So we fly out REALLY early on Wednesday morning to where the forest meets the sea. 6.25am in fact. For reals. I hope the pilots have have a good night's sleep is all I'm saying.
I Just. Can't. Wait.
I feel like I've never needed a holiday more than this one. Am so sick of work at the moment, thinking about it makes me vomitty. Not good.
Hopefully I'll be fresh as a daisy when I get back in mid November with lots of blogging fodder. But knowing me, I'll probably continue to have a bitch about the mundane, just like I do now.
I'll keep you posted on how the bikini line goes when I get back. You're dying to know, right?
xx P23.
Sunday, 1 November 2009
Friday, 30 October 2009
Pubic-y Blues
Oh lordy. I've just had a pubic disaster of epic proportions.
I've posted about my loathing of getting my bikini line waxed before. I hate it. Beyond the ouch factor (which I can get over), there are a myriad of factors which, if not aligned just so, get me all out of sorts. Things like:
- Do I like this waxer?
- What kind of wax should I get ... will a regular one cut it for the beach? Or should I go 'french'? (No really, that's what my most recent waxer called it).
- Should I wear the disposable undies or just the Bonds ones I'm sporting now?
- Is this waxer wondering why a 30 year old woman like me, who seems normal enough, lets her pubic hair go so much that it's like she's auditioning for a part in a retro porn film?
The little man inside my head has a field day when I'm getting waxed.
Then there are the positions that you subject the poor waxer to. Quite frankly, I don't think they get paid enough to be face to face with a stranger's lawn, let alone a stranger's lawn delivered with a yoga-like pose. It feels a bit degrading, and I'm not even getting a Brazilian for pete's sake! I think a Brazilian would push me over the edge.
Anyway. We're off for our annual big family holiday, just Z, E and I, in a total of four days (but who's counting). I am so so SO looking forward to us hanging out in rainforest and coral reef country for 12 days. There's a lot to do beforehand, but the biggest task, by FAR people, is to tend to my bikini line.
It's gotten so out of control, it's not like the map of Tasmania. It's more like a map of Australia, with maybe the Pacific Islands thrown in. I'm not quite sure how it got to this state. I guess because I'm not too fussed about my lawn. When Z and I make whoopee, it's really the last thing on our minds.
But. I need to be on a beach in four days and even I'm not that chilled out that I'd let it even go near a beach in it's current form. I'm not sure even my boardies would cover it up.
Now that I've scared you, let me scare you more by relaying what just happened in my bathroom about half an hour ago.
After deciding enough's enough, I whipped out a value pack of mega-sized Veet wax strips I had hiding in the vanity. Obviously it's an exciting Friday night here in P23 land ... After I blew the dust off the top of the pack, I realised I'd run out of the little wipe-y things they give you in the packs. The wipes that help get rid off any residual wax that's still left on your skin once you're done. That stuff is a bitch to get off - even the shower won't do it. Big deal, I thought. I'll just make sure I'm neat about things. So I got started.
My left side seemed to go quite well. My technique was to make sure I ripped the strips off smoothly and quickly and I made sure my skin was taut. All's well and good, except the lower part which is always a bit tricky. I'll do that last.
Then I got stuck into my right side. The first strip went OK. The second strip however decides to leave most of the wax stuck on my bikini line, with all the leftover hairs covered in wax. What to do? Hmm. Reapply old wax strip to try and get it off. And yet, more wax decides to get stuck to my bikini area. Awesome. So I decide it's time to apply a new mega wax strip to see if I can fix this fucked up area. And the entire new wax strip rips my skin and makes half of the area bleedy and bruised. More awesomeness.
How do I get this wax off, I begin to wonder. I try applying some body oil to a tissue. And the tissue sticks to my bikini line. Then I try to rub vigorously with a towel. Bits of towel are sticking to my bikini line and it's bleeding more. Obviously that's not an effective strategy. Then I wonder whether I should use nail polish remover because, you know, it gets rid of pretty much most stains (bar coffee from carpet ... we tried that).
So there I am at 9.30pm on a Friday night rubbing my bleedy, red, still kind of hairy pubic area with cotton balls and nail polish remover, and absolutely wincing in pain. And you know what? The wax is still there.
