Archive for the ‘The Boys’ category

Its All About Tuesday – And That Would Be Today

October 17, 2006

So first up is a thankyou to the ONE person who offered advice on my problem. Min, your a legend. But it didnt help much. sigh.

Next is the news that even though the countdown on me leaving hospital reached 0 this morning, im still here. So I guess that will have to go to +1 now. Its a play-it-by-ear thing, so i guess that bit of doctor speak can be translated to “whenever your cash and your ability to obtain credit runs out”. sigh.

Finally, I got my balls out of storage, and not only attended, but spoke at Bear’s funeral today. I hope its the last one of those for quite some time. And so, I leave you with this pic, taken 2 weeks ago when the guys kidnapped me and took me to the beach.

Bear

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Its All About Tuesday

October 13, 2006

Tuesday is the estimate for the probing and poking to end. THANK FUCK. Lets hope that just this once the so called “proffessionals” are right.

Tuesday is also the day for Bear’s funeral.

Ive not yet decided if Im going. Cremations I find especially hard to attend, and Ive pretty much had my fill of funerals, and truth be told, in my current predicament death is not something I have much desire to face.

Smarter Than The Average…..& Never Late For Dinner

October 11, 2006

Bear

1964 -2006

I spent a long time at the computer last night. I wrote quite a lot. I was very proud of my work. It came both easily and with great difficulty. I was proud of what I had written, both for him and for me. And then it all dissappeared. So here I am again, and funnily enough, it feels alot like it did last night. I guess I needed to say more. I guess he wasnt quite done with hearing what I have to say. So this time it will be a different post, the last being a long list of his faults, the things others saw, followed by what was real. This time its more the story of what happened, and how things are now.

On Monday, Bear didnt show up to see me. I found this quite odd, but then again, he often goes off on a bender, so i was dissappointed but not alarmed. The boys all headed up on Tuesday evening for dinner, and although Bear hadnt replied to the text message inviting him (he never answers his fone, you cant riding a bike) he would never miss a free feed, and I expected him to be there. So when dinner was served and he still hadnt arrived, the conversation quickly turned to this surprising fact. It quickly became apparent that not one of the boys had heard from him in 2 days, and either had I. This being completely out of character, the meal was quickly abandoned and phone calls were made to search for him. I rang Dickhead who said his sms’ from the day before hadnt been answered either. The guys and I were worried, personally I was in near panic mode. I had felt uneasy about him not coming up for his daily visits to me in hospital. He has been my rock through this whole hospital malarky and some days was what kept me from packing up and going home.

One of my boys, Keefer, was out his way (Bear lived in the inner west) and headed straight for his place. No answer to his knocks on the door, no answer. Keefer enlistis Bears neighbour to help, and kicks in the front door, deciding that maybe theres some hint inside as to what the fuck is going on.

The phone call he makes to tell us what he found must have been a hard one to make. Its obvious Bears been there for a while, the syringe still in his arm.

Bear was a drunkard, a womaniser, a thug, a drug user, a brawler, a bastard, and a few screws loose. He was harsh, loud, brash, uncouth, rough and ready. Bad tempered and quick to fire up, he never backed down from a fight and was usually the one to start it. Easy to hate and hard to love, he played to win and cared little for collateral damage.

Whats his was his, and that was the end of the story a far as he was concerned. You scratched his bike parking your car? You wont have a car to come back to. You cheated him on a deal? He’d take or destroy everything you owned. You spoke ill of him? He’d break your jaw. However you hurt him or wronged him, he’d make sure you paid a hefty price. 

Bear didnt see his friends as other people, he saw them as his belongings. That might sound horrible to you, but it wasnt. Like I said, whats his was his, and he treated us like we were just an extention of himself. Someone hurt us, they hurt Bear. He protected us. Someone did good by us, they did good by Bear. Our friends were his friends. If Bear won at the races, or work was particularly profitable that week, we all shared in the bounty. (None of us are slackers, when weeks were bad we all pitched in and did more than what was needed).

