the backpack

when backpacking was over i was actually rather glad to be getting back to civilisation, to routine and most importantly to an english speaking country. mind you my last stop was paris so that clearly explains the english thing.
i was glad to not have to be moving every third day and not have to live out of my 15kg backpack that was clearly doing funny things to my knees. my back was well and truly broken by this stage and the pain was starting to feel normal.
but now that i have nothing better to do with my time than think back on "the good ol' days" which were about 3 months ago i want it all back. i hear of others heading out to travel and i have itchy feet yet again. i miss being the ignorant english speaking tourist who forgot to do their homework and has no idea how to say thank you in whatever be the language. i miss being able to get away with taking photos of random buildings that the locals recognise as the rubbish dump. i miss having no idea what you've just ordered - and that sense of achievement you feel when your food actually turns out to be pretty decent. mind you with my indecisiveness i still dont know what im ordering. i miss having to wash my clothes in the sink. i miss the conversations of: ooh look at that. what is it. i dunno but its cool. yeah it is. cool - JETSTAR!!

some would say that im still travelling - which is probably quite true.
but the difference of doing it out of a backpack - dude.. i miss the backpain.

she's back!

im back to being a tourist. a traveller. a bum.
and oh-so-very poor.

wouldnt have it any other way.

excited

i thought this was a rather noteworthy moment and needed to make a point of it.
27mins left until freedom - and freedom not just for the weekend.
this is great!
a moment of pure stupidity perhaps awaits me and its rather refreshing!
i feel alive damn you! ALIVE!!

been there. done that.

its funny how when we're about to do something stupid we find all sorts of excuses to justify our behaviour.

i think my most popular has to be:
well at least id be able to say that ive done that / tried that / seen that.

well that and:
if i dont, then ill slit my wrists.

so very sad

im sitting here wondering how this office could be so full.
how can people be sitting at their desks doing whatever it is we're meant to be doing and not be piss bolting as far away as possible from this shit hole pathetic excuse for a job.
and to think for some its even a career.
the money cant possibly justify such a sad existence.

perhaps people see what i would rather be doing and consider that a sad existence.
well as they say, to each his own right?

that makes you think.
i wonder what each of the folks here dreamt of becoming when they were but a twat in diapers.
i wonder if any of them are satisfied.
i wonder how many of them dreamt of doing big things.
maybe some of them still are.

how did my life become so sad.

so sad

5mins left

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

that'll do for today ;p

abc. 123.

just came out of training.

we found out how to convert metres to kilometres.
"its as simple as abc. 123. you move the decimal place 3 spots forward. abc. 123."

i think this job may be too difficult for me.

in a moment of pure genius i have decided to start blogging about my europe travels.
as of tomorrow.

i am dying a slow and painful death.

in the news

a 10 year old mexican boy was found by his mother with his hand glued to his bed because he didnt want to return to school after the christmas holidays.
he used industrial-strength glue and then sat there watching television.
the mum tried to free him but eventually had to call the police and paramedics for help.
they used a spray to dissolve the glue.
he sat there watching more television.

genius!!

are you dave gorman?

i read a book not too long ago titled "are you dave gorman?"

i was looking for some inspiration to go exploring so i decided to pick up a one of those travel story-book-things.
so amongst all the crap about romance in italy, discovering yourself in france, cows in india... i found this one about two english blokes - dave gorman and danny wallace - who, on one very stupid night, of too much tequila, make a bet which sparks their little expedition to find "heaps" of dave gormans (dave is convinced there are heaps of other blokes named dave gorman out there whereas danny thinks he's talking shit - the twat that he is). along the way they decide that "heaps" would be the number in a deck of cards + the jokers (it happened to be in danny's hand at the time of conversation. talk about inspiration!!)
for those who have no idea how many that actually is, its 54.
its takes them 6mths, all over the UK, to parts of europe and the states, lots and lots of money, one too many fights AND 5 people (2 of which are girls) who decide (by choice!!) that they would legally change their names to dave gorman.
up until the date of publication they met 104 dave gormans.
they were yet to meet a danny wallace.

