Thursday, October 30, 2008

Arty farty Bruxelles

To be honest, I was surprised. This was my second time to Brussels, and I had expected the same experience as the first - a weekend of mussels and Leffe brune. Not so much chocolate, cause I wasn't with any chocoholics ;) So let's get the mussels and Leffe out of the way first.

Empty pots!

I have to say, that Brussels is now one of my top cities, just cause it was soo much fun walking around finding murals of my childhood memories :)

Asterix anyone? Goscinny & Uderzo!

Asterix is amazing. Really entertaining stories for the youngen, but I only learnt to appreciate the characters when I was older. There's:
:: Asterix: A footnote, symbolised by *. The STAR of the comic! Eh? Eh?
:: Obelix: A menhir (obelisk) deliverer by profession. Not allowed to have any potion since he fell into the potion cauldron as a baby, hence his strength.
:: Dogmatix: The doggy sidekick.
:: Getafix: The druid which deals out the magic potion *grin*
:: Unhygienix: *lol* My fave, he's the fishmonger :)
:: Cacofonix: The bard that always ends up gagged under the tree at the end of the story.
:: Vitalstatistix: The chief of the clan!

How could you not love a comic book filled with character puns? :) For more character info, here's the wiki.
Here's Tintin, the Captain and Snowy!

Here's Lucky Luke:

(I don't actually remember reading Lucky Luke comix,
but I must've because the drawings are so familiar)

Here's B carrying a brick *lol*

The only mural we missed, was the Smurfs :( I'm sure it's there somewhere. This year is the 50th anniversary of the Smurfs even :) So next time you're in Brussels, eat your mussels, drink your Leffe, then do the mural walking tour!

Bad horoscope

The brilliant thing about working in HR, is that I come across a few psychoanalyst along the way *grin* _Of_course_ I'm going to ask them about the first impression I make *lol* It's almost like getting my palm read :) This reader came highly recommended ;) So I asked, "From what you know, what do you think of me?"

"You're someone who likes a laugh in life. But I can see you as very passionate about certain things in life. You're very honest with yourself, and to others."

Hrm... "But you can say that about anyone!"

Psychoanalyst: "There are certain things you can say about everyone, but there are also certain things that are true to specific personalities."
Me: "You're just saying what I want to hear!"
Psychoanalyst: "So I ask the same question back, what did you think about me?"
Me: "Err, you're obviously very spiritual." (That's the best I could muster up. I ain't a psychoanalyst :P)

CH - I know what you're thinking, so don't even go there! *finger snaps*

Monday, October 27, 2008

Teach me something

I was offered a chance to be an experimental guinea pig coachee today. Coaches for executives were being vetted for The Corporation. The oriental in me went, "Eh? FREE executive coaching? OK!" :D So I jumped at it. Sort of. I jumped because a friend wanted to pull out and needed me to fill in. My brief - come up with a real-life work issue. That was easy. I've got a big FAT juicy one. Organisational bullying at a senior level. Orifice politics. How do you deal with it?

The mediators gave me a 5 minute spiel about confidentiality, stressing nothing discussed would leave the room. Confidentiality? *Pish posh* Least of my worries. I was as open as a contractor without a corporate ladder to climb could be.
I handed it all over to the Coach on a silver platter... Only to have the Coach keep asking me, "How could you have handled it in a different way?"

Errr, I don't know, that's why you're suppose to be coaching me. Obviously, the methods I tried didn't work. So how do I deal with bullying people who are aggressive and high up on the chain?

And it kept going on round-and-round. Instead of answers, I just got more pointless questions.

Eventually the strain was too hard on my eyeballs and they started rolling around too everytime the Coach asked me a question :P So I started to take the piss.

Wannabe-Coach: "So who else do you think you could've spoken to about the abusive manager?"
I name the Chief Executive of The Corporation and chuckle.
Wannabe-Coach: "Who's that?"
I *sigh*. A good in-joke wasted.

