Monday, October 31, 2005

My Bloody Weekend

Don't know if anyone noticed, but I managed to get around a fair bit this weekend (not like that). Over the course of the weekend, I read and tried to catch up on each and everyone on my bogroll...and some that are not on my blogroll too. I must recitify that. I have a list on my IE Favourites that I try to visit regularly too, and then I forget to update my template so the rest of you can drop by if you want to.

Besides all the reading, I also did a fair amount of swearing.

I swore as I cooked my french toast on Saturday morning - "Bloody Hell!!"...cos I burnt my little finger on the side of the frying pan (you'd think I'd know how to use kitchen utensils at my age).

I swore after I hung out the washing, and then the rain came down (of course it did, it always does when I bother to hang it outside as opposed to be lazy and throwing it through the dryer.) "Bloody bastard weather!"

I swore when I received a PXT message from my brother....a photo of my new niece, Lyla. "Shit, it's so bloody small!" and "Aaww, she's bloody GORGEOUS!!" I attempted to email myself from my phone..."What's taking it so bloody long to arrive in my bloody inbox??!"


I swore as I attempted to remove the cat spew out of the carpet in the hallway. When you've got cream carpet and the cat's stomach has decided to reject it's orange cat biscuited contents...well..."Houston, we have a bloody problem!"

Let me switch subjects here....(thought I'd try to back pedal for those that could be eating brekky while reading about cat spew)...let's talk briefly about site meters/stat counters etc.

I have 3 attached to my site in various places and for various reasons. One shows me the IP numbers of the last 20 visitors and also lets me see where's they've actually been through my blog. This allows me to see when any one particular IP address is trudging through my archives. I find it quite fascinating that anyone would want to read so much about my blatherings, but there you go. If you've done it, I've seen you...Big Brother is Watching You.

So...maybe some of you saw me snooping around on your site meters? I totally enjoyed my journey through your sites this weekend (there's just no way in hell I can get to you all every day). This resulted in more swearing. I realised how much I missed reading you all on a more regular basis.

My blogroll is bloody fantastic, if I do say so myself. You lot are bloody fabulous writers. I thoroughly enjoyed catching up with you and tried to make a point of commenting on as many posts as I could. I spent more than 10 bloody hours reading over the course of two days.

I think you're all bloody marvelous, that's what you are..."BLOODY MARVELOUS!"
Friday, October 28, 2005

Ouch!...What A Tangled Web We Weave

Today's post is about...well...I don't know. Ya see, I'm sitting here trying to come up with something interesting for you to read.

I'm thinking sex.

Sex sells.

Sex draws in the readers....maybe not for commenting though, because as we all know, there are SO many people out there that like to look at sex and read about sex, but would not like anyone else to know they're looking at or reading about sex.

We know who you are.

Well, ok, we don't, and that's the whole point isn't it?...but we know you're out there...the cyber world is abundant with saucy trollops and drooling stud muffins aplenty.

I believe I've just said the word sex so many times, that should get me several million hits from google, msn and yahoo search engines.

Sex is something I've been without for a while now. It's something that I can take or leave at times....other times (especially like first thing every morning), I can be climbing the walls and wanting to rip my toenails out, for lack of it.

Now because it's been such a long time, I've almost forgotten what it could be like to have sex in the physical world. As much as phone sex rocks (and trust me, it does)...going through the physical motions of some of what's said during those sessions could have me concerned I'm gonna dislocate a limb. Let's take a few examples (not necessarily ones that have been uttered during the last couple of years, but let's just say, I've heard 'em at some stage).

"I'm going to push your ankles back behind your head and...."

um, hello?...I'm not as flexible and slim as I used to be...I just know I'm going to launch a fresh hernia through the walls of my intestine with this one. And the view from the most obvious end? Well...holy puckering arsehole Batman!

"We're in the car, I'm driving....I want you to remove your panties, move across to my lap and mount yourself on my...."

Ok, there are a couple of objections I have to this one...object number 1 - the steering wheel...unless we are both the same width as Twiggy, I can't see this happening without an interesting bruise coming up the following day...across the back of the mounter. Object number two...who's watching where we're going? I don't have a glass chest....are you going to spend your time trying to see around me? What happens if there's a horrific accident? The airbag deploys...my body is smashed up even harder against yours...and...well...we're fucked in a way we never imagined.

"I'm going to *bleep* you so hard, I'm going to *bleep* you through the wall..."

Excuse me?...I just might happen to like that wall there...it stops my son from seeing what his mother is up to...my house is in disrepair enough as it is without adding a giant sized hole in the wall thankyouverymuch. I also believe that should you "bleep" me through the wall as strongly as you say it...my brain goo and skull fragments are going to kiss your chest as the wall is inserting itself through the top of my head.

And don't even get me started on the "torrid sex on the beach" scenario. As romantic and passionate as it sounds, I'm adverse to all that sand getting into all those...er...nooks and crannies. And don't be telling me that you can lay down a blanket to avoid that...sand gets in everywhere regardless. We could be having sex vacuum packed in saran wrap and sand would STILL get in there somehow. You know I'm right!

Now, feast your eyes upon this...



...isn't it gorgeous? Just because I can't get into this position myself, does not mean I can't appreciate the beauty of such artistic nakedness.

Anyway, that's enough for today, I need to get my (so far) sexually uninjured body to work.

I need to earn some extra money...to reinforce my bedroom walls....and to pay for some yoga lessons.

***

UPDATE: My new niece's name is Laila, or Lila...I have no idea how to spell it, but it's pronounced Lie-la. Still don't have any further information besides that. They're still working on a middle name (possibly arguining) about it.

This is going to be my post for the weekend I think. It's been a while since I had the chance to comment on some of what you've written, so I'm going to take the opportunity to not post, and just spend the weekend, off and on, catching up with you all.
Thursday, October 27, 2005

A Special Evening

Thought I'd rush in here to put up a post before I grab some lunch...spend some time with Walker discussing flight times...get dinner organised early...tidy up the mess I left this morning before work (looks like a wirlwind swept through my house)...and go back out the door to watch (read: chase a toddler on the sidelines) of a softball game tonight...hoping to get some pictures, depends on the agility of the todder.

Went to the Celebration of the Arts at the College last night. Some of you will know that Cameron was performing his drumming duet with his mate. It was fabulous...the boys had changed it just slightly...and I tried to take a video of it with my useless camera. My camera wasn't really THAT useless, but the inbuilt microphone was so sensitive that there was a lot of vibration involved in the finished product and most of it sounds like a bloody great big racket. (Oi...I know what you're thinking.)

I was blown away by the talent of what I saw. I sat through piano duets, a superb violin solo....a beautifully harmonious rendition of "When I'm 64" by the girls choir (Fred, you would've loved it!)...several short films that the kids had strung together and produced/directed themselves...some beautiful and elaborate fashion, designed by the students and much more.




Jess
was the final performance of the evening. In the last few months the school have had a lip sync competition and she came 1st equal with another performance. Anyway, last night my jaw hit the ground when she came out from behind the curtain wearing not much more than a shimmering skimpy black dress, a pair of fishnet stockings (garter belt included for all the world to see), stilhettos and long white gloves. She sang a remixed version of "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend" and pranced across the stage, swinging her booty to the point of seeing her knickers (how could you not in this get-up??). Twas a far cry from her debut stage performance as an innocent Cinderella several years ago.





During this time I received a text message from my older sister to tell me my brother had become a father for the first time (and just after I'd sent him this HUGE email yesterday about how excited I was to hear news of when the baby was born.) I don't have a lot of information. They had a baby girl, 7lb something, at 1.30pm yesterday, 2 weeks early. That's all I know thus far...don't even know what her name is yet!

