43 reasons why I am not a bogan

Okay, this blog entry requires a bit of a background.

I'm not quite sure where it started, but for some time I have claimed that I am 43 kinds of awesome. And I have promoted this at any given opportunity, such as the time that I sent my resume to Nathan for a job at his work and slipped in a little PS on my cover letter noting that they should hire me because of these 43 kinds of awesome.

This story then jumps to about a month ago, just before the first State of Origin game. I had been on a few dates with the Accountant, a guy that I met through a friend of a friend. We had been discussing catching up to watch the game, but then I came down with a head cold so sent him an email letting him know that I would be bunking down and staying in to watch the game.

His reply was not quite what I was expecting: Compared to Amanda who although a bit bogan; least she hasn’t got as many head issues and communications are normal

My reply: I don't think you meant to send this to me, did you?

He responded with a gushing email about how he actually meant to email his friend (hi Rach!), whom he had just had lunch with, and said that they were discussing me in comparison to his last girlfriend.

Regardless of the circumstances (him talking about me to others, him comparing me to ex-girlfriends, him being such an effing idiot as to hit reply rather than forward), the Accountant accused me of being a bogan because I like State of Origin.

In response I have come up with a list of 43 reasons why I am not a bogan.

1. I enjoy witty political television dramas
2. I get overly passionate about pate
3. I cook challenging international recipes
4. I live in postcode 4006
5. I set up share portfolios for my nephews
6. I have a penchant for expensive champagne
7. I always use correct spelling and grammar, even in casual or hastily written communications
8. I rave about a documentary series called Seven Wonders of the Industrial World
9. I bought a large flat screen television without the financial assistance of a baby bonus
10. I give cufflinks as gifts
11. I know the 14 different punctuation marks and how to correctly apply them
12. I pay the full balance of my credit card at the end of every month
13. I don't own a tracksuit
14. I don't have a membership to an RSL club
15. I am 28 and don't have four kids
16. I don't argue over the price of a $7 slice of pizza
17. I bought my own apartment at the age of 24
18. I abhor sneakers and jeans
19. I don't watch Home & Away or Neighbours
20. I don't have a Southern Cross tattoo
21. I don't have a t-shirt or sock tan
22. I don't ride a Yamaha Virago
23. I don't have a spoiler on my car, nor do I have mag wheels
24. I use words like "nor"
25. I don't drink beer
26. I have regional preferences when it comes to wine
27. I don't know all the words to Cold Chisel's song "Khe San"
28. I prefer to read non-fiction books, with the exception of Sherlock Holmes
29. I have travelled to (numerous) other countries
30. I have a job as a well-paid 'Strategic Communications Coordinator'
31. I know the difference between red and white wine glasses
32. I have diversified investments
33. I have a gorgeous Marc Jacobs handbag rather than a tacky embellished Guess handbag
34. I was in the First VIII for rowing for two years, and was Captain of Boats
35. I was awarded a scholarship to a private university
36. I own a marble coffee table
37. I have private health insurance
38. I don't buy my cosmetics from the supermarket
39. I don't own any Ed Hardy clothing
40. I bought my car and motorbike outright, without finance
41. I have a French friend, Charlotte
42. I wear neckerchiefs
43. I vote in elections

Feel free to leave comments with further reasons why I am not a bogan!

A promise is a promise

Okay, so I said that I would try and do some more exciting things in an attempt to stop blogging about tubes and trivia. Well, I’ve come through with the goods. A little recap of the last week and a bit…

Friday
After a long week at work there is nothing better than a couple of drinks. And when drinking with work colleagues there is nothing better than knowing your limit and going home before you get stupid. And when going home there is nothing better than stopping in at the Atlas to have a nightcap with your roommates. Just don’t try and steal the glasses, okay? The night ended with Amber, Matt, Spark and I having Wii dance-off in the loungeroom. I’m pretty sure I didn’t win.

Saturday
As a rule of thumb, Saturday’s are for sleeping in, cleaning, washing, and shopping, and this Saturday was no exception. I also got my fringe trimmed - anyone who knows me understands what a process this is. Saturday night Amber, Matt, Spark and I got all dolled up and went to the Sugar Hut for a couple of drinks. The boys kept to those plans, but Amber and I stayed out to the early hours of the morning dancing (moi) and fighting off Irish men (Amber).

