| 8:41p |
Rumours
There I was, innocently designing my little heart out at work, and little did I know that I was the centre of speculation. It turns out that in my tiny little workplace, there are a few rumours about your very own Carla Gypsygirl doing the rounds of our office slash factory. In a way, I don't blame my colleagues for coming up with rumours. I mean, I've noticed that since I finished working at the childcare centre, I don't have as many funny stories about work anymore. Like, everyone at my current workplace is toilet trained, and no-one smears play dough into my pants anymore or tells me that I have "chicken hair" when I have tried to achieve that dishevelled rock chick look. Actually, I still have no idea what that kid meant by saying that I had chicken hair. Like, we were playing by the sandpit and we were discussing hairstyles- probably the merits of pigtails versus plaits or something- and she looked up at my floppy fringe and said, "You've got chicken hair." I responded with a shocked, "What do you mean?!" And she said, "When I have messy hair, my mummy says that I have chicken hair." I have run this comment by a couple of different friends, and we can't come up with a conclusive translation. I was thinking that maybe that kid meant "rooster" instead of "chicken"- like, you know how roosters have that rubbery red bit that sticks up on top of their heads? But I don't have a mohawk or anything.
Anyway, I'm getting way off track here. Screw the chicken hair thing. Now that I have a full-time job, I can afford to get someone else to cut my hair. Gone are the days where I lock myself in the bathroom with scissors and a Blondie CD- now I can pay someone else to give me a rock chick look! I don't know what the deal is with bloggers and hair, but for some reason, bloggers always tend to write about their hairstyles. I am no exception.
Okay, okay, back to the story about me being the centre of rumours at my workplace and stuff.
CURRENT RUMOURS ABOUT CARLA GYPSYGIRL
Rumour #1: Carla has worms.
This unflattering and definitely unladylike rumour has been put forward on not one, but TWO occasions by my boss, Barry, and always when I am in the company of others. He says this because whenever I get to work, I start to munch furiously on a peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich, and I am always found wandering around the office eating an apple. Sometimes I can't answer questions because I am chewing. So Barry thought that the best conclusion to reach was not that I am a healthy girl with a good appetite, but that I have a pet tapeworm in my tummy. Obviously, this is not true. Bugs are gross, anyway. That's why I don't like camping.
Rumour #2: Carla's mum owns a fancy boutique.
This is but one theory surrounding Carla's dress sense. "You never wear the same thing twice!" Barry marvelled, eyeing my Sienna Miller inspired get-up. That's right, I'm like Fran Drescher from "The Nanny"- I have frequent costume changes. Especially when my Sienna Miller outfit quickly descends into a soggy-scruffy-hippy outfit after trampling through the rain into work. The truth is no, my mum doesn't own a boutique. Actually, she often despairs over the clothes exploding out of my wardrobe, and sometimes when I leave the house, she looks at my outfit, sighs heavily and says, "WHAT are you wearing?" Mostly she says that when I am wearing stripey knee-high socks or very lairy colours.
Rumour #3: Carla has a really long wardrobe with a really long rail in it. At the beginning of the year, she starts at the left-hand side of the rail and works her way through wearing various clothing combinations until she reaches the end of the rail. Then at the end of the year, she starts again.
This theory is also not true. I don't get it- I thought that if I worked in the fashion industry, then people wouldn't think I was weird for wearing themed outfits and Doc Martens and ruffle skirts and other things like that. But alas, it has not been so. Haven't these people seen a girl wear a psychedelic purple swirly skirt from Glebe markets before? I had no idea that I was so weird!
Sometimes, I wish that someone would just wet their pants at work or chuck a tantrum because someone wouldn't let them play with the toy tractor or something, and it would be a lot easier and more interesting. Then I wouldn't feel like a bored celebrity trying to avert attention all the time. Geez. |