Will get some more news out of my mother later this evening hopefully. Unfortunately my brother and his fiancee live in Sydney, Australia, so I wont get the opportunity to see my new niece for a while. That breaks my heart. *sigh* Just another reason to hate yet another ocean.

But....I'm an Aunty again...YAY!!...let's celebrate!
Tuesday, October 25, 2005

This Little Piggy Went To Market....Eh?...Nooooo!

I had a lovely weekend with my sister and brother in law. My brother in law is a machine around the property. Since my last visit he's finished off the paving out the front of the house, completed some paving to the side of the house and knocked together all manner of new bits and pieces. It always makes my jaw drop when I turn up again to find something new has sprouted or been completed. I've been living in my house for over 15 years now and it's still not finished. There's so much to be done, I have no idea where to start, but visiting these two gives me inspiration to do something, even if it's just trying to tame my garden. That's a hell of alot of taming in case you were wondering.


This is a picture I took at the front of the house....it was such beautiful weather that each mealtime found us out here at the table chowing down. These two have 15 acres of land, over 3000 apple trees, and my brother in law has several containers (you know, like the ones that ships carry from one country to another?) placed at various points on the property around the main house. He has started converting these containers into guest bedrooms. The sides of the containers have been cut out and ranch slider windows put in...each container has it's own bathroom facilities (that's the beauty of having a plumber close by at all times - that'd be him by the way). You can see a couple of the containers in the back of the picture below.


My sister is keen to get chickens...my brother in law not so keen. It would take him no time at all to knock together a chicken coop and it's not like they don't have enough room for it. My sister has dreams of scattering feed to the chickens each morning after she's robbed their beds of freshly laid eggs. Last time I was up there, my brother in law was fairly adamant there would be no chickens forthcoming. This time around he seems less adamant...I think my sister's going to win this one.

One of the highlights for me, was the farm next door. They have lots of animals. Last time I saw a very pregnant pig...we weren't sure if she was actually pregnant...but this time around it was confirmed. There were 6 little piglets, they were about the size of...um...say...slightly smaller than a loaf of bread (sorry, best size thing I could come up with right now, what can you expect, I'm a female, I don't do size *cough*). These little piggies were so damned delightful, and they were running around playing like frisky kittens. I was kicking myself for not having the camera on me. I could've watched them carry on all day...how fantastic to be as carefree about life as this lot were.

Needless to say, I had a wonderful time and came home feeling like I'd just had a hot bath. You know that feeling? You're all warm skinned and lethargic because your body feels so well rested? Yeah, that kinda feeling.

I believe Haloscan has been doing some major brain-farting the past 24 hours, but from what I've seen, should all be back on track now. I'm off to work now (damn Tuesday night shifts!)...hope you've all had a great day.
Monday, October 24, 2005

Leaving, On A Jetplane...

I've just been out. Picked up another book that Walker and I are about to start reading to each other (Going Postal - Terry Pratchett). I was sitting at the mall, eating lunch with Cameron (Ryan chose to stay at home) and then it struck me.

The date today....24th of October.

Today is the anniversary of the day I left Canada. A year ago today is the last time I saw Walker in person....the last time we made love (in person lol)...the last time he held me tight and made my knees go weak when he kissed me.

I have a vivid picture of him leaning against one of the stands in the security area at the airport watching me go through the ritual of pulling my laptop out of it's case, emptying the contents of my carry-on backpack etc. He stayed with me...my head against his chest, his arms wrapped around me as we slowly shuffled along the lengthy queue....until he couldn't go any further, and I couldn't turn on my heel and go back.

I blew him a kiss and waved. I smiled, then turned and walked away...I didn't want the last memory he had of me to be one where my face is all contorted and I'm crying like a baby (if nothing else, I've a nasty vain streak in me at times...who likes that ugly crying face thing? it's hardly attractive right?)

Maybe one day I'll blog about it....maybe not...maybe I just did.

This afternoon, as I think back on that day and the roller coaster of emotions we both experienced...well...it kinda sucks.

It's not an anniversary I'm going to be celebrating anyway.
Saturday, October 22, 2005

Sexually Regrouping

Last night before I ran off for dinner I spoke to Walker on the headset and suggested that depending on what plans he had for the following afternoon, perhaps he would like to ring and wake me up *wink*. "Keep in mind what time I'm waking up these days though ok?"..."Yeah, I know 6.30"..."Cool...better dash...hope to get to talk to you first thing in my morning".

Let's face it, after the post I wrote yesterday, I needed some tension relief. I needed to shake myself off and get rid of that "OMG, GIVE ME THE VALIUM!" mood, and what better way to do that, but with a good hot steamy love session with a few explosive orgasms at the end of it??. Worked for me.

6.30 - No phone call.

6.45 - I pick up the phone and listen, to check that it's still working.

7.00 - I'm thinking. Hm, he's forgotten about the daylight saving thing, so I should expect the call in about 30 minutes from now.

7.30 - I've gotten outta of bed, been for a pee...had a drink...checked the dehumidifer in Ryan's room....climbed back into bed...picked up Kathy Reichs and carried on where I'd left off from last night.

7.40 - Ok...something's obviously happened. He's not feeling well and his neck has been giving him shit the last couple of days. Maybe he's crossed the road and not been able to turn his head properly...and BAM!...a bus got him! OH..MY...GOD!! My baby is lying on a street in Ottawa somewhere and I can't be there to help him!

I was SO traumatised by this thought....that I picked up my book again and continued on reading.

7.50: *ring ring*

Hello?
Hi Baby, I just got in...I've had a busy morning.
Hi Darling...thought something must've been holding you up.
Are you still in bed?
Yep, although I'll admit, I've been up already and came back.
So? Are you naked?
Well, no..I..
What do you mean, you're NOT naked?!
Well, it was cold last night...and besides I've already been outta bed...I wasn't walking around the house naked at this time of the morning...bleech
When I get there you'll be walking around naked all the time...I'm going to be hiding your clothes.
*snort* I'm sure my children will appreciate that.

*BRRRGGGHHH.....CRACKLE...ZAP!*

Ouch, what is that?

*BRRRGGGHHH...I think the...CRACKLE...phone battery's...ZAP!*...going.

I'M HANGING UP NOW! (trying to yell over the racket)

*ring ring*

(singing) Hello?? Is it me you're looking for? (I did that just for you Fred *grin*)
Yes, I've been looking for you all my life
Aaw...how sweet
I've one less phone now though...I just smashed the one I was holding earlier
oh...

Anyway....the conversation went off and on...sex was mentioned...then moved away from for whatever reason....then talked about...then disappeared again...eventually...

I wish I was there right now
I wish you were too....I'm hungry now and could do with a yummy breakfast being cooked for me
That's not what I meant...and I'm hungry too
How can you be? You've just been to Archie's...he's always shoving food at you.
That's not what I meant either *sigh*
Oh right, sorry
When I get to the airport, will you get into the backseat of the car with me?
Yes, because I want to be able to press my body against you and kiss you properly without a gear lever being in the way.
My hands are going to end up on your tits if we're in the back seat you know?
Well, yeah...I don't have a problem with that.
Mmmmmmm
What if someone sees us?
(lost in thought) I want to feel your hand rubbing my crotch while you're kissing me
It's a fairly open carpark, anyone walking past could see us
Come on babe...work with me now
oh, right...I think I'm getting restless waiting for any kind of build up....I want to feel you inside me...I've no patience whatsoever today
Mmm...I love sliding inside your wet pussy
Do you think I've been particularly impatient lately?
Well, yes and no...you've had a lot on your mind recently
I can't wait to get my hands on you again....unzip your jeans and slide my hand inside to feel how hard you are...mmmm
You've been dealing with difficult things at work and now your younger sister's decided to go back to her cheating bastard husband..it's no wonder you're feeling stressed
*sigh* Yes....Do you want to fuck me or not??
Ok, I think we need to regroup
Yes...good idea...let's regroup.

