Learning ...

Paramedic School is hard.
Thankfully it is also rewarding, challenging, enjoyable and as cheesy as it sounds feels like my true calling...

The first few weeks kicked my butt, full time study had me seriously wiped out. It was all I could do to drag myself home and eat before I fell asleep. I felt a little separated from the rest of the group as I was granted RPL for the first year so joined a group that knew each other and had worked together already but they are great bunch some interesting characters for sure!

Assignments were long hard and often, exams and quizzes constant but I did it - I have papered the fridge with A's and I am VERY proud of myself.

I am saturating myself in all things medical, I spent a period with a fixed wing ambulance crew, which was an awesome experience and fingers crossed may even lead to a casual position with them. I put in my first and second IV's (thanks Mum!), have read miles of ECG's and putting differential diagnoses to the test at every opportunity.

A tired, happy wee minimed - loving learning, stretching my mind and doing the best I can do!

Relocated...

Well the move happened - I made a quick decision and pretty much resigned, packed and disappeared in about two seconds flat. Its like pulling off a band-aid - better if you do it fast before you think about it too much.

So I'm habituating in the north now, living with Mum after 10 years apart - and surprisingly that has been the simplest part of the move! I'm one semester down of four at Paramedic School and enjoying LOVING it.

I've caught back up with some really good friends that geographically I haven't been part of their lives in the last decade. It's good - I love being able to help out with their sprogs, play, drink copious coffee's and generally enjoy the ability to pop on over!

I miss the deep south, the friends, the long stretch of coastline I used to look out over, the restaurant, the bar, the station. Especially hard was missing the engagement of my favourite couple EVER; well, not the engagement but the few days after of champagne and happiness - it's just not the same over the phone. Still good, still giddy, but, I want to hug them.

My family needs me, the cousin not only has two incredibly cute children that I love, but Parkinsons, a debilitating disease that is stealing his strength, his balance, his freedom and ability to work, but not his love, joy in his children, and the strength of character that I know will get him through the darkest days. But as an aside - Parkinsons - it's not just about shaking, and it's not just for old people - its a BITCH! I can't cure him as much as I'd love that magical power but I can mind the kids as much as is needed, they are a pleasure and treasure.

As well as being a parapup and learning the tools to save lives, this little mini-med has been really enjoying her photography. I've taken it to the next level with a course or two and a few thousand more photos added to my collection, an (unpaid) job, and potentials in the pipeline...

Loved...

Thinking about embarking on a relationship (if only it was that easy), and purging and exorcising the imaginary lovers from my mind got me thinking about the past relationships I've had...

'The First', N, Also known as 'The One I Wish I Hadn't Fucked Up'
Ohhh N, My first grown up love. He was slightly older than me and yet we worked. From the moment we first went from friends to more, it was like the planets had realigned so that we could be the centre of each others universe. He was (is) handsome, caring and loving. Unfortunately my over reactive 'girl brain' kicked in as my insecurities misled me and I broke up with him. We were shocked, we were sad, we still fooled around abit afterwards. He still walks into my Mum house lays on the couch like he lives there, calls Mum - well Mum, makes my blood boil when I see him, and can hug like noone I've met since...

'Schizo Ex', We went out for quite a while, practically lived together, hung out with respective families. Had pet names, had great sex, had a great time together. Until the crazies came over him and in 8 hours we were apart one day he decided it was over. Ended with a phone call, "don't ever call me again". OK of course I redialled, then visited, was met by the blackest scariest eyes and all the hostility in the world. Had a cuppa with his grandma and walked out, confused, upset and beyond sad. I got an apology and wish I hadn't treated you like that I still love you two years later.... yeah two years too little to late buddy. (Meanwhile, Grandma, Sister and I are still good friends and we laugh at the fool regularly).

'The Ex', No fancy title needed. We were together for long enough that people kept looking at my finger expecting a flash of diamond. Sadly, we were meant to be, we went the full circle from friends, to GF/BF, to 'partners' and back to friends. Its a happy place to be now. Don't get me wrong there were plenty of tears shed, plenty of snide remarks and plenty of 'have we done the right thing?'... In a word, Yes.

So I'm figuring, since it is possible to love and be loved, it will happen again. One day. Hopefully. Before I am old and grey and surrounded by cats.

Unavailable...

