Fire Pit - Home made

Fire Pit - Home made
A day and night on cider

Friday, 12 October 2012

Not that Friday though. Not that time. Fuck you!

It has again been far too long… I will again try to update this on a regular basis… but alas who are we kidding.

Today I would to write a letter… A letter to the foul truck drivers that think it is ok to honk and blow kisses… This is an ode to you arseholes.

Dear Trucky,

The day had started well for me.  Thank you for asking… Oh no, that is right you couldn't as we do not know each other and I would be shocked to learn you even had those basic manners anyways.  As I walk the 30 mins to work, I like to have what I call my time.  In this space I listen to a random selection of music that does not match and create lists of what I am going to do that day.  I have conversation in my head that will never happen and think about the guy I am in love with but does not love me and work out “how to” get over him.  Whilst this is all going on I sometimes relive the terrible and somewhat mortifying things I have done and other times I think of how far I have come. 

You may find this shocking to learn but I am not boobs, I am a person.  I am not sure if you have a mother, wife, daughter, niece or some effigy of the female kind… But I suggest next time you decide to honk or blow a kiss, think of them... then remember I am a person.  You would not do this if you were merely walking by or if you were at the other table at a cafĂ©.  You hide in your truck and zoom on by leaving me to feel very uncomfortable and sometimes not all that safe.  I do not consider myself a strong feminist, I love a dirty joke, can hang with the boys and do not wish to harp on about this.  So what occurred on Friday was a mere reaction to your arsehole action.

As previously stated this time in the morning is an active time for my brain… So with so much going on at that time I can sometimes react without much pre-thought.  Again I was listing things to be done in my day; you again drove past and blew a kiss… I could not even tell you what went through my head and I have thought about it… I do not even care what did.  I grabbed the first thing in my handbag and hiffed it at you.  That is right… it was I.  I, who usually just gasps and then carries on walking in fury, making lists about what I would like to say to your manager, or you!  Not that Friday though.  Not that time.  Fuck you!  That yogurt served a greater purpose that day. 

Yes I was hungry at lunch… but what got me through… Pure, unadulterated satisfaction.  I had taken action.

This really has no point - aside from the fact that FUCK OFF DICK HEAD.  You cannot hear what I yell but from now on I have moved past the fear and will forever more throw things at you!  I do not even care what they are.  


No longer a tad scared a lot mad but now takes action with no fear.

Saturday, 14 April 2012

Give up - She has already WON!

As my friend Snickers so aptly put it tonight... Give up...She has the dog, the boyfriend and the house.  Yes the competition does seem over...

Monday, 9 April 2012

So today I have completely and utterly committed to keeping this up to date... what very little I know about myself... It just isn’t likely to happen.  However fuck it, until I give up, I’ll keep on trucking. 

I also want to add a space or column or something about my friend... It’s to be called Snickerisms.. the shit she says.... need to learn how to do this.... also need to work out about sticking to a main focus.  Again... probably not going to happen.

I use to think my loathing of all things in general came from the continual spiral of being drunk, sobering up and remembering why I need to have another drink.  People today like to coin this sub-group in society a functioning alcoholic.  This statement is ridiculous and I question if they are doing it right.  Alcoholism is a fine art of waking up and pouring yourself a tumbler of vodka and then washing it down with red wine.  If you are the definition of a functioning alcoholic you are just doing it wrong.  Alcohism takes time.  Consisting of many mornings, waking a washed with shame and guilt.  It is all these moments accumulated that the choice to drink continually to dimishes all memory and therefore all responsibility... that you truly become an alcoholic. 

So where in here can you be functioning?  WHERE… Where in this derelict styled lifestyle can you be functioning?  A true alcoholic has vodka with their Cornies and brandy in their morning tea…

I have no idea what my point is now… Nope nothing…

I have reread this and still have no idea if it was about continually updating the post, Snickerisms, keeping a focus or alcoholism…

Got nothing!

Reread it again... I am not even drunk and it has coherance...

Saturday, 31 March 2012

Dipping my toe back into dating... What the fuck is wrong with people?

Well, I finally thought maybe, just maybe I was ready to join the world of dating.  Apart from the amount of amazing fodder to talk/write about, it has left me in a deep confusion.

When did "Wanna root?" become a pick up line?  Seriously... Please help me here.  So people actually say… Well now that you  mention it... Sure!  This has brought me to way more questions than I ever thought a two worded question ever possible could.

