Showing posts with label socks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label socks. Show all posts

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. ~Albert Einstein

Lack of material! that is my completely legit excuse for not writing in a while. In leu of my France trip this year I have been working 40hour weeks in the vain hope that by taking on a ridiculous work load I will be able to save more than I spend (though, I am sure the new Zara store opening in the city will change this)
So this blog will focus on 2 stories from work......because that is my life from 11am to 11pm.
Story one isn’t actually from work but my theory is that if I tell it first you will forget it the most quickly. 
Exhaustion and lack of escapades has led me to post something that, a few short months ago I promised I would only tell my closest friends about... and only when they were either drunk or intensely preoccupied.
So, in the “Persa Hotel” one fine evening after work and it was a lovely evening. My friends from university and I partook in some after dinner drinks*, with some gentlemen^ and afterwards we waltzed and foxtrotted the evening away

*we got hammered
^physio guys who couldn’t hold their liqueur 
1 there was nothing elegant about the way we danced ~ I believe the words “grind” and “handsy” best draw the filthy picture
Anywho, I met a friend of a friend from uni and in an attempt to save some self respect I “little girl” danced with him (aka lots of twirling, standing on their shoes as they dance for you ect ect). Let it be know that I considered him “safe”; I wasn’t after anything ~ he was  FRIEND from UNI,
.................. so naturally I spent the rest of the evening making out with him.
For the record, on the Bridie’s scale of hook ups he was a safe 9 ~ also known as BRILLIANT. He really rocked my socks.

So I left and went home....after a while* of brilliant hooking up.
*hours
Now this all happened on a Friday night so it was one of the rare occasions that I actually saw my Father the next morning. At 10ish I dragged my sorry ass down to the kitchen for a coffee to find my Father there as well. He smiled in his “I was 19 too once” kind of way and asked how my night was, I kissed, cuddled him and said “great”. 
As I get on my tippy toes and cuddle my Dad I smell something really familiar, really, really familiar and then I remember!
the guy I spent most of all night and that morning making out with smells EXACTLY like my Father
:o
ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
grrrrrroooooooooossssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
It wasn’t even his aftershave or his deodorant ~ his general scent  was a perfect match.
I could see Freud cakling madly and strumming his fingers together as I perfectly fit into his mold (Freud said that the Oedipus complex for women was “killing your mother and marrying your Father”) 


described by "WIKIPEDIA"


"The Oedipus complex, in psychoanalytic theory, is a group of largely unconscious (dynamically repressed) ideas and feelings which concentrate on the desire to possess the parent of the opposite sex and eliminate the parent of the same sex.[1][2] According to classical psychoanalytic theory, the complex appears during the so-called "oedipal phase" of libidinal and ego development; i.e. between the ages of three and five years, though oedipal manifestation may be detected earlier.[3][4]"



the Danish cycling team 


DISTRACTION!!!!!!
story no.2 is about the Dutch cycling team ~sigh~ never such a group of muscular, tall, blonde haired boys (that they would flick out of their dazzling blue eyes) ever crossed the threshold of Da Pasquale’s (the restaurant). So, apparently the track cycling championships were on in Melbourne and they attended the restaurant every evening for 3 weeks. On the last evening they all said goodbye to us, they were very cute in a Danish kind of way. I was leaving at the same time and I left via the back door where I met one of the Dutch boys who shook my hand and said
“my name is Jan” (pronounced Yan)
and kissed me 
it was pretty horrible, mainly because I jumped back and cursed him (and by “cursed” I mean “swore horrifically”) he only smiled, left and in my shaken state by the back entrance  I heard the sound of high fives and wolf whistles ~ funny how you don’t need to speak english to understand.....

Anywho,
       I am in the process of writing a more intellectual post
so stay tuned hommies 
peace out

Hang on!! something worthwhile~~.... I was introduced the other day to the

"SCRUNCH OR FOLD DEBATE"



interestingly by my latest crush ~ further intensifying not wet blanketed the crush ~ weird 

Apparently how you wipe your bottom can tell someone alot about who you are:

