Thursday, June 30, 2005

It's A Rant

Had a complaint against me at work today. Actually it was from one of the nurses...the same nurse that tipped me over the edge last month, when I had my boo hoo moment in the kitchen (I was also PMSing at the same time...a bad combination at the best of times...HOW DARE SHE??!).

Today she complained that Annette and I have been leaving the front desked unmanned too often. This isn't a difficult task....I find I'm forever chasing off around the office to find nurses, or rushing into the doctor's rooms to explain something to them...asking them questions from patients that have rung etc...before they take in their next patient. As far as I'm aware, this can't be helped. The desk is never unmanned for any longer than a minute at most, and we pick and choose the moments we leave it. I often ask the patient that's just come out of the doctor's room if they can give me a moment while I grab the doctor. I'll get the occasional disgruntled look, and if that happens, I'll stick around...grab the doctor next time.

Anyway, the practice manager has asked me to note next time it happens and why....I fear I'm going to spend my time writing more notes...stupid ones at that too. But she wants to at least have some sort of come back when the complaint happens again. Notice I say "when"...not "if"....because this is not the first time this particular nurse has complained about somebody. From what I can gather, the partners are starting to get fed up with her complaints.

Fuck her (the nurse that is, not the practice manager). If she thinks she can do my job sitting on her arse all day long, then so be it. See how much she manages to achieve doing that.

Onto other news. I came home from work to try and sort out a rather lengthy tax problem I'm having. Apparently I owe the tax department over $3,000. Now this is only for 1year...way back in the 2002/03 bracket. I rang them last year to find out what the story was....they felt they'd overpaid me on the 'family assistance' grant...because...and wait for this....because I have no children. That's right. These teenagers living in my home at the moment are apparently not mine. Who knew??

(I won't go into detail as to how 15 reacted at hearing THAT lovely bit of news....suffice to say, his nose was well and truly put out of joint regarding his non-existence.)

Unfortunately, it doesn't stop there. Once I proved that I did indeed have children...faxing them off all manner of documents including birth certificates, bank account numbers etc, I get an updated tax statement. I now owe them over $3,500. What the fuck?! What's more, I also received a tax statement for the financial year 2003/2004....yep, I owe them yet another $3,200. Now we're in debt to the turn of at least $6,700.

I've been trying to ring these bastards for the past few days....(don't misunderstand me, I've been trying to resolve this problem for at least 12 months now) most chances I get, I'm on the phone...and what do I get to hear?? "We're sorry, we cannot connect your call at this time, due to overloading...please try again later".

Zip back a couple of months. I receive a lovely letter in the mail from my Bank. "As you are one of our preferred customers blah blah blah, we are excited to offer you an extra loan of yadda yadda yadda" you get the gist right? I almost thew this in the rubbish, I mean to say, I hardly need any extra debt, right? Wrong. I placed it alongside my PC on the desk...the offer was valid until 30 June....ok, that's today.

Finally, admitting defeat.....I rang my bank earlier this week to calmly (there's a joke in itself, I was ready to puke) tell them I'd be happy to take them up on their offer, but I'd only need 'this' amount of money thank you...the rest they can keep for the next time I'm drowning. Cool...the papers are drawn up, it's all go....I'm rich...for a few brief internet seconds before I transfer funds around. Blah.

Now all I need is to actually get hold of Inland Revenue to make sure I'm not paying for something I don't need to. Once I'm satisfied with their answers to all the questions I have, I will fork out the dosh and clear this debt. Quite frankly, I can't stand the stress of it hanging over me any longer...I've had a gutsful of trying to figure out the mental retardedness of the tax department but that doesn't mean I won't be drilling them heaps to make certain they're not taking more money than they should from me (ooo, I just made another joke).

And final rant for the day....Haloscan is sucking big time lately...and not the way I'd like it to be either...this is not how I've been envisaging myself getting sucked lately. Commenting on your posts and then going back to find my comment never actually registered has irritated me. What's more, going back to re-comment...and getting this "Please wait at least 20 seconds between posts (another -10900 second(s))." What the fuck's up with THAT??! Not to mention, the shuffling of comments on my own post, such disorder cannot be good for one's heart. I also noticed on Walker's site that he's answered comments that haven't even been asked yet...I actually had to scroll down further to find the related questions. I mean, I know he's a special guy, and he does have some sorta way of being able to understand me, without me saying much...but hey, that's a bit of weird shit going on right there.

Oh well, what's life without a few major catastrophes to deal with? Boring, that's what. Right I sit here visualising the face of the nurse, with my hands wrapped tightly around her neck...and the tax building burning to the ground...I'm grateful I'm not dealing with being premenstrual at the same time. Hahahaha...just imagine if I was?? That's a scary thought.

Damn...all this typing and venting and I still feel like screaming. Pfft.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Warm Memories on a Cold Morning

She woke up in one of those moods again this morning. She wakes up in one of those moods every morning. Laying under the comforter dozing off and on...snatching time to enjoy little tidbits of fantasies...some from the past, some to look forward to in the future.

Eyes closed and mind focused on the delicious feeling of skin against skin....the sound of groaning and ragged breathing echoing through her head. She feels her nipples stiffen against the soft fabric of her nightware. The thought of his hands palming the fleshy mounds making her back arch...trying to press closer to him.

She recalls him sucking on her lower lip....his mouth kissing and licking it's way down her neck....sliding his tongue between her breasts....the tip circling her hard nipples....teasing them. She feels her body jolt as he flicks each peak in turn...her fingernails biting into his shoulders. His voice takes control of her....."Does that feel good Baby?"....."You want this don't you Baby?"....."Yes!" her mind screams. "Tell me how much you want this"......"I want...I want.." she starts breathlessly....her words cut off as he claims her mouth with his own again.

Her hand slips beneath the dark purple satin below....spreads swollen lips and releases the musky scent of wet heat. Her willing fingers slide across the sensitive button making her gasp out loud. She wants this....she needs this....her body fights against time.

The memories come flashing back, assaulting her senses...the overpowering sensation of him sliding inside her....melding them together. Grinding...thrusting....her muscles gripping him tightly....the sound of their bodies slapping against each other.

"Don't stop...oh God....please don't stop" she groans.

"Cum for me Baby"

Her legs wrapped around his waist...she feels the heat of his skin under her hands, as she drags her nails down his back.

"I know you want it now Baby...cum for me now"

She's on the edge...teetering.....every nerve in her body straining....

*thump, thump, thump!*



"Um, give me a minute"


She grabs the nearest pillow, pressing it to her face and screams into it.


"Oh nothing"
Tuesday, June 28, 2005

"Drivers, Start Your Engines"

Whilst out driving the kids to school this morning, I spotted a Hillman Superminx Stationwagon on the roads. I haven't seen one of those for YEARS. Anyway, seeing that, has sparked this post.

Years ago when I was young and innocent (all of 18 years old), I met my future husband. He didn't have a car at the time, and as our relationship progressed, eventually he bought a Hillman Superminx. It had fat wheels on it (whatever that means). His brother bought the superminx wagon off the same guy (who must've decided to upgrade and get rid of all the old stuff, dunno).

The Superminx being what it was, was like driving a tank....I always felt safe in it....if anyone had plowed into me with their swanky new car, I was sure our car was going to be coming out in the better condition.

My brother in law decided he'd had enough of his, so passed it onto my husband, who in turn decided we didn't need two cars with the same name, and promptly entered himself and the car in Saturday night's Demolition Derby at the local racing track.

After messing around under the hood for hours, they hauled the car up on the back of my other brother in law's timber truck, and transported it off to the track. In those days, if I wanted to spend anytime with the man in my life, I practically had to crawl under a car to see the spirit of young love...I wasn't above doing that on a regular basis. These days, spending time with the main man in my life is a much easier and less dirty experience (you know what I mean, don't be giving me any of your flack about that). I can sit here in the warmth of my home, drinking the beverage of my oil or grease in sight.

Anyway, I digress.....the big night came. The cars were all on the track revving their engines and billowing smoke...all of them fairly old and crusty, but built like brick shit-houses and one in particular stood out because of the flowers that had been painted all over it. The one and only female on the track.

I hadn't seen the car my hubby was driving for several days, so it was the first time I'd seen it since he'd been working on it. How chuffed was I to see that he'd painted my name in HUGE white block letters on the roof of it? Pretty impressed I was.

