Calorie Out of Control

So I forced myself out of bed at 4:50am this morning for another session of gym. I wonder if I’ll ever go to the gym… willingly… I dragged my legs through the bicycle group fitness class and felt instantly satisfied with myself upon completion. So satisfied with myself that I decided to eat out for lunch, initially this was the plan:


- Roast Chicken
- Garden Salad


But it turned out to be this:
- Roast Chicken
- Garden Salad
- Bucket of Chips
- Gingerbread Wall (of the Gingerbread House)

Not to mention that I have dinner tonight at Doms to celebrate the birth of my father 50 something years ago. Doms is an Italian restaurant which sells Italian food, which is often full of carbs, which will convert to fat, which means I will need to exercise more. Unpleasantries :(

 Tomorrow I will have to drag myself to the 6:15am Body Attack class… I feel like I will break soon. If I’m going to break in half… I hope its because I will be too thin. Intention.

Public Holiday with Ricky

I grew up listening to the sexual sounds of Ricky Martin. I turned on the computer this morning, the usual routine on my weekday mornings. I popped in a couple of orange tictacs… and nearly choked of them. I haven’t noticed much of Ricky Martin in the last couple of years but today, news has confirmed that he is indeed gay.

THIS BODY AND FACE is batting for the other team.

I flicked through some of his pictures on the net, I realised that he has a very good looking body and very pretty face, the heart throb I remember him to be. Too bad for us gals :P

It’s the Easter Break very soon, that’s Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. A whole lot no-work… now that is a holiday. You know what… I am going to redefine Public Holiday.

 Public Holiday [puhb-lik hol-i-dey] noun – non-working day.

So every weekend will be a public holiday also. Who votes for me to run the country?

EASTER BREAK ----I’m weighing up options of how to spend my easter break. It goes like this: A) Camping at a secluded area 10 hours out of Melbourne.

Glen Elg National Park is the ultimate camping spot. The last three times I went camping with Mr V was at Glen Elg. Imagine a secluded spot right next to a massive river that you could literally roll out of the tent and throw your fishing rod out. Brim galore! A campfire was lit to allow us to cook unhealthy food for breakfast, lunch and dinner, usually consisting of packet noodles and spam ham or anything that didn’t require refrigeration.

We even decided to bring a whole chicken to roast on the campfire, though we obviously weren’t thinking clearly enough, that chicken ended up in the river as barley. To add to my top experiences in life, Mr V lodged a water bottle on the tree so that we could have a shower. As I stood under the tree, stark naked, rubbing shampoo all over my body… a speed boat load of people drove past. There was no time to cover anything, or even react.

I bought hand wipes to my next trip.

Although I enjoyed all my experiences, I did not enjoy the animal shit carpeting the ground. I shit you not when I tell you that I got out my mini shovel and shovelled ALL the shit in the surrounding area into ONE pile.

B) Camping at Cape Liptrap 2.5 hours out of Melbourne
This place sounds awesome. Its near Venus bay and its situated along a beach. You know what that means… surf fishing, fishing, boating and shell collecting. I would be wetting myself with pleasure if it were summer and I could beach all day but sadly, it will only be 24 degrees over the weekend. A bit too cold for my liking.

I wonder what its going to be?

It’s 4:30pm now, I’m accumulating energy… I can just feel it. Another 30mins and I’m zooming out of the office…

Misunderstand? or misplaced your brain?

Ok. This scenario:

Person A: Ok, I’m going to tell you something, please don’t tell Person C, yeh?
Person B: Oh Ok, what is it?
Person A: blablabla

Do you:

A)     Acknowledge this new-found confidential information and take it to the grave.

B)      Go tell Person C

If you’re A) then you are awesome, so go and live a long fulfilled life.

If you’re B) then you have a problem, and tadaaa, you are a bitchface.

I think there is something very complicated with the sentence above, it seems to cause lots of confusion and misunderstanding. Lets make sure we understand the sentence bit by bit.

[“I’m going to tell you something”] – I will communicate something via my mouth to your ear.

[“Please don’t tell Person C, yeh?”] – This is fucking confidential, if you relay this information to Person C, I will break your legs with a blunt knife.