This had to be one of the most stop/start sexual conversations we've EVER had....we kept getting distracted...ok, I kept getting off track and distracting us. Usually, the sexual conversation starts and nothing gets in the way....we're ready...we're primed....we're horny as hell and steaming to partake.

The next 20 minutes was spent with both of us focused and completely back on track....to say that I was vibrating in the best possible way, and hung up the phone totally satisfied, would be like saying that fudge has a smidgeon of sugar in it.

Valium? What valium? Regrouping ROCKS!

***

Have a great weekend all, I hope to check in on your when I get back.
Friday, October 21, 2005

Things That Make Me Go "Aaarrgghh!"

I feel like I can't stretch myself thin enough at the moment. And let's not even talk about the thin and fat issue cos that would sink me to the depths of despair.

I've a friend who's recently been through surgery and I haven't had the opportunity to visit with her at home while she recuperates.

I'm going out for dinner this evening with another close friend who I haven't had the chance to see for a couple of months. I feel knackered and don't want to go out, it's cold and windy, but I'm going...because I know once I'm out there, I'll enjoy her company.

My house is a bombsite. Piles of clean washing to be folded...the ironing board and iron seem to be permanently out, the kids exercise and workbooks for school are taking over the top of my wall cabinet. At least two of my plants have died from neglect. I'm not the world's best housekeeper by any means, but even with my lowly standards I'm feeling overwhelmed.

I haven't seen Anna and her family for what feels like FOREVER, and that's biting my arse too. I need to try and find some time to see them this weekend.

It's a long weekend here in New Zealand (Labour Day on Monday), and I'm going back up north tomorrow to spend the night with my sister at the apple orchard.

I've barely had time to read your posts lately and I don't even know when I'm going to have the time to catch up with what you're all doing. I hate not knowing what's going on in your lives!

Those I have been reading, I've not been commenting on. I hope you've been keeping an eye on your stat counters...at least then you'd know I have been through to read. I have become one of THOSE people....the non-commenting lurkers. I've become the proverbial next door neighbour that stands in her lounge with the lights out, peering at you through the curtains.

The kids are off to their Dad's for the weekend, but Cameron's not been well...he's spent the last two days at home suffering with migraines. Guess my drummer boy's brain can't always handle the drumming.

The good news is...the deputy principal has asked the two boys to play their drum composition next Wednesday evening at the College's Celebration of the Arts Festival. I'm thrilled for him, though he's less than enthusiastic about performing in front of a much larger audience. But he'll do it, because he always does, and his mate's keen, and Cam won't want to let his friend down.

I'm feeling like life is madly racing past me at a great rate of knots and all I want to do is yell "STOP!" As some of you would know, I hate feeling out of control. My life is feeling out of control at the moment.

The word "valium" is starting to sound more and more attractive as it bounces off the walls of my skull.
Thursday, October 20, 2005

My Little Drummer Boy


Cameron is coming to the end of his NCEA Level 1's. This time of year is when all the big assessments and exams begin. Last night was part of his music assessment. Depending on the performance he can build up extra credits to the total he's already obtained so far this year.

Part of last night's assessment was to play in front of an audience. It was a fairly informal gathering, mainly parents and siblings of those taking part. Only around 60 or so people, and it was held in the rather large staff room at the college. He had to give a solo performance as well as a group performance.

I had heard him practice maybe twice (if I'm lucky) at home, so I had no idea what was going to happen. I felt nervous on his behalf. And although I have plenty of faith in my son's ability on his chosen instrument, I felt without the time and effort put in, he'd possibly crash and burn. I sat down thinking "Why does he always think he can just sit down behind that kit and it's just going to happen?" I mentioned this to his father, and the fact that Cam had left his Evanesence sheet music at home. "Aw shit" was his response.

He'd had a few weeks to get prepared for this, yet only the day before he'd burnt to CD the music he needed to accompany his performances. Although his drum version of Bring Me To Life was slightly different and it was obvious he was ad-libbing most of it, he managed to stumble his way though. His self-composed second solo was so much better and played confidently and with so much vigour that his father leaned over to me and asked "Um, when did our son start taking drugs?" It was met with plenty of applause and understandably I was very proud of him. (Yes Fizzy, I will confess I was caught wiping tears away lol)

He played two 'group' performances. For one, he accompanied a friend who played a jazz piece on the piano. The second was a jointly composed effort between him and another drum student...his drumming buddy. The two of them got behind the kit, introduced themselves, and had called their piece "Everything". It was unaccompanied...just pure drums. They bantered between themselves for the sake of the audience, asking each other

"So, are you ready to play Everything?"
"Yeah I'm ready?....But are YOU ready to play Everything?"
"Oooooh yeah, I'm ready"
"Let's do this thing then!"
Cameron counted them in.



From the moment the first pair of drumsticks struck skin, we sat in awe watching. Both of them moving in time with the beat, their sticks a blur. "Everything" was an appropriate title...it was filled with a combination of as many drum 'sticking' techniques as you could think of....it was powerful and passionate and the deep throaty fills from the floor toms richocheted off the walls, causing all that touched those sound waves on their journey to tremble. The two boys were relaxed, they were having fun, and seemed nothing more than two musicians jamming....totally oblivious to the fact they had an audience. The rise and fall of fills across the toms, the timely kick and double kick of the bass...a crescendo of swinging clipped beats, back and forth building to explode in conclusion with the thunderous crash of symbols.

The two boys, breathing hard and grinning at each other....the audience stunned and silent. Then the room erupted with as much whistling, yelling and applause a small crowd of 60 can muster. To say that I was impressed and that he'd put my fears to rest would be an understatement.

Cameron told me later that the music teacher had been so grumpy and stressed out about the evening, she'd been difficult to deal with most of the day....then the two boys had rehearsed their drum piece in front of her and for the rest of the time she was grinning. He said he was thinking "Way Cool...we made the teacher smile!" lol

So....here it is.....I was wrong....and I couldn't be more pleased.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Stink by any other name...

I've just spent the good part of half an hour in the supermarket trying to find Cameron's preferred deodorant spray. I stood in the personal hygiene aisle trying to sniff various mens anti-perspirants...to the point that I think I've killed my sense of smell.

Why do manufacturers of items such as these, insist on changing their packaging so bloody often??! I stood there spraying tiny squirts into a few of the caps that I pulled off the shelf trying to find a match. A shopper cast me a sideway glance....I guess if every deodorant shopper did the same as I was doing, others would find empty cans left on the shelf. Deodorant is a necessary part of everyday life right? Not to mention it can be an expensive one. Keeping that in mind, there was no way I was going to walk away with something I thought Cam would never wear.

So, I guess my little squirting episode this morning could be seen as theft...if we weren't talking stink here, that 'squirting' word could give the illusion of a sexual post. I digress...am I not robbing half an armpit of being stink-free by doing this? I wonder if this is an offense. While I understand that body odour of the worse kind can be extremely offensive, I also believe it's an offense to have a body nearby that has survived a virtual tsunami of the stuff. We all know someone who's very closeness can almost asphyxiate us right? God forbid, we should get caught going up in the elevator with them.

Ah well, who knows? Could I get done for shoplifting for what I did this morning?

Arrest me Officer...make those handcuffs nice and snug.
Monday, October 17, 2005

Todays News

I heard on the radio news the other day that a doctor down south refuses to prescribe any of his female patients with any type of contraception due to his religious beliefs. He's Catholic. He's written to at least 50 of his female patients telling them he can't and won't prescribe pills/condoms etc, and that having a baby is something to be celebrated (or something to that affect).

Ah well, guess his female quota of patients is gonna drop eh?

