Check out what I did as part of work! Yeah! That’s my hand!
(Mind the dodgy camera work)
A few years ago my friend from Melbers recommended I watch this Korean film called Il Mare. He was heavily into Asian flicks (Jap flicks to be precise) and I thought that this Il Mare would just be chocobloc with hot Asian chicks with cheesy dialogue and bad dubbing and other terribly untrue cliches I think of when it comes to Asian flicks.
One night whilst channel surfing, I came across Il Mare on SBS (I heart SBS) and thought I’d take my friends advice and watch it. Afterall, he had good taste in music and assumed it would transfer to his movie taste.
Oh. My. God. 90 minutes later and I am balling my eyes out. My eyes were red. Ny nose was runny. I was a mess. I tell people this story and they have a hard time believing I would even take the time to watch a romantic Asian movie. I have a hard time believing it myself.
I will never ever go out with an Asian man - reason being, I think it’s completely incestuous. So watching a romantic Asian flick and seeing Asians get it on, well, all I can think of is somewhere down the line, there’s going to be a twist in the movie when they realise that their long lost cousins and their offspring are going to be born without big toes due to inter breeding and hell, that is wrong.
But what is even more wrong is Hollywood remaking fantastic original movies and doing an embarassing effort of marketing the film to mainstream. Damn it! It makes me so mad! The Lake House (staring those bomb on bus joy riders Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves) is released tomorrow and is the Hollywood remake of Il Mare. I’ve been seeing the theatre trailors on TV and seriously, from watching the trailors, you’ve got to be pretty hardcore Bullock and Reeves fans to even have an inkling to want to see it. Completely unappetising.
Of course I am going to go see it… just for another reason to bag out that Sandra Bullock. How could I resist?
I went to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s on Friday night. They must be one of my favourite bands and I have the biggest girl crush on Karen O. Man, if I had the lungs of that girl, I would quit advertising and pursue the rockstardom life too.
I went to the gig with this guy I’ve been seeing, but not having had much of a history I didn’t know what type of gig-goer he was - a stander or a sitter or a moshpitter. Usually I would find out this sort of info well before committing to a gig date, but he is a complete gentleman so I didn’t have too much concern about him honouring my need to head to the above ground levels to find a seat. I barely reach 5′3 so upon reaching gigs, I always make a mad dash to the second level to get a good standing and viewing point.
On the drive there, he mentioned he was wasn’t a mosh pitter because he liked to enjoy and remember the whole gig. Despite the fact that I’m short and in the mosh all I can see are heads, we agreed that it always felt like some hazy experience you have trouble remembering after. I was kinda relieved he felt the same way… but we bumped into some of his friends when we got there and they kinda led us to the mosh. We were both in conversation with his friends, and not wanting to be rude and cut off chit chat, the next thing I know, I’m in the mosh and I can’t see a thing! I mean, bloody hell!! If I knew we were going to be in the midst of the action, I wouldn’t have worn a bubble dress and would’ve replaced my flat ballet slippers with 3 inch heels and prepared a little better for the occasion! Shit! I was fuming. Sure it was a chance to get a little cosy with my date, but it was not worth it. He’s 6′ so it was all ok for him.
Prior to the YYY coming on stage, he offered to pick me up so I could see the stage, call me a bitch, but I was really pissed off that he wasn’t really willing to move upstairs for me and snubbed his offer. Not that I really asked him to go upstairs, but he crouched down to my level and laughed when he realised all I could see were the back of heads and t-shirts. Surely he could figure out that the mosh was the last place I wanted to be.
When the YYY started, a random guy in front of me realised he was blocking my view, and the next thing I know, he’s pushing me in front of him. Then he taps the guy in front of me on the shoulder and this second random guy is letting me in front of him. (It’s like that beer ad). This guy is pushing me in front of another guy, and within seconds, I’ve ditched my date and leapfrogged closer to the stage! I’m finally standing in front of these mean looking tattooed and pierced guys (who look like they would rather head bang to Metallica then listen to the YYY) and I’m thinking to myself “Don’t step on their toes… Don’t step on their toes”. But after getting on my tippy toes a few times to catch a glimpse of Karen O, one of the tattooed skinheads grabs my waist and lifts me up, but I was so shocked (and I’m really sensitive) that I giggle and kick and he drops me! We both have a laugh and I say thanks, but I’d rather stay on the floor and dance.