Well… I wonder if I was clear enough?

I recently was graced by one of these morons who happily relayed my information over to someone else. I should have known that this moron had a loose mouth, I knew it but I didn’t want to be the cynical person I usually am. Well, look who got fucked over?

Let’s just say, you learn from your mistakes.

Blurry Weekend

I’ve learnt somewhere from someone or some source about something very true to the bone yet very hard to digest. We, humans, can’t live sanely without work. That’s the fact. We work hard to live and live hard to work, it’s a never-ending cycle. The criminal out in the streets is seen as an individual that is unable to work or unable to find work, and therefore begins to hate and steals to live. Its too often we see elderly people who are so eager and desperate for work but aren’t given any because of work capabilities. Or closes to ourselves, we see the young adult desperate for work, vowing to himself that he will do anything anyone gives him.

It’s not money that motivates us, it’s about having a purpose in life. I can say so for myself. I spent roughly 7 months looking and applying for any job out there. Initially, I was only applying for career jobs but after a couple of months, I applied for literally anything available. I remember telling myself “ok, you have no experience, you have no skills, just take anything and learn more”. Here I am, 7 months later in a full time job, hunched over a computer and getting dehydrated from office air-conditioning. I know that if I leave this joint, I’d be much happier with the time I can sleep in and the time I can do my own personal things. But I know for a fact, that I’d go crazy when I realise that my savings has dwindled down to rice and water every night.

I’m having these thoughts because it’s a Monday morning. Monday mornings are notoriously damaging to the health. It’s the elevator stop at Hell’s drop. All weekend, you ride the elevator up, higher and higher not worrying about a single thing… then along comes Monday. My weekend, for a fact, was awesome. There’s something awesome about spending time with your partner even if you don’t leave the house at all. I believe it’s still awesome if you are having rice and water every night and it’s done with your partner. It must be awesome if he spend most of the weekend eye-fucking your butt ;) all those half-squats at the gym were painful but well worth it!

Lately my cash reserves are slipping through my hands, I need to stop spending so much. But, before that, I need to buy myself a new set of sexy but slutty lingerie. For my man. Yeh… I’m just THAT great :)

Nihon e ikkimashou!

Nihon ikkimashou!

Ecstatic about this, I need to blog for a 2^nd time today. Yesterday I lingered at work till about 6:00pm frantically refreshing the Jetstar International Sale Fares page, racking my brain on whether or not I should book a mid year trip with Amanda. After much… “what do you think?” “what do we do?” “sure about this?” and even “omg… are we going?” I decided that nothing good will happen if YOU don’t make it happen. This is my postulate from now on. In order to succeed, I must prep myself FOR success, I can’t just sit here and wait for success to find me… I’ll probably be one of those old farts that realised they’ve won the lottery.

Husband: “Dear, I’ve bought the lottery”
Me: “Oh great…”
*lotto results on tv*
Husband: “Dear, I think we’ve won…”
Me: “$50million dollars? You sure?” (I am antagonistic by nature…)
*unfolds ticket slowly and looks at it*
*heart attack/stroke/heart failure…*

Hahahaha! So I whipped out my credit card and made the thing happen. So it turns out I am going to the land of the rising sun in September. Manda and I will have a blast! It will be expensive tho, when I get back… my wallet is going to be emptier than Jessica Simpson’s brain. That will not be nice.

Would be nice to have the above lottery ticket AND go Japan though… a nice dream.

Is the Gym the new Crack?

For two weeks now I’ve driven myself to attend gym in the wee hours of the morning before I head to work. I drag myself out of bed at roughly 5:00am and head to the gym for the 6:15am class. I can understand why gym junkies do it everyday, it seriously does give you energy for the day. You feel energized, stronger and not to mention, leaner. I enjoy being productive with my life, I feel proud and very satisfied because it takes a lot of effort and dedication to do what I am doing.

Woke up this morning with my alarm blazing at 4:30am, I pressed the snooze button and decided to not go to the gym. Now, funnily enough, I feel guilty and extremely fat. I feel sleepy because I miss that burst of energy the gym provides.

Are gyms the new crack?

