Category Archives: Stuff that Actually Happened

I’m far less entertaining when I’m mentally stable

I was making myself a coffee this morning, thinking about every single thing I could do which DIDN’T involve working on my essay plan for philosophy and then BAM! I remembered I have a blog.

What better way to avoid being productive than starting an archeological dig to find it under all the layers of dust and spam?

Of course, since it’s been about a billion years since my last post I am sure you have all forgotten who I am, hell, I’VE forgotten who I used to be.  Shall I provide a quick update? Yes?

I think my last couple of posts involved popping my ambulance cherry and sniffing glue.  Strangely those things weren’t related.  Since then it’s been about 10 months and I haven’t blogged because I’ve been busy shaking things up (and I don’t mean just other peoples beer) a quick time line update in dot point form is in order (yes, I’m still lazy):

  • I received an offer for a place at a University in regional Victoria to study psychology – which I accepted!
  • Left work, sold most of my household STUFF, and packed the rest into my car for the long drive to Victoria from Queensland.
  • Since this stuff included my rather large pooch, my guitar and my surfboard there wasn’t much room.
  • Spent a couple of weeks cruising down the coast… surfing, lazing about, and generally acting like a hippie.
  • Arrived in Ballarat and after a month sleeping in a shed and struggling to find somewhere to live I FINALLY hit the jackpot and moved into a place 2 minutes from the Uni (HELLO waking up at 8.20 for an 8.30 lecture!).
  • My pooch fell in love with my landlord’s pooch.
  • I fell in love with my landlord.
  • Learnt I am good at study, after getting 3 high distinctions and a distinction in my first semester.
  • Got a red and black Mohawk.  It’s awesome.

So there you have it, a somewhat brief, incomplete update of the last 10 months.  Something I have learned though – I am FAR less entertaining when I am mentally stable!

I will attempt to post more in the interests of avoiding study, and regale you with tales of my gay dogs, vegetable garden and deep philosophical and psychological discussion.  Or maybe not.
We shall see.


How Facebook made me sniff glue. Not really though.

I don’t go to Facebook very often.  Frankly because I get sick of seeing whose child has been recently toilet trained, or who has given who a plant/animal/sexually transmitted disease on those silly games they play.

But today while scrolling through the announcements of impending doom marriages, new engagements, pregnancies, job promotions and bowel movements I came to a rather harsh realization.

It seems while everyone else my age is falling in love, getting married and having babies I’ve been busy having abortions, getting divorced and making plans to go back to University.

<<<<<<CRASH BANG TINKLE>>>>>>

Did you hear that?  Yep.  That’s was my emotional train de-railing.  The tinkle part was the shattering of my childhood dreams.

I realise it’s alright to be a wreck sometimes.  That it’s not THE END OF THE WORLD I’m fast approaching 30 and none of my dreams have yet been realized.  Lately, however, I seem to have lost all my strength and every single damn day is a struggle.

In this moment as I sit here wrapped up in my flaws and failings, safe in this uncomfortable but familiar bed I have made for myself I know I have two choices.

I can wish upon a star and just hope things work out for me.  Or I can change my attitude, and change my life.

So if you’ll excuse me I’m going to get out the dustpan and brush, pick up the pieces of my broken dreams and try to put them back together with cloth tape and superglue.  I won’t even sniff the glue.  Promise.

Then I’m going to put one foot in front of the other and keep fighting to make my dreams come true – or die trying.  Hopefully not in a train wreck though, because that would be kind of fucked up.

On a side note, the ‘i’ key has fallen off my keyboard and I’ve lost it.  After thoughtful consideration about writing this post completely without i’s and figuring that would make me look drunk be very hard to read I persevered.  You’re WELCOME.

 


Welcome to my world of pain. Or progress. Hopefully both.

I have discovered lately that despite life flinging feces at me like a monkey in a zoo, I actually WANT to be alive.  So, I’ve decided to take control of the few things in my life!

First and foremost, I am going to quit smoking.  As I am well aware that I tend to be completely fucking insane a little unstable when I do so, I’ve consulted my doctor and am on medication to help with the process.  Hopefully this will prevent lawsuits and/or stabbings.

One of the side effects of this particular medication is bizarre dreams.  Since I already have bizarre dreams, I’m going to keep track of them here and you can tell me if they get progressively stranger.  Thanks in advance.

Secondly, I have started an exercise routine.  I already ride my bike every afternoon with my pooch, but really want to do more to get fit, toned and healthy.  I have a hot sexy supportive coach who has helped me design a program, and is going to ride me hard help me stay motivated.

The plan: Swimming laps on Mon/Wed/Fri before work, Yoga on Tues/Thurs/Sat evenings, and continue to ride each afternoon.  I have a feeling this will hurt.

I am going to attempt to update daily on my progress. This way not only will I have a record of my failures achievements, but you can read all about it.  Or just skip those particular posts and go look at lolcats and porn.  Not at the same time though, because that’s just weird.  I’m not judging you, I swear.


