Happiness Is.... #8

Happiness Is....

Reading back your writing, from yesterday, last week, last month or even last year, and smiling in happiness. The smile that means 'contentment' 'satisfaction' 'joy' and 'pleasure' in reviewing your own work.

That, for an aspired writer (never mind aspriring writer, I'm the King of the Jungle in astrology for pete's sake - by the way who is pete??) is absolute gold. So rewarding. The feeling of love just rises up from inside.
:):):)

That's happiness.

WTF?

Ok, this post is completely random and is going to make absolutely no sense, with my whole writing-in-code thing again (I know random, who would have guessed, duh?!)

Ok, so I have all these thoughts going through my head, having just been trawling through the crap of pile that more often than not is the net.

Firstly:

I know that there are ideas and opinions, values and designs out there, that are naturally going to be repeated elsewhere, somewhere in the world, by pure coincidence. All ideas and thoughts, stories and the such are repeated like this. History repeats itself, we get the same boy and girl story over and over again but re-hashed in different ways, told in different languages, themes and contexts.

HOWEVER

If you for example, like one thing, then don't go and copy that thing and try and pass it on as your own. That's plagiarism, that's an invasion of copyright.
That's a freaking pain in the arse.
Seriously though. So I like the Twilight books right? And most of my family and friends KNOW I like the series, have read the books, watched the movies, etc. And then imagine, that this STORY I'm writing, well I come up with an 'original' idea where there is a werewolf, a vampire, and a girl.
And the girl likes the vamp. But the wolf likes the girl.
Sound familiar (DUH!)

It wouldn't be 'original,' because I didn't come up with it! Must I spell the stupidity out? That saying "imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" is complete bullshit. Anyone who has had someone copy them for a portion of their life knows how unbelievably infuriating it can be, having someone pass off your work as their own.

AHHHHH! Please, be original, or piss off!

SECONDLY:

Can everyone please learn how to spell here? Perhaps there are those out in blogger land that need to go back to the basics. Kindergarten A B C.....

Just because it's the net, and you don't have a teacher grading you, it doesn't give you the right to slander poor passers by with your abhorrent disregard for spelling. It's actually there, not their when you're talking about a location. Try putting an apostrophe between the you and the re, when you combine to make out 'you're.' There is an omission there, so you should learn to mark it.
And like, like learn how to write, right because, I didn't know there was going to, and then, now.

Seriously, there are people who think they can write, but they can't. Such soreness to the eyes.....

And last but not least....

Just a thought. If you were really rich and famous, would you feel it within your power, or even believe it to be right to ask certain inappropriate types to not like you? So for example, if I had a complete wanker yelling out "I love Miss S!" so that everyone would hear, do you think it would be right for me to say "Hey, can you not like me? It's doing some serious damage to my rep?" Is that discriminative? Cruel? Who is the disenchanted one in this picture?

And what if you're not rich and famous, and perhaps you need all the friends you can get... would you tell certain people to back away from you, in order to keep your integrity, despite the lack of fans you have?

I'm all for the integrity. I don't care who it pisses off, I think I would somehow subtlety let the person know I didn't like them, or somehow suggest for them to 'move on.... away from me. Forever.'

It's all about the quality, rather than the quantity for me. All the way.

Sigh. Have I made any sense? Probably not.

2011: The Year In Review

This past year has been interesting. It has been unexpected at times, trying at others, and above all else a great learning experience. In retrospect, with all the new things that came into my life, whether I initially embraced them or tried to shut them out, I now believe it was all for the best.

Yesterday when I was trying to remember what my resolutions for this year had been, there was only one major one that stood out to me: And which I proudly with the widest smile can say I have given my all. That I will get to later:) However I find it hilarious that I had to think of my resolutions and could only remember one of them, having kind of forgotten the rest. Or had I? As I look through the list to see what I had achieved, although some were far from mind, the opportunites to take these things on board were definitely there, lingering.....


To read, HEAPS more.

Yes, yes and yes. Hold on there was only one point. I guess my point is to emphasise that I did take this on board whole-heartedly. I finished reading several self-help and law of attraction books, have started on "The Celestine Prophecy," started and finished "Persuasion," half-way through that got half-addicted to Jane Austen, am now almost finished reading "Pride and Prejudice" and am definitely addicted to Jane Austen. It may not seem like much (and I do feel I am missing a book somewhere) but compared to the NO BOOKS I was previously reading (or not reading if that makes sense, though I don't think it does) it is a lot, as all I used to previously read was mags and catalogues, which is really quite pathetic if you have to count that as literature. So I, am no longer, pathetic!
Ha ha.
Oh, and although I didn't work out the blogger, listing books, ticking them off thing, I've still succeeded with my main point, so there :P


To complete my first book by the end of the year.

Well, although I am not finished with this huge task, I am so proud to say that I am up to writing chapter 12 of my planned 14 chapter book. Last night I was writing and had to go back and check some stuff I'd written (I've written so much I forget what I've created!) and once again, as has happened on several other occassions, I was really pleased on reading back certain passages. I will need to revise and re-word quite a bit once I've finished my first draft, but considering I've had no formal training (other than my informal blogging of course :) ) I think I've done quite well.
AND, considering that I didn't actually start writing my book 'til the very end of Feb, I figure my resolution should be modified to extend to the end of Feb' 12: which is in fact when I plan to have the draft of my first book completed by. All is on track.
:):):)


To get fit.

Fail. Ok, well at first I went "fail, massive fail." But then I realised something. Yes I may have started the year off playing basketball with Hubbie a lot, running up and down basketball courts and what-not, with the attempts slowly dwindling to doing NOTHING of the sort. I could use genuine excuses to explain myself. Hubbie's busier schedule and starting a new job; me getting sick at one stage which removed me from all outdoor activities all together with no planned return to them - yes I could use these as an excuse, but I won't (even though I just did). If I had really wanted to do exercise, I would have found a way, no buts about it.
But then I remembered. Due to Hubbie's new job in the last couple of months this year, and the fact that he needs my car to get to and from work, I've been using the train pretty much every single day.
In the morning I walk 10 mins to work from the station. When I finish I walk 10 mins to the station. Then when I get to the station at home, I walk home for 25-30 mins, depending on what shoes I'm wearing.
That's every day of the week I work. Now that's a good effort.
So, I have half-committed to that resolution too, though unintentionally:) I could be lazy and wait 15 mins for the bus to take me home, but I start walking. Procrastination eat your heart out.


To improve all my relationships, full-stop.

This is a tricky one. Grey in some areas, as most relationships are. People who I've in the past been distant with, or who I've been angry with, I've now grown closer to, or have a new-found respect for. Others, who I have struggled with in the past, I still continue to struggle with even now.
Over Christmas I tried to put my extreme dislike of one person behind me, just for the day. It worked, and I managed to see them in a somewhat positive light. But then like today, when I remember the shit petty-ness, insecure mind games and arrogance I've received from them in the past, my anger fuels up again and I feel really mad. It's not black and white. Nothing in life ever really is. But the fact that I'm trying to learn, trying to move on, and trying to accept the fact that in order to solve your relationship problems you need to change yourself, tells me that I've made some progress.
Grrr. Changing myself at the ignorance of others just shits me. I'm not the problem. But often in life you've got to swallow your pride (and let Karma take care of the rest....)


To continue on my path of spiritual growth and self-development.

Yes. Simply put, yes. Through all my reading and thinking and my daily work calendar full of quotes like "First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do." - Epictetus.


To enjoy life.

This one I completely forgot I wrote down, yet this is the one that must have stayed subconciously in my mind, because this one I, we, have definitely achieved.
We have stepped it up a gear. One of our motto's is "work hard, play hard." We don't always get a chance to do what we want, what with work, family commitments, and other occasions that take up our weekends. So when we do get spare time, we go all out. It may not be big to some, but to us we take extreme pleasure in it: buying coffee whenever we go shopping; eating big and well at very decent restaurants; spoiling ourselves on quality clothes; buying unique and different furniture to furnish our home. We spend a bit more, because that's the kind of life we want: one consisting of quality. Not in the future, but from NOW. Starting from right now.
And we have been doing it, for about 6 months now. Going out, splurging, exploring the town and just smiling. Life is now. You don't wait for tomorrow to enjoy it. That's what we've been doing. Any spare moment we get we enjoy it to the fullest potential, so that when we return to work the next day we don't feel pity for ourselves in seeing someone sitting and relaxing in the sun, and enjoying a coffee at an exclusive cafe.
(Yesterday we had chocolate drizzled cappuccinos and shared a huge waffle for two, drizzled also with chocolate, with side accompaniments of ice cream, strawberries and banana - and today I'm ok with being back at work :) )


Ok, enough reflecting, now for my 2012 Resolutions!


1. To finish the first draft of my first book by late Feb, and by the end of the year have it published with a reputable publisher, with the intention of writing more books in the series for that publisher. This is my first and foremost resolution, it is direct because I know exactly what I want. I'm more than half way there. It WILL happen!

2. To continue to read more, especially in ways that will help along with my writing, and also to read books that will continue to help me better myself spiritually. This is a two-fold resolution. So we'll go to 4.

4. To do some form of exercise ( I have to sigh at this resolution ) however in particular I want to zone in on my arms and make them more toned. I have a goal in mind, as Red has some arm exercises she has to give me in paper form. As soon as she gives them to me, (hopefully soon!) I start! As for the other general exercise, hopefully I will do Zumba with my at-home DVDs, if I can't make myself apply to yoga classes. Yes, as far as resolutions go, my tone in this one sucks, but hey, I have to try, true?

5. To continue living life with Hubbie to the full in every way, shape and form.

6. To continue thinking, believing and LIVING the law of attraction, both for myself and in unison with Hubbie. Although he says I inspired him, some things he has achieved of late have inspired me so much that I want us to continue on this enlightened path, aware that all that we want and aim for in life, we will have.

These, my friends, are my wishes and hopes for myself, and I wish you, all the same happiness, love, health and success that you so rightly deserve.

"Look, I don't have all the answers. To be honest, in life, I failed as often as I succeeded. But I love my wife. I love my life. And I wish you, my kind of success."

- (Best ever end-of-movie quote! 'Jerry Maguire.')

Happiness Is.... #7

Happiness Is....

Having breakfast with Bubs in our Backyard on a Beautiful Saturday morning. Bliss. :)

Happiness Is.... #6

Happiness Is....

The best compliment of the year coming from a 9 year-old boy, my nephew. After all, you can't get any more honest than with kids, right?

