Daily nothings.

It would have been lovely to stay under the protection of my feather doona. To listen to the rain making gentle patterned sounds on my attic roof. Smile to my self as the family head off to school.work.uni and wake up later when my body wants to.

Instead I peeled myself to an almost upright position, mumbled my way downstairs to the coffee machine and sat staring out at the cold winter sky writing my Morning Pages. An attempt to clear the subsequent writers block which has created havoc in my life. I am currently entering the final Act of my script. You'd think the home stretch would be empowering and a downhill glide.

The hours drift by while I sit at work. I pretend to be doing work when the Bosses come past, instead of on Perez, Team-Twilight, Fashion Blogs and Facebook. I wish I had something other to dream of then Jackson Rathborne, Twilights Jasper, who is the hottest thing since Hot Cross Buns, and perhaps R-patz, who is consistently being voted Hottest Man.

My blogs seem to reflect the boredom and lack of obscurity of my daily activities. I am an adventurer. I love experience and thrill and romance. I am a hidden and suffocated Bohemian.

I heard on Triple J last night, in the centre of Paris is a bookstore, Shakespeare and Co. where you can get a bed for free. Between the reference section and history books, beds are available for the travelling wanna-be writer, at the $$ of working an hour a day in the book store. The rest of the time is devoted to writing, reading and musing. Bring it on I say. Now just need at ticket to Paris!

Just Living

Some women really do not grow up. I find it amazing that women in their 50’s behave worse than most of my friends, and god knows some of them know some pretty crazy behavior.
The café where I work, employs a lady who thinks she is Princess Di the second. She tells me all about her Italian lover, in the Mediterranean, and how he flies her over to Italy first class, to sip expensive Italian wine and eat caviar. Her wrists jingle with exuberant gold, and she loves to show off sparkling rings, even while serving coffee. Which she does with a face that can only be compared to Oscar the Grouch and Naomi Campbell. In my most bubbly receptionist voice, I greet her and ask how her holiday was;

Wrinkly Princess; Oh alright. Italian Lover kept buying me designer dresses. And now I’m back in this shit hole.

Me; (Being even nicer and annoying). Oh I’m so jealous. An Italian Lover who buys designer dresses? That amazing!

Wrinkly Princess; Oh it’s so annoying. He just keeps wanting me to be the hottest girlfriend. It’s such a competition between him and his other Pilot Friends. But I get to spend a week on a yatch in Greece so I don’t complain.

Me: Well you must miss him now your back.

Wrinkly Princess: (Snarls) Well I’m stuck in the f@$* hole working and bored again. (Slumps her head on my desk) I hate it here.

Sounds to me like she hates where ever she is, and complains, even when wearing a Versace gown on a yatch. Upon leaving, I waved Bye and said ‘See you soon Wrinkly Princess’ and she raises her eye brows, roles her eyes, and groans. That is all. And when she drops her keys on the way out yells SHIT!

I’m sorry, but did she forget that she is 50?! 5.0.! Dude, that behavior is just not cool!
And to add to my ‘Women Need To Grow Up’ rant, an old lady, at least 90 comes in today, and instead of politly acquiring my attention shouts “Yooo hoooo” and starts demanding names and numbers of people who worked here 30 years ago, leaving her lovely cane sitting on the desk and peering over my shoulder while I find the information for her. RUDE!

And that is my rave about people. But mostly people are nice. I guess the Golden Rule is, you just have to be nice first.

I finally made work friends, (which only took 6 months) and we had lunch today (I finally feel like a working girl in the city). I feel to grown up sometimes. We discussed mortgages and raises and bonus’s. My non-work-friends and I talk about Gossip Girl and Fashion and boys.

I entered adult world without so much as a blink. You know some nights you wake up, and try to adjust your eyes, and figure out where you are? That is how I am feeling. I am figuring out where I am. Because I’m not a student, I don’t work full time, and I’m not an actress yet. So what am I?