a hilariously stupid book about two complete knob heads.
couldnt possibly have asked for a better source of inspiration.

stars in the sky

bugger.

while others are depriving themselves of blogs and facebook i was determined to set a record of how many days i could blog everyday. unfortunately im a good half hour too late to keep that up.

well while im here i figure 6 days cant possibly be too hard to top so i might as well start again. after all record needs to be set right?

so in an attempt to pretty up the blog id like to introduce you to the little girl in search of the stars in the sky. and leroy, the yuggles, the fairies and fourfeet who all try to help. the fairies like to dance. well, they try at least. cant quite bust out with the moves just yet.

this was from a while back and was actually quite a lot of fun. i miss sore-eyes-cofa.

3:52pm

damn.

what do you do when you've just finished going through the spreadsheet your manager gave you, checking that the licenses you cancelled have indeed been cancelled but you still have 1 hour and 8mins left.

when you have your manager's manager sitting next to you it sucks donkeys balls to have nothing to do. which means for the entire length of the day you are constantly required to pretend you are in fact working on the life changing, world impacting business that you have become a part of.

thats when the genius in you kicks and so you go back up through the spreadsheet and re-check. now thats dedication for ya!
i told you it was life changing, world impacting.
so considering there are 66 to check and each takes at least 30seconds to load..
you do the math.

shit - i just did it for you and it only works out to be 33mins.
that calls for a pee break.

british romantic comedies

i have friends who would say that all romantic comedies are the greatest thing to have ever hit the big screen (even more so if they have freddy prince jnr in them) but i on the other hand would prefer to think that my taste in films is a little classier. unfortunatly, thats all lies and i too am a sucker for a good ol' romcom.
shamefully my dvd collection is proably about 98% trashbag chick flick but while that is the case i like to think that i stick with the better few.

a lot of which i have come to realise are british. and strangely enough all have hugh grant in them.
i quote the Great Britain Lonely Planet here but with reference to cinema culture hugh grant has played a significant role.

"four wedding and a funeral..introduced hugh grant as a likable and self-depricating Englishman... Notting Hill.. with hugh grant as a likable and self-depricating Englishman..Sense and Sensibility..hugh grant as (you guessed it) a likable and self-depricating Englishman.. About a Boy.. starring the ever-popular hugh grant as (who'd have thought) a likable and self-depricating Englishman... (AND) Love Actually, in which hugh grant plays a likable and self-depricating prime minister."

now how can anyone refuse that.

for another thing, they inspire you to wear granny knickers and shag your boss. wear GREY knickers and stand infront of a blue door hoping paparazzi will happy snap you.
and they make you wanna walk into a restaurant and scream COWABUNGA!
did you know that cowabunga is in wikipedia.

clearly my time in London is very productive right now.

the chicken man called

wooooot! :)

i miss all things bogan.
very sad when someone suggested i may have picked up on the good ol' english accent.
need to bust out with a few more AYEEEE's!

aye?

happy morning

surprise surprise.

i was in a good mood this morning.
i even had a bounce in my step.
i think it had something to do with seeing speech bubbles on top of everyones head while i was walking to work.

ooh speaking of the walk to work.
i know where bridget jones lives!
i should go knock on her door one day.
maybe she can tell me where she bought her granny knickers so that i can get a pair and shag the boss as well.
but then i need to get a job working for hugh grant.
bugger.

happy new year

so we start another year.


charlie tells me its going to be a good one.
charlie is usually wrong.

but for now lets waste gazillions on 10mins of pretty little explosions.

jack

Hyemz: Who's jack?

Mon: Jack is this dude that used to go to Sydney Boys High… If I’m correct then he plays volleyball on Sunday at Baulko too. But he plays in the A-grade division.


people should constantly be reminded of things this great.
never fails to make me a happier person - love it!!