With time running out on the 45 min session, this is how the Coach ended.
Wannabe-Coach: "You basically have three options. You can quit. You can knuckle down, ignore it, and just do the work. You can try and make a change in a company that doesn't want change. They're all bad. You've picked the least bad one out of the three. Are you ok with that?"

What sort of numbskull coaching is that?!?

Me: "NO. Why should I be ok with having to pick the least evil of three evils?!? It's not a solution. I refuse to accept that there isn't a better resolution."

This Coach told me he has a background in psychoanalysis. Here's one of the things wiki says about psychoanalysis, it's "a systematized set of theories about human behaviour". What I would've expected a psychoanalyst to do, is provide me with some background on the profile of an aggressive bully, and the best methods of communication which work effectively with these sorts of personalities!


What I didn't expect was to leave the session feeling more depressed about having to pick the "best" out of a bunch of shtty options.

The session ended, and the mediator took some time to give me some advice. He gave me exactly the sort of information and handy tip I was looking for. When a senior butthole yells at you, hold both your hands up, palms facing the butthole. Say, "Stop". If that person keeps yelling, close your eyes, and calmly repeat, "Stop". Next, ask the person, "What are you trying to achieve with this conversation?"

Reign in the conversation, let the other person think they still have control, move the conversation forward :)

Simple. Hopefully, I never have to try it, but I'm actually looking forward to it now *grin*

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Girly talk around the cooler

Today, I made the mistake of getting involved in a girly chat with err... girls :P The green-eyed monster came out, as I listened to the girls regale each other with stories about their "bastard" Exes. The ones who bought them everything they wanted when they were dating. It started when one girl couldn't decide what to do with gold and diamond earrings a bastard Ex had given her. From there it developed...

One girl took the bastard Ex back to the shop and insisted he exchange his lousy gift with something she wanted that was a few hundy squids more expensive. Diamonds are a girl's best friend - Bling bling!

One girl insisted her bf buy her an entire set of jewellery, as it wasn't often she came across a bracelet which fit her petite wrist. And, "No, that's not part of my Christmas present, don't you try that game on me", she said as her head waggled with *attitude*.

One girl just points out what she wants and says, "Yes, get it for me". Hence, she has no qualms about keeping the gifts from bastard Exes.

Another girl just donates her designer handbag gifts from bastard Exes to family members.

When it's my turn for a story, I quip up with, "Wow, I should stop dating homeless guys" *lol*

These guys weren't bastards, they were just stupid :P

There is no way I can write this entry without sounding... bitter? *grin* But, I'm assuming you want to hear it anyway, right? ;) To me, it's not about the price tag. I've always been able to afford anything I've wanted. I will admit though, having never had it from any guy I've dated, I would looove to be spoilt and gifted with luxury items. Just once... I imagine myself whisked to a fancy boutique hotel for an all-planned, all-inclusive, pampering weekend away, somewhere romantic!

I love that dream bubble.

To me, it's about the One who loves me most, knowing me best. So it use to suck heaps when the guy I use to love most, never got it right. Do you know how hard it is to smile and think, "It's the thought that counts", when deep inside you feel your soul crushing because he got it soooo wrong? To the point I wished he would stop buying me gifts for my birthday or whatever because it was just a reminder of how little he knew me...

Anyways, it's funny, cause when I think about it now, after the relationship ended, there was nothing of value I could throw away. Jewellery? Nada. Clothes? Nope. Anything designer? *twiddle thumbs* Doo do doo dooo. As if!! :) On the other hand, I'd like to see him burn that AUD$800 pair of Evisu jeans I got him :P His ass doesn't deserve designer.

There's a side of me that just wants to slap the girls for being soo thoughtless and manipulative.

Then there's the other side of me, which says, "Hey, they're the ones that have got it right". They get what they want. There's nothing wrong with that. It just makes me sad that there are stupid rich guys out there and I haven't dated any of them *lol*

For the record, I'm a great gift giver ;)

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

People watching in Soho

From one of my favourite restaurants :) Love it. If you're nice to me, I'll take you there...

(PS: SM&JH - I'm wearing your scarfie :D )

In trouble

An email popped into my mailbox yesterday... "Just to let you know, dates have been confirmed for our Winter courses. Check it out, thought you might be interested."

