junky goodness handed to me, with no effort. Now that I’ve done it, I know I was right! It’s going to be oh-so-tempting to grab something while I’m out, then park the car and stuff myself silly. That’s a warning sign of someone who’s ashamed of themselves where food is concerned - buying it, and eating it in the car so you can dispose of the packaging and you won’t get caught! I had a not so shining moment several months ago where I bought a tube of Pringles, and shoved handfuls down my throat at each red light as I was driving around.

I’ve been to the gym 3 days in a row this week, and tomorrow will be 4, since I have my PT session. I am really trying to get my act together where my health is concerned, and I’ve lost weight before, but for some reason I’m finding it extra difficult this time. I just can’t seem to find the motivation, which is shocking for someone who’s 21st birthday is 6 months away, and a wedding 9 months after that! I’m just so disgusted with myself and my body, I want to comfort myself with my bad habit - comfort eating. It’s something I’m trying to break, and I know it will take time.

Let’s just keep our fingers crossed and hope that I never succumb to the drive-thru urge again, okay?

(No, I’m not drunk.)

Over the past few months, I’ve noticed my attitude towards alcohol drastically changing. I enjoyed the odd drink, never drinking to excess (okay, well maybe just once…), and never having a second thought about it.

But now? I’m over it. Allow me to elaborate.

I’m over how people act when they drink. I don’t need to have someone have a few bevvys and then spend the next 3 to 4 hours talking at me and repeating the same sentences over and over, trying to start an argument. The smell of alcohol on someone’s breath is enough to turn my stomach. As for kissing someone who’s been drinking, well, I don’t consider it overly pleasant.
(Speaking of kissing, I have to get used to this new piercing being in the way - made slightly more awkward at the moment by the fact that the swelling has gone and the bar is sticking out by a mile.)

I don’t like the feeling of everyone drinking around me, and I don’t feel too happy about having a drink ‘just because’. Whether it be ‘just because’ everyone else is doing it, ‘just because’ it’s there, or ‘just because’ summer has come and it’s the right ’season’ for it.

The only exception to this new-found frustration was Friday night, when I went out with some work colleagues. I really fancied a cocktail, but since I was driving, I couldn’t indulge. So I laughed at all the jokes, and watched everyone else enjoy their Fruit Tingles.

I’m just over alcohol and what it does to people. I know most people are harmless, but it still bugs me. I hate people drinking and then acting stupid. I hate people drinking and then saying things they don’t have the guts to say when they’re sober. And lately, I just hate people drinking altogether.

So what does this mean? That I won’t have another drink? I don’t know. I didn’t drink a lot to start with, so I’m not conditioned to drink lots, even if I wanted to. Two or three drinks and I go to sleep. I can’t even say I’ve ever been drunk - Matt will try and tell you otherwise, because there was this one time I downed a Smirnoff Black in 2 minutes flat and then dissolved into a fit of giggles. Utter stupidity, and even though I was tipsy, I knew it and I felt like a total fool.

I don’t understand why it’s been annoying me so much. If I never saw, smelled, or tasted a drop of alcohol again, I’d be quite happy.

Maybe I should just get over myself?

Last Sunday, I talked about it.

Thurday night, I did it!

Proof:

Yes, it hurt. Yes, it’s swollen - very swollen. And the jewelry? Looks ridiculous. The bar is 12mm long, to allow for said swelling, and the ball on the front is gigantic, but I’m stuck with it for now. I think I’ll go back in the next couple of days and get a smaller ball on the front - but the length of the bar has to stay until it’s fully healed, between 2 to 8 weeks.

It took me 15 minutes to eat two pieces of toast on Friday morning. And it was painful. Very painful. Brushing my teeth was easier than I thought, I just hold up that side of my lip and brush away! I’ve become more aware of what I put in my mouth, and it takes me longer to eat it, which is a good thing. The disc on the inside is sitting awkwardly because of the swelling, and if I’m not careful, the disc slips under my tooth and when I go to close my mouth, it pulls down on the bar. Not a pleasant feeling - but one I’m getting used to.

Things I do to myself - seriously. I got some priceless reactions at work yesterday, from people asking “is that new?” to being told “you’re insane, by the way!” to people looking at it, looking away, and trying not to look at it again. It doesn’t look too bad in this photo, apart from the obvious swelling, but actually seeing it in person, it’s ridiculous. Too big!

Anyway, it’s done!

I had an inappropriate thought today. My friend’s sister has a labret piercing that she’s had for so long she can leave it out and it won’t close over. Her party trick is removing the jewelry, taking a mouthful of liquid and spurting it through the open hole. I wonder if I’ll be able to do that eventually…. haha!

Organised - To put together into an orderly, functional, structured whole.

I spent all day cleaning my room. When I wasn’t cleaning, I was running up and down the stairs in the rain doing laundry. Trying to get organised, see.

My desk is now clean, my TV unit is now clean. My carpet is visible now all the crap has been picked off the floor. I retrieved God knows how many pairs of earrings from all over the house, and organised my jewellery so it’s now not only accesible, but simple to put back where I got it, too.

The only thing letting me down at the moment is the stuff that’s still strewn out all over my bed, which consists of a full basket of clean and dry laundry, some magazines, my jewelry boxes, and a garbage bag full of rubbish.

Anyone reading this would think I was a slob. I’m far from it - it’s just incredibly difficult to keep a 3×3m room clean when two people are constantly tripping over themselves and the enormous amout of furniture jammed into said room.

At least I can see surfaces now. For how long is up for discussion.