The race was on...the cars shot off around the track...crunching into each other and trying to avoid the walls of the circuit. My husband managed to get around the entire race track 3 times. Three times! He was beside himself with joy about that. Once the radiator blew and he'd coasted onto the centre green, he popped the glove box, took out the can of beer placed there for that specific ocassion and stood around yacking to the other drivers that had already been knocked out.

I didn't get to sleep until at least 4am that night. This was due to the adrenalin still pumping furiously through his veins and him continuing to say "That was fucken awesome!" for the rest of the night in bed. I was so tempted to say "For crying out loud, go to fucken sleep!" but I didn't want to wipe the smile off his face.

Besides, how could I have been annoyed at someone who had paid tribute to me, by proudly painting my name across the roof of a car he was planning to smash up?
Monday, June 27, 2005

It's All Just Crap Anyway

I've been sitting here for the past 30 minutes clicking back and forth through various screens on my PC. Not blogging, but just the windows I've got open at the moment....Outlook Express....MSN Messenger...Internet email from Anna....blah blah get the idea.

I've been clicking around here, not doing anything in particular because I'm trying to think up something interesting to post today. I have finally come to the conclusion that I have nothing. Nothing to stimulate your senses pretty pictures to post to make you smile...nope...nothing. So I give up....I will just tell you what I did today. There is nothing of monumental value in what I've achieved (besides removing the cat crap out of the bath...again...aaaarrrgggghhh!). Here it day.

I wake to find a puddle of cat poop in the bath (yes I know I just told you that, but hey, if I have to endure it, so do are afterall, such a part of my life these days)...oh yay, more presents *rolls eyes*...I took one look "Oh ffs, I'm not coping with that at this hour of the morning"...and left it there to deal with upon my homecoming.

Work was frantically busy. There were plenty of free appointments up for grabs when I got there....we turned the phone on at 8am....and were fully booked by 8.20am. That's a lot of talking to be had in 20 minutes I can tell you. The rest of the morning was spent squashing patients on top of others or taking messages for the nurses. When I first started this job I actually had rather nice God...I have trouble reading my own scrawl. I believe this is due to taking so many messages in such a hurry. I also seemed to be surrounded by paperwork. It annoys me that the doctors decide they need to be at work during the weekend...thus leaving little piles of paperwork strewn across the front desk, that need attention when I arrive on a Monday morning.

I came home, cleaned the bathroom and restrained the twitching in my leg from kicking the cat (my foot so wanted to do it!). Sat down to watch some telly and have something to eat. And now here I am. I could tell you that I 'egg and crumbed' schnitzel for dinner, caught up with both my offspring on their arrival home from school and put up with hearing 15 and three of his friends playing dungeons and dragons in the dining room (that was after one friendly chap, waved hello to Walker on the webcam). I could tell you, I've peeled potatoes and carrots to go with the schnitzel...put my head in 14's bedroom door, reminded (translated: nagged) him to do his homework and received another one of those beautiful scowls from him.

Yes, I could tell you all that, but I suspect you'd be so totally uninterested you'd rather forensically investigate the inside of the oven while the gas is hissing through it's vents.

Aren't you glad I relented and saved you from that?

You: Thank you!

You're Welcome!
Saturday, June 25, 2005

A car, a pair of drumsticks and a lot of "um's"

Hahaha get a load of this. Me, being the lazy cretin that I am, and wanting to have a play with the webcam Walker sent me for my birthday....created the following. I hope it doesn't take too long to load up, and I hope you can understand me. Enjoy! (or not lol)

A/V Blog
by Userplane
Friday, June 24, 2005


I must apologise to you all. I've been trying to get around your blogs to read and comment the last few days, and besides all the birthday joy and working etc, I've not been having an easy time getting to you.

Ya see....a couple of weeks ago I messed around with the HTML on my template again (you know? just for a change?) and added a little tag thing to each of your links, so when I clicked on your link it would open up in a new window. When I'd finished reading and commenting, I could then close the window (my homepage being right behind it) and click straight onto the next link on my list. Prior to me adding the extra bit, I would have to click on your links, read, comment, click the back button and then go to the next of the links on the list. (Are ya following me?) This started to bother me because I felt it was probably me that was driving my site counter up more than anyone else. And can one really get excited about having an average of 80 odd page views a day, when it could be oneself that's actually responsible for 50 of them??

So, anyway, I added the extra bit, and all was going great until I added the music to my site. I like listening to music when I'm reading blogs, but with the way my new setup is, I get to hear my music, as well as yours (if you've got any on there that is). This can result in such confusion for my ears, that my eyes go out of sync with what's on the page. Course, if you don't have music on your site, that's ok too, but considering my page is open at the same time yours is....I get to hear whatever song I've decided to post that day again and again...over...and over...and OVER. There is only so many times that I can hear Evanesence sing "Bring Me To Life" before I feel like screeching "No! I've changed my mind! I want to stay dead!".

So, I think from now on, I'm going to have to choose songs that have a nice calming effect. I love the softer, more dreamy songs (what can I say? I'm a closet romantic) and those are probably the ones I could cope listening to for such a length of time. The other dilemma I have, is that when I'm talking to Walker on the headset, and click on a link...then once the music begins, I end up saying "don't talk to're wasting your breath, I can't hear you over the music". This is not a healthy communication procedure.

I'm off to babysit Jaimee this morning, she's not been well and Anna needs to rush into work and finish up some urgent bits and pieces (she's a travel agent). When I get home, I'll make the time to get around you all and comment.

Ta ta for now.
Thursday, June 23, 2005

Back to the Norm

I'm not sure I have much to write about all blew me away with the force of your good wishes yesterday, I'm exhausted lol. Thank you so much everyone...I was deeply touched to receive all your birthday greetings. Thank you also to Walker, Bella, Fizzy and June for their extra special blog wishes.

Back to work today, it was extremely busy but sweetened by the huge bunch of flowers my work colleagues gave me. The young man I blogged about recently is not a concern at the moment...he was picked up by the police and has been locked away for a couple of weeks, pending psychiatric assessment. This finally happened after he leapt in front of a couple of moving vehicles, yelling and screaming at the drivers. Unfortunately, he chose to jump in front of one of the other ladies I work with....she was on her way to the surgery, and turned up quite hysterical.

Last night, I had a play around with the webcam that Walker sent me. Finally I was able to open the box that had been sitting at my feet for almost two months. I have to tell you, these parcels of Walker's are never easy to get into....I think Customs must take one look at them and think "bugger that, I'm not even going to bother" lol...maybe that's the whole idea. He covers the entire package in sellotape that's 2 inches thick. In fact, I think he gives it a double layer to be sure. Obviously that never stops me from opening them. With the way I get into these parcels and the varying sizes of scissors and knives I've had to use, I could give any mass murderer a run for his money...or at the very least I should be thinking about doing informmercials for Ginsu knives or the like.

One day when I'm feeling ready and brave enough, I might even have a go at the audio programme and use the camera function on it as well...that way you'll be able to see me at the same time as I'm talking (similar to what Denny did yesterday I guess). I know you're all feeling extremely excited about the thought of this, so I'll try not to make you wait too long.

Anyway, long story made short, I got home from work....came online and we hooked up together to see if I'd managed to install it properly. It worked great...yay! the next half hour or so was spent with us grinning at each other. That was prior to me heading into the shower (Walker asked me if the webcam cord reached that far lol). Now I'm sitting here after the shower, slopping around in my trackpants etc, my hair damp and still unbrushed...obviously with no intention of turning the webcam on at the moment lol.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005

And Here It Is...

I have arrived. I am now in the land of the 40s...a newly initiated member of the 40s Club.

I came online this morning to read my comments. Thank you to all those that have wished me a Happy Birthday. I'm very touched by your wishes.

Then of course I went over to Walker's site....besides the fact that I do this as part of my daily routine, it was obvious that he'd been sending his readers over. I was so touched by his gesture today....the fireworks and flashing stars and his birthday message to me is beautiful...I was moved to tears by the lyrics in the song he has on his appropriate in our situation. I knew he'd been upto something....last week he'd said, more to himself than to me, "I've got 9 days to do this"...I finally bothered doing the calculation and realised it was the date of my birthday in 9 I just KNEW he was up to something lol. Thank you so much honey.

