If you want to strike me down in anger, here I am

Sometimes, I know I'm heading into self-destruct mode and I just don't care. Remembering the past in detail tends to lead me there and yet I don't stop. Sometimes though, it's just okay to curl up in bed, have a drink (or five) and not fight it.

I just can't let that happen too often. Especially when I have access to teh internetz and proceed to log into chat rooms. And facebook people. And gmail chat. Oh my.

Now the question is, do I be more open about it? Not shout it from the rooftops, but not ignore it? Knowing that knowing that information couldn't be taken back?

Blahdeebleeblah.

Work tomorrow is going to be odd. I managed to triple book myself for three very different appointments. I am supposed to be journal writing with Toe and Chezza, but that's all the way on the other side of town and I need to drop Baby K off at school. Plus it's raining. I hate the rain. Then I have to run over to The Pantry to attend the meeting + score the psychometrics + consent a client, then run back over to OFland to pick up Baby K from dance lessons. When did my life get busy?

Moments in the soul

I turned 25 last week; it was kind of a let down, nothing brilliant happened, but nothing terrible either. It kind of just was. In saying that, I was talking with a dear friend last night, lamenting the march of time, when it dawned on me just how far I've come. I may not have the long term boyfriend and I may still be living with family, but I've done a lot in that time.

At 20, I was a mess. In March of that year, something terrible happened to me, and I survived. It wasn't pretty, but I did it. I still find it difficult to say and I know that there are maybe two (?three) people in my life that actually know what happened, and one who I am sure suspects (since she was there that night), but I can't bring myself to tell other people - who wants to give other people that ugliness? I know it would help to explain things I do and feel to people, but I can't hurt them and change the way they see me. I used to want something tragic in my life, so I could be that movie/tv heroine who is cared for and protected, but now I have it, I can't let people know.

At 21, I got asked to leave my job and my flat. So I left London. Even as that man chased me down the street and my face was streaming with tears, I knew that someday in the future, this moment would be comical. And it is! I got chased down a London street (with my 90L backpack on my back, my daypack on my front and towing a 20kg suitcase) by a man who thought that I stole his remotes!!! WTF? How does that happen? I left England, and went back home and healed from the events of the previous two years.

At 22, I graduated my bachelors (delayed satisfaction!) and completed my first post grad....which led me to my masters. It very nearly led me back down the path of my eating disorder, but I pulled that back in. I got my awesome job at The Zoo, which I am still at now. I have been able to grow at this job, to the point that I am now the sole research person across The Zoo, The Dungeon, The Pantry and the other Oh Yeah, That Service. This scares me on various points, but it's okay, you know?

At 23, I started writing my masters thesis. There were many tears, caused in large part by my batshit crazy supervisor. I still can't believe that she hauled me in front of the Head of Department! Bad luck for her that I was writing grant applications at the time, for I turned up at that meeting with excellent documentation of the timeline and progress status reports. The HoD was ineffectual in large part, and I definately felt that I was in the wrong spot (power-wise) as a student, he was going to back her all the way. Thankfully, I still had one card up my sleeve: proof that she marked my lit review twice (by mistake!) and in one copy said that I should do this and that, and in the other said that it was fine. They were exactly the same! Thankfully a friend was able to point me to another superviosr who loved my work and thought that my plan was brillant and on track. I had lunch with him the other day, and he still managed to inspire me to write it up for publication.

At 24, I sat in an internet cafe in LA (after my conference in Mexico was canceled) and found that I had not only passed my masters thesis - I had gotten second class, first division honours. Seriously. I totally wigged out but I didn't care. I had passed! Me! It was an awesome ending to a (mostly) awesome trip. After being terrified of traveling around Europe on my own, and settling to travel with people who didn't really care for me, I managed to travel around the States and Canada alone! I handled crises of various sorts, I made an executive decision to travel to Canada to see my darling friend (with no idea if my travel insurance would cover it) and did it all on my lonesome. I didn't care if other people thought that it was weird that I was traveling/sightseeing alone, because that meant that I got to see and do things that I wanted. Yes, it would have been nice and cheaper to have someone with me, but I didn't and it wasn't the end of the world. I also sat, and failed, the med school entrance exam - and lived. I did a two triathalons, I did a tough guy. I tried things outside my comfort zone because I realised that I would be ok.