Playing a game with him on his computer a couple of days ago, I was to help him combine elements to create something else. Hard to explain, but anyway, long story short, on my first go I said to him "pick this, and this."

He clicked both, and the combination of treeant came up. I had just fluked creating a treeant.

He gaped at the computer, turned to me and said in awe "You are epic."

I laughed so hard. That was absolutely, positively, the best thing I've heard in ages. Best compliment ever.

Still smiling now :)

The 'But' Ones

WARNING WARNING WARNING.

Please be alert, alarmed, and on the lookout for the 'But' ones.

No, I am not channelling Sir Mix-a-Lot, this has nothing to do with derrieres.

It's everything to do with another category I like to call 'annoying people.'

There aren't many out there, however when in contact with one, it's important to know what you're looking for so that you can make a quick escape. If in contact with more than one, I suggest you run screaming for the hills.

Identifying factors of this minority group include phrases like this:

"But I think you should have done this."

"But you should be upset with yourself, not her."

"But what about your travel time?"

"But what if he takes you for a ride?"

"But that doesn't matter."

"But that's wrong!"

As you can see from the above, the clearest most identifying factor of this sub-category annoying group is the use of the word 'But.' Not only do they use the term at the beginning of all of their sentences, but the conclusion and intention of all their words is to oppose whatever it is you are saying, no matter what it is.

Other identifyings attributes of this group that don't necessary include the word 'but,' however are minor clues that you may have a problem case on your hands, include:

- vague acknowledgement of your acheivements, to the point of a faint nod or changing of the topic

- turning the attention back to themselves after you've finished speaking, every chance they get

- an arrogant, superior attitude, that they are more experienced/smarter/better than you are

All of these identifying traits point to a species that needs to downplay the acheivements, views and general preferences of others in order to retain a sense of self-worth and importance. They are a highly immature species, their developmental stage seemingly stuck in an adolescent period; this is why they are unable to praise or give attention to others, they are highly selfish and want it all to themselves.

Their irrational behaviours stem from a deep insecurity that they are not important enough: their lack of development means it is especially unlikely that they are able to progress through this vulnerability on their own terms, and any support or guidance offered to them by others to help change will only be strongly refuted, as they are very stubborn, in keeping with their adolescent traits.

Due to their impossible natures, they are only ever able to find another 'But' one as a mate. Subsequently, together these mates may or may not produce further 'But' young. Here the chances are 50/50 that the young will follow in their parents footsteps. The young who are brainwashed from little will have little chances of escaping the domineering attitudes of their parents. The others may break away from their parents' pull in their teenage years, in the heartbreaking realisation that their parents are too egotistical, domineering and uptight to deal with. These courageous ones will be away to get away and make a brand new life for themselves, and will live their lives as a polar opposite to what they've been told growing up.

It is with the latter young group that we hope the future will be. As 'But' one mates with 'But' one, and they produce potential 'But' young, we can only hope that the young will have the hindsight and smarts to object to their parents rules, and make a fresh start for their generation.

The only hope is for the extinction of the 'But' ones. They are too impossible to manage. In hoping for a Darwinian-type world, a slow phasing out of their kind, via their young turning their backs to them, will be the only way to escape.

Extinction is the key.



And now to counter with a dose of, what else but....

Engagements and Weddings are coming out of my ar - .... ahem, behind - PART 2

Yes, there are more. As if there were not enough already, and with both of my friends' engagements behind us now, I can confirm more details of engagement/wedding joy impending on us.

THE DEFINITES

- The wedding that was confirmed for this month has now been postponed 'til Jan next year. That I don't mind, because October is always so busy for us, and January is super boring. So it evens things up a bit.

- This upcoming weekend we have an engagement - family friend on my side who announced her engagement not long ago.

- My friend is having her wedding in May, as previously confirmed.
- On the same weekend as above friend, Hubbie's 2nd cousin is also having his wedding. On the SAME weekend. Geez people. Hoping he picks the Sunday, as above friend is already confirmed for the Saturday.
- Red is having hers November next year.
- The week after Red's is Hubbie's best mate's wife's bro who is getting married to a relative of Hubbie's.

THE MAYBES

- 2 cousins of mine, both who haven't made dates as yet
- The above mentioned family friend will most likely have her wedding next year
- Just a couple days ago we heard that (deep breath) Hubbie's best mate's wife's brother's FIANCE (also known as Hubbie's relative) her brother has just announced his engagement. Phew! So that wedding may happen next year too. And an engagement may precede that also, all depending....
- Another cousin of Hubbie's who lives overseas, has met a man who lives in Australia, and they will most likely be moving here. They have filled in the relevant paperwork, and again, a wedding should definitely follow.

See how, when it rains it freaking pours cats and dogs????

AFTERWORD

I wrote this a couple of days ago before I posted it today. As Murphy's Law would have it, one of my above cousins who I said is most likely to get married next year, Legs, well she emailed me to say they have broken up. Without going into the specifics, she isn't going to wait for somebody who suddenly doesn't know what they want, as heartbreaking as it is. I feel so badly for her. It was kind of obvious things weren't right, and for a while now both families have been at it, but to come to this was something I never expected of them.

And he seemed the best match for her. Obviously not.

And then I hear my other cousin is already into the (completely outdated and domineering) habit of putting down his fiance in front of other family members. Like really? He's turning into his Dad who he despises so much. Let's see how long this one will take.

Sounds like my side of the family won't be contributing to any matrimonial bliss for a while yet......

The peculiarity of symmetry

Prior to this my current employer, I used to work in a shop. Back in 2006, at the end of that year as I was approaching my almost 4 years of working there, my work colleagues and I were hotly contesting the latest work issue: The upcoming Christmas Party.

I had been to three Christmas parties up until then from the time I'd been there, and it appeared there was to be no more, with rumours rife that management had decided only Managers and Full-Time workers of all their shops were invited to that years party, leaving out the part-time workers and casuals. I was a casual, and almost every person in that shop was too, bar the manager and her assistant. The majority of the company was the casuals, so we considered it to be a major slap in the face.

It turned out to be true, and when we spoke to employees at other stores, they too confirmed the same rumour we'd heard.

Meanwhile, our manager was working on some damage control. She was trying to keep us from revolting against management, while at the same time sweet-talking the area manager into allowing us an invite to the Christmas party. She believed we deserved the exception; we had won two awards over the past two years in our retail industry sector, and our stores sales were on the increase.

Finally, one day when the area manager came to visit us, our manager had her breakthrough. She'd convinced him, and he, in an ashamedly-but-chuffed-that-she-was-flirting-with-him way, said we could come.

We were allowed to go to our Christmas party.

Our manager was rapt. She announced to us all that we should be grateful that he was allowing us, the only casuals out of all the shops, the opportunity to attend. We should thank him, and go to the Christmas party.

I am not a freaking pitiful charity case.

I didn't do or say anything then (because it'd all been said and done between us the casuals previously), but I felt like sticking up my finger to them and telling them to stick it. I should be grateful? Really? For your initial refusal to accept us as important members of your team, for all the shit jobs we do and customer pressure we put up with? For all those Saturdays we go without proper lunch breaks or any breaks because we're understaffed yet snowed under in constant work due to high demand? For choosing to only pay attention to customers complaints and threaten our job dismissal without talking to us first? (oh yeah, that's a whole other story).

I didn't go to the party that year. I actually had a ticket out of it, because I had another engagement, and so that's all I said to my manager. I don't think many of the casuals went, a lot of us had already decided it was a lost cause.

Fast forward to yesterday, October 2011. I am approaching my fourth year here at my current employer. I have been to all three Christmas parties since starting work here. Also, over the last few weeks, there have been rumours that this years Christmas party was going to be held at the company's cafe. The small little cafe, meant to house 400 of the buildings employees, rather than hire out a proper venue like every other year. And, wait for it - the company has this year achieved some of its greatest success to date, in many of their profit sectors.

Yesterday we received an email from one of the top-dogs. He repeated the above: that we had had a magnificent year and achieved success in a variety of their avenues.

HOWEVER

with all of these successes, they had reached some difficult financial times, and as a result, the NETWORK CHRISTMAS PARTY WAS CANCELLED.

We all sat at our computers, mouths gaping as we read the email.

Just letting you know that our company is big. REALLY big.

The last part of the email read that several management heads were not going to accept this, and were so going to organise their own version of a Christmas party for us, with further details to follow in the coming week.

So in other words, they were going to pay out of their own budget or wallets for all of us. That is respectful. The part preceding it was not.

So, pretty much, this massive company that I work at is saying that THEY HAVE NO MONEY. Really, that's what it comes down to. They have enough when they have to 'buy out' people, pay them enormous salaries, anything to attract attention or increase their wealth through huge financial risk.

Yet for those people who come to work every day and make them a success, they have NO MONEY.

That is disappointing. That is sad. That is greedy.

This year we're on top and yet this is how we're treated. We won't be on top every year. What will happen then? They'll take away the coffee machine, start charging us to use the toilets and make us bring in our own milk?

They should be ashamed of themselves.

Most of us in our department are leaning towards a boycott of the whole event, preferring to get together at a bar and have our own little Christmas party.

And as I pondered all this yesterday, I couldn't help but link up all the circumstances, events, people and years to see some interesting connections developing.

I have to wonder whether this is another sign that there is change near. This has given me even more ammunition to achieve my dream. As I write my 11th chapter, drawing ever so closer to the completion of my book, I wonder whether there is something such as a 5 year itch.
Whether you call it an itch, history repeating itself or simply fate, whatever it is, there is no denying, there is something happening in the air......

I just got goosebumps.

Driving in my Dreams

I've had a few things on my mind as of late (as always) but after waking up yesterday morning with the memory of my dream so fresh in my mind, I just had to get it out there.

I had a dream about my dream car: the Nissan 370Z. Yes, it is my dream to have this car, but it will not remain one, because the wish will come to fruition, 'til the day that it is in fact a reality.

It was such a weird dream because I wasn't driving the car, it was Hubbie. It's funny, because in the dream it was a manual, and although my current car is auto and I've never driven anything but, Hubbie and I have spoken about the day when I do get it, that I will get it manual and learn how to drive. That's because the only way to have that car is as a manual. And so in the dream he was driving it because I still didn't know how to drive manual. Although at one point in the dream Hubbie did ask me to hold the wheel for him, hmmmmmm I wonder what that could mean......