The area looks so sticky and odd now, I'm still kind of embarrassed to see a beautician. I may decide to wear a stinger suit on the beach all holiday, just to hide this damn bikini line.
I'm thinking after this pregnancy, I need to make an appointment to see a laser hair removal person. Quick sticks.
Pubic hair removal is surely simpler than this...
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
I'm pregnant
I hope I stay that way. For a while too.
I'm officially 12 weeks on Friday.
Ahhh. Feels lovely to actually type the words. And feel like it might actually happen.
I feel so happy this pregnancy. And lucky. And so damn excited because E's going to be a big sister. She keeps kissing my belly each morning to say 'good morning' to her new brother or sister.
This week E thinks it's a sister. Last week? It was a brother called George. Oh dear - George! As much as I love MasterChef, Jose is saying no way.
The facts so far are that it's a single jellybean, so no twins. It'll be born (fingers, toes, other body parts crossed) when E turns 3. So I have about 6 months to train her up to be helper-girl. I've also been fairly unsick and not toooo tired - less so than when I was carrying E. I just have weird cravings:
- Cheezels;
- Gummy bears;
- Orange juice (MUST have bits in it);
- Bacon and egg McMuffins (Oh I KNOW! I hang my head in shame about that one. And after my recent post about crap toys? I even bough them in DRIVE-THRU. Fat-lardy-arse land here I come).
Maybe it's an orange fetish?
And I have no (I repeat NO) boy's names up my sleeve. That's for another post methinks. Think classic, not in the top 50 names and certainly NOT faddy or trendy. So no 'Chili', 'Bo' or 'Felix' - sorry.
I'm officially 12 weeks on Friday.
Ahhh. Feels lovely to actually type the words. And feel like it might actually happen.
I feel so happy this pregnancy. And lucky. And so damn excited because E's going to be a big sister. She keeps kissing my belly each morning to say 'good morning' to her new brother or sister.
This week E thinks it's a sister. Last week? It was a brother called George. Oh dear - George! As much as I love MasterChef, Jose is saying no way.
The facts so far are that it's a single jellybean, so no twins. It'll be born (fingers, toes, other body parts crossed) when E turns 3. So I have about 6 months to train her up to be helper-girl. I've also been fairly unsick and not toooo tired - less so than when I was carrying E. I just have weird cravings:
- Cheezels;
- Gummy bears;
- Orange juice (MUST have bits in it);
- Bacon and egg McMuffins (Oh I KNOW! I hang my head in shame about that one. And after my recent post about crap toys? I even bough them in DRIVE-THRU. Fat-lardy-arse land here I come).
Maybe it's an orange fetish?
And I have no (I repeat NO) boy's names up my sleeve. That's for another post methinks. Think classic, not in the top 50 names and certainly NOT faddy or trendy. So no 'Chili', 'Bo' or 'Felix' - sorry.
Saturday, 24 October 2009
10 things I'd like to do before I die...
In no particular order...
1. Own a vintage car. Preferably something like this:
2. Visit New York. And when we stay there, so all that is New York. And totally, totally stay in a loft style apartment, not a sterile hotel.
3. Use my whizz-bang tart tin. The one I bought when I was all MasterChef inspired. Which still hasn't been used.
4. Have a second child. And see E be the wonderful big sister I know she will be.
5. Climb either Machu Pichu or see Angkor Wat. Both would be nice, but one would do. With my man and kids.
6. Get to know my kids as young adults. At least. So we can have some great chats.
7. Travel around Australia in a caravan with my man. And have lots of loving along the way.
8. Get an Australian Ballet subscription. I'm hoping Z may have already thought about this and will surprise me for Christmas or something?
9. Live overseas, even just briefly would be OK with me.
10. Run a marathon. It doesn't have to be a particularly long distance - does, say, 10km count? I'd just love to feel that sense of accomplishment. And have great calves.
1. Own a vintage car. Preferably something like this:
2. Visit New York. And when we stay there, so all that is New York. And totally, totally stay in a loft style apartment, not a sterile hotel.