Anyway, despite the lack of view, I had an awesome time. They played my favourite lurve songs and ended with my FAVOURITE Tick. Oh boy. It was hot.
That Karen O is one crazy kid.
Man, what a crazy week. Work was insane. I had 40+ international clients from overseas in town that I had to look after. I worked 80 hours this week. It was pretty demanding and my manager really got on my nerves. There were many inappropriate outbreaks of shouting (from my end), but luckily my manager is pretty cool if not a little daft sometimes. I cried every day in the first few days, but ended up adopting the attitude “who bloody cares”. Everyday I thought about quitting. Everyday I was stressed out at the thought that there was no way that after this week, I could/would want to continue working at my current place. At nights I would wine and dine the clients at the Burswood and the Old Swan Brewery and other fantastic places, but the time in between then was hell.
It was heaven sent when I was out with clients on Wednesday and received a call from the managing director of one of my favourite advertising agencies asking what my plans were. I told him I was quitting my job. Next thing I know, he’s offering me a job and asking me to come in ASAP. I don’t remember being so happy! It couldn’t have come at better timing.
I was at my favourite agency a couple weeks ago, but it was only a temp position and got quite depressed for awhile when there were no permanant positions and my contract ended. On my last day I seriously started thinking that a move to London or back to NY in October was definitely on the cards, but to be honest, I am happy to stay in Perth to see what happens with this agency.
On that Wednesday night I got the job offer and finished work with clients, it’s a little wierd, but I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather celebrate with than London. But he was busy on a shoot, so I retreated back to my apartment alone. I poured myself a glass of white, opened a packet of Margaret River white chocolate pastilles, put on the sweet jazz sounds of Miles Davis, turned off all the lights, and hopped in a steaming bubbling bath. It was the sweetest thing ever! Reflecting on the good times at work and realising that with my new job, I would have to move out of the apartment (since it is a work perk).
I stayed at work till the end of the week out of respect to my manager and clients, but it was a little easier to handle knowing I had plans and could still fund any future travel plans and my obsession with pencil skirts.
One of my clients is causing me grief. We had a run-in this morning and I had to actually stop and breath and restrain myself from yanking her hair and punching her lights out. She is such a little bitchy thing. I am quite confident I could’ve taken her down within seconds. I am little, but she is even smaller. Yeah… I could do it without any pain inflicted on myself…
No, but seriously I was thinking, what pranks could I pull on her that could cause some sort of gratification for myself?
I don’t want any injuries - I’m pretty sure that could be illegal.
But any humiliating pranks I could pull to give her a taste of her own medicine and cause her some grief? Suggestions? Anyone? Any suggestions to make her cry? I have no problem with making people cry - especially if they deserve it. I made ModelBoy cry and laughed as he ran crying to the toilets.
I know, people are going to say “Be the better person and let it go”. HA! That is a poor excuse to let someone trample all over you.
Seriously, let me know of any evil ideas ASAP. She leaves the country on Saturday.
Hrmmm I know this could effect the Karma Gods.
But I swear I will do something really unselfish and nice for the next year.
I have moved into my new apartment in the city! I am loving it! It’s right in the CBD on Hay Street, two bedroom, 2 bathroom, big kitchen and lounge and balcony and views of our pool and the quaint street on the corner, and the Burswood night lights.
Last night I had the crew come over to help me settle in. Adam and I cooked our first roast beef and it turned out a treat! I was so proud of myself! It took a LOT longer than expected to cook (3 hours!!), mainly due to paranoia because I couldn’t think of anything more awkward then serving a bloody roast to my friends. The dinner table was chocabloc with yummy food - corn cobs, peas, broccolli, garlic bread, mashed potato, roasted sweet potato and pumpkin, red wine and mushroom sauce. Mmmmm!!!
