Team Meeting

As you may or may not know, we had a team meeting at work the other night. It was compulsory but only about 10 people actually showed up (hilarious and also sad because they bought 10-12 pizzas, garlic bread, soft drink... If someone is reading this whom I mentioned my consumption of five slices of pizza to, this is not the pizza to which I am referring. My dad, in fact, ordered in pizza for dinner at home. We buy our pizza from a halfway gourmet (it's not really) place nearby and it is so much better than Dominos. I therefore ditched work pizza in favour of home pizza. And that, my friends, is how I came to eat five slices of pizza on Saturday night. Riveting stuff).

I, obviously, showed up. Because I am both an exemplary employee and an outstanding citizen but also because my shift was from 12-5pm so it's not like I could ditch anyway. Among the other attendees was R, who also worked 12-5pm that day. We had a union lady come in and try to get us to pay $3+ union fee per week. I had North & South flashbacks and suddenly found myself on my feet, screaming about the injustices of the union. I've a family to feed! Wife and kids!

HE WAS A GOOD MAN.

Only a very small handful of people in this world (or at least in this portion of the internet) will know to what I refer. And, even then, they may not as the above is not an exact quote but a paraphrasing of sorts because I can't remember the exact quote.

All of the above regarding jumping to my feet is a lie. I did not. I sat in my seat (the display office chairs from the furniture department. Har har) and fondled my new free pen lovingly. The free pen (from the union lady. The only good thing the union has ever done for me) was exactly my favourite kind of pen. It's a Bic round stick (that's the name from memory...) and it is exquisite.

Anyway, Union Lady talked for a while. I resolutely refused to pay $3 per week because do you know how many soft serves I could buy with that? I don't even want to think about it. Union Lady left then we ate pizza. I, in fact, have lied again as I did have a slice of pizza at work (I thought it would be rude not to) in addition to four slices at home. When eating in public, I tend to dawdle to appear civilized and what have you. I will not go up to the refreshments table until everyone else has. I will choose a single item, sit back down and eat very, very, very slowly.

There I sat, with my slice of pizza, slowly picking off bits of olives and onions and popping them into my mouth as sensually as I could muster (R was within a 3m radius. Must appear as sensual as possible whenever he is in viewing distance). I napkined routinely to avoid any despicable tomato sauce stains on my mouth or general person. Later, as I threw my napkin into the bin, my napkin fatefully did not land in said bin. It bounced off the edge and landed on the ground.

R, being a gentleman, picked it up for me even though it was covered in despicable tomato sauce stains, and placed it in the bin for me. I came.

The team meeting was boring as fuck. Except the end when we were encouraged to voice any grievances or gripes. R was one of the main ones who spoke out. And not in an annoying, just-shut-the-fuck-up-so-we-can-go-home way but in a thoughtful, intelligent way. I came a lot that night (this is obvious an exaggeration for comedic effect. I only came a little).

The meeting soon ended and I went to sign out. R was in the office, also signing out. We were alone. I sidled up to him.
"You didn't have any gripes to say?" he asked.
"No," I said, my buttocks resting on the desk. "I'm only here five hours a week. It doesn't really make a difference to me."
"True," he said.
"But I agreed with what you said!" I quickly added so as to appear like a team player when I am really in it for the money and the now very occasional interactions with R.

He signed off and went to get his stuff from his locker. As I was signing out, he popped his head back in the office and said bye to me. I said bye back. It was very nonchalant.

Out in the car park, I glanced around. It was well dark by then and there were a couple of pockets of my coworkers, mingling before they left for the night. At the far end of the car park, I saw R opening his car door. He happened to glance back at that moment and flashed me his signature hang-ten hand gesture. I waved back and we went on our merry way.

What has this whole very mundane experience taught me? That, no matter what I tell myself or insist upon, I will always like R. As I sat in the team meeting, watching him while he aired his grievances to our manager, I noted his many imperfections. Crooked, horse-like teeth. Acne-scarred skin. Slightly greasy hair (couldn't tell if it was product or not. Probably not a good sign regardless). Despite all of these imperfections, many of which I may have considered a dealbreaker (to be said in a Tina Fey voice or a Big Michelle voice, attempting to imitate Tina Fey) a few years ago, his good humour, intelligence, strength of character and openness to others makes him so unforgettable and a very special person.

