August 18, 2011
I think I’ve reached a small milestone with my new job, I finally know enough that getting there in the morning does not invoke a panic attack and I was sent home sick with the flu, in fact most of the team was we were all incubating germs like a B grade sci-fi movie…..and upon my return to work today I found that despite being totally behind and under the pump I actually missed the place and some of the people. So I am happy for now….talk to me after my attempt at website maintenance next week and I may be back to asthma attack in a brown paper bag territory.
Before you click the little “x” at the corner of the screen and think ? what is going on with Enid, I didn’t subscribe to this blog for poorly executed tales of joy and fancy! I came for the hard stuff, humiliation and irreverent use of the word Cunt. So my friends I will offer you this piece of humiliation to keep you all feeling good about yourselves…In an attempt to look cute and professional like the other women in my office I purchased a few pairs of pointy high heel shoes and after a few strides at the store decided they were walkable. The problem is a few strides does not compare to the mammoth walk along what looks like a communist catwalk (you know what I mean..that awful Government building carpet) to get to the bloody printer…and I have to print stuff off all the time. So my pointy shoes soon turn into Enid’s big fat toes present: Escape from Black Plastic Island. When I look down my toes look like vienna sausages trying desperately to escape from the clutches of my peep toe shoe. This results in three types of walks, first is the Pirate limp, then the I’ve got a rod up my ass waddle and finally the stop-start shuffle were I naively put all my hopes on stopping mid stride and repositioning my foot. I swear I must look like a very “special” person…It’s humiliating.
I keep thinking that the more I get used to it the more I will bend my chubby destiny into submission but it’s not doing wonders for my self-esteem. In fact each of the walks reminds me of the time I was watching video hits back in the day and the music video for “21 Questions by 50 cent” came on and just as I was about to barrel a piece of sponge cake into my mouth 50 or “fiddy” rapped the line “I love you like a fat kid loves cake” That’s right…the crumbs dribbled into my cleavage along with my chubby tears that morning because I got served by fucking coinage… damn you 50 cent! But the difference between that sponge eating girl and this hobbling woman is I will not give up, tomorrow I will wear the same damn shoes until my feet are pointed and full of bunions as they should be! After all pain is beauty, not cake Enid.
Ta Ta for now.
August 6, 2011
Ok Peeps it’s time once again to think about all those little and big things out there in the world that make you consider swallowing a glass of Ajax while lying on a dirty bathroom floor with nothing to console you but a puddle of your own 2 dollar masscara you bought from the bargain bin of your local chemist streaked tears. Today I want to congratulate Stupid Bumper/Car stickers for making me think “what a world” now I myself am a bumper sticker enthusiast but mine are all lame, nerdy and inoffensive to anyone who even knows what they mean. I’m more of a “no jobs on a green planet or my cat goes to university” criminal compared to people who use their car to make comments such as “frangipani” “Barely Legal” “Magic Happens” “Playgirl” “fuck off we’re full” and so on and so forth. These types of stickers really grate my cheese…almost as much as Mark’s old room-mate with the multicoloured “sunsilk” car. Anyway I digress, as you can probably tell this is topic close to my cynical heart, however it’s time to name our What A World bumper sticker winner …………..
“Up the bum no babies”
Yes friends, I have actually witnessed with my very own eyes, and my husband was a witness, a ute (of course) with a bumper sticker with those exact words. Actually I think it may have actually said “babys” but I’m going to give it the benefit of the doubt. Seriously? Seriously?
Someone pass me the Ajax pronto..
August 3, 2011
Today as I was being trained to update websites at my new job and panicking at the thought of possibly having to reveal that while I am a nerd..I’m not that kind of nerd, you know the smart kind. So in the face of failure I let my freak flag fly. In a fit of anxiety while a girl dressed in a fancy suit explained how to import content I picked at my fingers while taking notes (an awful habit I’ve had since I was old enough to grow stubby finger nails) so as she watched me frantically take notes she must have seen little tiny smears of blood from the side of my fingernail drip onto the page, in fact I swear I noticed her look down at it multiple times as she explained things to me. Rather than acknowledge it and get a tissue or a band-aid I just kept writing while it looked as though my freaking finger was having its first period all over my chicken scrawl handwriting. Argh….so humiliated, now until I learn this stuff off by heart I am going to have a red reminder of my inability to function normally in the world.