And to make it more weird, the car had a back seat, with 2 random men in it. 1, the car doesn't actually have a back seat, (although sometimes I wish it did, so it would make me feel less bad about having a car that only seats one other person at a time!) and 2, the men seemed to me to be some kind of business people? Weird.

What was completely realistic though was that we all went shopping (random business guys included) and I bought a lot of clothes before we went off driving again. I love shopping. So that part of the dream is totally believable.

And you know when you wake up, and it feels like you've just finished dreaming that dream? So all the details are still fresh in your mind, so you feel like you can just fall asleep again and gently slip into the drivers seat..... or passengers seat as was my case.

Ahhhhh, 370Z, how I love you so.

THIS PHOTO IS NOT MY PROPERTY, DOES NOT BELONG TO ME IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.

Oh, and the car in my dream was a convertible, the roadster version, as above. In real life, I sorta don't care, I'll take any model really if someone hands it to me :)

Happiness Is.... #5

Happiness Is....

Shopping with your best buddies. Walking around a shopping centre aimlessly, not necessarily buying anything but nontheless window-dreaming and thinking big. Talking about a random multitude of subjects because hey, that's what old friends do. They are never at a loss for words.

The conversation is about people, places, things; everything. Somehow it turns to books. And I say to Blonde teasingly, in reference to her inability to complete reading an entire book (she much rather prefers shopping) "When I finish my book, Red can read it and then tell you all about it."

I say this quite seriously even though I'm teasing. I'm under no false pretences about her choice of activites. I'm giving her a 'get out of jail free' card.

Immediately she turns to me: it's an instantaneous reaction. "No, I'M going to read it!" I laugh.

A few minutes pass before I realise how valuable her reaction to my statement was. I tell her and we laugh again.

I love it. I love my friends. Red and Blonde are the best. Their support to me in my creative endeavours is incredible. I love them for wanting to read my book because they want to. And I love them for wanting to read my book even more, even though it may not be the first preference of sparetime activity they would normally choose.

Cherish your true friends :)

The freaking pain of writing

So last night I had a complete nervous breakdown. For weeks now I haven't had the proper time to write. First it was my birthday, then the holidays, then more birthdays.... last night was the first night I was able to make myself commit again, as was per normal about a month ago.

Actually, I'd given myself the last 2 writing nights off, in my acknowledgement that I still had to drum up some ideas in order to be actually able to write something. No point in putting my fingers to the keyboard to just sit there staring blankly at the computer screen.

So last night, I sat on the couch next to hubbie as he was watching Family Guy and American Dad eps back to back. I was all prepared you see. Rather than lock myself in the study away from him, I wanted to stay close (awwwww!) and instead plug in my ipod to some classical music so that the distracting Peter Griffin and Stan Smith didn't get in the way of my creative processing thoughts.

So I got organised: I downloaded some Beethoven and got going.

You know that really well-known Beethoven symphony? I think it's symphony no. 5 or 7. Well that's the one that started on my ipod playlist. Really stirring, loud. Maddening. Sitting there on the couch next to hubbie, with flashes of animation passing in front of my eyes, exceptionally loud Beethoven blasting into my ears, and me, Miss S trying to get back into the writing habit, willing my creative thoughts to work, was the scene last night. It didn't take long 'til I went insane.

Then another symphony came on. A slow, sad one. Good. The feel of the beginning of my chapter 10 is a frustrating one, so maybe this sad music could help, I thought. A few more sad symphonies went by. More flashes of animation before my eyes. Bits and pieces of the Griffin family voice seeped their way into my earphones during the slow lapses of music in Beethoven's sad songs. I turned up the volume, only to have to turn it down again quickly when the music suddenly dipped up.

After 5 minutes I realised my fingers were more on my ipod then on the freaking keyboard.

I managed to write about 2 paragraphs. I was getting so frustrated, when a chirpy symphony began. And it really pissed me off. Yes it wasn't sad and depressing, yes the music filled up my ears with sound so that I could block out any remnants of noice from Family Guy, but it didn't match the mood of my chapter! And because it wasn't matching, it was completely screwing with my thoughts.

I sat there, silently stewing for a few moments, then ripping the earphones out, got up and left. I went into the bedroom and sat there with the door closed, where for half the time I managed to write another paragraph, and the other half I bawled my eyes out crying.

It was so frustrating. I was trying to find ways to write, and yet in my efforts to write contentedly sitting next to Hubbie, I had instead failed miserably. I couldn't do it, distractions were all abound. Hubbie came up and tried to comfort me, and his efforts somewhat paid off. But when he asked me to let it go for the night and leave the writing 'til tomorrow, when my head was more clear, I couldn't help bawling again.

And then I realised what it was. It wasn't so much the distractions. It was the fact that I was confused. I had a really bad case of writer's block. This whole time I hadnt been writing, I had put it down to lack of time. And now, when I had the time, I still couldn't write. It was me. I wasn't working properly.

It's not that the words wouldn't come to me, more that the idea and where I want to go in the last part of the story is still one great big muddle of mud. Knowing that I'd skipped the last 2 sessions, along with the knowledge that I was already 9 hours behind in writing time that I still had to make up, was placing an enormous amount of stress on me. I just couldn't take it.

I found some inspiration in a writing book I have though. On a section about when writing gets hard, it says that there are 2 reasons why writing gets hard. Either you don't believe in what you're writing about anymore. Or, you don't know what to write, and this is the time to persist because a breakthrough is near. Like I said to hubbie last night, I really hope this is the latter case for me.

So I'm just gonna have to persist. Write down ideas, brainstorm, try to link things up. Stare at my words, make songs up about the chracters, anything, just until a few pieces click together and bang! it's there.

Maybe I need to change my approach, or try from a different angle, I'm not sure. What I do know is that I always knew this wasn't gonna be easy, and I'll be damned if I'm giving up now.

Giving up? Sorry, I'm not familiar with that expression......

And now to counter this verbally abusive post to the bitch known as writing, I will give you some Happiness :)

Three's a Crowd

This post I have to write in complete metaphor. The reason being, that I'm too ashamed to even write it with the pseudonym names I have on this blog. So here goes.

Let's say that there's a park. This park is the best. It's been your favourite park for a really long time. You see this park often. You go there when it's sunny and relax on the park benches as the warm rays soak into you. You escape there when it's windy, inside the massive and comforting gazebo. You even have a secret little tree, with its wide-reaching branches that protect you from the coldest rain. No matter what the weather, this favourite park is always there for you.

As life goes on, and you ponder the meaning of life, you begin to think about this park. You love the park, and will always love it. However you are open to exploring other parks, and begin to see the heightened beauty of another park that you have always walked past to get to your favourite park. Let's call this other park park B.

Park B has other beauties that you appreciate. When the suns rays stream down onto the park bench you sit at there, the warmth is so strong that you immediately see the reddening on your skin. It too houses protection from the elements, and though it has no gazebo to keep you safe from the cold days, it has some nice feathery trees that keep you protected enough when the weather turns chilly. You don't mind this compromise, because of the intense heat you get whilst sitting there.

Park B also fits in with your preferred lifestyle. You find yourself getting colder each day, and yearn for the powerful heat you get from that park, even if it means getting stuck there during a cold spell and suffering slightly because you don't have as much protection as you do from your first park. You still love the first park; of course, it will always be your first proper and favourite park; yet you wonder whether over the coming years, you will start to wane away from it, and visit Park B more often, slowly edging away from the park that used to be your only one.

You're excited by the warmth you receive from Park B. You start to imagine the future and all the possibilities you have in visiting this park, and create fantasies where you are visiting Park B, and receiving all the beautiful warmth you can possibly dream of.

Just when you think things are going fantastic, when you think nothing could possibly change your feelings towards Park B, something happens. You walk to Park B one day and find someone sitting on your park bench. The one you thought was reserved for you and only you. Sure, parks are public places, and anyone can come and visit any park they choose. But something about the way the sun's rays hit this person as they sit on your supposed park bench, unsettle you. The way the park's trees sway in accordance to the soft wind, and the tree branches bend so that this person on your park bench can get the ultimate sun impact. And what a glorious sun they are getting. The warmth shining on their face is almost blinding.

You walk away, disheartened. Things suddenly appear different. Cold and confused, you wrap your arms around you; you realise you've been wearing lighter clothes.

You begin to think of your first park. The one and only park. It needs no other name to describe it. Yes, that park housed many a people who ventured into it. But it always seemed to hold a special place for you. It never favoured anyone else, or made anyone feel as comfortable there as it did with you. It kept you warm, and most importantly, kept you protected from every single element that dared to disturb your splendour. And it was waiting for you to come back all along.

You walk to your first park, guiltily. You feel ashamed. You look at your park, and know that your park knows. Your park knows where you've been. It's aware of your recent feelings, and knows that you've been visiting Park B more and more as of late.

You smile at the park and walk over to your park bench. Here, the park's branches move so that the sunlight that streams down on you is the best there that you can get. Sure, it's not blinding. But blinding isn't always good. Sometimes blinding can be too much.

You settle into the bench, close your eyes, and allow the park to love you as it always has.


Afterword

This is definitely not about Hubbie. I love him more than ever and this is definitely not about our relationship.

What I will say though is that there is a moral to this story: The grass is always greener in your park. Don't forget this.

Movie Moments

The above is what I'm trying my best to focus on in my return back to work today after 2 weeks.

Like I've previously blogged, many many posts ago, it felt not only weird to be back at work today but also depressing. I know the first day back is always difficult, and it takes a while to get back into the everyday routine.
But I've had such a good time while on leave with Hubbie. Not just good, but great, brilliant, fantastic, fun, every wonderful and heart-warming, good times-explosive word you can imagine.

And it's not even like we went away very far, or for very long. Yes, we went away for a few nights for my birthday, with the rest of the time spent furniture/home furnishing shopping, whilst drinking coffees, going out to brunches and dinners, and going out heaps with our family and friends, with a good dose of drinking and partying to make things that extra bit awesome.

Having the time off with Hubbie was absolute bliss. We haven't had this much time off together since our honeymoon. And it was tooooooo good. Which is why I felt so depressed this morning.

Things did seem a bit weird, a bit off around the office this morning, however I can't quite put my finger on what the changes are, because everything looks the same. Except for the printer, that is different.

Again, in light of these strong feelings, my resolve to write and be my own boss is stronger than ever. Although I had a bit of writers block last week (is it writer's block when you can't find ideas, or you can't find the right words? Maybe both) I know I need to finish this story (I've finished chapter 9) and after finishing it, keep ON writing to develop more books, as not writing would be like killing these characters off in my head. And they definitely have a story that needs to be heard.

