Life over the past 60 or so days has been quieter and I have been enjoying the utmost simplest thing in life such as a decadent cup of tea in bed, those extra few naughty chapters after promising myself to put it down at the next page or strolling down memory lane with a cinnamon bun or two in hand. It also has been nice spending time with my sister and Mother as we carry on with our daily habits and lives. During this time, there has been countless moments spent plotting and writing future posts with a feverish influx of energy that are anxiously waiting to be released. As a result, this time away from Scarlett O’Chunky has not only been beneficial in the short run but in the long run, has also been a relaxing and joyous time for me.
Guess this is where I should admit to having made a bet with myself as to whether we would end up in bed or sitting huddled around my little white study desk, freezing. I presume after spending five years in bed and having developed a rather profound relationship with one another, you’ve become resilient to my midnight episodes of tapping, pondering questions and asking out loud, “Is there a limit on what is an adequate amount of cock before going into dangerous terrority of ‘erotic ashypia-cock-tion?”
Following familiar traditions that don’t appear like they’ll be dying anytime too soon, I am sitting here at two o’clock in the morning, writing this blog post on my April and May Monthly Favourites.
-April Monthly Favourites-
April started off with me hysterically laughing at myself because I had gone into ‘study mode’ and started freaking out about my upcoming exam and how I needed to study for it. Until it was brought to my attention, I had not only graduated college but there would be no more assignments and exams and must admit, it felt bizarre because I had been living on a weekly and hourly basis since 2013. This also meant: no more trudging through the empty streets of Brisbane City on a Saturday morning, briefly talking those doing their walk of shame back home at the pedestrian crossing, for a mid-semester exam.
My brain tried to decipher this meant no more college, internal and external forces of endless stress, anxiety attacks and the internal fear of being a failure (since I have incredibly high hopes and low self-esteem issues on my study capabilities). After my brain shut down for a split second from being overloaded with so much emotion and images, I acknowledged for the first time since being handed a fancy piece of parchment containing ‘Bachelor Degree of Nursing’ just how much I missed it all and everything that came with it. But more importantly, I missed the thrill I got when knowing I would be educated that day.
Instead of being consumed by the need to write and edit that pending 2500-word assignment and waiting with baited breath at where I’m going for clinical placements, my brain is trying to decipher the right balance of tea to coffee ratio. As a result, the world inside of my brain is deadly quiet and I am questioning as to whether there is something missing my life since I do not feel accomplished as I had originally hoped when starting this journey. Think this is where my Mother and all the Italian and Greek Mamas’ around the world would say, “Get boyfriend, get married and make babies.”
Although this seems like an entertaining prospect on the horizon as I am still searching for Mr. Darcy (his whereabouts are unknown), I have found something to curb the hunger pains and inquisitive questions for now and it features applying for a ‘downtime activity’. Having spoken to Lady Blacksnot III Esq., about her ‘downtime activity’ prior to doing her thesis, I became and still are actively involved in an online writing course. For the past 30 days, I’ve come to realise I do not have the passion nor sheer confidence for taking up the art of writing and blogging as a full-time job.
This writing course has defined my underlying passion for writing as it is a way for me to creatively explore the thoughts, feelings and experiences I have as a Registered Nurse and as a student nurse. But it also has brought attention to the forefront of my mind, the writing for my blog is merely part-time as I am more interested and focused on the concept of trying to make it as a Registered Nurse and digest the world of Grey’s Anatomy and Nurse Jackie.
Like the saying goes: You can take the girl out of medicine but you can’t take the love for medicine out of the girl.
Having written this sentence after stating I had wanted to take an indefinite break from nursing because of losing the passion for it after believing some remarks given by a clinical facilitator, I do believe Peter shall be thrilled for now. With the appearance of everything coming together before being laid at my feet for once, April decided it would take back the power of controlling my life and skydived without any warning when receiving a phone call from my mother, Lois.
The feeling I got when reaching a hand out to grab the phone call was to take a gulp of air because this could be very well the last breath I’d take for a while as the heavy set of waves crashed over the top of my head. Beginning the journey of swimming against the ripping waves, I braced myself for what was about to happen and as I stood in a kitchen that did not belong in my house, I had a fleeting moment of not knowing what to do with myself as it was a foreign concept. It was in this moment, my world had effectively come to an end when the faintest hiccup reached my ear and I knew, whatever was about to be said would destroy everything known.