Philosophically I guess I’m just existing.

The Ladder Man

To: boredeventsmanager@work.org.au
ccc: boredermarkertingassistant@work.org.au
From: Receptionistnotslave@work.org.au
Subject: Of Great Importance.

Hi girls,

There is a matter of great concern walking up the stairs right now. Carrying a ladder. With a great tan. And bulging biceps. And an amazing jaw line. Heart-melting smile. Singlet wearing. Smelling of summer and sun screen.

I advice. No, urge you. Get off your buts, stop pretending to work (via poking me on facebook) and come have a fricken perv!!!

*Don't worry about it now. He's gone. But not without a brief flirt session and me holding the door open for him and his Big Ladder. I swear I looked like one of those girls off the Price Is Right.

I'll let you know when he comes back to ask for my number.

Hope your is less boring now.

B

xoxo

Spend less and be Fabulous!

The end of my pay fortnight always leaves my wallet a little worse for wear. I reflect on the deliciously fash purchases I made in the last two weeks, especially the new skin care range I needed, since my skin was majorly reacting to the heat of summer.

I have a case of forgetting that this working girl, only works part time. 4 hours every afternoon. Most people don’t really consider this work. But really, I do work hard. I promise. I have to count the mail, (today there’s 5 letters, but some days I have 1000’s), then I have to do the media reports and summaries for all our current media coverage, and send it out to our directors, board members and other VIP’s with unnecessary titles to placate their profile. That all takes about 2 hours. And in between I deal with the phone calls. Some people can be so rude. Lucky they have a receptionist like me who knows how to deal kindly with people who utter the words, do you even know who I am?

Once all that is done, I have to check my facebook, emails and blog, and read yours (thank god for the amusement you all provide!) This usually takes two hours, and in between I manage my acting and writing career, google Gossip Girl, and update myself with Perez. Work can be busy!!!

So in light of my penny-less Mimco, I have had to come up with some sure fire ways to go from feeling like a slumdog to millionaire. (PS – if you haven’t seen Slumdogmillionaire please, please, please do yourself a favour and see it!!! It deserves every award and more!)

Here are my fab pick me up’s.

1. Forget splurging on a mani in a noisy Asian nail studio, buff, polish and shine your own nails. I don’t know about you, but personally, if my nails aren’t done, they literally feel like they are aching! Don’t have time to wait for them to dry in between a busy social life? Paint a nail at a time throughout the day at work. That way, you only have to worry about one nail being wet while typing and answering phones, and you get a more relaxed finish.

2. Can’t afford to buy this months Vogue? Just jump online, check out the hot links, and window shop from your computer screen. And there's always a comp or two to enter.

3. Wash your car. I hate this job. I would much rather pay someone else to do it then have to get out the hose and suds, but driving in a clean, hot little car, blaring Britney makes you feel like a ‘cast’ member of Laguna Beach.

4. Stay in. I hear the sharp in take of shock. Instead of seeing BrideWars or He’s Just Not That In To You, wait for cheap Tuesday when it’s only $10, and spend Friday night on the couch with your favourite chick flick, red wine, thai (always a nice cheap meal) and your bestie’s. Tonight it’s Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and What Happens in Vegas.

5. If you’re a member of the gym, you’ve most likely already paid for it this month, so make the most of it. Nothing feels better then not wanting to go, making yourself, working up a sweat, and coming home feeling more energized and skinnier. I did a yoga class this morning and feel fab!

Or you could be wise with your money and stop buying Sass and Bide jeans and gladiator flats so you can afford to go out and pamper yourself. Either way, I hope this weekend is exiting and adventurous!!!

Do you have more ideas on how to indulge yourself and spend less?
Xoxo

Work is Fab.

The things that make a fabulous day.

