Wah my life is so hard, wah.

I think the problem that I have with blogging - and honestly - the reason why I post so little these days, is that I feel as though it's more of a stage than a diary. I remember the days of livejournal, back when James and I would write 2-3 times a day sometimes in much the same fashion as I spam twitter nowadays. It was all stream of consciousness and it didn't matter if it didn't make THAT much sense because "it's my blog, if you don't like it don't read it".

I want this post to be a "you're not the boss of me now" style post, where I decide to post what I want because it IS my blog, but at the end of the day I'm a grown up now and my thoughts, feelings and opinions have more impact now than they ever did back then. Friends, family, loved ones who read this don't want to hear about my day to day struggles with my weight, or how INCREDIBLY CRANKY I am right now. Nobody wants to read about the mundane, in-between stuff, it's just not good blogging.

Anyway I'm not sure where I'm going with this except that I'm in a bad mood and I wish I had somewhere like I used to to express that. This is growing up.

xx. A.

Pregnant people suck [part 3294283443 of why I'm going to Hell].

Disclaimer: I think everyone sucks, pregnant people are just who pissed me off today. Apologies if that offends you.

Anyway.

Pregnant people piss me the fuck off [another reason I'm headed straight to Hell]. 

Cooking a small human inside you does not automatically make you more important than all the other big humans around you. If anything - the way I see it - it should indebt you to the big humans around you since we [the big humans] are the ones who will undoubtedly pay for your childcare reimbursements, your hospital stays and god knows what else via our taxes. When you or your kid gets sick, it's my tax money that will pay your "sick benefit" or whatever the hell it is that Centrelink recently introduced. On top of that - if you're the shitcunt that I imagine you are [and honestly I don't doubt that you are], it's my tax that will pay for EVERYTHING ELSE in your childs life since you probably wont bother to get a job, since now you have an excuse not to.

All that judgement aside, I have other legitimate [I feel] reasons to hate pregnant people. 

Last weekend I fell down and dislocated my knee + sprained my ankle [I don't believe in doing things in halves]. I had most of this week off work, but I did drag my ass in a few days because I'm a responsible motherfucker and I didn't want the people I work with to be screwed. On those days I dragged my ass in, I caught an express bus into the city and miraculously managed to get a seat. I WAS SO RELIEVED. I can barely stand and when I do it literally sends wave after wave radiating from my big toe to my hip.. it is INTENSE. 

Anyway I get two stops from where I got on and this woman who claimed to be pregnant but might have actually just been fat gets on, comes and stands infront of me and just STARES at me expectantly. I stared back for a moment, after which she raises her eyebrows and kind of.. flicks her gaze toward the aisle, you know what I mean, right? Bitch is literally DISMISSING me from 'her' seat, without saying A WORD. On top of that, I'm not even sitting in the "Priority Seating" area [aka where you're supposed to vacate for elderly, pregnant or disabled people].

I'm not even sure what to do at this point, like.. she is clearly out of line, right? I [gingerly because it FUCKING HURTS] get up and start to hobble out of the seat at which point she barges into me, shoving me onto the aisle where I almost fall down because I can't put weight on my left leg. 

I want to say that I said something or stood up for myself, and even right now I'm sitting here completely tempted to make something up about a snarky comment I made which ensured me a round of applause from the rest of the bus, but in honesty I just limped to the back of the bus and stood there, feeling blood trickle from where she'd opened some of the cuts on my knee, trying not to cry.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I fucking hate pregnant women. The sense of entitlement. The feeling that since she has so capably spread her legs and managed to procreate she is suddenly better than those of us who are not currently bearing the children of what can undoubtedly only be a toothless, rattail having, Woolworths shelf-packer who spends his days in singlet, shorts and flannies. 

Don't get me wrong all pregnant women aren't that bad, but even the pregnant women I LIKE give me the shits. Things like inviting me to a baby shower and expecting me to play stupid games that involve toilet paper, or ANY food housed in a babies nappy, or bedazzling or scrapbooking.. I mean, jesus christ, I'm getting a head ache already. 

ON TOP OF THAT. Everyone struggles to sleep! The fact that the reason you can't sleep is because your cum-fruit keeps kicking you in the rib doesn't make you any more entitled to a nap in the lunch room than me, who didn't sleep because I had some insane Mexican food last night. 

Anyway, I could keep going because GOT DAMN do I hate pregnant people, but I feel as though I'm already likely to wake up tomorrow morning to a million pregnant pension mums bearing pitchforks and screaming for my blood.