Now, at 25, I have sat (and failed again!) the med school exam, and I'm ok with my applications. Someone has to have the bottom score and it might as well be me. I most likely won't get in, and that's okay. I have a back up plan that involves earning more monies and trying again. I may not have it all, but at least I've done things. I don't want to repeat the last five years, I want to see the next five years.

It might be nothing

Sooooooooooooooo, my big research project? The one client that I have consented and given the device? Yeah. In hospital on nasogastric feeding. It's kind of the opposite of what the programme is supposed to do.

Early failure! Only way is up!

Ha. It's not really a failure since I did want to see how the device would function in a hospital environment, but couldn't it have not been the first participant with the device?

Wherein I got over myself

I cannot change the past, what is done is done. I need to move on with this although I am applying to both Underwear Universities on the whim. Mainly because I can afford to loose the application fee and not applying will definitely mean that I won't get in.

So Plan Alpha is that I will get an interview at East Underwear and will get a place and live happily ever after.

Plan Beta is to move to the parentals in November and get a decent paying job which will set me up for the next four years, because I will re sit.

The next gamsat is in September, so I will sit that one. However, if a miracle happens and I get an interview then I will cancel that and put the flight + fee towards sitting the interview. If it doesn't, then I will go with what I'm doing.

It feels good to have a plan and to be accepting of what I'm doing and where I'm at. It's okay, you know?

And we will see my shadow

I didn't make it. I fucken failed on science again but this time by only one point.

Jeebus.

Try to be me

If I can explain my past mistakes away by explaining that I was young and dumb, which led me into these situations - does that mean that I am now mature and smart?

I'm not sure I can handle that.

Results tomorrow (so says the magic eight ball, so say I). One more night of pretending that I did extraordinarily well.

Sef u trenutku. Vjerujem u svemiru.

My dear friend SarahLou suggested that the reason that I have 33% body fat (as measure by an old man with hand tremors), is because I have a large rack. I like this.

Also, I have manflu. It is terrible, with horrid pressure in one of my sinuses and a terrible toothache all along one side of my jaw. Ugh.

Twidling my thumbs waiting for results release. Funny people on the forum are really stressing out about results release. One of them is going on and on about how it's just not fair that certain places have been released to people in the accelerated program, and how it's not fair that Grizzly University doesn't include GPA in their calculation because it just should. But only undergrad GPA. Le sigh. You can really tell that some people haven't been out in the world very much.

Winds of a broken heart

It's hard to realise that you are still caught with those old emotions. Facebook informed me that there was someone new who we had three friends in common, and the mere sight of her name sent burning hot streams of anger through me. I thought I was over hating her; I thought that she was nothing to me. I saw her name and I instantly reverted back to being that hurt 19 year old. I once told a friend of mine that if I saw her again, I wouldn't hesitate to punch her in the face.

I've done so much since she and her stupid ass boyfriend tried to destroy me, and yet I am not past it.

I guess it doesn't help that I joined a gym today and got told that I have 33% Body fat. Delightful.

Thank god I'm going to a party with many hot engineering boys tonight. I'm going to need it.

I didn't even say that

I've developed what can only be described as an annoying habit.....when someone fucks me off on the road, I pick up my phone/iTouch/camera and 'take' a picture of them. It seems to be working though. Damn rude other people.

Discovered today that there is now another university which I will be able to apply to (Grizzly University) as they have changed their GPA requirements. Hmm. The score for them is about halfway between Sandstone (i.e. stupidly high) and Underwear Universities, but is near my parents place, so freeish place to live!

Well, in a week I'll know if it was worth considering.

Play me a melody

It was a year ago that I was sat in an internet cafe in LA and discovered that I had not only passed, but had also gotten Second Class First Division Honours. Me? Hons? Suffice to say, I was stunned and I think that I scared more than one person in that cafe. It was a really good day too - I ended up going to Universal Studios to celebrate. I should get around to publishing that.

12 days until I find out the results. I wish I could stop dreaming about it - my dreams have a far too logical sequence. The latest one had me receiving an email from Supermarket Uni saying that my GPA was far too low (4.6) despite a good Gamsat, and I replied to say that it was ok, I was working on my time machine to go back and fix my fails. Ok, so that isn't so logical, but maybe dream me was making a funny?

All devices are loaded and ready to go. Documentation was sent to the printers this afternoon, and there is a meeting at the Pantry tomorrow afternoon to discuss playlists. Haven't heard from IS though, but that stress is waning because the lack of parental psychometrics is so much more serious.