We chilled out and chatted and lounged around playing games. We could hear sirens and laughter and commotion all around us in surrounding apartments and on the city street. Man… it reminded me of living in Manhattan. Of course there were a lot more crazy characters and beautiful people strutting their stuff and walking their dogs and a lot more noise, but man… it was nice.
Work has been a little stressful. I had a bit of a cry at work when things didn’t turn out… but more on that later.
Will take pictures of my new place soon!
I had a three point criteria on how I wanted to celebrate my birthday this year. That is,
1. No fuss…
2. No expensive blow outs…
3. No embarrassing stories to tell the morning after
(Unlike my last very drunken New York party at Luxe Bar last year).
Holy cow… when I think about all the money that was spent last year on the big 2-1 and how I barely remember the night, I wish I had taken a trip back to NY instead of trying to recreate NY in the red room at Luxe. If all my friends have a damaged liver, it’s safe to say that my party last year was the culprit considering the copious amounts of free cocktails that were pouring out of the bar that night…
This year was a different story. Low key. Sweet gestures. And time spent with my loved ones.
I had to work all day at the agency - but it was so rewarding. A location I found and have been researching is going to be used in this huge big budget shoot. Plus I went to a meeting that day and tried to pitch to them my friend or this fella for a bit of work, but they didn’t fit the measurements we needed. It was satisfying enough to just have a say in the campaign. After I walked out of the 3 hour meeting, one of the creatives I’ve been getting to know fairly well says to me “Bet you wish you didn’t go to that meeting huh?” and he couldn’t have been further from the truth. I felt rejuvenated and happy and I knew I picked the right career path.
This creative I’ve been getting to know is really something! I don’t know what it is about him… I am slightly attracted to him, but have no interest in pursuing anything. My desk is behind his so we will chatter away when the office is quiet and I always feel bad because London sits next to him and he’s never included in the conversation. I don’t want London to think I’m disowning him and have a new creative man in my life.
London took me out to Wagamama’s for my birthday. It was great to get away from the office and finally give him the low-down of the agency, and get some goss from him. I had been biting my tongue all week, but I had to spill the beans to London and said to him,
“Listen, I hope this doesn’t affect our new found friendship, but I have to say… watching you work and create pieces of art REALLY turns me on!!! You sit right in front of me and every single fucking day, it does my head in!!!”
I could’ve said a lot more like how every time I watched him work, all I could think about was how I could get him alone for 5 minutes, but thought I had said enough. London nearly choked on his soup and found it highly amusing. He said it was the first time he’s heard that before!
After work I hung out with my new creative friend, and then went to Adam’s. When I walked into his house he was busy burning chocolate fudge chip cookies. He cooked me dinner and after dinner wrapped up the cookies and said it was my birthday present. Hahaha! It was awful sweet of him! They were rock hard, but I am definitely a believer of the saying “It’s the thought that counts!” To be honest, I was wondering how he was going to get around my birthday present this year. I know a few weeks ago he started having anxiety attacks about what he was going to get me.
There are a few things that always seem to throw people off about me. I wear a Dolce & Gabbana watch and have expensive taste in clothing. I don’t mean to. I like my D&G watch because I like squares, and with clothes, I love unique clothes and I find it hard to find clothes that fit really well. When I find clothes under $50 I think it’s my lucky day, otherwise it usually exceeds this.
So I know Adam and the rest of my boy friends usually get a little uptight about purchasing gifts and think I expect something expensive, but DAMN IT! Simply not true! I try and drop hints through out the year that all I really want for my birthday each year are flowers or a home made card. Could I make it any easier!?
On Friday night I had a small dinner with ten of my closest friends at Queens. I wanted heaps more people to come, but my closest friends are from such diverse groups (uni, school, jobs, random run-ins) that I’m always paranoid people won’t get along and I’ll have to baby sit. But it turned out well and there were love crushes (that weren’t mutual) and lots of banter and laughter. After Queens, we ended up at Moon till 3am (how typical!!!) playing Scrabble and eating chocolate pizza…. When we started falling asleep, we decided to make up words and I won on 222 points with my little beauty “QVD”.
“Quit Volvo Driving”
Fine… it’s an abbreviation, but I was bound to win anyway.
I was the Birthday girl after all!
