Miss Communication

I’m thinking of changing my name. I got a bit upset at work, well before work more accurately when on Thursday I got a call from my boss. Someone had been complaining about the desks and she also made a comment about the state of the elevators. I admit I don’t do a good job of them but I find that task particularly hard to do. I’ve tried to follow their instructions on how to do it properly but it still ends up all smeared and ugly looking. The phone call really put me off and got me depressed about showing up for work that night. I sent off emails to some of the men in my life. The kind of emails they don’t really want to get. Shit! (Sorry guys).

I thought I would cry or drink on the job and perhaps cut my wrists afterwards but surprisingly it wasn’t that bad a night. It was however rather frustrating. I cleaned all the desks – which I do everyday anyway! And yes some are dusty but when there is crap on them and computers that I can’t shift easily to reach behind then yes there might be some dust around. I do what I can on a time “budget.” Afterwards one of the guys who supervises me came to give them all a ‘detailed’ clean with a chemical I don’t even have access too. We had a little chat and he mentioned how it took him and another guy 9 hours to do all the desks on level Two. So excuse me if I can’t get them all to sparkle on my 3.5 hour shift when I have a shit load of other things to do in the reception, mezzanine AND level One! God the overtime I do for these people and it is still complaint after fucking complaint!

This doubling up of work happened in the elevators that night as well. I nearly screamed, “I’ve done them already!” I don’t know what is more annoying. I was meant to get personal instruction on how to do the evaluators that night but it never happened. Instead when I was looking for my Fast Glass (or spray ‘n’ wipe) I found my two supervisors doing them, with my Fast Glass. That pissed me off. And why the hell didn’t they tell me they were sending in my supervisors to do a detail desk clean? You know, before I go and do it myself. So annoyed! Terry tells me that’s good enough reason to quit. I wish.

I’m not happy that my old cleaning boss hasn’t returned my calls or got back to me with an update on the shift she offered me at my old work site. I’m thinking/hoping I will go visit the site, and hopefully her, on Monday morning. Catch her on her way out. I’ll have to ask in person. I don’t seem able to get through on the phone. I just need to know. Although my hope has crumbled, after all it’s been a week and a half of waiting and not knowing what the hell has happened to her. I was supposedly meant to start on the Tuesday after I accepted her offer of the new shift.

On the bright side – though I still find it a bit dim to be honest - this Friday I managed to do an excellent job of the elevators. I took the advice I was given over the phone and so far it seems to be working. It’s still a bugger of a job though. You get some of the chemical for the steal on the glass and it’s just smudge city. I know that to do it properly is going to take some time. I’ll see how it goes after a few more days of doing it the right way. If I’m ending half an hour later – as I tend to do anyway – I’m going say I want to get paid for it, (for a change). Not being as blunt as that though. If they look at the sign-in book they’ll see how much overtime I do. Yeah....I’m kidding myself aren’t I? They haven’t listened before.

Not very interesting but I needed to vent.

I don’t think I communicate very well here, in chat, email or text. Not based on some of the responses I get; so much for technology making it easier to communicate with people.

Lynx or the Rex(ona) ?

That is, Link oder richtig? Or left or right? Wow my first German joke; a phonetic one. Amy is hilarious in two languages. Well I guess it only works if you speak a little German. My sister was learning it a few years ago. You pick up stuff. I heard someone say it in Berlin down in the subway, I thought “I KNOW what that means!” What a nerd!

I only thought of it because I inadvertently did some Christmas shopping yesterday. I bought some whore red nail polish for when Terry comes to visit. (He asked me to wear some on my toes when he sucks them. That is something I enjoy immensely; much, much, much MORE than sex, though I rarely have experienced it. Besides the fact that I think my feet look shocking I just don’t ask for things in bed. I’ll say it again, sucks to be shy). Damn it if I didn’t already have some red nail polish when I got home.

Well that’s not all I bought. I got sucked into the bargain bins. There were Lynx gift packs and I thought I don’t know what to buy my friends’ husbands and partners. That’ll do. I think it was the “Anti-Hangover” flavour that persuaded me in the end. I instantly knew who that one was for! I almost just got that one then I thought, what about the other men? I don’t usually like to get the same present for a group of people but I just don’t know what to give men. I mean besides a blowjob.

Any males out there with suggestions that are practical, realistic and/or fantasy are more then welcome to post them to me. Keeping in mind I haven’t reached the stage of slutty two timing where blowing a friend’s husband or boyfriend is a viable option.

I’ve Noticed You’re Around (Would You Go to Bed with Me?)