On pregnancy and abortion Part 2. Still not funny, but less likely to make you cry.

You know when you leave your blog for some time without updating it… Then you attempt to carry on with it but you just can’t find a logical way to follow on from your last post?

I’m there.  My blog has been sitting, neglected, like a <insert humorous simile here>.

Now I come to update you all on the intricate, wet, raffia-like threads that weave the underwater basket of my life, and I find myself not knowing where to start.

So why not start where I left off? You can find my last post here.  If you’re too lazy to click on that let me sum it up.  I found out I was pregnant, and had just booked in to have the pregnancy terminated.

In the end I did go through with the abortion.  So I am now un-pregnant.  The clinic I went to had wonderful compassionate staff, and my best friend came with me for support.  In quiet reflection on the way home from what was  the most difficult day of my life, I realised I had made the right choice, for ME.  I held onto that thought in the weeks that followed, despite sometimes feeling emotionally unstable, empty and exhausted, having faith that I would heal with time.

I still have my moments where I wonder what it would have been like if I’d continued with the pregnancy, and I know New Years will be a very difficult time for me.  I know I’ll be thinking ‘what if’.  But I will deal with that when the time comes.  Or repress it.  One of those two things.

Thank you all for sharing your views and comments – and most of all thank you to those who showed me nothing but love and support, without judgement.  It’s amazing how kind words from people I’ve never met can really make a difference.  You all rock.

In further news, I’m on the ‘quit smoking’ bandwagon (again), have started an exercise routine, and I’ve applied to two different Universities to study next year.  More on that next time!


On pregnancy and abortion. No, this post isn’t funny.

WARNING:  If you were looking for something humorous, I’d suggest you go somewhere else now.  Perhaps visit The Bloggess.  She always makes me laugh.  But right after that come back and read my other posts.  Don’t make me get all jealous and stabby.

A few weeks ago I was stuffing food into my mouth and joking with my friends that I was late (not for work, or for the bus – I’m talking about my period) and that soon I might be eating for two.  I guess I wasn’t worried because there was such a slim chance of me getting pregnant.

“Knowing MY luck, I will be” I said rolling my eyes – It is common knowledge that I have some seriously bad luck when it comes to uninvited random life changing events.

Then after another week, I bought the pregnancy test.  Still joking about it, but wanting to be sure to be sure.  You know, like when you don’t think you’ve turned the iron off so you go back to check, but of COURSE you switched it off, and really deep down you knew that and… See my point?

And so I peed on a stick and about 5 minutes later I went back to make sure it was negative.  It wasn’t.  Shock ensued.

I knew whose it was immediately.  After all, I can do basic math (seriously).  He and I didn’t speak anymore, after we’d seen each other over just one long weekend and it hadn’t worked out due to *cough* irreconcilable differences of opinion.  Polite, aren’t I?

Over the course of the next couple of weeks I deliberated.  I let my thoughts wrestle between those of having a baby vs. how I would feel if I had the pregnancy terminated.  I still don’t know why I avoid using the word “abortion” when it’s legal and I’m pro-choice.  Oh wait, I just used it didn’t I? Moving on.

I spoke to the father, his preference being that if I was going to keep it that we “tried again”, or that I went ahead with the termination.  He really didn’t want to have a child to someone he isn’t in a caring relationship with.  Who does, I thought? He did he would do the right thing whatever I decided.

Intellectually I knew the right choice for me was to NOT have the baby.  Emotionally, my thoughts danced to the steady ticking of my biological clock, being 28 and actually wanting to have children.

I know now isn’t the right time.  I know when I do have children I want a supportive partner to share it with.  I am overjoyed by the fact that this means I CAN have children when I thought I couldn’t, even if I don’t have one now.

I knew I needed to make the right choice for ME – and my head tells me that not having the baby is the most sensible decision.  I try to hold onto that thought, even though right in this moment I sit here writing this with tears in my eyes, thinking it will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

I have already booked a procedure to terminate the pregnancy.  Have an abortion.  Get un-pregnant.

I had to have an ultrasound today.  Sitting in the waiting room, the black plastic toilet sign figures mocked me and my bursting bladder.  Good thing they called me in on time, or I’d have made a mess all over their already terminally distasteful multi-coloured carpet.

I wish she had asked me if I wanted to watch while she did the scan.  That I had the forethought and strength to say “turn off the screen”.

I wish she had not told me I’d be due on the first of January.  A New Year baby.

I wish she’d asked before pointing to the flicker on the black and white screen that was my baby’s heart beating.

I wish she hadn’t let me hear the soft *lub-dub lub-dub* of the baby’s heart beat, clear and echoing in that small, sterile room.

I wish I couldn’t still hear it ringing in my ears now.


I can’t think of a title for this post which doesn’t contain the word ‘cock’.