Reading my monthly copy of the NetGuide yesterday, I came across this article:

"A new condition: Blog Depression.
Blogging can be fun - but the pressure to keep updating it each day can get overbearing. No wonder there is a new mental condition affecting bloggers. It has been coined "blog depression". Sufferers explain the condition, warning signs and steps that can be taken at
this site. Sufferers find themselves "disillusioned, dissatisfied, taking long breaks, and in many cases simply closing up shop". The first case of this ailment appearing in New Zealand could determine if ACC (Accident Compensation Corporation) will pay out."

I'm waiting with baited breath to see if this is going to be a valid excuse for having time off work. But then I have to get depressed about this whole deal first. Which I'm not. But I could try faking it. But I'm not so good at faking things. So we'll see.

I also read (on the same page no less) that there is a new blog being created about every second! Whoa...that's heaps huh? There are more than 80,000 blogs created on a daily basis and the number of blogs are doubling about every 5.5 months!

Oh dear. That's a lotta bloggy people with the potential of becoming depressed!

And apparently (same page yet again) there seems to be an increase in employers firing people who put "inappropriate comments" in their personal blog about their work-place. Shit....you lot better be watching your backs (oh crap, that includes me too). Mr Haney's ok cos he's retired, so noone can fire him, 'cept Mrs Haney...and with the numerous posts he puts up on a daily basis, I'm surprised she hasn't fired his buttola already. I mean to say...that floor would get done a whole lot faster if he didn't keep stopping to type posts right?

I have no idea what we're going to have for dinner tonight...

but that's ok

because I have a whole new set of hubcaps on my car!!

Real, store-bought ones...

not stolen ones.

So who cares about dinner??

We can all sit down in the garage sucking on water-bottles and gaze with great admiration at my car instead!

YAY!!

(See? No need to be concerned about me...I'm far too happy about wheel guards to be contracting a depression of any kind!)
Saturday, October 15, 2005

A Special Moment to Remember

It's that time of the week again....cheating repost time. I have copied and pasted the below post which was originally written sometime earlier this year. As I mentioned last week, I'm taking weekends off, so this will be up for the rest of the weekend. It'll give you plenty of time to think of an answer. So without further ado...here it is.

*****

On the car radio one morning, the DJs were talking about various subjects, as they do…and Polly brought up something that made me start thinking.

She said that she’d read somewhere about what a couple of people had said were their ‘moments’ in life. They were asked if there was any particular moment in life that they remembered that they’d like to play over again.

One was a New Zealand Olympian who’d won a gold medal. She said there has been nothing akin to the feeling she had when she was standing on the podium and hearing NZ’s national anthem being played. The euphoria and pride she felt was indescribable and that is the feeling she’d want to play over again. It was amazing.

The other mentioned, was a man who said that if he had had an affair, and left his long-time partner for this new woman. He said that if he could play that over again, he would change it. The depth of the love he’d shared with his ex partner was something he’s never felt again. It happened 10 years ago and he’s never had that feeling back since. She’s obviously moved on, so it’s too late for him now.

I’ve been going through my mind’s memories to find something I’ve done or had in my life that I’d like to repeat the feeling of...besides the magic of giving birth to both my children...I’ll have to think harder about it. I also wonder if I have to think that hard about it, does that mean I haven't experienced it yet?...when I think back, there are so many things I’ve done or seen that I’d like to repeat again but I can’t choose any one thing in particular.

Do you remember anything in your life you’d like to repeat over again? Anything in particular that stands out in your mind that makes your body adrenalin rush around, or your heart ache or just gives you the nice warm fuzzy feeling and makes you smile?

****

By the way, I do have something that keeps coming to mind, so I'll go first. Something I love reliving the feeling of. It's the feeling I remember when Walker kissed me on the bus during our trip from Vancouver Airport to Power River last year. He kissed me, my heart rate skyrocketed and I melted against him wanting more. When I think about that kiss, my pulse quickens, my stomach does a weird kinda flip flop thing and the heat rushes through me to make my loins ache with longing. I'm never going to forget that kiss.

He's one hell of a talented kisser my man. Regardless of how tired I was or how desperate my body was for sleep, I'd turn to him in bed to kiss him goodnight...his lips would touch mine, my breath would leave me, my knees would go weak and the rest of my body would yell "Let the games begin!!"

Have a great weekend everyone!
Friday, October 14, 2005

With The Push Of A Button

So I listened to this lady's voice one afternoon....she sounded normal, sane...like me(?)...I pushed the appropriate button and sent her a message. Something to the tune of how boring the men were and I was getting tired of listening to the same messages over and over and would she like to chat? We sent a few messages back and forth and eventually she gave me her phone number and I rang.

Over the next several weeks we spoke almost every day. About nothing, everything, anything. It wasn't unheard of for her to be doing the hoovering while I was watching tv or fixing dinner etc....sometimes they'd be no talking...just tv sounds alongside hoovering sounds. I was forever watching the country music channel (yes, you heard it right here people, I happen to like country music, keep your thoughts to yourselves thankyouverymuch)....she gave me as much grief about that as she did about the pair of jandals (flip flops) I had in the back of my closet. For some reason they offend her, sacrificial jandal burning was not beyond her scope, in fact she thrived on it.

It took me a lot longer to meet her in person. Each and everytime I'd try to arrange a meeting, she'd stonewall me. At first I didn't notice it, just figured she was busy that day and that unlike me, she had a life. Then I realised it didn't seem to matter when or where or how the meeting was to take place, she was always busy. Why was it that she HAD to chalk the sidewalk with graffiti THAT day? Was it really going to take THAT long to remove all the doggy doo from her backyard?? Then a thought flashed across my mind...did she not WANT to meet me? Did she not even LIKE me?? How is THAT possible?? Am I not the most likeable person on the face of the whole flippin' planet!??!!

So....one shade away from stalking, I rang her and told her I was going to meet her that day (the fact that I didn't even know her address didn't help of course, but I was determined to get it). I took the boys to a local park and they were happy playing around for hours....I rang her cellphone a few times and asked "Are you home yet?"...eventually the sun went down and the kids were wooshing across the sky on a flying fox or down the huge slide in the dark. I gave up and went home full of despair at failing my Stalking 101 class.

I did eventually manage to meet her. I rang her at home, she answered the phone and I said "Good, you're home, I'm coming around for coffee". That was it. We met, we bonded, clicked, gelled, whatever you wanna call it, we felt it and did it and have been close friends ever since. Eighteen months or so after that first meeting, she honoured me completely by asking me to be Godmother to her new baby son.

During this time I discovered the internet. Well actually Cameron helped me discover it...he downloaded ICQ, put me in a chat room and told me to say hello to everyone. I sat there watching the chat screen zapping up past me, just about going crosseyed trying to read it all. I said Hello. Several people in the room said hello back to me. Wow, how fascinating I'm thinking....as Cameron (9 at the time) is running around the lounge yelling "They're talking to you mum, they're talking to YOU!" As you can tell, he was extremely excited.

Eventually my friend couldn't stand it any longer and got herself a computer and joined in....we had fun, we met some weird and wonderful people online. It was another stage of life opening up for us. A couple of years later I rang her to have a chat and she's really quiet and barely responding to me.

Me: "Alright, what are you doing?"
Her: "I'm playing backgammon online."
Me: "Really? Cool...I use to love backgammon."
Her: "Get online then and come play with me"
Me: "Ok, how do I do that?"

12 months and one Walker later, she's ringing me to say. "Hey, let's go to Canada. We can go to Vegas first on the way, but let's get ourselves to Canada".

To travel across to the other side of the world with a woman I love, to meet up with a man I love?? Who was I to argue with that kinda logic?
Thursday, October 13, 2005

"You May Now Record" *Beeeep*

Seeing as we've been talking about some of my sordid past recently and I'm in a funky kinda mood, I'm going to elaborate and write how I came upon some of that time of my life...those people, those situations...suffice it to say, I learnt an awful lot about myself.