When he leaves for Japan, I will undoubtedly have to move on. I will always wonder how he is and what he's doing now. Without Facebook to tie us together for lyf, he will persist as a shard of glass in my memory. To catch the light on sunny days or on rainy, wet ones when you can't quite tell where the light is coming from. I won't be so dramatic as to say my heart is breaking from his imminent departure but I will say that I truly feel sad about this and wish him nothing but good things in life.

J

Ackward

I've been mainlining Awkward for the last few days. I don't know why it's taken me so long to get into it. I particularly like the crazy school therapist who reminds me so much of another comedic actress who I can't quite put my finger on... But I also hate Sadie with this burning passion that makes me want to pee in her mouth (not in a sexual way).

J

I Must, I Must, I Must Increase My...

I must commit to eating better again. I must learn to say no again. To reiterate to myself that that chocolate biscuit/muffin/block/kilogram will taste the same as every other time. To remember that I will have another chance to have a piece of carrot cake so I don't need to hoard now. To stop eating when I'm full and learn to be hungry again.

J

Things I Love About Australia

We shit on bricks all the time. It's time we start focussing on the good. So, in no particular order:

• Ketut and Rhonda 
• The fact that bogans can be some of the nicest people in the world
• People actually make a huge effort when there's an ambo/police car with their sirens on to get out of the way 
• The beach (legit. Never thought I'd ever say that)
• Our minimum wage 
• Decent healthcare and welfare system 
• HECS help
• School uniforms (I would've died by year three if we had to wear our own clothes instead of uniform to school)
• Offspring 
• Chris Hemsworth (I'm proud of you, m'boy)
• Samboy chips 
• 30c softserve (it's one of the few things that we have cheap compared to the US. Seriously, it's like $1+ there)

J

Subacute Endocarditis

I feel incredibly down today and I don't know why. I sometimes wonder if other people feel like this. I don't know if it's mood swings or hormones but I feel like this so regularly that it just doesn't seem right. It's a feeling of emptiness inside or like there's nothing to look forward to. There's no pressing matter that's making me feel this way. I just feel sad, like I'm missing something that was never there.

J

My Jane

My favourite quote from Jane Eyre is this, "Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong. I have as much soul as you and full as much heart."

J

The Jesus of Poo

I am listening to a lecture on haemorrhoids from a couple of weeks ago. Holy crap, I am laughing so hard. The lecturer is fantastic and is talking freely and with a humorous air about how satisfying a solid stool is to pass when the "toilet paper is barely even marked." I really wish I had gone to that lecture now.

This lecture is not just funny but also very educational. Friends, I have some words of wisdom to share with you:

1. Do not physically sit on the toilet until the urge to defecate is irresistible. OR YOU WILL GET HAEMORRHOIDS.

2. Try to get a solid rather than watery/soft/sloppy stool. With soft stools, people tend to spend more time on the toilet straining to empty their bowels completely INCREASING THEIR CHANCE OF GETTING HAEMORRHOIDS.

3. Don't be on your phone or bring reading material into the toilet OR YOU WILL GET HAEMORRHOIDS.

I'm like the fucking Jesus of healthy bowel habits. Spreading these words of wisdom and tidbits on how to remain haemorrhoid free and keep your anus... well, in your anus.

J

Brunchtime and Scenes From Year Two

First on the agenda is to talk about... brunch. I think I've had brunch about two or three times in my entire life and by "brunch" I really mean a late breakfast and by "late breakfast" I really mean second breakfast. Because who can really go out for breakfast at 10am and not eat anything before? Hello, I am starving when I wake up and I usually get up before 7am.

So, why is brunch so fantastic? Like I said, I've only had it less than a handful of times and yet I find it so exquisitely wonderful that I cannot even form words to describe its exquisite wonder. I think it's a combination of things. A likely part of the reason is because most of us (unless we're rich or unemployed) rarely eat brunch. Ain't nobody got time for that. We're at school or work or uni. Brunch is at 11am, a very abnormal eating time. If you were at work and took a lunch break at 11am, your boss and coworkers would probably be very puzzled. Unless you got there at like 5am or are 89 years old.