Intro to Ice-Climbing? Chamonix? Ice axes? CRAMPONS?!?

ZOMG! I splash the cash for the deposit and book my flight to Geneva before the easyjet sale ends.

Today, 15 mins before a concall is set to begin, I bolt through the underground mall to Starrybux for a Mocha Frapp Light (only 110 calories in a Tall :p).

Bugger. I was puffed! It wasn't very far. Ruh roh... Climb up a mountain?!? In cold weather?!? What was I thinking?!?!

I have 2 months to get fit. *sigh* Time to start up the gym again...

Burning Man (the bill)

Today, I finally settled the bill. So, what's the approx damage per person?

Ticket for Burning Man = £168.00
Flights LHR -> SFO return = £692.70
RV hire = £292.42
Petrol = £42.38
Safeway groceries = £62.81
Misc stuff for RV & trip = £49.01
Biiiicycle, biiiicycle (BMX!) = £30.00

Headlamps = £9.82
RV cleaning/washing = £11.90
Misc glow-in-the-dark gear = £7.09

Grand Poobah Total of... *DRUM ROLL*... £1366.13!!

Worth every penny :) Honestly, I had such an amazing time, and saw so much stuff. It's done and I'll never regret it. I look back, and I still can't believe it. Can't put a price on that feeling.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008


Remember my citation ticket? The one I was smacked down with in August? *Exactly* a month ago, after loads of googling and various emails back and forth, I finally got a number to speak to a human bean from Conta Costra Courts. Yeah, exactly - Conta-whatta? Not so easy to track down where my El Cerrito citation ends up.

The human bean told me that there was a backlog, I wasn't in the system yet, call back in a month. This was in September.

TODAY, with my court date being 7 days away, I started to get a little anxious. So I called back again. Guess what?

Dylan: "I'm sorry, but you're still not in the system."
Me: "What?!? But my court date's on the 28th!"
Dylan: "Don't worry, this happens to everyone. Everyone calls up about this. We've just got a lot of paperwork."
Me: "Am I going to get thrown into jail by Customs the next time I enter the US?"
Dylan: "Yes, we're going to lock you up straight away!"

We both burst out laughing over the phone. I tell the guy the citation's for jaywalking.

Dylan: "I bet you, you were crossing infront of the BART station."
Me: "OMG! YES! I *knew* that cop was waiting for me!!!"
Dylan: "Don't worry, just call us back in a month. I hope it's not this bad in the UK."
Me: "You know what? We don't get citations for jaywalking in the UK!"

Bastard coppa! I *knew* it!!!

Sunday, October 19, 2008

Le fantastique!

We thought we had been blessed with a table at The Fat Duck, but when that fell through, we picked Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester instead. Well, la dee da! I have to say, that The Dorchester (hangout of Kate Moss), really _is_ the swishest hotel I've ever been to. This is luxury defined. The restaurant, was decked out in elegance. For the first time, I felt it would've been wrong of me to whip out my camera to take some food pr0n *grin*

Better still, I was surrounded by shexy French accents allllll night :D *swoon*

The evening started out well. We were very well behaved as we sipped our champagne aperitifs. My entree of "Soft-boiled organic EGG, crayfish and wild mushrooms, Nantua sauce" was sooooo good... The sauce... oooomg, it was sooo tasty!
*drool* Err, I just looked it up, and Nantua sauce is made out of sauteed LIVE crayfish (o_O) Oops, that was a bit evil of me.

As the half bottle of white wine started flowing, we got more and more giggly. I'm sure people were looking at us *grin*

My main of "Fillet of BEEF and seared FOIE GRAS Rossini, "sacristain" potatoes, "Periqueux" sauce", was sadly, a bit on the ordinary side. The foie gras rossini was delicious, the beef however, was average. Good beef, but nothing special. I think I've figured it out, avoid ordering beef at French restaurants. There's just nothing very exciting the French can do to a fillet of beef.