15 came out this morning and made me cry again. He gave me a book called "Dear Mum - Thank you for Everything" (Bradley Trevor Greive). It's a small book that has beautiful black and white photos on each page of animals in various positions and expressions, all suited for the words that run along each picture. One of my favourite parts in the book is..."Frankly, I'd be lost without you, Mum, and I only wish I had more than one lifetime to repay the incredible debt I owe you. You have shown me a world filled with love and wonder, you have put me on the path to a rich and rewarding life, and you have made me happier than you could possibly imagine. I want the whole world to know: MY MUM IS THE GREATEST MUM IN THE UNIVERSE. Because you are. Thank you Mum. Thank you for everything." *sniff*

14 and I are going shopping after he finishes school today. It only occurred to me yesterday, that he doesn't earn his own money and I didn't want him feeling bad for missing out on this in some way. So I offered to give him some money and take him shopping. He was pleased with that. That was after he'd said "Ok, you give me the day off from school tomorrow and I will cook you breakfast and do whatever you want me to for the entire day...that will be my gift to you." Obviously, a non-starter for the skipping school part, so I just said "Nah, let's just go shopping" lol.

Although I don't feel any feels kinda good to be able to say I'm 40. 40 is a good round wholesome number. I like it. Today is my day...this is MY year....for the longest time, 4 has been my favourite number and supposedly my number in the numbers game of life. And now I've turned 40....4 + 0 = 4. This is a good sign. I would say wonderful things are going to happen to me now...but there's no need...because as most of you are aware....I have had so many wonderful things happening already.

I am truly blessed.

I hope you can hear the song I'm playing, you might need to have my page open for a trillion hours to hear it lol. Although some of the lyrics aren't appropriate, I love this song all the same....and I would love to be dancing and smooching up against my man to it.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Geriatric Phenomona

Years ago, when I was 14-15, I worked after school as the tea lady at the the geriatric ward. I think this set me up for life when it comes to not judging a book by it's cover (it also completely put me off drinking tea forever after). Each day after school I would do the rounds in the ward, handing out tea/coffee and clearing plates etc from the patients. Some of the patients I got to know fairly well, others, I had to introduce myself to each and every day...due to various stages of dementia setting in.

One old duck in particular would keep us on our toes and amused for hours on end. I'd often push my tea trolley past her as she was standing in the corridor, handbag over her arm, patiently waiting for the bus to arrive. Another time I found her in front of a full length mirror talking to herself. Her name was Frances, and she always spoke to "Frances". I heard some crashing around in the kitchen one evening...went in and found her going through cupboards, slamming doors and yelling "This is the last bloody holiday I come on with you Frances!"

I've a real thing for the elderly. They are my favourite patients at the surgery. I'd love to have the chance to sit down and convince them I truly was interested....delve into their histories and listen for hours to them speak about their past. Unfortunately, they aren't always so happy to divulge this. And considering the losses and hardships they had to deal with way back then, it's not surprising.

I see them at work, struggling to hang onto their independence. Who can blame them? I feel for these old souls....I think about how I would feel to have my independence taken away from me....not being able to look after longer being able to drive due to eyesight and slow reflexes etc. So many of them...minds as sharp as tacks but their bodies letting them down. How frustrating it must be.

I had a phone call recently from a driving instructor who was very concerned about one of our elderly patients. Over here in New Zealand, once you hit the age of 75 you have to go to the doctor and have a special check up to make sure you're safe to yourself and others out there on the roads. They also have to resit their practical drivers license....get taken out on the roads with a qualified instructor. Anyway, one old dear that he'd taken out, had failed....she insisted on trying again.....he took her out again at another date....she failed. Not being one to give up (let's face it, they're pretty determined these old folks), she insisted on having another go at it. A few weeks later, they hit the road again...she failed.

The instructor had rung that day, because he didn't know what else to do...he'd tried to explain the dangers of her continuing but she refused to listen. Then, just when he thought he'd finally got through to her and relaxed...the following week he saw her shoot passed him on the road in a brand new Honda she'd just purchased (ya just gotta love the spunk of this woman). Hence the phone call.

There's another one that we always know has arrived before she sets foot through the door....we can hear her car engine as she's riding the clutch into the carpark...the sound of her changing gears making us grit our teeth.

I wonder what kinda of old lady I'm going to be? I can see myself now, sitting in a comfy chair at the nursing home, smiling sweetly at the male attendants...pinching their bums, should they dare to turn their backs on me.

The other night 15 asked me "Mum, you know back in the day when I was....blah blah", I repeated this later to Walker. He said to me "He has a 'back in the day'??" lol. I find it amusing that my 15 year old, who's barely begun his life, threw out this old age maxim. Saying that, it was certainly easier to swallow than hearing 14 ask me a few weeks ago "Hey Mum, back when you were a kid, what did you feed the dinosaurs?"......."14 year old boys that asked too many questions".
Monday, June 20, 2005

Beware. More Pics of My Children!


I seem to have a thing about posting pics lately (probably cos I'm finally feeling confident about how to do it lol). The above photo is my all time favourite picture of me and 15. I love it. I had hired a photographer to take photos of him (5 months old) for my ex husband's birthday. Amongst all the snapping and posing etc, he started getting grumpy and irritable because he was hungry. We stopped, so I could feed him...the photographer kept snapping away. And I'm so glad she did. I have this photo framed on my night stand. It sits beside one of 15 at 19 months old holding his new born brother on his lap...unfortunately I don't have a scanner or I would have posted that too. (You lucky devils lol)


I don't feel right posting a photo of one son and not the other, so here are both of them (actually smiling, woo hooo!). I made them hang around long enough to take these photos...they were clowning around and making fun of me, and generally being complete goons, but hey, I got pics of them happy, so it worked for me. The first photo was the wallpaper on my laptop when I went to Canada last year. 14 has shot up a few inches, lost his puppy fat since then and looks more like his Dad every day. Today when he came home and told me about his day at school, I noticed his voice was breaking. Ah well, my baby had to grow up sometime right? *sigh*

I think it's time I came up with another subject to blog about before I overdose you on pics of my kids lol.
Sunday, June 19, 2005

Bits and Pieces

How happy is this huh? lol

It's obviously not a "I'm so happy I could burst" kinda pic, in fact it's more of a "get out of my face, I don't want to be messed with" kinda look. I have, of course, received permission from 15 to post this here. If I had not, and posted it anyway, I would have had to face that expression day in and day out, until he felt he had punished me enough (he's a teenager, what can I say? it could have gone on for months). This pic was taken while he was in Japan. I actually emailed it to his father with a note saying "Here's a photo of our son having the time of his life in Japan" lol. 15 had in fact, just finished touring through the Japanese Peace Museum. He told me later that what he'd seen in there was so depressing and gave him such horrific visions of the past, that it took him some time to shake off the mood.


I got a call at work from 14 on Friday afternoon. He told me he'd had a slight problem that day at school. During science they were dissecting sheeps lungs. He told me he'd almost passed out because he'd felt so squeasy with the whole lesson. I thought he was being dramatic, but this was backed up 20 minutes later by a phone call from his science teacher. Apparently 14 had gone quite pale and left the class to sit outside to regain his composure. Under the circumstances, I don't blame him. Bleech. She was ringing to check and see if he was doing ok now. It made me feel good that the school could ring me about my youngest son, without me having to front up at the Principal's office the following day. lol

On to other news. Weight Watchers have officially fired me. Due to the business with 14 in April and then working double shifts in May, I had been unable to get to the meetings on Monday evenings to do the weigh in thing. I sure as hell wasn't going to be rushing off to meet at a different location in between shifts to find I hadn't lost any weight or god forbid, put some on. So now I'm waiting for the "You can come back, without paying any back fee or enrolment fee now" letter. I could possibly put on the weight I'd lost by then lol. I know I haven't gained any, in fact I lost another kilo in the past month, which is not a major amount but a loss is a loss. Yay for water retention lol.

My 40th birthday dinner has been shifted to the following weekend (1st or 2nd July). This is because 15 is drumming in the college's musical variety show, Wed, Thurs, Friday...and I can't be having my 40th dinner without him present.