Express the opinion

I smell like chocolate! In an effort to take better care of myself, I'm trying to use moisturiser after I shower - Vaseline Cocoa Butter. It's a little too yummy smelling, hopefully some of the sweetness with rub off on my personality.

*crickets*

Right. Well. Cocoa Butter!

Am still waiting on results, 13 days to go. What the hell am I going to do if I don't get a good score? What will I do next year? Will someone think of the children!!!

*crickets*

I so desperately want to tell my family but I can't. Not unless I get 68+.

I read someones blog of how they were surprised that psychosis patients can sometimes miss their voices - well of course they would, they've spent (years) months with that constant companion, why wouldn't they miss it even if they don't miss the content? It's like those people who are psychotic but the voices are flattering, so they don't seek help. Why would you want to, when voices are telling you how great you are?

American Cheese and Sheeps

I watched America's Next Top Model just now, and I am embarrassed for New Zealand. Oh the shame. They had a lacklustre haka performed at the top of Mt Eden (which also raises the question, why weren't they welcomed properly at a Marae?) and all over it was shameful.

Oh! The photoshoot was with a sheep. In the country. How the hell are we going to get rid of the sheep jokes again? Damn sheeps.

Which actually reminds me, a few weeks ago Toe and I were running up One Tree Hill and as we crossed the paddock to the start of Iguana track (yes, I know sheep paddocks in the middle of the city, haha, New Zealand is so backwards), all the sheep in the paddock started running away from us. Not just the ones near us, but from the back reaches of the paddock. They were really going for it, with this wild look to their eyes. Naturally, I freaked out because I didn't know what they were doing (and I'd just had a run in with a cow when I jumped over the stye). All of them ran to a certain point in the stone fence, where they jumped over, crossed the road and scrambled up the side of the the hill. Seriously. Naturally, we followed them, because we are sheep also. Cars on the road were stopped, and tourists were taking photos. It was so bizarre. Not a single sheep was left in the first paddock, they were all grazing at the beginning of iguana track. WTF? There was a few pieces of hay lying around, but it wasn't like there was any less in the first paddock. There was no farmer, and the (evil) cows stayed exactly where they were. I wish I'd have had the presence of mind to take video of it.

Of course, a couple of days later the sheep started sneezing everytime we walked passed them, and now Toe and I are convinced that sheep flu will be the next flu to hit us. Toe is convinced that one of them will answer to "Wonky Donkey" like "Minty" did last year.

That wasn't what I came here to post; I was so embarrassed of the portrayal of NZ in ANTM, that I wanted to show people some decent Kapa Haka/Powhiri. I couldn't really find anything I liked, I must put up some of my cousin's stuff on youtube. Here is so stuff that is good (ok, so I like Hosea Gear with his shirt off). Much, much better than the haka of ANTM:



Yes, they are saying that they will slit your throat. Rugby is war, this is a challenge.

And as always, I end up with Poi E

I need to find a good hiding spot

A major component of my work project (at the Pantry) has just screeched to a resounding halt. I can either hope to use some of the savings I made in my project budget to get a vodem stick, hire one from work and hope that the Pantry will pick it up, or dash down to Esquires and have a "coffee" and steal their wireless. We're supposed to go live in the next week, so I'm in a bit of a state.

Results are still too far away and too close. I was talking about this with a friend as we scrambled up the side of (n)one tree hill, and realised that even if I get a high enough score to get into Sandstone University*, I'm not sure that I'd take it. The large class and the things I've heard, scare me. I think I'd rather chance it with a interviewing school and then if I'm not successful, go with Sandstone next year. I think I'm leaning towards Underwear University* or Supermarket University* or Last Train University*, I have no idea of how I'd preference them and I know that I'd be happy in any of them as they all have small classes. So it's down to New but Far Away state vs Expensive city but Early Clinical Skills vs Early Patient Contact. Toe told me that I would get a 66, 69 and 72. I hope that she's right.

I've decided that I need to be more girly and take some pride in my appearance. To that end, I will get my ears repierced this weekend. Where does an (semi) adult get ears pierced? Do I go to a tattoo store or will a chemist do it? Questions to ponder.

*Yes, I know I've made up stupid names but some attempt at anonminity is better than none.

Writing the book

So much to say, so much not to say. It's everything, and it's nothing.