As the half bottle of red wine reached its end, we were in stitches. I can't remember what we were laughing about, but I'm sure it was dang funny *grin* As the Sommelier comes over with my dessert wine, I'm still giggly. He starts showing us the bottle and explaining the wine to us. His accent was so dreamy, I asked him to repeat the name of the wine for us *lol* The wines he recommended for us that night were all excellent, I was impressed.

Ok, so I snuck a photo on my iPhone. Here's our yummy "ROSE and RASPBERRY pleasure":

At the end of the night, I sidled up to the Restaurant Director.
Me: "Bonsoir Monsieur!"
RD: "Bonsoir! Ça va?"
Me: (Sh*t, "bueno" is Spanish! What's French?!?) "Err, bien?"
RD: "Good! How can I help you?"
Me: "Could you do me a favour please? I would love a souvenir. Is it possible for me to get a signed menu from the Chef and a list of the wines we had tonight?"
RD: "Of course!"

The Restaurant Director comes back with a signed menu for me.
RD: "Would you like to see the kitchen and meet the Chef?"
Me: "That would be nice..." :D

We were shown to a very SPOTLESS kitchen and introduced to the Executive Chef for a chat :) I offerred to marry the Pastry Chef, unfortunately he was already married with a toddler. I should've made a move on the Saucier or Sommelier instead! As we leave the restaurant, we're handed a complimentary package of orange cakes. Nice touch.

Overall, I think I paid for the experience of dining at The Dorchester more than for the food itself. It's hard to explain, but I don't think it's possible to find this standard of service and atmosphere anywhere else. Comparative to all the other restaurants I've been to anyway. Or maybe it's just because I had great company that night :) I can't believe we got trashed at a very fancy adult restaurant! I feel like a rebel ;)

I must stop kissing girls

... because they always look like this :P

Partying till 5am with short Italianos:

Neptune's Grotto:

Puppy sensing evil sea urchin spines in my toe:

Topping up on my tan:

Group shot! Aaah, what a great holiday!!


There's a mural on a random house wall around Newtown area... I remember zooming past it on the train every morning as I trekked from Blacktown to the City, making my way either to Uni or work. I didn't think much about it, apart from that I thought it was pretty cool of someone to stick it up there. I loved looking at it everytime I made the commute.

Last week, a mate sent me a BBC article entitled, "The other man on the podium". Who was the third man on the podium for the black power salute? I looked a little closer at the colour picture of the third man:

Holy moly! There's a kangaroo on his jacket! How cool, he's an Aussie! :) Peter Norman was the 200m silver medalist at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

The smile on my face soon disappeared as I read more about what happened to Peter Norman after that day. On the podium, Peter Norman wore a badge from the Olympic Project for Human Rights, an organisation against racism. He did it to support fellow medalists Tommie Smith and John Carlos in their cause. From that moment on, Australia turned its back on Peter Norman. Even though Peter Norman qualified to make the 1972 Olympic Games in Munich, he wasn't chosen to represent Australia. At the 2000 Sydney Olympics, he was the only Australian Olympian excluded from the VIP lap of honour. The Americans showed better manners and invited Peter Norman to be part of their camp. They at least, didn't forget.

Until last week, I had never heard of Peter Norman. I'm ashamed.
This guy's a hero. I'm ashamed that my country had a chance to make things right at the 2000 Olympics, and instead went out of its way to make things worse.

I wish he was still alive so I could write him a letter.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Last minute Rondon

One of the things that I've learnt to love about Rondon, is that you can do *anything* pretty much last minute :) Which was how my entire Friday panned out.

Bored at work? No worries, hop on the DLR and head to Greenwich for a hog roast roll and coffee in the sun *grin* Ok, it took a little bit more than an hour, but... yeah :P

Looking for something to do on a Friday night? No worries, jump online and book a couple of tickets to "Bill Bailey's Remarkable Guide to the Orchestra" show at the Royal Albert Hall. Very funny. Also, very surprised that Bill Bailey is so
musically talented!

Post-show, now what? No worries, let's jump in a cab and head to a pub *grin* A Guinness with the boys later, we're on the move again.

To the Embassy!