Instead, I'm going to go enjoy a nice cold vodka. Which I can do. Because there is no cum-goblin in my womb. Score!

xx. A.  

Religious Holidays, chocolate, and I'm going to Hell.

I'm the first person to admit that if there IS a hell, I'll be working on my tan down there, hanging with Hitler, chillin' with Caesar.. I'm sure there'll be heaps of interesting people and where there's people there's food and goddamn do I love me a good buffet. 

I do lots of things that would earn me my room down there. I'm 25, unmarried and living with two guys. The last time I saw the inside of a church was one that had been refurbished into a Pancake Manor. I spend hours on my appearance every week. I have a massive online presence and am incredibly self aware. I don't donate to charity as often as I could or should. The list goes on and on.. However, I feel like the absolute coup de grace has to do with religious holidays and the way I choose to celebrate them. As such -- for ease of access [assuming the G man exists and wants a bit of a cheat sheet] -- I figured I'd share with my audience the way I celebrate the [few] religious holidays I even know about.

1. Easter [and thus inspiration for this post]. Easter has something to do with Jesus becoming a Zombie in a cave as far as I know and as far as I know there wasn't ANY chocolate involved [Zombies eat brains not bunnies, duh] and yet my method of celebrating this holiday is by gorging myself on Cadbury Creme Eggs and eating bunnies ears-first. Depending on the year I'll also add in a generous sleep in [not this year though, Top 100 Songs of the 90s!!].. which I feel MIGHT redeem me, since before Jesus apparently became a Zombie he was dead.. and death is kinda like sleeping.. right? Winner?

2. Christmas. I know a little bit more about the religious side of Christmas but I'd be lying if I said 90% of my knowledge didn't come from Christmas Carols I heard The Wiggles singing during Carols in the Domain. So apparently, baby Jesus was born in a stable because Mary and Joseph didn't book ahead and just expected there to be a room available on Christmas Eve. I mean, really? Anyway, some old dudes came and gave some super weird gifts [what the hell even IS Merr?], a little drummer boy played his drum [which I don't understand EITHER because every baby I've ever met has been super sensitive to noise, not to mention new mothers who are a whole nother species as far as I can tell].. and yeah, that's about it.

As far as I can tell we're supposed to go to Church Christmas Eve [or that's what was happening in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, anyway..], then again Christmas morning, and then again later in the day.  We're supposed to pray and eat bread and sing songs and spend time with family.

Now, what ACTUALLY happens is that I spend months leading up to Christmas spending money I can't really afford on presents, gift wrapping them for vanity sake, planning my outfit and makeup [also for vanity sake]. I watch Carols in the Domain Christmas Eve [which I guess is kinda like Church so maybe a winner there], I wake up and eat bacon and eggs and then open/give presents. Once I've made a huge mess of the living room, I take a nap til lunch when I wake up, gorge myself some more, get drunk and .. honestly the rest of every Christmas since I was 18 is a blur so I'm not sure what happens after that point.

Welp.

I just spent 10 minutes sitting here trying to think of another religious holiday and while I'm sure they exist I can't remember any, so lets just say that if there ARE any I probably abuse them in much the same manner as the above.

In conclusion, assuming there is a G-man, and a Hell. I'd like a room with a view, and if possible I'd prefer not to have to share with anyone. Thanks in advance!

xx. A.

10 Reasons Why I Hate Facebook.

Disclaimer: Please don't get offended if you commit any of the crimes 1-10 and are on my friends list. The majority of these things only annoy me if I'm already in a bad mood [which, granted, happens a lot... lol] and really it's not up to you or anyone else to censor yourself on your own Facebook. This is just a bit of a rant to help me stay sane.. :P

Anyway, without further ado:

10 reasons I freaking abhor Facebook:

1.  The millions and zillions of updates by my cousins/younger people on my friends list/people in general who seem to have nothing better to do that are simply them "liking" things like -- "Like this status if your name starts with A, C, D, E, F, G, K, L, N, O, P, V, W, X, Y, Z" or "I hate that I love you", or something equally as stupid/frustrating.

2.  The updates by new parents/not working parents who seem to think everyone on their friends list cares that their child has pooped 3 times, today.

3. Invites to causes like "Stop Child Abuse in Australia". Don't get me wrong, child abuse disgusts me but HOW THE FORK does me joining a group on Facebook do anything but spam and annoy the people on my friends list?