I sat the dreaded test last month; I'm numb on how I did. Took a rather large gamble and wrote a short story for Censorship and bathered about CBT/DBT and looking back to know how to move on and create self-esteem. I don't know. I want to know and the two and a half weeks still to go seem to stretch untenably too far away; I don't want to know, knowing the results is too concrete, I can't stare into the mirror of my failure again.

Dating tried, failed and put on hold until after the results. Descriptions of myself as the ice queen oddly pleasing but still, deep down, I feel like I ought to scream out how not sure of myself I am, how I want someone to break through, I just want someone to want me and for me to want him back.

Work is boring hell and yet (good) things keep happening - got highly competitive funding, have papers being written. It's still not enough for me. I want more, something else. Anything else. I did turn down a (possibly) more interesting role because they only offered $50k. Moves must be up, not parallel or down. Good friend "Toe" is away for two weeks, and I honestly don't know how I'm going to cope - I have so little contact with others now that I'm alone in my office. I was supposed to work in the dungeon today, I rocked up at 10:30 and was gone by 3. How much longer can I cope with this lack of direction and desire?

Curious that I seem to be teetering on the edge of something, reading that back. I don't know? Maybe? Trauma seems to be following me but I've moved on from mine. I need to get this work study out of the way and maybe it will go away?

I want to make promises to post regularly, but I don't know how often I can lay out that I did nothing all day. If you promise yourself to post semi-regularly, is that worthy? Maybe I'll just try to ease myself into it, and celebrate success. It might be nice to blog about my anxiety rather than garble it to my friends and family?

I fail to knock on wood and the universe dicks me around

I am from good old Irish and Croatian families, so I don't know why I didn't knock on wood when I said to myself that my car didn't have any major problems, and wouldn't end up costing me much. I should've known better. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid.

My car broke down not 15 minutes later. I changed lanes, pressed the accelerator pedal and the emissions light came on. Of course, I didn't know it was the emissions light, so I kept driving - flicking the car manual while driving (we're not allowed to talk on our mobile phones, but this is apparently legal). It said that I didn't have to stop driving since it wasn't flashing. I figured I'd take it to the mechanics in the morning. No sooner did I dare to make that plan, than the freaking car started shuddering. Like the whole thing. I thought it might be trying to stall, or something, so I put it into Neutral but it kept shuddering. I stopped at the lights and tried revving it, since my transmission is weird and slow, but nothing. It sounded like it was insulted that I would try to fix it. I started freaking out and cursing my earlier glibness with planning a year of no big car repairs. Stupid self.

I pulled over into the nearby shopping centre, and parked it in the middle of two parks at the very edge. I know it is Christmas, but it was empty when I did this. I panicked, called my Dad - who pointed out that he was in Australia and thus unable to rescue me, and told me to call my Roadside Assist. Yeah, that would've been good to do first.

I called them. And I waited for over half an hour (20min tops, my ass!) for the guy to arrive. People parked around me, including a guy who decided that despite all the other freaking parks, he'd park in the park next to me - leaving like 20cm between our cars. My hood is up, I'm on the phone - don't you think that there might be a reason beyond I'm a girl and therefore bad at parking? Asswipe. So in that half an hour, how many people do you think asked if I was ok? NONE. They all stared though. How kind of them. I croatian waved back to them and they kept walking away. Asses. The Red Bull Promo girls were parked in their car opposite me. They gave a guy walking past a free can.....did they give me one? No. Stupid skanks.

Does this not scream, I am stuck here, give me a free drink or at least ask if I'm ok?

Roadside Assist guy arrives, asks me what the issue is, tells me that I'm wrong - it's not the emissions light, it's the engine. Oh wait, I'm right. Like I wouldn't have looked it up? WTF? I'm a GIRL, not incompetent! He has no clue what it is, so jumps into his truck and calls for a towie.

Yay! I think, "I'm getting the fuck out of here!" What the hell was I thinking? Obviously the universe was fucking with me, and the tow truck that was going to take another 40 minutes. Whatevers. I sat and waited, and then waited some more. I considered taking pictures of everyone who stared at my car but didn't stop, or posting their vehicle registration details somewhere, but my camera died. Cos the universe wasn't finished dicking with me yet.