As if this person who owned the strange kitchen knew whatever had been delivered hadn’t been received in a positive manner and I needed to be somewhere else, I was promptly escorted to my car and told to drive safely. In addition to finding my emotions going into witness protection on the drive back to The Little White House, I would have laughed when questioned as to how fast I had been driving (120 kilometres in some cases, if not more) since it only took me forty minutes instead of the usual hour to get there.
Successfully skirting around the topic of my speed, I was informed of the decision my parents had made as a partnership and it certainly was one of the many hardest and most difficult decisions in their 30 years of marriage. A brief second was given to every child’s fear of the horrific announcement of divorce as the image of two separate house with an additional spouse’s name you must remember; the other 57 seconds was spent deciphering what my parents had said about the beloved life of our family pet, our mate and fury brother.
My parents spoke of the ever-telling daily struggles Mr. Billy faced such as the battle it took for him to get up from his resting position, the limited amount of food he was consuming alongside the noticeable decline in body weight and how unwell he appeared. The final nail in the coffin (no pun intended) was the morning where Lois gave Billy a pat and he ended up whimpering as if he were in a great deal of pain. With the thought of Mr. Billy, my ever-faithful foot warmer and midnight snack buddy being put to sleep, I glanced down at my feet and looked at the different colours of black, dark blue and grey as they blended into his coat.
As if sensing my heart had splintered into fractured pieces beyond the minds capacity of thinking, I didn’t have the last laugh in the early hours of the morning when I found myself penning my last post back in April. Instead of collecting twigs and placing them at my feet or his ball as he was notorious for making you collect it, The Humog otherwise fondly known as Mr. Billy to those around the nation of Australia and the internet, decided he would have the last laugh by letting out the most disgusting fart imaginable.
There I sat surrounded by the greenest cloud containing methane gas, hysterically sobbing and laughing into my hands. I realised this could and would be the very last time I would find myself choking to death and a relatively large part of me that thrives on disturbing and sick things, I, we, would miss it greatly. I must admit there has been times within the last 30 days where I’ve found myself calling out his name and waiting patiently for the mass of blue, grey and black fur to come trotting up, with his tongue sticking out at the side.
Most would assume he was merely a pet, a word that I hate and loathe writing because it doesn’t give or do him justice in any form, Bill was so much more to me. So much so, I continue finding myself saying out loud when needing the comfort of which can only be obtained by the big, bulky and solid warmth of Bill alongside a sloppy kiss on the back of the hand, “I wish Billy were here.” Something I think will take a very long time to get over and will slowly stop saying.
While fighting against the overwhelming ocean of emotions for a breath of fresh air, I made the conscious decision to go offline after publishing my last post for the month of March. As I breached the surface and with a quick inhale, I didn’t experience the expected emotion of causing jeopardy to something I have been actively building over the past four years or so and with that, I have been able to use the time away in a more positive and uplifting aspect.
These past 30 days have allowed me time away from the internal struggle of trying to find words to fill sentences and paragraphs as well as trying to redeem the passion I had lost somewhere along the track. Because of this decision to take a step back and try again, I was out there and living life in the natural raw state it was presented in. I no longer lived on the context of my brain having to formulate mind maps on how things were going to be written, edited and designed. Not to mention, the suffocating thought of having to present what I have personally deemed as being “shit served cold on a silver platter” within a blog post on a blog.
Instead, my brain was silent for once as I wasn’t drowning in the perpetual bullshit I had thrown myself into. For the first time in God only knows how long because clearly, we speak to each other on a daily basis (not), the calmness and quietness that seemed to creep its way into my life allowed me to capture and identify moments of self-worth. As well as the importance of having mental memories and physical ones, not only for future generations or when wanting to glance back upon the past. In fact, my favourite memory would be attending Kaffy’s twenty-something birthday and unlike any other normal family, Lois and I conducted a cooking class over the phone.
It’s moments like these alongside so many others that I am rather particularly fond of, especially at the decision of keeping them to my chest for the mean time like a hand of aces, it gave birth to my tiny little spark of creativity. This rather tiny spark I speak of has not only given way to me revisiting the past, but when returning to the present, I was able to discover the ins and outs of what it really takes to write a true heartfelt post. Particularly after many months of uploading sh*t.