Sunday
I was surprised that we managed to get out of the house at all on Sunday. However, Amber and I made our way down to the Spanish restaurant for some late afternoon sangria. The sangria agreed with Amber, not so much with me. The rest of my afternoon was spent napping on the couch, while Amber and the boys returned to the Sugar Hut. I admire their commitment.

Monday
A nothing day, not worthy of more than this sentence.

Tuesday
Another sad loss for the Facthunt team. I’m not quite sure where we are going wrong, though dad is convinced Amber must be having a flat couple of weeks as he thinks she is the only one that answers any questions.

Wednesday
On Wednesday night I went out for some drinks with a boy. We did a pub crawl of Camden Town , Shoreditch, and Nottinghill, via Liverpool Street to check out these cool lights.

Thursday
A truly horrid day. Work was crap, I was crap, Thursday was crap. The only highlight was Katie Price and Peter Andre’s reality television show on Sky. They are my friends on Facebook, did you know that?

Friday
Remember the time that we went to the Bon Jovi concert?! Amby scored some free tickets from a girl at her work, so we organised a girls night out with Charlotte and Mel. I had the gurgly wurglies, but pushed on for the sake of this blog. We got a little lost on our way to Twickenham, so missed the first two-thirds of the gig. Amber kept reminding us – it’s the journey, not the destination! Mel and I stayed on to hear ‘Bad Medicine’, ‘Have a Nice Day’, and ‘Keep the Faith’ before we hightailed it out of there in an attempt to miss the crowds. A great night was capped off with the purchase of a cowboy hat, and the Best. Kebab. Ever. on the way home. Amber and Charlotte’s trip home was a lot more eventful, with missed trains, numerous night buses, near stabbings, and another visit to the Sugar Hut.

Saturday
We had a quiet morning at home before heading out for drinks at Embankment with the boys, and Dom and Jodie. Everyone was on the Queen Mary, a rickety old boat moored on the Thames that has been converted into a bar/restaurant. The sun was warm and the Magners were cool, though the rocking boat gave me a nasty case of vertigo. We were lucky enough to be surrounded by not only a hen’s party, but by a stag do. The groom-to-be cut a dashing figure in denim jeans with a Borat mankini underneath. Some of the guys that we were with were mocking his hairy chest, so Amber felt the need to stick up for this macho specimen. Then Dom’s boyfriend, Amit, layed an offer on the table that couldn’t be refused – if the groom took off the jeans then Amber would lick his chest. Amber, a woman of her word, carried through on the offer – absolutely hilarious! I’ve never been more proud of her. There was a little bit of mischief on the way home, as we were the only one’s on the train carriage, but I don’t think we need to go into detail as my nephews are reading this. The obligatory hamburger on the way home, before we all retired to bed at a rather respectable hour.

Sunday
I woke up early on Sunday morning to phone the fams in Townsville. Oh, and Jackie, I’m still waiting for those photos! Amber and I decided to venture out of South West London, so headed North East to Brick Lane . We had an awesome curry taster plate at The Spice Brick Lane, contender for Best. Curry. Ever! Fuelled up, we hit the Spitalfields indoor markets and had an hour of power shopping. So many bargains, so little time. I bought a scarf, some earrings, a kimono skirt, a beaded bolero jacket, a star shirt, an animal print jumper, a top for Jaala, and the most hideous dress you could ever imagine. Phew! We were in the general vicinity of Shoreditch, so decided to drop by our favourite non-local pub, the Barley Mow, and visit the gang. After a couple of extremely well priced Magners Amber and I made our way back to West Brompton . And as a bit of a pat on the back for getting out and about on a Sunday, we decided to have a jug of sangria on the way home. Such a lovely way to end the weekend really!

Monday
And that brings us to today. A day when I normally make grandioso promises about joining the gym and eating better and going to bed earlier. HA HA HA HA HA!

Longest. Blog. Ever.

Good and bad

Things I like:
Fireworks!
Pimms o'clock
First dates
Ribena poppers
Handbags
Marks & Spencer
Puns
Dresses
San Pellegrino
Eyelash curlers
Baths
Lists
Peppermint tea before bed

Things I don’t like:
Revolving doors
Stupid people
Dogs on trains
Christmas carols
Inconsistant document formatting
Olympia trains at Earls Court
Walking down stairs
People who complain about speed cameras
Waiting
Other people's feet
Midweek hangovers
Losing trivia
Tepid drinks