Damn yuckiness

I feel siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick.

I've been feeling a cold coming on for ages now, but my super-charged immune system (thanks to three smelly, dirty brothers) has been fighting it off well. Well, mostly. When I got tired I could feel the lurgy creeping up on me, but with a little sleep it seemed to be kept at bay.

But today, I feel dreadful. Nauseous, no appetite (though I know I need to eat), headachey, super-sensitive smelling powers in spite of my stuffy nose, and alternately boiling hot and freezing cold.

Did I mention that The Trouser has had a could finally hit him? And even though we haven't been kissing (well, only pecks, and without any mucous membranes touching) I think his illness, plus the charming state of affairs at work, are finally pushing me over the edge.

I must remember to email myself all my favourites, so I can read blogs from home if I'm sick.

I had a dream

I had 2, actually.

The first one involved living with my parents again (not good), and my current boss staying with us (even worse). There were wedding preparations, The Trouser was strangely absent, and the nightmarish behaviour from the boss reached new highs (or is that lows??).

This dream made lots of my colleagues laugh very loudly.

Then last night I dreamed I'd popped into Dymocks during work because there was a sale. I wasn't wearing any shoes, that's how quick I expected to be. (Hello? Subconscious? I **always**wear shoes.) I stayed ages, got treated like a VIP by a slightly creepy guy who dream-me recognised as someone from Neighbours (but he isn't in reality), bought 2 sock knitting kits (Um, subconscious? I don't do sock knitting. Ever. It's scary, remember?), and found almost no good knitting books. Oh, and I was going to get yelled at because I was gone for ages and was late for our team meeting. Which wasn't happening when I finally got to the office, it had obviously been rescheduled (nothing new there).

I need to stop dreaming about work. It's stressing me out enough in my wakened state!

On a more positive note, when I woke to the distinctive thump of bass from house music just before 4am, I got up, put on my bathrobe, and investigated. Our floor? Nope. Upstairs? Nope. Downstairs? Bingo - a party.

And what did I do? I called the building manager and got the sucker closed down. Sorry, but a Sunday-night party is no fun for those of us who have to work!

Guilty pleasures

Everyone has their guilty pleasures, right?

Mine include watching American soap-style dramas (Gilmore Girls, One Tree Hill, and the ilk), plus Aussie and NZ versions of the same (Neighbours, Home and Away, Shortland Street). I also like happy music, even when it's cheesy.

I also like Reese's peanut butter cups, orange cheese, and junk food generally - but I don't feel guilty about them, it's all a part of my heritage!

So I have enough exposure to trash, right? Which is why it is SO FRUSTRATING when trash I don't really like keeps getting in my face. Like Paris Hilton's new song. It's catchy, it's happy... as a consequence, I've found myself singing it pretty much all day, every day for the past two weeks.

Now that is sad. Very sad.

WHY??? Why world? I consume enough trash already!

I can feel my brain cells dying a painful death as I type...

Finally

After what seems like forever (or a very long time, anyway) I've picked, been measured, and paid for a wedding dress.

Okay, my dad paid the deposit, but he wanted to.

I know that there were Saturdays when I didn't get up early, find decent underwear, blow-dry my hair and race to meet my mother, only to traipse around shops full of tulle and satin. I just don't remember them that well.

Now we can concentrate on other important stuff, like a celebrant, the rings, the cake flavour, the honeymoon...

Disturbing

A guest post from The Trouser

Vitebsk, Belarus for me.

Well thank goodness!

After much negotiation, The Trouser and I decided that our big move should be to Dublin, Ireland. We made the decision almost two years ago (I think), and have been talking about it with friends and family (but not his work, who have no idea!) for about a year or so. His parents gave him a Lonely Planet Dublin for his birthday in May.

So when I saw the "What European city do you belong in?" question on fellow SP8 participant blog The Knittin' Coop, I was a bit nervous.

(I know these questionnaires are for fun, and probably lack any scientific basis, but humour me here. Moving to a city where we don't know anyone and haven't been before is a big deal, and I'm keen on any confirmation that the universe wants to throw my way.)

It's ok though:

You Belong in Dublin

Friendly and down to earth, you want to enjoy Europe without snobbery or pretensions. You're the perfect person to go wild on a pub crawl... or enjoy a quiet bike ride through the old part of town.