Speaking of college, a close friend and I went out to my old college while on a drive a few months ago....for old time's sake we stopped in to wander around the school grounds. Lots of memories came flooding back. As we walked around, we discovered a side door left wide open...was this not an invitation to enter?? Not being one to just stand and stare fate in the face, I dragged her through the door and we got to wander up and down the corridors, looking at old school photos on the walls. Eventually, I needed to pee...was there not a perfectly good school toilet right there?? In the spirit of school remembrance I used the loo, and then we moved our arses outta there.

I wore my balls that day. Check this out to find out what that actually means.

Hope you're all having a lovely, relaxing weekend! Over and out.
Saturday, June 18, 2005


I've been thinking about friendship lately. The people we meet in real life, and the ones we meet online and the differences between the two.

For those that I'm close to in real life, I can hug and kiss and see their smiles, watch them change and grow as the years rush past. I can hold them when they cry and laugh with them in joy and celebration of all the milestones and special events that happen in our lives. I can physically touch their bodies....feel their warmth, see the expressions on their faces change and feel sure I know what thoughts are going through their minds.

For my online friends that's not possible. We can only 'feel' the changes they go through by reading their words. As we become enthralled in our internet lives, we learn to use font size and smilies to emphasise words and feelings we're experiencing at that time. Some are still learning the best way to express themselves and get their point across via this media....others are masters of the language.

From the time I started blogging, I have made several friendships with you people. Some of you may not even know it. Connecting with people online and connecting with people in real life is obviously quite different. But when it comes down to how they make us feel inside, the heart strings they move and the physical warmth that can ensue from our screens, is it not the same as our real life buddies?

Bella, I don't know what it is, but I always feel the need to know what you're doing and how you're going through life. The articulate way you write and the feeling I get from your words is frustrating to me...but only because I want so much to be able to grab hold of you and hug you. I love your spirit. The spunk with which you go through life is wonderful. I feel so fortunate to have you come in here from time to time and comment. When Walker asked you the question on his site about being approached by a mugger etc, what would you do? I told him over the headset "She would've kicked the guy in the head before he had the chance to utter the words 'hand me your wallet' lol" I love the way you always have so many questions for our bloggers on their comments, you HAVE to know more...another thing I love about you.

Fizzy, you have such a strength about you. I so enjoy reading you. The ups and downs of your life are put out there for all to read and ponder....the rawness of your posts of late have my heart aching for you and all you've gone through and still dealing with. I admire and respect you for achieving all that you have over the years. Those around you are truly blessed to have you in their lives.

Aren't you two glad I live in New Zealand? I think I may have just given you the impression I'd be stalking your doorsteps if I was able to lol.

I treasure both sides of the 'friendship fence' in my life. The internet side of it is obvious to those that read can it not be? How and where I met Walker and the impact he had on me through his words, is proof of that alone. How can we not want to pull him into our lives in some way? Or maybe it's more that he shoves himself into our lives...some of the "in your face" style he writes with, can make you think "my god, is this guy for real?!". Trust me, there are no hidden alcoves in the face of Walker....he is just as you read him....he can have you laughing out loud or make your jaw drop at the bluntness of his words....make you shiver at where he's been and what he's done in his past. Yet in the next breath, he can make your heart ache when he spews his thoughts out about those he loves and who he's lost...and he can make you want to scream for the sheer unfairness of geographical errors of not being in closer proximity to him (ok, that might just be me lol).

I receive so much from my friends. I have those that I can lay back with, relax and shoot the breeze all night...others to go out dancing until I drop, yet keep dragging me back for more....and I have those that mill in and out at various times of my life, all making a lasting impression in some form or other. I'm a firm believer in the saying "our lives are influenced by the people we meet and the books we read". How lucky am I? I have been influenced by people I've met on here by reading their 'books'. That's a win/win situation for me.

Thank you all, each and every one of you.... for sharing parts of your world with me...I am honoured that you have become part of mine.

A good friend is someone who will bail you out of jail,
A best friend is in the cell next to you saying "Damn! that was fun!"
Thursday, June 16, 2005


We've been having a spot of bother at the surgery over the past couple of weeks.

One of our mental health patients (chap around the age of 22 or so) has been visiting us on a regular basis. Like, every morning. The first couple of times he was ok. He's actually a little scary in some ways...he has long messy hair and a beard to match...he speaks very slowly, talking at the floor much of the time...not alot of eye contact to be had with this lad.

Last Tuesday morning he came in and caused a commotion....he insisted on seeing the doctor immediately and refused to wait. He paced back and forth in the waiting room...occasionally he would take a seat beside another patient....then proceed to tell them about blowing out peoples brains. He starting yelling and threatening and eventually the police were called in. By the time the cops arrived he'd finally stormed out, but left quite an impression.

The next morning when he arrived the doctor took him in straight away. One of the patients came up to reception to say she wasn't happy being there while he was around....he'd broken into her neighbour's house the night before. The police have rung several times to speak to his doctor, trying to put the pieces together. He's been arrested and then admitted over the weekend to the forensic unit at the mental health hospital...later to be released.

He's also been seen standing at the local bus stop wielding a couple of knives. I served him last Thursday...he seemed calm and 'together'...I had a polite conversation with him and booked him to see his doctor later in the day. During this time, Annette was rushing around out the back, dragging one of the male doctors out of consultation, "just in case". The problem with someone like this, is they can 'snap' very easily...without the least just don't know when it's going to happen. Nobody in our surgery really knows what to do with a situation like this. One of our doctors (who deals with a lot of mental health patients) has suggested we push the panic button and get out. I'm wondering what that means we do with the rest of the waiting patients?....we can hardly leave them there to fend for themselves. He turns up when the waiting room is usually full. Today there were several pre-schoolers present, not to mention at least half a dozen elderly patients. We've also been told, if we see him pacing back and forth in the carpark to lock the door and call the police.

Mid morning one of our staff rang to say she'd just seen him walk past her house. He was walking down the street, yelling out something unintelligible with his hands clamped over his ears. Anyway, while I was sitting at the front desk alone, he showed up. He was yelling before he walked in the door. Apparently he'd fallen off his skateboard and hurt his shoulder and couldn't open the door. By the time I'd put my head down the corridor and yelled out to Annette, one of our elderly patients had kindly opened the door for him. He came in, insisted on seeing his doctor and saying he needed painkillers (it's always about painkillers). Annette spoke to him, she told him his doctor wasn't there and that he would have to come back tomorrow for his scheduled appointment....the rest of us stood watching, wound up like tight springs. After a bit more yelling and demanding but finally realising he wasn't going to get what he wanted, he left. Everybody exhaled.

An hour later I hear Annette say under her breath "oh shit, he's back" and looked up to see that he had indeed returned. He'd bought a small toy helicopter for "Dr Michael". This is not actually his doctor's name, but I doubt that's of any consequence to him...I believe that all doctors are "Dr Michael" to him. He insisted on leaving the helicopter in Dr Michael's office for when he arrived at work this afternoon. Annette said the office door was locked. (This door was not locked, in fact one of the receptionists was using the office to do some paperwork. Taking into consideration that we're to do our best and not show him any nervousness or fear, I hate to think how she would've reacted, had he turned the doorknob and entered unexpectedly.) Fortunately he placed the helicopter at the foot of the door, mumbling to himself and left.

I don't know what he needs to do before they'll keep him in the hospital for longer than an overnight stay. What are the authorities waiting for? This boy obviously needs help. How often do we read in the newspaper these days that someone's been hurt or, god forbid, murdered, because they've discharged a mental health patient too soon? I could be over-reacting about this, but if I'm being completely honest with you, the possibilities of what could've happened today have unhinged me a little. Annette said she was close to vomitting after she'd spoken to him, purely due to the 'nerve factor'. We both had the shakes after he left. The staff are practically freezing the second he appears.

Anyway, that's enough of my rambling for the day...all this pent up emotion is draining. Thanks for listening, I just needed to get that out of my system. I don't know how much longer I'll bother putting the little video/music thing on my site, but this song in particular makes me think of the guy I wrote about today, so it feels appropriate to me.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005

My 40th - 22 June....hmmm

I've been thinking about what to do with this prestigious milestone of my life. What DO I do with it? To be honest, I'm not keen to be having a big party to mark this even, and if I'd chosen to go that way, I'd have started arranging things a lot earlier than now.