For this Dearest Reader, I must apologise because this is not what I thought and perceived blogging and writing to be especially when kicking my blog off from the ground. Having had the opportunity to take time off to revisit the past, criticize the present and what has been delivered and evaluate the future at great depth, I was able to identify a few key points and is something I shall discuss with you in the next upcoming post.
While my life outside a screen continues to grow in leaps and bounds as I develop a greater understanding of how it is that I wish to write, I equally welcomed the prospect of leaving April and everything that has occurred for the enticing clean slate of May. However, at the same time, quietly came to terms with what April had brought to our family and with this, found myself getting down on my knees to pray for a more peaceful, happier and prosper month for all of us.
Even though I opened the communication channel between myself and the Big Guy upstairs, I don’t think he received and forwarded the memo to everyone in my family since he was saving the world from World War III. May became an interesting time of the year.
-May Monthly Favourites-
Unlike April’s start with me hysterically laughing at my own stupidity before the reality of complete and utter boredom set in, my first inclination of how May was going to start was the text message I received from the long-lost brother of mine. When he isn’t gallivanting around the country side with pixies or choosing to ignore the context of how his birth family works, I received a text message from Pablo asking if he had been immunised as a child.
The family orientated side of my brain went into shut down due to shock as it had been over a month and a half since I had last heard from him and 2 months since I had last seen him in person. However, the logical and nursing related part of the brain automatically picked up something was wrong and after quickly dialling his number, I was greeted with a “Hey Baby, how’s is you going?” from a rather drunk sounding Pablo.
Being asked again if he had been immunised as a child and me inquiry if he had been drinking and why he needed to know if he had been immunised, I was informed courtesy of my giggling, drunk brother that he had had a ‘little accident’ at work. Now the last time Pablo had had a ‘little accident’ was when he had elected to put a sowing machine needle with cotton thread attached through his finger (every Home Economics class gets reminded on ‘how to not do a Pablo O’Chunky while Pablo is seen as some legendary God) and the time, he decided walking into a beam at high school and sustaining a concussion would be highly appropriate.
After initially refusing to get off the phone until I was told what had happened, I politely listened to my brother telling me about the wonderful drugs that had been given such as the “dragon green whistle”. Having heard him making the sound of a train, I had only so much patience that day before snapping at him to “wake the f*ck up and snap out of it!” Least to say, I finally got my answer alongside three very graphic and visually appealing photos of my brother’s left thumb being smashed to mangled pieces, courtesy of a sledge hammer.
Thinking this was the second strike on the list of bad things happening within our family, Lois received a call from my maternal Grandfather and during the call, alerted us to the recent change of health regarding my Nanna. We would be informed after being diagnosed with repeated strokes in 2016 that left her with slurred speech, a slowed gait and some difficulty with memory, my Nanna had been found unconscious in her car at a car park.
Although I have made the ultimate choice to not speak to or see my Grandparents for a variety of different personal reasons that I do not wish to discuss in any context, I did have that moment of empathy and concern as any grandchild would experience. Even though a part of me was angry at not having been told of the impending health concern for one of my grandparents, I listened in silence to my Grandfather informing Lois and I of how medical examinations and procedures had been undertaken by medical staff and as a result, Nan had been diagnosed with a bleed on the brain.
However, before you start the mourning process in black, I can inform you Dearest Reader of mine that my Grandmother is still alive and hasn’t kicked the bucket yet. Something the family orientated part of me, who believes in having maternal grandparents as well as serendipity grandparents, is thankful for but at the same time, the other part of me who made the decision to walk away and not look back is emotionally distant about the whole process.
When it felt like everything had synced into place and appeared to be relatively normal, the final blow to our ultimately lingering hat-trick would be the question of, “can you take your sister to the hospital?” If this wasn’t a clear indication of how my life as a Registered Nurse would pan out to be after spending the remaining years of my life secluded in a hospital hallway and dealing with disgruntled family members, I willingly picked up my car keys and drove my sister to the hospital.
Sending out a mental message to The Big Guy upstairs about the lack of etiquette regarding the forwarding of my original email/memo to everyone in the family, I waited patiently for Kaffy to be admitted as a patient into A&E (emergency). With another series of assessment and examinations being performed by the wonderful triage doctors as I tried to not laugh at the intern’s stunned look upon his face, Kaffy was awarded the lucky door prized of a prescription, back up supply of medication for the morning and the lesson of how vertigo is a real bitch.