There's a line. There are girls in short mini-dresses and spiky sky-high heels. That's ok, we know someone. No lines for us ;) You know what annoys me though? You get in, and the place is empty. The oriental in me goes, "HTF do you do business? There's a line outside for no reason, and you could be making a lot more at the bar".

Rondon is pretentious. Sometimes, for no reason. It's about networking. Whatever, I head for the dancefloor. I've learnt to make friends with the bartenders :) My new trick, "Make me a cocktail, and make it girly!" *grin* I watch the boys do their majik on the girls. I'm impressed!

3am, let's go! Chinatown it is. Mui choy kau yoke, Chap wee (combination) hor fun, and yat pun siew aap *grin* Not that tasty, but at that time of morning, I'm not expecting much.

Finally, 4am Saturday, I'm in bed.

Ooh, before Bill Bailey, I visited the Serpentine Gallery in Hyde Park. Every year, an artist builds a temporary building. This year it was Frank Gehry. So here tis:

Rondon... I love its spontaneity.

Friday, October 17, 2008

Little fcker

*That* is the one that made me gasp, "HOLY JESUS CHRIST!" when it came out:

That's my pinkie next to it for comparison.

You know what happens when you're in a family of medical people? You get scare tactics when you ask for advice.

Nurse Mum: "I hope you are using proper antibiotic cream, buy hydrogen peroxide dilute it and soak... Well if it gets infected you are in big trouble."

Dr Liew: "I told you to get it looked at. You need to make sure it does not get infected. It can be nasty! End up with an amputated leg – hobbling around a party with an artificial leg is a real bummer. Imagine all the dances you have to give up!"

I started to think that turning up at my 30th birthday party with a missing right toe to show (or not show) for as an achievement would be pretty lame (Get it? Lame? Har har!). So after applying a mysterious brown icky goo gel I bought from an Italian pharmacy, I took a hot bath and decided to have another go at splinter hunting last night.

Imagine my surprise when I suddenly found my right toe skin as pliable as hell! Tweezing and needling became a breeze! I even manage to squirt a splinter out without any needle assistance! I dang well freaked myself out though, "EEEYYYAAAAH!" Things that nasty definitely don't belong in the human body. So by 2am I was rid of em :)

If you ever need sea urchin spines removed, come to me baby. I have the goods. Echinoid gel (turpentine, ichthammol), hydrogen peroxide, cotton buds, needles and tweezers :)

If you're wondering about the icky echinoid goo, the main ingredient ichthammol "prevents the process by which skin cells become hard, thickened and scaly due to the deposition of the protein keratin within them (keratinisation)"...
w00t w00t!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Only me

Out in the ripply aqua waters of Sardinia, I paddled (that's _doggy_ style btw) out for a splash. Thinking I was being cool, I paddled a few metres away from the others to a nearby rock ledge.

"HEY, look at me, I can stand over here... OW!"

A small wave splashes and forces me to step forward.
Me: "***OW OW OW!!!***"

I push off the ledge and examine my throbbing right foot under the crystal waters while trying not to drown.
I have a GAZILLION splinter-like fiends stuck DEEP in my right toe!!!

Bloody sea urchins! >:( Evillest of creatures!!

Later on, with improvised surgery equipment made up of cottonballs, expired hydrogen peroxide, hot water, two pairs of eyebrow tweezers and a needle from the hotel's sewing kit, we begin the extraction process. I start with the splinter which juts out the most. I dig with the needle. Dig and dig and dig.

I grit my teeth.

With one hand I use tweezers to pull back skin away from the splinter. With the other hand I use the needle to push down skin on the opposite side of the splinter - exposing its ugly brown head.

Me: "B, can you try and pull it out please?"

B uses the second pair of tweezers to grip the splinter head and *YANKS*

I feel a sting and a gush of blood, like a bunghole had been unplugged in my toe.
I let out a sigh. The first of many that night, as T, B and I take turns digging into my toe. Each splinter that successfully comes out, no matter how small it is, is a reminder of how something stupid like this could only happen to me on holidays.

