Here's a question: When did 'gmail' become popular? Huh? Is this just me? Am I so behind the times that everyone else bailed on hotmail and I didn't notice? When did this happen? Where was I? And don't you dare say probably in the midst of a four-hour Prison Break marathon, because I haven't done one of those in at LEAST two months.
Apart from last Sunday, that is.
But still! Gmail? Really? And here's how I know: every new client that comes into Toni&Guy has to fill out a personal detail questionnaire. I, being the lowly assistant-who-isn't-really-an-assistant-on-account-of-the-fact-that-she's-openly-looking-for-another-job, get the wonderful task of entering all these details into the computer. And I don't wanna make it seem like the kind of loser who stands around counting the number of gmail users VS the number of hotmail users...but lets just say if I had a dollar for every gmail address I've typed, I'd have eight hundred and twenty seven dollars.
Speaking of Toni&Guy...a bunch of us who work there went out on Saturday night to mourn Francesco's leaving. That's right, I said leaving. As in leaving. As in going away. For a while. And while it's true that he'll come back eventually, it's only for like 6 days until he flies on home to Italy; a fact I would be way angrier/more upset about had he not given me his Italian espresso maker as a parting gift. That's not to say I wasn't upset at all, but it's been pretty hard for me to express any kind of emotion since they cancelled Prison Break. Being dead on the inside will do that to you. Still. I'll miss you, Frisky Dingo. And not just because of the free haircuts.
Although that's mostly it.
Speaking of men who'll be missed, let's talk about The Navy Man and his little going away party. Apparently all the men in my life have met and decided that this week it might be amusing to pack up their lives in Sydney and abandon me for four months. And yes, by 'all the men in my life' what I really mean is 'Francesco and The Navy Man'.
But still! Considering I spend 70% of my life at work, 15% in an assortment of coffee shops, 9% in the company of Navy Man himself and the rest of the time in bed, those are all the men in my life. And they're BOTH leaving, in the SAME week? What, did they plan it? It's times like this that I really find myself wishing I was Sabrina The Teenage Witch and harboured the ability to build a date out of playdoh and magic. I also think it'd be quite cool to have a talking cat.
The one positive that comes out of all this though, is that by NM leaving for four months, it gives me a chance to become as much of a Dr Who nerd as he is. Not that I am super-enthusiastic about the sci-fi genre, but I'm already almost comically terrible in the girlfriend department - and while The Navy Man is very good about ignoring this, my lack of Dr Who knowledge is a constant source of disappointment for him. I can tell:
Jacki: So the Doctor changes his face sometimes?
NM: Well...kind of. Yes. Lets just say so, because it's the simplest explanation.
Jacki: So the current Doctor is the one who was in the weeping angels episode?
Jacki: And the Doctor before that was David Tennant?
Jacki: And the Doctor before that was the one with the leather jacket?
NM: (trying not to laugh) Yes.
Jacki: Well I hate the leather-jacket Doctor.
Jacki: I just...because he thinks he can pull off the leather jacket.
Jacki: Which he can't.
Jacki: And he's also old.
Jacki: And old people freak me out.
Jacki: So yeah...that's...that pretty much sums up my reasons for...not...liking him.
THE LONGEST PAUSE YET
NM: I feel really sorry for you.
Well, whatever! I was right. He couldn't pull off that leather jacket, and I don't even feel bad saying it. Although that's mostly because The Navy Man hardly ever reads this blog, and even if he did, I'm pretty sure it's still impossible to punch someone in the face via The Internet. If in 5 years you see me walking down the street with an inexplicable bruise on my face, you'll know what happened. But until then, I feel pretty safe. Nevertheless, I'm seriously toying with the idea of quitting work altogether and just spending the next four months in front of the TV watching Dr Who. Perhaps I will take the occasional break to read about Dr Who, or play with my Dr Who figurines. If they invent a Dr Who cereal, I'm sure I will eat it for breakfast. And by the time Navy Man returns from his adventures at sea, I won't just know everything about Dr Who, I will BE Dr Who.
And then he'll HAVE to agree with me about the leather jacket.