All I remember is that my last post was about something where I was trying to be funny and light-hearted despite the world-turning that’s been going on since the beginning of the year.
I know this because I remember writing it and thinking “liar Miss S., liar.”
I was trying to put up a bit of a front, in the midst of not knowing what to write, and how the hell to write it.
And the reason I don’t know what I last posted, isn’t just because there’s been so much time between then and now, but also because I write almost all of my posts in emails and word docs before actually posting. I’m actually not on blogger as I write this. I have this fear that the day I do write a post from the ‘New Post’ page that it will be some meaningful, monumental essay that will delete when the computer I’m on randomly crashes.
Random things. I both love them and hate them.
Random is the case in point as I think of how this all started.
I had holidays planned for Feb, and before resuming them I had such wonderful visions of what they would entail. Coffee, shopping, catch-ups with friends, and just general all-round happiness.
The first shock was in finding out about the deaths of the two guys I went to high school with. As much as it rocked my world, within days of writing the post about it and learning to come to terms with it, I was feeling better, and vowing to make my life and my existence an important one in light of how quickly things can change.
THEN.
We were all rocked when quite suddenly a very close member of Hubbie’s family discovered something horrible concerning his health. And my visions of holiday bliss, were quickly changed into accompanying Hubbie to the hospital on more than half the days I was away from work. In trying to remain discreet, let’s just say this is the fight of his life.
I hope I don’t come across as selfish or inconsiderate as I write this. I feel deeply, deeply sorry for the wellbeing of this member, and wish them full health as they struggle to regain balance and return to some sense of normalcy in their life. It will be a long battle, but we all remain positive that he will come out in the end a positive story, an inspiration to others.
It’s just that, there was a moment of… well it’s hard to say. I was annoyed. Not at him, not at the situation, but, in life.
I consider myself a highly organised, highly structured person. I know where all my shoes sit, exactly where all the plates and glasses go in the kitchen drawers, and if I see a book adjusted slightly on the bookshelf, I’ll ask Hubbie “did you read my Shakespeare book?”
I don’t try to be overly obsessive about these things, I’m just naturally an ordered person, and I like it when everything has its place, because I have a lot of stuff. I get it from my Dad, I’m sure. He did the whole army thing, so he knows all about discipline and order.
I was feeling highly frustrated. Not only were my holidays not how they were meant to be, all with getting up early, spending all day in the hospital and then returning home late at night, but there were other pressing matters getting to me. I wanted to finish my book, and had given myself ‘til the end of my holidays to do it. I said to myself, “I know this is bad, but I just have to keep going. Life will throw things at me. But I need to keep writing.”
And there were MORE pressing issues at hand, hopefully some of which I’ll be able to post about in months to come. I was being supportive to Hubbie, but I just felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and disappointment in thinking of all the things this year was meant to be, and suddenly realising that EVERYTHING had changed. It was extremely upsetting.
I know, I’m a bitch. The problem with being as self-aware as I am is that I step out of my body all the time and preview the things I’m doing in my life. And in this instance, I was stepping back and saying “you selfish, selfish person.”
And the problem was, not even the awareness of feeling the way I was helped me to get over it. It just made me more desperate, sad, annoyed and frustrated. The frustrated-ness was feeding the selfishness, and the selfishness was feeding the frustrated-ness. It was an ongoing cycle that I couldn’t seem to break.
Today, months later, the situation hasn’t changed much. Only time, facts, learning to cope with it and continuing to live life are the things that have helped make the situation… better? I wouldn’t say better, but we have the upmost positive attitude towards this life changing event, and truly believe things will get better and eventually get back to normal.
What do you do? You have to eventually go back to living life. Because life doesn’t wait for you.
I have learnt to cope with it. I think I needed a bit of time to just stew, whinge that “things weren’t meant to be like this” and go into a depression, in my path to accepting that this was now our reality. I’m totally used to it now, am aware that in life things aren’t always going to be perfect, and I’m just learning to move on and work around this thing without compromising the things I’ve always wanted to do.
I hope I don’t sound too horrible a person. I’m coupled with an infinite amount of empathy, but with it comes an unexpected dose of selfishness. It’s just me. I try to be better, but some leopard spots just don’t change.
As I got to terms with all that was going on, I kept going on with my life. As planned, I finished my book on the last day of my holidays, YAY! It was very exciting for me, and if I do say so myself, I had a couple of tears trickling down my cheeks from happiness. Writing and the entire creation process is an extremely emotional one. You put so much of yourself, your heart, soul and passions into it, that at the end you end up feeling completely overwhelmed by it all.
I’m currently in the process of doing my second draft, and I have two chapters left to go over. Then I will go and research those little bits and pieces that I have to add to the book, go over it a third time (more thoroughly than the second time but hopefully a bit faster!) and then I’ll consider myself kind of done :)
Towards the end of my holidays in Feb I did end up doing a bit of what I’d been craving for at the beginning: coffee, shopping and catch-ups. In fact, I had the best day out with my sister. I just love her so much. I’m not being biased either. She is, THE BOMB.
Later on as well, Red and I ended up going to the cemetery where our friends were buried. We found Wavy first, then after a bit more searching up and down the rows, we came across Seven. Because the burials were relatively fresh, the headstones hadn’t yet been put up, and standing where we were in front of Seven’s site, we could look in front of us about a row or two up, to see Wavy’s. They’d been friends, been in the same classes, the same school, and had died within months of each other. And were now buried within metres of each other too.
