I am currently writing this blog post from my ill/sick bed or rather should I be saying the spot on the couch that I have decided on claiming as mine while residing in The Little White House. At the present moment of time, I am craving an iced tea but the thought of making tea and then discovering that we have no ice, has put a fizzle on that idea and I am now drinking a hot tea. Now as to the reason of being in my ill bed and in case you are concerned that I could be dying or am about to make some announcement, my excuse is that I am finding myself distracted by my perky right breast thanks to my hot water bottle. Am typing with one hand so therefore finding it rather difficult and I cannot comprehend what has just happened.
With that and since it appears that I am suffering from a small bout of ADD, as I have just been distracted by my right breast again (I am sure The Sheriff is going to be laughing at this) and by House Rules. For those who do not reside in Australia, House Rules is a television show here in Oz where six groups battle it out to renovate each teams house in a week, to earn enough points to gain them entry into the grand final. And the total prize at the end of it is having their house paid off. Even down to the last remaining little penny. After having quickly glanced a the television because something caught my eye, all I am thinking about is the beautiful beach wallpaper in the kitchen and who the hell went ape shit with an almost borderline fluro yellow paint.
That by the way isn’t just on one wall as a focus feature but rather is painted around the dinning room and into the kitchen. Holy moly, that is fluro. Where are my sunnies when I need them?
In other news, my life has been pretty productive of late.
It has consisted at the present moment of late nights before eventually falling into bed and telling myself that I need to go too sleep and it has to be a decent amount. And after a week of spending most of the night twiddling my thumbs like some house wife that wasn’t satisfied with the sex that night, counting sheep/naked men/condoms and having to resort to the last thing of dragging out a textbook since I want to bore myself to death, I was on the verge of ripping out my hair from stress and sleep deprivation. Cue the discovery when I was flicking through the apps on iTunes after purchasing my ‘smut’, an app that plays sounds for those who clearly have difficulty trying to fall asleep.
So after setting myself a remix of whale sounds and the soothing and relaxing sound of waves, all I remember last night was this: getting out of bed, stubbing my toe and calling out “shit, you motherpucker!”, staggering to find a soft shirt of my brothers and climbing into bed. My last thoughts were why did I cut myself shaving that morning and the iced tea I had
that afternoon was fantastic. I must have zonked out because I woke up sometime this morning around nine o’clock and felt as someone had not pounded me in the head, my eyes were gritty and on fire and that some person had decided on running me over with their car.
Now while I may have had a great sleep since I do not remember dreaming at all, during the day is a completely different theme that goes on. One day my body decides that walking around in a slumber hazed/induced coma type experience is a really lovely idea and that I am not going to properly wake up until sometime in the late afternoon. Before wanting to fall asleep at seven o’clock before no doubt being wide awake by ten and that I can do anything I want. With that, I am hoping that when I go for my sleep apnoea test in a week’s time that the person watching me all night can give me a clear understanding as to why I have been feeling like this for a couple of months now.
For the other days of the week were I am not walking around like a zombie, I am completely different. Think insanely different. Where for instance one moment I am talking normally and just lounging on the couch, discussing world politics for example. Than the next I am jumping up and down on the spot, screaming at Lois “I fucking love you Marv! You whacko, jacko, la-facko-backo”. Then putting Lois in a headlock and crooning her a lullaby while stroking and petting her hair like she needed to go too sleep. Only to then burst out into a hysterical laughter before abruptly stopping and blinking slowly. No wonder why the poor woman in contemplating adopting me out, waiting until I leave as Uni starts shortly and she doesn’t have to worry about me trying to kill her with my bi-polar moods.
Not that I am blaming the poor woman or my family because if it were them, I would have locked myself in my room and pretended that no one was home. Complete with a little sign stating so.
Just reading that, I am happy to announce that I possess jealousy over those who can sip a
cup of herbal tea, walk into the bedroom and get comfy into their bed and then go off to sleep like that. In fact, I am almost borderline disliking you. All boils down to jealousy and the fact that I am just a freak who spends ten minutes getting comfortable in bed until finding that one position and perfect pillow position.