Also, coming back to work to learn that once again

hey you! yes you! you are going to be in charge again while your boss is away! YAY!

is not exactly love inducing. I wanted to come back to work and have it be all cruisy because I'm still in freaking holiday mode. I have my brother-in-law's birthday tonight, my bestie Blonde is visiting again from the U.S, and I want to ease into this thing. But no. Work has other plans doesn't it. And not only that, but people have to snap at me too, don't they, just for fucking asking questions and doing my job as opposed to slacking off and counting down the seconds like the complete idiotic incompetent wankers that they are (ahem, cough* no-show boy).

So, here I sit, breathing deeply, and thinking of my book. Of my success. How all this bullshit is going to make it so much more worth it one day.

I think back to brunch with my friends yesterday. Talking to Red about her engagement plans on the busy street sidewalk, while Blonde and our other friends wave at us through the shop window, pointing at bags and accessories. I think of Blonde walking up to us and enveloping us in a big group hug.

I think of Hubbie. My everything. I think of us walking around in random circles in over-commercialised shopping centres, drinking expensive coffee and getting excited about practically everything, all the while trying to focus on buying things for the home while getting constantly sidetracked from our over-hyped, caffeine-induced states. And then buying really expensive things at the drop of a hat just because we can :)

Those are the movie moments.

I think of lying across Hubbie and staring up at him, and this I struggle to think of in fear of tears trickling down my face, because I miss that so much. Yes I have that still, but I want it every day, not just end of day when we're all over the routine and work of life, tired and crap.

So that's why I've got to focus and push past the writer's block. Because I want it all. I can have it all, I know I can.

"Me, I want what's coming to me. The world Chico, and everything in it." - Tony Montana, Scarface.

Engagements and Weddings are coming out of my ar - .... ahem, behind

I couldn't sleep last night, lying in bed for a whole 2 hours after turning off the lights. It may have been the two coffees I had yesterday, or the fact that I slept in because we had a massive Saturday night.
Or it could have been because I was counting all the upcoming engagements and weddings we have coming up.

It's all very exciting, I must admit. In the past when we've had weddings/engagements galore, it's generally been more of Hubbie's extended family, and so although we've enjoy ourselves like we always do at parties and stuff, it is nothing compared to when you are supertight with the people there.

A month ago a close friend called to tell me she's engaged, and only a week ago Red called on her return from a holiday with Mr Wine to tell me he'd proposed. I was screaming into the phone and trying to hold back tears of happiness. SOooooooooooooooo happy :-D :-D :-D

Last night Hubbie and I were on the couch, when his best mate started messaging him. Turns out his wife's bro is getting married, and the girl is also extended family from Hubbie's side. We know the couple from both ends! That is also super-duper exciting, as we get along really well with Hubbie's best mate and wife, and we can't wait to party it up with them at the wedding.

So last night instead of counting sheep, I was counting all the weddings and engagements we have coming up. Here it is:

Red's engagement in September
My other friend's engagement in October
Definite wedding in late October - friend from school.

Those are the definites. The maybe's:

Hubbie's best mates wifes bro - maybe engagement this year
Another family member on Hubbie's side - maybe wedding later this year
Then I have 2 cousins, both who are getting married, but I don't know when = 2* possible weddings later this year.

THEN:

Next May is definitely my other friend's wedding.
Red is thinking early 2013 for her wedding.
And of course any maybe's that didn't follow through this year, including Hubbie's best mates wife's bro who will most likely get married in the following year.

Phew! So many maybe's it's doing my head in,. What I do know is there are going to be a lot of engagements and weddings in the next couple of years. Who am I kidding, when the engagements and weddings stop, the christenings and 1st birthdays begin........

:-D

Mouse-capades

***Disclaimer! Do not read this post if you are particularly fond of mice or any type of rodent, as you will not find love for them here. Instead, click onto my "Happiness Is...." posts, you will find much more joyful reading there.... Mice haters read on.***





This last month has seen the fall and capture of Bin Laden, the end of Autumn and start of Winter, and the biggest party of the year, where my sister and I organised my Dad's surprise 70th birthday.



And then there were the mouse adventures of Hubbie and I.



Yes, the mouse. The mouse that had scarred us like no tomorrow.



It all began a couple of Fridays ago.

One Friday afternoon, Hubbie and I had made plans to catch up with his boss and his wife. They were going to come to our place after 6pm, and then we were going to make our way to a local pizza place for dinner. I had to drop off some presents to Blonde's parents, as they were heading overseas to stay with their daughter for a couple of months, and so I wanted them to pass on some presents from Red and I to her.



Well, the drop-off didn't really happen. I came to her parents very dark and apparently vacant looking house, and called Blonde's sister, saying, "I'm in front of your parents!" only to find out that they had left for overseas that morning. Apparently when her mum said for me to come on Friday, she probably actually meant that they were leaving on the Friday. Oh well. Blonde would get her presents in July when she visited us here.



So off I drove back home, half-laughing at myself, thinking 'wait til Hubbie hears about this mix up.' I'd left him at home, and knew that once I got back we would slowly start getting ready for that night.



I was a bit peeved off when I got to the front door, loaded with presents I thought I'd have dropped off already, and struggling with my keys, wondering 'where is he?' as Hubbie will often open the front door for me when he hears me.



I finally got the door open, and seeing the kitchen light on, was going to call out to him 'guess what happened?'



Instead he beat me to it. All I heard was "Don't be alarmed, but there's a mouse in here."



Because of his precaution, I wasn't too freaked out. And I wasn't so surprised either. I'd almost brought this predicament onto myself, I felt, as I thought of the past few weeks. Twice the previous week, in the lead up to my Dad's birthday during my baking marathons in the kitchen, I'd seen a mouse run through our backyard through our large sliding door windows.

I'd been very suspicious then. We have a sizeable gap on one end of the door that leads to the garage. So once something, anything was in the garage, it wasn't hard to imagine it not finding its way inside. That, coupled with a big talk Hubbie and I had had with a family member about recent mice problems in our area, gave me a huge feeling that I was going to attract something very unwelcome with my worries.



I came into the kitchen, and Hubbie was definitely, very freaked out. I wasn't so much at this stage. Disgusted and shocked yes, still slightly in denial perhaps, as I hadn't yet seen the rodent.



He had actually lost sight of it. He'd been in the kitchen, and had turned around to see it's ugly tail flit across the sink/bench and behind the microwave. It had then run behind the stereo when he had moved the microwave, and now couldn't find it. It had apparently 'disappeared' behind the stereo.



I was instructed to stand and keep watch on one side of the stereo while Hubbie stood at the other, so we had all corners covered. I was getting icky by this stage and had to stand on a chair: I couldn't be on the ground if it suddenly sprung out at me. Yuck, shudder.



I was peering behind the stereo from my birds-eye view, and Hubbie was moving around the stereo, speakers and cables from the other side: nothing.

Hubbie was convinced he hadn't lost it, yet we couldn't see it anywhere. Occasionally we could hear something, like scurrying, but at the same time couldn't find the source of where it was coming from.



I don't know how he realised, but suddenly Hubbie turned to me, flashlight shining in one hand, long knife sharpener in the other, whispering, eyes shining bright "it's in the speaker!"



"How is it in the speaker?"



"It is, I can hear it!"



Then we realised. The small speaker hole, located at the base, was large enough for a freaking mouse to go through. It must have snuck in when Hubbie was looking for it from one side, and slid in undetected. 'Til now.



We realised if it was inside, we would have to try get the speaker to an outside area to get rid of the mouse. We were freaking out a bit more at this stage, especially given Hubbie was going to have to pick up and carry the mouse-filled speaker (there was no way in hell I would do it!)



I got an old tea towel that was in the laundry hamper, and he wrapped it around the base of the speaker, so that when he picked it up the hole was covered and the mouse couldn't escape. I quickly opened the sliding door for him, and he placed it in the middle of our backyard area, in the very dim light.



Here lied the problem. It was now so dark, that we could just barely see outside, and that was with our faint backyard light on. We didn't know how we could tell if the mouse had escaped from the speaker (which is what we wanted, we just didn't want it inside), and on top of that it was beginning to consistently drizzle.



And our not even 1 year old speaker was getting wetter and wetter.



We didn't know what to do. Hubbie went back outside, grabbed it and brought it in, the speaker that hadn't been out there more than a minute.



And he started to shake it. Hubbie was like "I don't think it's in there," SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE, and you could hear a faint moving inside, like the small parts of a piece of equipment jiggling around or cables moving. I stood there, unconvinced, wanting, almost, about to say "I don't think that's cables."



SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.



SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE.



And then with one of the shakes, the mouse sprang out of the speaker hole, running towards our lounge room. It was already a full 2-3 metres in front of us before we had a chance to react, that's how fast it was. I gave a high-pitched squeal, Hubbie dropped the stereo and began taking long, quick strides, trying to balance and cover as much ground as possible and try get as good an aim at the mouse as he could. I will never for the rest of my life forget how funny he looked running after that mouse. Never.




But of course, the mouse was too quick, and appeared to have disappeared beneath the couches.



By this stage, my denial had dissipated, and was quickly replaced by hysteria.

"Oh my God! There's a mouse, in our house! How disgusting! I feel so gross! I can't believe it! Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...."



Again, Hubbie ordered me to stand at one end of the lounge room while he went to the other, so he could search for it beneath the couch. I couldn't stand to stand, and once again brought over a chair so I could be at aerial height.



Hubbie looked and looked. He swept the floor, beneath the lounge, coffee table and TV unit with the torchlight. He moved the lounge and the coffee table. I wasn't convinced and was forced to look under the couch as well. There was no mouse. At one point I thought I saw something move near the stairs, but then realised it couldn't have run right in front of us to the stairs, we would have seen it.



I was starting to freak out. There was no mouse, I didn't know where it was, and I didn't like NOT KNOWING WHERE THINGS WERE. NOT BEING IN CONTROL. I hated it. And I was really hating this mouse for beating us.



We went through a lot of scenarios. Where it could have been. We decided and I very reluctantly agreed, that after it ran under the couch, it must have run along the back wall there and come upon the very door that leads to the garage, the one with the sizable gap on one side. It would have made its escape, away from the two mad people screaming and chasing at it.

The other scenario could have been that it was still under the couch. However Hubbie stressed to me (after I stated that we could not under any circumstances have his boss and wife over in the small chance that there was a disgusting rodent in our house) that in a room full of noisy people a mouse wouldn't be so stupid as to run out in front of us and say hello. He said we couldn't cancel on them, especially since they had gone to the lengths to get their children babysat that night to go out with us. I was really mad and stressed. But I knew I had to agree.