July 13, 2011
Welcome to the first edition of What a world.. what I hope to become a regular post about all the wonderfully and awfully strange things that make me think “what a world” I encourage the few people who read this to take a moment and comment on their very own what a world thoughts, moments and observations on each edition.
Lets start off with a particularly shameful one for me… and even more so for my husband. What a world am I living in when an intoxicated appreciation of the music of Katy Perry bleeds over into non-intoxicated times. That’s right, the singer who I once found absolutely abhorrent, mostly because of her giant boob/eyes combination which I find evil, her stupid jesus wrist tattoo and my strict rule not to encourage people who photograph themselves in denim shorts. All this changed during a drunken hen’s night on a bus dance-a-thon courtesy of my pal Stacey. Suddenly as I sculled plastic cups full of bright coloured sparkling wine and attempted to pole dance against the bus bell railing, California Girls by Katy Perry sounded like the greatest song ever written.
I bought the cd during a late night spending spree at a texas target super-store while on holiday because it was cheap and I was tired of listening to Andy’s emo shit or Gomez in the rental car. Now it turns out that I listen to the cd frequently in the car and sing along loudly. I thought that things you consider a good idea while drunk such as wearing leopard prints, walking home, thinking you’re a good dancer and having self-loathing infused sexual relations with ex’s, friends or iphone app randoms are meant to disappear in a vail of shame once sober. I guess I was wrong…I fear next time it will be something more damming…. What a World
July 12, 2011
So it’s likely that I won’t start my new job until the end of July/ early August and as much as it is paining my bank balance at least I can use the time to brush up on my lit review and report writing skills..you know the ones I pretended to be so proficient at during my interview…little does she know I ain’t done shit like that since my uni days which were AHHHHHH 10 fracken years AGO. Still with a few weeks up my sleeve I thought I had time to reinvent myself into project worker Enid but alas I am going to be put to the test a little sooner than expected as I found a surprise email in my inbox today from my new Manager suggesting I come in to meet the team and go out for a coffee with so we can discuss project ideas and research etc. All good things for a normal person but in Enid’s mind it’s one big clusterfuck. I think this woman has got the wrong idea about me…
I think the reason for this is my interview happened just before my trip to America so I kind of didn’t give a shit. Once I finished the written test there were only three rather simple questions to answer and becauase I have already worked for this area of the health department as a counsellor I had a lot of back ground knoweldge… anyway to cut things short it was a Fluke I don’t really care interview and in my 30 minutes of misplaced confidence I came across as an ideas woman… I ain’t no ideas woman, I’m the person who comes up with a response to a question on the bus ride home, or at least that’s how it worked at Uni, to ensure I got the 10% participation mark during tutorials I would simply repeat a slight variation of something someone else had said.. or repeat what the tutor had said previously or when faced with an extreme situation drop out of the class entirely and enroll in the same unit as an online student and use the exact same methods as I just mentioned but with the soothing buffer of a computer screen, username and 4am postings while intoxicated from the sweet nourishment of a can of UDL and a bowl of easy mac. I am all about the gloss about not really about the content and follow through… I spent more time huddled in the Murdoch computer lab with Mark thinking of brilliant titles for our essays rather than focusing on quality of context, that was an afterthought.
Plus going for coffee with people in Mount Lawley always brings up my issues, like sitting at those tiny tables, encrouching on other peoples space, that fact that I don’t know anything about coffee and all those fandangle new ones like Latte’s….what is a latte? I don’t know, and don’t even get me started on ordering tea for two or tea for one, high tea. I grew up in a home where my mum added water to milk cause she said it was too strong but I swear it was just to stretch its use out. Oh and not to mention it is the scene of my one brief moment of conscious perfection…I sat in a coffee shop, Il Sotto if I remember correctly cautiously boasting with my friend about the fact that we both had partners and things were coming up roses only to find ourselves simultaneously dumped less than two weeks later, we had to flee the city and burn break up emails by the creek. You see this kind of rambling? this is also another thing I’m scared of, if I get to comfortable in a situation I can go from 0 to highly inapproriate in about a second. What if I start telling her stories like this? Arghhhhhh.