1. Going into the dirty, over crowded staff kitchen, desperately needing a green tea to accompany my caramel kiss, and getting the last tea bag. It was like it was sitting there waiting for moi.
2. Finally making friends with the girls my age. We now have regular afternoon gos sess. ‘round my desk.
3. Getting compliments on my hair. That only took 5 minutes this morning.
4. It still being sunny and hot outside.
5. Thinking about going for a swim in my fav pool on the harbor. (I’m too scared to swim in the ocean after a series of shark attacks. It’s Jaws 5 here in Oz. Great whites are up 80% leaving me swimming only in the safety of an enclosed 4 walls).
6. Applying my new Elizabeth Arden lipgloss at 30 minute intervals.
7. The phone not ringing for 20 minutes.
8. Not doing any work.
9. Reading fun blogs.
10. Booking my hair extensions next week. I’m totally going to be the Australian Blake Lively!

2008 Has Happened

NYE went off with a BANG. This is my view from a party on the water of Sydney Harbour. I may or may not be location-dropping.

I made no resolutions this year.

I put no expectations on other people.

I simply decided three things.

1. I will have 3 TV commercials.

2. My script will be picked up by a producer and will be performed as a play and/or made into a film.

3. My full time job will revolve around social justice. I will be getting paid to care for people and justice full time.

For the last three years I naively and stupidly hoped for a husband. I spent NY surrounded by girls all seeking husbands and the fulfilling of relationships. They are all married.

And as repeatedly stated in this blog. I am Still. Single.

And loving it.

I had no New Years pashes, although there was an advance from a guy I dated for about a week a few months ago. He was drunk and being a sleaze. My conscience told me I was worth more than that.

I spent the last three days on the beach somewhere up the coast, tanning, watching dolphins swim and watching lots of chick-flicks.

I am in full holiday mode.

Well that was until my dreamy sleep last night was interrupted by disturbing dreams of going back to work. Tomorrow. Another year. Please God, let this year be good.

I feel like I achieved very little last year, and then I remember, I finished my degree, moved into a very promising job, got an agent, and have the best friends in the world. Life is good.

Hope you all had fabulous New Years and Chrissy's.

xo

The Kind Advice of the Department Store Ladies

At the beginning of the year, I spent six months working for a designer in a Department Store. Unfortunately it wasn't some top end, most wanted designer. She designed for the older women, with classic money to spend on boring cardies cost $450 each.

I was the youngest person working there, by 40 years. There were 5 ladies, all glamorous and ageing ever so gracefully. And they taught me worldly wonders. I thought I would share a few.

1. The power of classic red lipstick. It brightens any dull day. Apply after meals and blot, with a gloss over the top, it can stay on for hours. Just don't chew it off.

2. A string of pearls goes a long way. Invest in the real deal, or just a cheap $20 fake-a-rooney but no matter what the occasion, they always go down spectacularly. Just look at Carrie in Sex and the City running around town on NYE with her string dangling delicately over her PJ's.

3. Be polite and respectable to people older than you. Use Mrs. or Sir. unless instructed otherwise. I had priceless conversations with older women, and men, and heard incredible stories, from a writers point of view, just through showing a little respect.

4. No matter what the rules, coffee should always be aloud at work. We used to always get in trouble for sneaking coffee's in, and sitting in our little stock room for 11 o'clock coffee and chocolate break. I thought it was funny, that middle aged women still giggled over breaking the rules.

5. It is possible to have a successful, happy marriage, and still be glamorous, even at 60.

3 out of 5 of the women were still happily married to their first husbands, one was married to a Frenchman, which I thought was cute, and the other dated more than I. They all wore gorgeous high heals, and patterned stockings. And as young adults had been actresses. What are the odds. Everyone of them had been an actress. I vowed never to become a shop girl again to avoid being stuck there till retirement.

One more valuable piece of information they imparted in my short time with them was this. You don't have to marry what appears to be Mr. Right. You don't have to wait around for The Knight to gallop along at a blinding speed and whisk you off. You can get out and love life. Date a few men, get a broken heart or two. But live life fabulously and daringly.