BUT...I don't want to have it go by without something know what I mean? I don't want to be asked years from now "What did you do on your 40th?" have to reply with "Nothing". So I'm thinking about getting some friends together and going out for dinner on the Friday night after the official date of my birthday. Now I have to think of where to go, nowhere too flash and upmarket...somewhere comfortable, relaxed with soft-lighting and good quality food, with the possibility of going dancing later if we feel like it...that sounds good to me.

I rang Anna for her input.
We talked for awhile about what to do...blah blah blah (no, no, not THOSE kinda blah blah blahs)

Ok, now all I have to do is email Anna all the email addies of those I'd like to share my big night with, and she'll organise the lot. She even suggested we take a blow-up doll to represent Walker, so that he can be there too. See why I love this woman so much??! She hasn't read Walker's post about the blow-up doll, so her suggesting that is even funnier...ah, the words of the innocent eh? lol

Anyway, once I've done the email address thingy to Anna, I don't have to think about it anymore. Wooo hoooo! Like my sorry brain needs to work anymore than it does already. But, I would like to know what you did on your 40th (that's assuming you've reached 40 by now). So, what'd ya do then?? and if you haven't struck the "beginning of life" yet, what would you like to do?
Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Vixen or Grandma?

After I dropped the kids off to school this morning, I was listening to the car radio. Polly (one of the morning DJs) was doing one of her polls to the general male listening public, and came out with her question of the day. God knows where she gets these questions or how she thinks them up, but here it is.

"Your partner is a 40 year old women, how would you prefer she dressed? Like a Vixen? or a Nana (grandmother)? There can be no in-betweens, and we're not talking about a Pamela Anderson body here...but an average woman of 40."

There were various ages of men ringing in to take part in her poll, it seems that from ages 13-30 (13??!), they'd prefer a Vixen, obviously regardless of what kind of figure their fictitious 40 yr old woman had. Then from age 40 up, with the oldest being 61, the men wanted their women to dress as a Vixen. The 30-40 year old men preferred her to dress like a Nana. I wanted to ring in and ask how the Vixen wishers would feel if the woman was dressed as a Nana but carrying a box of beer under her arm...wonder if that would make a difference to their answers. But...we weren't allowed to give any 'depends' answers.

As you can imagine, I hung on every word of this broadcast...afterall, next week I'm going to be 40...this was important reserach information to tuck away in my memory bank. So, what does this mean exactly? If I dress up as a vixen I could attract men as mature as 61, or boys as young as 13? And how would that mean I'd have to actually dress? low slung shirts, very short mini skirts, thigh high fuck-me boots? I've seen women younger wearing get-ups like this....and I've branded them as skanks (mistakenly or otherwise). Do men really want their women to 'show and tell' all their assets? Where's the mystery in that? And what about the women that make you think "OMG, I can't believe she's wearing that, it sooo does not suit her body type?"

On the other side of the fence, what do Nanas actually wear? A vision of twin-set cardigans and walking canes spring to mind. I do believe they're talking about a more conservative dresser, not someone of the blue-rinse brigade. But let me say, I've seen some pretty stylie and classy Nanas out there. the face of my 40th birthday crashing down on me....and in the name of important research...tell me menfolk, what would you prefer and why. A 40 year old woman dressed as a Vixen, or one dressed as a Nana? (No offence intended to vixens or nanas of any age). There can be no inbetweens, and we're talking about the average body shape and size, not the Pamela Andersons or Michelle Pfeiffers of this world. And to the ladies of the world, so as you're not left out of this at all...which style would you prefer to be dressed in?

Right...I'll just hang out here in my twin-set cardy and miniskirt and await your responses. Go.
Sunday, June 12, 2005

It's Made Me Think

I had a new reader drop by yesterday. Manoj of "As we go on..."

He brought up an interesting subject. "How do we define success?". Manoj feels that the easiest way for him to measure success is by how wealthy the man is. (I have to assume here the word 'man' can be read as man or woman.) There's a fair amount of debate going on in the comments section of his all means, jump in if you feel the need.

I guess, in society, and through the eyes of others (same thing?), we are judged by the type of car we drive...the kind of house we live in...the clothes we wear etc. Personally, I feel I've had various successes in my life...none of them to do with money at all. I have no money, but that doesn't mean I'm without success does it?

I have two fabulous teenage boys...ok, I'm their mother, I can say that, for all you know, I could be looking at them through rose tinted glasses. To counteract that thought, I need to tell you, that I've always, always, made it my business to try looking at my children through the eyes of my neighbours. Let's face it, they've put me through an emotional wringer at times...but, all in all, they're well-rounded children with sound foundations and I'm happy to take some of the credit for them being so. So I'm feeling successful at being a parent.

I ended my marriage after 15 years, became independent, and apart from a few bumps and falls in the road, I'm now standing on my own two feet....noone else is holding me up here....noone is paying my bills and feeding me. We sometimes live from paycheck to paycheck in this house...but I still have a paycheck coming the fact that I'm working part-time AND still managing to feed and clothe us is another success.

I've won singing competitions, talent quests, the occasional job promotion during my working career...I've unclogged drains, fixed door knobs, solved small and large problems for myself and the kids. I have grown to learn that people are extremely complex characters, we are all different, have different views....more importantly I have grown to accept that what they want or need, can be quite different to what I want or need. Getting to this stage of my life, and realising that, I feel I've become a success as a friend to others.

These may all be small in comparison to earning lots of money, living in a mansion and driving a BMW....but they are successes all the same. And honestly? are they small? is it a small triumph to be called a friend to others? is it a small triumph to raise respectful, healthy children? is it a small triumph to be happy in your work and good at what you do?

We all have success in our lives, regardless of our bank balance...the successes we achieve can be relatively small compared to others...but the satisfaction of achieving something that makes us feel so damn good about the person we are and the person we strive to become, has to be one of the greatest successes of all in my book.

And now to lighten things up a little...

Look what I did! Look what I did! ------>>>

Ok, so it's not a HUGE thing, but hey, when it comes to me and technology, or more to the point HTML? what I've achieved today is a glorious thing. GLORIOUS I say!! (and another success notch on my belt lol)

Email me if you'd like me to send you a postcard from New Zealand....the window of opportunity is still open! Step right up, step right up!
Saturday, June 11, 2005

Smoke Signals

Last night I went out to catch up with a good friend of mine. She's a pot smoker and she'd had the occasional chat with my man on MSN. Walker spent some time last week going out to find her a special pipe to send her from arrived in the mail a few days ago, and I told him I'd deliver it to her this weekend. Which I did. She was rapt with's very unique...has a troll's head, handcrafted and attached to the handle. She broke out the 'bubbly' to christen the pipe.

I'm not an avid smoker in this respect. I've had very few experiences with the stuff at all. The first time I was 18, attending a party with my boyfriend (who eventually became my husband), and I cornered one of his mates and asked him to introduce me to this green substance. We went off into an empty bedroom...I shared a joint with him....went back out to the party...tried to breathe all over my boyfriend to let him know I'd been 'grown up'. He then took me back to his place where I spent the rest of the night hurling my cookies. (How grown up did I look then huh?)

Anyway, last night I had another go at it...afterall, was it not my boyfriend that had sent this over? It was only fair that I should share in the christening of this pipe right? Wrong. I am never going to make a pot smoker....and that's ok, I can live with that very well. I toked on this cute little pipe she'd been given....eventually ended up laying down on the couch mumbling my way through conversations with her....and then fell asleep for at least two hours, waking up after midnight. Nope, smoking that stuff just aint for me.

Today I feel hungover. I'm in a deep funk. You know what I mean? I'm feeling in a misery-guts kinda mood. I miss being in close proximity to Walker...I miss feeling his hands on me...miss burying my hands in his hair....miss the smiles and the kisses 'hello' and all the general ordinary minutes of the day that couples share together. Whether it be sitting down silently watching telly or messing around in the kitchen being tangled up in hot steamy clutches at night...or any time of the day for that matter.

Today this distance is sucking for me...big time.
Friday, June 10, 2005


The following blog post is what happens when you're pushed for time and still don't have a blog subject for the day. Brace yourselves.

I am fast losing patience with my cat. She's not a particularly social fact I'm thinking of taping a sign to the door reading "Beware of Cat". She's been known to claw and scratch at unsuspecting visitors that have seen her and reached down to pick her up, saying "Aaaww, look at your beautiful little kitty" be replaced immediately with "Holy fuck, what's up with your cat??!" (rubbing their arm/leg/face and wincing).

