Jo’s Blog

Underwear

Women tend to have 3 sets of underwear.

Set 1 - When said woman is single. Which tend to be of the grey and of the very comfortable variety. Because let’s face it. If no one is going to see you naked, there sure as hell won’t be anyone seeing you in your underwear. And do you really want to bother?

Set 2 - When said woman is seeing someone new or there’s a chance that she will be getting laid. This is underwear that’s black (red for the adventurous) AND lacy. Also note that the bras will have to be unpadded. We all know why, do I need to elaborate? And thongs, thongs and more thongs. Or G-strings. Whatever. Which makes me think. You are out on a first date with a guy you hardly know (with the chance that you might get laid later on) and wearing rather skimpy dress. Where you feel will slip off any minute and expose unflaterring bits. Do you really need the added discomfort of some piece of cloth wedged between your ass cheeks? And at the same time trying to look sexy, carry on conversation with a stranger and checking for food stuck on teeth.

Set 3 - When said woman is in a relationship.Hurrah! Not really. Your underwear can be anything. In fact, if you don’t wear any, it doesn’t matter. Beacuse he’s not going to look anyway. He’s seen it all. Can’t be arsed. Any nice underwear you buy now is really for your own sake. Seriously, he doesn’t care. He much prefers you naked. Period.

Men on the other hand, are less complicated. They only have 2 sets.

Set 1 - When he’s single. Anything goes. He really can’t be bothered. If you check, his underwear probably dates back to the year 2000, which was the last time he had a serious relationship. Not good for uncle Dick and the twins. As he was about 50 pounds lighter then. Sometimes, one does worry for the twins. Uncle Dick, not so much. we all know how much tlc Uncle Dick rceives.

Set 2 - When he’s in a relationship. His girlfriend buys him underwear. And he still can’t be bothered. Because none of his friends are going to see him in matching undies. But at least they fit.

VIPs

Can be Very-Important-People or…

White rabbit’s favourite….

Very-Incredible-Penis.

Unfortunately NOT vouched by his girlfriend.

Chocolate

White chocolate is nice but nothing beats smooth dark chocolate with a bitter edge. If you catch my drift.

Strange but there’s no yellow chocolate. I think there should be.

Definitely leaving at 5.30pm today. It’s Friday after all. In old company I was friends with Polish evening cleaner. In new company I am now friends with Indian night security guard. These strange friendships must must stop.

I’m glad it’s Friday. It’s been rather difficult trying to adjust to new job while feeling homesick (i.e. feeling like fuck) at the same time. As Mr. Trader has described, an EMOTIONAL FRUIT BASKETCASE. This is why I’m generally so discouraging when people talk about studying/working overseas. The homesickness. But one gets used to it. After a while. With a little (A LOT really) of help from my friends. Mr. Trader has said that I owe him a lifetime’s worth of middle of the night/anytime of the day phone calls.

And pet is leaving tomorrow. *sniff sniff* Which means that I will have to sleep alone after nearly 6 weeks of having someone to sleep with (pet and my mum lah). Maybe I should see if Mr. Housemate is willing to be the warm body next to me. Now that would open a nice can of worms wouldn’t it? But it’s not him I want next to me. He knows who he is. I think.

But all in all. It’s Friday. (Woohoo!) And I’ve got a school disco theme thing to go to tomorrow night. Which should be fun. We’ll see what adventures all the inebriation will bring. I’ll be dressed like a school boy so there should NOT be any embarassing situations.

I am getting old…..old old old…..

…my friends and I will always proudly exclaim that we are Young, Single and Free.

10 years on….well we are not so young anymore. We might be young to a 37 year old person. But definitely NOT young to a 17 year old. In fact 27 feels very old to me.

And single? I think most of my friends are in various stages of single. Including yours truly. Am I really in a relationship? Do I have a boyfriend? I miss him though.

And free? That’s definitely out of the question. There’s bills to pay, a house to take care of, laundry to be done not to mention a job to hold on to. No more daddykins to fall back on.

Well at least Chelsea beat those feckers Liverpool yesterday night. Now if only they can beat Manchester United in 2 weeks time. C’mon Chelsea.

Right back to work. So much for finishing early to eat dinner with pet. Late as usual….A sign of things to come?

I think I am a human magnet for embarassing situations.

Embarassing situations tend to gravitate towards me.

Why me? WHY ME? WHY ME?

For example, I will be heading a small project in new company next week. Therefore had to meet the partner to brief me on the project. Said partner is a very busy man. The only time he could see me was at 6pm (when I am all packed to go home). Nevermind.

