It's a dirty job but someone's gotta do it

Boys and girls. I will be gone for a week. I've got some serious business to take care of... like snowboarding in New Zealand for a week!

I am so excited, you have no idea. I've literally been reduced to the state of a small child at Christmas. And this should give you an idea of what that looks like:

Don't cry, I'll be back soon. To torture you with stories of mesmerizing landscapes, glittery snow, mountains as high as the sky and heavenly slopes. And lots of partying. It will be my birthday on Wednesday too, so feel free to send me lots of presents while I'm away. Later alligators!

Wanna come to our birthday party?

Click on the image for a bigger size version.

Not smoking kills me tonight

I haven't smoked a single cigarette in the last three weeks. Could I please have a little round of applause? That would do my poor suffering soul a world of good, because I am in pain tonight.

The thing is, I was never a heavy smoker. I was an occasional social smoker for years and even at the worst of times I would usually only smoke a few cigarettes a day. Apart from the occasional big night out where I would go a bit over the top. But I've been thinking. I'm turning thirty next year and apparently that makes people think. I figured it might be a good idea to stop smoking before I'm thirty. To be honest, I don't know how the hell smoking and turning thirty are related, but my little brain somehow made the connection and I went along with it.

Actually, more than the turning thirty thing, it was probably the fact that I woke up about three weeks ago and felt like I had eaten an ashtray the night before, which is not a good feeling. And I wouldn't usually get that. I thought to myself, enough is enough. So I didn't smoke that day. And then I got sick and didn't smoke for another week. And then I thought, what the hell, I might go along with this for a bit.

Apparently people are over the physical addiction in a few days. But the head is the problem. I notice how much I miss all the little rituals I had. Sitting with Michelle before we go to bed and having a little debrief of the day with a glass of red wine and a cigarette. Rewarding myself after two hours of studying with a cigarette break. Sitting on a table in the sun, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. Sigh.

I haven't been saying to people or even to myself "I quit". I'm kind of just going along with this, saying that I'm having a break and see what happens. Maybe this is a bit like my current commitment phobia, where I get into a relationship but refuse to call it that. I'm not smoking at the moment but I don't call it quitting in order to leave myself the backdoor open so I could smoke again without feeling like I'm a failure. Which, I admit, is terrible, and please feel free to tell me what a low kind of person I am. But at least I'm not smoking at the moment, which I figure is better than nothing. And I have been so strong, you would be proud of me. Sitting around with a bunch of smoking friends without batting an eye lid. While inside, I was crying.

But I tell you what. I would kill for a cigarette tonight. I'm trying to study and I'm so desperate for a cigarette break that I'm considering smoking my pencil. God help me.

Help me, doc

Excuse me, is there a doctor in here by any chance? Because I've got a question. The thing is, I think I might have developed some form of physical reaction to studying. Is that possible? Please don't say no, because I can clearly see it's happening. The symptoms are overwhelmingly obvious. As soon as I think about studying, I start to feel tired and sick and get the most excrutiating headaches. Sometimes I even get aggressive and feel like screaming and hitting people over the head with a book. Now it's clear to me that under those circumstances I cannot study without endangering my health. But the question is, is it an allergy to study or a violent reaction to stupid assignments? And are there any tablets I can take or anything? And meanwhile, can I get a doctor's certificate for this? Because this is serious.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, call me arrogant

I'm back at uni for my very last semester. And I'm feeling more out of place than ever. Three days a week I go to uni straight after work in my suit and then find myself in tutorial groups full of kids with braces and too much gel in their hair. Yeah, I kid you not, they actually wear gel again, I didn't realise that either. Many of them are ten years younger than me. Not that I have anything against kids, in fact, I want to have some of my own at some stage, but doing group work with children who have Christina Aguilera stickers on their text books kind of kills the academic mood. I feel strangely snobbish, but I just don't know what to talk to them about and frankly, I would rather hang out with their parents. I keep on thinking that maybe I have accidentally been put into a high school class. It's like a weird dream where everyone else is 12 and I'm 28 and I'm looking around trying to get people's attention so they can say "Oh, you don't belong here, you should go to the group with the adults." But nobody seems to notice.

I complained to a friend of mine and he said, "don't be rude, they're not really that young, you're just very old." Oh, ok. That makes it much better.

The key to happiness

It's really very simple like that. But why aren't men happy all the time then?

The piano has been drinking (not me)

I've been listening to a lot of Tom Waits lately. I'm completely addicted to his CD "The heart of Saturday night". The other day, I listened to "San Diego Serenade" about seven times in a row. Ok, ok, so I get a bit obessive, so what? Anyway, one of my other favourite songs is "The piano has been drinking (not me)." I think it's hilarious. And not only that, it is smart. What a fantastic idea- the man blames the piano for the drinking. I should do things like that more often.

And in fact, that's exactely what I have decided to do. I need to get more creative when blaming others. I'm much too nice, always taking the blame myself when I should. But that's over now. If I don't have a piano at hand, why not blame something else for my drinking, say, my boots? "Man, those boots have been drinking again tonight! They can barely walk straight! Bad, bad boots!" Or: "Look at those stairs, they must have been drinking all night. They are all over the shop." You can of course use this strategy for other situations as well, such as: "Sorry boss, my pillow slept in again this morning." "The bus was hangover and grumpy and refused to stop for me." "My coffee cup was sick this morning."

This opens a whole new world of possibilities. And it's much more fun than "the dog ate my homework."

Poor me

I've been sick with the flu for a couple of days now. I'm not very good at being sick, I get too restless and I feel useless. Which clearly I am. All I have been doing for the last two days is sleep and watch 12 episodes of Will and Grace. That's ridiculous. And I don't even want to know how much work there will be waiting for me when I get back to the office. Although when I spoke to my new day receptionist this morning, she said that she "dealt" with most of my e-mails. Now seeing that she's only just started working for us three days ago, I'm not sure if I should be impressed or a bit scared about that.