I think mentally I am reserved. For what/who I don't know. Maybe one of these days a boy will come along and make me laugh, want to hang out, not cringe when I burp, and be happy to fit into my manically busy existence. (Yes I call them boys - men are scary)

Unfortunately, I am not dating. Its not that dating scares me per say, but, I'm not sure I know how to do it. How to get back into that circle? I work in a bar (or two) so get drunken offers every now and then and whilst they work wonders on my self esteem, they are not offering a date - generally I think they just want to get smutty - which don't get me wrong is not an inherently bad thing it just isn't where I am at.

The few people I have glanced twice at recently have been for all intents and purposes not ideal. Although they seem to get a wee slice of my imagination for a while, at the end of the day I know they are not Mr Right, or even Mr Rightfornow. In most cases the biggest problem has been geography - they all either live or work a million miles away and have only stepped onto my corner of the earth for a holiday, break or visit. They walk into my life, make my heart beat slightly faster for a few seconds, then leave again. This leaves me unattainable for a while as I get caught in a day dream of what could have been... I snap back out of it eventually, I'm not still pining for them (often) but then the cycle seems to repeat.

Is my subconscious not letting me move forward, am I drawn to boys that aren't/can't be relationship material?
If so... Bite me subconscious I want a someone! If it is why? I am over the ex, happily friends with him but not going backwards in life. I am secure and happy in myself I think... so bring it on!

Part of the problem could be the fact that I don't 'do' one night stands therefore almost everyone I meet in a bar/on a night out, I discount because I believe that 99.76% of them are just after a root... am I wrong?

Don't get me wrong I am not a biological time bomb ready to explode into marriage and babies, I'm in no rush. I just think I've been single long enough now and sitting in front of the fire in my new place would be so much nicer with someone to steal the heat from...

Forgotten ...

Standing alone atop a mountain
Shadowed by the crosses,
The crosses of a thousand men
Who fought so fiercely
...and died.
They died for our freedom
and yet we are not proud
We take it for granted
Our freedom
We do not care
We are cruel.
Why one day to remember,
And the rest of the year to forget
ANZAC not remembered
As we said we would
But our fathers forgotten
Their names not heard
We still feel the wind,
The sun on our backs
But the red blood no longer flows
Lying dormant
Under earth
Our blood is nothing
What did we do?
A single poppy once a year
When compared to them,
Pitiful
Poor
... Weak

Teasing...

You can look but can't touch
See but not taste
Anticipation is building, but
Without rewards it's a waste.
Feather light touches
Ignite your skin like a flame
Biting hard on your lip
As you growl out my name.
Tempting and teasing you
Driving you mad with desire
Your pupils are dilated and
Your nerves are on fire.
Begging and fighting
Trying to get to those lips
Biting and scratching
Kisses with little nips.
You hold your breath waiting
For our torture to end
I can't hold on for ever
And on that you depend.
Teasing and tempting
Playful and sweet to start,
More fun with the reward
You can't wait for that part...

Mountain Climbing...

Not in the literal hiking boots, alpine air and dehydrated snacks kind of way, it's been more figurative.

I have moved out of my house with a few twinges of the heart strings for my old villa (not nearly as grand as it sounds), been temporarily nomadic, flat hunted, had my references checked and been approved by the new landlords to make my habitat in their rental. I have a mountain of boxes deposited inside the door, and it is going to take some mental (and physical strength) to unpack, organise and get sorted.

Also I have climbed a career mountain and am (mostly) on a path that will mean I'm finally a paramedic before I'm covered in wrinkles and my back has gone out from the strain of lifting patients. Unfortunately, that is going to mean another move before the end of the year - I'm seriously tempted to live out of the boxes until then.

At the top ... I'll see you on the other side

Twenty Six. . .

1: I HATE feet - mine and yours.

2: I love easily - and am hurt easily as a result.

3: My boobs are heaps bigger than they look in clothes.

4: I can't think of anything I am scared of - except for failing.

5: I cut the end of my finger off years ago ... it's name is Stumpy.

6: I think the reason children love me is that they know I'm just a big kid.

7: Loyalty is one of my strongest traits.

8: I have owned 3 cars - Burt, Oscar and Charlie.

9: I read almost every night - even if the words are blurred from alcoholic effects.

10: My mother has recieved a fathers day card from me every year since I was three.

