It’s nearly another year.

Hi.

Baby is almost 12 months old now. Big baby.

We went overseas for 3 months. Big holiday. In Estonia.

Work hasn’t changed much. Marika doesn’t work now though. No one does anymore, in her office at least.

Exercise is non-existent. Baby impacted routine too much. Can’t successfully adjust it without ruining the fun for Marika.

Eyebrows are getting bushier. Ears are getting hairier.

Baby may be blonde and left handed. Maybe.

We really enjoy having a combo slow cooker/pressure cooker. It’s a quality of life improvement.

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Quickly now.

Couch Sunday. Eating leftover Swedish meatballs in brown sauce. Baby sleeping. Rescheduling beach trip until next week.

Netflix and sweat.

Time for leisure

Today feels like one of those days. One of those days where I may end up regurgitating spicy dredgings.

I have nothing to do. The weather is half decent. I woke up early. I did the shit, shower and shave combo, sans shave. Made some tasty buttered “whisky marmalade” toast for breakfast accompanied by a lazy plain black coffee. You know the kind, when you just pour hot water over grinds that have been scooped into the bottom of the mug. Tastes just as good as filtered if you ask me.

coffee

Like this, but not as fancy or dainty – bigger and heartier instead (because I’m a man).

I started dilly-dallying around online, skimming over whatever pointless articles or forum posts or emails or shopping deals my browser could scour up from the blandest corners of the web. I was utterly bored and I knew it.

Well! A wave of motivation began to swell inside me. Partially charged by hunger, partially by greed and partially by the need to do something. Anything.

I decided to have KFC for late brunch.

I don’t know where the sense of urgency for the Colonel’s secret herbs and spices came from. I imagine the cravings I experienced were akin to those a pregnant woman might endure. My mind had wholly absorbed with purpose: eat some chicken.

I headed out, on foot, deluding myself that walking there rather than opting for  the drive-through would swing the pendulum of guilt and gluttony back towards equilibrium. I even consciously sidetracked myself to inspect the local community garden/church/graveyard out of curiosity. It was colourful and creepy. I tried to find more reasons to delay the inevitable return to my journey but alas, there was nothing and no-one else to peek at and judge internally. I had to press onward.

I trudged along the path in front of me, half willing, half reluctant. Why did I allow myself to begin this? Was I that weak? Couldn’t I have just had another slice of toast? Why didn’t I just have serial or at worst, a sausage roll from the service station nearby? Coming to terms with the death grip that my stomach and subconscious had over me was proving to be difficult. My legs were just puppet legs, being pulled along by an unseen force. My tummy grumbled and growled louder than my internal rational monologue could plead, drowning it out.

Up ahead, I saw something. Something big. Something standout. A beacon. A beacon of salvation? Perhaps. It wasn’t the Colonel and his short, black stick figure body, no.

colonelstick

I always used to think that his tie was meant to be his arms and legs.

It was the Happy Science church. Of Sydney? Unfortunately I could not be brought to spiritual happiness, as they had nothing scheduled for that day and were closed. Wretched El Cantare, teasing me and leaving me to suffer. Perhaps, in his universal wisdom, he wanted me to experience physical happiness this time? Would he lead me to a new awareness in the future? Only time will tell.

The cold, hard reality of my situation finally sunk in. I knew there could be no escape, no turning back. Not this time. Perhaps there never was hope? All of my resistance had proven to be futile. My will had broken and I had succumbed to the call. Was this fate after all?

Without thinking, my feet led me towards the electronic doors. They slid open smoothly and perhaps a little too quickly. I didn’t hear them shut behind me once I stepped inside. My senses became dulled. I felt like I was wafting through life, like a cloud or vapour in a soft breeze. Most of my memories from inside this Southern temple are just a blur, a dream.

I didn’t even need to read the entire menu. The Zinger Box stood out as if it solely was adorned in flashing red and green neon lights. My eyes were affixed to it as the cashier took my order. I merely pointed towards it, unable to make an utterance in my near-fugue state. The cashier didn’t even need to look. He knew what it was. I think he said something about “regular”, I don’t know how I reacted.