When I went to the shops this morning I saw this posted on a pole. It tickled me immediately but also stirred up memories of Edinburgh Josh. He told me he had noticed me; how beautiful I am; that he wanted to get to know me. I don’t think he offered to take me out to dinner though, (just to be the father of my children and other bullshit, hmm!) and he didn’t give me his mobile number either.

It has me curious. Will she see the poster? If she does would she call? I don’t think I would, but then I wouldn’t believe it was aimed at me anyway. Still I find it exciting and mildly romantic. You see I don’t think I’m terribly romantic. I said that to Josh after he climbed off me. That was after he found out “how deep” he could go. Not deep enough to penetrate this cynical ice maiden. *Evil chuckle at my expense* [Oh come on Amy this isn’t what you wanted to write about].

I did find this oddly sweet. I had to go back and take a photo of it after all and at the time I did want to write something about it. A good old fashioned I’d like to get in your pants romance. You may be able to see it for yourself but the harsh Australian sun has already made some of the writing on the poster fade away. (I hate a sunburnt country). How long do you wait before taking them down and giving up?

It would be nice to think posting a photo of the poster may help this poor lust sick guy out but I already know I don’t get that kind of traffic passing through. I seriously doubt she’s in Arizona. ;-)

Right of Reply

I’ve been blogged about again but this time I didn’t blow my top. (I felt misrepresented last time so I shared that post with a few online friends and the best reply I got was, “But he called you gorgeous.” Yeah, that wasn’t what I was annoyed about. Men!) We got together - a little reluctantly on my part I must admit - and sorted things out. I think we’re closer for it. I think he got a better idea of ME. Not sure what impression I was giving. I never do, being so shy I suppose most people just make assumptions to fill in the gaps.

I do like spending time with him. It doesn’t quite sound like he knows where he stands with me. Okay listen Gaz we ARE friends. I like getting presents for friends and I like having a laugh with them. And there is NO WAY IN HELL I would ever wear that badge. (I told you I was embarrassed buying the bloody things).

It’s so weird to read about yourself. I can’t help thinking, “Is that what you think?” I’m not sure how I come across in that post. At first I thought sweet but now I’m thinking immature, weird and way TOO SHY*. I willingly put my hand up to being shy and a slight nod of consent to being weird. I only say immature because of his comments about the gifts I got him when I was overseas. Well the one that he said was “sweetest” and something his children would get him. It was meant to be funny and express my passion for tackiness.

Maybe it just doesn’t work reading each others blogs, although I do love getting together to talk and drink lattes. I can admit I don’t enjoy reading about Garry pursuing other women. I don’t understand men because from what I can tell they don’t seem to mind reading about when I do it. Could you end up censoring yourself? I know the more people I tell about my blogs the more chance there is that I’ll reconsider some of my words and revelations. I long for a bigger audience, but one made up of strangers.

Anyway back to what I was saying about Garry. We haven’t done anything naughty. So when I think about it I’m surprised he still likes to see me. Now I hope I’m not reading the situation wrong but he has said he’s happy to just be friends, especially if sex ends the relationship. It could because I am so bad and ill at ease during sex that I know we’d both regret it, for our own reasons. Mine mostly being naked ones.

*Perhaps just a prick tease. God how did that happen? I have zero self confidence. The closet I get to flirting is turning bright pink while looking at my hands.

Madness, Sadness and Badness (Not necessarily in that order)

Been caught crying at work again. But it won’t happen again because I intend to resign. At first I was tempted to quit and walk out but I’m not a total bitch. I am however sick to death of being told what I am doing wrong. If I am so bad at my job then for the love of God and Mercy fire me because I can’t take the criticism any more. I am not looking for a compliment. I work and try so hard but if in the end it’s not good enough then fuck it! No more unpaid overtime for something I hate and apparently do wrong anyway. Two weeks notice. I can’t do fairer then that. In my madness (and sadness) I’ve even asked my old cleaning boss if she’s got any work available at the moment. I’d rather do those brutal hours and be cut off from people than carry on doing this job.

Okay, I wrote the above while at work last night. I had to get it out then and there. But it is a new day now and things have happened, although my headache is not completely gone I do feel a bit better.

This morning I turned on my phone to discover I got a response from my old boss. She does have a shift. Yikes! Truly those hours are insane and I know my mum won’t let me do them anyway. I sent her a text saying I was upset when I’d written to her and that I am still at my current job. She called me and asked me what was wrong. I found it a bit hard but I told her some of the things that were upsetting me. You see I really don’t think my bosses are arseholes like people keep telling me and I KNOW I am super sensitive and I already feel embarrassed about this job so I’m extra sensitive to criticism and complaints. It doesn’t help that everything I’m told to do I’m doing already. Hence my earlier comments if I’m no good at the job just fire me, please!