Otherwise if not, I punch my pillow repeatedly until I don’t give a shit any more and I find that I am smothered when both feet are under the covers. So one foot must be outside of the blankets at all times and considering it is my right foot and its winter, I am slowly training myself into sleeping with a sock on. Plus, I don’t understand how people can only sleep in one position all night while I am the complete opposite. I spend most of the night tossing and turning while I am asleep, I sometimes talk in my sleep and that on the occasional period, when having a nightmare that I have belted by bed partner up. All I can say is, poor bastard who is going to be sleeping next to me for the rest of my life.
Now for those who are sitting and saying out loud, ‘you need to try herbal teas, soothing music, no electronics at least an hour before bed’. Well I have tried all of those and none of them work and I find that to be annoying because clearly they work for others, just not me. Yes, you can say it out loud: Freak! In fact this is the list that I have composed for your amusement and clearly not to mine but I am willing to share my thoughts from my sleep deprivation to what I think of bikini waxing.
- Walking at least two hours before going to bed to release pent up energy.
- Having a shower before bed and wearing comfy pyjamas.
- Having warm milk with no sugar and a swish of honey to add sweetness.
- Not eating after 6.30, 9.00, 11.00 in the evening, which backfires because I wake up like a cranky bitch the next morning.
- No electronics at least an hour before hitting the hay which features me pulling out a book and reading all of it because I cannot put it down.
- Counting sheep
- Slowly relaxing body while telling myself ‘I’m going to relax my little toe…relaxing my little toe’.
- Hot chocolate.
- Stretching out the muscles by doing yoga or meditating.
- Telling myself that I am going to dream of being stuck in a burning apartment and some hunky fireman, who accidently forgot his shirt but managed to get his helmet is going to save me.
Come on body!
Most single, some married women and a lot of gay men would be all over number ten. The thought of being rescued by some hot guy dressed in a fireman’s, cops uniform, naval uniform or basically any type of bloody uniform that turns people on and want to go too sleep. Seriously body, its a hot looking fireman with sweat dripping down those muscles, the fireman helmet working that gleam in his eyes as he looks over your body in which you happen to be wearing your best lingerie set for. The ‘Ma’am, I’ve come to rescue you’ comment before reaching out with that steely band of muscles wrapped around in beautiful smooth skin, that wraps around your waist and drags up against his chest. And you feel your heart give a little flutter and a gasp escapes from between your lips.
Now like most normal people, they would be getting slightly turned on by that and will be trying to figure out if their house insurance is going to cover accidental fires, with the hopes of being rescued by the firies. In my case, or rather my body and its disturbing case, it has now is registered under the title of ‘true feminism with wordings of inspiration by Germaine Greer‘. Since my body is clearly rejecting dreaming about a hunky fireman and is two steps away from burning all of my bras in some sort of protest, while declaring that no man shall ever have the right of taking away my rights as a woman and therefore limiting or quietening my opinions or thoughts.
With that thought or rather sentence, I would like to point out that I realised that it is not only men who belittle women but it can also be women who do that. I discovered that fact out yesterday afternoon while I was heading towards the bank, when I spotted a lady with her soon to be teenage daughter. Smiling at them, I heard the Mother say to her daughter “She’s wearing make up. Clearly she’s a slut and asking for it”. That automatically made me stop, the smile disappear from my face as my brain tried to work out what the lady had just said and soon became horrified that someone would say something like that. And destroy my positive thought about how pretty I looked by a simple comment.
I used my time after ordering my iced tea to go, waiting in line and smiling at another young girl, heading to where I had parked the car, smiling at an elderly man who winked at me as he drove past and driving home, to think about this lady’s comment about me ‘asking for it‘.
And now I am only going to say this once and I am never going to say it ever again. So, pay attention Ladies and Gentlemen. I am not only a female but also I am a survivor of being attacked by a so called family friend. With that, I am deeply offended by this woman’s comment about ‘asking for it’ because no rape victim, sticks her hand up willingly and asked to be raped or attacked. No, scratch that. I am always offended when someone makes a comment about wanting to be raped, has been raped and blames it upon themselves, wants to rape someone or sits there and says that every woman should be raped because of what she wears, how she does her hair, if she wears make up or genuinely doesn’t fit into the category of what society wants.