Red and I had a few moments just standing there in front of them. Just thinking. I said a quiet goodbye.
On top of that, there were two sudden deaths in amongst all of this, (well maybe one was not so sudden) on Hubbie’s side of the family. It’s just been one thing after another.
Despite the general gloom of this post, I feel things have been much better in the last few months than how I’ve expressed them to be here. Yes, all these things did happen, and yes, some were really bad, and some were really good. (We bought a new car too!)
It’s just the way you see things I guess. Despite how shit I felt earlier in the year, I’m a glass half-full type of gal. I look back at all that and go “well, you learn. Things change.”
And within weeks of all of it first going down, I turned and said to Hubbie “you know what? We’re going to be the ones to bring the sunshine back into their life. We’re going to bring to them the good news that’s been a long time coming. That’s our role in all of this.”
And I truly believe it is.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
My Blonde Moment
Ha. That suggests I’ve never had others.
I feel like I have the privileged authority of calling attention to blonde moments, because I’ve been blonde before. It wasn’t an all over one tone blonde, but I had that many streaks going through my hair, that when I looked back at those photos of me years later, I was like “Woah. I was like really blonde.”
I’ve now gone from a dark brown (already my hair colour) to a deep red. Anyone who has gone from dark hair to red, knows that the colour ends up being more like a deep burgundy that can only really be seen in sunlight, well-lit areas and in the shower when you see the colour running away down the drain.
I’m melting, I’m melting.
Red says it will take me several more go’s to get my hair a brighter red, which I intend on following through with. I feel like getting a bit crazy.
Anyway, enough with the hair. Onto the moment.
There’s this cheap car park (or should I say long street of angled parking) about a 5 minute walk to my work, which I try get to when I drive in. It seems that the more time goes by, the more people seem to be discovering it, and are getting there at ridiculous times in order to nab a spot, even though their work shifts don’t start for a while. I know this because I am that one such person.
Today I got there just under half hour before my early morning shift. That time a couple of days ago, there were perhaps 6-7 spots left. Today at the exact same time, the last spot was just being taken. Grrr.
To make matters worse, the person getting the last spot just kind of hovered there with their indicator on, not turning into it until I drove past. Annoying. Trying to rub it in huh?
So I had to go to my back-up plan. This other open car park that I used to park at for years before I discovered the cheaper one, is half the distance. So despite being double the price, there is that one benefit. Only annoying thing about it is, you have to pay into this stupid machine that only takes coins, or credit card.
Well I didn’t come prepared with enough coins, did I? I’d paid via credit there before, so pulling up to the stupid machine in the pitch-black morning, I pulled out my blue card from my wallet, and inserted it.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So again.
I put the card in. The machine said to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I still had no ticket, and the damn boom gate still hadn’t moved.
I repeated this about another 4 times I think. Frustration and anxiety building at every moment because another car was waiting behind me. After he high-beamed, and after one more failed attempt, I got out of the car to ask him for help. Maybe I was putting in the card wrong, though I was doing it the way the machine illustration was telling me to.
“Sorry,” I started.
“Can you reverse, so I can try?” he asked briskly.
“Yeah.” I walked back to my car, upset, and reversed to the side. I watched as he put in his card, and within moments, he was through the boom gate.
At this stage the guy who works at the car park arrived. Feeling a bit better, knowing if it didn’t work he could perhaps help me out, I went forward again.
I tried again.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So I called out “excuse me.”
He came over. “Oh, what have you done now. You come back once in a blue moon and you can’t work the machine.”
Grrrr.
“I’ve done this like 6 times, and it keeps saying it’s authorising, then it goes back to normal. I just hope it hasn’t charged me all those times.”
“No, it shouldn’t, only if it goes through all the way.”
“Am I putting it in right?”
As I handed him my card, he looked at it and said “hmm, it’s a debit card.”
“It’s a credit card,” I confirmed, and as I said that I looked at the card as he handed it back to me.
It’s my freaking car insurance member card.
“Uh, maybe another credit card will work,” I fumbled as I ripped out my actual genuine credit card, while he walked behind the back of the stand.
I watched the machine with anticipation, feeling like a complete idiot, sooooo glad the guy hadn’t worked it out yet. If he had, he would’ve paid me out, BIG TIME.
The machine made a ringing noise as it displayed ‘wait for your ticket.’
And then the gate opened.
I felt like a complete tool. Both cards are blue, and were sitting relatively close to each other in my wallet. It was an easy mistake I guess, but seriously, all I could think in that moment was.
What a blonde.
It’s also like the time I typed in my Eftpos card password into the alarm code at my previous job, crying out ‘why won’t you turn off?’ while the alarm chimed loudly threatening to go off at any moment.
10 seconds of fear later and my comprehension kicked in. I was getting my monthlies, blame them.
I feel like I have the privileged authority of calling attention to blonde moments, because I’ve been blonde before. It wasn’t an all over one tone blonde, but I had that many streaks going through my hair, that when I looked back at those photos of me years later, I was like “Woah. I was like really blonde.”
I’ve now gone from a dark brown (already my hair colour) to a deep red. Anyone who has gone from dark hair to red, knows that the colour ends up being more like a deep burgundy that can only really be seen in sunlight, well-lit areas and in the shower when you see the colour running away down the drain.