4. The emo status updates that go down like this: "I'm so sad and lonely, goddamn, nobody loves me. Comment or text me if you actually give a damn about me." I'm sorry, but even if I DID give a damn if you killed yourself [I don't] I wouldn't text or comment you except maybe to call you a sad, stupid little girl/boy. Blatant attention seeking like this leads me to believe that you need to be slapped, not rewarded. It'd be like patting a dog after it peed on my bed. I'm sorry you're sad, really I am - we've all been there - but things like "comment or text if you actually give a damn about me"? Damn, girl.. you need to be less of a Stephen King psychopath.

5. While we're on the topic of emo status updates, anything talking about how bad your life is. I'm sorry, but when you're healthy, employed/going to school, living at home with practically no expenses whatsoever -- your life is awesome and you need to grow the fork up and stop being such a spoilt, unappreciative brat. Don't get me wrong, I've made my fair share of emo posts in my time but I've also had Cancer.. so I think my emo was well deserved.

6. Any photo with poorly photoshopped motos/sayings/lyrics on them. I'm sorry but really, people? And if you absolutely MUST do it, for the love of god at least get the your/you're or their/there/they're you're using right! FFS!

7. Mass Messages. I do not give a damn what the reason for it is, I don't want it. I don't care if I could win $1,000,000.00 from reading it, it isn't worth the next 5 weeks of facebook notifications that are simply stupid people replying saying "oh that's great, btw how are you?" or something along those lines that I frankly don't give a flying fork about.

8. "Secret" statuses. I don't care what colour your bra is, where you keep your bag or what your relationship status is. And by the way NOBODY ELSE DOES, EITHER. Posting the colour of your bra doesn't raise breast cancer awareness - it just makes you sound like a slut. Telling us where your bag is doesn't .. do whatever it was supposed to do.. it just makes you SOUND like a slut. And putting a random alcoholic beverage in your status to symbolise your relationship status is equally as stupid -- for one thing, we can SEE your relationship status in the details of your profile.. and for two, what does an alcoholic beverage of ANY kind have to do with ANYONES relationship status unless being-a-drunk-whore-and-going-home-with-anyone-who'll-have-you is included in there, as a nice little heads up to the guys on your facebook friends list. Seriously!

9. The awkwardness when someone you don't like/is friends with a friend of yours/your parents/brothers/whatever but you don't really KNOW them, adds you. I feel super bad saying no to the request but at the same time I don't actually give a damn about them and now I'm going to have to listen to them do things-I-hate 1-8 everyday, over and over..

10. The fact that facebook is freaking addictive. I could get rid of all the above annoyances if I just left facebook or deleted the people who commit crimes 1-9... but I'm so curious! I'd rather know about the evil than leave and wonder.. it's like a train wreck.. it's horrible and gory and people are screaming and dying all over the place, but I can't.. look.. . away. GAH.


xx. A.

Inspiration from odd places.

I've been sick for about a week now [on top of being sick, that is]. It's just a cold -- I'm not going to die from it or anything -- but it definitely feels like it. My immune system is so fried from my treatment that adding anything on top just.. isn't fair. I'm exhausted - even more tired than I ever thought possible, my nose runs like a kitchen faucet, my eyes and head hurt all the time and it feels as though my brain is too big for my skull [which we KNOW isn't true. haha], I ache everywhere just in general.. and yeah.. =]! Fun times! In good news I'm starting to feel a bit better so hopefully next week won't suck quite so bad.

Given my sickness, I've been spending a lot of time in bed catching up on TV shows [I have a habit of going weeks without watching and then having like 5 episodes of 6 different shows to watch], watching movies I got months ago and never quite got around to viewing, and playing my fair share of video games. I've also finished my second audiobook and I'm onto The Return of the King! Tolkien is a god.

My god I can get distracted -- ANYWAY -- I was watching an episode of How I Met Your Mother in which one of the characters has had a messy break up and the rest of the gang are trying to get her to delete the Ex's number from her phone. During this conversation/arguement they're all faced with numbers/peoples/memories they've kept in their phones for long past their due date and all, eventually, more or less move past it.

I felt an odd connection to this episode and I watched it twice [which anyone who knows me will tell you is strange, I very rarely watch even a movie more than once, much less TV shows] to try figure out why. At the end of the episode - reluctantly - I opened my phone contacts list and just.. started deleting. I went from a phone book of 74 contacts to just over 20 [and this includes a large quantity of doctors, different areas of the hospital, etc so I don't have to be constantly transferred around]. It shocked me once I was done and I was very careful not to stop and count how many were left until I got to the Z's incase I chickened out and had a half-clean half-terrible phonebook.

