Dude Acts Like A Lady

There is little in life that I find more amusing than my Fiance's feminine tendencies:

Me: Hey, want to watch a movie?
Fiance: Let's watch Pitch Perfect again!!

Me: Who's your biggest celebrity crush?
Fiance: I don't know.  It's so hard to choose between Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron.

Fiance: Hey can you buy yourself some satin underwear?
Me: I guess.  Why, do you find them sexy?
Fiance: ...So I can try on a pair.

Fiance: Do you think I should get highlights?

Thankfully, he knows how to combat it:

Me: Do you ever wonder about like...the fact that you're in love with more male celebrities than female, or how obsessed you are with your own hair, or that time you asked me to buy satin panties so you could wear them yourself?
(Pause)
Fiance: Wanna go have sex?

Speaking of Fiance and I and the ways in which we ostracize ourselves from regular society, last Tuesday when Fiance woke up at 3:45 in the morning and went outside to have a cigarette, he happened to see two people stealing mail out of our apartment building letterbox.
...
For me, this is probably the 8th weirdest thing that has happened since I moved in here.  Really, Coogee?  Who gets up to steal mail from people at 4 in the morning?  And what is the ratio of profitable letters to letters full of crap anyway?  Probably one in six thousand?  It is if you're stealing from my mailbox!  There are much easier ways to make money.  And whatever happened to common courtesy?  When I lived in Lane Cove people never stole from each others' mailboxes.  We just parked in each others car spots and tried to get each other evicted.  Much more civilized.  
Anyway, the thieves at our apartment.  A regular couple might have, what, called the police?  Tried to get a good look at them for a courtroom description?  All I know is that the first thing Fiance did was rush into our bedroom and wake me up:

Fiance: Hey
Me: (Sleepily) Huh?
Fiance: Wanna go mess with people's lives?

Cut to the two of us, 4:30 in the morning, cruising around the streets of Coogee at 15km/h looking for these two dirtbags.  And the weirdest part is, it was totally exciting!  For the first 20 minutes.  And then I developed an insane case of paranoia:

Me: What was that?
Fiance: What?
Me: I saw the guy!
Fiance: No you didn't.
Me: Yes I did!  Look!  LOOK, THERE HE IS!!
Fiance: Okay first, don't yell, you'll give away our position.  Second, that is an 80-year-old woman.

Me: What are you going to say?
Fiance: What do you mean?
Me: I mean if you catch them!  What are you going to say?
Fiance: I don't know.  Um.  "Please stop doing that"?
Me: WHAT!?  You can't say THAT!!  What if they have a gun!
Fiance: They don't have a gun.
Me: YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!!
Fiance: Yes I do.  I saw them at our apartment and they didn't have a gun.  They didn't have room to hide one anyway.
Me: Okay...well what if they have a baseball bat?
Fiance:  They don't have room to hide a gun, but a baseball bat?  Sure.

Oh, and here's where I realised that Fiance had brought along the metal poles from our portable clothes line for 'protection':

Me: What are those?
Fiance: What are what?
Me: The poles from the clothes line.
Fiance: Yes, that's what they are.
Me: Why are they in the car?
Fiance: Just in case.
Me: Just in case of what?
Fiance: Just in case things get hostile.
Me: Hostile?
Fiance: Yeah.
Me: And do you think things might get hostile?
Fiance: I don't know.  Maybe?
Me:  WELL THEN WHY WOULD YOU BRING ME???

In the end I just kept making comments about the guy jumping out from nowhere and beating me to death through the car window until Fiance brought me home.  We never caught the mailbox thieves, unfortunately.  But I am thinking about installing a motion-sensor mailbox camera.  Or some sort of bomb.  I'm still throwing ideas around.

An Old Blog I Never Posted

Fiance is sick today, so we spent most of the morning in bed watching old Michael Jordan videos on YouTube.  Ah, the married life.  Anyway.  Fiance is hugely into the NBA while I never so much as played a game of basketball, so at first I was kind of worried that I'd come of as a complete novice and inadvertently ruin my own marriage.  Luckily I was able to get by on what sparse knowledge I gained from watching Space Jam about 80 times when I was nine.  I don't think Fiance even noticed.

