Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Hard as Nails?

Why hello there, is this Nails from http://nailpolishblues.blogspot.com/? How are you today?

Pretty crap actually. I'm replying from work [it's a Saturday, it's quiet. I'm bored, and if you're my boss - ha ha I'm so joking]. I just can't say anything good about work - oh wait, yes I can - only three and a half hours to go. Two days off. Oh gods, my life sucks.


Here is what I know about you already, tell me if I'm totally wrongeded. You are quite a lovely young lady who can get crazy mean if beer is not provided to her instantly when she goes out on the town. You like a boy who is single and athletically trim.
You work in Reception possibly with another blogchick called BourbonBird. You write your own blog brilliantly and beautifully, and share all the emotions and feelings about a situation, completely open, but you don't actually go into what the situation is.
Is that close?

Lovely is debateable. I am presently working with someone who thinks I’m completely schiz [she’s a dick so who cares] and who would describe me in other terms had she the wit to do so. Otherwise I’m fabulous, no really.
I must be needing beer cause I’m getting crazy mean as I type. I’m actually not that fussy about my alcohol – depends on mood/cash flow/who’s buying, the usual – I will happily drink wines and high-grade vodka, shots [not tequila, evil evil shite], cocktails…Hmmm I suspect I might have a problem. Whatever it is I do like it to be poured out and waiting for me when I arrive – I have no patience.
Ah, boys, ‘athletically trim’ is a delightful euphemism that I am tempted to steal. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that I have a decided type – though, ironically, I’ve never had any success with said type as [naturally] they can score supermodels. I like tall, dark, geeky types, frequently skinny undernourished types [I’ve just analysed that and I really don’t like how my mind works]. Brains before beauty [or even instead of…], strong of personality – blah blah – that kind of thing. They have to be tall. And smart. Actually, that depends on what you plan to do to them – rather – with them. Tall though. I don’t like men that come up to my boobs or whose eye level is closer to boobs than say MY FACE. Very off-putting.
[You crammed in loads for me to answer I’m exhausted! I have so earned beer.]
Bourbs and I work for a pathology company as phone whores - okay maybe not whores but we sure spend a lot of time stroking egos and getting screwed and yelled at. Or maybe that’s just me – she only works weekends while I’m a full-time slave. Fortunately they can’t see us or some of those doctors wouldn’t flirt quite so much [well they might with Bourbs].
Are we talking about a particular situation or in general? I may have [heaven forbid] to read my own blog to see what you mean. I think I relate some of my feelings, some of the time – when writing there’s always the how much is fact and how much just sounds good thing going on. I can be [can we tell?] quite the drama queen – or so I’ve been told. I guess most of the time I’m more interested in my interpretation than the actual situation. That sounds horrific, doesn’t it? I also suppose that I’m cautious about who reads what I’ve written.


Actually, that was a bit hardcore to start with, do you have a favourite colour?

No. I can’t make up my mind on colours. Most of them a pretty good. [Only a bit hardcore?]


One thing I've been crazy interested in, is that you are totally open with your inner-most thoughts, yet, some people who read your blog are you friends that you hang out with. I've noticed that blogs that have friend-participation are usually pretty light and fun, and blogs
that do actually open up and are very much treated as an online journal tend to be anonymous. I don't think you fit into either category. When you type in a post, do you think about who might read it, or do you just write?

It’s not like my family is reading my blog. I’m very guarded with them, usually, and can be very guarded with my friends too. Not great and not a great way to be. People [true in all cases, for all people] often perceive me differently from how I see myself and [it’s taken me quite a while] I’ve started to think that this is not the best thing. I think I have a fairly good idea of who reads my blog that I know in person. I’ve only given out the address to a handful, if that, of people who know me in the flesh – so to speak. Those who have the address or I know read my blog stand at the extremes of people who have my character pretty well sorted and those who I think ought to know me better. I wonder if that’s a bit of both. It’s always to easy to think you know someone and then be totally surprised when they behave differently to how you expect. Very disappointing for some. Maybe that’s it – I’m sick of people thinking that they’ve got me boxed only to have them say crap like ‘oh that’s so you’ or ‘that’s not what I expected of you’. I do not have the most consistent character in the world. There are contradictions, many. People assume too much from looks [I look safe and stolid, therefore I am] [I look angry, therefore I am] [I look like a ‘teacher’ (what the fuck?) therefore I must have the right temperament…] and they do not like when you step out of the box assigned.
Of course, it could just be that I’m not light and fun…
I do think about who might read this and there have been occasions where I’ve reconsidered something I’ve wanted to say because of that but mostly, hell, it’s all just opinion and perspective and they are so subjective as to barely matter.


