Sunday, October 18, 2009

Not so cutesy but pretty fracking sleepy

It's my own fault. If I will insist on a jetset lifestyle, complete with liquor and hos, and cocktails with live fishies in them, what was I expecting? Of course I'm run down and tired and scratchy with what appears to be a mild dose of adult acne to complete the nastiness. Oh and minus most of my voice. I don't need that. It's a complete waste of time. No one listens to me anyway.

I went to Christchurch. For at least 24.75 hours. I saw a lot of people. I did a lot of talking. A lot of laughing (once again I tried to remember to have a ladylike trill, but I forgot and cackled instead). There was some wine. A trip down memory lane with one of Timmy's KGBs. My teeth hurt a bit from all the sugar after that one. And I left at 11pm because I am old, I was tired and I had a flight to catch the next morning because these days I work on Sundays so I had to be back up here in our nation's beloved capital. I can see my house when I fly into Wellington. That's pretty darn rad.

Ah, yes. Babbling. See, even without a voice I can do this effortlessly. The Chch gang were all good. Appearances were made by people who ought to be in Auckland, Wellington, Melbourne and London, so a good effort on all sides there. There were children, which proves that people have not been letting the grass grow under their feet in the past ten years, since I think the first round of university graduations, but rather have been making hay whilst the sun shines. I am obviously not one of these people, but I kindly allowed Ben and Karen's very charming baby to lick my hands so I could sense what it is like to have one of these 'things'. I did not even try to pick the baby up, mainly because I am sort of possibly flu-ish, but also because I have a fear that I will drop the child. And babies don't bounce.

As far as reunions go, and it is my second one this year, it was pretty ace and I regret that I only see all these people a little more than never or once a year. Fi and I managed cups of tea and cackling/snorting - pick whichever one seems more adult - until 1am and then I had a restless night's sleep, interrupted by Fi's cat. The one that likes to indulge in heavy breathing and walking on boobs.

I got back to Wellington in time for lunch and a flying visit from Bran, who chopped off 6cms of hair, (no one at work noticed) and in return I had Melissa make him crepes. He admired my lack of voice, which does indeed sound like I favour any and all brands of cigarettes, preferably all at once.

Work is mostly good. I managed to misspell siege on Friday night. We were on deadline and I was panicky, but really. Oh Penelope. Just admit you're rubbish. Seige. Siege. Seige. Siege. Don't worry - it didn't make it to print.

I have a workmate who has been at the paper since before I was born. I am at least 15 years younger than all the other subs. Baby. That's me. AND NO ONE PUTS BABY IN THE CORNER. Well, they do. But sometimes I like it that way.

Anyway, this particular reunion made me ponder the past ten years, what others have achieved, and what I have achieved. Let me list these things for you.

Other people sometimes have:
Children
Houses
Pets
Plants they have not neglected and let die
Partners
Assets
Careers
Vegetable gardens
No student loan because they paid it back
No credit card debt because they don't think shoes are a form of religion.

I have:
Shoes, but not nearly enough
An exceptionally lovely vintage full length cream leather jacket that I blew a lot of money on in London and then lost half the buttons off so now I never wear but I think it's an asset of sorts
A broken laptop
A very large student loan
Decent boobs - a natural asset
Credit card debt
A pirate Barbie costume
A lot of books
No plants
Oh, and my looks. They'll never fade, of course.

You might have to reread them a few times but eventually you will see that the lists are slightly different.

I guess a lot of this all comes down to what you want from life and what you consider achievement to be. Different strokes, chaps. And comparing yourself to others, which can be both heartbreaking and exhilarating, is probably not a great idea. Even if it is a great source of entertainment. Reasons why I am glad I am not Amy Winoface and so on.

There are definitely days when I think I have failed miserably at achieving stuff. However, I'm going to go with the rather wanky fact that I'm mostly pretty happy, which I gather not everyone else in the world is (I'm thinking Lindsay Lohan), so I'm going to give me one squillion points just for that. Rad.

5 comments:

Determinist said...

Babies don't bounce?

Penelope said...

It depends a little on what kind of baby you're talking about. If you call your wife baby, she might bounce for you, just a little.

Dan said...

Archers Drinking Dan Likes This

Dan said...

Bishy will trade a career for a Pirate Barbie Costume

Penelope said...

Bishy is going to have to dye her hair but if she hauls herself over to see me I think we can come to some form of agreement.