However I had my guidelines. I instructed Hubbie to get any drinks we would need out from our 'drinks fridge' in the garage. Then, he would close up the gap in the door leading to the garage (from the garage side so you couldn't tell) with my laundry hamper tea towels, to prevent any mouse re-entering the house.



And then we were going to like madmen get ready, in less than half an hour, returning furniture to its original places, putting our mess away, cleaning up broken glass (a glass broke when we were searching for the mouse in the kitchen) and any other CRAP mess the mouse had brought upon us in our hunt for it.

What had become a time bomb had within half an hour turned into a well-kept, clean and modern environment. I was muttering to myself "If these walls could talk."

And so the rest of the night passed by relatively effortlessly. We had our friends over, went out for dinner and then went to my parents quickly to get some stuff, which we'd been planning to do the whole time - this worked out rather favourably for us. We told them about the story - and Dad gave us 2 mouse traps of his: one for the garage, as that's where we assumed the mouse had ended up, and one for the house, just in case it hadn't escaped. That part I didn't want to think about. Hubbie decided he'd put the house trap near the kitchen, his reasoning being that if a mouse were looking for food, that would be the most logical place for it to go.

I was whinging a whole lot to my parents. Look, it wasn't so much that I was scared of it. Yes a part of me was, although I knew it wasn't going to run up and bite me. But its movements were unexpected, and wherever I was faced with something, someone or a situation in which I felt helpless, I got frustrated and angry. This mouse had come into our house with no invite, and had made me feel all icky and disgusting. My Mum made me feel better though: "The mouse just wants food! He's not going to come into your room to look at your perfumes!" We all laughed at that, and the ridiculous statement sort of put it into perspective for me. Of course she was right. Mice went to food, and there was no food in our bedroom.

...

We were very hesitant, to say the least, walking through the house throughout Saturday. But as they say, 'out of sight, out of mind.' And we were beginning to think that the mouse had really gone, as there was no sighting of it anywhere in the house.

Sunday early morning came, and Hubbie got up to go to work. It was about 6am, but his movements stirred me, and it was almost as if I knew what he was going to do. I heard him open the door leading to the garage, and pause. Then he walked up a part of our stairs. He called out to me "the trap went off."

"Alright. Is the mouse there?"

"Yep, it's dead."

Relief flooded over me. I was still freaked out - knowing that the mouse had been in there, somewhere the whole time. However knowing it had been caught made me feel safe, and I fell asleep again.

I was sleeping so nicely. I woke up a bit about 8am but fell asleep again. Something entered my dream. It was scurrying, twitching noises. I opened my eyes. The noise was coming from under the bed.

I shot upright in bed, and looked towards Hubbie's alarm clock. It was 9.00am. The noises had stopped. I sat there, frozen, and flung the blankets off of me.

Calm down Miss S, I thought to myself. You dreamt it. There's nothing under the bed. The mouse was caught. There's nothing under your bed.

You dreamt it, my internal voice continued. You were dreaming about weird noises, but now that you've woken up, you can't hear him. Because you stopped dreaming.

As much as I repeated the calming thoughts, the nagging just wouldn't go away. I hadn't dreamt it. I had woken up and heard the end sound of some scurrying under my bed. Like something was crawling right under the mattress, walking against the walls.

I got up. I swung my feet wide from the edge of the bed. I walked to the doorway, and crouched down on my hands and knees, to scan from a distance if anything was under the bed.

When I saw the large lump under the bed I got a small heart attack, until I realised that it was just a spare blanket that we sometimes use to hang in front of our blinds in summer when the morning light becomes too bright. I moved my eyes around, adjusting to the dim light under the bed, until I came to the bedside drawer. My bedside drawer.

There was a very small, roundish object, under the bedside drawer, right up against the wall.

My breathing increased. I tried to rationalise. What could be under there? The cables from my alarm clock and my lamp? No, they wouldn't bundle into a circle like that. I stared the bundle down, knowing full well that if it moved I would scream and shout like no tomorrow.

I remembered Hubbie's flashlight was in his bedside drawer, and so I quickly and tentatively walked over there, still trying to keep a view of the floor in our room. Although it's a good brand flashlight (that you can tell from how freaking heavy it is) for some reason the light flickers when it's on, and we've barely used it. So I'm desperately knocking it lightly with my hand, pleading with it, as the light flickers on, then off. "Please work, please please please...."

Finally it stayed on. I swung the light under the bedside drawer, to see that it was a definite object, no bunch of cables there. But I still couldn't work out what it was, crouching from the other end of the room.

So I stepped onto the bed, walked over to the wall side up near the pillows, and shone the light down, behind the drawer, pressing my face against the wall to see.

And I saw 2 little eyes glinting in the light.

I started to gingerly step from one side of the bed to its end, and as softly yet as quickly as I could, I stepped off and closed the door behind me.

"Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God. There's a mouse in my room. Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God, Oh My God." I remembered my Mum's words from a few days earlier. The mouse had come into my bedroom to see my perfumes!

I was in full flight mode, with a good dose of fight, as I remembered the mouse trap we had in the kitchen. I carefully picked it up, terrified it was going to go off, and ran back up the stairs.

I opened the door slowly. Set the mouse trap down near the door. Checked again under the drawer. Yep, mouse was still there. Closed the door and down the stairs I ran.

I hadn't even had a chance to grab my nightgown, and I wasn't gonna chance going into my bedroom again. First thing in my manic hysteria and disbelief: call Hubbie.

I got put through and immediately spoke the words he'd only days before spoken to me: "don't be alarmed, but there is a mouse in our bedroom, under our bed."

I explained how I came to hear/see it. I knew there wasn't much he could do since he was at work, but I just had to vent my frustrations and fears, and we hung up, me sensing the dread and disappointment in his voice. We'd both thought we'd got it, the mouse. But it seems as if there was another one waiting in the wings....

I ended up calling my parents, and they came over shortly after. While I waited I ate cereal on the couch, the throw gathered around me, throwing suspicious looks towards the stairs, wondering if and when I would hear a snap!

When they arrived, I went up with Dad to do some investigating. I never intended on going too far, as just from opening the door I could tell the mouse was still not caught - the trap was empty. My Dad decided to bring the mouse trap 'closer' to the mouse behind the drawer, and in horror I realised he meant CLOSE. He was taking the mouse trap right up to the drawer, as if 10 centimetres from, against the wall. I was calling out "Dad, it will run!" and freaking out, when the mouse ran along the length of the back wall. I screamed. It disappeared behind the bed along the wall again. My Mum called out to me from downstairs "come here Miss S, don't watch." As I quickly shut the door and ran I heard my Dad calling out "well, where do you want me to put the trap then?"

After sitting downstairs and freaking out for a bit, Dad came downstairs, saying that it was going to be impossible for him to catch the mouse, there had to be 2 people in the room. I told him to wait until Hubbie got home and they could do it together. Lo and behold it was as if Hubbie read my mind. He was owed some hours off, and so took that day as an opportunity to come home to our mouse crisis. He called me, and said he was on his way.

When Hubbie came home, the formalities were few: hello, how are you - let's go upstairs. Up he and Dad went, into a room already with 2 mouse traps (Dad had set up another) to catch the mouse. I was getting grossed out when they started asking for footwear to borrow in order to 'catch' it. Ew. Double Ew. Triple Ew. Ew, ew, ew.

Mum and I were downstairs at the table, talking all things mice. At one point we heard Hubbie go "ohhhhh" in deep realisation, and I wondered whether they had caught it. But still nothing. And then there was a loud noise. I stood up, waiting to hear the opening of the door, and soon it came followed by my Dad's asking for a bag. It was dead. Mouse no more.

They told us that it was impossible to catch. Just when they went to take a swing at it as it flew out from one end of the room to another, it was gone before their arm was even coming down. They said it never would have gotten caught if it weren't for the mouse trap. It ran straight into it.

After the whole debacle, we sat around drinking tea and eating cookies, while I recounted my morning horror again to them all in full detail. It was a story I was never going to forget. We were still wondering how the mouse had gotten into the bedroom, and I suggested that back when Hubbie and I were chasing it on the Friday night, maybe it had gone up the stairs somehow, like I thought I'd seen from the corner of my eye. Maybe it waited behind a couch, and then when we were gone went searching upstairs for food. The one caught in the garage that morning, that one I believe was the partner, coming in search of its mate. Although we were pretty satisfied that being a couple, there shouldn't be anymore, we still kept a few mouse traps around: one in our bedroom, one in the garage and one in the extra bedroom.

Why the extra bedroom you may ask? Well shortly following the whole mouse catching episode, we curiously went around the rooms, and realised that the mouse that had been in our bedroom had been in our spare bedroom with the easter eggs that couldn't fit into our pantry, and had knawed through a Lindt bunny's head, leaving bits of gold foil around the carpet. It was so disgusting, but it made sense: it went from room to room looking for more food. Why it didn't just stay in that room and keep eating, is beyond me. Maybe they're not so smart.

A day later, and back in that same spare bedroom I realised another Lindt bunny had had a section of it's ears eaten. We were freaked out, because we hadn't noticed it the day before, making us believe there was still a mouse in the house! Hubbie and I went on a massive excavation, moving all objects in all rooms and searching within and behind all furniture, nooks and crannies. Nothing. It left us with a sense of relief, but that doubt over why we hadn't noticed the 2nd eaten bunny earlier was grating on us, making us think constantly "what if?"

Hubbie sent me the best msg a few days later. I was at work, he at home, and he sms'd me this:
"I also put foil around the chocolate upstairs to see whether we still have company. Left the room door open to kindly invite him in."

His ploy being if the mouse were there, it would have to eat through fresh foil again, and we would then know for sure that there was another mouse. Fortunately for us nothing else has come up since, no sighting, and just yesterday Hubbie movied the mouse traps into the garage. We believe we are now mouse free!

What have we learned from this situation? Never leave sizeable gaps under any of your doors. Dad was able to patch it up immediately for us, and we discovered there was a decent hole in the brick wall of our garage that has now been filled in with a few chunks of wood.

Also, we've heard over the last while that there has been many, many, many reports of an influx of mice entering homes and backyards all over our region, due to the amount of rain that has been falling. It makes us feel that much better knowing the mice didn't necessarily choose our house because we were grotty (we're not) - rather they're all just running.