Me: What team did Michael Jordan play for?
Fiance: The Bulls.
Me: Oh, so Chicago?
Fiance: Yeah.

Fiance:  Look at where he took that dunk from!  Did you see that?
Me: The free-throw line, right?
Fiance: Yeah!

Fiance: Charles Barkley is so funny.
Me: Man he must be so old by now.
Fiance: Yeah, pretty old.
Me: And isn't he really short?
Fiance: Totally!

Speaking of basketball and the fact that I know almost nothing about it, holy shit it just occurred to me that American soul duo Gnarles Barkley may have taken their name from Charles Barkley.  Is this a thing?  Did no one tell me?  It's either that, coincidental, or they are all actually brothers with really sadistic parents.  I gotta ask Google.

Yes!  I was right!  According to Wikipedia:
Danger Mouse explains that the name Gnarls Barkley came from "fictional celebrity names like Prince Gnarls and Bob Gnarley" (parodies of Prince Charles and Bob Marley, respectively) made up by their friends. When Heavens band member Josiah Steinbrick came up with "Gnarls Barkley", a parody of basketball star Charles Barkley's name, Burton wrote it down. In fact earlier in their career, various radio DJs incorrectly attributed their songs to the basketball star instead of the band.


They will make an NBA fanatic out of me yet.  'They' here meaning 'Fiance and Bugs Bunny.  Michael Jordan to assist.'

Atomic Wedgie

So I have this giant mosquito bite on my ass cheek right now.
'Ass cheek' is probably generous.  It's pretty much right on the anus.  Oh my god have we talked about how much of a lady I am?  Sorry, Mum.  
You know what's really awesome about having a giant mozzie bite on your butt?  Nothing.  There are no redeeming qualities whatsoever.  It's not cute, it hurts to sit down, and every time I try to itch it looks like I'm plucking the world's most atomic wedgie.

Anyway I can't sleep right now.  It's 3:27 am.  I don't think this has anything to do with the giant ass bite, but you never know.  Anything is possible in this day and age, and I caught a glimpse of this thing with a tiny mirror I found in my handbag - don't ask me what position I had to contort myself into to make that possible - but it seriously looks large enough to power a small African country.  What if that energy is being subtly rerouted to my brain and keeping me awake?  
On the other hand, it might be the copious amounts of caffeine I consumed earlier today.  I drink a lot of coffee and guarana.  Hmmm.  Nah.  Pretty sure it's the bite.

To me, the best part about having a Fiance is having someone to look at the giant mosquito bite near my anus.  I mean, what if I hadn't found that tiny mirror in my bag/done gymnastics in high school?  The bite may have remained a mystery forever!  I suppose I could have paid a doctor to look at it for me, but I am always weary of letting doctors near my ass since I heard they sometimes stick thermometers up there.  Okay, I actually heard that about a vet.  And it wasn't a human ass, it was my cat.  I think probably this is a practice you rarely see in humans, but you can never be too safe I say.  Have I really been talking about my anus for the last two paragraphs?   This blog is really going down the toilet.

In other news, Christmas is just around the corner and I finally finished all my shopping today.  Did I get you a present?  I don't know, it depends who you are.  The safe answer to assume would be 'no'.  I am 22, broke, and trying to save for a wedding.  If you have a problem with this, I invite you to suck on it.  If you are lucky, next year you will receive the gift of attending my wedding.  I think this is pretty legit because we are paying for everyone's booze.  And like I always say, nothing celebrates the birth of Jesus like alcohol and   the matrimony of two idiots living in sin.

The End Of The World As We Know It

I like to think that anyone who knows me well thinks that I'm pretty nice.  A total loon, maybe, but pretty nice.  I try my hardest to be a good girl.  I don't trip people in the street.  If I make fun of you, I'm probably joking.  I would never steal, cheat or lie (unless we're playing a game of Monopoly in which case you should definitely expect it).  And one thing I pride myself on never subjecting another person to, is rubbing it in their face when I am right and they are wrong.  Like, saying 'I told you so.'  I wouldn't pull that crap on anyone.  Ever.  Never.

