An open letter

Guest post by Grumpy Girrrl

Dear fellow residents of a certain sunny, waterside city,

I salute you in your enthusiasm for the great outdoors; for embracing our government’s concerns about your expanding waist lines and going for a walk; for your dedication to your doggie-friends and their love of a daily frolic in the water.

To the cyclists who make the environment just that bit cleaner as you eschew your cars to fly like the wind on your daily commute, and the wanderers, out to soak up some vitamin D with your fellow senior citizens, I salute you too.

So why the frack can none of you salute me in my own endeavours to maintain a svelte waistline and keep rickets at bay?

As I embark on my daily run, why must I balance precariously on the side of an embankment trying to pass you as you plod along, 4-abreast without the slightest concern for other path users?

Why must I dodge your horse sized dog that is careening towards me off-lead,  full pelt,  shaking its harbour-drenched coat and leering unbecomingly, its fangs closer to my shins than is commonly defined as polite.

Why must I give way to your prams the size of range rovers?  It’s not like you are trying to keep your heart rate up.

Why should I lose my pace as lycra clad lunatics whiz past but can’t find the bell to warn they are coming?

WHY PEOPLE WHY!

So share the love, people, and the path. Don’t make me go back the treadmill.

You shit me

Guest post by Grumpy Girrrl

This week I’ve been to a naturopath, a kinesiologist  and have consumed vast quantities of ayurvedic (1) calming tea. I felt all peaceful and floaty in the sea of chaos that surrounds me.

I thought I’d lost the will to rant.

And then, lady, yes you, you passed me. Coughing everywhere like your hands were better utilised hanging by your hips, than say, covering your mouth and keeping your goddam swine flu to yourself.

Well that’s hundreds of  non-health-fund-refundable-cos-you-deem-them-lunatic-fringe-treatments dollars down the drain. Sigh.

xoxo

Grumpy Girrrl 

(1) Named after that famous Viking raider Ayurvedic the Prolific, 342AD. Captain Angry Ranty Pants

Open Offices

Guest Post by Grumpy Girrrl

Wow am I grumpy.

I’m grumpy because I don’t have my own office in my new job.

 Actually I’m grumpy about my new job in general, but I digress.

What I’m really grumpy about is the decline of office etiquette since I last had to mix with you unwashed masses in an open plan office.

I’ve spent years in my own little office, with tidy book shelves, a complete lack of personal paraphernalia  (save for some carefully selected high-end stationery products) and a secret bottle of spray and wipe for a good, thorough, weekly desk clean.

And now I find myself thrust into your noisy, dirty, uncivilised world. Well let me share a few choice thoughts with you.

1. Speaker phone is Not. Ever. Ok. Keep your hold music and your inane conversations to yourself. I can’t even begin to fathom why you think your laziness at being able to pick up and hold a telephone receiver makes it ok to subject 20 other people to your conversation.

2. Your ringtone is not cool and I don’t want to hear it. Even if I liked Lady Gaga, 15 second bursts of it across the day would not be my preferred way to enjoy her greatest hits. That’s why mobile phones have silent buttons. And in case you’re in anyway unsure, vibrate is not silent

3. Tuna has no place in an open plan office. Nor other stinky food like re-heated mashed up leftovers from last night’s attempt at recreating Masterchef. Take it somewhere else so I can put my gag reflex away.

4. Keep your family photos in your wallet, your kids craft on the home fridge and your mouldy mugs out of my line of sight. This is a place of business.

5. And just because we’re forced to spend 8 hours a day in close proximity doesn’t mean I want to be your facebook friend. I don’t know you, yet I can hardly say no, so I’ll accept it and then put you on limited profile. Pointless.

End of rant. I’m off to spray and wipe.

xoxo

Grumpy Girrrl

I work in a cave in the dark so this doesn't affect me. Captain Angry Ranty Pants

Leggings

Guest Post by Grumpy Girrrl

I have a thing or two to say on leggings. Well more specifically, leggings as trousers. Pants. Outerwear. I thought it was a passing fad, something that the fickle-fashioned-youth in their slender-bodied world would rapidly embrace and reject.

It was around 2 years ago I had that thought.  I fear that it is now more prevalent than ever before. Today I saw a fuller figured 30-something sporting a pair in downtown Sydney. And yesterday a junior colleague was in a floral pair. In the office. With nary a skirt types garment to shield my tortured eyeballs.

PEOPLE where are your STANDARDS?

So here’s the thing. Leggings don’t look good on anyone without the corresponding level of coverage. Not even the young and slender. But I do uphold their right to clothe themselves in a way that is challenging to my extreme-late-twenties sartorial sense. Isn’t that in the position description for those young folk?

But I draw the line when those who are old enough and large enough to know better, don the legging in this way. It’s lazy and sloppy and in no way flattering. That long cardy does not make it right, or stylish, or acceptable on any level.   I don’t care how comfortable you are, put your leggings under a skirt and remember that their primary purpose is in creating a trans-seasonal outfit. 

xoxo

Grumpy Girrrl

I agree. Especially the leggings which have pockets on them! What good are they? You can't put your wallet in them or your hands. What next? Printed belts? Then stencilled flies. Whats a prebuscent chap to do but be confused! Stupid! Captain Angry Ranty Pants