11: I love Africa - although I haven't been yet.

12: I have visited a number of prisons around the country.

13: Beetroot, Pickled Onions, Pork, Bacon and Oysters are some of my favourite foods.

14: If I could do anything in my life once again it would be talking to my Grandpa.

15: I have skydived more than once.

16: I have only had one panic attack ever - it was enough.

17: I love the sight of blood.

18: I can't wait to be a mother but I can wait before I have children.

19: I often regret not standing up for myself.

20: I don't have a sweet tooth.

21: Once you are in my heart, its almost impossible for me to let you go.

22: I do it alone, but tell others not too.

23: I'm a shit magnet. Also, I attract nutbars.

24: I have eaten, worms, bugs, and testicles.

25: My collection of poems is like reading a tortured soul.

26: I cry at movies, books, ads and when others cry but try to stop crying when I am sad.

~So long 26... you've been great, but I'm looking forward to 27 and all it is going to throw at me.

Liking, loving, laughing, longing, lazing, learning. . .

Staunch . . .

Well as staunch as you can be when you are five foot f-all.

You see I was in a real life bar fight, well, not a bar fight where there were bar stools flying around the room, and I didn't shank anyone with the pool cue I snapped across my knee. but, it was scary and loud and I was staunch. Noooo, there was no hair pulling, scratching or pinching. It wasn't even with another girl. It was with a rather scary gang member - I knows...tough much?!

So how does a slightly tall midget blonde get into a bar fight with a big tough nasty piece of arrgh? She asks him to say please. Ohtheprovocation. Yep.

"tinytim" (not tiny - see those inverted commas?) boofs down his empty bottle, says 'beer'. Cheeky bargirl (a wee bit cheeky no commas) 'please?'.

"tinytim" unleashes rant/tirade/verbal diahorreah/word vom/curses/bitches/moans...

Goes on for obscene amount of time, I tried to placeate, I even cried a little (stupid emotional reaction), then I got MAD!

Anyshortgrumpy pants... Best line:

"tinytim" - 'there is the blahblah gang local head, and then there is me'

moi - 'well your still someones bitch then huh?!'

**Small disclaimer - I was shaking in my boots - this is not the normal crowd I see, serve or choose to converse with. This guy was S.cary. However, even though I got lippy, I have no black eyes and my house is not ashes = Dream Result from potentially Nasty Encounter**

Numerical. . .

18...
With the head honcho away for two weeks I will be working (at 3 jobs) 18 days straight... yes eighteen, osamnaest, atten, diciotto, dix-huit - in any language it makes me want to curl up under my duvet, plug in my iPod, cryalittle, drink myself silly and run farfar away. 18 days - really isn't that illegal? It should be.

14...
I realised today that my Grandpa died 14 years ago this March, I was only 13 when he passed. I will have spent more of my life without him 'in it' than with. On that note for the last 13 years I have still written his birthday and his anniversary into my diary. Not that I'd forget either ever... I'd like to think that he and I will always be tied, we were so close, that spiritually we are eternally linked.

9...
It is 9 years since I lived in my hometown, does that make this my new home town? I think generally the winters are too cold to say I'd stay here. But if the folks in charge of the white truck with flashing lights want to pay me to stay I'll most likely do it... they could pay me to go almost anywhere. Volunteering may be good for the soul but not for the bank balance. On that tangent - is a volunteer job a job or a hobby?

Eleventy Million...
That's how many valentines I had to wade through to get out my front door on Sunday... flowers, cards, teddy bears, wine, poems, prospective future husbands offering services - all there. Well apart from the flowers, cards, teddy bears, wine, poems, prospective future husbands...unless they were invisible. Got a couple of sweet messages from friends though! Friend love is just as spesh.

3...
Three months until Nice! Cannot wait - Nice... yep the French Riviera, ahhhh bliss, my Canon and I will be there. Jealous much?

124...
Haemoglobin at 124 - highest its been in the almost 7 months since my blood transfusion - ohhh yeah - making blood cells like a professional I tell you. Normal range for the 1st time and no red flags from the lab! I knew all that red meat eating, spinach chewing and parsley picking was key.

Like a loved up 15 year old...

Oh my lord Santa Mamakat came (way back then) and got me a Canon 500D - I am so in love with this camera.... it may be unhealthy how close we've gotten, we are like a 15 year old loved up couple I can't keep my hands off it...sigh.