3. Use my whizz-bang tart tin. The one I bought when I was all MasterChef inspired. Which still hasn't been used.
4. Have a second child. And see E be the wonderful big sister I know she will be.
5. Climb either Machu Pichu or see Angkor Wat. Both would be nice, but one would do. With my man and kids.
6. Get to know my kids as young adults. At least. So we can have some great chats.
7. Travel around Australia in a caravan with my man. And have lots of loving along the way.
8. Get an Australian Ballet subscription. I'm hoping Z may have already thought about this and will surprise me for Christmas or something?
9. Live overseas, even just briefly would be OK with me.
10. Run a marathon. It doesn't have to be a particularly long distance - does, say, 10km count? I'd just love to feel that sense of accomplishment. And have great calves.
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
In other news
Work is busting my chops. We have a team of 2 part timers and one contracter. And that's it. And more work than you can poke a stick at.
We're hiring, we're hiring. But those things take time. I'm in the niche of a niche industry goddamit. Good people with a few years of experience under their belt are like mana from heaven.
I feel slightly sick.
And I keep visiting mamamia and commenting so I don't have to face this mofo of a report due, well, yesterday. Actually, there are 2 reports due.
My poor boss has even more work on than me. I think she's going to be pulling all nighters for the next few weeks.
It's basically like being at Uni all over again. Will be burning the midnight oil tonight methinks.
We're hiring, we're hiring. But those things take time. I'm in the niche of a niche industry goddamit. Good people with a few years of experience under their belt are like mana from heaven.
I feel slightly sick.
And I keep visiting mamamia and commenting so I don't have to face this mofo of a report due, well, yesterday. Actually, there are 2 reports due.
My poor boss has even more work on than me. I think she's going to be pulling all nighters for the next few weeks.
It's basically like being at Uni all over again. Will be burning the midnight oil tonight methinks.
More on the horrific coffee stain
I think I've further fucked up the coffee stain. Pesky kids.
I decided I needed to use more water to try and get out the residue. Wow. Looks uber fucked now. Latte coloured with funny dark patches on top.
That'll teach me to meddle too much. Shit.
I decided I needed to use more water to try and get out the residue. Wow. Looks uber fucked now. Latte coloured with funny dark patches on top.
That'll teach me to meddle too much. Shit.
Monday, 19 October 2009
The coffee stain issue
Sometimes I feel like my life is one constant basket of never-ending laundry. Or a permanent quest for stain removal. It's these parts of my life I'd love to outsource. But I don't because that's not really my style. I'll just take care of it and bitch about it in the process.
Before typing this here post, I was trying, for what feels like the 15th time, to remove a coffee stain out of our lovely cream carpet. The stain is the size of about 3 large dinner plates, if not larger. Truly mega-awesome. My in-laws dropped by yesterday and brought my niece with them. And she decided it was a great idea to grab the very large mug of coffee off the top of the bookshelf and have a look.
That pretty much describes what this niece is like. A bit draining. Super hyper. On a lot of sugar ... or Ribena or whatever's in her bottle. She's a few weeks younger than E and they couldn't be more different. Nor could her mum and I (my sister in law). My niece doesn't seem to have many rules. And I'm not talking really anal rules or anything. Just things like, if we go to someone's house, we don't grab everything on the plate in the middle of the table with our hands. And when we eat meals, we do so in a chair at the dinner table, kids' table etc. At her place, she jumps all over the coffee table, eats everywhere and constantly grabs junk food out of the cupboard. It would drive me bonkers. But my sister in law doesn't seem to mind.
Funnily enough, at a party last weekend, I was outside looking over E and said niece while they climbed a set of stairs. Both were being a bit silly, so I told E - 'You can't go up those stairs there (near the road). It's dangerous. Stay here please'. E listened, begrudgingly. When I told my niece the same thing, she took one look at me and screamed in absolute horror. So much so that everyone rushed over and said 'what did you do?'. Hmm. I told her she couldn't do something? Maybe that describes how she feels about rules.
Anyway, when this niece came over yesterday, you'll forgive me if I wasn't 100% thrilled. I was hoping for a quiet afternoon. And then I felt bad, because E herself was thrilled to bits to see her cousin.
