Dec. 15th, 2010 09:30 pm
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Long time no post!

Life continues apace. 10 sleeps till Christmas. Fired off a job app for a job which would be ridiculous levels of squee. 11 sleeps till I'm 27 which sounds rather grown-up, but then I supposed 26 sounded pretty damn grown-up last year.
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Last night J and I celebrated our anniversary with delicious dinner and bubbly and watching depressing films.* It was nauseatingly sweet. And if the supermarket cashier didn't judge our lifestyle when we walked up to the counter with booze, cigarettes, icecream and condoms then she is some kind of saint.

Today was payday, and also Sort Out My Travel Monies day, and with 2k in pounds sterling on one card and a new substantial term deposit ... I'm very much feeling my middle-class-ness. And pointlessly terrified, as though the money is going to just vanish if I'm not extra-careful with it. No, I'm not still suffering the aftereffects of a very money-deprived childhood, why do you ask?

*Seriously though, The Wrestler is phenomenal. Just ... very grim.


Aug. 30th, 2010 12:01 am
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As of tomorrow (technically today but that's what I get for staying up late) Mr J and I will have been going out for four. Whole. Years.

It's a bit terrifying TBH.

Fortunately we are still as horridly nauseating as ever, especially in public.
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J purchased Rock Band 2 today - possibly the last copy in Wellington, which he is by no means hugely smug about.

Wearing my vocal chords out with some NiN has certainly helped ease the stupid-induced tension I was feeling this arvo. I've hit the "oh thank God I'm only here for 6 more months, I can totally last that long if I just switch off my emotion chip" mark. Which is never a good sign. You'd think workplaces would give a toss about their staff being overstressed and undersupported, if only in the name of operational efficiency.

Went to see Jeanette Fitzsimons' valedictory this evening. It was ... good, but obviously sad. Especially when she brought up Rod Donald. I did NOT get teary in the House of Reps, no sirree.

Tomorrow my term deposit expires and I will have a crapload of money sitting in my savings. I am not stressing out from sheer responsibility-aversion at all. Nor am I in any way worried about starting sentences with "I was talking to a Wealth Advisor at the bank and ..."

Shan't be grown-up. SHAN'T I SAY.
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Today was a Grown-Up Day. I had a meeting with a financial advisor. At my bank. About savings and investment.

It was a bit weird.

But on the plus side I was praised and told that my existence (as a young person with concrete/achievable savings goals, a set-but-flexible budget and no credit card) made someone very excited. Which has really left me feeling much more relaxed about things.

Now if only my brain would get the message so I could stop waking up at 4.28am every morning in a panic because I haven't filed enough sleep in the correct folders of the work document management system, everything would be lovely.

PS. Dear Wellingtonians, I would be ever so obliged if you would respect my desire to be a Sevens-Free Zone. The Sevens is not sport, nor entertainment; it is a vortex of evil and a vital link in Satan's plans for bringing about Armageddon.
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So tomorrow is the first day at the New Job. I have to accept I will probably horribly embarrass myself in some way in my first week; I have to accept that it will take me a while to figure out if/what horrible office politics and personality clashes there are in the office; I have to try to learn everything I can and build up my skills as much as possible; I have to make myself indispensable and hope they can roll over my contract or expand the team when the maternity-leave staffmember returns; I have to ultimately face the fact that come August my contract expires and I have no guarantee of subsequent employment no matter how brilliant I may be or how much they may love my work.

Just a wee bit stressed out here, chaps.

J seems to be having a period of enforced working-from-home given that his work building hasn't actually reopened yet and he has no outside-hours access. Lucky bastard.

And to top everything off I'm obsessively calculating and re-calculating my savings plan for the year trying to make the same numbers work out differently.

This is clearly a time for tea.
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Someone remind me whenever I'm feeling down that I am a godalmighty GODDESS of roasting chicken. The Dan was highly pleased.

It's also damn nice to be in that Christmas/New Year period where I just don't have to know what day it is.
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Righto, having consumed tea, orange juice, chips and wrestling, I feel up to a proper Christmas-themed update.

Christmas Day: We were in the Tron and headed out to J's parents' place for delicious barbeque lunch. I was totally not expecting to get presents, but more fool me - pretty jewellery and bath smellies from J's parents (aka his mum) and a really pretty blank journal with a sparkly corset-themed cover from his sister R. And J's gift from his brother was labelled "To Uncle J and Aunty S" so clearly I am One Of Them now.

Obligatory Christmas embarrassment moments: J's sister also-J giving him a lecture about Making An Honest Woman Out Of Me before we have kids; J's mother referring to me as "a total Earth Mother" after I had the one-year-old niece thrust into my arms; swearing in front of J's dad. *pauses for expected ZOMG YOU WHAT??? from Tron-people*

J however maintains that this last has only endeared me to his siblings because (a) they would never get away with it and (b) apparently they think I am "a nice polite girl" so find it hilarious.

Non-embarrassing Christmas hilarity: Being in a wonderful outsider-looking-in position to observe Tense Family Dynamics. God it's much better when it's not my *own* family bullshit.

Boxing Day: Driven up to Auckland-town by J's dad. Brunch with Mum/stepdad2/stephellspawn/Grandfather, full of delicious Emotional Bollocks, but the *main* thing was ZOMG DIGITAL CAMERA from Grandfather. J now took the role of Outside Observer Shaking Head Sadly At Family Dynamics.

BBQ dinner with Grandma/rest of Auckland-based fam. More excellent gifts including Borders gift card, iTunes gift card, pretty jewellery. Had to verbally bitchslap Elder Stephellspawn for calling cousin A a "homo". Think he now lives in fear of me. Am pleased.

Back to A&A's for *real* New York pizza and gossip and sleeping. And delicious raspberry liqueur thing.

Today: Brunch with A&A, flight home, semi-comatose setting up of Rock Band, Dunkin Donuts.

Next: Getting well pissed and playing some drums.

Minor political rant: RSA 0, Jewish Council 1. Because nothing screams "we're desperately striving for relevance"* like saying that a group of dedicated WW2 re-enactors "just don't understand the symbolism" of Nazi uniforms.

Side snark: anyone else read the Granny Herald's description of "Nazi uniforms" vs. the re-enactors "suchandsuch regiment" and wonder which of the two actually knows what they're talking about?

*Copyright Paula Bennett, 2009, all rights reserved.


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Boxing Day Baby

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