JustAnne.

My Bits. Yes. You Heard Me.

I have recently decided that my Facebook, Twitter and justanne.net blog are just not enough outlets for my compulsive need to share my amusements with the world. Indeed, they are woefully inadequate. "How?" I hear you ask, "Aren't you self-important enough already?" I hear you say. Well, honestly, no. 

My frustrations stems from the following:

• Sometimes, I have thoughts that are larger than 140 characters, but smaller than 3-4 paragraphs (the size of my typical blog posts).
• I like to share web content with people and cannot use Twitter, because not enough of my friends have embraced it yet, and I cannot use Facebook as I already feel mildly guilty using it to inundate people with my blog updates.
• I also like to share photos of silly things I encounter when I am 'out and about'. And while I have used my blog for this in the past, it seems to be taking a new shape and form that 1-2 sentence witticisms and photographs do not quite fit into.

So, I have been toying with a couple of different things and finally settled on starting a second, 'micro-blog', attached to JustAnne. I was going to go with Tumblr, but it occurred to me that as I pay SixApart $100 a year for the honour of hosting my content, and have the capacity to create an additional two weblogs, I should probably just do that. So I give you . . . . 

My Bits (and bobs).

I will not be updating Facebook or Twitter when I update Bits, if there is something of drastic importance there I shall link to it from time to time. So for all of my Avid Readers, I recommend checking out the link in the sidebar on left of this page when you are procrastinating from work/study/facing reality. You could also try something drastic, like bookmarking it (so old school . . .) or subscribing to the RSS feed. I think you will find that most of the action on My Bits happens on the weekend. So maybe they can become part of your Monday morning routine. Or you could just ignore them. You wouldn't be the first.

My Friday Morning Freak Outs.

To the outside world I am an extremely organised and together person. And for the most part I am, I keep an umbrella in my handbag after all. But I am also an extremely busy person who owns a lot of stuff that is kept in an very small space. Translation: I am messy. Really messy. When I lived with other people I was able to keep things in a reasonable order, at least in communal spaces. But now that I have my own (granny) flat and it is just me, things get a little untidy. 

Generally by Fridays there is an accumulation of debris that has to be seen to be believed. We're talking dirty dishes, bags of clothes, tupperware, baskets of clean laundry, scarves, earrings, books, magazines, and DVDs. I usually deal with this accumulation of chaos on Saturdays, when clothes and dishes are washed and things get sorted out. This becomes a problem when I have a couple of very busy weekends in a row and things are not dealt with.

Over the last couple of months I have been falling into a bit of an anxious habit. Every Friday morning, without fail, I have a minor panic about the mess and what a boy would think if I happened to bring one home. This ultimately leads to a frenzied cleaning fit rendering me behind schedule and late for work. At this point it is important to state that I never bring boys home. Well, not yet anyways. And while it is nice to amble home on a Friday evening to smaller piles of crap and a slightly cleaner kitchenette, I find myself feeling a bit embarrassed for getting myself in such a state for no good reason.

I am sure that One Day I shall bring a boy home on a Friday night and this anxiety will be totally validated, but until then I shall just have remain yet another vaguely neurotic person.

Fraudulently Fit.

I noticed something while I was in the bath last night. It was a strange something that I had never noticed before. It was new. It was my biceps. Clearly all of my 'hard work' at the gym has been paying off. I use single apostrophes in this instance because I do not think that I have been working that hard. At all.

Sure, I pay a personal trainer, a pilates physio and an evil multi-national gym good money to help me maintain my fabulousness. But I have been slacking off. Six weeks ago I got a strengths program from my personal trainer, during that period I managed to fit in about three sessions. When I met with my personal trainer on the weekend to 'review my program', he became excited. If you've ever had a personal trainer you know the kind of excitement I'm talking about. It's sort of fake and a little overwhelming. Well, on Saturday I copped it big time. Apparently, I've really improved. Apparently, I am kind of impressive. Apparently, my personal trainer gives the best programs ever. He actually asked my permission to discuss my improvements with his other clients. 