New additions to our circle always commented that Bear seemed to have a special place in his heart for me. That it was like I was his little sister. He would protect me from harm, soothe my pains, and was vicious to those who wished ill on me. He would also scold me for my bad choices, forbid me to go places, see people, or do things he didnt approve. He was always “all up in my business”. He had a nose for sniffing me out, and would always know if I was hiding something from him. He had an uncanny ability to know exactly what I was doing, even when it was impossible for him to know. I wasnt his little sister though, it was more like I was his pet. A dear companion whose presence gladdened his heart, but who needed a strong hand to keep them in line as the sweet thing he saw when he looked at me. Many a time he’d grab me in his big arms, hold me tightly to his chest and ruffle my hair, shoving me aside when hed had enough sayin “gorn git” with a smile in his voice, and a hearty chuckle at the state of my hair and my useless attempts at protesting and remonstrations.

My boys are of the opinion im taking it hard. I can see why they say so. But at the same time im not sure. In fact, im not sure of much at all. This time its different. Theres a heavyness there that ive never felt before. The tears dont come. The pain is dull. Everythings dull. I find myslef lost in space, not thinking, not feeling, not even being, not that that makes sense. Its a heavy heart, a heavy mind, and a heavy soul that resides in me right now. And its a load I dont know how to lift.

Some will think it silly, and I wouldnt blame them, i dont even know how i feel about it myself, but culturally its significant. The significance stares me in the face, coming unbiddent to my thoughts, seemingly out of nowhere, but come it does, most incessantly. Its a significance I cant brush off.

This cancer carries death upon its back that seeks to take me has been thwarted by this treatment. Bear has kept a solid vigil by my side, and been the medics strongest advocate. On the day I receive news that death has indeed been cheated at least for now, death wheels around, furious, he takes his vengance on my champion. It is my fault. I have bad luck (not really the right word but fuck yas, it’ll have to do, its one of those things that doesnt translate). I have cheated and must pay the price, death must have its kill.

Why Am I Blogging Right Now?

October 9, 2006

Because I dont feel like facing people to say this, and I know it will get around fast enough by putting it here. Dickhead already knows, as does Min, both of these I told myself, them being the most important people to me right now (besides Bugalugs of course who doesnt need to know anything until it cant be avoided)

In less than an hour now, I will get results back from my specialist (you dont like me calling him that, YOU try spelling his title correctly). If the beefed up plan of attack isnt working, there isnt really much else to do. And Ive already decided that if this is the case, Im going home. Id rather spend what little time remains in my own freaking bed than here.

On the other hand, if it IS killing the little fuckers, then I will be staying here, and its the first time Im actually wanting to stay. Obviously. The issue then will become how much longer to continue. When is the point where theyve killed enough of the bad bits, yet left enough good ones alive to pick up the peices & start the rebuilding?

And of course, once that decision is made, its all crossing of fingers and toes that the good workers arent too fucked over by the new IR laws, and will put their backs into it and get this new development underway.

Mins reaction to this news was predictable.

Dickheads reaction was not.

Mine? I’ll wait till after I hear it & know what it is I have to react to.

But that call this morning would have been good, had I got it.

Oh yeah, a big bunch of good wishes are owed to Dickhead, who started the next phase of his business this morning. xoxo