I’m melting, I’m melting.
Red says it will take me several more go’s to get my hair a brighter red, which I intend on following through with. I feel like getting a bit crazy.
Anyway, enough with the hair. Onto the moment.
There’s this cheap car park (or should I say long street of angled parking) about a 5 minute walk to my work, which I try get to when I drive in. It seems that the more time goes by, the more people seem to be discovering it, and are getting there at ridiculous times in order to nab a spot, even though their work shifts don’t start for a while. I know this because I am that one such person.
Today I got there just under half hour before my early morning shift. That time a couple of days ago, there were perhaps 6-7 spots left. Today at the exact same time, the last spot was just being taken. Grrr.
To make matters worse, the person getting the last spot just kind of hovered there with their indicator on, not turning into it until I drove past. Annoying. Trying to rub it in huh?
So I had to go to my back-up plan. This other open car park that I used to park at for years before I discovered the cheaper one, is half the distance. So despite being double the price, there is that one benefit. Only annoying thing about it is, you have to pay into this stupid machine that only takes coins, or credit card.
Well I didn’t come prepared with enough coins, did I? I’d paid via credit there before, so pulling up to the stupid machine in the pitch-black morning, I pulled out my blue card from my wallet, and inserted it.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So again.
I put the card in. The machine said to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I still had no ticket, and the damn boom gate still hadn’t moved.
I repeated this about another 4 times I think. Frustration and anxiety building at every moment because another car was waiting behind me. After he high-beamed, and after one more failed attempt, I got out of the car to ask him for help. Maybe I was putting in the card wrong, though I was doing it the way the machine illustration was telling me to.
“Sorry,” I started.
“Can you reverse, so I can try?” he asked briskly.
“Yeah.” I walked back to my car, upset, and reversed to the side. I watched as he put in his card, and within moments, he was through the boom gate.
At this stage the guy who works at the car park arrived. Feeling a bit better, knowing if it didn’t work he could perhaps help me out, I went forward again.
I tried again.
The machine told me to ‘hold card in until told otherwise.’
Then it said ‘remove card.’
Then it said, ‘wait, card authorising.’
Then the screen went back to normal, I had no ticket, and the damn boom gate hadn’t moved.
So I called out “excuse me.”
He came over. “Oh, what have you done now. You come back once in a blue moon and you can’t work the machine.”
Grrrr.
“I’ve done this like 6 times, and it keeps saying it’s authorising, then it goes back to normal. I just hope it hasn’t charged me all those times.”
“No, it shouldn’t, only if it goes through all the way.”
“Am I putting it in right?”
As I handed him my card, he looked at it and said “hmm, it’s a debit card.”
“It’s a credit card,” I confirmed, and as I said that I looked at the card as he handed it back to me.
It’s my freaking car insurance member card.
“Uh, maybe another credit card will work,” I fumbled as I ripped out my actual genuine credit card, while he walked behind the back of the stand.
I watched the machine with anticipation, feeling like a complete idiot, sooooo glad the guy hadn’t worked it out yet. If he had, he would’ve paid me out, BIG TIME.
The machine made a ringing noise as it displayed ‘wait for your ticket.’
And then the gate opened.
I felt like a complete tool. Both cards are blue, and were sitting relatively close to each other in my wallet. It was an easy mistake I guess, but seriously, all I could think in that moment was.
What a blonde.
It’s also like the time I typed in my Eftpos card password into the alarm code at my previous job, crying out ‘why won’t you turn off?’ while the alarm chimed loudly threatening to go off at any moment.
10 seconds of fear later and my comprehension kicked in. I was getting my monthlies, blame them.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Symmetry is screwed.... (The Peculiarity of Symmetry Part 2)
So last night we got a phone call from Hubbie's best mate. He'd heard the bad news that a guy I went to high school with, or rather we all went to high school with but he was closer in age to me and my friends, well he died on the weekend from a motorbike accident.
We were really shocked, myself probably more so. We were in several classes together, we spoke often, and I have vivid memories of him. He wasn't like a friend friend, but you know when the whole class sort of knows everyone, and everyone interacts? Well he was that person to me and my friends. At one point he was something more to one of my friends, but we'll get to that later.
He meant well, but for some reason as he got older, he deliberately pursued getting involved with the bad crowd. He deliberately made trouble in and out of class so as to gain attention, and be recognised as a bad boy. We could really see through it. Maybe that was due to the fact that he was a year younger than us, and we weren't as easily impressed by those tactics than if they had been performed by someone older than us who we feared/looked up to. That goes hand in hand in high school.
So when I heard the news about (we'll call him Seven) him yesterday, I couldn't help but think about him and be shocked by the whole events. I hadn't really heard of him since those high school days, and every so often if someone from that year was mentioned, my mind couldn't help but wander and think of where he had ended up.
So Red was my friend who he was more than just a school friend to at one stage. He was the first guy she kissed, however it didn't go any further than that, and all of us, with he and his friends, remained good friends throughout those early years of high school.
I called Red yesterday to see if she had heard. I already suspected she may have, just with the fact that everyone knows everyone: and she had. She was shocked too by it all. And then she told me something else.
"Miss S, did you hear about - (we'll call him Wavy)?"