But like I say to the bugs that enter our home, before I smack them down with my shoe

"Why didn't you stay outside? Outside I don't touch you; in here, all bets are off!"

And so ends our Mouse-capade Adventure....

My friend Karma

I have a very strong faith in Karma. It's something I learnt, in a very hard way when I was 16, whilst at high school and having an intense friendship break-up. People may think 'oh, all that high school melodrama is just a part of growing up.' But the way you interpret your life's dramas, whether big or small, kind of sets you up for the way you'll deal with other tough scenarios for the rest of your life.

And in any of these tough cases I've come across and had to endure, I learnt that whenever there was a difficult person who seemed to be getting away with doing something bad which I couldn't change or help, the expectance of Karma was very much welcomed.

That first time I learnt to depend on Karma at the age of 16, I had to endure many months of strained friendships and life uncertainty before seeing Karma's appearance start to make a change in not only my life for the better, but also appear as the undeniable avenger in the lives of those who had wronged me. When I hadn't known what to do, I'd simply stated "I release this, and believe that Karma will make those pay if they deserve it." I had to focus all of my attention on that thought, and hope and pray that I was right, that retribution would come to those who had asked for it. And slowly but surely, it did. It was a slow process, but in the spate of about 6 months the dynamics had shifted dramatically, and as I sit here today, knowledgable about the lives of those I'd separated from over a decade ago, I'm even more aware now of not only the pure fact of Karma's existence - because it is just that, a fact - but also that the power of positive vs. negative energies is a game in which both sides always win. Just think about that one for a moment.

Not only do I play by Karma's law, because I want to attract good things - but I do so for a genuine reason, I actually do want good, and wish good for others. And I try, try, try not to care too much about the wrong-doings of others, confident in the knowledge that Karma will 'fix them up' if they deserve it. Well, generally confident.

And that's the thought that has lead me to this place. This place of lately feeling like God's avenger, a righter of wrongs that needs to let people know they've done bad. Yes I realise how comical that may sound but it's true. I have this raw instinct in me to let people know when they've pissed me off - yes that quality a lot of people have I'm sure. However at times, depending on how intense I feel about the wrong-doing, and in particularly how often a certain offender may re-offend, I feel even more driven to the extreme border of earth-bound and born retaliator.

Haha, me in terminator gear, how funny. Seriously though, it does get to me. Thankfully, I've once again had my aha! moment in regards to Karma, because of some interesting news I heard yesterday.

No-show-boy, myself and another colleague were having a tea break late last night. He started saying how he'd had a Saturday day shift, the one that's just passed, and was supposed to start at 2pm. Because of some 'things' he had to attend to in the day (and also to the fact he fell asleep on his couch), on top of the fact that he had misinterpreted the 1400 work start time written on his hand to mean 4:00pm, rather than the 2pm reminder it was meant to be, he came into work a little later than usual. And guess who, unknown to him was already at work, waiting for him?
Our boss.

Dum, da dum dum.

She's really a very good boss. She is very accomodating to our out-of-work needs and requirements, and you could say, is very cool.

She's also the sort of person to really let you have it if you take advantage of her easygoing nature, which is what happened to No-show-boy. The other colleague and I sat there wide-mouthed as he told us how she completely went off at him for being late, especially since there had been some kind of request made to our department in regards to an error, and as no one was here to represent our team she was called.

Ouch. That's nasty.

It was only then that I realised what had been happening. Here I was, keeping notes on his absences from work, and counting the minutes he was away from his desk per day (maybe not counting, but I was being a complete tardy-freak), not so I could tell somebody, I'm not a dibby-dobber, more so for my own records to satisfy my curiosity of how far he would push it. Last week I sort of said to myself, quite subconsciously of any Karma that may take part "I'm letting this go, I can't do anything about it. And if he's as bad as I think he is (tardy-wise) then the bosses will EVENTUALLY find out."

And they seriously did, within a week. Not that they didn't know already. Really, you can't keep secrets like those, everyone's true character comes out eventually.

And it made me think. This Karma re-appearing in front of me, made me think that perhaps I should 'let certain things go' about other troublesome characters in my life. Let them go, and the hurt go, so that Karma can swoop in and fix it up for me..... After all, Karma does as its definition is.

It's worth a shot.

There's a quote I heard a while ago that has stuck with me ever since, something I believe you cannot get away from, therefore you must endeavour not to run away from it in the first place.

"No matter how deep you bury your seeds, they will always be unearthed."

There's something in the air

I haven't written in this blog for soooo long. So I guess there's no time like the present to let you know about the weather today.

Waking up, though we're still only a few days into Winter (and I remind you that it is a Melbourne Winter which means it started in April) I actually felt on the warm side, and didn't need to grab at my nightgown as soon as I stepped out of bed.

I thought to myself "naughty weather, you can't trick me," and still dressed appropriately for what I felt would be a cold day: 17 degrees, bit breezy with isolated showers. I didn't go over-the-top with a long jacket or anything, we just came off a few days of cold but sunny 19 degree weather.

And maybe that's what it is. Coming off of those sunny winter days, although still cold, the air had a warm tinge to it this morning as I walked into work, magenta beanie, oversized white wooly scarf protecting me from any bayside breezes that may come my way. But no jacket of course.

And as I sit here at my desk, I have that feeling. You know the one you get when you're in the midst of summer, and suddenly a cold change comes along, with rain and wind and all? I've got that feeling, that sense that a change is near, a 180 gust that will move with it all nature, people and events. A change is around the corner, and it's unexpectedness and unpredictability is a most welcome relief.

But then again it could just be because today is Friday and everyone is super relaxed:)

P.S I'm up to chapter 5 of my book! (Fist pump, go me!)

P.P.S Stay tuned to this space, as I will soon be filling you in on perhaps the biggest of the past month's events, the one including THE MOUSE. Why should I keep this story to myself, when I could be sharing my spent pain, agony, and paranoia with you?

High as a Kite

As much as I try to look beyond the surface of things, and learn about the world, and in general make myself as well-rounded, worldly and knowledgable as I possibly can, sometimes my naivety fails me. There will be a person that I unfairly judge. A situation that appears to be bad, that is in fact to my favour. Looking through my rose-coloured glasses, hopeful and brimming with love, I believe certain people around me will get along, failing to see their flaws, contradictory natures and incompatible views. It works both ways: positive turns to negative, and negative turns to positive.

There is one thing however that no one could ever fail to miss, no matter how naive at times you might be. And that is when your co-worker comes in to work, eyes as wide as golf balls, pupils as black as the night.

Like a demon out of Angel, it's disturbing and scary. And like my Mum says, you definitely 'know what time it is,' at that sight.

No-show boy, came into work yesterday, 40 minutes late, with his eyes as wide as a little boys who had seen a ghost. When I turned to him, I immediately thought to myself "he looks different." His eyes seemed to be stretched open, with his pupils burning black right back at me. I quickly said hello, made some small talk to him and then swivelled my chair back to my desk. He looked so frightening. He seemed more mellow, and spaced out, yet at the same time more cheery, as seen by his relaxed and happy display when he said hi to Densley.

I know he's harmless (fingers crossed) but I was freaked out by how weird he looked. His eyes were almost bottomless, as if I was looking into an endless black pool of nothingness. I avoided him 'til after lunch, when his eyes returned back to normal.

So weird. People, don't stuff yourself up. Stay sane, use your brain and don't let substances take control of your life. That's all I have to say.

Easter days have come to play

I need to immediately counterbalance my last post with a happier one.
:):):)

I am on the verge of 5 days off. Actually no, I am on 5 days off, because I don't have to work tomorrow. Tomorrow I go my sisters house, then Friday and Saturday I spend making 4-5 lots of cakes for Easter. Sunday I wrap things and organise the cakes (yum) before heading off to an Easter family party!
Monday I go to my sisters again (we're planning my Dad's surprise 70th birthday) then that night we have another Easter dinner..... and Tuesday Red and Mr Wine come over for Easter dinner to our place.... yikes it's all happening.

Let me tell you about what Easter treats I'm making:

Cappuccino cup cakes (they're a specialty of mine!)
White chocolate friands
Chocolate sweet narrow balls (it sounds weird I know, there's 5 naughty ingredients in there, out of 5 ingredients!)
and
2 lots of choc-chip hot cross buns!

I made the hot cross buns last year as well, and was really happy with them. So I've decided to do two dozen - some to give out, some to eat.
Om, om, om.

And now I'm tired. So concludes my happy post.

:):):)

The Part-Time Narcissist

The Part-Time Narcissist

In previous posts I've tried my best to avoid mentioning this person's name, even if it is just a nickname I'm providing. And although I've alluded to this person, it pains me to do so, as this person's energy simply drains me of all my wellbeing.

The person I'm talking about is Mouth.

Recent encounters over the past while have forced me into seeking assistance for the second time, by asking for guidance via a pouring-of-the-heart letter. The first response was encouraging: it acknowledged my pain and pretty much suggested to ignore her. That is really hard to do. Enter the second letter, which I wrote recently, and from which I received a response to last night. The antedote was short and sweet: "She's a narcissist. Read up on it. You will never change her."

Funnily enough, this enlightenment added further substantiation from a conversation I had with Kitty while at work yesterday. She and I were discussing a 'difficult' personality at work, and she also mentioned how her own Mum displays a lot of these same 'difficult' personality traits. I was suddenly overcome by a massive desire to purge my feelings, and so described Mouth to her, to see what she could tell me about her, and what she thought of her. After listening to my purge, she said a magic word that sent me on an Internet-hunt.

Narcissist.

Everywhere I turned to on the net, I saw descriptions confirming all that I'd experienced: egotistic, feels superiority over others, strong competitive drive, absorption in oneself, imitation of learned abilities. I was stunned. I'd found my answer, and was feeling pretty damn good about it. It wasn't so much that I felt superior over Mouth having discovered a personality type to attribute her to, rather I could now begin to understand what it was that made her like that and try to work out what it was I could do to cope with her. Having my second letter responded to, and having the answer be the same as what Kitty had suggested, confirmed my beliefs in a big way. I was on the right path.

It's gonna be a long journey, and having spent a good hour or so yesterday trawling through articles on Narcissistic qualities, I think I can ascertain that Mouth isn't purely Narcissistic, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt on that one. I don't think I can wholeheartedly apply this personality disorder to her. However, she displays very narcissistic qualities, ones that give the impression of simply more than a healthy dose of narcissisim that we all require in order to live healthy lives. While the majority of us may display a 20-40% dosage of healthy love for ourselves, she my friends is up to 80%. And at times I believe still counting.