I am withdrawaling at my desk, filling my head with unhealthy immoral thoughts about fatty food, and hating myself for being fat. The gym has an effect on most people that attend it, either attending it for the first time or returning to it after a long “supposed rest week”. Miss C recently joined the gym complaining about gaining weight, for someone that can’t be bothered to take a walk at lunch time; she’s committed herself to attending the gym everyday after work. Even so for myself, I get scolded by the fucks at work for arriving late to work because of gym yet I am still wanting to intend. Gym has a drawing power greater than the black hole in space. Scrawny guys envision muscles on their bodies, women envision rake thin bodies, muscle men envision, well… more muscle, the club owner envisions more money.

I don’t feel different or look different. My arms are still as large as they were before, my hips are still pregnant with my love handles, I don’t feel particularly more healthier. I think the fact that I have a purpose to go to the gym in the morning is one of the biggest factors of why I attend. Sure, getting thin is a great part of it, but I like the satisfaction of knowing I did it. Knowing I woke up in the morning when 90% of the country is sleeping, knowing that I got through the arduous part of my day and that the rest of the day will slide by easily. I simply love it.

As I am typing this, I feel like I want to go. Maybe I will go… maybe for a walk. I’m not sure.

I am so tired. I am more tired than a Hungry Hiker Hiking himself up the Himalayas :)

Feeling abit wilted however, the weekend is upon me.

Recharging the batteries soon!

What constitutes a good man...?

So what constitutes as a good man? Different definitions for this term depend on men and women. Obviously because men have a different mindset to women, to much frustration sometimes.

To a man, a good man seems to be a man who can make millions of dollars with little effort. A good man must own many properties, party every weekend with his mates, get pissed every night with booze and pizza but still have a mad six-packed body. A good man has a obedient woman in his life, this woman cleans for him, cleans around him and clean him especially after one of his binge drinking sessions. A good man controls the thinks around him, his money, his women (multiple of course) and his assets. He needs no boss, he is his own boss.

To a woman, a good man is a man, not a boy. A man with experience in life, in relationships and in sexual technique. A boy knows none of this. A good man is sensitive, but not overly sensitive. He knows when a woman is sad, is angry and is happy. He will apologise when he is wrong and never make a woman feel like she is wrong, no matter how wrong she is. A good man cares for the future mother of his children, he worries about her safety. He worries about how she will get home so late in the evening and this scene will always end up in taking her home in his car. A good man trusts a woman, she is able to go out with her friends and do whatever she likes as long as she knows who to come home to. A good man knows good sex, he knows how to use his fingers, his hips, his tongue and of course, his dick. He will also have good sexual stamina which he uses to please the woman he cares about… for a couple of hours :P

Sounds good huh? But then why do we, women, keep finding useless guys? Why do these guys cheat, lie, steal and hurt us?

I’ve seen guys that believe that girls cannot and will not be raped while being asked to continuously take the taxi home FROM his house late at night. I want to see this guy take a taxi with a pervert and see what his view of life is AFTER he is raped up the ass.

I’ve seen guys that lie about the hickey on their neck, exclaiming happen to appear from a fun game. He was drunk apparently. Buddy, hickeys are the after effect of having your neck sucked, no fucking fun game will magically cause it.

I’ve seen guys feign the “I can’t get over my ex, I can’t be in a relationship with you, but I can sleep with you” excuse. This type of guy will hold contact with you, every day, every week and every month to ensure you do not get over him. Then use the same line (see above).

I’ve seen the guys that put down a woman, telling them not to pursue life but to stay put and become an obedient wife that going out with friends is taboo, punishable by god or that going out means disloyalty to the relationship. This type of guy is a sad excuse for a man, or person for that matter.

What about the married man with 6 young children who comes to this country from a less fortunate country to work hard for money to feed their young family. The married, supposedly faithful father has found another woman on the side. This woman pays for him, cleans for him and feeds him. He walks into another room to speak to his wife to ensure his wife that he is working hard and thinks about her all day. Despicable.

Oh and what about the guy that goes overseas to visit relatives and sleeps with another girl. This guy returns 

to his girlfriend and tells her that he wants to marry this overseas girl. He talks to her on the phone every night when his girlfriend is living at his house and fucks her while knowing he is going to marry the other girl.