Within moments I was seated and devouring the most delicious portions of fried chicken I’d ever experienced. The crunch, the spice, the surprising (relative) lack of grease and slime made every bite a moment to savour. I could feel my stomach patting me on the back for delivering this non-nutritional treat. The salt from the fresh chips and the mayonnaise on the burger and the tenderness of the chicken all revitalised my essence. I attacked my serving ravenously, only hesitating to tear at the moist towelette packaging to wipe myself down.

A calm began to fall, draping itself over me like a security blanket. The mist in my head was clearing. I’d stopped eating. I was satiated. I cracked open the can of Pepsi Max that had somehow been there all along and slowly sipped it. I spent a few moments reflecting on what I’d just done. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be that person, but I was scared because I liked it.

The walk home felt uplifting. I saw things I’d never noticed before. It even felt like I was walking faster.

I knew I’d still be bored when I got home. That’s when I bought some beer.

What!?

Yes, two updates within a week.

I can’t even remember the last time I did that. Was it even this decade? Ah, yes, it was. Just. It shouldn’t count either but I guess with my irregular publishing schedule we’ll have to count anything that occurs: It’s too hot and Leaving.

You may be wondering why this blitz of posting? I’m not sure. I guess I kind of exposed the existence of this silly thing the other day to a wider audience (hello) so I feel obliged. I used to make posts regularly when I created this blog (although it was originally a LiveJournal). I can’t remember if it was because I wanted a lot of attention or because I had an audience, or a combination of both. Leaving this page static is just a waste anyway, so I suppose it’s time to pull my finger out.

Speaking of LiveJournal, I actually miss the “mood descriptor”. To be honest though I think I usually used “drunk”. That probably makes sense, since writing is easier after a few drops. Right? I think I heard that somewhere. Works for me at least.

Today is the last day of this fucking soup diet. I am currently heating up brown rice for breakfast. With nothing else. Now that’s how you bring in Easter, folks! I think I’m going to stay up and at the stroke of midnight have some whisky to relax/celebrate/cry into for this past week. I have lost like 3 kilos as of yesterday. I’ll weigh myself later today to see how big a loser I truly am. Undoubtedly I’ll gain it back in a few days from actually eating palatable stuff, but oh well.

So, wedding plans! Hotel booked. Alcohol quandary. How much is enough but how much is too much? We don’t want the place to run dry but we don’t want to have too many leftovers either. I suppose we could just donate them to  fortunate family and friends. Budget starting to look intimidating but we’re adding all the big items so that’s normal. Never mind. May as well enjoy it for all the effort it’ll take!

I really want to go and do something or hang out with people but I’m afraid I won’t be able to do anything enjoyable because of this stupid fucking diet. Fuck you, you ruined my week and my weekend. Might pike it if I get an offer today.

Fucking tomatoes

I have a low tolerance for them at the best of times. Sure, they’re fine as a base for sauce, or diced up on bruschetta or something light like that. 7 days of tomato soup is just a joke, though. Actually, it might be the green capsicum that is making me nauseous. I’m not big on capsicum chunks, like I’m not big on tomato chunks.

Yep. I’m on that kick start diet again. It’s easier than doing P90x, at least. I think. Apart from the boring food. Today was 3 bananas day… and soup.

Not sure how much weight I’ll lose but it can’t hurt. I lost about 10kg last year through exercise, but then gained 5 back along with a distinct loss of muscle in the months after I relapsed into my old habits of basically being inactive and imbibing beer. Thankfully, I’ve been eating relatively well. It’s the lack of balance that catches up to me. Doesn’t liposuction remove fat cells so they don’t grow back? Someone told me that once and I’d like to believe it. A pipe dream.

Now to the important part: No cat yet. Wedding this year. In Estonia. Politics came into play but we have been navigating through it without too much drama. I should probably make a wedding website or something. Too bad I killed my hosting a few years ago. I might just get another one for the sake of it. I like pissing money away on servers and hosting that I barely use. It makes me feel like I’m doing something clever. Maybe one day someone will even notice it.