I'm still not a 'photographer' per say but I'm shooting for the stars - and everything and everyone else. I figure the more I take, and play with settings, lenses and post production editing the better I'll be.

Click, click, click.....sigh.

Rocking . . .

There is a CD continuously playing in my car, and probably two songs (although I love the whole album) that I can't get enough of on repeat. They are slow songs not usually my driving music but they have touched me (not in that way you grubby folk).

Tahuna Breaks are an 8 piece band who I first saw live last New Years, since them I have not gone more than a day or two without listening to them. They just released their second album and its just as brilliant as their first. Next weekend I'm going to be front row rocking out with them, and their energetic mix of funk, soul, rock n roll and reggae.

The two songs that are my soundtrack at the moment are Sophie's Lullaby and Somebody's Daughter. I think they resonate because the lyrics are so beautiful and poetic.

Also saw them live last month - love loved the show - they sure know how to rock the party! Had a smile a mile wide all night!

Happy Snapping . . .

I've always been a photo-taker (not a photographer that implies something more professional and artistic than I'll ever claim to be). I love capturing a moment in time and having it to reflect on later. I have many photo albums and I would definitely save them if my house caught on fire (also the cat and my childhood teddy).


A friend recently picked up one album and I realised I hadn't printed any photos since 2007. I blame technology, the fact that my facebook profile houses hundreds of shots and that I have treated my laptop like a portable album - and yes technology makes it easy to share and show but its just not the same as having 'real' pictures printed, captioned and flicked through. Before my first digital camera, I knew the staff at my local printing lab by name, I probably had shares in the shop, and I definitely spent too much money there.


So in the last week, I have relived births, weddings, nights out, days in the sun and times with my family. I have laughed, shed tears and cringed, I have selected, chosen, sorted and printed 596 photos. I am almost up to date however since my printing mission I have taken more...


My photos pay homage to my loved ones, friendships, good times and beautiful places, and now no matter the fate of my computer, they are real, not digital, a tangible memory to treasure for always.

Lessons In Life . . .

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me and consequently I will never finish a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with?

Do you remember when you were a kid; playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in the world did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or faq's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

There is a great need for a sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what was going on when I first saw it.

How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

The only time I look forward to a red light is when I'm trying to finish a text.

Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say"

I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.

Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".

How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other?

I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

Bad decisions make good stories.

Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!

Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem...

You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.

I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

"Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.

I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this.It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?'

I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my itunes.

As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.

I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat b@stard before dinner.

Even under ideal conditions people have trouble locating their car keys in a pocket, and Pinning the Tail on the Donkey - but I'd bet my ass everyone can find and push the Snooze button from 3 feet away, in about 1.7 seconds, eyes closed, first time every time...

I wonder if cops ever get p1ssed off at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.

I think the freezer deserves a light as well.

Screaming . . .

Can you hear me?
Its been one of those weeks. You know the ones, where you want to crawl into a warm safe place put a pillow over your head, turn off all phones, in fact all technological devices, insert an IV of any mind numbing fluid and ignore reality until its over. . .

I know that there are millions around that will have had a worse week but this is my blog and dammit I feel like hosting a pity party. . . I do apologise though, feel free to leave and come back when I have lost this shitty outlook on life.

So. . . (Ranting commences). A fellow manager at the bar/restaurant where I work pour my sweat, blood and tears into has had his employment contract terminated due to "serious misconduct" . . . read he is a lying, slimy, lowlife who has been caught with his hands in the till. Prick. I know hate is a useless emotion that is more effort than its worth, but I'm there, I HATE him, in fact I'm seriously considering organising a public stoning. It isn't 'my' business, I have no invested interest in the place, BUT, I have been there since before we opened, I am loyal (possibly too much) to the place, I care about GP's, wage costs, my fellow staff, the owners and the business itself. This thieving low-life has been employed since early in the year, and we think has probably been 'supplementing' his pay since about then. We caught him red handed, after many phone calls, late night meetings, clandestine security measures, and sleepless nights and yet the little chocknob still is not admitting the full extent of his dishonesty. . . even since we have learnt that he has huge debts and a gambling problem. Boofarkenhooo, I have huge debts, and I don't gamble or steal to deal with them. . . I drink.