It takes some messed up shit to shut me up... But wow! 

Also if you are married... It is not OK to ask someone else other than your wife to dinner... You are making me a bad person.  You obviously are already a complete PRICK!  Do not make me any shitter than I already am.  Also in my humble opinion, it is NOT dating... It is cheating.. So NO THANK YOU.

That is all for today... My NY resolution was to update this regularly... I personally think April is a great time to start this.

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

Enjoy the Ride - The Worry Just Isnt Worth it

I was going to write about my experience with the brief fling I had with going home early (about 1am) as I had work (the never ending ruination of my life (drinking)) the next morning.  However on my way to the taxi stand an inebriated 18 year old (found this out later) was falling out of the Big K with a guy either side of her.  I didn’t have to check she was alright; I could have run, jumped in a taxi, grabbed a pie and never thought of it again.  Then it occurred to me of how I would feel, with the combination of an awful hangover plus seeing her photo in Stuff saying MISSING last seen at the Big K and how this would haunt me forever.  So I asked the fatal question of “Are you ok”…. I seem to be telling the story.. I will bullet point from here in

Ex Boyfriend
More crying
Water for her
I drink the water
Mum won’t come to pick her up
Hysterical and screamy
Sing “You are my Sunshine” to calm her (why that song no idea, glad it works)
Ex turns up
Calm before the storm
HYSTERIA times infinity
Call ambulance
First ride in an ambulance
I WAS SUPER EXCITED and scared for her
People at hospital ask me all sorts of personal questions about her that I don’t know
I am drunk and think it’s funny to answer with white female, small frame – they are humourless at 2.30am in the morning so…
I tell them I know nothing as im not her friend and meet her about an hour ago, although she has recently broken up with her BF
Half of the hospital staff look at me like I am a complete freak and the other half pat me on the back to say its great people like me are still around
I still want a pie
Her parents come

Her Dad drops me home – kinda weird

Wow that seems like a blog all on its lonesome.  Think ill leave it there.

This is me not sweating the small stuff as the title suggested but I wanted to talk about something completely different.

From a raging alcoholic to the general populace the worry just isn’t worth it.

Sunday, 19 June 2011

Face Planting - Not as funny when the cake is harder than your head: Featuring first post nerves.

The stage was set for an amazingly authentic French surprise 60th birthday.  Insert me, a plethora of wine that was unmonitored, a change in seating and the introduction for a lovely group of people to Face Planting. 

I have never been all that interested in growing up and find things like face planting hilarious.  I also thought others would share this with me.  People don’t.  I more feel they thought i was a mildly disturbed drunk.  But alas i transgress.....

Face Planting is the technique of holding your breath and planting your face into whatever is in front of you.  (Disclaimer - not from the Oxford Dictionary)

So sitting at the table between the host and hostess (prime seating change up - no longer by the door where the least people can hear me therefore the less damage i can do) i casually say in my fog horn voice

me: you totally should face plant that.

birthday girl: hahahahaha... huh?  What is that?

table: hmmmmmm and the slightly awkward vibe of this sounds like it could end badly.

me: you like totally put ya face in it.  It’s great.

birthday girl: noooooo

me: totally is - ive done it before.

table: 5 4 3 2 1

still not sure who initiated that.

birthday girl: BANG

me: that was pathetic.  your face isnt covered and you left a shit indent.

table: *laugh*

me: C'mon, ill show you how it is done

table: 5 4 3 2 1

me: BANG!

birthday girl: BANG!

table: *flash* all the cameras are still going

me: what the... the cake is harder than my head. 

birthday girl: hahaha... face planting.  its great.

me: oh i know.  way better when its sponge.

table: thinking - i cant believe this actually happened.

Lessons to be learnt

1)Wine should be monitored when I am at your place for dinner.  Themed or not
2)Face planting is way less painful if the cake is sponge and cream NOT 3kg dark chocolate mud cake lacking any sponge resemblance.
3) If inviting me to a dinner party make sure I do not move from the seat allocated to me by the door.  There is a reason I am separated from the other guests.

Also writing a blog is not as easy nor am I as funny as I thought.  However it has now been done and I usually award myself with a wine, but I’m pretty sure my liver would actually fuck off and write me a Dear John letter advising what a shit relationship we have had and the abuse is too much, so instead I will make friends with my arse and have a cookie.

From a raging alcoholic to the general populace, face planting is hilarious when the cake is NOT harder than your head.