I ended up waiting TWO HOURS. In that entire time, one person asked me if I was ok, or if I needed to call someone. ONE PERSON. The hell? What is wrong with people? I live in NZ, we're practically stuck in the 70's, neighbours look out of one another, I never lock my car at home. Once I left my lights on in the carpark across from work, and the attendant called the Hospital to find out my number since she could see I have the parking label in my window, to let me know. Our cops don't carry guns. Moko the Dolphin was headline National news for three days - he's on the news every year. We're supposed to care about each other, or at least be kind. Fuckers.

I sent out a lot of curses today. I hope their mobile phones die just as they are stranded somewhere. I hope their nails break and they scratch their eyes (yes, I did this earlier today). I hope they are underpoured and overcharged all New Years Eve. I hope that their BBQ's on the beach over summer are tainted with little bits of sand.

I guess it's time to admit that I've only stopped once, but that's because people normally break down on the motorway and I'm too busy yelling at the fuckheads in front of me to drive properly or get off the road, to see them and then I've already passed them. But if I saw someone in the parking lot who had their hood up? I'd ask if they are ok. I wouldn't stare. What if I needed to call someone and I didn't have my mobile? What if I had a baby that was overheating in the sun, and needed to take them inside for a few minutes? What the fuck, people?

My car has been towed to my mechanic. No one is sure what is wrong, and since I have to go to work tomorrow because of the stupid funding applications, I'm taking my aunt's car and seeing the mechanic in the morning. Grandad and Dad think it could be something very cheap (like $10) or it could be $100s. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve - there is a snowball chance that it will be done tomorrow, and since I'm going away on the Boxing Day Stat Holiday (Mon) for 8 days, I won't have my car back until next year. I guess this means that I'm not taking my bike for training while camping.

Adventures in Pre-Christmas Shopping

I always leave my Christmas shopping till the last minute. I like the atmosphere, I like the adrenaline of "oh, fuck - what the hell am I going to get Nana/Baby K/Neighbour Boy/random stranger on the street", I like the ability to go shopping late at night and the sun is still up. So this morning when I considered that I had plenty of time to go shopping, I decided to stay in bed (a good thing really since it decided that raining in December was appropriate) reading blogs. Specifically this blog, Amalah.com in all my creepy OCD tendency to read from the very beginning, like it is a book. I know. Creepy.

Anyway, since I'm lazy and it was raining, I stayed in bed while the others went out. And then got back home. Opps.

12.04pm Should really get going

12.05pm Maybe I'll read just one more month

12.11pm Ok, really should get going

12.24pm Why do I have no clean clothes?

12.26pm Decide that an outfit of 75% clean clothes is close enough. I do live out west afterall.

12.42pm Finish mocking my aunt for "camping menus and scheduled activities"

12.56pm Can't find hair brush, decide that messy hair in a ponytail is so in season, and refer to living out west again

1.12pm Have wallet and phone. Where did I put my keys?

1.14pm Start reading teh internets again. Wonder if the prominent NZ comedian is just as prominent as the prominent NZ entertainer ......i.e. not prominent at all and the name suppression didn't work - nor did he deserve it based on his future "record sales". Ass.

1.17pm Realise that this isn't helping me to find my keys. Resume search.

1.32pm Feeling a little frantic, have now lost keys and phone

1.37pm Recall that phone can be rung, dumbass, and proceed to ring it. Am very thankful that phone has an extra loud vibration, although I do occasionally wonder if my aunt thinks I am frequently using a vibrator late at night when someone txts me.

1.45om Realise that I have spent half a freaking hour looking for my keys and nothing. Shit. Have a look in my car - notice that it is really messy and resolve to clean it when back from shopping.

1.46pm Whine to my aunt that I can't find my keys. Ignore the mocking. Ask Baby K if she has seen them (No, and can't you see I'm busy sunbathing? And massaging the neighbour boy?) (Yes, she was wearing sunblock, and yes all of their clothes were on)

1.52pm Whining totally worked, Aunt is helping look.

1.53pm Keys are not in the fridge or freezer.

2.05pm Still no keys. Dammit.

2.15pm Aunt asks me when I last saw them. I think really really hard cos I already tried this game. I remember asking Kathryn to get yesterday's presents out of the boot, but already looked in that present pile and nothing.

2.17pm Hear triumphant yell from outside. My aunt hands me the keys from inside my boot, and damn they are hot from being in the hot car. I delight in their delicious burningness for my keys are here, in my hand and they burn with their realness.

2.18pm Realise that I will never live this down. Sigh.

That's right, a whole fucking hour it took me to find my keys. The hell? Last time I trust a 7 year old with my keys.