Anybottleofwine work has been stressful, I had to work for a couple of days with the fallengoldenboy and pretend I didn't want to punch him in the face. The management and staff are all feeling very abused, sad, angry and some of us a little violent.

In the middle of all this I learnt that one of the guys from The Ex's rugby team passed away suddenly. Homer was the absolute salt of the earth, a true friend, loving father and husband. His funeral was testament to how he touched so many lives, and brought many different groups of people together. There was standing room only, tears flowing freely and many touching tribute, including one from his incredibly brave 9 year old daughter which almost brought me to my knees. I didn't know Homer that well, only really from the sidelines of the rugby field and the clubroom's afterwards, but I liked what I knew. I expected to feel sad and cry at the funeral (I am a rent-a-tear) but I expected to also be mainly sad for everyone else that has died in my life, his family and friends, but only in an abstracted, not a close friend way. Instead I realised I will miss him, even on the periphery of my life, Homer, had impacted in a way I hadn't comprehended.

There are some people that come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts and we are never the same again. Rest In Peace Homer, may you have a rod or rifle in one hand a beer in the other and be standing with loved ones on the big rugby field in the sky.

So all in all this week has sucked. I want to delete it off my hard drive of life and pretend it never happened.

On the upside The Ex (hi!) and I confused his former rugby team and friends by going to the funeral and after match function together, generally supporting each other and getting on really well! It is almost incomprehensible to most how well we get along - although before you think it not in a getting back together way or going back for ex sex way!!. . . if I wasn't living it I wouldn't believe it myself, I've said it before - I'm blessed.

Remembering . . .

OMB 1912-2007 . . .

As another year rolls around marking my Grandma's death, I am filled with memories, some happy, some sad, all that make me realise how much I miss her. She was the absolute matriarch of our family, stoic, full of 'airs and graces' yet she could (and would) swear like a trooper, and is to this day the only person I know who can say f**k sounding like the queen mother. This post is a tribute to her, although I'm sure she is much more interested in the bottomless G&T she got at the pearly gates than looking at heavenly Internets . . .

I remember sitting (wriggling like a wrigglything) on Grandma's knee while she got her hair washed and 'set' on Friday mornings at 9am, insisting that she read me the book "things that go bump in the night".... every Friday I stayed in the holidays from age about 3 onwards. In fact I was about 16 when the book finally had been removed from the toy box... I wish she'd read it to me now.

I remember doing yoga with her in the mornings, her in her girdle me in my pj's, and looking back she was remarkably limber for an 'older lady'. I especially loved the move where we held our knees and 'rocked on our spines' kind of like a cast sheep or turtle gone belly up... I wish I could tell her how impressed I was.

I remember Grandma, striding into the pool every morning at the crack of dawn (sometimes almost cracking ice on the surface) to do her 24 lengths... always in her bathing cap (sometimes only in her bathing cap)... sometimes with stray frogs along side her as well. I swam in the mornings with her but only until I was about 5 and then the morning cartoons were a stronger attraction... I wish I could swim more lengths next to her.

I remember fighting with Grandma, big nasty horrible full blown rows. She and I were so alike in so many ways that we butted heads relatively *cough* often. I have stormed off in tears more times than I should of. She really knew how to push my buttons as well, and would do so at any opportunity (with a sly wink to whoever else was there), causing me to clam up, chew my lip, and try not to cry...I wish she would wind me up and drive me crazy one more time.

I remember Grandma full off opposites and contradictions. She was tough as nails and had the stiffest upper lip ever and yet loved to hug us, especially towards the end. Grandma spoke the queens English... with liberal dashings of profanities that could have made a mob member blush. She looked like a Grandma, white/grey hair, and a lived in skin, and yet shopped with style and class both for herself and for the family, she wouldn't be seen in pants especially in her later years (my entire lifetime) and looked glamorous even doing the gardening. Grandma clutched the steering wheel of her jeep/car as if she was terrified it was going to take off on her... yet she drove in the middle of the road at top speed with no regard for other motorists (after all she'd been on the road since before they were born)... I want to hear her hurl abuse at someone again.

I remember Grandma's infectious laugh and wonderful (sometimes dirty) sense of humor. When Grandma got the giggles - which she did frequently - it was contagious, everyone laughed with her. Her laughing fits exasperated my Grandfather, especially when she'd laugh so much she'd wet herself, which then just made her laugh more, never showing a hint of embarrassment... I want to laugh with her again.

