Rock N Roll Nerd

Day 17. Got this at the Tim Minchin show Tanja took me to last night. The show was amazing. I teared up a little during Rock N Roll Nerd (the bit about a guy writing songs that no one will ever hear), and full-on cried my eyes out during Not Perfect. Youtube it, it's phenomenal. I've already written about how one particular part of the song affects me. But last night, it destroyed me. I was just crushed. I've not cried like that in public, well, ever. I mostly blame Tanja and her propensity for crying at movies.

I had a long and in-depth post in my head about how I feel about my body-image, or whatever, and how I feel I play the clown too much because much of my self-worth is tied up in how people like me, but frankly, it's too depressing.

Today is my birthday. The people who work here got me a card and a present and my boss made me a cake. May also baked me two cakes. This is the first time a work-person, let alone many work people, did anything for my birthday. So I'm in a good mood.

What I done did on my birthday.

1. Woke up. Drank coffee.

2. Schlepped a heapin' helpin' of parcels (like two huge bags full) to the post office to send off to eBay folks.

3. Sat on the sidewalk outside a cafe stealing their free Wifi and twittering.

4. Meeting not one but TWO people from my team on the street, one of which tried to ask me a "quick question" about work. LALALALALA it's my day off! Ask me Monday!

5. Went off to Harris Farm at Broadway to get supplies for Sunday dinner. Contemplated getting fancy rum at Vintage Cellars.

6. Realised that despite a huge revamp and renovation, Broadway Harris Farm is still (despite wider aisles) full of choke points where people pile up and have to wait.

7. Realised that Swiss Brown mushroomns are expensive. Like 3.99 for 200 grams. Tanja's list said 600 grams, but I thought she must not have meant THOSE mushrooms and got regular ones instead (hint: she did want THOSE mushrooms).

8. Stopped in a Vintage cellars on the way back to get my fancy rum (after having, like a wuss, discussed it with Tanja, who said it was okay). Then noticed that the Monty Python's Holy GrAil (tempered over the fires of burning witches), which usually costs between 7 and 10 dollars per 500 mL bottle, was on sale for $2.50 per bottle. So I grab 6 of those and bring them to the counter, along with a $50 Origine Caribbean rum (I told Tanja how much that was later and she went "Oh, I thought you were going to get on of those 80 or 90 dollar ones." Argh!). The guy behind the counter looks at them and says "Listen, mate. I'll tell you what: if you take the lot, I'll give them to you for $1 per bottle." Me: "How many are there?" Him: "Well, two more in that cooler, and then another 9 over there." "So 17." "Yeah. Do you want them?"

9. I make a rash decision.

10. I struggle out of the shop, holding a box with 8.5 litres of beer, plus the two shopping bags. After 5 steps try to flag a cab. No good, all full. I spot one empty, who makes an incredibly expressive gesture that I should go further down the block. I struggle down, take too long, and he leaves. So I call a taxi. And wait. And wait. It's stinking hot. I have no hat, no sunglasses, and dairy products in the bags. It's stressful. I eventually grab a bus that gets me closer to home, and struggle to the house, having to stop twice to rest.

11. Once inside, a realisation occurs: the beer was in the fridge at the shop. I was only able to fit 9 in the fridge. Short-term solution? I drink one. Longer-term solution? I call Craig and Adrian. Adrian can't make it, but Craig's conversation went like so:
"Hi Craig. Due to a confluence of circumstances, I've ended up with 17 bottles of Monty Python's Holy GrAil for $1 per bottle and I can only fit 9 in my fridge."
Craig: "I'm on my way." *click*

Gotta love friends that'll take booze off your hands.

12. Cleaned up.

13. Once Tanja got home, headed to Bentley Bar for tasting degustation menu with matched wines. Wonders. Delights. Almond gazpacho with caviar, something-something berries and an oyster. Squid-ink kingfish with seared scallop and coconut custard. Sesame dumplings (which tasted like peanut butter made from vegetables. but in a good way) with mint, sweet pea and other things. Smoked, deboned, then rolled quail with perfumed fruit. Roast duck breast with... okay, I don't remember, because of all the wine, but it was rich and lovely. Their version of lemon-lime-and-bitters (butterscotch toffee, whipped lemonade froth, and lime gelato, which all together, looked shockingly like a fried egg). More things. And stuff.

14. Got up to leave an realised, whoops, all that wine had gone to both our heads. Stumbled into a cab and home. Nearly fell asleep on the couch.

And now I'm 27.

Birthday thoughts.

I’ve never considered myself hard to buy for, but lately I’ve had two requests for What I Want For My Birthday (both from Mums, oddly enough) and I haven’t had a clue what to say. I’m pretty sorted with movies and TV series, CDs too, and I’ve got 4 newish video games for the PS3 and a bunch of demos, so that’s no good. Books, I’m sorted, apart from back-catalogue Robert Rankin. Comics, I tend to buy myself as I find them. So yeah. Don’t know.