"Which wavy?" (there are a lot of people with this common name Wavy.)
"Wavy, the one you kissed?"
"What?"
"He had c------."
I couldn't hear her. "What?"
"He had cancer. He died months ago."
I was floored. This was a guy I hadn't seen since my high school days either. I'd often wondered where he had ended up, as usually I saw some people from high school around and about, shopping, clubs, whatever. But he and his friends, (and he was sort of in the same group as Seven) I never heard anything of, and I always wondered if they were all in some bad crowd and that's why we never saw them.
Both Seven and Wavy were in similar groups. They were both a year younger than Red and I. They had died within months of each other. And they were both our first kiss'.
....
....
....
They say bad luck comes in threes, but for something like this, so horrible to happen, and then to start to see the likeness behind it all, the weird 'coincidences', is scary. I was more in shock yesterday, keen to get home and check facebook because Red told me she'd seen a memorial page for him there. She'd kept forgetting to tell me about it.
It was so hard to find it. I didnt know his last name, and I was trying all kinds of searches. And then the net kept playing up on me. Finally, after midnight last night (or should I say this morning) I found the R.I.P page dedicated to him. It was a combination of sickness, shock and dark acceptance that ran through me as I looked at the photo they had put up of him. Wavy's photo looked like him, just a but more manly, you know how guys bulk up a bit over time. Then I went to look at more photos of him that had been put up, and I almost turned away saying "no that's not him."
That horrible horrible disease. He didn't look like him. I feel so upset just thinking of it now. It's so unfair. I actually convinced myself for a moment that I had the wrong Wavy, until I looked closer at the photos. His face looked different, and his hair was closely shaved due to the treatment I'm guesing. He was such a good looking guy. He was really sweet, and really nice.
He never treated me bad. There was in fact nothing he ever did wrong. It was all me, and never was the statement "it's not you, it's me" more truer than in this case. Honestly, I liked him, and I had him for a short while until I realised I wanted something different. I was honest with him when I broke it off, and although he took it well, I have so much guilt now, wondering if I hurt his feelings or made him feel horrible.
It's amazing you know. You don't think someone has affected you, until they're gone. It's weird because I've thought of him at odd times during the years, and at one point said to myself "it's like he's fallen off the face of the earth." I actually thought that. And a couple of months ago, I thought I saw him on a train. But thinking of those photos I saw, that wasn't him on the train. Definitely not.
It may sound overly self-indulgent, and I don't mean it to sound that way, but I just hope that none of my actions affected him and made his life different. I may not have had that kind of impact on his life, just from one moment in time: and hey, I really hope I didn't. I just pray and hope that he had lots of love and happiness surrounding him at all times. And that he wasn't alone. Even though ultimately, we all die alone.
It's breaking me up inside.
I've already kind of said my goodbye, but it still feels weird, unfinished. I wish I'd known. I don't know what I could have done, what I would have done, but I almost feel like asking Red if she wants to visit their gravesites, even though I have no idea where they are. She's as blown away by all this as I am, and she is also freaking out about the symmetry of it all.
I've had a cousin murdered, another cousin commit suicide, an aunty die suddenly of cancer; and as devastating as all those things were, I'm really shook by this. They were both so young, younger than myself. For Wavy, especially, I know it's cliche to say but he didn't deserve it. He was really a greay guy. As someone on his memory page said, he hadn't even had a chance to be a husband, a father. That is so unfair.
Because he played such a monumental role in my life, as short as the time was, that's why I think I'm so blown away by it all. He died such a short time ago, and his family and friends are still writing things on his page and posting photos. It was devastating to read, but I guess good knowing he was so loved, is so loved.
I hadn't seen him for such a long time. Never would I imagine this would happen, and that he would mark such strong emotions in me after his death. I'm still in shock. I don't know what to think. I pray and hope he is safe, well and in peace where he is right now.
When it comes to death, I have no answers. I try to live my life on a positive scale every day, and look at the good, and the secret messages in everything, even the bad. I struggle when it comes to death though. As I wrote to Red "The only thing we can do is take this experience and use it to keep pursuing our dreams, keep moving forward. We can only try."
We are the lucky ones. We are still breathing, still living. Every day is a blessing. Be happy (although I'm almost crying). Live life to the fullest. Do what your heart says. Because for some, life is too short, and for others, it is too painful. So enjoy the moments you have, and always be grateful that at the very least you have your breath.
R.I.P Seven.
R.I.P Wavy. I will always remember you.
We were really shocked, myself probably more so. We were in several classes together, we spoke often, and I have vivid memories of him. He wasn't like a friend friend, but you know when the whole class sort of knows everyone, and everyone interacts? Well he was that person to me and my friends. At one point he was something more to one of my friends, but we'll get to that later.
He meant well, but for some reason as he got older, he deliberately pursued getting involved with the bad crowd. He deliberately made trouble in and out of class so as to gain attention, and be recognised as a bad boy. We could really see through it. Maybe that was due to the fact that he was a year younger than us, and we weren't as easily impressed by those tactics than if they had been performed by someone older than us who we feared/looked up to. That goes hand in hand in high school.
So when I heard the news about (we'll call him Seven) him yesterday, I couldn't help but think about him and be shocked by the whole events. I hadn't really heard of him since those high school days, and every so often if someone from that year was mentioned, my mind couldn't help but wander and think of where he had ended up.