I told my old boss my mum probably wouldn’t let me go back to the 3am shift and to my surprise she told me there is an afternoon shift. It starts at the same time as my current job. It’s more of a roving job she said. Just do what needs to be done. Anyway it’s an extra hour of work a day but is only four days a week. I hate cleaning but to quit outright scares the shit out of me. She said if I wanted to start on Monday she’d deal with my current boss. I feel a bit of a coward admitting that is such a relief. I have talked to my (current) boss about some of the issues, for example cleaning the elevators which I’ve never been able to do properly and find quite stressful, but nothing is ever done about it. I have to stress I don’t think the criticism is as personal as I’m taking it and I totally understand what kind of pressure they are under. It’s always, “ inspections, inspections and we don’t want to lose the contract.” Fair enough, but when all you hear is what you’re doing wrong it gets to you. It’s such mixed messages because they tell you people have complained about this and then when I see people who work in the building and they bother to acknowledge my existence they say I’m doing a good job. So no wonder I went schizoid and broke down last night. Seriously I was that close to walking out. (As my unfortunate Uncle found out. He was the only one to reply to my distress text message and I just went for it. Totally suicidal. I can’t apologise enough to him. Sorry Nick!) And the supervisor who was talking to me, telling me about the lifts, asked if I was all right. I was tempted to scream. Instead I mumbled a yeah, walked off and cried, classic Amy.

So I talked to my mum and she says go for this new afternoon shift. I don’t want to be cleaning (of course), but I feel so much better leaving this job for another one. And Friday off, I’m giddy! LOL. However I feel extremely guilty. Like I’m going behind my current boss’s back. I have talked to her about some of these issues before though. Shit, shit, shit. Then again after last night it should be clear I’m not happy where I am now. Nevertheless I think she (current boss ) knows I work very hard and she did say she didn’t want to lose me when I was cheeky and asked for more time off recently.

I better go. I’ve got off to a slow start today because of my headache and feeling like such an idiot. It was too tempting to stay in bed and pretend I don’t exist. But now I’ve got some of this off my chest I should shower and take more pain killers, fuck the four hour period between pills, I’ll live.

So Now We Know

I’m back in Melbourne as of last night. Today in the mail I got my letter to Joshua. (Damn it). Although I suppose I didn’t really expect him to reply I still really wanted him to read what I had to say. Now I really wish I’d stuck that postcard in his bag. Shit, shit, shit! At least it was me that brought in the mail. I did half dread seeing it on my bed with the rest of my mail when I got home. But it wasn’t there, nor was my tax return. Another shit to that! I’ve got to get over this and I will. However, it will torture me from time to time.

Liar, liar! (I'm tempted to set his pants on fire).

Oh you shouldn't have kissed me and got me so excited
And when you asked me out I really was delighted. --- That's one thing I love about Kirsty MacColl she has lyrics for every occasion.

This post is mostly based on notes I made at the time. Although I've tried to keep it true to the original, hindsight has the nasty habit of creeping in.

Bit of background to start.
I met this guy at my hostel in Edinburgh on Friday October 16 at 2.30ish in the morning. I just thought he was being friendly. No, he was flirting! I'm hopeless at it. Instant embarrassment. I just got up because some of my roomies had come home from a night on the town and woke me up. I thought I might as well get up and use the internet, send my sister an email. That is exactly what I was doing when Josh came up to me and introduced himself. He told me he had noticed me earlier. How beautiful I am, my smile, my dimples. Shut up! Thanks but I don't believe you.

Anyway, he asked me into the kitchen for a coffee or tea. I said okay, reluctantly. So I sat there embarrassed out of my mind chatting with him, though not really sure what to say. Did I say I was sitting in my pyjamas at the time? He offered me his jacket and said, "Who says chivalry is dead?" Vomit! I should have said goodnight then. Anyway, before I knew it he was kissing my neck, that's all it took. We were away.

He asked me almost right away if I had a boyfriend. No. Never. He asked if I'd be his girlfriend. He kept asking me. I eventually said yes. (Yeah right!) It's this aspect, wanting to be in a relationship, that really pisses me off.

Edinburgh Hostel Kitchen October 17th 2009
Holiday romance? Let's call it what it is, holiday fuck. Not that it actually got that far but pretty close in one of the shower cubicles. He broke part of the window's wooden panelling. Of course he mocked/joked I did it. That's so lamely male.