No woman, man, child, elderly person or in some cases, animals wants to be raped.
Rather most cases that I know of, the rape victims sit there and say “Why did that happen to me? What did I do to cause that to happen to me? And I cannot tell anyone because ‘its our little secret‘”. We don’t sit there over breakfast or a cup of tea and loudly proclaim to other rape victims or even our family members, “I deserved to be attacked that day/morning and raped. I in fact liked lying underneath my attacker and enjoying it because I had asked for it.”
After driving around before coming home, I proceeded to tell Lois what had happened. To much Lois’ dismay, anger and hurt, I decided on being an adult and didn’t bag this lady out on social media. Instead, I decided to be a voice for women/men/child/animals who have been raped or attacked by taking a photo of what a person who is ‘asking for it’ and stuck my personal thoughts up along side it. And since a photo can say a thousand words and more, here is your personal thought opportunity.
Walking towards the bank this afternoon and overheard a lady with her daughter say, “she’s wearing make up. Clearly she’s a slut and asking for it.”
This makes me wonder what we are telling the younger generation of women, that playing with and wearing make up is considered to be disgusting, against someone’s law, shouldn’t be done and that all women who wear this is asking to be raped.
In my defence to this lady’s thought, my picture isn’t next to the word slut in the dictionary nor is my name and number written on the toilet wall in the men’s bathroom. I am not ‘looking for it’ and no woman is.
So with that, that was my lesson for yesterday and my opinion on women who are outside of my Mothers, Favourite Aunts and friends has dramatically changed. And, moving on with life now.
Now for those days that I am able to ‘funcation’ like a normal person who has had several espresso shots, I have managed along with the help of the ‘rents (Lois & Red) to make arranges of travelling. No not to some fantastic get away island that contains coconuts, a mansion and my fabulous bikini body but rather travel to the small country town containing cowboys, belt buckles and four wheel drives/utes. Which was exciting come to the day of driving four and a half hours to this destination, that all three adults who have a brain each and driver licences, forgot to the utmost important thing that you require when owning a car.
The car keys.
It was only for the fact that Lois was going through her mental check list, that I swear most mothers’ have programmed into their heads that contains the listings of: numbers, addresses, important dates, birthday/anniversaries/deaths, important thing to remember, shopping list, birthday presents of five years ago (so as not to repeat) & miscellaneous. After that, Lois turned to Red and said, “do you have the keys for the car?”
Red peels his eyes off the road for half a blink and replies as my heart starts to slow, “No. I assumed you had them which is why I didn’t ask if you had them. Scarlett, did you grab them?” Next minute, I am staring into Lois’ hazel eyes peering at me from around the head rest and I confirm the dreading response that no, I didn’t have the keys and that clearly because we are all stupid, that we have forgotten the keys. To the car. So for the next half an hour after randomly stopping in the middle of the road and Red suggesting that ‘we should turn back’ and me going, ‘no continue and we will smash a window’, that my parents started the apologising game.
“I’m sorry I forgot the keys. It was all my fault as I was going to grab them last night and put them into my handbag but I got distracted. I am so sorry”.
“No it was my fault, I should have grabbed them when I made the coffee this morning”.
So forty five minutes of listening to this, I had had enough and because I have lived with Lady Blacksnot for too long, I let it rip. No, I am not talking about a fart for those who are immature but rather my inner thoughts. And it may have gone something along the lines of this: “Lois, you were in the wrong because you were standing in the kitchen last night and didn’t put them in your handbag. Dad, you were wrong because you were hurrying us this morning like normal because we had to leave before seven. And with that, chill the fuck out next time. I am sorry and I am also at fault because I was standing there filling up my water and staring at the keys. Also because I was having a mild panic attack but next time, we have learnt from this and we shall ask one another before leaving the house if someone has the keys. Okay? Good, now be quiet and listen to the music”.
So after Lois called our knight in shining white car, my other Mum drove an hour and a half complete with Lady T in tow to drop off the keys to the car before heading back on the road. To which, I have discovered that Nanango, a tiny rural town that makes Millmerran look like a rural town on the verge of going ‘social’, has introduced traffic lights and that no one understands what the orange light means. Green means, go as slow as you want through the lights, orange means maybe contemplate stopping but increase your speed and red means, why the fuck not and just go straight through them. Quite entertaining watching that scene unfold before my eyes while waiting.