So Red was my friend who he was more than just a school friend to at one stage. He was the first guy she kissed, however it didn't go any further than that, and all of us, with he and his friends, remained good friends throughout those early years of high school.
I called Red yesterday to see if she had heard. I already suspected she may have, just with the fact that everyone knows everyone: and she had. She was shocked too by it all. And then she told me something else.
"Miss S, did you hear about - (we'll call him Wavy)?"
"Which wavy?" (there are a lot of people with this common name Wavy.)
"Wavy, the one you kissed?"
"What?"
"He had c------."
I couldn't hear her. "What?"
"He had cancer. He died months ago."
I was floored. This was a guy I hadn't seen since my high school days either. I'd often wondered where he had ended up, as usually I saw some people from high school around and about, shopping, clubs, whatever. But he and his friends, (and he was sort of in the same group as Seven) I never heard anything of, and I always wondered if they were all in some bad crowd and that's why we never saw them.
Both Seven and Wavy were in similar groups. They were both a year younger than Red and I. They had died within months of each other. And they were both our first kiss'.
....
....
....
They say bad luck comes in threes, but for something like this, so horrible to happen, and then to start to see the likeness behind it all, the weird 'coincidences', is scary. I was more in shock yesterday, keen to get home and check facebook because Red told me she'd seen a memorial page for him there. She'd kept forgetting to tell me about it.
It was so hard to find it. I didnt know his last name, and I was trying all kinds of searches. And then the net kept playing up on me. Finally, after midnight last night (or should I say this morning) I found the R.I.P page dedicated to him. It was a combination of sickness, shock and dark acceptance that ran through me as I looked at the photo they had put up of him. Wavy's photo looked like him, just a but more manly, you know how guys bulk up a bit over time. Then I went to look at more photos of him that had been put up, and I almost turned away saying "no that's not him."
That horrible horrible disease. He didn't look like him. I feel so upset just thinking of it now. It's so unfair. I actually convinced myself for a moment that I had the wrong Wavy, until I looked closer at the photos. His face looked different, and his hair was closely shaved due to the treatment I'm guesing. He was such a good looking guy. He was really sweet, and really nice.
He never treated me bad. There was in fact nothing he ever did wrong. It was all me, and never was the statement "it's not you, it's me" more truer than in this case. Honestly, I liked him, and I had him for a short while until I realised I wanted something different. I was honest with him when I broke it off, and although he took it well, I have so much guilt now, wondering if I hurt his feelings or made him feel horrible.
It's amazing you know. You don't think someone has affected you, until they're gone. It's weird because I've thought of him at odd times during the years, and at one point said to myself "it's like he's fallen off the face of the earth." I actually thought that. And a couple of months ago, I thought I saw him on a train. But thinking of those photos I saw, that wasn't him on the train. Definitely not.
It may sound overly self-indulgent, and I don't mean it to sound that way, but I just hope that none of my actions affected him and made his life different. I may not have had that kind of impact on his life, just from one moment in time: and hey, I really hope I didn't. I just pray and hope that he had lots of love and happiness surrounding him at all times. And that he wasn't alone. Even though ultimately, we all die alone.
It's breaking me up inside.
I've already kind of said my goodbye, but it still feels weird, unfinished. I wish I'd known. I don't know what I could have done, what I would have done, but I almost feel like asking Red if she wants to visit their gravesites, even though I have no idea where they are. She's as blown away by all this as I am, and she is also freaking out about the symmetry of it all.
I've had a cousin murdered, another cousin commit suicide, an aunty die suddenly of cancer; and as devastating as all those things were, I'm really shook by this. They were both so young, younger than myself. For Wavy, especially, I know it's cliche to say but he didn't deserve it. He was really a greay guy. As someone on his memory page said, he hadn't even had a chance to be a husband, a father. That is so unfair.
Because he played such a monumental role in my life, as short as the time was, that's why I think I'm so blown away by it all. He died such a short time ago, and his family and friends are still writing things on his page and posting photos. It was devastating to read, but I guess good knowing he was so loved, is so loved.
I hadn't seen him for such a long time. Never would I imagine this would happen, and that he would mark such strong emotions in me after his death. I'm still in shock. I don't know what to think. I pray and hope he is safe, well and in peace where he is right now.
When it comes to death, I have no answers. I try to live my life on a positive scale every day, and look at the good, and the secret messages in everything, even the bad. I struggle when it comes to death though. As I wrote to Red "The only thing we can do is take this experience and use it to keep pursuing our dreams, keep moving forward. We can only try."
We are the lucky ones. We are still breathing, still living. Every day is a blessing. Be happy (although I'm almost crying). Live life to the fullest. Do what your heart says. Because for some, life is too short, and for others, it is too painful. So enjoy the moments you have, and always be grateful that at the very least you have your breath.
R.I.P Seven.
R.I.P Wavy. I will always remember you.
Monday, January 23, 2012
13
Often the number 13 evokes a sense of intense fear and danger by those who come across it in their everyday lives. The number brings forth images of black cats, women pinned to stakes, ladders, breaking mirrors and just a general feel of ominous doom. Whether you come across it in calculating finances, planning a party, or choosing a house or car, if something is suggestive towards this lowly-regarded number being the sum of whatever it is you're doing, chances are that at first sight of it you'll be running for the hills, far far away, along with the rest of herd.