Being licked over a goodly portion of my body felt fan-fucking-tastic! I don't know if the sensation was increased because it had been so long or the fact that it was so out of the blue, but yeah that FELT GOOD. Loved it when he licked my back and bottom. It really had gone too far from the start when he started kissing my neck and touching me in the kitchen, BUT the shower cubicle stuff was way too much. Sure my body was up for it but my guilt riddled, uptight mind was screaming, "Stop, enough!"

October 17th 2009 (Later)
I can't stop thinking about him. I mean we didn't catch up last night so I don't know where we stand. (I lost him when he went off to have "the world's fastest shower." I went for a quick wee. I haven't seen him since. Is he pissed off with me?)

The thing is if it was just a shag - which let's face it, is easier - then why did he say all that other stuff? Do you have a boyfriend? Why not? You're beautiful. Will you be my girlfriend? He asked me that constantly. I may just about die of embarrassment if I do seem him again - regardless of the results, be they good or bad - but I also need to know. Does he want me?

Magazine tips I've read and other girlie stuff I've come across (no not like that!) suggest the intensity of his request for me to be his girlfriend, like 2 minutes after introducing himself, is way too needy. Then again I think I lack romantic instincts; that I'm too much of a thinker. The thought, "You don't even know me," coupled with a long list of my short comings and guilty secrets were running through my mind. And Terry. Almost classic Terry in regards to the intensity. How could it work? We're half a world away. There's phones, e-mailing, letters. He had me at letters! If he really wrote them in this day and age I'd marry him like that! *snapping fingers sound*

He was selling himself as a good catch. Good job, fidelity. Although as if you'd ever tell someone you were going to cheat on them in the future. Promises of that tongue and more every night. He seemed genuinely keen but what is he basing it on? Lust.

We haven't exchanged any contact details. I wish we had. He's got me curious. Damn him!

On the slow train to Inverness October 18th 2009, morning.
Because we didn't spend the night together in my bed "just cuddling", like he begged me to, and because I overheard some unflattering views on him I decided not to slip into his bag a postcard note with my email addresses on it. My last night in Edinburgh and he had been moved to my room. I knew which bag was his. In summary he is a terrible flirt, stretching the truth about his job "There's no way he is in the army" I heard them scoff; loads of girls on the go and in my opinion although they couldn't believe his balls at approaching all these women - anything with tits and a pulse as far as I can see - telling them they are beautiful and other cheesy things, they were a little impressed he could do it so easily. Fucking hell. If he wanted a fuck he could have asked. I was going to steal his CV but I just copied the information and contact details instead. I will e-mail him. Hell hath no fury and all that.

All that lying. It's just unbelievable, for a fuck. Why bother? Yeah. I've been thinking about this since I overheard what a bastard he is. It's the lying that hurts. I hate being a sucker. Overhearing he tells every girl he meets they are "beautiful" and other synonyms hurts a lot too. As always, I didn't actually believe him, or rather agree with him. It's being played. Fed a lo
ine. In a word, used. DON'T TELL ME I'M SPECIAL IF I'M NOT! (That's the third time I've cried. Not fun on a train).　

October 18th 2009, evening in Inverness. The email I sent him:

Do you want to be my boyfriend?

Hello Joshua,

Greetings and thanks for the email address. You shouldn't leave your resume laying around if you're not being honest about yourself.

I've been thinking about you a lot today. I overheard some unpleasant things about you this morning, including how you treated me last night in the kitchen. And thinking about our time together it makes sense. (There's only one profession I can think of that does "business" at that time of night). I just wish I hadn't fallen for it.

I really don't care that you're chasing other girls. I mean fair enough, do what you like, I'm not your girlfriend. Get it while you can, if that's what you want. But why not be honest about it? That's what really shits me about this. If you wanted a fuck why didn't you just say so? Holiday "romance," a fling, whatever you want to call it. As long as you're staying in a hostel I would think a quickie with no strings attached would be bloody easy! Why pretend you want anything else? I would LOVE to know the answer to that. However since I'm giving you a well deserved bollocking I doubt I'll hear back from you.

I'm going to say it again, what really pisses me off is you DID lie to me. What was the point of the girlfriend charade? We could have done it and gone on our merry ways. And all that crap about looking up flights to Melbourne. It's even more embarrassing now.

I thought you were going to keep me company last night, that and warm me up. I guess you got a better offer. Why, why, why did you have to fuck up my last night like that?!?!

It's a shame, I was starting to like you.

A kind word of advice if you do keep fucking around wear a condom. You don't know where I've been or what I've done and vice versa. Happy to stay in touch, just pissed off that you lied.