Aside from sending my family members a memo of workplace health and safety procedures and how I will not be available for any hospital trips soon because I clearly need a break; May has produced and delivered fundamental building blocks for furthering my relationships with friends, extended family members and my siblings. Such as, it has been brought to my attention that the three eldest siblings within the immediate O’Chunky clan have formed an even closer bond of comradery and friendship.
Even though my parents have actively and encouragingly raised all four children on the pretext that one day both Mum and Dad would die and therefore leaving us alone. We would, as brothers and sisters, come together as a united front and be each other’s support team or solo group member because we would be able to understand where the other is coming from. This realisation of how incredibly close Frodo, Kaffy and I have gotten over the past month also brings to light, how vastly different and sadly, visibly strained the relationship between myself and Pablo, as well as all four of us, has become within the past 6 years. More so, within the last 5 months.
Though it appears I am boiling to the brim with clichés and metaphors on how I live my life as a person and not as a blogger/writer, I am a firm believer in time of being the essence and how it will be the one true thing that shall tell us as to how things shall pan out between Pablo and me. Not to mention the relationship between the immediate four children in the O’Chunky household.
Speaking of the O’Chunky children and my mostly-wonderful family, I wish to announce the exciting news of Lady Blacksnot III, Ms. C, Ms. Fran-Kay, Mr. Delicious and The Babes became adopted into the family household and name by Lois and Red. As an older and younger sister, I got to celebrate with Frodo and Ms. C by a joyous phone call to the latest cooking segment known as, “Mum, how do we cook?” before ducking down to Brisbane and personally congratulating Lady Blacksnot III on her adoption for a weekend getaway and to celebrate her twenty-something birthday.
Being greeted by the image of Lady Blacksnot III bouncing on the spot while excitedly clapping her hands because I held a couple of bottles of wine in my hand (I know how to win her heart over), I was wrapped up snug into her embrace and was given a kiss on the cheek. Soberly thanking me for coming and celebrating her twenty-something year of being a cold hearted, kick arse full-time lawyer bitch; but more importantly for being one of her best friends, it all came to a complete end when a lone yell pierced the air.
As a warm body hurtled its self towards me while yelling out my name, I braced myself for the solid impact of another body hitting mine all before the feeling their arms wrapped around my body. It was then I caught the smells of home, delicate feminine skin alongside the extradentary smell of home cooking and sunk into the tiny height and delicate body that belonged to LBS’ mother, otherwise fondly known as Mama C or ‘Mama’ for short.
Hanging on for dear life for a couple of amusing minutes before wrenching her body away from mine, I watched in silence while grinning as Mama overlooked my physical wellbeing before nodding her head because I not only appeared well fed but I was happy and healthy. While patting my now empty hand after having given the bottle of wine to LBS, Mama stated upon introduction to another party guest that I was her adopted daughter and she loved me dearly (this was a knee melting moment!).
Before quickly changing tactics by giving me a stern telling off for not having come to see them more often and discovered the real reason as to why it had been a month and a half between each visit. I grinned even more naughtily when Mama raised an eyebrow in my direction like ‘I expect to know more’ before excusing herself back to her domain of heaven, the kitchen.
Thus, this is where this section ends for I made the conscious decision to not blog about Lady Blacksnot III’s birthday since I wanted to experience the moment for myself. But after having alerted my decision to Lady Blacksnot III and with her permission, I suggest popping out the champagne or chocolate vodka cake because we did not expect this to ever happen. My second announcement of the blog is: Lady Blacksnot III is not only a full-time lawyer bitch but she is a full-time partner!
Lady Blacksnot III has officially been deleted from the single spinsterhood association of 82 cats and is dating a man who was previously known as ‘Chicken Shit’. After having met the man who destroyed my filing system and added another reason for a psychologist on speed dial, I have been able to witness the true sense of how happy LBS is and therefore, have decided that Chicken Shit is no longer a valid nickname for this man. So from this moment onwards (until he fucks me off beyond all comprehensive levels), he shall be known as: ‘Leather Coat Guy’.
Finally, I would like to thank you all sincerely for the private and public messages, hugs and kisses of condolences I have received over the past month. Receiving those thoughts have been greatly accepted and received from not only myself but the rest of the family as well. I hope you have a wonderful week and I will see you back here on Wednesday, 10 am (GMT+10).
Until next time,