After much joyful screaming and toy throwing (she threw a piece of wood at full force at the front window at one point) she seemed to calm down. And then she spilt the coffee.
So now we have a latte-coloured stain on the carpet in the toy room that looks, quite simply, shitty. I was really quite annoyed. And I was more annoyed because my in-laws' response was 'Oh she's little. I shouldn't have put the cup all the way up there in the first place'. Maybe I'm a tough judge, but I would expect E to know she can't touch something like that., And if she did, she's be in trouble, Primarily from a safety point of view, then a silliness point of view. If E had done that at someone else's house, she certainly would have been a lot more accountable.
I started thinking after my grrrr moment last night how I would have reacted if Aneets' kids had done the same thing. And it's funny because I know I would have been more chilled about it. And I would have had the freedom to tell them it was wrong. I don't feel like I can do that with my draining niece. And I started to wonder why? I guess it's probably because I'm close to Aneets, and therefore, I'm a lot closer to her kids. I love Miss M and Miss V. And I feel cool about telling them what the rules and boundaries are. I just don't feel the same way about my sister in law's daughter.
Anyway, it makes for some interesting play dates, on both sides... Thankfully I'm off coffee at the moment, lessening the chance it'll happen again. Stay tuned for further updates in a few weeks... (drum roll!).
Before typing this here post, I was trying, for what feels like the 15th time, to remove a coffee stain out of our lovely cream carpet. The stain is the size of about 3 large dinner plates, if not larger. Truly mega-awesome. My in-laws dropped by yesterday and brought my niece with them. And she decided it was a great idea to grab the very large mug of coffee off the top of the bookshelf and have a look.
That pretty much describes what this niece is like. A bit draining. Super hyper. On a lot of sugar ... or Ribena or whatever's in her bottle. She's a few weeks younger than E and they couldn't be more different. Nor could her mum and I (my sister in law). My niece doesn't seem to have many rules. And I'm not talking really anal rules or anything. Just things like, if we go to someone's house, we don't grab everything on the plate in the middle of the table with our hands. And when we eat meals, we do so in a chair at the dinner table, kids' table etc. At her place, she jumps all over the coffee table, eats everywhere and constantly grabs junk food out of the cupboard. It would drive me bonkers. But my sister in law doesn't seem to mind.
Funnily enough, at a party last weekend, I was outside looking over E and said niece while they climbed a set of stairs. Both were being a bit silly, so I told E - 'You can't go up those stairs there (near the road). It's dangerous. Stay here please'. E listened, begrudgingly. When I told my niece the same thing, she took one look at me and screamed in absolute horror. So much so that everyone rushed over and said 'what did you do?'. Hmm. I told her she couldn't do something? Maybe that describes how she feels about rules.
Anyway, when this niece came over yesterday, you'll forgive me if I wasn't 100% thrilled. I was hoping for a quiet afternoon. And then I felt bad, because E herself was thrilled to bits to see her cousin.
After much joyful screaming and toy throwing (she threw a piece of wood at full force at the front window at one point) she seemed to calm down. And then she spilt the coffee.
So now we have a latte-coloured stain on the carpet in the toy room that looks, quite simply, shitty. I was really quite annoyed. And I was more annoyed because my in-laws' response was 'Oh she's little. I shouldn't have put the cup all the way up there in the first place'. Maybe I'm a tough judge, but I would expect E to know she can't touch something like that., And if she did, she's be in trouble, Primarily from a safety point of view, then a silliness point of view. If E had done that at someone else's house, she certainly would have been a lot more accountable.
I started thinking after my grrrr moment last night how I would have reacted if Aneets' kids had done the same thing. And it's funny because I know I would have been more chilled about it. And I would have had the freedom to tell them it was wrong. I don't feel like I can do that with my draining niece. And I started to wonder why? I guess it's probably because I'm close to Aneets, and therefore, I'm a lot closer to her kids. I love Miss M and Miss V. And I feel cool about telling them what the rules and boundaries are. I just don't feel the same way about my sister in law's daughter.
Anyway, it makes for some interesting play dates, on both sides... Thankfully I'm off coffee at the moment, lessening the chance it'll happen again. Stay tuned for further updates in a few weeks... (drum roll!).
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