Years ago (7 being a good number) a good friend of mine picked up the phone extension in her home to dial out and found her daughter was already on the phone...listening to a recording. Daughter hearing that mum had picked up the phone, hung up in a hurry, but it was too late, Mum still had the connection open, her jaw hitting the ground. Her daughter had been playing around on a free phone "chat" line. This is basically how it works. You ring the number (one for men, a different one for women), a recording answers...follow the prompts and eventually get to listen to voices of men (or women) or all ages leaving messages for you to answer. If you choose to respond to someone, you pushed the right number and a tape recorded your message, thus sending it down the phone lines to that particular caller. The caller can of course reply and thus, messages can be zapped back and forth.

Now, as you can imagine, there were some half-arsed and completely off the scale messages from sleazoids galore. My girlfriend rang me saying "Hey, listen to this" (3 way calling)..."This is what my 13 year old daughter has been playing around with". Between the two of us that fateful day, my mate and I had a play around on this line ourselves. We rang and messed around, recording silly messages of witty retorts to various 'players'. It was a bit of immature fun, and I swear I was wittier in those days. Now it's a push and a shove to get a witty line outta me. As far as her 13 year old was concerned, it had become a very dangerous past-time. She had been meeting 'men' in person from that phone line, men that much older than her. This went on to cause no end of grief for her Mum and a downward spiral of self-destruction for this confused young teen.

ANYWAY, (I'm getting there, promise)....if there was one time of the day that I missed having the company after my marriage ended, it was the night times. Yep, you guessed it, I started ringing this phone chat line on my own. I spoke to some very interesting people over the phone via that avenue....some real nutbars and others who were in a similar predicament to myself...lonely and looking for someone to wile away the time talking to. It wasn't unusual for me to spend hours upon hours on the phone at night talking with someone. At times I'd often feel it was my lifeline to the normal world....I felt it kept me sane by communicating with other adults during a particularly difficult time. "Normal" being a hugely operative word in that statement.

Once I'd spoken to them often enough and felt comfortable enough I'd actually end up meeting them in person. The majority of the time I was never keen to bother going that far, just happy to talk to them over the phone. Noone ever knew where I lived and I'd either meet them in a public place for coffee...or stop in for coffee at their place (yeah I know, I can hear ya). Being confused and teetering on the brink of "the good girl that never rebels but wants to at least give it a try", I eventually fell over the edge and slept with a few men. After speaking to someone for hours on end over the phone, I could often feel I knew enough to know whether I wanted to meet them or not. I also felt I was ready for my next adventure and seeing as sex had dried up, I took the plunge. To my way of thinking (as naive as it was at the time), this was almost an ideal situation. I didn't have to yell at someone over the sound of music in a bar, I didn't have to go through all the awkwardness of small talk...we'd already been through all that, just not face to face. I didn't want a full on relationship with anyone....why would I? I'd had that, I needed the time to breathe.

This was an interesting learning curve when it came to "breathing", I can tell you. When I felt ready (this could be a matter of days, sometimes weeks), I'd arrange to meet him on a night when the boys were at their Dad's. Long as the kids were nowhere nearby it felt ok....long as it was well away from my general stomping ground and noone I knew was privvy to seeing me out with someone, it was all ok as far as I was concerned. It was like living a secret life...a dangerous and exciting life that would make friends jaws drop if they knew what I was doing. I slept with 5 men in less than 6 months (altogether now "Skank!")...well one of those men I didn't sleep with until at least a year after I first started talking to him, but there's a good (more bad) reason for that, and I'll get to that another time.

I met many people via that phone line....I met them, didn't sleep with them all...that woulda had me walking like John Wayne. I went out for dinner with ladies and men at various times over the course of those months. I got phone 'stalked' by a young man I slept with once, it went on for several years to the point of having to file a police report....and ended up in some situations I'd much rather forget. I met some extremely lovely people that way, and I met some downright nasties too.

One day, becoming completely bored with listening to the men and their recordings, I hung up and dialled the other number....the number to listen to the ladies and what they were saying. I met someone that day who became very special in my life, still is to this day...little did I know that she was going to eventually change the course of my future.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005

The Call of the Wild

It's that time of the month again. You know? That time?

I know this because my breasts are sore, my body feels exhausted, and I'm ready to climb the walls today with the need of a good romping steamy session. I also know it's that time because there are horrible words jumping out of my mouth and my stomach has a knot in it that makes these words come about. It sends a signal to my brain.

Stomach: "Yo, Brain! Stomach here...it's time."
Brain: "Time?"
Stomach: "Yeah you know, time to get nasty."
Brain: "Nasty? Why?"
Stomach: "Because it's time, that's why! Every part of the body is pissed off right now, you gotta make sure you're sending them all the right information ok?"
Brain: "Oooooh...that time."
Stomach: "Hallelujah....you finally get it."
Brain: "But she's feeling really horny right now...I'd rather go with that."
Stomach: "No no nooooo!...Don't you see? All the hormones are zapping and zinging around, confusion's at an all time high, it's perfect." *snicker*
Brain: "Aaww, that's just plain mean."
Stomach: "yeah yeah, whatever Dude...just don't forget to tell the eyes to go into tear overload too ok?"
Brain: "Yeah, ok." *sigh*
Stomach: "Cool...Later!"

***

M was unaware that the new contraceptive pill she had been given contained a high level of testosterone. Her husband, B, quickly learned the valuable art of ducking from flying plates and other airborne objects during M's PMT phase. He also redisovered his childhood facility for the short-distance sprint. Interestingly, M's parallel parking abilities - or lack thereof - no longer started arguments, however. They improved dramatically on this pill.

Blood tests eventually revealed M's testosterone excess and she changed to a pill without it. Within a month, her mood swings had virtually ceased, but now B felt he was living with a librarian studying to be a nun. Another change of pill raised her testosterone level back up to a happy medium. Much safer for both their marriage, and the household crockery.

****

Hormones have a lot to answer for don't you think? *mutter mutter* Little bastards.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005

From One Extreme to the Other

An 87 year old lady passed away a couple of weeks ago and one of our patients (Mrs S) came into the surgery last week, asking me if I knew her. I told her I did, but not very well. Mrs S went onto say that she didn't much like going to funerals and made a point not to attend them these days. Due to her being a close friend of the family, the departed's daughters had convinced Mrs S to go. Well Mrs S, came away from that funeral feeling quite bouyant. The lady didn't want a morbid sad funeral service and had told her family she wanted it to be like a party.

They'd respected her wishes, and the guests had a wonderful time. They had balloons and streamers and upbeat music etc. It was a total celebration of her life. The tears shed were in memory of laughter and fun times they had shared with her. Mrs S is a character all of her own, she's 83 years old. She dyes her hair orange, wears bright colours and has a sassy attitude to match. I can't help but be drawn to her.

The first time she came in after I started, she came up to the counter and introduced herself, wanted to know who I was, what nationality I was, did I have any children etc. A few minutes later an eldery gent came through the door, an old beaten hat on his balding head, a flower fresh out of the garden pinned to his jacket. She said to me "See that? That's my husband. Isn't he gorgeous? You keep your hands off him. He's mine".

I've watched Mrs S physically deteriorate over the years...her body seeming to shrink within itself. Her voice is still strong as ever and there is no shortage of smart arse quips and laughter in the waiting room while she's there. I've even scolded her for scaring some of the other waiting patients, with her graphic stories of blood tests etc. This is one time I don't mind the doctor running behind. It means I get to have the company of this adorable eccentric woman for longer.