It's funny, but there were people in there I literally haven't spoken to in years - for so long that they've moved house/state/COUNTRY EVEN and I don't even know if that number is still their number - and yet I kept it 'just in case'. I'm talking ex boyfriends, old real estate agencies, taxi numbers for 2 different states and 4 different towns [lol!], 'friends' who I'd rather die than speak to again.. the list goes on and on. There were even a few in there listed as "Firstname, PubIMetThemAt". I've never, ever called these people or spoken to them again after the night I met them but some of those numbers have been in my contact list for long enough that they transferred phones when I got my current phone TWO YEARS AGO.

I feel so liberated! It's so fantastic to open my phone book to call someone and only have to scroll to the letter their name is listed under, not then have to search through a myriad of people I can barely remember to find the person I actually want to speak to. I highly recommend it! I'm sure I've deleted numbers I'll use again but I figure that's what google or yellowpages is for and the only other problem I can foresee is that now the people whose numbers I kept specifically to avoid the calls of [cringe!!] are free to harrass me once more.. I figure that's easily solved by letting private numbers or numbers I don't have listed go to voicemail, though.

In summary, I felt very inspired and even though I feel like warmed up poop I still feel inspired. =] I can't wait to feel better so my brain can be less mushy and I can get back on track with Project: Writers [Un]Block and my various other blog projects. On a side note - please don't get offended if your calls go to voice mail - mass deletion will always have one or two numbers go by accident and it's easy enough to fix. <3 <3

xx. A.

Confession.

I'm always so amused by peoples stupid little problems. I just find it BEYOND hilarious some of the things people get upset about, or involved in. And what's more amusing is that they seem to think I should care about it, because I continue to hear about it, again and again. And I can feel that they expect me to give them some kind of sympathy, or comforting words, and you know what? I really cannot be bothered.

The world sucks, get used to it. If the worst problem you have right now is that he wont love you back, or your best friend is moving to another state, or that you can't afford to go out this weekend.. well, you've got it pretty damned easy and you should shut the fuck up and stop complaining to people with real issues.

My two cents.

xx. A.

How it is.

So here's the deal -- I have cancer.

I'm not writing this blog for sympathy or to make a 'connection' with other 'survivors' or whatever the fuck, I'm writing because if I don't I'm going to kill someone. And hey, I might kill someone anyway so I guess we'll see.

I was diagnosed on Tuesday the 31st of August. First stage Cervical Cancer.. which honestly, if you have to have cancer, I guess this is the one you want to get. Entirely treatable through the most non-invasive methods available, and the survival and recovery rates are really quite high. I guess those facts didn't really sink in as the Doctor told me though because all I could hear was this white noise hissing in my ears and my head felt fuzzy like it was full of cotton balls or something. I was going through the motions but I felt like I was just looking down on a me-puppet from very far away, watching her make decisions and nod and seem to understand what the guy in the white jacket was telling her.

I don't handle emotions very well (obviously) so I hung onto it for a while and just kind of let puppet-me continue to go to work and carry on with life until I eventually got the balls to call my parents. They've been divorced for a few years now, so I had to tell them seperately, and honestly I think the hardest thing I've ever done was tell my dad. My mum has had cancer before so I knew it wasn't going to be a big thing to tell her -- she would know I'd come out on the other side okay and there'd be no crying or fuss. My dad though, he's the kind of person who is built to be a father -- he cares very deeply and he takes responsibility for everything. It nearly broke me to tell him. I felt like - by getting sick - I'd let him down. I guess in a way I still feel like that.

The next few days were a mess of phone calls, telling people who I hadn't spoken to for months but who -- apparently -- needed to know from me because it would be rude if they found out from someone else. It never got easier, "Oh hi, yah it's me. How've you been? ... oh that's good, good.. me? Oh, you know, working hard -- got a promotion at work a month or so ago so it's been crazy. Oh and you know what else! I have cancer! Craziest thing!" ... yeah.

Honestly that's something I find I'm still doing. Telling people because I feel like I'm obligated to, or pretending I'm okay on days when I'm really not, just because it would make people uncomfortable if I told the truth when they asked - uncaringly - "How are you?".

That's something that really gets to me, you know? Don't ask if you don't want a real answer. I am so angry and full of rage at the moment. I hurt. I'm nauseous. I'm tired. I really and truly do not have a single socially required "Fine thanks!" left in me and I really don't see why I should have to continue to offer them.

So anyway I guess I'll cut that post off here. Maybe I'll continue to recount what happened from then or maybe I'll just use this as a place to bitch or post about video games. Or maybe I just won't even bother posting at all, again. We'll see, I suppose.

xx. A.