pruesaysit.com

Teething Problems

So I went to the Dentist the other day to finally arrange having my top 2 Wisdom teeth out. I was really worried and anxious about what the Dentist would be like…Most I’ve seen have been terrible. But this guy was lovely! He reminded me of Hector Alezondo… you know the guy from Pretty Woman and Chicago Hope? The mere fact he looked like someone I like put me at ease instantly. He told me he’d be able to take them out in 30 mins! Could you believe it? I told him he’d want to do a good job of it, because the last Dentist I saw ended up on THE LIST. He laughed and told me he’d use plenty of Anesthetic to make sure he doesn’t end up on THE LIST. So now that that is sorted and I have an appointment to have my teeth out, I’m feeling much more relieved. 19th June…. c’mon June!

Speaking of the 19th of June, that’s the last day of my Lease here. I told you my Landlord gave me a notice to vacate yes? What a cunt. But then again, it’s totally for the best coz this house is falling apart and my Lanlord is an absolute arsehole. Although, looking for a house at the moment is a nightmare. Seriously, a total nightmare. We applied for a place last week in Parkdale… we were the first ones in with an application… we gave them a folder that had everyones payslips and references in it, and still we didn’t get the house. They gave it to the couple with the baby on the way. Fuck couples in the arse! They are the bane of my existence at the moment. They are thwarting every chance we have at finding a place to live.
The pressure to find somewhere to live is mounting. The fact that Nate isn’t paying the rent here certainly isn’t helping matters! I’m in constant fear of falling 14 days behind in the rent and having them evict us even earlier than June. So yes, as you can tell, the housing issue is definitely a big stress for me right now.

The other day a guy I know told me that I was a spectacular woman and that any man would be lucky to snag me. It totally made my day. It was really sweet to hear someone say that.

In other news, I am ridiculously horny and need to get back on the horse soon. 12 months is a long time my friends. I think I’ve missed kissing more than anything to be honest…oh and spooning. Can’t forget spooning.

Any and all donations of AA Batteries and/or housing gladly accepted.

Shrinkage 1 & 2

I wasn’t quite as nervous going to the Shrink as I thought I’d be. I guess because I’d met her a few times before there wasn’t the unknown factor lurking in the back of my mind that would normally make me super anxious. Turns out, I was right to be comfortable and calm about it because she’s wonderful. My shrink, who’ll henceforth be known as ‘Shrink’, is about the same age as my mum. She’s lovely and funny and has a very nurturing aura about her that put me at ease straight away.
These first two sessions we’ve spent with her getting to know me. I’ve just talked and talked and she’s listened and told anecdotes and interacted with me like you would a friend, albeit a friend you pay to hang out with. I really feel like we’re on the same wave length and her suggestions have made me feel empowered, which is something I haven’t felt for a long time.

We’ve talked about family, friends, relationships, past therapists, dentists, having kids, my Endo, suicide, ‘beige’, books, theories. I haven’t felt ‘under the microscope’ at all, which is something that has surprised me.  I expected to be judged and analyzed but instead I feel safe and confidant that she sees me as a whole person, not just the screwed up bits.

My first weeks homework was to identify my ‘cycle’… I promise, there’ll be no talk of ovulation.

Basically, here’s how it goes when I start to meander off track.

Beige settles in for whatever reason. Because I feel down, I isolate myself and avoid friends. I worry that I’ve upset my friends by avoiding them so I don’t call them for support. Instead, I stay in my room alone, where I’m left with only my thoughts so they begin to fester and they get worse. I find it hard to sleep with those kind of thoughts in my head, so I sleep all day and can’t sleep at night. This throws my body out of whack and I begin to feel worse. I lose motivation to do daily things like move, bathe, eat or take my medication. Without my meds, I get worse and at my worst, I can’t get out of bed. This means, I don’t put in my centrelink form because I can’t muster the motivation to get there. Without being paid, I don’t have money to buy my medication. So the cycle just gets worse until I call Mum and she fills my prescription and organizes to get me to Centrelink. This makes me feel like I have some semblence of control again, and I start back on my meds. My mood improves and a week later, I’m back to ‘normal’.   This happens every 3 months or so, sometimes more, sometimes less. It can vary in severity, who helps, how I deal with feeling so down, but essentially that’s the general pattern.

My second weeks homework is to identify the signs of ‘beige’ and put together an evacuation plan, so to speak;

Start to feel beige… what should I do?