I, usually, am part of this herd.
If we're looking at houses, I won't want one that has 13 in the address. With cars, I add up the numbers on the reg: if the total comes to 13, again, I consider it a bad sign. (Don't get me started on cars with three of the same number, the number that comes after 5 but before 7 - shudder).
I don't know why I tend to diverge from this number. I think over time I've just gone along with the flow and joined in with the rest of the hype about the number: I've actually heard that Italians consider it a lucky number. Growing up, Red had a bit of a fear about it, and she kept seeing signs of it everywhere: dates, the time, even the number of letters in her first and last name added up to 13. (Teenage girls have a lot of time on their hands).
Another friend I grew up with, got her first period on Friday the 13th. Faaaarrrrrrr. She was secretly rapt, I know, being a bit of a late bloomer and all, but I was just like "What? Friday the 13th? Of all days?!"
I've ended up having my birthday on the 13th a couple of times, just the way the dates worked out that year, and I can't say anything really horrible happened. But if given the option, I would always go for the other option, rather than outright choose something with 13 associated with it.
(I think the stories of my parents upbringing got me really superstitious and stuff too.)
However, I'm starting to see things differently. Today is a 13 number for me, and a great number at that.
Including today, I only have 13 more working days until I go on leave next month.
:-D! :-D! :-D!
YIPPEE for me! I am so excited. When I start preparing my to-do list of holiday stuff, I think I might spontaneously explode with the amount of items I will be potentially ticking off.
And because Hubbie isn't able to take holidays with me, as he has only recently started a new job, I will be on my own, getting lots of little bullshit jobs done. I'll be organising photos, cleaning windows, sorting through recipes and indexing them, throwing out old bills, EVERYTHING!
You think I'm crazy now don't you? You think I'm going to devote my time off to just cleaning the house? No siree!
I'm gonna be catching up with my parents, my sister, my cousins, my extended family, my friends, the works! On Hubbie's days off, we're going to go out and not come home until it's dark! I'm going to be watching my fave tv shows and movies 'til REALLY late at night, because I won't have work the next day! I'll be shopping, trying on dresses with Red for her wedding, going to parks, to the beach, eating out and most important drinking coffee and eating cake and ice cream!
!!!!!
I am going to do it all, whenever, however and wherever I like! :-D
Oh, and I almost forget. I'll be finishing off my book then too, you know that story I keep mentioning. Yeah......
:-D
Which brings me to another 13. I finished chapter 12 last night.
:-D :-D :-D
I, usually, am part of this herd.
If we're looking at houses, I won't want one that has 13 in the address. With cars, I add up the numbers on the reg: if the total comes to 13, again, I consider it a bad sign. (Don't get me started on cars with three of the same number, the number that comes after 5 but before 7 - shudder).
I don't know why I tend to diverge from this number. I think over time I've just gone along with the flow and joined in with the rest of the hype about the number: I've actually heard that Italians consider it a lucky number. Growing up, Red had a bit of a fear about it, and she kept seeing signs of it everywhere: dates, the time, even the number of letters in her first and last name added up to 13. (Teenage girls have a lot of time on their hands).
Another friend I grew up with, got her first period on Friday the 13th. Faaaarrrrrrr. She was secretly rapt, I know, being a bit of a late bloomer and all, but I was just like "What? Friday the 13th? Of all days?!"
I've ended up having my birthday on the 13th a couple of times, just the way the dates worked out that year, and I can't say anything really horrible happened. But if given the option, I would always go for the other option, rather than outright choose something with 13 associated with it.
(I think the stories of my parents upbringing got me really superstitious and stuff too.)
However, I'm starting to see things differently. Today is a 13 number for me, and a great number at that.
Including today, I only have 13 more working days until I go on leave next month.
:-D! :-D! :-D!
YIPPEE for me! I am so excited. When I start preparing my to-do list of holiday stuff, I think I might spontaneously explode with the amount of items I will be potentially ticking off.
And because Hubbie isn't able to take holidays with me, as he has only recently started a new job, I will be on my own, getting lots of little bullshit jobs done. I'll be organising photos, cleaning windows, sorting through recipes and indexing them, throwing out old bills, EVERYTHING!
You think I'm crazy now don't you? You think I'm going to devote my time off to just cleaning the house? No siree!
I'm gonna be catching up with my parents, my sister, my cousins, my extended family, my friends, the works! On Hubbie's days off, we're going to go out and not come home until it's dark! I'm going to be watching my fave tv shows and movies 'til REALLY late at night, because I won't have work the next day! I'll be shopping, trying on dresses with Red for her wedding, going to parks, to the beach, eating out and most important drinking coffee and eating cake and ice cream!
!!!!!
I am going to do it all, whenever, however and wherever I like! :-D
Oh, and I almost forget. I'll be finishing off my book then too, you know that story I keep mentioning. Yeah......
:-D
Which brings me to another 13. I finished chapter 12 last night.
:-D :-D :-D
Friday, January 20, 2012
WOW.
So yesterday I was all pathetic and shit, but today I've turned over a new leaf. It does not fail my notice that although I try to live my life in the highest regard and in line with the law of attraction, that I still have monumental DOWN days. I think the fact that I do try so hard to better my life, that it indeed causes these seriously depressing moments. When I'm high, I'm flying, and when I'm down, well.... I won't finish that.