Except for today.

...
Wait.  So it wasn't John Cusack who made an apocalyptic prediction three thousand years ago?  Huh.

I'm kidding of course.  I can be dumb, but secondary education and the invention of Wikipedia means there's no way I could be that dumb.  I just didn't want to run the risk of telling the Mayans to 'suck it', in the unlikely event that one of them read it and have me arrested for a hate crime.

Fuck you Mayans.

I believe that when the world does end, it will be one of six ways:  Hurricane, tidal wave, bushfire, super-tornado, zombie apocalypse, or some combination thereof.   
Lucky for me, living in a 2-bedroom apartment on the top story of a building in Coogee means that if/when the world does end, I won't have to worry about it:
Hurricane: Hurricane, schmurricane.  Point one, I'm pretty sure there are no records of any hurricane ever having taken place in Coogee.  Really think the end of the world would change that?  Doubt it.
Tidal Wave: You might think practically living on the beach would make this one the biggest threat of all.  Well, you would think wrong, idiot.  Coogee, while not the number one surfing capital of Sydney, has got to be at least top five.  I may not know how to surf now, but I'm 100% confident that should the occasion arise, my Coogee-genes would totally kick in and allow me to drop in on a 100ft monster.  100ft monster, is that right?  I'm not even sure if 'drop in' is a legitimate surfing term.  But it doesn't matter.  Because I live in Coogee.
Bushfire: I live near the water, I am immune to fire.  Duh.
Super-Tornado:  First of all - as far as I'm concerned, the only difference between 'Hurricane' and 'Super Tornado' are those crazy windy super twisty tubes that come down from the sky like in The Day After Tomorrow.  Second of all - as if that doesn't look like the funnest roller-coaster of all time.  Except you don't have to wear seatbelts.
Zombie Apocalypse:  This is probably the easiest.  Since Fiance bought a Playstation 3 and I bought Black Ops II, the two of us have been playing so much survival in Zombie Mode together that I'm honestly confident I could single-handledly save the world.  I mean, Fiance could be there and all.  But I could probably do it on my own.  Actually, I would probably prefer to do it solo.  There is no bigger confidence booster than single-handedly saving the world.  Plus everyone knows it means never having to pay for your own drinks again.

Booyah.

I Married A Laptop

So in other exciting news, I am now the owner of a brand new Sony Vaio E Series laptop.

Internal Memory: 4GB
Colour: Pink
Necessity: None
Fabulousness: Infinite

And before you say anything, I know what you're thinking.  A new laptop?  Jacki?  Jacki Trew?  Is this really the best idea?  Do I really not recall how many laptops/desktops/hard drives/portable hard drives/hair straighteners/hair curlers/DVD players/iPods/iPhones/Other mobile phones/Foxtel Box Tops/USBs/household pet microchips etc I have destroyed in the past?

Yes, I remember.  Thank you.  And at the same time, fuck off.  Here is my theory:
I have screwed up a lot of technology in the past.  Laptops and desktops, inevitable.  Hair straighteners, unfortunate.  Household pet microchips, regrettable.  But while it's easy to just write me off as a part-alien destroyer of electronics, sent here from the future to end planet Earth one iPhone at a time...you should know that there are some fancy gadgets I haven't yet ruined - and the ones that still survive all have something in common.  They have all been gifts from Fiance.
My iPad?  A gift from Fiance.
My DJ-Standard headphones?  A gift from Fiance.
My iPhone?  Well...technically not a gift from Fiance.  But when the home button broke and Siri kept activating every 6.5 seconds, it was Fiance who took it to the Apple store for replacement.
And the brand new Sony Vaio E Series laptop?  A gift from Fiance.

So I am convinced.  Never mind that the main basis of this theory is that Fiance will leave me to become a crazy lonesome cat woman forever should I ruin my new computer.  I AM CONVINCED.

We're The Shit

For two 22-year-olds who consider themselves mature enough to get married, my fiance and I sure talk about poo a lot.

A lot.