I have realised that everything about her I can deduce from her being a 3/4 narcissistic personality. It all makes so much sense. Therefore with my analytical abilities kicked into gear, I present to you my field case (let me purge myself, please):

1. Self-absorbed Egotist - This is perhaps the strongest part of her narcissism. She makes everything about herself, any conversation someone else is telling, she must stop and interrupt the story to bring it back to herself, either by proclaiming "that happened to me.." or "that's like this time when..." It's all about her. If her daughter has a birthday, it's about Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a mother." If her sibling has a birthday, it comes back to Mouth. "X number of years ago I became a sister." I'm surprised when her parents birthday comes around, she doesn't say "when they were born X number of years ago, they had little itty bitty genital and reproductive organs getting into gear and beginning to grow, for the one perfect day that I would be born."
Every conversation contains I, me, my. Who am I kidding, every sentence.
Even if she is communicating bad or good news about someone else, not directly close or related to her, it still somehow ends up being about HER. "Oh, this lady I work with has X illness.... ohhhh, I feel so badly for her, I have been thinking of her all day.... I don't know what to do to help her.... I can't stop thinking about her... I feel so depressed." Enter case point number 2.

2. Negative whinger - As a follow on from the previous example, everything is so 'woe is me.' It doesn't take much to make her start whinging about anything: traffic, work, not enough time, not enough sleep, sick, gossiping about others, coughing, blowing nose, depression everywhere - in the news, at work, with family and friends - and these are all genuine examples that she regularly takes a part in to complain about. She can't see the happy side. She doesn't believe in the Universe and like attracting like.
Just the other day I was trying to help her, telling her not to dwell too much on the negative. When I started on "if you think negatively, you'll attract negative things, they'll come to you," with a dismiss of her hand she said "Oh, I don't believe in all that." Well then you have no hope. Doomed to live in a never ending spiral of sadness and depression. She will just start up about her sicknesses "I haven't been able to shake this cold for 4 weeks," and says it in this weak feeble voice trying to drum up any amount of attention and pity. I have no sympathy for you, you attract this all yourself. You're always sick! I'm sorry to sound so cruel, but your bullshit has no boundaries. I will only think you more pathetic if you continue on your 'poor me' charade. Which going from all I've read about narcissistic people, you will.
Last time we met someone said to her how they hardly ever see her happy, they wonder if she ever smiles anymore. Of course, she took offence to that. Her husband said "you don't live with her, she's not like that all the time." I almost spoke up and said "how can anyone see you differently then what you show to the world? Everytime we meet you act like that and say negative things, therefore that's what we think of you. It's that simple!"

3. Superior Perfection - She is better than anyone. She is perfect, even though when she says "I know no one's perfect" she believes herself to be more so than anyone else. She believes that her acknowledgement of that fact exempts her of the right to treat people as equals rather than her inferior. She says things like "oh, I don't go there anymore, I've moved up." She name drops brands, places and people in an effort to impress and make herself look high and mighty.
She is right in everything, often (always) confusing opinion for fact. When you remind her of this, she moves onto another argument or ignores it. Her opinion is the right and only way. And when you tell her it's only her opinion, and on the rare occasion that she does acknowledge it being opinion, she still ends the argument with "no, I believe X." No matter what you are talking about, she MUST have the final say. I'm yet to test it, but if I were to follow her afterword with "No, I believe this," she would again reiterate her point of view, even though she has already stated it umpteenth times. But she must have the final word. And she will compete with you 'til she's blue in the fact, just so she can have the final say. Speaking of competition, point number 4.

4. Competitive - She will compete in an argument. She will compete that her point of view is right all the time. She will compete that her way and the way she does things is the only way. She will compete families, her own children, houses, cars, sports teams, jobs, even physical bodies. If there is a way to prove herself better or smarter than someone, she will find a way to compete in it. She doesn't realise that everyone is different; life is not a game, it is a journey, and each journey finds within it different experiences. She doesn't realise this. It's all about winning. Winning is more important than peace. She would rather make an enemy by pushing her point of view and having the final say (above point) and 'win' the argument, than have peace and find a new friend in it. And if she feels that someone has it better than her, she will find a way to put them down, gossip about them, and turn their fortune into a most misfortunate event.
Case in point. When speaking of her own cousin, without being prompted by ANYONE in the room, she started talking directly to her eldest daughter, though speaking loud enough so that everybody in the room could clearly hear. (condescending tone): "My cousin takes her eldest daughter to folk dancing lessons - she pushes her daughter too hard, right daughter? I'm not going to push my daughters into classes so that I can't spend time with them?" See that? She turns an otherwise neutral event (her cousin taking her daughter to dance lessons) into a negative event, by twisting it into the explanation that her cousin is missing out on mother/daughter time by choosing to do so. Therefore making Mouth the winner (once again) because she is 'winning' by not taking her own daughter to dance lessons. What Mouth can't face or even begin to realise because of her own insecurities, is that she is denying any notions or thoughts of herself being a failure as a Mum (there is no failure in this, but because she isn't doing this, she sees it as competition) and because she refuses to do this she turns it into an ugly, unnecessary thing, that in fact causes more stress to the familial relationship, than any one person would ever think dance lessons to be. She turns everything into her favour. And will never see it any other way. If you like gardening, and she doesn't, in her mind you win. But not until she puts down the hobby with "I don't like gardening, it's boring: I'd rather spend my time with my children." Now that she has made you feel like a loser for doing one thing you like without your children (heaven forbid) SHE is now the winner in her mind.

5. Un-empathetic - This is a tricky one. When I first read this narcissistic trait, popping up again and again in all the web sites I visited, I thought, 'hmmm, she HAS empathy. She actually feels for people, asks about them and remembers their birthdays. EVERY birthday of practically everyone she's ever met. Remembers dates of all kinds that you wouldn't imagine. But I read something that made my head go ting! I read that although they may ask you how you are, they are actually working from an automatic memory, and don't actually care how you are. This is one zillion % true. And it applies to the remembering of birthdays too. Every single time we meet, she will without fail ask "how long did you work today?" (when I've worked that day) and "when are you working this week?" (another kind of competitiveness I believe). She never asks me deep, genuine questions. Nothing about me the 'person.' In fact, when the day comes that I become a well-known writer and my first book is released, I know she will ask me "I didn't know you wrote! Why didn't you tell me?" And I will respond with "well actually you never asked." Boom. (I know I've mentioned this future fantasy of mine in an earlier post about her, I just love the thought of telling her she's selfish in a round-a-bout way.)
Another evidential point to her lack of empathy is the way in which she interrupts others conversations. I know I've already mentioned this, but her lack of care in what other people think and have to say is very strong justification for my point. It's only important when she talks.
And the birthday thing. Her obsession with dates, birthdays, and remembering EVERYONES. Once again, I don't think she actually cares. She is doing it for the wrong reasons - out of a desire to show how great and perfect she is by remembering birthdays, and again I think there is competitiveness attached to that. But the reason she does that, is she has mirrored her mother (see below point).

6. Narcissus loved the mirror - Not just herself. But growing up, she mirrored her mother, who is a very lovely person, by copying the traits she admired of her. Her mother is a person that remembers peoples birthdays and dates, and she took that on board, as she believed that made her an admirable person. However she's gone one step too far, in thinking that because she remembers, it somehow excuses her being a horrible person elsewhere (not that she would admit to being a horrible person - she would turn that accusation on your head and accuse you of being a horrible person for saying that to such a sweet, lovely, well-meaning person such as herself. Give me a break.)
Mirroring is a narcissitic trait. It is taken from an authority figure. And who is more authoritative to you as a young child than your own parent?
A narcissistic trait mentioned in the sites I've read is how these kinds of people like to get away from jobs, duties, they 'cheat' at work, and leave others to do their work. She is nothing at all like this, she actually does not stop, whether at work or at home (from what she tells me in her self-praise) and I believe it to be true. However again I feel this is a result of her mirroring the work values of her mother. So you see, everything is falling into place.

BACKGROUND

I haven't asked directly, but I have heard, and witnessed for myself a few things. So I can try to deduce a theory as to why she is the way she is.
She is naturally an attention-seeker, mirroring her own dad. Add to that her star sign, which on it's own has attention-seeking qualities, and you have a double whammy. Add to that, her parents, well not being necessarily frighteningly hard on her, but let's just say whenever she got an A for school work, instead of "Congratulations! Well done daughter!" she got "okay.... let's see if you can keep it up." Not getting the compliments she rightly deserved was the trifecta that I believe made her a rolling moss ball of insecurity, meaning she had to start speaking highly of herself because no one would do it for her, in order to preserve her self-image. This is no fault of her parents. They only did what they received themselves as children from their own parents. And when you see it from that side, you can't even blame her. It is the combination of the three factors that resulted in her strong tendency to display almost all narcissistic qualities.

Although her background does play a part in her narcissism, you can't blame a person for their star sign, or their intrinsic character, right? Yes and no. Everyone has the common sense and intelligence to determine what's right and wrong in the world. Maybe not so much when you're growing up, but they can change themselves as they grown older and out of childhood. The fact that looking around her as she's grown up, witnessing others, she still hasn't had the wake up call to a higher level of human decency, is beyond me. She has no self-awareness. Self-awareness is the most important thing in order to understand and better yourself. She can never be better, or even amount to a good, decent person at the rate she's going. The constant denial she lives in is staggering, and I would actually be afraid to enter her mind and witness the never-ending excuses she makes for every part of her life.

Hubbie asks me often "why does this bother you so much? Why can't you just let it go, forget about it, you can't change her!" And I don't know what part it is of me that drives me so, but like her tendencies towards narcissism, I too react due to a combination of factors. Firstly, due to my mother, I have a strong desire to need to prove people wrong when they are acting badly. Secondly, being of the same star sign as Mouth herself, and having made the decision when I was in early high school, after reading more of the 'unfavourable' qualities of my sign, I decided then and there that I would strive towards being the best of that sign, rather than the worst. Therefore, the fact that she represents the worst in all it has to offer, particularly maddens me. And no it's not that I am competitive against her. I don't like competition. Unless it's a game with a prize, it's not needed in life. Everyone is a unique and beautiful individual. I feel she is a bad representation of that sign, and being of that sign myself, is very upsetting (I believe in my signs!)