And so, whilest surrounded by doting couples, I will hold my head high, and not worry if D is he or not. I will not search the face of every man I see any longer, trying to find the spark that means he's for me.

I also learnt from these ladies, that black is the most fashionable colour, throw a coloured wrap around your neck, and teamed with the pearls and red lippy, you're always ready in glamorous heals.

We worked across from the shoe department.

Sex and the Sydney City

Some of us are trying to do work!

My desk sits at the bottom of the stairs, welcoming the predominately elderly as they arrive to visit the gallery and enjoy the café, designed specifically for the aging. While our office staff pass me by and I enjoy this relatively 'younger' crowd, there are moments in my day, between complaining members of the organization with their wasting-my-time phone calls, and long loud lunches of women catching up, that I want to run screaming. I work for a non-for-profit organisation, that looks after old heritage buildings and beautiful properties. As you can imagine, this draws on the heart strings of the above 70 crowd, with nothing to do but visit old gardens and make phone calls, complaining to me about the state of our City and the councils tyrannical reign, pulling down old buildings. Somehow, it always becomes my fault that there is to much development, or a property is not listed in the yellow pages, or someone hasn't received their bi-monthly newsletter. I mean seriously, do they realise I am at the bottom of the food chain?

Right now, I am trying to do media reports, reading about politics, answering phone calls, usually two or three at once, and listening by a bunch of 70 year old women visiting their old school, screaming like 15 year olds and carrying on! They spent 15 minutes trying to climb the stairs behind me, stood under the old school emblem, told me stories of the scary headmistress and won't seem to leave. Ah, hello, there are people running a business here!!!

In other news, I watched Sex and the City movie this morning. It always fills me with a sense of nostalgia, a sadness for growing old, this impending doom that it will happen, yet I know I will do it with my friends. I have a SATC group. We are literally one character each. R

Rachel is Samantha, her latest claim to fame is that she 'f*cked a guys brains out' in the front of a Catholic church next door to her uni the other night.

Kylie is Miranda, a hard working, tough little bitch. This friendship is a little on the rocks. She seems to resent me a little because I have other friends then her, and in a recent move to escape her life down here, she met and boy (a dick head if you ask me) and moved 7 hours north to the capital of Nowhere. She begs me to come and visit, and I decline. I'd rather soak my feet in horse poo then spend a night in Nowhere. Besides, I'm saving for my big OS adventure!

Chez is sweet Charlotte. Chez and I are the ones who at 17 decided not to have sex because every one else was, and to wait till our wedding nights. One little mistake on my behalf - oops - but she stands strong in her convictions. She's the sweetheart of our group. The driven PR agent who mediates between bitchiness and is still finding her voice.

I am Carrie. I'm not sure if its because I don't fit any other category, or because I often fall into the paradigm that the world revolves around me. I like to think it's because I'm the most fashion savvy, or the witty writer. What ever it is, I'm happy being Carrie. She stands for something great. Episode after episode revolving around being single. Finding Mr. Right. Or Mr. Big. The most heartbreaking moment in all of film - k maybe not all - was when Big left her at the alter. Did anyone else's heartbreak too?

I like to think of us girls as Sex in the Sydney City. We're catching up tonight. It's been about a month. In that time, Kylie is still in No Man's Land with her abusive boyfriend, Chez and Rach have finished degrees, moved to the city and started working full time, and I am rearranging my life big time. We will have sushi for dinner, and talk about politics and fashion, and pretend life isn't happening. We will meet our sexy men for Salsa dancing, and go home, no longer living 5 minutes from each other like we did when we were 16. We will act as if we are the girls who have just finished school, exited about the future and life starting.

Well it has started, and it has taken us by surprise. I want to grow old with these girls. I want to find myself on my 50th birthday, dressed head to toe in designer, looking "Fifty and Fabulous" and know I did life with my best friends.