Which category does your good-for-nothing-more-useless-than- the-dirt-between-my-toes boyfriend fall into?

Two words I have for you.

GET OUT!

Actually three words.

GET OUT NOW!

Plus these two words.

WORTHLESS MEN!

So in a coherent sentence:

GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME, YOU DIRTY FILTHY PIECES OF SHIT.

Stay Awesome!

The feeling of not knowing...

I’ve got one of THOSE personalities. You know, those personalities that can’t stick to one thing for too long. Sticking with one thing for a long period of time causes me to get bored of it and makes it become an arduous activity.

This applies to all; activities, ideas, careers, men and even down to the smallest of daily routines. When I was younger, I wanted to be a cop. Well, that didn’t work out and I can excuse this as a feat of childish dreaming.  

Then during high school, I was introduced to the world of Manga which I loved so much. I wanted to be a Manga Artist, even drawing out Manga in all different genres. This career died when I realised, I couldn’t draw that well and that I hated Japanese at Uni. It was at this time that I loved to learn Japanese in High School, I felt I excelled in this subject compared to any other subject. I realised that I would go to Japan and teach English, all the while becoming fluent in the language. This interest was again lost because Japanese @ Uni killed it. Here I got reacquainted with a Primary school Crush, Mr.D, who I thought I’d have a fairytale relationship with. THAT ended so quickly before the relationship even started. Short story – I got bored with him because 1) he was a mummy’s boy 2) he was a nerd 3) we saw each other like TWICE in 4 months and that was with friends. Boring.

Then during my Uni days, I decided to become a Make Up Artist and took a 6month long course that costed my parents an arm and a leg. It was awesome, completed some fashion shows and Make overs. I even found a job as a Beauty consultant at Myers, which was fun for a while until I realised what it actually was. Sales. It was purely – sell this person what they need and therefore force them to buy what they do not need. Lie and cheat to make your target. Do it… or be replaced. This killed THIS career path… I may someday reignite the flame for Make Up Artistry but never as a sales consultant.

HR was my next terminal. I wondered what I could do, which was not much really. I’m not smart enough to be a doctor, not skilled enough to manage accounts and not time efficient enough to be a PA. HR was logical. I can communicate to people. Its been 7 months, and I feel over it already.

So with 23 years of life under my belt, and which all these people around me who know what they want to be, want to do, want to achieve in life… am I the only one out there who doesn’t know?

Am I destined to be a floater?

Holding Your Pee In

As I write, I am sitting at my desk cross-legged, praying to the high heavens that I don’t soil myself. Why don’t you just go to the toilet? Some may ask. Fact is, I’m lazy. I know I’ll have to go soon but maybe if I build it up, I won’t need to go a second time later. 

I found some interesting facts on how to hold your pee in… commonly.

1. Close your urethra inward.

2. Cross your legs when standing. Don't cross your legs when sitting. Doing this can result in pain or possible loss of bladder control.

3. Allow your lower abdomen to tilt slightly forwards, if it does so on its own.

4. Avoid jarring or shaking your body.

5. Stay sitting, if sitting. Remain standing, if standing.

6. Gently shifting your legs and hips, and other subtle movements, interfere with urinating and help encourage your body to "wait".

7. Avoid any thoughts about letting out pee.

8. Stay Focused

9. Resolve the situation so you can pee - on your terms. Which means staying in bed for as long as possible.

And the golden rule...(excuse the pun):

"Know you cannot actually “burst” your bladder. "

How many times has your parents told you not to hold your pee in when you were younger, threatening that your bladder would pop like a balloon. How many times had you slept in fear that you’d die if you didn’t take a piss. Quite funny though, when you think about it.

I just shivered in my seat.

I think it’s time… to go.

What makes me angrier than a fat kid on a diet...

I want to kick my shoes off, climb onto the table, jump around while pulling my hair out and yell profanities. I want to point my finger in the faces of the people whose idiocy annoys me, and cuss the hell out of them. I can’t stand idiots, can’t stand the way they think the world WORKS the way they think it does. THINK PEOPLE, THINK.

