Dearest post-recovery party animals of 2014,
Before I begin the spill of what has happened in my life and why my title is listed as so, I wondering as to how your New Year’s celebrating went. Did you wear that sparkly dress that has been mysteriously hanging in the back of your closet, calling out to you? Did you bust that bottle of bubbly open on the count of 1 before yelling out ‘Happy New Year’ and kissing the person next to you? And, did you bust out those seedy dance moves that when drunk, bring the utmost bouts of laughter to your fellow party goers but when sober; make you clutch your head in anguish and wonder out loud: “Did I seriously thrust my pelvis at Jeannie Black?”.
Yes my dear friend, you did thrust your pelvis at Jeannie Black. Not Once. Oh no, more than once. In fact you thrust your pelvis a total of 11 times while licking your lips in a suggestive manner. Oh you saucy little minx, you! And as my dear friend, Marvin Gaye, is singing into my little eardrums at the present point of time, ‘You are unforgettable. That’s what you are. Unforgettable’.
In case you haven’t done so, I would go and apologise to Jeannie Black and claim that you have given up drinking and that it was your first glass in a while. On other notes, I do hope that you have had a fantastic New Year and that you are sticking to those resolutions that we all seem to make but yet, end up giving up on them. I for one, not to brag, but have managed to stick to three of the five. Not as successful as one might hope but please, it is me after all. Need I say all.
Yes, yes; I can hear the “shut up Scarlett and tells us about the title. I am positively dying to know where you are moving because didn’t you just move?” But darling, I cannot tell you right away because what sort of person do you think I am?
Someone that spills everything before allowing you to sit down. “Get comfortable darling.” I murmur into your ear, while handing you a glass of scotch that has three ice cubes. Before bending over your strong, delicious smelling shoulder and unbutton your shirt. I than walk around and kneel down at your feet, pulling off your shoes and rubbing your tired feet after a hard day at work.
“Dinner will be ready after I finish rubbing your feet, darling. It’s your special.” because you need to be reminded how truly fantastic you are. Twenty minutes of massaging your feet that has made you slink down in your chair, the empty glass balancing in your finger tips and your shirt is askew; I than take your glass and move into the kitchen.
You walk over to our kitchen table and I have already pulled out your chair for you because you are tired from work. You proceed to tell me how work was and what you created today while I lay the steaming, hot, glazed garlic and rosemary drenched chicken on the table. The smell of it has your mouth watering and you cannot wait for it to be carved.
I then pick up the carving knife delicately between my fingers and swiftly begin to carve the chicken up while I glance up at you and notice that you are watching me. My luscious red lips slowly grin at….
Mhm, where was I again?
“Tells us why you are moving again, after having just moved to where you are now. Which we don’t exactly know where it is as it could be really on Mars for all we know.”
Fear not, my little astronauts and time travelling readers from around the planet of Earth; I am still here and am still in Australia. And if I wanted to go even more in depth for those, I am still in Queensland. I don’t plan on doing a runner any time soon without at least telling you in advance. Besides, I may bitch about my family members in front of their face but would I really leave you hanging on and growing bored of Siberia? No.
As for the person that I am when I am not grooving out to Sade and The Spice Girls and dancing like a fish out of water; my thought of moving started back in August. Yes I was still a student of University of Southern Queensland, living in a small redneck town and yes, I was still in a relationship.
I knew within myself that we wouldn’t end up marrying one another with the rate of how fast our Titanic boat was sinking and I knew it was better to throw myself off now then be carried under the tidal wave. So with that, I started getting my shit together and I enrolled through our website to get into another University. This website will be dubbed as God because God controls whether or not you get into University.
During this time after enrolling and hoping to the actual real God that I believe in, I started to slowly bring into conversations with Lois, ‘how do you feel if I moved to Gympie to attend USC or if I went to another University?’ Before eventually bringing up one day in our famous O’Chunky arguments that we almost end up needing to go too hospital for attacks of the tongue, I bellowed “You need to let me grow up and I will need to eventually leave. I want to leave because I am tired of being here and being dragged down.”
Lets just say: It didn’t go down well with Lois, I ended up storming off crying (I hate crying in front of people! Don’t judge!) and well the subject was brought up again the other day. The day after I got my results and my acceptance letter via email or rather gmail, asking me if I would like to accept the offer to study at the Queensland University of Technology to continue studying my degree of nursing.
Sitting there on the edge of the couch, peering over my mother’s shoulder I can honestly say I haven’t felt this much relief unless you can’t the day I broke up with said partner. But I also felt guilt because after having promised my Sister, Kaffy, that we would attend USC together as this is her first proper time at University and that we would move in together; I had robbed us of that opportunity.
And even though it appears that I am all excited, I am but I feel tremendously guilty and don’t know how to bring it up with Kaffy. Also, if I did go to start the conversation; I don’t think the starter should be “so, do you think its going to rain?” Pulling something my Dad would do when he is slightly uncomfortable (alot) at talking over the phone, wouldn’t be seen as appropriate and would make the tension more unbearable then it is. Or it could be put down to my Sister being a mini version of my Dad and not really giving a shit and myself being the miniature version of Lois and stressing the fuck out about nothing in general.
However it is a different story for Lois and I.
I truly do believe that the kitchen strings have been cut, sewn back into the folds of the apron and that I have been Red Riding Hood’s basket and now I am off to face Granny on my own. Except in my case, I may not know Karate but I do certainly know how to hit someone if need be, I don’t own an axe but I am going to get a baseball bat which proves to more thorough and unlike Red Riding Hood who knew her contact details, I don’t even know my Mother’s phone number. Mobile phone is not included but I am talking about the house phone number so I am guessing when I do move that I should put that into my phone.
Coming from a family where we are truly close and we are in each other’s back pockets too being two and a half hours away from them, is well I have to admit freaking me out. A lot. I think if we had stayed the six individuals under a roof then I would have been fine but considering we aren’t like that any more, I feel as if I may (will) miss out of things like watching my younger sister get a certificate as I have been there for my other siblings and for moments that are so massive that I cannot put down into words. Also, I won’t be living with family or friends instead I will be living in a household with what I deem as mass murderers, psychopaths and people who have weird fetishes like sniffing your bum while you are asleep.
The logical part of my brain is sitting here say that I am being stupid because not all of the population of Queensland is like that and that you are relatively normal, but I swear if I get the strange ones….You are in for a treat. My blog posts will never be the same again after the one I officially announce: I moved…Help!
Before I depart and head back to my main voyage of ABBA, does anyone know a good brand for computers? I fear that my little black bitch of beauty is on her way of dying (thank fuck for that!) as she is over heating and I am having to show her who is boss more than once a day. Could you please let me know so then I can go shopping and blow my student money on shit I don’t need.
Until next time,