This was all well and good, except that I felt like a big fat fraud and was actually quite embarrassed. I did not have the heart to tell him that my 'improvements' may actually come down to factors related to my age, metabolism and the work I have been doing in pilates, and not just his weights program. Still, I do seem to have biceps now, that's kinda cool.

Oh, and for the record - I am not attracted to him. Thank god. I could not imagine anything worse than being attracted to my personal trainer. I am always baffled when people suggest that I could meet someone at the gym. My fellow gym goers see me at my absolute ugliest. I am all red, and sweaty, and usually wearing head bands that give me an afro. Sure, I walk out of there feeling great, but by golly gosh do I look like shit. Which is a shame, because I really quite enjoy scoping out the fellas floating about the place. I have started calling them Gym Pups. And they certainly make my rest periods between weight sets much easier to bear.

In completely unrelated news, I had lunch with my mother on Sunday and she made the comment that my freaked out Zit Attack might actually be dermatitis. For about thirty seconds I was over the moon. It was not pimples! Perhaps I am not going through a second adolescence after all!! Then she commented that I had had this before. When I was a teenager. And then I realised that dermatitis on your face that requires steroid cream is probably worse than pimples. I guess that is what you get when you fake-out your personal trainer. 

Top Five Things About Getting Home Sober.

1. Remembering to take make-up off, and put moisturiser on afterwards.
2. Remembering to clean your teeth. 
3. After accidently squirting toothpaste on your hairbrush, having the wherewithal to clean it off. 
4. Not having strange, inexplicable bruises forming. 
5. Not having to drink litres and litres of water and eating strange concoctions from cupboard in an attempt to avoid the inevitable hang over. 

The downside?

Having significantly less 'crazy single lady' stories to tell to your waiting public. But, the cute young French boy who served me at McDonald's called me a Lady. With beautiful eyes. Snap - I've still got it!

Shopping Rehab - The Rules.

I have only just realised that the commencement of my Shopping Rehab coincides with the Financial New Year. It must be a fateful time for new beginnings because the first of July also marks my first anniversary of Weight Watchers.

So without further ado, I present - The Rules . . . 

• Credit cards OUT of the wallet
• Only take keys and membership card to the gym (two out of three of my semi-local GloboGyms are located in shopping centres) 
• When grocery shopping - stick to the list! NO additional beauty products to 'try'. NO buying things just because they're on sale or a multi-buy. NO impulse magazine purchases.
• Only ONE magazine purchase is permissible per week.  
• When experiencing boredom, hangover, emotional crisis or hormone-related mood swings, I must try to avoid shops and food. Instead I can call a friend, see a movie, sew a cushion cover, blog, or stare listlessly at a wall. These things are all preferable to the aftermath of shopping and/or eating.

Free-Purchase Conditions.

I am allowed three 'free' purchases per week. These purchases must be under $20. Any purchases over $20, or additional to my three 'free' purchases must be discussed with and approved by one of my two Rule Mistresses. Any purchases over $150 must be approved by both Rule Mistresses. 

Just to clarify . . . 

• Going out to dinner and 'hitting the town' do not constitute shopping.
• But concert and theatre tickets probably do. So in future, I must seek permission for these in accordance with the Free-Purchase Conditions.
• Holiday transport and accommodation costs do not constitute shopping, but holiday shopping budgets must be negotiated with both Rule Mistresses.

Date for Review: 1 October 2009

During this period I will also be tracking all of my expenses so I can develop a realistic budget. Pre-GSD I was just too terrified to record any of my binge-spending but now that I am feeling more in control of things I can actually stomach recording my spending. Although I am sure this process will still reveal many a scary insight into my consumption. Goodness knows how much I spend on bottled water every month just because I have left my recycled water bottle at home/at the office/in the car/at the gym. 

I am not sure I really want to know just how much my absent-mindedness is costing me . . . Sigh. But I suppose I will never be a fabulous financially-independent feminista if I do not face up to these things.

Alright peeps. Game on.

And I Thought I Was Done With Puberty.