Another of my favourite elderly patients came into see her doctor yesterday. Her name is Mrs T and she's 95 years old. When I first started working at the surgery, Mrs T used to come in and see a different doctor...Dr J. One day Dr J wasn't available for her to see, so I talked her around to seeing Dr R instead. We all feel a little odd about seeing a different doctor if we have to, sharing such personal information with someone else can make us uncomfortable and nervous. This is especially so for the elderly. Most of them have had the same doctor for over 40 years if it's possible.

Mrs T came to see Dr R that day. She went home afterwards and rang me. Said she felt there was a definite 'thing' between her and Dr R and would it matter if she changed permanently to seeing him instead of Dr J? She then booked into see Dr R for next month, but made sure that I made the appointment during a time that Dr J wasn't working because she didn't want him to see her going to a different doctor. Dr R is about 6'2" tall, blonde, around 38 years old...a good looking man. Why wouldn't this, then 91 year old, want to be seeing him more often?? I occasionally tease him about being the pinup hero for the Blue Rinse Brigade.

Mrs T is as deaf as a post. Anytime, anyone of us in the surgery is heard yelling down the phone line to someone, we all know they're talking to Mrs T. Yesterday before she went into see the doctor, she sat in the waiting room for a good amount of time 'talking' with a 3 year old girl. I don't know if either of them could actually understand what the other was saying, but there was a fair amount of sign language, pointing and gesturing, head nodding etc going on. It was enough for both of them to enjoy their time together. I watched them, thought about the extreme difference in their ages and marvelled at how wonderful the instant connection they had with each other was.

After Mrs T had been to see the doctor, she came out rummaging around in her purse to pay. She started shaking and wobbling around trying to grip the reception counter. My co-worker and I froze for a few seconds watching her....then we both moved at the same time....Sue ran off to get the nurse and I ran around to the other side of the desk calling the doctor's name. I didn't yell for him, but the tone of my voice was enough to get him out of his office and to reception just as Mrs T collapsed against me. The doctor drew his patient towards him and held her as the nurse moved the wheelchair, placing her in it.

Mrs T is ok, she came round fairly quickly, the doctor re-examined her...the nurse gave her a cup of tea and she rested for a while until she felt ready to stand on her feet. I don't know how the doctor's deal with their patient's dying, but I take my hat off to them for coping. I know Dr R was upset at what happened although he didn't show it....I told him later "Just think how excited Mrs T would've been had she been conscious enough to know her beloved Dr R had her in his arms".

I know that one day I'm going to have to deal with Mrs S and Mrs T passing on at some stage. I know that I'm not going to like it one bit, and I feel sure that when it happens...although I've come close in the past...it'll be the first time I've cried over the death of a patient.

People come and go in our lives, we pick and choose what we learn from them, and we/they move on. Then there are those extra special ones that come in and make such an impression on our hearts we want to hold them close and never have them leave.

It's with pleasure, that I share with you today, two such people in my life.
Saturday, October 08, 2005

Weekend Blogging

I've decided that on the weekends I'm going to drag up some of my old posts, from way back there at the beginning, and repost them. I've also decided I'm going to take a break from writing at the weekends. With summer coming up and softball season starting I'll have less time to blog.



I'm not playing this season, but will still be involved, in a small, angelic, 18 month, curly-haired kinda way.






Oh, and one more thing, I may not be writing anything for the weekends, but I'll still be reading. I have to read. Missing out on what you lot are up to would leave me sleepless at nights wondering what's going on in your lives. And we all know what I'm like without sleep right? Yep..nasty. Like, "OMG, get the fuck away from me" nasty, and 'pulling-your-bottom-lip-over-your-head-painful' kinda nasty. So, to preserve the sanity of those nearest and dearest to me, I'll still be reading you. (They'll be SO relieved!)

Right, here's my first "weekend repost". I reckon that considering the bashing I've given my ex this week about dumbass stuff, it's only fair that I show you I have been just as stupid although in a different, no less dangerous, way.

***

I've been thinking about some of the situations I've put myself in after my marriage broke down over 6 years ago now. Was wondering if others had done some of the unnecessary things I did after I asked my husband to leave the house.

I seem to become obssesed with men (actually, I know I did). My closest friend was brilliant, she never rolled her eyes (not that I saw), never told to "get a grip and get over it", and in fact one of my other friends seem to thrive on living through my single life at the time. When I think back now I'm horrified at some of the things I did. Not the usual kinda thing you'd expect from a 33 year old mother of two to be up to.

I never did anything too seedy, but for me...it was quite out of character to be going to strange mens homes and eventually ending up in the sack with them *shudder* (now how far away from "not seedy" is that really? about a millimetre??). One chap was shorter than me (no offence to shorter men), he had about 15 pins in his knee and dragged his leg along like Lurch off the Adams Family. I have no idea why I even slept with him, I felt no attraction to him whatsoever...his whole attitude put me off. I chose not to stay the night there, which set off a whole course of events....he became instantly depressed, told me he couldn't cope with it anymore and he would ring me later if he was still alive.

I was out of there...after hearing that, there was no way in hell I would've been sticking around. Got out to my car..it was absolutely pouring down...car refused to start (of course it did)...it was sitting in a dip in the road, so I couldn't even crash-start it (all things that had to be taken into consideration at 1am that morning). I needed a phone....nothing short of a scud missile was going to get me back in that house, so I trudged off down the street to find a light on in a neighbouring house.

Knocked on yet another stranger's door....big, no, HUGE dark man answers the door....I'm shaking and close to tears, asking to use the phone...he allows me inside and out of the corner of my eye, I see him step out onto the porch and look up and down the street. I ring a good friend and ask her to come and collect me, she knew where I was, I'd given her all the details before I took off on my 'adventure' that evening. Now, this particular friend is absolutely useless at driving at night time, let alone when it's hosing down..course, in my emotional state at the time, I never thought about any of that...I just wanted to get home!

I thank the kindly gentleman and make my way back out into the dark street, waiting in anticipation for my friend. 20 odd minutes or so later, I see car headlights coming down the street "oh thank god" I'm thinking to myself...I see my friend coming towards me....and then I see my friend driving straight past me. Oh lord, how could she possibly have missed me?? I was the only person standing out on the street at that hour of the morning.

Anyway, after actually standing in the middle of the road and waving my arms about she found me on her return drive down the other side of the street. We drove home, mainly in silence, some laughter about how stupid it all was etc etc. (My brother is a police officer, and I just knew what his reaction to this was gonna be, best I didn't tell him. Telling him how gorgeous he looked in his uniform wasn't going to cut it this time).

Backtracking very quickly to that afternoon, I just received a slat bed, it was late, so I had propped it up against the wall in my bedroom to deal with the following day (or so I thought). Soooo, after all that, my girlfriend and I found ourselves screwing my new bed together at 3am that night. Shoulda been the only screwing I was doing.

I never played softball that next day. I rang the coach and bowed out, said I was unwell and couldn't make it. I spent most of the day in bed with the covers over my face trying to hide from the world.

****
Friday, October 07, 2005

Stop and let me tell you...

I'm going to write one more post this week about my ex-husband and his drinking/driving habit, and then I'm done for a while.

(Rewind my life back 7 years.)

Both of us played softball for the same club. Which wasn't such a bad thing when it came to who's weekend it was with the children because it meant that regardless of which parent they spent their weekend with, they always got to see both of us at some stage. It also meant I could keep a discreet eye on his drinking.

One time when it was his weekend with the children, I watched him drinking at the clubrooms...I knew he'd gone well over the limit. At one point I even went and sat down beside him...he KNEW why I was there, and it had nothing to do with the small talk we were making. It's possible that this fuelled his resolve to do whatever he wanted, that it was none of my business etc...he continued drinking. If his girlfriend had not been drinking I never would've said anything. But as it was, she was matching him drink for drink, which meant one of them was going to be driving my kids, more than likely my ex.