Over the past few months, I have written from time to time on here that I have had to clean up this cat's 'offerings'...these have been restricted to the bath or smeared across the laundry floor as I've opened the door first thing in the morning. For this I am grateful, at least they're 'wet' areas she's chosen.

This past week, I have cleaned up after her, not once, not twice...not even three times...but four bloody times! And let me tell you now, this is no easy cat poop to be cleaning up. You'd think it would be something that can be easily removed right? a little kitty turd curled up....well, let me educate you on what I've been dealing with....major puddles of crap....that's right...puddles. Not transparent puddles, but actual mucousy puddles of poop. The stuff that needs more than half a roll of handitowels to get rid of before you mop the floor, that's what.

Today I bought some kitty-litter in the hopes of her using a litter box instead. I'm going to need to get her insides checked out if this doesn't stop. I'm wondering if it has something to do with the kittens from downstairs continously coming up here to strut around, maybe it's unnerved her a bit. Problem is, she's just not the sort that you can get close to and have big conversations with to delve into her psyche.

See this? Does that look like a "don't mess with me" expression or what?

Picture 026

Right, that's enough about my cat and her toilet habits of late. I'll leave you be to go and enjoy your dinners now.


Not more than an hour ago I went down to the Post Office and sent out postcards to all those that have asked for one. I even sent a New Zealand e-card to a friend who lives so far from normal civilisation, he'd have to take a 2 hour plane trip to get to the post office. Considering I was only spending $1.50 on a stamp, it was a tad much to expect him to board a plane just to receive the damn thing. (I am, if nothing else, dedicated to my bloggie family.)

So anyway, they're on their way. Hope I got all the postal codes correct and you actually receive them lol Oh, and one more thing, as I was sticking the stamps on them, I noticed I haven't even signed off a few of them. I'm hoping that when you receive a postcard from New Zealand you'll know straight away it's from me, despite the absence of my name.

I'm more than happy to continue sending postcards if anyone else wants one. And I am wondering if I'm going to have to continue typing this with each post, cos I'm too damn lazy to figure out how to do the flashy button thing on my sidebar lol.

That's all for now....tootle loo
Thursday, June 09, 2005


Last Christmas I took the boys down south to visit my parents. It was a brief visit...all of four days. This was enough for all parties concerned. My parents live in a small country town called Motueka (pronounced Mot-chew-ache-a), at the northern tip of the south island...there's not a lot to do there to keep a couple of electronic-hungry teenage boys entertained, so I figured 4 days would be enough before they drove me and their grandparents batty. Motueka is a beautiful place to visit/retire....lots of fruit trees and kiwifruit vines as far as the eye can see...beautiful beaches...dinky little craft shops off the beaten never seems to rain there. It's a very popular holiday spot for overseas visitors and Kiwis alike.

We took the Interislander ferry over the Cook Strait (3 hour crossing) with the car and drove the 3 hours to my parents home, arriving at 11.30pm Christmas Eve. It was great to spend Christmas Day with the folks...ever since they retired down south, I've missed them terribly and Christmas Day has always given me the dilemma of where to spend it and with whom...for me, it doesn't feel the same to spend the day as a family unit of three. My sisters both live up the coast and my brother is now resident in Australia (after falling in love with a lovely Qantas flight attendant....they're now engaged).

I'd come back from Canada a couple of months prior to Christmas and been severely bitten by the travel bug. Visiting my parents, regardless of how close they were in comparison, made me feel like I was still doing the independent 'travel thing'. The boys were looking forward to seeing their grandparents again and my parents were beside themselves with happiness at the thought of having us stay. (What can I say? We're a joy to behold.)

We spent the four days celebrating Xmas, shopping for crafts, smacking around golf balls on the driving range at the local golf club and generally just hanging out, spending time together, gaining weight and creating more memories to file away and smile at later when we were apart again.

On one such day, my mum and I took the boys into the city of Nelson for lunch. After we'd eaten, the boys were getting fidgety and just basically downright annoying. I suggested they go stand in front of the town centre monument, have a walk around the park, and take some pictures of each other as keepsakes of our trip. Trying to get a decent photo of my boys is virtually impossible these days...both of them aren't keen on having their picture taken at all.

Anyway, my kids being the smart arses that they are, ran off to do my bidding. On their return, they handed over the camera...the expressions on their faces feigning great anticipation of my reaction. I looked incredulously through the images on the camera. Below are the results.

Ladies and Gentlemen...I give you...*drum roll*...My sons, 15 and 14 respectively....

Picture 034Picture 039

Picture 038Picture 042

I ask you...What's a mother to do??!

She waits in anticipation to send more postcards out all over the world, that's what. If you're yet to sign up for the NZ Postcard my email link below and zap me with your postal address! Please? Can't you see I need you to???
Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Postcards from Down Under

I was over at Butterfly's site yesterday and she has a brilliant idea (well I think it's brilliant anyway), and because I'm so short of brilliant ideas these days, I'm going to steal it for here.

Couple Butterfly's idea with Denny blogging about his world travels and the fact that all my money is going into a trip fund to get my ass back to Canada...I was thinking... what a great way to transport part of me to somewhere else on this earth of ours. Astro-travelling is so last season don't ya know.

Ok, so it's only my handwriting, but it's still me isn't it? And as much as I love the internet and the connections I've made on it, there really isn't anything quite like the handwritten word. And how great would it be to receive something in your letterbox that doesn't come in a window envelope or demand money?? I ask many of you have REALLY won that million dollars that Reader's Digest is always harping on about??

So...have a quick look at my picture on the sidebar it in detail (forensically as well if you feel you REALLY have to)....and hopefully come up with the conclusion that I am not of the stalking/axe murdering variety (besides, I've just stated I have no money, thus I cannot wing my way over there to become your worst nightmare).....and email me your snail mail addy. I will then send you a postcard of a pic pertaining to New Zealand (obviously doh!) and attach my own postal address hoping that you will send me a postcard of where you're from.

Obviously it's not a good idea to put your physical address in the comment section here, that could result in all manner of weirdos sending you shoes boxes of dead animal body parts or worse yet, turning up on your doorstep to quick-step you to an early retirement of drinking all your meals through a straw. (Let's not think about that too long *shudder*)

SO! If any of you are keen to receive a postcard from me, please email me and I'll whizz you one over (as fast as NZ Post will allow). It would be my pleasure to be in touch with you all in such a way.

Surely someone out there wants a postcard from New Zealand...somebody?...anybody?
Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Updated Audio

I have updated my audio over there in the sidebar. I cheated and read the post from yesterday "My Anna". I still have the lisp (not in real life but on this recording programme) so, if you can get past that, hopefully you'll be able to understand what I'm saying. Considering the words I'm reading are on my previous post, you shouldn't have any problem!

I'm still waiting on suggestions of a website or reading that i can use for their wedding people. Come on, someone out there's gotta have an idea of what I can read that will convey how I feel about them. The most important part of it will be that I can get through reading something without dissolving into tears. Sobbing my way through a reading in front of their loved ones will not be a good look. lol

And keeping in line with the marriage thing, I got sent this joke the other day, and feel the need to share it with you:

A woman's husband had been slipping in and out of a coma for several
months, yet she had stayed by his bedside every single day.

One day, when he came to, he motioned for her to come nearer. As she sat
by him, he whispered, eyes full of tears, "You know what? "You have been
with me all through the bad times. When I got fired, you were there to
support me. When my business failed, you were there.When I got shot, you
were by my side. When we lost the house, you stayed right here. When my
health started failing, you were still by my side...

You know what?"

"What dear?" she gently asked, smiling as her heart began to fill with warmth.

"I think you're bad luck, get the fuck away from me."
Monday, June 06, 2005

My Anna

You may have seen me mention Anna, Jason and Jaimee throughout my blog at certain times. Anna is very important to me...she's like family...I've known her for over 10 years and I met her through my brother, when he and Anna were an item for a few years. In fact they were my tenants downstairs, while David went through Police College. We saw a lot of Anna during that time, she spent more time upstairs here with us, than downstairs on her own while he was away training.