I guess I don’t promote any of this crap enough. I’m a bit of a negative nancy/quasi privacy nut when it comes to exposing my online life. Not just my online life, actually, but that makes sense to me.

Bonus gossip: I think I actually want 2 cats.

Tomorrow is Thursday but it’s figuratively Friday on the work day calendar. The actual Friday is still on Friday, but it’s Good Friday. So that’s good. The following Tuesday will be Monday but at least Friday will only feel like we’re up to Thursday. I have to start work early tomorrow to cover for absent staff. I should probably go to bed now so that I don’t feel quite so upset for waking up before my natural rhythm. After this, methinks.

It’s actually unusual for me to go to bed the night before the following day. Typically I won’t retire until after midnight. More bad habits? I think I just don’t like “giving up” on the day and want to pretend I’m squeezing the most out of it, even if that means I just end up playing games or watching TV. Wow, this is inspiring.

I’m making a conscious effort (finally) to improve my un-mastery of eesti keeles (and English, evidently). I’m four fourteenths (or was it five?) through my latest instruction book. I can still read the language quite comfortably, at least at the beginner or intermediate level. Conversationally I can’t process the words fast enough to speak, although I can usually follow the context and just nod along.

I could really go for a taco right now. Tacos and whisky.

Learning the process

Greetings.

I’m currently on a training course for work. It’s for the ITIL framework. No, I don’t expect any of you to understand or care what I’m talking about. Anyway, it’s interesting and it means I don’t have to go into my work office all week!

Marika and I went to the Future Music Festival last weekend. It was decent but felt too short and getting there and back was a total nightmare. In the end it was still worth it as we fit to see Die Antwoord again and even New Order, who naturally played Blue Monday! Yay.

I’ve been doing P90x, the workout regime, for the past 5 weeks. I’m not even halfway through it yet but I’m seeing and feeling the benefits. I just wish I could do proper pullups. Actually I just wish I had a place to simply attempt to do them. Our flat is the least accommodating exercise centre.

I bought a Scanpan grill pan and some other cookware last night just before bed. Regular price was about $1200 but I’m getting it all for about $300. Thanks, online shopping.

My Tintin collectors book arrived yesterday, too. Haven’t opened it yet but looking forward to it. The original two comics that I haven’t read are in this volume. Very exciting.

Time to go back to class.

Cornteeth; or, “why does the government not know who I am?”

I can’t submit my income tax return at the moment. Apparently all of the “shared secret” information I have to offer doesn’t match up to the information recorded with the ATO and since I have no previous valid notice of assessment, my identity cannot be verified.

I suppose I’ll just have to call them and hope for the best. Thankfully, Marika’s return was submitted successfully online. One less headache.

The AEC sent me a letter stating that my details had been updated for state elections. Sadly, I can’t get any response from their online system as to whether-or-not I’m currently enrolled for federal elections. I could fill out their paper form and get everything updated, or perhaps I should just ring them, too. Convoluted systems.

Last Monday I bought 8 ears of corn. Now it’s Sunday and there are 4 left, apart from what’s currently stuck between my teeth. I’ve always liked it but I’ve never really bothered preparing and eating it before. Kind of like spinach and sweet potato. Seeing as how it’s a reasonable trade off between taste, ease of use and price, it could become a regular. Now I just need to learn how to cook.

Work is continuing. I’m still managing. I wish I had more interesting things to say, but it’s just work. I don’t think I really want to go into particulars in an online format, anyway.

Our flat is still chilly in the mornings, as is the rest of the country. I can’t wait for the weather to pick up… if it only picks up 5 degrees. Mid 20s and up is too much. I’m not looking forward to receiving our electricity bill. I guess it won’t be too bad as we were only here for 1 month of the quarter. Whatever.

Dad can walk now. He’s hopping around pretty well. The folks came around this afternoon to see our abode. All good. All standard.

Life’s flowing along rapidly for me these days. One minute I’ll be moaning to myself about how depressing Sunday afternoons are, then I’ll be amazed that it’s already 2pm on a Friday. I guess the daily grind hasn’t chewed me up completely. Yet.