After much chewing on my bottom lip, I went and spoke to both the children. Said something to the tune of "You two can come home with me tonight ok? Dad can come and pick you up in the morning so you can all enjoy some time together". They asked why. Never lying to either one of them before I said "Because I think Dad's had a bit too much beer tonight and it's safer for me to drive you...I'll just go and talk with him now about it. You two wait here ok?"

I didn't want them anywhere near us while I spoke with him. I have to admit, by this stage, I had no qualms whatsoever about being undiplomatic. I went up to him and said

"Hey, I'm off now..just letting you know I'm taking the boys home with me tonight".
"Oh?....Why?"
"Because you've had too much to drink tonight...come and pick them up in the morning".
"I see...do you really want to go down that road?"
"Yes actually, I do"

There ensued a small scene in front of clubroom patrons. There were no raised voices. At this point the whole conversation was conducted back and forth with low, steely voices but it was obvious something was definitely going on with us. For the first time in our history, I stood my ground against him without bursting into tears. I hate confrontations with a passion but I wasn't going to back down, come hell or high water. I didn't give a fuck who was watching, I was right and he knew it.

Unfortunately, we were interrupted by Cameron. My ex-husband's girlfriend had found where the children were sitting waiting, and told them that their mother was asking for them. This was one of the few times I've wanted to make a fist and smack someone in the face. I couldn't believe she deliberately made a point of putting them right in front of our 'discussion'.

Ryan was torn between staying with his Dad, and coming home with me. He (Ryan) refused to move from the seat he was now sitting on. I had to physically pick him up and carry him on my hip before I could leave. Cameron, thought I was only going to take Ryan with me, and leave him behind with his father.

He still insisted on taking them. I told him that should he get behind the wheel with my kids in the car tonight, the cops would stop him at the bottom of the drive. My brother was (and still is) a police officer...it would've given him no end of pleasure to be the one stopping him. I can't say how he would've reacted if he'd found the two nephews he adored in the back seat. I do know, it wouldn't have been pretty.

I walked out of the clubrooms that night, carrying my 7 year old, leading my 9 year old by the hand and hearing their father tell me he'd see me in Court. I called back over my shoulder..."Bring it on". I managed to keep it all together until I got halfway down the stairs. Until that time I had been continuously talking to the children, trying to make them smile...told them how they could have some fun with Dad in the morning.

Ryan stopped me mid-sentence when he quietly interjected. His words had me gritting my teeth, my stomach fighting to recoil, and the tears start silently lacing their way down my face.

"Mum...You just broke my whole heart".

I've never forgotten those words, and although it sounds dramatic, still thinking about them today makes me want to weep.

The three of us slept in the same bed that night.
Thursday, October 06, 2005

The Domino Affect: Part Two

*Ring, Ring*

"Hello?"
"Hi"
"Where are you?"
"At the police station"
"Oh...right...Are you ok?"
"Yes, just feeling very foolish...Can you please ring this lawyer" (reads out the name and phone number of a lawyer from a list the cops had given him.)
"Now??"
"Please."

Ex-hubby secured the vehicle and left the scene (yes I know you already know that). He walked up the street toward home.

In the back of the car, behind the driver's seat was a six pack of beer. It'd been there for several weeks already, and he chose to use this night to take advantage of it. He took a couple of cans, made sure others saw, and wandered up the road toward home drinking. See, he figured, once he got home, if the cops came pounding on the door, he could then answer it with the can in his hand thus proving he had alcohol in his blood...which was supposed to throw their accusations of drunk-driving out the window. Pfft.

During that short walk, he changed his mind, and came back down the opposite side of the road, went up a side street that overlooked the top of the Gorge and it's traffic lights. In other words, he was now further up the hill, looking down on proceedings. The hill had native bush growing all over the side of it. (I have no idea if you're still with me now, but I'll keep going anyway.)

He sat down, amongst the bushes, drinking his can and watching what was going on with the cars, waiting for the cops to turn up and take statements etc.

BUT...he obviously wasn't expecting the unexpected. (Of course he wasn't, how can you, right?)

Not too long beforehand the police dog wagon had been called out to a suburb about 15 minutes away. Due to his absence from the scene, not to mention his absence from home....it had been asked to stop off at the Gorge, on it's way back into town.

So...while my ex-husband was sitting (hiding) in the bushes, minding his own business (well he was, wasn't he?), quietly drinking his beer....he got one hell of a shock when he was jumped from behind by a police dog. His shirt was ripped (again), his arm was bruised and that was the end of that. *clink*

He spent the night in a jail cell, went to court the following morning, and was told by the Judge that calling in the dog was above and beyond necessary. He was also told he could bring charges up against the police if he so desired because of it. He chose not to. By telling the Judge that he was taking evasive action, he actually got off the charge of dangerous driving. The young guys that he was racing up the hill that night, had continued on through the traffic lights without incident, so they were gone, never to be seen again.

He lost his license for 12 months, had to pay a large fine....and the repair costs of three cars was in excess of $15,000. This all happened 2 days before Christmas and I was pissed in a way that had nothing to do with alcohol. Probably something akin to how the lawyer felt when I rang him after midnight.

Within 10 months, I had to ring that same lawyer, at almost exactly the same time of night for a similar incident.

The interesting thing is, after all these years, my ex-husband still occasionally asks why our marriage ended. Perhaps you could give him some idea via my comments! lol
Wednesday, October 05, 2005

The post that wasn't, but is anyway.

Morning :)

I had the most wonderful start to my morning today. I rang Walker at 6.30am my time, he was still in bed...how perfect was that for me? A number 10 perfect, that's what. Needless to say I'm purring now. But, you don't wanna know about that, so best move onto something else that won't make you utter "Eeew, you dirty skank" at the screen.

Before I start my post today, I thought I'd do a bit of blog pimping and whoring. You know...promoting someone else's blog and my own. I figure if I do both in the same post, it kinda cancels out the desperate neediness I feel for my own. Kinda. Sorta. Yeah ok, it doesn't.

First up, unless you're still living in the past, we're in the midst of a new week (it's Wednesday on this side of the globe). This means the Clix counter has been renewed, so your vote would be much appreciated, thanks. Just clicking on this link will register your vote, you don't have do anything else. See? Easy peasy.

I'd also like to promote a couple of blogs I've been reading. The first one is Fred's. Fred lives in Belfast, Ireland and most every morning (Belfast time) at 10am he posts a quiz. For the competitive bloggy people out there, this can have you revving your engines, the adrenalin roaring through your veins. Once Ireland change their clocks back, this will mean that either I stay up til 11pm Kiwi time to compete or I wait until the following morning before I subject my brain to such teasers.

Attempting to deal with it that late at night has seen me drawing hexagons and pigs at a feverish rate (don't ask). Last night I sat here again with pen and paper, tongue sticking out the side of my mouth, drawing up a grid...twisting my brain cells til they screamed for release "You just have to hang in there a little longer guys, I think I've almost got it". And saying that, it's kinda fun to be bashing your head against the desk, so I recommend you have a go.

The second blog site I wanted to bring to your attention is Isla's. Isla is a good friend of Fred's and she's recently started up her own site. As I'm sure most of you are aware, when we first start off we spend a lot of time in front of the screen checking to see if anyone's commented. Oh...ok....maybe that was just me. So, in the hope of helping to give her a push and shove into the blogisphere I'm promoting her on here. I've always felt that commenting on blogs is a reciprocal thing. You comment on mine, I'll come over and pay you a visit and comment. Which is what I'm about to do now. Visit you that is...and comment I mean. Shit, I'm getting off the subject at hand, yet again.

Back to Isla.

*holds up placard* "VISIT PAINTING A VULGAR PICTURE" (how can you not want to go there with a title like that?)

"This blog is p*ssing me off something rotten" <--- that's the first sentence of her last post. Should you make your way over there, I recommend this particular post.