From nowhere he asked me, “Do you scrunch or fold?” He discussed the fact that people either folded the toilet paper or scrunched it before applying it to their dirty bottoms.
After some intense polling, one researcher (me), found that neat, sensible and the more cautious among us tended to (not always) be Folders and the lazy and carefree tended to be Scrunchers. Both argue that their method achieves better access and is a softer feel. However, Scrunchers suggest their method is quicker, more efficient and keeps their hands further from the ‘danger zone’, whereas Folders believe Scrunchers are not able to clean as thoroughly.
Further more, one (many) drunken discussions has revealed that there is another division of people: those who stand and those who sit during a crevice cleansing sessionSitters lean to one side to gain access whereas Standers actually get up off the seat to sanitize their sphincter. Standers think sitting and leaning is weird and cannot achieve good access, whereas Sitters think standing will lead to extra mess from squishing!
So, by cross referencing my two areas of discussion I have found that everyone can be categorised into the following groups:
  • Folder-Sitter: You seem an open and fun person, but are also quite private and guarded

  • Folder-Stander: You are tidy and neat, but also quite practical and like to do things your way

  • Scruncher-Stander: You have a healthy perspective on life and have a good balance of work, play and friendships as well

  • Scruncher-Sitter: You are a lazy so and so, but are actually quite happy with life and a great friend and companion.

There you go....
hope that cheered your evening.
or not.
Also there has been some anonymous talks about "mentions" 
~ consider yourselves; (every one who wants to be) mentioned.
xoxox

peace love and happiness
bridie

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am. ~ Sylvia Plath

LIFE LESSONS

o.k so I think I’ve been taught some lessons over the last few weeks, knowledge that I feel should be imparted to my fellow bloggers: 
Mates before dates, bros before hoes, chicks before dicks ect ect
So, as much as what your friends have to say may be rude, unnecessary, cruel and exactly what you don’t want to hear, actually....
lets do one of those out of body things:
sit down or lay in a comfortable place and close your eyes...........
*soothing music* 
yessss thats the way
now, imagine your soul or whatever you believe to be residing in you body and envision it floating out of your body and into the sky
look at your situation from outside you body
see all the people involved
yourself
their actions
your actions 
what is said
what is done
and see that even though you want to take your friends put them in a large cage and suspend them over a large bubbling pot of sewage they may just be right.
Consider that these people see what you can only see through creepy meditation techniques and that maybe their ability to tell you things that only they can is what makes them your friends in the first place.
As well as this, men and/or women (depending on your sexual orientation) 
 will come and go but friends will stay....willingly.....and in the mean time get Masters in “(insert your name here)’s relationships” They will see your patterns, your type, your crushes and your whims. So when they say something, its more like an educated guess from years of study, practical work, assignments, group projects all adding up to one ENORMOUS thesis that makes them know you better than you know yourself.
So, even though, maybe its not what you want to hear or makes you want to cry yourself to sleep for the next 20 years MAYBE, JUST MAYBE its true.


Everything is easier in foresight
OOHHHHHH! how freak’n easy is it to say
“I didn’t know what I thinking”
or 
“I was over reacting”
But at that time 
IT WAS THE BIGGEST DEAL OF THAT MOMENT IN YOUR LIFE!!
And trivialising it is undervaluing to yourself.
I’am valuable
It’s easy to make it all about someone else sometimes, giving them all time to figure things out, waiting for a call ect ect
But you know what?
~Even though I’m not PARTICULARLY ATTRACTIVE
~Iam fat -ISH
~I have COMMITMENT ISSUES
~I eat CEREAL for LUNCH (and dinner if i’m home alone)
~On my days off I play THE BEATLES and LED ZEPPIN over the loud speakers and air guitar like a pro
~I WHISTLE and SKIP and HUM
~I love TAROT CARDS and I read my HOROSCOPE 
(whether i believe them is a different story)
~I SING ALOUD to songs on my I-POD
~and I’am currently in possession of a ONE WAY TICKET to France for August next year
That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be CHACED and WOOED and MADE TO FEEL BEAUTIFUL and BE ADMIRED and CHERISHED and LAUGHED WITH. 
I realised that being LED ON or not given ALL THOSE THINGS is not o.k.
Set the lone socks free!!


In my room I have a bag of lone socks. Its a massive bag. I have NO IDEA where their pairs have gone but at the moment i have at least 30 single socks.
SO, laugh at me if you will, but I can’t chuck them out; I feel as if these socks are an analogy for my life and if I throw them out I’m just helping society fuel stereotypes against single people. What is wrong with odd socks? 
I keep my unpaired socks not out of pity, or cheapness (i CAN AFFORD socks if I WANTED TOO!! jesus....) but out of single peoples solidarity ........ 
some people burn bras I wear odd socks.
To sign off -
It doesn’t matter how great a guy is I’M A GREAT GIRL TOO! and I will wear my odd socks with pride and I have great taste in music and some great friends who have valuable advice.... will i listen to it next time? probably not.....

Love, peace, happiness always
Bridie
xoxoxo