Also, the fact that I get up so early during the week, leaves me feeling drained: even though I feel it physically, the emotinal side takes it toll. Does it ever. By the end of the week I can be crabby, over-sensitive, and finding fault in the smallest of things. Like the last couple of days.
When a few things don't go to plan, or when a few things get to me, they combine into a rolling ball of moss, accelerating down the steep hill of my brain, until finally, when it hits the bottom with a large bang, I end up broken. Completely broken, shattered, and in a deep ditch of dirt.
But, aided today by my true and trusted friend 'proper coffee' I am definitely looking up.
:)
Just send Hubbie this message: "Hi, I'm Miss S (group says 'Hi Miss S') and I have a coffee addiction."
I'm a bit whacked out today, being a Friday and all. As you can probably tell.
So I'm here to talk positive, and to put a bit of perspective on something I mentioned yesterday.
So yes. I didn't ask for a pay rise. I didn't prepare myself, the night before it I had other heavy things on my mind, and it led to me feeling completely unprepared for the work review I had. I'm not usually like that, I'm super-organised, and like Hubbie coached to me last night, I have to learn from the experience.
Yes I will learn. I guess it's just hard because I'm not even sure what was the right thing to do: to ask or not to ask? That IS the question. However I have to believe that I did the right thing, and if not, that I will get another opportunity at monetary rewards, if not through this work, then through another (hint, hint, clears throat loudly 'ahem, book *cough* my story *cough*).
:)
And one more thing. What I was supposed to talk about yesterday.
I get cranky at times, when I notice people staring at me. It just really annoys me. Sure, look, glance around. But don't continue to ogle me, or to totally stare me down into a hole as I walk on by. I don't care what the reasons are, I find it rude and slightly intimidating to know someone is totally giving me the once over.
Though a couple of mornings ago, walking to work 6:30 in the morning, I saw two tradies approaching me from the other side. I knew how I was dressed, and knew that it may get some notice. I wasn't dressed inappropriately or anything, but you know when the clothes you wear portray a certain look? Anyway, I kepy my eyes straight ahead as I walked on by, being careful not to make any eye contact, because hey, you can't encourage them in anyway. Who knows what might happen then.
Even though my eyes were forward, I could see them looking at me as they walked past. And I heard from one of them, lowly, "Wow."
Wow. I thought about it some more as I kept walking, wondering whether I was upset at being ogled at again. But you know what? I took it for what it was, as a freaking damn fantastic compliment. WOW. I think that's one of the best compliments ever. One word, so simple. Wow.
As I said to Hubbie, when I'm pregnant one day, I'm sure I won't have guys whistling, tooting their car horns or making remarks about me when I walk by, so I'll take all the Wow's I can right now.
I'm going to take it in, and appreciate it as much as possible.
What a wonderful, brilliant, spectacular, mood-lifting, heart-warming post to get me into the weekend :-D
WOW!
Also, the fact that I get up so early during the week, leaves me feeling drained: even though I feel it physically, the emotinal side takes it toll. Does it ever. By the end of the week I can be crabby, over-sensitive, and finding fault in the smallest of things. Like the last couple of days.
When a few things don't go to plan, or when a few things get to me, they combine into a rolling ball of moss, accelerating down the steep hill of my brain, until finally, when it hits the bottom with a large bang, I end up broken. Completely broken, shattered, and in a deep ditch of dirt.
But, aided today by my true and trusted friend 'proper coffee' I am definitely looking up.
:)
Just send Hubbie this message: "Hi, I'm Miss S (group says 'Hi Miss S') and I have a coffee addiction."
I'm a bit whacked out today, being a Friday and all. As you can probably tell.
So I'm here to talk positive, and to put a bit of perspective on something I mentioned yesterday.
So yes. I didn't ask for a pay rise. I didn't prepare myself, the night before it I had other heavy things on my mind, and it led to me feeling completely unprepared for the work review I had. I'm not usually like that, I'm super-organised, and like Hubbie coached to me last night, I have to learn from the experience.
Yes I will learn. I guess it's just hard because I'm not even sure what was the right thing to do: to ask or not to ask? That IS the question. However I have to believe that I did the right thing, and if not, that I will get another opportunity at monetary rewards, if not through this work, then through another (hint, hint, clears throat loudly 'ahem, book *cough* my story *cough*).
:)
And one more thing. What I was supposed to talk about yesterday.
I get cranky at times, when I notice people staring at me. It just really annoys me. Sure, look, glance around. But don't continue to ogle me, or to totally stare me down into a hole as I walk on by. I don't care what the reasons are, I find it rude and slightly intimidating to know someone is totally giving me the once over.
Though a couple of mornings ago, walking to work 6:30 in the morning, I saw two tradies approaching me from the other side. I knew how I was dressed, and knew that it may get some notice. I wasn't dressed inappropriately or anything, but you know when the clothes you wear portray a certain look? Anyway, I kepy my eyes straight ahead as I walked on by, being careful not to make any eye contact, because hey, you can't encourage them in anyway. Who knows what might happen then.
Even though my eyes were forward, I could see them looking at me as they walked past. And I heard from one of them, lowly, "Wow."