Trying Very Hard To Post

October 5, 2006

But its hard. It isnt normally. As you can tell by the shithouse standard of writing displayed on this site, I usually sit down, log on & tap away for 5 – 10 minutes, and press ‘publish’. Its that simple. I really do use this blog to empty my head. And right now my head is a mess. I know, I know, it usually is. But now its more so. Its like Im in thick fog. I cant seem to focus. I cant concentrate. I cant manage a coherant train of thought. Its most disconcerting. Although friends will tell you I often dont make sense when Im speaking to them, I always make sense to myself. Not right now though. Half way through a sentence I get brain freeze and forget what I was saying. Its frustrating. At the moment things in here are not going so well. Therapy has been stepped up. Aparently me going all aggressive at the doctors saying I didnt want to stay in their poxy establishment until the end of time seems to have offended the sadistic little fuckers, and their getting me back, and how! Its painful, and its exhausting. Its stressful and makes me sick. I also spend hours and hours in bed, which is even worse because theres no playing up……. So a few brief notes on what im up to, hopefully it will inspire me to write properly later. If not, it will at least serve as a memory jogger. And if I know anything about anyone, a bit of a conversation starter too. Look out email account, its gunna get hot! *checks her phone batteries are charged* *********************************EDIT********************************* STUPID FUCKING RETARDED FUCKING WANKER FUCKING WORDPRESS FUCKING GREMLINS FUCKING ATE THE FUCKING REST OF MY FUCKING POST THE FUCKING FUCKERS!!!!!!!!!!

and im too frikken tired to redo it. i did it all too. properly even. and it was good. just for once. fucking fuck fuckers.

Friday (gotten around to posting on Monday – shaddup!)

October 2, 2006

Bugalugs finally got an award at school. Hooray!

Considering this is a kid who just a couple of months ago was about to be suspended (in KINDERGARTEN I tells ya, WTF?)

So at the beginning of the week I receieved a letter from his teacher inviting me to attend the school assembly to watch. I cant tell you how good it was to be asked to go up to the school for THAT instead of meetings with the principal!

So I asked my mum if she could make it. Apparently it just wasnt interesting enough, and her response was that she didnt think she could make it & would let me know. If I sound a bit bitchy here, perhaps its coz my mum lives about 8 houses from the school, doesnt work, and has no kids at home either. So please forgive me for being more than slightly pissed off that she needed to consult her busy schedule of daytime soapies for her only grandson.

I also called Dickhead, because I knew Bugalugs would like it, and his teacher had even mentioned that it would be good if Dickhead could make it, that it would mean alot to Bugalugs. I can only assume Bugalugs has been crapping on at school about him. Actually bugalugs is quite enamoured with Dickhead. Go figure. Dickhead not surprisingly said he couldnt make it – working. Sigh.

So Friday came around and I rearranged appointments and ran out of hospital. I visited a gf with her young baby at home whilst I waited for the assembly time to roll around (never one to waste an opportunity, me) & whilst there, Dickhead decided he was able to move things around enough to come up.

Well fuck me, hey!

Being as much like me as he is, and a typical leb, he just had to get everything out of it he could, and so I helped arrange for some shit to be done to one of his cars by the ever obliging Keefer. (MrB previously, but fuck it, Im using normal real life nicknames now. Im lazy, bite me.) Keefer of the “wholesale cost is $296. Nah, I can do better than that for ya!” See, no wonder Dickhead likes him.

So Dickhead collected me from Min’s place, and I drove his car to Keefer to feel whats wrong with it. God. Thats 2 cars of his that I dont like. At least this one isnt nicknamed “the bitch”. Well, it got that name for electrocuting me, the bitch! We dropped the car off, and Dickhead drove us to Bugalugs’ thing.

Poor bastard! No sooner did we get there, but the assembly was being held outdoors in the sun, and whos waving to us with seats saved? Thats right, my MUM.

Bwah hah hah hah hah!

Thats both my parents Dickhead has met now, and both have been unplanned. The poor thing! Of course having her waving at us I couldnt pretend we hadnt seen her, so over we went. Well he may be fasting and feeling crap, but it was me who kept falling asleep. What is it with sun and a seat, and a woman who despite having a speach in front of her has to use the word “um” every 3 words that sends you to nigh nigh land? Poor Dickhead had to keep poking me to wake me up!

Eventually after much other bullshit, Bugalugs got up to get his certificate, and his mum sure was proud. Just for once it wasnt me making a huge scene in public, but my mum who clapped and hollered even though we were meant to wait till the all the recipients were up there. Speculate all you want as to whether I was trying to remain composed somewhat like a normal human in Dickheads presence, but actually I was a bit upset that I just didnt have it in me. Otherwise the bogan westie holla back girl in me would have been on sho fo sho, mo fo’s!