I remember Grandma's crelbow. It was the best most comforting crelbow ever, giving my infant self much comfort... I want to roll her crelbow skin again.

I remember my last weekend with Grandma, our last snuggle lying in her bed with her, our last conversations, I remember seeing my Grandma look frail and small, I remember her clutching my hand, I remember her listening to her transistor radio in the middle of the night, I remember never wanting to say goodbye, struggling to say I love you in person for the last time, I remember my photo propped up on her bedside lamp so I could watch over her when I left, I remember that walk down the hall being the longest and most painful walk, I remember she loved me...

Most of all I want to keep remembering her, understanding her strengths, her weaknesses, the things that brought her joy. I want her strength to be part of me. I want her to know, even though I was a Grandpa's little girl through and through, there will always be a part of me that only Grandma will understand. I want to thank her, she impacted upon my life in so many ways, some big, some small, all treasured.

Double Drabbling . . .

At Peter's blog that I have been reading devouring he is still holding a contest, a Drabble contest no less. I'm excited, two of my favourite things together... contests and writing oh my!

I hinted there might have been another dabble up my sleeve in my first entry... and this one fell out later on ... enjoy, or not, but I enjoyed dabbling it so there.

Devil in Disguise
I taunt you
With all my cruel jokes
I play deep inside
...your mind
One minute
I tell you that I love you
The next breath I tell you that I lied
I bring you gifts
And tokens from my heart
I weave our futures so we’ll never be apart
I crush your heart beneath my boot
Yet the tears that are welling inside I hide
I’m a devil with a conscience
In you I do confide
You tell me I’m your angel
You tell me to decide
But I’m a fallen angel
A devil in disguise

Drabbling . . .

At Peter's blog that I have been reading devouring he is holding a contest, a Drabble contest no less. I'm excited, two of my favourite things together... contests and writing oh my!

Anyrandomdrabbler.... here goes entry number one (possibly of one, however there may be more be more drabbles up my sleve)...

As I sit and watch the sunset sinking in the sky
All my thoughts drift back to you
Although I can’t think why
You cheated and you hurt me with all those things you said
I believed you as you whispered you love me
Apparently it was it all in my head
Someday I will forgive you and time will heal my heart
Although I thought we’d be together
And that we’d never be apart
So as I watch the last rays sinking upon the tranquil sea
I’ll lift my head and show you
Just how strong I can be

Playing with fire . . .

I'm bad, but it feels so bloody good. I've been flirting my little arse off with a man who I shouldn't be flirting with . . .
But he flirts too so it's not really so bad huh.

Anyflirthag its all good because I'm only going to end up hurting myself in the long run and what are hopes and dreams for if not for trampling in the dirt and destroying??

On a positive note I'm scarily excited about returning to work tomorrow - I still don't feel 100% but I have been working on my arse groove on the couch for well to long now, I'm worried about bedsores couchsores.

I guess its sad but work is largely how I define myself; I'm good at the two jobs I do (completely different career fields) and miss working with people and fake smiling at crap jokes and customers, hell I even miss being talked to like I'm a lower than the germs on the dogshit stuck to your shoe... Ahhh it'll be good to be back. Also sick to death of people telling me to look after myself, yes I was a dumbshit for getting sick but it wasn't entirely my fault, just plain old fashioned bad luck...

Blah blah blah eat healthy, get some sleep, blah blah have you taking your meds, blah blah bladdy farken blah!

Had a bollywood party for Loo's Dads 60th on the weekend which was almost as awesome as it could be, the only thing that would have made it better would be if Loo had got her crazy butt back from the bigwideworld and come home for it but no... instead I had organised a surprise video birthday message from her for her Pa which we played on the big screen. Was awesome seeing the looks on her parentals faces as they watched it, however, being the massive sook I am I bloody cried sobbed like a small child lost in the supermarket AND I had already watched it about 40trillion times to harden up... tear duct fail!

Was a great night, a perfect re-entry for me into civilisation, and wearing sparkly jingly clothes that make you sound like a windchime in a cyclone with pretty bindi's and sparkling eyelashes rocked... In fact when I grow up I want to be indian now.

Ticking . . .

Things that make me tick . . .