This analytical purging has helped immensely. Learning about her narcissism has also helped me in a massive way, even though most texts proclaim, 'they can never be changed.' Even with that, I don't feel so bad, because, now I know who and what I'm dealing with. Now that I know the game being played, I can move my chess pieces accordingly.
Check Mate.

French Kiss the Morning

Prior to my affogato burst early last week, I was buzzing on something entirely different the previous Saturday night.

Cosmopolitans.

And because of that, I don't think I'll be having any Cosmo's for a LOOONNNNGGGG time.

Let me explain.

It was one of our closest friend's 30th birthday that weekend. Her and her husband, being big spenders, had a pretty extravagant evening planned. A group of 10 of us, were driven over to an exclusive waterfront restaurant, had a HUGE 3 course meal feast, PLENTY of drinks, and then were all driven to a city bar, where we continued to drink, and drink, and drink.... (and dance on podiums....!)

Boy did I pay for it the next day. Following a night, where I had one glass of wine, and about 7-8 Cosmopolitans, it took all the energy I had to keep awake on the drive home. Because I knew if I fell asleep, I might chunder, per Men At Work lyrics.

Getting home, I managed to brush my teeth and remove my make-up with one of those handy moisturised make-up removal wipes. As I crashed into bed, with Hubbie already in his 10th dream beside me, I closed my eyes.

And the world started spinning a dizzying black.

I opened them and closed them. I tried to still the blackness, but everything was whir, whir, whirring. And then I just knew what I had to do.

It wasn't so much that I felt it, more than I sensed it. Then again, maybe my purely intoxicated state disguised the nausea I was feeling. I ran to the toilet and vomited.

No. 1.

Nothing unusual here.... the contents I mean. I had clearly had way too many cocktails towards the end of the night, and my stomach was just emptying out the spare fluid. I went back to bed, and can't remember the rest.

The next morning I very slowly woke up. You know when you're waking up, and it takes you a good few minutes to realise you're awake, and not dreaming? Yeah that's called a hangover.

The hilarious thing about this moment of the day, was that I was in bed, 9:30am, thinking I should get up because the alcohol was still in my system and wouldn't let me fall asleep again. Lying there, I remember looking around the bed sheets and going "I need to wash these, I think I'll do that today." I could see bright light peeking through the blinds, and knew the sun would dry my washing quicker. I thought I'd be good, and despite the previous 'big night,' do some cleaning and washing, before Hubbie got home from work (yes poor thing on a Sunday) and we went out again, to a friend's sons 1st birthday.

Yeah right.

As soon as I was upright, I felt my stomach begin to move. And the nausea just kept getting worse. Previous times that I've over-drank and been sick, I've been sick the night of the craziness, rather than the night after. So I couldn't understand why I felt this way, seeing as I'd chucked the night before. I put it down to needing a coffee and some toast to fill my empty belly, and went about, in agony, preparing my breakfast.

I sat down on the couch to watch tv while I ate my brekkie. The only thing I ended up watching was my plate of toast and coffee mug. I couldn't touch it. I couldn't go near it. I was feeling so unwell by this stage, that I started to doubt whether I actually needed any food. But yet again, in my stubborness to see the situation, I decided to have a sip or two of coffee, followed by a bite of toast.

I was trying to talk myself into it. Internally I was like 'yes the coffee is helping, that's all I need.' Several minutes passed before I attempted another bite. As soon as I began to chew though, the wretchedness started moving from my stomach, into my throat.

I ran to the toilet, posing stationary above it. Realising I still had uneaten toast in my mouth, I ran to the kitchen and spat it into a tissue, disposing of it in the bin. Don't ask me why I did this, but I'm glad I did. I ran back to the toilet, and stood there, waiting. But nothing came immediately. Only my mobile started to ring.

Hubbie had already called me once that morning, before I started feeling so bad. So I was highly doubtful of it being him again. I walked over to my phone, and saw 'Dad.'

I paused a second. Should I answer? I decided I would, knowing that I could talk my way out of it, without anyone being none the wiser of my ailing condition. He couldn't see me.

Hahahahahahaha.

I answered, and he was like "Are you awake?"

Suspicion started creeping into me. "Yeah, I'm just having breakfast, why?"

"Oh well me and your mum are standing outside, and all the blinds are closed.... we're going to the plaza, and thought we'd stop by if it's alright, we haven't seen you in a while...."

That, I believe, is the definition of Murphy's Law.

"Oh, yeah, come in, no problems...."

Had I spat my uneaten toast in the toilet, I wouldn't have had time to run back and flush. It was like my sixth sense had been telling me to.... "be clean."
LOL.

I answered the door, still in pyjamas and nightgown, and they sat down. I knew my best bet was to not hide my tiredness, or my big night, because although I could hide my need to be sick, if they thought I was simply tired, they would think me leaning on the couch, all fetal position like, meant I just needed sleep.

Look, my parents are really cool. My Mum surprises me when she says "nooooo, it's not bad that you can see your bra through that see-through top!" and my dad impresses me with his stories of youth and the crazy things he did back then, like getting into jail and stuff :) (He's really, very good, which is why it's funny!) If I was sick, or showed myself to be sick in front of them, they'd just get unnecessarily worried, and that I didn't need. One person was enough for me to worry about, and at that moment I couldn't even look after that one person properly.

(Deep breath, I feel myself getting nauseous just thinking about it!)

So I acted my way through it. I made small chit chat. I willingly offered the previous nights story, and the plans for the rest of the day, then let them do the rest of the talking, only answering when absolutely necessary. The visit only lasted for 10-15 minutes. All the while I breathed, willing the contents of my stomach not to come flying out of me.

I did feel so bad. I didn't want my parents to think my silence meant my not-wanting them to be there. But I hoped they would just put it down to my 'tiredness.'

I stood at the door and waved to them as they drove off. And then I ran upstairs to the toilet. (I don't know why I went upstairs, I think I was more comfortable there, as it was there I'd thrown up the night before.)

And yes I threw up. Anything I'd managed to consume of my breakfast went. As well as I think some of the night before.

I sat back on the couch, my stomach feeling lighter, and less nauseous. I thought, 'good, now I'll wait 'til I'm 100%, then I'll get myself ready for later on.'

Wrong.

I sat there on the couch for over an hour. I managed to get up and walk around, throw my brekkie away, and sit back down on the couch. I was so crook. Then again, up the stairs I went.

I stood in front of the toilet, gagging for ages. And then I vomited. Again.

This time it WAS from last night. And I swear, I tasted something citrus-y that resembled the overly-abused Cosmo's. Ugh.

That was the last time I threw up. I couldn't believe how sick I'd been and how many times I'd thrown up, so long after the fact. The rest of the story goes: Hubbie came home, convinced me that I'd feel better if I started getting ready; through many tears of protest 'I still need to vomit!' I got ready; we drove to the 1st birthday party; I sat in the stationary car, there, holding my plastic bag, swearing I was gonna throw - I didn't; we survived the party, I put on the best show of my life; and I had my first bit of food at 4pm, that didn't reverse back on me - chocolate cake.

I hadn't eaten 'til 4pm. I'd had plenty of water and soda water, oh and bits of turkish bread from Hubbie's meal. I'd been terrified to consume something in case I became a regurgitating monster in front of everyone at the party, a la Exorcist style.

Had some Macca's chips at the end of the night, and some bites of Hubbie's burger, as we sat at home, still tired from the night before, I myself COMPLETELY drained of energy. Yeah, I know, so healthy right.

But the point of all this is the vomiting. My theory is, since I'd broken the vomit-from-overconsumption-of-alcohol seal, my stomach is now more sensitive, and more likely to throw up alcohol (never mind me overconsuming it!)

I'd taken pride my whole life in proclaiming that I'd never vomited from alcohol. I could always say that I'd drank heaps, but felt tough and strong, and alcoholically able in knowing my stomach could withstand any combination of potent fluids I put into it, MWA HA HA!

But then I broke the seal.


Seal Breaker 1:

My second Christmas party at this my current employer. I decided I hadn't been loose enough my first year, so went about in drinking more that year. Ended up in the toilets, throwing up, with a really sweet colleague calling out "Miss S, are you alright?" over the cubicles (she hung around because a male cleaner was in the toilet, I know, how nice of her right?) I blacked out the second half of the night and fell asleep at the club we were at. A window totally was smashed in near me and I missed it all, all because I got drunk and passed out. A friend took me home that night in his car, and for his kind troubles I invited him to my wedding :)
Then, I only threw up that night. I was queasy the next day, but I didn't projectile anything.

Seal Breaker 2:

Blonde's sisters Hen's night, of which I've mentioned in my post "WOW. What a weekend/s, what a week/s." It was the first girls night I'd been out to since I got married. I got WAAYYY too excited, so much so that I just couldn't waste the champagne that was left behind, (part of the complimentary drinks for our party) when the guest of honour and her friends left (yes, Red and I outstayed the hostess). So I drank it all. I said 'I love you' heaps to Red, or so she tells me. She says I was really amusing and funny, and still funny when she and her sister had to practically carry me back to their car. I stopped being funny when I warned of throwing up in her car on the way home.
Hubbie thought I was being funny when I said, "I'm sick, I'm gonna throw up," as I stumbled my way up to our bedroom late that night/early morning. But when he heard me heaving my lungs out in the toilet, he realised he wasn't gonna get any funny-ness that night.
Again. I only threw up that night, and was left nursing my poor stomach the next day.

This time however, my 3rd time, I've broken my seal altogether, as well as breaking a new seal, that of throwing up THE DAY AFTER. I'm getting more and more out of control. However in an effort to not throw up ever again from alcohol (as I sat in my PJs for half of last Sunday, I felt so crap, and made myself remember the feeling so as to not do it ever again) I've found the link between the 3 seal breaker scenarios, and realise the circumstance under which I must be careful of going overboard. It's simple really.

All 3 times I said to myself internally "I'm gonna make the most of tonight."

It's simple enough yes I know. And most times you would imagine anyone to want to have a great night out, it's practically a given. However, when I look at my watch, and start realising the night is ending, I kick it up a notch, turn it up a gear, and start getting really crazy. And that's what happened all these 3 times. That and all 3 times I wasn't driving.

My warning thoughts are as follows:

* wanting to have a really good time, because I haven't partied in ages
* wanting to have a really good time, because I want to make the most of it
* wanting to have a really good time, because I didn't make the most of it last time
* wanting to have a really good time, because I'm not driving
* wanting to have a really good time, just for no reason at all

So there has it. I've discovered my internal mental cues, the 'warning signs,' to a potentially messy night. All because I broke my alcoholic seal. Stupid.