I am beginning to feel that I am regressing to my late teens. The proof? The last month has seen me experience/perpetrate the following:

• Attack of the Killer Zits. Seriously. I have a couple of 'spots' near my mouth that appear to have planted their roots and are cultivating a family. The bastards just will not go away.
• Organising to attend a Britney Spears concert 
• Over-consumption of liquor leading to a flood of vodka-sodden tears, which consequently got me disallowed from the Gold Coast Casino (!!). 
• Colouring my hair out of a packet. 
• Indulging in lustful thoughts. About 20-year-olds.
• Running late to meet people because I have spent the morning 'taking care of business'. 
• Considering going off the Pill.
• Out of control, mis-firing mojo. 

I am yet to decide how I feel about this. I mean sure, I am only listing the silly things that I have been doing over the last month. There have been plenty of mature and life-changing epiphanies and activities in my financial and professional spheres. But the above list is long enough to be disturbing. The real question is - do I embrace my re-presenting 'youth', or do I beat her back into submission? Surely life is too short and I am far too young to be beating my 'youthfulness' into submission. But how many casinos do I need to be booted out of before enough is enough?

I'm not sure what is worse - being booted out of a venue when you're 26, or being booted out of a CASINO. They're supposed to let everyone in. The drunker the better - the lower ones capacity to keep hold of their money, the more desirable the customer. How embarrassment.

Great Shopping Detox - Final Days.

Wow. The month is just about over and I have money in my bank account. And thank goodness because I have just committed to Britney and Parklife tickets.

So what have I learnt? Well, I've learnt that I need to make some of these changes long-term and sustainable. So, as I have mentioned earlier, I am transitioning into Shopping Rehab. The rules will be fairly similar, but I will post them in more detail shortly. 

People have been asking if I am going to go completely nuts this weekend. And the short answer is -  not really. I will be buying some earrings for some Bollywood performances, and I am going to buy the Little Boots album (which I am incredibly excited about as it is part of that whole 80s pop thing that I am loving the shit out of right now).

I will also be going op-shopping with my mother and under my developing Rehab guidelines I have negotiated a $50 budget, which I am interested to see how far I can stretch. I am keen to see what kind of second hand Tupperware might be available. A girl can always use more Tupperware. (Did I mention that I had to move my recycle bin outside because I needed more cupboard space for my Tupperware? Because I totally did).

Now I must confess, I did have a bit of a lapse last weekend. I impulse bought a scarf. It was $3 and I just couldn't say no. I almost made a friend buy it for me and then I would pay her back outside the shop. But that was just too shameful. I decided to suck it up and make the purchase myself. If I was going to break the rules I should at least take some responsibility for it. I have no regrets, it is an awesome scarf. It's a pink, blue and cream number with a rather dashing stripe and flower motif. It reminds me of my grandmother - but in a good way. It is a bit like some of the sundresses she used to wear that, I assume, were in a 70s fabric.

So my total number of lapses this month were 2 and the total cost of those lapses was $4. Not too shabby. Although I must also confess that I am yet to finish the Thrift Book. I got totally distracted by the Flirting with Finance book. There is just too much self-help literature to be consumed. 

Oh God. I cannot believe I have reached that point in life where I am accessing self-help 'literature'. But there it is. I stand here as an otherwise intelligent young woman who is nurturing a love of glossy women's mags and the self-help/advice section of the library.

Man, I have no idea how to reconstruct that so it fits in with my ideals and world outlook. I am definitely going to need a bit of time on that one. Shopping Rehab on the other hand, slots very nicely into my journey of womanly empowerment and independence. So at least I can feel good about that.

Crushes, of the Teen Girl Variety.

I just thought I would take a minute to share with you two men whose babies I would definitely consider having.

The first is Chris, from Cute with Chris. And no, this is not just because he has given my cat Arnie infinite stardom. I have always been partial to his sardonic wit and all-round-fabulousness. Also I have quite the soft spot for North-American Accents. They just do things to me . . . *cough* Anyway, my Teen Girl crush on Chris has really taken hold since listening to his new project - The Chris Leavins Story Hour. Oh, and I am soooo excited about the forthcoming book. I do not even want to talk about it. Okay, and yes. I have CWC T-Shirts and Pen. And a thank-you note. Handwritten.