Organising (reposted from The Lucas Letters)

"Dear All and Sundry,

Tanja's birthday has come and gone, with a wonderful dinner at Restaurant Atelier (with a slightly short-tempered chef, but lovely friendly staff and amazing food) and some presents of books, comics, a purple Tiki Mug to call her own, a Japanese teapot, and some other things. She also got the day off on her birthday which, really, should be in the Constitution.

I've been busy making shirts for the huge order that I talked about last post, and I've printed 8 of the 20, and haven't ironed any of them. I figure I'm going to finish them all first, and then show up at work like Santa Claus, passing out gifts. Well, gifts people have paid for, but still.

It's come to my attention that I've gotten a reputation at work for being an organizer. Who would have thought it? When we need someone to take up a collection and get a cake and get everyone to sign a card for Ted's birthday? I'm there. When awards for the quarterly work party need creating, hello, there's me. It's strange. I was never the organizer in Canada. I blame the southern hemisphere mucking with my personality.

Speaking of the work awards night, it's tomorrow, and it's cowboy themed. Happily, I already have three cowboys hats (I'm loaning some out to people), and some toy guns on my desk at work, but I just need to find a vest. Off to the second-hand shop!

-Lucas
PS: Garden continues to explode with life. I think someone put plutonium in the soil when I wasn't looking."

So, yeah.

So I got a birthday parcel from me ma today. I know what you're thinking, my birth was not until the 28th of the month, but me ma seems to have gotten with the postal program after our Christmas-in-early-March-debacle. So I opened it early. Now, Mom has this thing where she likes me to call when I get stuff, so she can hear me open it. I don't get why, but the one time I didn't olbige before caused heartbreak and gnashing of teeth. But I didn't call her today. Because then I'd be busted for opening it early. So I'm going to call her on my birthday. And say i've kept it and am opening it then.
Little white lies, come back to haunt you.... [/Sammy Hagar]

I'm at Ted and Cath's place

...for Cath's birthday. Apparantly she's 27 today. Or something nearby thereabouts. I'm listening to Beatles while Tanja talks business with some guy I don't know. It's getting better...all the time. So much better all the time. I've switched to water to slow myself down, but it's not working. Oh well. Life goes on. It has to. Or else there is death. And not wonderfully sensible Neil Gaiman Death. Decay Death. And that's no fun at all, possums.

"I was happier then, with no mindset..."

(The title has bugger all to do with my mood, it's just a line I like from a song I'm listening to at the moment)

We finally got a new music guy at work. We hired him last week, but he didn't show up for his first few days. It seems my direct boss Worth neglected to call him to tell him when he was supposed to start. Well done, Worth. Dumbass. Oh, and guess what the blighter's name is. Two guesses, but you'll only need one. Lucas. Yes. So now I'm "Lucas B" or in Tanja's case when she calls in, "Lucas from Canada". Just rolls off the tongue.

Oh, and to people in the area, I'm planning a dinner/night at the pub next Saturday (the 1st) for my birthday. Plan at the moment is to meet up here for an early dinner (this has been decreed a wine only event in order to ensure that we actually GET to the pub) and then off to the Rose in Erskineville. Sound good?

As for other birthday stuff, Tanja and I are going to see comedian Charlie Pickering at the @Newtown venue. I've not heard of him before. Does anyone know if he's any good?

Also, if to beleaguer an open-ended paragraph structure, I’ve begun properly reading Robert Rankin, and I’m really getting to enjoy his books (despite not liking “The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse” as I was unfamiliar with his style). Any of our English brethren know of/read him?

This is too much fun:
It's like Buster the Dummy from Mythbusters!

I need a haircut soon. I'm starting to look like an exhibit from The Golden Age of Muttonchops.

Tanja's Birthday Lunch

Tanja's folks picked us up this morning and we barreled down the coast to Shellharbour (as we did last year) and this time, instead of getting individual dishes, we decided to grab the $110.00 seafood platter called the Neptune. Hoo boy.

There was calimari, chips, prawn fritters, crab cakes, scallops kilpatrick, barbequed baby octopus, perch fillets, smoked salmon, king prawns, oysters, salad and fruit, plus a whole crab. I think there was an entire Zoidberg in there. Woop-woop-woop-woop-woop-woop-woop....
Heh. As we were leaving, we saw a couple who had ordered the same thing staring in horror at the mountain of food. Suckers.
Anyway, I was able to avoid my acute passenger vertigo on the way home by, after a piece of cake and a vanilla latte in Berry, sleeping for half of it. I woke up briefly to see Robert barreling round a hairpin turn in a punding thunderstorm and the circuit breakers in my brain decided to put me back to sleep until we got back to Sydney. Thank god.