Diskies tries to cheer me up, "It could've been worse, at least you didn't sit on it and have it all in your bum!"

I picture T&B joyfully excavating my bum cheeks with needle and tweezers. Now THAT would've been a bonding holiday experience none of us would ever forget :P Grazie Bellas for looking after me :) Sorry for being the holiday retardo!

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Ministry of Shit

I'm sorry, but this remaining "superclub" in Rondon was ass. I'm fact, I invite you to my ass. You'll have a better time. It'll be a lot friendlier that's a guarantee. WTF. It felt like half a step up from Home in Sydnery. I think I'm going to stick to festivals from now on.

Above & Beyond, sorry, I love you but I hated your Ministry audience. As evidenced by the number of random shouts of, "I hate you!" and, "You're annoying!" coming from me at the end of the night :P

Still, thanks to my crew for the effort :) Applause to CH for getting me drunk enough to care less.

Friday, October 10, 2008

fb friend

You're facebook friends with who?!? Whaddya mean I'm still your "bestest facebook friend"? How can that be when you're friends with _him_? Not that I hold a grudge *grin*, but do you know what he's done to me? Stabbed me in the heart he did! That bit I'm over. The bit I'm not, is when he assumed THREE YEARS LATER that the knife was still rusting away in there!! The fatheadedness of it all!


I'll at least reserve the three year mourning period for the heart-of-my-life, thank you very much. Butt Specialist, you better friend-me more than you friend-him :P

I am being hypocritical. For some reason I've always struck up friendships with one particular friend's exes. To my friend's credit though, the break-ups always seemed amicable ;) Well that's my excuse. I'd like to think I'd rip a hole in the guy if he had stabbed her heart too. At the very least, I'm not fb friends with any of them :P

Favela Paintings

Favela paintings was a project I read about ages ago. An art project by Dutch artists (Jeroen Koolhaas and Dre Urhahn) in the favelas of Brasil. They're in Vila Cruzeiro, one of Rio's most notorious areas. Their message is, "About one fifth of Rio's population lives in some 700 favelas. Although many have access to running water and electricity, most lack the basics in healthcare facilities and education. Help the children of Rio's favelas use their creativity to fight social exclusion. Help us make more and bigger paintings." Read their blog. These guys get shot at by the police.

Here's a finished piece :)

Lately, I've been contemplating one "last" tattoo (yes yes, I know I've said it before, at least twice!) to mark the end of a chapter and the start of another. Of course - I want Rob Admiraal. The first choice I had in mind for my koi. No other artist I think, for my last. Imagine my surprise when I did some research on Rob, and came across Favela Paintings again :)

My koi tattooist, was Lina Stigsson, personally recommended by Rob, and they share the same studio :) Sooo, do you see any similarities between...

Rob's fishies:

and my fishie? *big grin*

(or is it just cause I've had some to drink?)

I love it when real life and blogs collide :)

Tuesday, October 07, 2008


Tomato juice mixed with vodka + Jack Daniel's BBQ sauce, mango chutney, cinnamon powder, wor-chest-ses-ter-shire sauce, tobasco, pepper, salt... ANCHOVY SAUCE?

(Ok, forget the anchovy sauce, we're not brave enough to go there)

M-San - You know what we forgot to play the ENTIRE ARVO? "OKONOMIYAKI!!!" :P

Monday, October 06, 2008

Stop it

It's hard for me to deal with people who have a lot, but still complain. About everything. So after 3 glasses of Rioja, I gave it as I saw it. Not that it sunk through.

* I need a career break
Me: "That's your choice. There is nothing stopping you from taking one. You're leaving the country within a year. It's your choice to work the hours you do. As a project manager, your job is to delegate."

* We're not a bodyshop
Me: "You're kidding me. I've worked for a consultancy. Your company will sell people it doesn't have and train them up in 2 weeks."

* I want a family
Me: "Then move back to Oz. You've been telling me you've wanted to do this for the past 2 years."

* My husband's not ambitious enough
Me: "You've been with him for a decade. Half of that, you weren't married to him. You KNEW what he was like a decade ago. You married him for who he was then. He hasn't changed."