As time went by, their relationship ended but my friendship with her did not. We've been tight ever since, both of us there to support each other and laugh and cry at various events that have happened over the years. Anna was also one of the original members of my softball team (NFI), she was the youngest and is one of those sporty gifted people that will ace any sport they turn their hand to. Needless to say, she often put the rest of us to shame, and was referred to as "Our Secret Weapon". She had one of the strongest arms I've seen in the game, and there was many an 'out' taken on home plate, from her throwing the ball from deep centre outfield to me in the catcher's box. I overhead one team captain on the sideline say to her team "Don't forget, don't run if the 'arm' gets it".

I've seen her motoring across the field and catch a ball while almost horizontal in the air...come crashing back down almost face first, find her feet and throw the ball to base and snag the double. I'm often heard referring to her as "My Anna"...and that's how I feel...whenever I think of her, I have an overwhelming sense of pride rush through me, just as I would feel for either of the boys. When they were younger, Anna would babysit them on ocassion, but she was more their friend than their 'boss' when I wasn't around. I've had to yell at the three of them as they're running around the house bodyslamming each other. I've used a similar tone of voice on her as I have with the kids when she's done something that's irritated me...then had to pull myself up on it, for treating her like a child.

As proud as I am at the woman she's become, I could not have been prouder of her last year on April 15. That's the day she gave birth to Jaimee. I've watched her over the past 14 months as a parent to this gorgeous little girl and am prouder still. She's a fabulous mother and wonderful partner to Jason. And Jason...I cannot say enough about how she's managed to strike the jackpot with this man.

She's made my heart ache while I've sat holding her, tears spilling out of her striking blue eyes....made me laugh so hard I've cried....just about made my heart stop, as she's crawled into my bed unexpected at 3am...and made me breathless from dancing all night.

Next year in February, Anna and Jason are getting married. I've been asked to do the reading at their wedding and I feel honoured. I've looked through the internet briefly, yet not seen anything that fits how I feel about these two enough to express it just right on their special day. I've thought about writing something myself and may still do yet, but I'd be grateful for any suggestions you may have.

Anyway, enough gushing, here's a few photos of these special people in my life.


Sunday, June 05, 2005

Music Meme

I've been messing around in my hard drive trying to figure out how many music files I have there. Not many at all actually. And so, here we go with the thrilling meme I was tagged with from the Lovely Lisa some time ago.

Total volume of music files on my computer:
As already stated above, an appallingly small amount compared to the rest of you it seems. In fact only 157 MB, which breaks down to 66 songs. I did have a lot more at one stage but due to being spywared to pieces and some rather explicit pictures of boobs, bums and bits mysteriously appearing before my eyes (not to mention my youngest son's during that time), I gave up downloading music off the net altogther.

The last CD I bought:
Um, to be honest I can't rightly remember. I will go so far as to say it was pretty girlie Shania Twain's "Up" and Delta Goodren's "Innocent Eyes". To try and save some face here, I did also buy Linkin Park and Evanesence, but LInkin Park was for 14 and Evanesence was for 15, who was using it to drum along to. But I still bought 'em alright?

Song playing right now:
At this very second I have no song playing unless you'd like to think the sound of Walker's breathing is musical. Due to the fact that him and I are so often together on the headset, I don't often get to listen to music on here anymore. But I was just managed to sneak in listening to Lemar's "If There's Any Justice" again, before Walker came back from wherever it is he went.

5 songs that mean a lot to me:
This is very difficult. I'm not sure I can come up with 5 songs. Music is so emotive. We hear a song from our past and are transported back to a memory from long ago, albeit a good or a bad one. I'll attempt it anyway.

Please Come Home For Christmas - Eagles
Ever since my parents moved down south, this song has special meaning for me. Christmas is never the same now. Not since the boys and I have been on our own anyway...having my Mum and Dad away at this time of the year leaves a big void in me and gives me the dilemma as to what to do or where to go on Xmas Day. Last year was great...the boys and I tripped off down south...took the car over the Strait on the ferry and arrived at my parents' place at 11.30pm Xmas Eve. Yay!

Everytime You Go Away - Paul Young
At one stage my ex-husband had a travelling saleman job, he was away for a week every month. Everytime I hear this song it makes me think about that time of my life. This song became "ours" for a while. It rode alongside, "One Of These Nights" by the Eagles...that was the song on the stereo the first night we got jiggy with it.

These Boots Are Made For Walking - Nancy Sinatra
I sang this song at my nephew's 21st on the kareoke (yeah yeah, shaddup). It became a bit of a signature song for me with my in-laws cos it was only a few months after my husband and I broke up. One of my brother in laws became such a fan, he constantly tried making me sing it each time I saw him after that (which was alot back then)...I always managed to weedle out of it. Ha!

Anything by ABBA
Because I grew up with this music. I sang and danced to it with my cousin, in my Aunt's lounge...over and over and over again. I knew the words to every song they came out with. Thinking back to ABBA music, brings up the times I sang on stage, the competitions and talent quests I was a part of in my youth. Anytime I hear ABBA now, (which is not often these days) I have an instant feeling of warmth and nostalgia.

You To Me Are Everything - The Real Thing
I love this song. It's upbeat, it's can sing to it easily and dance along even easier. It takes me back to the disco days. I love to sing and dance, and what better time to dance than during the disco era. Bet you can't put this on the stereo, crank it up REALLY loud and NOT feel your body start to move in time to the music...I DARE you to do it! won't be able to help yourselves. Wooo hooo, shake that groove thing! Anna and Jason (Jaimee's parents) have chosen this song to be their 'first' dance song at the wedding next February.

These days I listen to much of anything and everything...I kinda have no choice, my children take over the house in that respect. I'm happy to listen to anything as long as it's not busting my eardrums. Not keen on rap or trance music. I pretty much stick with stuff I can sing and/or dance to. Reading back over this, I do believe I've just shown my age lol.

Ooh, I forgot something, so I had to come back in and hit 'edit'. I have a love of drums, anything that has a lot of drumming through Bonnie Tyler's "I Need A Hero", or the remix of "Oh What A Night" (ok, old stuff again), but anything (including Evanesence's "Bring Me To Life") that has a strong drumming rythmn through it, I'm there. My hips need to move...must be something else I can attribute to my pacific island genes.
Saturday, June 04, 2005

Meat and 3 Veg

My hands are so cold I can barely type today. I've been out of bed for several hours already and I still can't make them work properly yet. Do you think maybe riggamortis is setting in already?

I went out last night with a close friend for dinner. I wasn't that hungry really...not the kind of 'steak and potatoes' hungry anyway, but I bloody ordered that anyway. Scotch fillet steak (extra mushroom gravy), vegetables of the day (steamed carrots, broccoli and cauliflower), and baby potatoes with sour cream. My dinner looked great. Until I cut into the middle of the was raw in the middle. I'm afraid I can't eat meat like that...nope....I'm not one for having blood seeping out all over the plate. I ate a little around it, and thought that maybe I'll just cope with the veges and forget about the steak.

Then it occurred to me.... that steak had cost me $23. Let's face it, I wasn't paying $23 for the veges was I? Bugger that for a bunch o' bananas. When the waiter came back a little later, I told him of my dilemma and said I didn't want to be a nuisance, but would he mind taking my steak and throwing it back in the pan for a bit longer? I couldn't eat it as it was, and I didn't want to waste money I couldn't afford to part with at the moment.

He was very accommodating and after 10 minutes returned with my cooked steak looking like it was a complete new meal with all the fancy trimmings of snow pea sprouts, cherry tomatoes and mushroom sauce. Yay!

The most important part of this exchange with the waiter is - I was so polite and remorseful about sending back the food, when, in my premenstrual state of mind, I could've just as easily thrown it back in his face and hollered "I can't eat THAT! Take it back and bring me something I'm able to stomach!"

So, it's obvious now that I can indeed be nice and cordial should the need arise...or, you could look at it from the other point of view that crossed my mind....and that is, if I wasn't so courteous, the chef may have spat in the pan while he was doing the refry. See? not JUST a pretty smile.
Friday, June 03, 2005

Hair We Go Again...

After my sobbing session in the kitchen yesterday at work, one of the first things I did when I returned to the front desk....was ring my hairdresser and get an appointment with her for this morning. She was able to accommodate, YES! There's nothing like sitting back in a chair and having someone playing with your hair, when you need to wind down right? Or more importantly, when you're feeling in a draggy kinda mood and need the extra lift, getting a girl's hair done is right up there with chocolate consumption and the love of a good Canadian man, to make her feel better. And what about that head massage when the conditioner goes on?? "Oh oh OOOOOOOH! That feels sooooo good....right there, yeah right there...oh God, that's perfect...yeeeeaaah".