Arriving a few hours later after winding through Toowoomba and wondering what I actually missed about this place and the thought of my Uni friends, the pubs I used to go too and that’s about it passed through my mind. And with that, discovering that when leaving Toowoomba and Pittsworth that there was no more road works after Pittsworth. Remember the days in my previous blogs that I used to bitch about being stuck in road work for thirty minutes, I had done my make up and I was still being held up because some tosser hadn’t thought of turning the sign from stop to slow. It was only then that I had started to become closer to our destination that I had another mini panic attack.
Using my best ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice, I demanded for Red to drop me off at the crossroads just outside of the town, I would wait patiently for them to do what we had come here to do and that when finished, they could come and pick me up. Clearly my plan had not been thought through enough because Red just drove on through my drop off zone and we entered the town. Automatically I felt myself revert back to the person I had originally been when I moved to the country town because clearly I did not want to be there when I was 15 and not much had changed when I was 24.
Over the next hour, my ‘Peter’ temper threatening to erupt, the car almost being wiped out by complete fuckwits who shouldn’t have a licence and glaring at the local busy body, who know doubt would be on the phone in under 5 minutes with the ‘latest news’. I had had enough and wanted back into civilisation. Now even though I do speak negatively on this place, it also had some positives such as it made my family and I a lot closer that what we had been before moving there. I learnt how to start a proper fire and with that, gained muscle from hand sawing wood for said fire, I discovered how racist and nasty people can be and that not everyone you meet in life is going to like you. I made friends with people who were younger then me since I didn’t have much in common with those my own age.
I got my independence when I finally got my licence along with the satisfaction of telling the retired secretary of the Police Station, Mary-Ann, that I had finally stepped up and gotten it. I learnt my work ethic and how to stand up for myself by telling people, “No, I will not be working your shift or any shift that I do not want to work because I have stuff planned for that”. Which soon quickly made people realise that I had a back bone and I wouldn’t stand down for anything less that what I demanded or required. With that, came the caring for those who were elderly in the community, learning how to cope and deal with dementia that sometimes would take a turn for the worse. And often led to me wondering why I worked in that field and with that, the decision that as much as I like elderly people, when I became a Registered Nurse that I would never work in that field again. I got to the watch life being created within the human body, discuss pregnancy and weird cravings to the evolution of the final breath being taken and leaving the body.
Being accepted into university to start another chapter of my life along with gaining a better understanding who I am as a person. To which I hope that I can reflect back on my blog when it comes to hanging up the line of blogging for my own entertainment and self discovery, your amusement and to make other students studying to be in the nursing industry; that they aren’t the only one’s experiencing these crazy, emotional feelings. It also saw the ending of a two year relationship with the man, who I thought at the time, was the love of my life and what I hoped to be the father of my children. I learnt that not every relationship ends in happiness, someone/both will get hurt. I had been taught that I was worthy, men treated women with respect and that Mother-in-laws weren’t scary but were actually, really nice and lovely.
And that not all guys were a bunch of tossers who treated women like doormats and that I knew what I wanted in a man.
However even though that there may be positives, there were more negatives that outweighed the positive. And since it is the month of July, I have decided that with it being a new month that I am going to use this month to have more positive thought in my life. With that, I am not going to negatively more about what is in the past and I am going to kick arse for this month.
With that, I wish you all the best for the month of July and may your ambitions inspire you towards positivity and striving for your best. For those who are doing ‘Dry July’, I hope you reach the amount that you wish to raise for those who are fighting cancer or who have been diagnosed with cancer. And when it comes to donating that amount, you have the sense of self appreciation and knowledge that what you have done, has helped someone else’s life.
And for my American family members, as today is the 4th of July, I wish you a very Happy Fourth of July and I hope that the fire works and family gathering makes you all gooey and warm. As for my Australian friends and family, TGIF! Also Sheriff, just tell me already as I am tired of being patient and for your information, I will stop pestering you if you tell me. Is it: Williams?
Until Next Time,