How many bloggers do you know? That you've hung out with?
Bourbonbird was the first person I've ever met and that was really only for a few mini-micro seconds in a haze of semi-drunkenness.

I know Bourbs from work and met quite a few bloggers at her birthday [Jerkface, Misha, Muffin, that short guy, that tall guy, that moustached guy – I’m so good with names – I must have walked past you but was too lazy to fight back through the crowds with Bourbs. I also have a nagging suspicion that Mark and I have probably walked past each other rather a lot]. I’ve also met Miss Wired without knowing she was Miss Wired or, indeed, ever having heard of Miss Wired. It was a party, she was drunk, I was drunk, we exchanged email. I’m not sure why. Bourbs knew her blog and we got to discussing blogs and then Bourbs nagged me until I set one up. Which is how I arrived [oh and I’d like to thank the academy]… So ends my personal blogger knowledge.


So chicka, give us a boy sit rep? Pretty please?

Huh? Boy I understand, sit I’m guessing is situation, rep….report? No boy, no sit, no rep. I am a sadarse. If you were asking anything else – try again in granny speak :p


Do you have a path in life that you are following, or are you just bouncing around like the rest of us?

All depends on who you ask. I was supposed to make my parent’s fortune and give them a positively wonderful life. Oops. If you ask my aunt I’m supposed to have a career by now [she’s horribly offended that I haven’t and I lack the drive or ambition of her own children], I don’t, I’ve no idea what I’m doing. I need cash though so I may be inspired to do something else – work wise and study wise. I don’t know what to study though.. So bouncing for now. Mostly I’m just falling over my own feet.


Do you reckon there is a 34% chance of you roadtripping to Melbourne for funness?

Sounds great. If you can find me a car and someone to drive it. I’ve never been to Melbourne.


One of the themes in reading your posts is your potential obsessive nature. Almost everyone I know has obsessions, but each deal with it totally differently. My closest chick friends are crazy obsessive, to the point of being ridiculuously predictable, other friends, it took me a while to find out their obsessions and even now I know, they are totaly subtle. How do you deal?

Potential? My last obsession moved to TUMUT, ostensibly for work [my arse]. I don’t deal, I give in and behave like a complete psychopath [and frequently an arsehole] and then I blame my parents for my being insane. I give in on the minor ones too, usually, if they last. If they’re too pathetic I can stop myself. Almost.


When do you write your blog? At work, at home? Bored, excited, drunk?

I don’t post [I comment though, so go figure] from work because I’m paranoid that I’ll get sacked. I blog when inspired [or not]. I don’t really have a plan for my blog so all kinds of crap goes in – that was a bit obvious right?


Thank you so much for this interview. I'm sure you can tell that I love your blog totally, it captivates and intrigues me and sometimes makes my brain hurt with thinkingness. I love it. Do you have any words to leave us with?
*blush*

I’m too flattered [and buggered, this has taken me two hours] to offer any further commentary.

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At 10:08 PM, Blogger Adam said...

Muffin, you an awesome and bizarre life. I love it!


Goddammit, I'm killing anonymous posting, I hate these guys. Freakin.

 
At 5:52 PM, Blogger Shelley said...

Old men are the worst. One was annoying me yesterday because I was carrying flowers - like what I'm carrying is your business and you need to comment on it.
People don't annoy me too much anymore beacuse I've mastered the 'I've got an ice pick in my hand that will go, sharp end first, into your eye if you piss me off'. Works well :)

 
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