The second is Gary Lightbody from Snow Patrol. He has a wee blog that I enjoy popping by every now and again. It is not frequently updated but I suppose that is what happens when you are an international superstar musician. Whateverz. But when he does update he provides the world with these wonderfully extensive, occasionally ranty posts that I find myself enjoying more and more. And for the record, this is not an 'Irish' thing, it is totally a geek thing. I just find him so delightfully nerdy and talented. It also helps that I adore his music, which is saying something because you know how I feel about men with guitars.

So why share this information with the whole wide web? Well, when a lady finds herself at home alone after a disappointing Friday evening it sometimes makes her feel better to think about some of the high quality (alright, idealised) men that are floating around in the world. Surely the odds are that there will be one or two of similar ones living in Australia. The trick is finding them before some other woman goes and has their babies. And while I do not think I am officially in 'search mode', it is nice to conceptualise just what I might be looking for. If I ever start looking seriously. Which I might not. Argh. Men. 

Hrm. I think I need some sleep.

I am SO Excited!

And I simply cannot hide it. My cat is faaaaaaammmmmmmoooooooooouuuuuuuuuuussssssssssssssss!

Clearly the incredibly articulate (and incredibly booze fueled) email submission to Chris (of world renowned kitty cat blog, Cute With Chris) paid off. And to think, only today I was feeling mildly abashed about the whole thing. It was the same night I wrote that post on Younger Men.

Meanwhile, I could totally do with some YM action this weekend. Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze something in between the almost outrageous quantity of Bollywood dancing I will be doing. It is taking over my life. Performance on Saturday night (at the Gold Coast), rehearsal Sunday and two, I repeat, two Indian weddings next weekend. And while I am incredibly excited about attending my first Indian wedding, I remain concerned that I will not have the time or energy required to find myself some hot young man flesh. Life can be so difficult at times. 

But at least my cat is famous. :)

Great Shopping Detox - Week Three.

Another week has flashed past, and I am still going strong.

It is hard to believe that my detox is nearly over. Discussions with various peers, co-workers and my inner-self has lead me to the realisation that the end of June will see me transition from Shopping Detox, to Shopping Rehab. What this will look like is still to be determined, the rules will probably remain very similar with a few minor adjustments and spending caps. I simply cannot keep seeking permission to purchase things like needles and thread. It would seem that if I want to make 'conscious spending' a permanent part of my life, it will have to be a long-term commitment. And while I have yet to reap the financial rewards of my non-shopping, I sense I will over time. 

I have even started reading my library copy of Flirting with Finance, which I am finding a lot less patronising than I expected. Indeed, it is seducing me with its dating metaphors and feminist undertone (yes, these things can co-exist) whilst whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Things like "Financial Freedom and Independence". Interestingly, it is helping me reconstruct my shopping detox and journey into financial understanding and control as a sort of pro-feminist affair. 

An idea that was reinforced when discussing my detox with someone who made the comment "your other half having to pull the reins in then". My response, without even thinking was "no, I am pulling the reins in for myself. It was just something I had to do". 

The moment was an interesting one as it highlighted the general assumption or 'rule' I suppose, that women's non-essential spending is often curbed by their male partners. Or at least it is frowned upon by their partners and is consequently hidden from them. When I thought about it I realised that I have had many conversations with women whose spending is in some way inhibited by their male partners. Not in a scary, domestic violence kind of way, but in enough of a way for me to notice. 

Now, I have needed a lot of help during my detox but not a single one of my helpers has been male. Alright, so I do not have a lot of men in my life, but it never even occurred to me to ask the ones that are floating around for help or advice. Perhaps this is because in my family, my mother is the money savvy sista, with my own poor retail habits having been learnt/inherited from my father. Or perhaps it is my own hang-ups around seeking expert advice from men courtesy of a long history of being patronised by men in computer and electronic stores. Or perhaps I simply think too much. In any case, I find the whole thing very intriguing and I like the idea of fitting my Detox-turn-Rehab into a broader social context. Because you know, that's what I do.

I think my ultimate moment of realisation over the last week has been . . . .

I am already a Smart, Sassy and Sexy woman. But now it is time for me to get Savvy.

And that, is what I think this whole thing might be about.