cups running over

Melbourne Cup day = openly drinking at the desk as the boss walks by.

Did not win office sweepstake. Did eat cupcakes.

Sydney has also given me my first sunburn of summer. In the cleavage again. I swear I lovingly rubbed sunblock on that body part. So lovingly. But alas, I'm now painfully rubbing aloe all over it instead. It's hot in a bad way.

Extreme excitement on the streets of Sydney. Topshop is here! People queued overnight! OMG we can be fashionable!

Given that Ratty and I are exceedingly hip and with it (why, I have flowered trousers) we set off to investigate all four floors of garment heaven. Things I realised quite quickly:

I am not hip and with it
I hate crowds
Shorts that zip up the back do something very odd to one's bottom
Topshop knickers are excellent

It was an exhausting morning and I had to come home and collapse on my bed with a block of chocolate that is now only half the block it used to be.

Also recently arrived in Sydney is summer. 32 degrees on Friday, that slumped to 20 today. Is really very irksome because no matter how warm it is outside, the aircon at work is set to Siberia.

I don't even want another whiskey

I am sick. SICK.

Any port in a storm

Or rather, there's port in a bus stop in Auckland. I know this because I left it there. While waiting for the airport bus. So instead of my dad getting port last night, he got a story about a bottle of port and the no doubt deserving person who will find it. So together we feel charitable. And I don't feel stupid. Not at all.

A sadder shade of lovely

I went out last night wearing my new jacket which I love most dearly (and not just because it was on sale for only a quarter of the original price) because it's a spiffy shade of lovely. Ran into an ex beau who looked at me and said, 'That's an old lady jacket'.

Boldly going somewhere slowly

Yes, it's that time of year again. Time for me to cook something slightly stupid because I'm a stubborn pony. Tonight we shall eventually be tucking into the no meat, no pasta lasagne! I know - fucking delicious is what you're thinking and I'm sure you'll be right. I'll let you know in about another 17 hours because it's taking ages to cook and I started late as well because I was held up at work - actually working.  God, it was terrible.

The mothership came and went. She made me cups of tea and convinced me to purchase a $22 teacup and saucer. It's awfully pretty. Not even slightly sensible. So a great deal like me. But then we tired of her and sent her home. Just in time to encounter that volcano nonsense - only screwed with her flight a little bit.

I managed to complete dry July - feel free to buy me drinks by way of congratulations. Did I lose weight? No. Did chocolate consumption go up? Yes. What about cheese? Through the roof. Did I have the most beastly period of the year? Yes. What does this prove? Booze helps with the bleeding.

Morgan also came through Sydney for at least five hours. Jetsetters - hmmph. She was in time to help me have my first drink in a month. After two I had to go home and have a two-hour nap. Will have to work on tolerance. Have rolled up my sleeves already. Join me! It's the good fight.

Whale tail

I saw a whale's tail. Not the top of a g-string poking out the back of a slapper's low-riding jeans - an actual whale tail in Sydney harbour. First real whale tail! Didn't see the rest of the whale, it was refusing to show us everything, the big flirt. The coastguard blocked it off so stupid people couldn't sail their boaties over it, as stupid boatie people like to do - they are also very fond of sailing directly in the ferry's path.

So, whales are big. Quite big. Bigger than Tim, even.