Since things have been getting a little more personal around here lately, I have some news I just had to share with you.

I saw Eskimo Joe in concert last night!  They were awesome, as I expected, and played a bit of their old stuff mixed in with tracks of their new Album “Inshalla”.  I am sure it was as different for them playing at a sit-down venue as it was for us to stay sitting down – and,  most didn’t. 

The Joe

The Joe

Supporting them was Bob Evans (Kevin Mitchell), who I REALLY enjoyed live and would have enjoyed him a lot more thoroughly if he’d only asked thought he was very talented.

After the show (and before the Joe came on) he was signing autographs – and since I was wearing a Splendour in the Grass t-shirt, I asked him to sign that for me.

  my cock

Me: Would you do me a favour?  I’d love it if you’d sign my t-shirt…

  

Kevin Mitchell:  Sure, where would you like me to sign?

 

Me: On my cock.  Thanks!

 

 He laughed and tried not to make eye contact, but deep down I think he really wanted me to leave.

That’s right.  I basically asked Kevin Mitchell to sign my cock.  And now I can cross one more thing off my list of ‘Things to do before I die’.  Awesome.

Eskimo Joe and Bob Evans live

Eskimo Joe and Bob Evans live


My holiday – The good, the bad, and the embarrassing.

Despite the cold, I had the BEST FUCKING TIME EVER on my holiday – It was just what the doctor ordered!  Not literally of course, but we don’t need to talk about prescription medication NOW do we?  Good.  Anyway, it was awesome to see my family after 5 or 6 years, and it felt like I had never left.

Which, it was pointed out to me yesterday, is a strange thing to say since I never actually LIVED there.  A mere technicality I say! Home is where the heart is, and mine has always been with my family.  Fuck.  Did I just write that?  I must be going soft.  Moving on.

My Dad and I flew in Friday afternoon – and not long after I had a call from a friend I’ve been chatting to online for a few months, checking to see if I’d be out later to catch up for a drink.  Why not?  I thought…  He said he wasn’t an axe murderer (doesn’t use axes), and Dad and I were having a few drinks anyway.  He impressed me immediately – I was getting drinks at the bar when he arrived, and so after a quick hello he went and introduced himself to my Dad and they were busy chatting when I got back to the table.  Of course, Dad scarpered not long after that, and we continued on to have a fucking awesome night.  SUPER FUCKING AWESOME, in fact.

Fortunately, Saturday was spent visiting family and doing a bit of shopping, so I managed to cope with my hangover and lack of sleep quite well!

My cousin’s 21st birthday party was a huge success – we laughed, we cried, drank cocktails, shots and pre-mixed girlie drinks (I DID manage to have a few beers *sigh*).  And that was BEFORE the party even started!

Wearing a pretty dress and impractical footwear, I figured I was off to a good start in my quest to blend in with the 21 year olds.  The drunker I got, the easier it was, and by the time we got in the limo I was S-M-A-S-H-E-D.  And yes, fitting in quite nicely thank you.  The rest of the evening is kind of a blur, but here’s what I DO remember…

  • I got to go in the ‘cool’ limousine but I am not sure why it was the ‘cool’ one because I am just not that cool.
  • We all stopped because we needed to pee (gee, who’d have guessed THAT would happen).  There were no toilets where we stopped (Thanks Mr Limo driver).
  • Yes, I was the chick who peed behind the dumpster.  I am THAT fucking classy.
  • At least I wasn’t the chick who threw up at the bar.  Guess I should have taken her seriously when she said “I’m going to have this shot, then I am going to throw up”.
  • In the first club we went to I was offered drugs that I don’t even know the NAME of 30 seconds after walking through the door.  That continued to be a theme throughout the club.
  • I called someone I’d met up with on the Friday night to come ‘save me’ and he took me to another club with a few friends which was MUCH more relaxed and less drug-dependant.  Fortunately he was as smashed as I was.
  • Standing on the street at 4.30 in the morning waiting for a cab I felt like every cell in my entire body was being individually snap frozen.

The next day, I am proud to say, I was in MUCH better shape than my cousin.  I am as surprised as you are.  Dad and I managed to go to the markets, where I bought 3kg of dutch licorice (yum) and a new jacket, before FINALLY we got back to my Aunty’s to SIT DOWN before dinner.  Yep, you guessed it – I was pretty fucking tired by this stage.

I WAS supposed to catch up with friend on Sunday – but he never called – and I didn’t have his number with me.  I was pretty disappointed actually, but, in the end there’s not much I could do.  I guess it just wasn’t important to him or he’d have picked up the phone right?

Sunday night was spent saying goodbyes… One in particular that was a lot harder than it should have been… Grrrr… and trying to get some sort of sleep before all the flying and driving to get home.

Of course, having said that, we still managed to stop at the factory outlet after we got off the plane – It’s amazing the energy you can find when you don’t want your holiday to end!

Now… to work out how soon I can get back again… and SOON!