-Play with Columbo
-Sit outside in the sunshine and have a few ciggies
-Have a shower and wash my hair, shave my legs, pluck eyebrows
-Call a friend and make plans and ask them to make sure I don’t cancel
-Go for a walk…doesn’t have to be a long one, just get moving.
-Go to the folks for the evening
-Write how I’m feeling in my blog, even if I have to make it a private entry
-Visit Cuteoverload.com
-Have a snooze, but only after I’ve had a shower
-Go to bed early
-Call and talk to Mum

I have to think of some more…if you have suggestions, feel free to leave a comment, that’d be awesome.
Anyway, thanks for reading all of this. Some of this might get a bit boring for you or a bit “TMI”, so it’s cool if you wanna skip it.
But I really appreciate the support I’ve had and this is a really big deal for me, so it means a lot.
Thanks guys (you know who you are)

xoxoxox

Out.

Last weekend, I went out on Saturday night. No biggie for most people, but I haven’t been OUT out on a Saturday night for years. And cop this, I didn’t freak out at all. I didn’t have to leave early. I didn’t feel sick. I didn’t spend all night in the can or hiding somewhere. In fact, I did quite the opposite. I danced my arse off and got sweaty with masses of gorgeous gay boys at the Greyhound. Their drag show is brilliant and stars the talent of one Queen who is the spitting image of Liza Manelli! She was fucking amazing. I’ll so be back there sometime soon! Anyway, the talent that on offer notwithstanding, the most exciting part of the night was…well…me. The fact that I could be okay in a loud and sweaty and crowded pub without feeling like I was about to die. The fact I was there with friends I trust, in a non threatening environment certainly made me feel much more at ease and while I’m not likely to become a party animal any time soon, it’s nice to know I can be a party insect when I need to be.

F U Old Man

 A few weeks back, I yelled at an old man in public. Not just yelled, but swore at him too. And it felt gooooood.
I was in the car with mum, parking at the Shopping Centre and this old guy plowed into a parked van. He hit it so hard, he struggled to release his own car from the bingle. He stopped for a few seconds, looked around to see if anyone was watching and then proceeded to reverse out and go on his way. That shit is so not on, so I got out of the Vulva and approached his car. Apparently his driving had caused another girl to have to brake quite hard and so she’d wound down her window to give him a piece of her mind, so when I got to him he was mouthing off at this poor chick calling her a ‘fucking bitch’. I knocked on his passengers side window and asked him if he’d planned on leaving his name and number on the car he’d hit. He was already super agitated and aggressive so he started yelling at me that he ‘hadn’t hit it at all’ and then he was all ‘I barely touched it’ and I replied that it was common courtesy to leave your details if you hit someones car and if he didn’t, I’d gladly leave his rego number in a note on the other cars windscreen. Oh man, he cracked it big time… He got out of the car and started following me, screaming that it wasn’t his fault and that the ‘fuckin’ Chinese girl’ he’d cut off before had caused him to do it…’it was her fault’… I yelled back at him “Yup, and I’m sure she’s stealing our jobs too!”  That’s when he told me I was ‘a fat cunt who should go on a diet.’…“Sorry??! Fuck YOU old man!” I shouted at him in the most condescending tone I could muster. Oh fuck, it was priceless. I could see he was starting to get all red and for a moment, I actually thought he might have a heart attack and drop dead! Mum and I laughed about it all afternoon. And just to prove a point, I left his details on the car he hit and later that afternoon, the lady owner called me up to tell me how sweet it was for me to do that and how she appreciated it.
She actually ended the phone call by saying “God Bless You…it gives me hope that there are still nice people left in the world…thankyou” Man, I almost teared up when she said that. For some reason, I really felt the emphasis in her voice when she said God Bless You… it was really striking and I felt like she genuinely meant it. It made me feel warm and fuzzy, and even though I don’t know if I believe in a God, it was sweet that she would share her God with me.
Anyway, point of the story is that it’s fun to give an old prick a piece of your mind. It’s without hesitation I award him Cunt O’ The Week.

PS. My eye hurts

So I finally bit the bullet and did something I didn’t think I’d do again… cut a fringe! And I’ll let you in on a little secret…I love it! Why did I wait so long to cut another fringe?! Oh, yeah that’s right…last time I had it done the woman butchered my hair and cut a fringe that would make baby Jesus cry if he were forced to look at it. But wow, my hairdresser did such a good job! I love it!
Wow, I just realised, I have a hairdresser…MY hairdresser! I’ve never had one of those before. I’ve always been the kind of girl who got her hair cut at places like Just Cuts…where they may as well make you take a number, like at the deli. Having “my hairdresser” makes me feel all womanly and grown up.

I’m glad I got a haircut. I’ve been feeling like shit for the last week or so since I wrote my last entry. I miss this guy heaps. I don’t wanna go on and on about it, but let’s just say it’s really made me feel pretty sad and lonely.  There’s so much I want to write but it would make no sense to anyone and it would only keep me awake at night, wondering if I should delete it.

So before I go ahead and make a total cock of myself with words, let me do it with photos.

  <—– I grew finger nails!!!!!!! I’ve been a biter since I was a kid! Yay me.