Got a bit lost trying to find the partner’s room in new company’s building. But found it eventually. Was 5 minutes late. Nevermind about that.

Imagine the shock I got when I walked into the room to find Dermot Mulroney lookalike. HHhhoooootttt…..

Yes said partner looks like Dermot Mulroney. In fact he smells like Dermot. I don’t know what Dermot smells like but if he had a smell he’d smell like that.

He is only 35 years old. Nice. And on inspection no rings on any of his fingers. Nicer. Only drawback is that he is American.

So yes. Jo was a very very red shade of red for a while. Being in such close proximity with him.

And as I placed my bag on the table all of bag’s contents fell out. Including several tampons. Extra strength mind you. As awaiting a very late period. How convenient. And being the gentleman that he is, said partner had to help me collect my bag’s contents. How very nice.

If I was an animal I would be an Ostrich. So I can dig a hole and hide my head in. In fact, I’d like to be any animal that can dig a hole and hide (die of embarassment) in.

What next? Bring it on!

Right.

Instead of preparing a covenant table for a financial assistance deal, I have spent the whole morning (!) watching the new Aero ad featuring the delicious… Jason Lewis… on YouTube. I am obsessed.

Turned red (think tomato red) when I saw the ad on TV yesterday. And suddenly, do not feel blue anymore. In fact, feeling kinda hot, red hot. Heh heh.

Can you blame me? This perfect specimen of a man. If only we can have a little hair on him - I suspect he shaves. I’ll probably get disciplined for this (Oooohh…) but I’m going to look for naked pictures of him.

Yes I have a fetish. I like hairy men. Obviously not TOO hairy. I’d like to see some skin once in a while.

Although hairy backs/behinds are somewhat revolting give me a hairy chest any day. *Gazes dreamily into the horizon* Let’s not get started as I won’t be seeing my hairy chest for 4 more months. Aarrrghh….

Anyways back to the point. Hairy men. Mr. Housemate is somewhat hairy. Very hairy legs. So after 4 weeks of me not being around to clean the toilet, I attempted to clean it yesterday. It was not pretty.

There was a huge collection of random hair stuck to the corner of the floor. You’d think he’d be bald by now with the amount of hair I found. Short thick curly ones (from his legs I hope). Long thin ones (from pet). Random blond hair (Hmmmm…).

Note to self. Make Mr Housemate shave his legs for the summer. Or anytime I won’t be around for more than a week.

There’s been plenty of sleepless nights lately.

A side effect of being in love?

More like the side effect of a broken heart.

I have to console myself. Sometimes, some things are not meant to be. When you want different things. When personalities clash. And the love that you both have is not enough.

But love does exist.

In the man who sits next to you while you cry over a broken heart, not once, not twice but as many times as you need to. No questions asked.

Or the man, who in a roomful of 50 strangers, said that the thing that he’s most proud of in his life, is his wife.

Sometimes love clogs up your brain. Makes you forget. Forget your plans and dreams.

As the song goes, I’m bruised but not broken. And I’ll be allright. And I’ll love again. And life goes on. And there will always be dancing. Yes there will always be dancing.

I usually don’t like babies. But isn’t he just a darling? I want one. I can’t believe I am feeling this way but I do.

Biological clock has started ticking a little louder. Humbug.

Like the story of my life I have to wait for it. Well wait we shall.

At least I am taking tiny baby steps towards it. That disagreements and disappointments don’t mean me having to give up and leave. Because relationships are not meant to be perfect.

Pet is in love. Read some of her emails and her texts. Yucks.

Well, as least someone is.

What is love anyway?

After the initial glow, reality sets in and bites you in the ass.

Being in love is not about how you feel but how you make the other person feel.

And is the risk of losing nearly everything worth it?

When filling out form today for work, next to the word "sex" was tempted to put "Yes Please!". But instead had to put "female". Humbug.

In New Zealand (Auckland), "sex" is also called "route". Therefore, when one says "Let’s go down that route", it doesn’t mean "Let’s go down that route". It means "Let’s have sex". So when telling a taxi driver which "route" to take, one must make sure one stress "route" as in "route". Not "route" as in "sex". Tricky that one.

In Ireland (Dublin to be precise), "sex" is "a ride". Therefore, one must be careful when using phrases such as "Riding a horse", "Can you give me a ride?" or "I need a ride". Again rather tricky.

In New York (Noo Yaawk), at least it’s more straightforward. "Sex" is "sex". No frills. No confusion.

This is all from my first day at new firm. When I should be discussing my goals/objectives etc etc. As always, somehow the conversation will go down the "route" of getting a "ride".