Numbers

Baby K: When did all the numbers come to our world? What's the last ever number?

Huh. Why not just break out the "What's sex?", at least I have a book for that.

Doing things right

The strangest thing happened on Saturday. Out shopping for a mother-of-the-bride outfit for our neighbour, we stopped for lunch and conversation took an unusual turn. The neighbour asked my aunt about her will and what she has determined for her girls (20 and 7). We're no stranger to macabre conversations in my family, but my aunt said that if something should happen to her (and it won't but we thought the same about my uncle, her husband.....and look what happened there), that she is going to place me as a potential guardian for Baby K. I had heard mumblings of this from the older cousin, but to have it confirmed over lunch and wine? Bizarre. I wouldn't be sole guardian, but should a decision about her future need to be made in such a situation, my other aunt and I would make the decision together.

Wow.

To tell the truth, I'm honoured that she would think that highly of me to potentially be responsible for raising her baby. She explained further that such responsibility is because I have such a strong bond with Baby K, I'm in her life and because I'm mature enough to be able to make decisions that are best for her. And it's true. Should the worse happen, I would give up everything in order to make sure that Baby K is ok. My aunt said that she didn't want this potential responsibility to change my plans, and I agreed it wouldn't (mainly because it won't, it can't happen), but if it did - I would. My plans (med school etc) could stand to be on hold. I wouldn't even give it a second thought before Baby K.

But even through this, I know that I won't have to. My aunt will hold on for dear life for Baby K. The honour? Leaves a lovely warm fuzzy feeling. I am seen as mature enough to be a guardian of someone else's kid - not for an hour or a week - but for a freaking lifetime.

I must be doing something right.

Being right isn't always best

A-Ha! The ennui has a cause.....I was right and I am anaemic! Not exactly something to be proud of since I'm at 2µg/L and normal is 20-160µg/L. Opps. Apparently giving blood really wasn't my smartest idea. I think I'm going to end up with the injections since I'm so low and I can't tolerate the supplements. Oh well, shit happens.

*Whistle*

I kind of failed greatly at the whole updating constantly thing. Not ideal really.

Christmas is kind of hurtling at us rather quickly. Strange really, I feel almost like I spent much of this year waiting only to find myself no further along that I was already. Le sigh. It is the ennui.

I started a new workplace, which we'll call....The Pantry, which started well initially. So much raw information at my hands, so many pretty graphs to make. However, I was asked (at v. short notice!) to do a report on waitlist data that was kept in freaking Word (!), which I diligently did.....only to discover that it was re-done by someone else. Every time I try to do something there, I am shot down, and made to feel like I am not as worthy..... all because I'm not clinical psych. I was warned, but didn't listen. However, I am going to take those three days a fortnight as for what they are - gifted study hours for the test of great evilness. I'm sort of vaguely attempting to be more onto it at the Zoo and the Dungeon, but I am not doing so well. I'm letting too much fall by the wayside and I can't motivate myself to do something about that.

Studying for that is going well, I feel more confident already. Quietly confident. I don't want to speak too much about it, but I"m holding it together. I still haven't told family, but I'm not hiding it at work. Just keeping holding on. Concepts are sticking better now.

I did another triathlon on the weekend - or rather, I did two thirds. I had to pull out after the bike leg because I couldn't breathe properly and I couldn't walk/run at all (stupid knee). Everytime I tried to take a breath, I would feel a sphere of burning pain behind my sternum and taste blood int he back of my throat. Not ideal really. It sort of resolved over the next 20 min while we rested, but I was wheezy and coughy all of Sunday, and same on Monday if I dared to walk up two flights of stairs at the Dungeon. Went to the Dr, apparently I had an asthma attack. I am fully medicated now - and since the GP Nurse has called me today, I'm guessing I'm also anaemic. Joy o Joy - maybe giving blood wasn't the greatest idea? I was just a little excited - first time in three years!

What's with the recent Road Safety ads saying that if you drive at 60km/h, you'll die and kill someone? That's the standard in Queensland; it's what I naturally sit at (speaking of which, I have my Full Licence now!!! I made it without a speeding ticket!).

Guy Fawkes came and went, I enjoyed the pretty, didn't enjoy the burning - a couple of sparklers singed my finger. Left a delightful blister and a burn mark on the deck from where I threw the damn sparkler.

I'm going to try the post every day ...or maybe every other day thing. I'll find some sort of inspiration.