Wow. I thought about it some more as I kept walking, wondering whether I was upset at being ogled at again. But you know what? I took it for what it was, as a freaking damn fantastic compliment. WOW. I think that's one of the best compliments ever. One word, so simple. Wow.
As I said to Hubbie, when I'm pregnant one day, I'm sure I won't have guys whistling, tooting their car horns or making remarks about me when I walk by, so I'll take all the Wow's I can right now.
I'm going to take it in, and appreciate it as much as possible.
What a wonderful, brilliant, spectacular, mood-lifting, heart-warming post to get me into the weekend :-D
WOW!
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Feeling Shitty Now....
Ok, so my plan was to write about something that lifted my mood the other day, instead, I'm still feeling shitty, so I can't fake it and go "Oooh! look at me! la di da I'm so happy!"
:):):):)
No, I can't do that. Have you ever not wanted to do something because the thought of doing it made you feel so uncomfortable and awkward, so you didn't do it, but then after the fact, you wished you had done it, because it would have been a learning experience, a challenge, an opportunity at greater things?
Yeah well I feel like a freaking coward right now. I had an opportunity to ask for a pay rise, and I chickened out.
(Hides head between legs and shuffles away....)
I feel like crying.
:(
:):):):)
No, I can't do that. Have you ever not wanted to do something because the thought of doing it made you feel so uncomfortable and awkward, so you didn't do it, but then after the fact, you wished you had done it, because it would have been a learning experience, a challenge, an opportunity at greater things?
Yeah well I feel like a freaking coward right now. I had an opportunity to ask for a pay rise, and I chickened out.
(Hides head between legs and shuffles away....)
I feel like crying.
:(
Writing Realisations
I've come across a couple of insights into the way Miss S operates and what drives her (yes I am fully aware of having just switched from 1st person P.O.V to a third person P.O.V).
I was feeling a bit sad and sorry for myself on Sunday afternoon, once again thinking of how quickly the weekend had passed, and how I had to get myself ready for work the next day: lunches, bags, crap and stuff.
A glimmer of happiness went through me when I thought of the early time Hubbie would be going to bed; because when he goes to bed early, me and my laptop join him.
I spend most of my writing time typing furiously on my laptop as Hubbie sleeps beside me. I don't like to write when he is awake and we can talk about something or do something. Even when we're just sitting on the couch, I have to sit on the couch with him, instead of do anything else. Aww. Also, I think I wouldn't be able to concentrate either, even if I tried. I'm much better thinking and planning in quiet and peace, with no distractions. That thought worries me, as I know the day will come where I have distractions abound.
Also, in complete contradiction to what I just said, when I look at my computer screen, and start reading the last few pages I wrote, I completely switch off and just tune into another world. That's what I noticed last night in bed, having started the writing process in complete sadness and frustration. I knew I had to write, I have a deadline I'm trying to stick to so I don't slack off, and I said to myself "right, there are times that you're going to write happy, some sad. You gotta write through it all."
And amazingly I did. It was only after I finished for the night that I realised how deep in my other world I had been. I don't know if that's what happens to all writers as they're creating their own unique worlds, or if it's a sign of something else (like my story is good, fingers crossed!)
So that I liked:)
AND, I find myself really looking forward to and enjoying writing of late. It may be a combination of things: being towards the end of the book; seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the book's completion; writing about things that I've been leading up to for a year! I feel good about it, and not that I don't usually like to write, but a lot of the past year I've felt confused about the characters, storyline and my ability to write well. I'm feeling better, for everything, and I like it.
So I'm liking a lot, but my heart is still heavy. Maybe I need one more post to lift my spirits....
I was feeling a bit sad and sorry for myself on Sunday afternoon, once again thinking of how quickly the weekend had passed, and how I had to get myself ready for work the next day: lunches, bags, crap and stuff.
A glimmer of happiness went through me when I thought of the early time Hubbie would be going to bed; because when he goes to bed early, me and my laptop join him.
I spend most of my writing time typing furiously on my laptop as Hubbie sleeps beside me. I don't like to write when he is awake and we can talk about something or do something. Even when we're just sitting on the couch, I have to sit on the couch with him, instead of do anything else. Aww. Also, I think I wouldn't be able to concentrate either, even if I tried. I'm much better thinking and planning in quiet and peace, with no distractions. That thought worries me, as I know the day will come where I have distractions abound.
Also, in complete contradiction to what I just said, when I look at my computer screen, and start reading the last few pages I wrote, I completely switch off and just tune into another world. That's what I noticed last night in bed, having started the writing process in complete sadness and frustration. I knew I had to write, I have a deadline I'm trying to stick to so I don't slack off, and I said to myself "right, there are times that you're going to write happy, some sad. You gotta write through it all."
And amazingly I did. It was only after I finished for the night that I realised how deep in my other world I had been. I don't know if that's what happens to all writers as they're creating their own unique worlds, or if it's a sign of something else (like my story is good, fingers crossed!)
So that I liked:)
AND, I find myself really looking forward to and enjoying writing of late. It may be a combination of things: being towards the end of the book; seeing the light at the end of the tunnel for the book's completion; writing about things that I've been leading up to for a year! I feel good about it, and not that I don't usually like to write, but a lot of the past year I've felt confused about the characters, storyline and my ability to write well. I'm feeling better, for everything, and I like it.
So I'm liking a lot, but my heart is still heavy. Maybe I need one more post to lift my spirits....
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