Dear Bloggy Bloggerton,
As Adela would say, in her fake Kentucky-Fried southern accent, "Times is hard".
Remember we used to be poor, like back in student days, or back when my international phone bill of love ate up every extra cent I ever could make.
Then, post-Husband/Grad School/NSRjob, we became yuppies. Back in Melbourne we were living large, eating out 3 times per week, never making lunches for work, hitting the bars & clubs. . . drinking like maniacs. . . actually PAYING off debts. Then came the next move, when as with all moves, you become broke again because of relocating costs, but you get an extra part-time job, and you survive. Work a few weekends, get back on the horse, push through, and suck it up for awhile. Hell, you even buy a house in da 'pool! (BTW, does anyone wanna buy the pub across the street from us? Umm, there's a tree inside it. . . ?) But back to yuppiedom anyway. Back to eating out, taking trips, buying whatever the hell you feel like, and going to the cafe for coffee rather than making it yourself. It's a pattern, it's acceptable, and it's just the normal way my life works.
But now THE THING sucks out the very life of us as it is still but a fledgling little baby not quite on its own 2 feet and self-sufficient. OK it doesnt suck the LIFE out of us, but it does suck the fun money out. And that sucks.
Last night was Louise's going-away drinks at The Bodega. You know what we did? (oh man this is sooo bad) We went and played squash first (free!), then came home and made something to eat out of like 3 ingredients that we still had left in the house after not buying groceries for over a month now (amazing what canned tomatoes can do, actually), then we purposely watched an episode of Boston Legal at 10 (free!), which meant we didn't start walking into the city til like, 11pm. Because THAT meant, that we would arrive at 11:15 (3 hours after the rest of 'em got there) so that (1) We could each nurse 2 pints each, which would only cost us €16.00 up until closing time at 2:00, and (2) They'd all be well pissed enough by that stage that they wouldn't realize what we were up to, and that we weren't offering to buy rounds!!!
D'OH!!!
That's what you call some serious dutch shit.
And that is NOT what I'm all about!!
But shit man, this business, paying B's wages, buying a new fax machine because business can't run without it, buying plane tickets for 2 to go check things out in Gabz-city next month, deciding to remodel the bathroom at the most fuckin UNBELIEVABLY wrong time. . . the week the fax breaks down 15,000 miles away... we're basically back to living on one wage until certain invoices get paid and certain things start happening at the damn RIGHT TIME again.
And then guess what? It'll be time to buy plane tickets for xmas. BALLS!!!!
Why does money have to be such a bitch and why has it got ME on it's shitlist?!? HUH?!!??
This blogging stuff is amazing, I mean, it's weird how it seems every time I verbalize all my bitches and moans, I see a silver lining. Like RIGHT NOW, I'm seeing what I just wrote about revampig the pimp pad bathroom, and I'm realizing: man, last night really was fun anyway. Even sober! We got to see someone important acting sleazy, someone else doing shots and trying to speak malaysian, someone else being social for once, and some guy from Kerry flirting with Louise, who looked really good, BTW.... Yeah, and PLUS, I can just go sit my broke ass in the new tub, under the jets, and the pimp lights, with my smokin' hot personal DIY-servant, in the romantic midst of the construction zone that is our ground floor, and fuckin' pull it together and realize it could be a lot damn worse. Like that year in Wyoming when I had to work those 3 jobs at once. . . AND go to school. . . just to survive.
Man why didnt I think of that 10 minutes ago when I started this shit ranting?!?!?
Gawd. Holy God's Balls.
As Adela would say, in her fake Kentucky-Fried southern accent, "Times is hard".
Remember we used to be poor, like back in student days, or back when my international phone bill of love ate up every extra cent I ever could make.
Then, post-Husband/Grad School/NSRjob, we became yuppies. Back in Melbourne we were living large, eating out 3 times per week, never making lunches for work, hitting the bars & clubs. . . drinking like maniacs. . . actually PAYING off debts. Then came the next move, when as with all moves, you become broke again because of relocating costs, but you get an extra part-time job, and you survive. Work a few weekends, get back on the horse, push through, and suck it up for awhile. Hell, you even buy a house in da 'pool! (BTW, does anyone wanna buy the pub across the street from us? Umm, there's a tree inside it. . . ?) But back to yuppiedom anyway. Back to eating out, taking trips, buying whatever the hell you feel like, and going to the cafe for coffee rather than making it yourself. It's a pattern, it's acceptable, and it's just the normal way my life works.
But now THE THING sucks out the very life of us as it is still but a fledgling little baby not quite on its own 2 feet and self-sufficient. OK it doesnt suck the LIFE out of us, but it does suck the fun money out. And that sucks.
Last night was Louise's going-away drinks at The Bodega. You know what we did? (oh man this is sooo bad) We went and played squash first (free!), then came home and made something to eat out of like 3 ingredients that we still had left in the house after not buying groceries for over a month now (amazing what canned tomatoes can do, actually), then we purposely watched an episode of Boston Legal at 10 (free!), which meant we didn't start walking into the city til like, 11pm. Because THAT meant, that we would arrive at 11:15 (3 hours after the rest of 'em got there) so that (1) We could each nurse 2 pints each, which would only cost us €16.00 up until closing time at 2:00, and (2) They'd all be well pissed enough by that stage that they wouldn't realize what we were up to, and that we weren't offering to buy rounds!!!
D'OH!!!
That's what you call some serious dutch shit.
And that is NOT what I'm all about!!
But shit man, this business, paying B's wages, buying a new fax machine because business can't run without it, buying plane tickets for 2 to go check things out in Gabz-city next month, deciding to remodel the bathroom at the most fuckin UNBELIEVABLY wrong time. . . the week the fax breaks down 15,000 miles away... we're basically back to living on one wage until certain invoices get paid and certain things start happening at the damn RIGHT TIME again.
And then guess what? It'll be time to buy plane tickets for xmas. BALLS!!!!
Why does money have to be such a bitch and why has it got ME on it's shitlist?!? HUH?!!??
This blogging stuff is amazing, I mean, it's weird how it seems every time I verbalize all my bitches and moans, I see a silver lining. Like RIGHT NOW, I'm seeing what I just wrote about revampig the pimp pad bathroom, and I'm realizing: man, last night really was fun anyway. Even sober! We got to see someone important acting sleazy, someone else doing shots and trying to speak malaysian, someone else being social for once, and some guy from Kerry flirting with Louise, who looked really good, BTW.... Yeah, and PLUS, I can just go sit my broke ass in the new tub, under the jets, and the pimp lights, with my smokin' hot personal DIY-servant, in the romantic midst of the construction zone that is our ground floor, and fuckin' pull it together and realize it could be a lot damn worse. Like that year in Wyoming when I had to work those 3 jobs at once. . . AND go to school. . . just to survive.
Man why didnt I think of that 10 minutes ago when I started this shit ranting?!?!?
Gawd. Holy God's Balls.
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