Well, I think I've actually written enough for now....so you'll have to wait until tomorrow for me to complete the post about one of my ex-husband's dumbass moments. That's one of his moments, not one of my ex-husbands, I only have one ex husband, who's had several dumbass moments, and that was just one of them...um...time I gave up the explanation thing...being that you're all so intelligent I know you knew what I meant. You did, didn't you?
Tuesday, October 04, 2005

The Domino Affect

Due to the fact that I'm at a loss as to a blog subject today, I shall pick on my ex-husband again and write about him. One of the good things about ex's are they're great blogger material, and they're no longer here to defend themselves. Yes!

My ex-husband is a good man...he's become a good father and Dad to his sons, and he's an extremely intelligent man...but....he can do some god awful dumb things...dangerous and stupid things. The kind that made me want to lodge a meat cleaver in his brain for having such dumbass moments.

As some of you may be aware, my ex drank and drove on a regular basis. It didn't matter how much I offered to pick him up or if I suggested he should perhaps stay the night at his mate's instead, he always made his way home. Ok, let's face facts about staying the night at the mate's thing...I certainly would've preferred he stayed away after a night out drinking up large, he wouldn't have to drive home and I could greet him the following day when he was sober and smelling more desirable.

One such night he was in town with a good friend who was only in the city for the evening. This friend was THAT friend...you know what I mean? He was the one that I always inwardly cringed about my husband going out with. Each and every single time he went out with this chap, he'd come home in a shocking state of affairs. Together they had a history of drunken stupors, black eyes, ripped shirts, broken noses and oh yeah, there was the time when they both came back, bombed out of their minds, hubby crashed in bed, stinking and snoring loudly beside me....his mate, crashed promptly on the sofa and woke up the next morning to find he'd peed in his sleep. On my fucking sofa!

I digress. After a night out on the town with his mate....he actually made the decision to leave his mate to it and come home earlier than normal (about 11pm). Driving of course. Accelerating up the 3 lane Gorge, a car of youngsters pulled alongside him...the 'look' passed between drivers and the challenge was on. He put the pedal to the floor and raced up the steep hill. Now, at the top of the hill at the time, there were traffic lights. My husband come over the curve of the rise, the younger man was slightly in front and chose this time to make his move by pulling his car over to get in front of my husband's car. Hubby realising that this manouevre was not going to work, pulled to the side to avoid a collision.....the traffic lights coming fast.

Ah, but the lights were green, what luck!

Oh, but there were a couple of cars (one in front of the other) going through the lights in front of the two racing vehicles.

But the lights are green.....so the cars must be moving.

Uh...Nope.

The lights had only just turned green in the split second that he'd looked at them....the two cars were actually stationary...both of them had yet to even press their accelerators to move.

Uh oh.

There was a loud, long, squeal of brakes.

*Crunch!...CRUNCH!....Crunch!*

***

*knock, knock, knock*

It was midnight, I was in my dressing gown, and I opened the door to find two police officers standing before me.
My heart dropped to my feet. I braced myself and waited.

Police: "Sorry to disturb you Madam. Does Mr Blah live here?"
Me: "Yes, he's my husband. He's not home right now though."
Police: "There's been a motor vehicle accident at the top of the Gorge."
Me: *the colour drained from my face* "Uh..."
Police: "Unfortunately, he left the scene of the accident. If you should see him soon, could you please ask him to get in touch?" *hands me card*
Me: *breathing again.* "Yes, of course."

They turned to leave.

Me: "Uh...could you please tell me what happened?"
Police: "The car he was driving went into the back of a vehicle waiting at the lights, which in turn went into the one in front of that."
Me: "Was anyone hurt?"
Police: "Amazingly enough, no. He secured his vehicle by pushing it onto the centre of a traffic island, and left the scene."
Me: "Oh....well, thank you officers....I'll be sure to pass your card on and see he gets in touch."
Police: "Your husband gave his contact details to the other drivers....they both said they thought they smelled alcohol on his breath."
Me: "I see."

The relief of him being unharmed brought the colour back to my previously pasty complexion.

I remember walking down the hallway to the bedrooms. For a long time I stood there, gazing at my sleeping children. They were 3 and 4 years old at the time.

Then the anger started and REALLY made the colour come back.

He never came home that night.

Where do you think he was?
Monday, October 03, 2005

Sleep Deprived Brain Waves

I've taken the day off due to Cameron having an EEG this morning at the hospital. He's been having some strange eye 'thing' going on for a few years now (I KNOW..a few YEARS!) and although he'd mentioned it occasionally, he'd never really given me any great detail and I figured it was due to malnutrition or whatever, cos I can be such a bad mummy when it comes to providing nutritional sustinance for my offspring.

The last thing I wanted to do was hear the pediatrician tell me it was my fault he was like that. So I did nothing about it. Ok, that's not the real reason, I guess I put it down to a variety of things, none of which I can think of right now, but they seemed justified at the time. It wasn't until he said earlier this year "I used to think that maybe everybody had those black clouds flashing across their eyes every other day or so..until I asked some of my mates at school". I was like "EH?!". That's when we went into a lot more detail about what was happening, what he was feeling and how often etc.

Anyway, after a couple of appointments with the doctor, and then the hospital, today he went in for the EEG. He lay down on the bed while she stuck electrodes to his head and heart with something akin to concrete glue. I know what this stuff's like, I've had a couple of EEGs myself...the stuff dries like porridge and pulling them off afterwards can hurt like a son of a btich. But then he's got less hair than me, so maybe it didn't pull so much.

This was a sleep deprived EEG, which basically means, he can have very little sleep (up to 5 hours) the night before. I told him last night, if there was any night he was allowed to stay up all night, this was the time to do it. I also mentioned this might be a good time for him to go for a trek down the road for a hubcap. I know I've harped on and off about it to him over the past few days, but truth be told, if he tried that lark, I woulda kicked his arse good and proper and he knows it. lol

Apparently they can detect more if you're sleepy. I stayed up as long as I could with him...then went to bed after midnight. He got to sleep at 3am, woke up at 5am....came and poked me awake at 7am. She stuck 35 electrodes on his head. Once they were all in place, I glanced at the computer. "Oh no! The screen is blank, you have no brain Cameron!". He rolled his eyes so far back in his head at that remark, I thought they'd never come back down.

Me: "I wish I'd brought my camera with me."
Cameron: "Why?"
Me: "Because then I could take a picture of all those colourful wires stuck to your head...not to mention that girly hair tie that's holding them altogether."
Cameron *snort* "Yeah right, I'm sure I'd really appreciate THAT."
Me: "Yeah, my bloggy friends would too I reckon."

His eyes disappeared again.

I found it quite interesting actually. I got to sit there watching his brain waves bouncing up and down on the computer screen while the technician told him to open and close his eyes etc. She then asked him to start hyperventilating for about 3 minutes, until he was weazing to the point of me thinking "why the hell didn't I think to bring his ventolin with us?". Then he got to lie completely still and do nothing for 20 minutes while she watched the brain waves moving across the screen. When she said it was time to start the strobe light going, I vacated the room. I have partial left-brain(?) epilepsy seizures myself, so strobe lighting is a problem for me. I was outta there.

We'll be notified by mail once the report is done. God knows how long that will take, but considering how long it had taken us to get to this point, a couple more weeks won't matter will it?

We got home to find Ryan in exactly the same position we'd left him earlier...sound asleep and oblivious to the fact he'd been alone in the house for a couple of hours. This is a good thing, Lord only knows what he would've done with all that freedom.

Trust me, when your 14 year old son comes home one day and asks..."Mum? When's the next time I'll be alone in the house? Like, when you're working and Cameron's working?"...after spending a couple of hours at the park with his girlfriend...your mind goes into Operation Alert Mode.

I know my brain waves must've gone from flat lining on the screen to jumping right off the scale after processing THAT question.