So, that's where I've been this morning. She chomped more out of my thick mass, talked about how fast my hair grows and "Look at how bloody thick it still is!" after she'd peeled out her thinning scissors to cut back on bulk and growth. This is after she's plastered my roots with dye, so it matches the rest of my mane. As I mentioned a couple of days ago, I've been blessed with strong healthy teeth. These teeth of mine come to me care of my father's pacific island genes. Thank you Dad. Now we come to the downside of my Dad's ancestry for me....although I'm grateful my teeth are strongly hair suffers. Why?... I'm glad you asked...because my father's hair is white...not grey...but WHITE. Like..."My eyes, MY EYES!" kinda white. This can be a common thing with pacific islanders and their hair...either you can get jet black hair...and it stays that way until you're 103 or however long it takes for the big bongo drumming oofa loofas in the heavens to take you. can go prematurely grey/white.

I know you're all fascinated to read I'll continue. From the time I reached the ripe age of about 24, I got thrown head first into the great swimming gene pool of white hairedness. So for God only knows how long, I've been doing my damndest to avoid it. This means I truck along to my hairdresser regularly for her to deal with my roots. Lucky for me, I have a 15 year old that takes pity on his mother (that's when she's not pissing him off in some shape or form), and will patiently give me the occasional 'home job' to save some bling bling. He will huff and puff about it, but eventually sees the merits in him scratching my back, which in turn can result in me scratching his.

He was sitting in the lounge the other day and I walked past him. I froze....OMG! There it was...shining like a beacon in a sea of dark hair....flaunting itself..."neener, neener NEEEEEENER!" lone white hair...swaying in the breeze of my gasp. My poor baby's always been older than his years, but this? THIS??! Damnit Dad, I sure do love you to pieces, but you're pushing the outta limits of grandfatherly bonding now *sigh*.
Thursday, June 02, 2005

Would the Cry Baby Please Step Forward

I cried at work today.

Not because of anything dramatic with a patient...but purely because I finally cracked (lol). Well, I believe I must be premenstrual, because during all the years I've worked here, I've never EVER cried at work before. NOT EVER (I say that with such emphasis because just about everyone else has at some stage). The frustration of not being able to fit everyone in that needed a doctor, having to turn patients away, a 3 year old that cried almost non stop for 30 minutes...and the final straw for me being the ignorance of one of the nurses (not unusual for this particular nurse, but today I didn't seem to be able to let it slide). I can't be bothered going into all the details of it, but that was it for me.

Annette came back to the desk...took one look at the expression on my face and ordered me to go and have a break (like she has the authority pfft lol). Knowing it was indeed time I vacated the front desk (or I was going to put on a little side show for our waiting 'guests'), I basically went straight for the kitchen....virtually slammed the door shut....and burst into tears. I WAS SO FRUSTRATED!

Anyway, boo hoo hooo....I'm sitting there on my own...thinking how am I supposed to go back out there now that I've just messed my face up. What the hell is wrong with me? Am I really this weak?? No, I'm not. If anyone can cope with anything that happens around here and still's bloody me. That's right, ME!. Soooooo, while I'm pacing back and forth, using a tissue to save what's left of my face, I come to the conclusion I've gotta be premenstrual. There's just no other reason for this debacle.

As most of you that read me know, I despise losing control of any situation. Me crying is not a good makes me feel weak and vulnerable, and could look like I can't handle what's going on around me.

I sit back down...inhale....exhale....inhale...exhale...right, I can feel the control starting to return.

Door opens. In steps the Practice Manager...she gasps..."Oooh, Sara, what's wrong??!"

Sara crumples. (Blah, I almost had it together then!) More booo hooing...."I don't think I'm coping very well with today" I hiccup through my tears.

"Is there anything else that's happening that might be making you feel this way?"

"No, no, ....although I think I might be premenstrual"

"Oooh, well I know that feeling only too well"

For the next few mintues she yacks at me about her own premenstrual problems, and the demon she's seen coming out of her daughter, at that time of the month.

This gives me time to pull myself back together....she has a very soothing voice my boss....and as I listen to her I feel myself relax and returning to my regularly-scheduled-programmed state.....I take a deep breath...I decide that considering this is the first time I've done it at work, I can forgive myself.

"Hey, how ironic is this? After doing all those double shifts and coming out smelling like roses, I fall to pieces when it's all over. Aren't you glad I didn't do this last week before Allison came back from Spain?"

The look of horror on her face at the thought of that, made me burst into laughter.....I thanked her for putting up with me and went back to the front desk, gave Annette a weak smile, and got on with the rest of my shift.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005

A Wandering Post

Hallo Everybardee! (that's my Sharon Osborne impersonation.)

I'm listening to Lemar's "If There's Any Justice" while I'm sitting here wracking my brain as to what to write today. And this song coupled with the recent brain-hurty questions that are being flung at us via Lisa's blog have me wondering.

How many people out there are sitting in unhappy partnerships/marriages out there? How many are bobbling along in their marriages, for fear of not wanting to be alone or for the sake of the children etc?

I spent 15 years with my husband before I finally realised we just weren't the same people we used to be and no amount of compromise was going to get us through the rest of life together. I met him when I was 18...seperated from him at the age of a teenager, the other a much different woman and the mother of two boys. I don't regret this time of my life, not one iota...there's a lot of learning and growing to had in those 15 years. My ex-husband is a good man (for the most part hahaha)....I had basically discovered that after all those years, and the changes that came about...he just wasn't the man for me anymore.

What I'm trying to say here is, I had discovered this a few years before I actually took the plunge to end it...that's not to say I didn't love him during those last few years because I certainly did. Some of that delay was due to us trying to put the pieces back together...and some due to the thought of me trying to make it on my own. How would I cope with it all financially? Would anyone else want me? Would anyone else accept me with two young children? blah blah blah, the list could go on and on. I also felt he had similar thoughts running through his head...that with everything else he was dealing with at the office, he was only still here because it was easier not to cope with all the drama of leaving.

Anytime I took the boys out to do something fun eg, circus, picnics on the beach or at the park etc....I'd look around at other family units and wonder. Wonder if the man with them had been 'forced' to be there...had his wife nagged at him to get him to leave the house? had he been bribed with 'favours' to get him there? or was he there purely because he WANTED to be there? I would go home...look at my husband sitting in the same position I'd left him (couch potato) and wonder why he wasn't interested in spending time watching his children laughing and yelling at each over the sound of the surf at the beach. They're only going to be this age once...why not enjoy this time of their lives and be a part of it? It would upset me at how much he was missing out on.

In all fairness to him...if there was any special occasion they were involved in at school or wherever, he was there if he could be. Owning his own business made him a little more flexible when it came to dashing off from the office to watch the boys sing and dance in the latest school production. For that, I'm grateful he could be there for them. For me, it was about THEM..not was important for me that they see their Dad had made the effort to be there. On the other side of the coin, in times of crisis, he was always there, a rock to lean on...someone I could always count on to pull a rabbit out of the hat...or throw the sun back into the sky for us.

14 said something to me last night that made me think about this again. He said, right out of the blue "You know...Dad seems to be more of a friend to me these days than my father". Although I know, just as 14 knows, that when his father feels the need to put his foot down, he'll sharply turn back into that father figure without hesitation, just like that *snaps fingers*. But for the time being, I enjoyed hearing him say that...I think it's important that our children learn about the other side of their parents...that we're not just Mum and Dad...we are indeed people, just like they are....we make mistakes, we do and say stupid things at times....we fall down and bleed, just as they do.

Above all else, they know they can always depend on us to be there when they need us...they can depend on us to share the highs and lows of their lives with any capacity they want....mother, father or friend. Because despite what they can think of us at times, we have an unconditional love that will never be broken. One day, they'll understand the depth and intensity of this love....that'll be the day we're at the hospital..sharing in the joy of them becoming parents themselves. Until that day arrives, there is no other way we can explain this never-ending tie to them.

Whoa, did I get off the initial subject, or what?? A case of word association I'm afraid. I'll blame it on the fact I haven't taken my medication yet this morning.