And alright, technically Fiance is 23.  But still.  Emotionally I'm still 18, so I think that gives us a median age of 22.  Here is an excerpt from a conversation we had three days ago:

Fiance: Should we go to bed?

Me: Yeah, bed.

Fiance: Okay.

(2 minutes later)

Fiance: You comfortable?

Me: ...Yeah.

Fiance: Are you?

Me: Yeah, but my tummy kind of hurts.

Fiance: What kind of hurt?

Me: Well I don't want to go to sleep right away coz I'm kind of worried I'm gonna poo the bed.

Fiance: Hahaha.

Me: Don't laugh. I'm seriously concerned.

Fiance: ...Well now so am I!

For the record, I didn't poo the bed.  But I definitely think it is time to stop drinking Red Bulls after 7pm.

For me, the best thing about being in a committed (re: engaged) relationship is the love.  Love is amazing.  But the second thing for sure, is the access I now have to men's underwear.  Oh, my god.  I have never experienced anything so comfortable in my life.  I live in men's underwear.  It's like wearing pajama pants all the time - except you don't have to wear undies underneath.  I can finally feel the wind on my privates, and isn't that every girls dream?  I say it is.  Hello?  I'm a girl.  And I remember being young:

Santa:  Alright little girl, and what would you like for Christmas?

Me:  Well I don't know Santa..

Santa: Oh come on.  There must be something.

Me: Okay. Is there any way I can get the general support of a Kaiser Brazilian-cut brief without the feeling that my underwear is going up my butt?

Santa:...Yes.  Yes there is.

It's weird.  Honestly though, I feel like the only people who really don't appreciate the freedom with which Fiance and I discuss our bowel movements are Nicole (our roommate) and my parents:

Me: Did I tell you, Jordan made Mexican food the other night.

Mum: Wow.

Me: It was really awesome.

Dad: Sounds good.

Me: Yeah it was.  Except we both totally got diarrhea afterwards. 

The couple that shits together sticks together.  

I'm back.

So, oh my god.

First of all, sorry for not blogging.  Second of all, sorry for assuming that people care enough about me to notice that I'm not blogging.

Still.

There's a few things:

1) New job.
That's right.  After 2 years, 2 months, 1 day and what felt like about 11 hours, I was done.  No more Toni&Guy.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't absolutely devastated to leave my beloved co-workers and (more importantly) staff discount behind...but not having to wash old people's hair anymore?
I was fucking pumped.  One booze-fueled leaving party and lazy-ass Sunday later, I was on my way to my new job, as a campaigns development assistant at Buyinvite Australia.  The job title makes no sense, but I can break it down by saying that Buyinvite is an online shopping club, and my role was to upload all sale info - photo, product details, pricing, inventory etc.  It was exactly as much fun as it sounds like: none.
Luckily, about 2 months into that job, Buyinvite merged with another online shopping club (which you may have heard of) called Ozsale.  Combined, we're the number 1 retail company in the country...I think.  Probably?  Look, I don't really give a shit if the stuff I say on my blog is 100% accurate or not.  Ozsale does well for itself.  End of story.  After merging with Ozsale, I my job title was altered to 'Merchandising Assistant', and I was specifically assigned to the children's category.

HELLO, IRONY.

On the minus side, you probably couldn't find someone who relates less to people under the age of 16 than me.  On the plus side though  - I GET TO PLAY WITH TOYS ALL DAY!!
Also on the plus side, I guess the childrenswear buyer from Ozsale liked the look of me, coz after a few weeks of MA-ing for Buyinvite, I was invited to interview for the Assistant Buyer role at Ozsale.
And I got it.

2) New house.
Finally - FINALLY - I got off the north shore.  No longer work there, no longer live there.  As an AB for Ozsale I'm based in the head office at Brookevale.  And since Alex and Richie became totally loved up and have moved in together, I'm now living with Boyfriend at a kick-ass apartment in Coogee.  Which kind of leads me to my next point...

3) Boyfriend = Fiance.
Did I not mention this earlier?
I'm getting married.

More coming soon (I actually promise I'm back this time)
xx Jacki