Thanks for the memories

Even though I haven’t written anything for ages, my stats are right up, so I guess somebody out there is checking in regularly. Whoever you are, I thank you.

It seems that November is the month for blog revival, so… why fight it.

We had drinks with the Minister and his staff today after work, and I am exhausted. I hate small talk at the best of times, but I was feeling tired, and my back was hurting, and my heart has been beating irregularly for a few days… so it was an extra effort, and the effort has drained me.

Non-whinging news includes interesting work, lovely days off, lovely new home, and sculpture by the sea in a few days! Hurrah!

C.R.E.A.M.

Once again I find myself at another cross roads in life. I’ve decided to take the path paved with gold.

Hella shite

Life has been quite unrelenting lately. Why can’t the universe turn it down a notch every now and then?

We finally moved, after being screwed over by our own lawyers.

We’d been at our place for less than week, and got broken into. I was so mad that the bleeding heart inside me became cold as steel, and wanted to wring the necks of the little sh*ts that made Josh cry.

OK, OK, I cried too.

Work has been one big nightmare that won’t end.

I am getting really fat and can’t fit into any of my nice clothes.

Wah wah wah.

Moving on… again

I just spent an hour packing all my old journals, photos, diaries, notes, letters, the modern letters (emails)…

It took an hour because I had to stop to be reminded…

I was reminded of things that I have kept cold and hard inside for most of my life…

When I think of everything I have lived through… of how angry I was for so long…

When I think of WHO I USED TO BE… I want to cry for that girl… I want to give her a long hug…

I want to tell her one day she will feel safe again…

Freaking stairs

I’ve been having my stairs dreams again.

In a recent incarnation of this dream, Tim was with me and we were frantically looking for Josh.

I guess I miss him more than I realise…

Jesus loves you

If I’m lucky, my daily walk through the tunnel on the way to work includes a greeting from a strange man.

He walks against the pedestrian traffic, he beams at everyone and says things like ‘Good morning everybody!’, ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day?’ and ‘Don’t forget Jesus loves you!’.

Normally everyone is in some kind of a hurry - heads down, head phones in, hard face on - but when he comes your way, you can’t help cracking a smile. In this cold, cynical world, he is the human equivalent of a nice warm blanket.

Except that this morning, he was lacking some lustre.

Once upon a time I would have found that incredibly depressing, but now I think - it’s comforting to know that even deliriously happy deranged people can have bad days.

Charlie Ah Yum

On the weekend Tim and I went to Historic Berrima and visited the Court House Museum. We were carefully scrutinising the court records on display (not really) when a record for one ‘Charlie Ah Yum’ caught my eye.

This Charlie was imprisoned in 1892 for murder.

I know the normal response is probably not racial pride, but that’s the bizarre feeling I had. In a totally absurd way I was proud that there was a record of a Chinese man who committed a horrible crime over 100 years ago, because it was proof positive that Chinese people have been around and active in Australian society for many years now. Actually, I was quite impressed that they could cope with the three pronged name back then, even if he had to suffer the indignity of being called Charlie.

This is all because I still BURN when I think of all that ill-feeling generated in the 90’s by Ms Hansen et al, even though I know it’s totally passe to be racist against Asian people (Arabs are so hot right now).

I suppose I should be happy. Being branded a probable gang-member/drug dealer based on your looks if far better than being branded a probable terrorist, isn’t it?

Poo cleaning

A colleague of mine said that our team was like a sewerage treatment plant. What’s worrying is that I knew exactly what he meant.

At least I get paid well for the privilege, and I get to clean poo with lovely people!

Where is my mind?

I saw the Pixies at Luna Park the other week, and it was a revelation!

I knew their music was good and they were for ‘real’ music fans, but I had no idea how influential they were, and how much ahead of their time they were.

I could pick a band that was trying to copy their sound for nearly every song!

And they were so humble - at the end of the gig they did not do the normal rock star thing of screaming because they love themselves so much, they did little school assembly bows and were truly grateful that we were enjoying their music.

PS: I have never seen so many pregnant women at a gig in my life!

Just shut up and have a baby!

I just turned 30. Like I needed another reason to be introspective.

But I guess it is my privilege to gaze luxuriously at my navel, whilst sipping champagne and pondering the misery of others.

Actually, I was quite spoiled this year

Yeah, I have it pretty good.

So I should just pop one out, hey?