What European City Do You Belong In?

Whew!

Mountain high, valley low

Well it's been a slightly wilder ride than usual recently, with highs and lows aplenty.

Lows
- My super-interfering uncle - the one who hassled me about my unmarried status at my grandmother's wake - deciding that since our weding ceremony will be outdoors, we can invite all his grandchildren. Cos, ya know, there's nothing better than toddlers we barely know causing havoc.

- Having to email my baby brother to ask him to be my bridesman, since he lives far away and is never at home.

- Two family events in two consecutive days.

Highs
- My fabulous package from my SP: wool, bath treats and a whole fancy package of tester-size hand creams, salves, balms, soaps etc. Thanks SP - I love it!


- Champagne at one of the family events. Pink champagne, no less. I am a sucker for pink drinks.

- Finally making a dress decision. That is, a wedding dress decision. I'd post a link to the photo of the dress, but not only is the photo uglier than the dress is in real life when I wear it (strange but true), but I also know that The Trouser wouldn't be able to resist clicking and looking.

- The Trouser asked a good friend to be his groomsmaid, and she said yes.

- Finding out that you can get alfajores in NZ, made by lovely people in Wellington. I'm trying to get a dozen shipped up to cheer The Trouser, who has been a bit low recently.

- Using my lovely new wool winder, when it works. And The Trouser patiently helping me when it doesn't.

I know, I know, this post is not really up to scratch, but I'm struggling a bit for intelligent things to say. I'll work on it!

Don't touch that dial-up

Thanks to a little music-related Internet activity, a badnwidth cap was exceeded, and the ADSL chez Trouser and Skirt has slowed to dial-up speed.

I don't remember when we had dial-up. I know we did at some point, but it was so long ago!

So until we get our new month's quota, I'm avoiding anything online at home. And thinking about how really, really patient people with dial-up are.

Happy birthday to me!

And it was a really happy birthday. Really, really happy, actually.

The Trouser generally spoiled and looked after me all day on Saturday, with lots of lovely presents, including some new fantastic socks (quite garish but very warm and cuddly!) and a gorgeous antique necklace.

But even better was the fact that we got to spend the day together. All day. We brunched, I had a manicure, we hung out, we looked at wedding bands, and we did it all together.

We also survived a dinner with both of our families. And I got some more presents. (I really like presents a lot. I mean A LOT. Like a three-year-old likes presents.)

I thought it was going to be hard to top last year's birthday, which we spent in the bosom of the Trouser's very extended family, and involved a serenade from an entire restaurant. But it was even better. Maybe ageing is a good thing after all...

Struggling

I'm struggling a little to think of things to blog about this week - plus finding the time to blog! Perhaps The Trouser would like to drop in with a guest blog again? (Hint, hint?)

One of the main reasons I'm struggling is that I'd kind of like this to not just be an outlet for bitchery. And at the moment, bitchery is what I'm getting very, very good at.

So instead, here's the super-abbreviated version of my life at present:

Work: lordy, the new boss is just not suited to the role, nor does she possess the interpersonal skills to learn about it. My fellow team members are too chicken to deal with the situation, so as usual they're taking no responsibility.

Social life: actually had one this week, meeting a friend for drinks and dinner, and I'm meeting up with an old school friend for a catch-up this weekend. This weekend will be pretty busy I think: The Trouser has to spoil me for my birthday on Saturday, and we'll be attending a family dinner that night. I think he's bought me jewellery.

The Trouser: great as always. I think he's bought me jewellery!

The wedding: getting there with the planning. I'd post a link to the potential dress, but The Trouser reads this and has a much self-control as a threee-year-old. At the moment I'm thinking slim fitting, lace, with some beading. My final dress hunt appointment is on the 12th, and then I make a final decision. Boy, am I ever ready to stop spending every Saturday dress-hunting!

We're making some progress on the reception decorations, cake, rings and celebrant too. Just not enough to actually blog about.

Knitting: I finished the scarf made of Muppet yarn, and I'm not sure I like it. It's way too long and thick to be useful, plus i think 1x1 ribbing looks a bit naff. Maybe.

I've finished one sleeve of "Joy", the cardigan I'm working on, and am ready to cast on the second, plus the cuffs. My knitting mojo has been quite un-mojo-like recently though, so who knows when I'll get it done.


And that's all for now folks!