July 8, 2011
STOP THE PRESSES today I got my eyes tested and purchased some new glasses. I don’t even know if they look good because every time the tiny blonde following me around suggested I try a pair on I couldn’t handle having to stare at myself in those awfully shaped optical mirrors so I just kinda went along with anything she said looked good. I also have to wear them more often so I am now a full on nerd. The whole eye testing process is so much more formal than I remember it to be, I was slightly off my game because as I purchased some birthday cards for my in-laws at the garden city newsagency I noticed that Taylor Fucking Swift (who incidentally is on my list) has her own greeting card range? Now is this a common thing? have I been in such a depression haze lately that I was unaware of the trend toward celebrity brand greeting cards. You would think these cards would feature Taylor in some way but instead from what I allowed myself to glance upon briefly for fear my eyes might be engulfed by the pits of hell the cards do not feature miss Taylor but instead pictures of virginesque girls, lots of curls and glitter guitars. I nearly bought one for my sister-in-law just so I could examine the card more intensely at home ala the Da Vinci Code, hoping I might be able to connect this development to the apocalypse triangle consisting of Justin Bieber’s cosmetic range and the rise and rise of Will Smith’s spawn.
Anyway I was obviously rattled but I tried to engage politely and normally with the specsavers employees that is until they asked me in the little interview room if I had private health insurance. Of course I don’t because I just don’t have the money at the moment but every time someone asks me that question and I reply no I always feel self-conscious like a criminal at a job interview or something. I also kept moving during the eye test you know the one where they puff shots of air into your eyes… so humiliating. When I finally got to see that actual optometrist I kept thinking why didn’t I chose a career like optometrist? That could have been me sitting in a black pencil skirt and fuchsia blouse listening to my ipod and telling people “better or worse” on repeat. It seems that unlike my jaw my eyes are in good health and I still have the same issue as before, one of my eyes doesn’t focus properly so whenever my eyes are open they are having to strain to focus… thus resulting in my lovingly referred to “drunk lazy eye” in photos while intoxicated, I guess when I’ve had a few my good eye decides to have a holiday.
So my glasses expedition in the end was a success, now I just have to deal with tonight’s impending crisis. A friend has just asked me to download some scrabble phone application so we can play against each other… soon her illusion that I am actually smart will be shattered. Damn you Android, first I lose my husband to Angry Birds and now my false feeling of superiority over others.
Bye for now
July 7, 2011
Ok people listen up..it’s confession time. I have a serious yet hilarious problem. I keep telling people and they either don’t believe me or think I’m making some kind of sly reference to a certain sex act. OK- so I can’t open my mouth wide anymore. Seriously, I keep trying but it’s like my jaw has locked at a certain point and just won’t let me open any further…at first I thought it was amusing but then when I had to eat a cup cake with a knife and fork things got real. I’ve also had food just drop out of my mouth since this started making me feel like perhaps this is my body’s final stand against my desire for glorious food leaving me in a cruel world where burgers are vitamised and fed to me through a straw in my tiny mouth hole.
So of course I started googling the symptoms, using words like “lock jaw” “can’t open my mouth but no pain” I felt as ridiculous as when I diagnosed myself with restless leg syndrome. using Wikipedia. Now my old friend wiki tells me I might have TMJ
to add to my list of body defects somewhere between a big toe with no nail and not having any of my vestigial organs..I’m running on essentials only PEOPLE. It seems that Mark’s wish for me to be the first to die in our friendship will come true but it won’t be the push of a gentle panther that gets me dear friend (as per your year 2000 request) it’s going to be the slow decay of my body toe by toe, jaw ligament by ligament.
I shouldn’t really be making light of this, I should be crying because this kind of Jaw dysfunction reeks of me having to turn tricks at Samson park to pay for some shmuck dentist to fix. I’ve skated by in the last 8 years or so giving NO MONEY to those white clothed thieves, my balcatta harvested teeth have held up, who would have thought it would be my fucking jaw that would betray me… Well it looks like I will just have to keep my mouth closed for a while because I need to buy new glasses on Friday which should be fun, I can picture it now, some size 8 slightly trampy librarian type (this is how I imagine optical employees to appear) trying to up sell me a pair of 500 dollar Burberry frames, grating away at my optically challenged self-esteem. Arghh, oh well at least I might get a blog post out of it, I’ve already used my ace jaw material for the week.