Seriously Josh, look after yourself and the ladies a bit more. Seeing "how deep you can go" is still pretty risky.

Finally, there is one small thanks. I always wanted to do something naughty like that on holiday.

Bye, Amy 　

October 19th, Inverness. His Birthday - You know how I know that? He told me, I asked him was it really and he showed me his passport, because in his words, "He would never lie to me." Yes ladies and gentlemen. The bastard!!! I also noticed his last name didn't look like it was Walker, that's what he told me the first night after asking for mine. I didn't lie. So folks, there were clues all along. Anyway.

I can't believe it. I sent him that postcard and a letter. His e-mail (above) bounced back (twice). Well I wanted him to know. I'm a bit surprised I said yes to priority/next day guaranteed mail. It's like $8 in "real" money. Fuck! I know, but I still need, well want, him to still be there to get it. (And no doubt ignore it). It may look more urgent and important this way. My name isn't on the front but my address is. I wonder how many Australians he's done already? Grr!

I was thinking (again) maybe those men were just a bit jealous at his ability to chat up girls - he isn't shy that's for sure. Still the amount he does it makes him sound like a shit to me.

Now I just wait and see if I get a response. Even if it's just return to sender.

I know, asking a liar to tell the truth, a bit of a wasted journey really, but I had to try. Damn him! He's still on my mind and driving me crazy. (I told you he was good). Of course without some sort of reply I'll never know if he got my letter. Even return to sender would be something.

I should have known from the start. Too needy; too good to be true. I should have known when he went back to playing his PlayStation in the kitchen after getting a call from his "mum" and left the bedroom. I should have known, and I suppose I did, when he never came back after asking me persistently to share my bed and cuddle. I guess she had a better place to "sleep."

Surely you'd spend what time you could with a woman you know is leaving the next day and yet is a woman you want to be your girlfriend. He always went on about that."Will you be my girlfriend?" You can only resist that sexy Scottish accent so long, you know? I said "Yes" and "I'll try," but it was never convincing. I'm a realist and a cynic. When we talked about kids and my opinions thereof he said I was a cynic. Well d'uh! I told him you don't know anything about me. But really, like Daria Morgendorffer - of Daria fame -I prefer to think of myself as a realist.

Why, oh why, did he bother with me? Shyness gets old and irritating fast. (I speak from VAST experience, perhaps more experience then you'd expect considering I am so damn shy, and irritatingly so). Was it some sick game? Christ! It is going to drive me crazy.

No more! Unless I hear from him, somehow, that's it.

I'll leave the last words to Kirsty:
You should never have kissed me, you tasted of deceit
Your perfume was Adultery but I'm not a piece of meat
So I'll be the one that you couldn't acquireI found out in time you're a serial liar

I’m On My Way

Tonight I leave for London. I can’t wait! I feel like I am going home, not least of all because I’ll be staying with friends who live in our old neighbourhood. They’ve already invited me out on the night I get there. There’s a benefit concert by Leon Rosselson, described by my host as a “prolific national treasure but probably best known for his song The World Turned Upside Down.” I’ll be honest with you readers but I haven't heard of either the song or the man. Still I was so touched to be invited and embraced.

I am a little nervous about the Scotland portion of my trip. It’s the unknown element. I’m terrified by the cost of transport but what can I do? Spend, spend, spend! Now that I know I’ll have a job to come home to I should be able to relax a little; though it’ll be a slow re-build of my finances. Shit! I don’t want to talk or think about this now!

I still need to pack. (Of course I do. Just a joke at my expense). I’m doing it in bits. Trying on clothes and culling them. My sister says I’m going to freeze my arse off there. She just got back and she said it’s already cold. I don’t really have many warm clothes. Fuck, I’m an Australian why would I? I’ll buy something there if I have to. Actually my sister is lending me a warm and fairly waterproof jacket she got over there. That will help. If it’s cold in Soho Square on Kirsty’s birthday I will “dance around like [I] don’t care.”

Oh I’m so pleased I get to go! She was great and in my opinion she was getting better and better. I really enjoy her last album Tropical Brainstorm. Before that I sort of liked songs from here and there or just had compilation CDs. But that album I like almost all the way through. I can’t say that about many albums. She tells a good story that woman. Like her dad Ewan MacColl who I’ve only just started to explore via and thanks to a new friend. He also has a memorial bench in London and I would like to go visit it too.

I’m hoping to see some friends while I’m in London but it’s such a short visit and I’m sure they’re all quite busy so I don’t fancy my chances. Still if it happens that would be great!

More packing now.