Another possible reason is brunch food. Have I already talked about this? I feel like I've already talked about this. Brunch food is a combination of breakfast and lunch. Lunch is often a combination of dinner and lighter lunch fare. Which means that brunch is essentially all the three main meals rolled into one. You want breakfast food? There's the pancakes. You want a full seafood dinner? Here's the lemon and tongs, help yourself. There are no limitations with brunch (except the coin). And I'm like a bird, I want to fly away. Brunch is essentially the most freeing, bird-like meal that has ever existed.

Finally, brunch is a social affair. Sure, people go out for breakfast/lunch/dinner with their friends but a lot of people, I would say the majority on most weekdays, do not. But people never go out for brunch alone (never in the history of mankind. I bet you 1000 rupiah). You just don't do it. Brunch is meant for talking things over with old friends or gossiping with chums or catching up with ex-boyfriends (and then having the sex behind the brunch place after... I'd watch that movie) or taking your parents out when they visit you (strange to juxtapose the sex with the ex with taking the ol' parentals out). You can go out for breakfast alone (excuse me, walk past any cafe or Croissant Express if you want to be all pedestrian and shit and you will see numerous, numerous working men and women sipping coffee and eating overpriced scrambled eggs. Eggs are like $3.50 for 12, guys) but why would you want to go out for brunch alone?

You wouldn't.

And so, that ends my ominous (yet highly logical) thoughts on brunchtime. You may notice that the second half of my title refers to my experiences in year two. Writing about brunch has quite frankly tired me out and I am ever so slightly reluctant to continue. And yet, I will persevere. For you.

When I was in primary school, I would walk to school in the morning with my mum and then she would pick me up at the end of the day and drive me home. My tiny, pipsqueak body often required the driving home at the end of the day because I was so exhausted from learning the difference between "can't" and "cunt."

In year two, my auntie and my older cousin came to visit us for a few weeks. On one day, I got out from class and there they were, standing near the gate and waiting for me. Except this gate was not the gate to the car park. This gate was the gate to the oval (where cars do not park). I was so confused but I was also exhausted for some reason.
"Mum?" I said, my big blue eyes looking up at her (I had blue eyes when I was little because I only turned Asian in year four).
"It was such a nice day today that we decided we'd walk you home instead of driving!" she said, all happy like.

I was distraught.

"What?" I said. "Am I being punk'd?" I looked around for the cameras. There were none. I was disappoint.
"No, dear. We're all walking home together. It's good exercise!"
"But... but..." I said. I really wanted to throw a tantrum. Like, really bad. But I was way too well mannered for those shenanigans. "Fine."

So, we walked home. And throughout those 12 minutes that it took us to walk home, every cell in my body burned with a fiery resentment that rivals the fire pits of Modor. I glared at my mother, my auntie, my cousin. I kicked sand, hoping it would fly up into their eyes and blind them for life. I curled my toes up in my little shoes (that's a lie; I've always had massive feet) and begged God for the strength to not push my family members in front of a passing bicycle.

We got home and I went to my room. Very upset. Very devastated, guys. The walk was over but the scars stayed for a long time. It's been well over 10 years since the event and yet I remember it so very well. And I shall never forget.

J

Food Resentment

I had a semi-Friendquest win today. It wasn't even really a Friendquest thing as I wasn't really trying to be friends with this person. I walked with a person in my tute from med campus to main campus. She was meeting a friend on the way and they were going for coffee after that. I had a lovely chat with both girls despite not knowing the girl from my tute almost at all. It felt nice and I felt normal.

I made muffins for my FCP tute tomorrow. Sadly, these muffins are tainted with my resentment for (most of my) tute. The only people who ever bring food are Chloe, Tom, our tutor (Laura) and I. No one else. Ever. Not even on the last day when the tutor explicitly said we could bring in food and have a "class party." I only made muffins because I promised Tom and Chloe I would. I kind of want to just bring in four muffins and none for everyone else.

Yeah, I get pretty bad food resentment. To be honest, I just think it's kind of rude to never bring in anything when others do. It's not that hard; you don't have to make anything. Just buy a pack of Tim Tams or something. It's a gesture.

J

My Favourite Songs (Right Now)

Just right now though, not of all time. As follows and in no particular order:

• The Kooks - "Always Where I Need To Be"
• Paramore - "Part II"
• Florence + The Machine - "Spectrum"
• Florence + The Machine - "Lover to Lover"
• Taylor Swift - "Treacherous"

J