What power would I want? Forget invisibility, I want to fucking freeze time. I’d swing my fingers and freeze the damn time, walk over, no… dance over to these fuckers and slap em crazy. Wow… feels great already. Sure, my palms will bleed and swell up… I don’t care.

I hate perverts. That’s why I stopped taking public transport, throughout high school I was subjected to the daily grind of public transport including the variety of perverts that public transport has to offer. It’s almost like a Buy One Get One Free deal.

I don’t get why these men (yes, in my experience 100% of perv were men… you can argue otherwise in your OWN blog) get on the tram/train and just stare. When you talk to someone, you speak to their face, NOT to my chest, or my legs, or under my dress. That is not where my face is. I am sure that’s where YOU’D like your face to be, but that would be over my dead body. These perverts sit next to unsuspecting females, touch them, accidently grazing skin… then what? THERES NOTHING… So pervs can all go die. Thank you.

I hate the daily grind to work. Sitting is the fucking traffic takes up my life, I think people should be paid the moment they turn on their car engines. Isn’t that work? Staying awake at the wheel requires hand/eye coordination, doesn’t it? And especially if you’re in a traffic jam, that even walking is faster, you’d be a goner. So next time, if your employee lives far away, and he/she is slightly late… one piece of advice… GET OVER IT. Your employee is at work, isn’t it? Your employee is producing results, isn’t it? So they’re alittle late… don’t you know that they probably feeling SHIT as to why they are late.

Imagine this, you’re stuck in the middle of a traffic jam. It’s 7:58am (for a 8:00am start) thinking “Oh fuck, I’ve still got another 20minutes from this point. Oh Fuck Fuck Fuck! What can you do? Maybe you can wave your magic fingers and have the cars part wider than the red sea. Then because work is more important than your own life, you drive 120km/h just to get to work in 2 minutes. You get there in 2 minutes because you run anyone and anything under your car, who really cares about these people… they’re not going to work. Then you and your manager and your company can live happily ever after.

Yeh. Fuck that.

Gaining Weight During an Office Job

They say that almost half of all office workers report gaining weight. Add to that, every 1 in 5 office workers, 10 pounds are gained.

I should write up this information, on a nice piece of 190gsm paper in size 35 font and glue to my forehead.

I am a statistic to this piece of information. 

There’s no science in this… it’s really just one person sitting on their fat ass all day typing away at a computer. The only viable exercise would probably be that toilet trip that happens after morning coffee, or multiple coffees, in some people’s cases. I wish that skinny toned fingers were what differentiated between fat and skinny people. Sadly, its actually the size of our waist and diameter of our thighs. I’m exercising my arms right now as I type, twist around to grab a chip, then twist back to resume typing. One day, I intend, to have killer abs with this routine!

Some common barriers:

1. "OK! I'm eating healthy today!"
Follows with "OK, just today I'll eat KFC. But tomorrow, I promise to be healthy."
2. "OK! This salad will be for lunch"
Follows with "I'm hungry already, I think I may need to eat this chocolate to stay awake."
or Follows with "Since everyone in the office is getting [insert fatty food], I might as well."
3. "OK! I am going to the gym before work!"
Follows with "I'm so tired. Maybe tomorrow..."
4. "OK! I am going to the gym/run after work!"
Follows with "I'm so tired. Maybe tomorrow..."
5. "OK! I am catching public transport from now on so I can get exercise before/after work!"
Follows with "I like the privacy of my car, Public Transport people are wierd."

I’m telling you, I’m wearing the same shit as I wore roughly 8 months ago when I first begun working full time. At that time, the skirt was loose and I had to hold up the skirt with a belt as it was high waisted. NOW, it is still held up with a belt but its only because it won’t stay up under my boobs anymore, its just slides down because my ass keeps yanking it down.

I’m not complaining too much about the ass, apparently its widely known that men like bootys compared to boobies. Many strippers have flat boobs but really sexy asses, which is good, I guess… to slide up and down the pole… AND they look hot. AND people pay to watch this. 

Imean, have you ever looked at a picture of a bikini body then commented how flat her ass looks, and how it doesn’t look good? We’re all bitches at heart. I am. You are.