* I want money
Me: "Then contract. You've told me you're here for another year. Why not make the most out of it by contracting if you want money? You've already told me you're not staying with the consultancy for a transfer to Oz."

* I want a holiday, last time, it was 7K pounds for both of us to go to Sth America for a month
Me: "I spent 2 months in Sth America. I was fresh out of university. I wasn't working yet. I still did it. So what are you telling me? I'm not saying you have to backpack, but you've got the money. You earn enough. You have a mortgage and you can still afford 7K. It's called flashpacking. You don't take a backpack, you just take a rolly suitcase :P"

* I want career

Please stop. I'm drinking just to deafen myself.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Croque Madame

What do you mean French women don't get fat? Have you _seen_ what they eat for brekky?

That's 3 slices of bread, ladened with ham and cheese (bechamel?), then topped off with a fried egg. I think the French are lying to us about their health :P

Saturday, October 04, 2008

I'm sad

After watching Dark Knight at IMAX, I'm sad that The Joker will never be played by Heath Ledger again :(
True supervillain

Glad I paused Dark Knight on my laptop last night, and decided to watch it at IMAX instead. Even though the only ticket I could get was to the 11:30pm session!! Also got to check out the trailer for The Watchmen on a massive screen. Something else to look forward to :)

Thursday, October 02, 2008

Just like that

Someone today asked me how the project I was working on was going. Before I could stop myself, I puffed out my cheeks, and did sound effects along the lines of, "KA-BOOOOMPH!"

I even did hand gestures to try to get this imagery across:

(Can you see something else in this pic? :) )

In the short space of 2 weeks - 10 working days - everything went from on track to "wtf is the point now?". One person in India fcked up. He didn't bother to tell anyone about the fck up in those 10 days. I think he was scared. In fact, I still don't know how he fcked up! An already aggressive deadline has been pushed out.

So now, what I've been working on since August, looks likely to be canned *sigh*

It's been a funny day. Is my ass on the line? Yes. Even though I've been taking a backseat on this project. Do I care? Yes. Cause I'm not able to deliver. That frustrates the hell out of me. 2 months of effort about to go down the drain. Can I still laugh about it? Sure. Cause, it's soooo typical of working in a big company. *Especially* in Rondon.

There's a lot of finger pointing. There's no hands up and taking responsibility. There's just one person in India saying, "Someone moved teams and I'm new at doing their job" - when it's 10 days too late to do anything about it.

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

Bad influence

I caught up with Anonymous this evening, over Bloody Marytinis and chips. We were talking about the in's and out's of online dating. Then Anonymous said something that made me flinch:

"I hate it when people stop responding!"

I looked guiltily over my vodka, horseradish and tomato concoction, "That's... me..."

Whoops... So, Filmster Date had SMS'd me a few times over the weekend. I had responded once, then thought, "Aaah, can't be bothered". That's me being lazy :P It takes a lot of energy to be witty and charming! I just make it seem soo effortless *grin* I also didn't want to lead Filmster Date on. So I left it. Until tonight.

You're a bad influence, Anonymous :P

I admittedly cringed as I typed out an apology email. Maybe I was reading too much into it. Maybe Filmster Date already hates me and thinks I'm an evil cow. I went for the "Honesty is the best policy" approach.

Me: "Sorry for being so crap with the SMSes... I've been lazy. Reaaally lazy. And to be honest, I didn't want to lead you on. I had a fun night last week, but my heart's not into being more than anything than just friends at the moment. I hope you understand, and I hope you don't think I'm a bitch. Well, not too much of a bitch anyway..."

FD: "laziness, eh? good excuse! well, fair enough, thanks for being honest. i kinda figured you probably weren't up for anything more. but i did really enjoy meeting you and had a great time. not many people make me laugh as much as that! don't think you are a bitch. well not too much anyway haha!"

*Phew* At least I didn't make any enemies :) I'm starting to wish I could outsource all the yucky parts of The Game. What's that saying?
It's all fun and games until someone loses an eyeball?