Believe me, inside I was all whooping it up.

Afterwards Dickheads car wasnt ready yet, so we headed to the local shopping centre to waste some time until it was. And every few minutes I had to stop and rest. It was embarressing much. Usually we stop for him to rest his leg, but nup, this time it was all me. It was shocking. I can tell you he really knew I was ill when we walked into one of those discount perfume stores (he smells as good as I do – were a match made in sweet smelling heaven) and I lasted all of 30 secionds before having to walk straight back out. I couldnt breathe. It hurt. It was AWFUL. I coughed. I struggled for breath. I leant against the ballastrade trying to recompose myself. I ended up having to walk into the shop next door and dose up on my inhaler. I hid it from him, yes. I didnt want him to know just how completely fucked I was. The entire trip to the shops was exhausting me completely. I just didnt want to scare him, and I knew it wouldnt be long before Keefer rang to say his car was ready. Im not liking this ramadan thing. Again. Coffee dates make it so much easier to hide how ill I am.

Actually Im not so sure if thats true. I thought Id been hiding it well, but the last few coffee dates we had had he mentioned recently that he had seen me struggling to stand afterwards and get back to my car. I thought Id hidden it, but hed seen me have to sit back down again to get my breath, and make more than one stop on the short walk back to the carpark. It worries me that he sees this. I hate thinking that Im worrying him or scaring him. And in a way, not having people know means it doesnt feel anywhere near as real. So I dont have to deal. Not so much, anyway.

So standing there catching my breath, the bastard notices I have a grey hair. And pulls it out to show me. So much for me laughing at him for being old. Im 26, hes 35. When he doesnt shave, he has plenty of grey hairs in his beard. Hes got a few on his head too, but he keeps his hair cut so short its hard to notice. We have a standing joke about when I’ll have to dump him. Min and I discussed it, along with input from her 40yr old brother, and it was decided that when his balls are saggy, its time to go. No eviction party, just trade him in on a newer model. His response was that he just wouldnt let me play with them anymore so that they stayed in mint condition, but, well, what guy could ever stick to that, huh?

So after berating me about being 26 and having grey hairs….. and just what does he expect, im with him, arent i? And I hang around mostly guys. Of course being around men all the time is going to stress me! We collected his car, and off he went back to work. To which I promptly headed off to see Llama about a couple of things, forgetting about an appointment for treatment and sending the entire Honey Friend Clan into a tizzy. I got there in time. Just. All I can say is thank goodness I put it in my PDA with a reminder alarm! So I guess IM not so teknikmalogikally challenged after all?

So whats the moral to this story? I guess delinquent children still have goodness in them that others besides their mothers can see. Dickheads will sometimes pull out the stops and blow your mind. My mother is still completely fucked in the head & not to be trusted. School Assemblies are still boring. Perfume stores are not places to go if you like air. Keefer is the king of discounts & sourcing parts. And hospitals suck even more when your trying to get there in a hurry. But mostly, my son is a champion and I love him.

Go Bugalugs! w00t!! w00t!!

Bears Arent That Tough

September 28, 2006

Mine is actually pretty soft & cuddly under all those muscles and tattoos. Today I got more than one lovely compliment from him. Hes been a great friend through all this. (even if it DOES scare me a bit that he and Dickhead are becomming all chummy-chummy without me being privy to anything they say, AND despite the fact they are now ganging up on me and playing tag team – WHOLLY unfair guys!)

So today I was feeling a bit crap about how Im feeling and looking. I need a haircut, its a mess, and I cant do it properly in here, and even if I can, lying in bed gives you bed hair no matter how much product you use. My skin is awful (this from someone who was never a pimply teen, and never had a blemish, nor ever needed foundation – I am the envy of all my girlfriends). After every treatment I get bright red and splotchy. My skin has irritations and comes up in a bit of a rash sometimes too. It burns and itches, and is allover NOT SEXY. Im dry in some areas and oily in others. sigh. I’m a mess. And overly sensitive to just about everything. The concoction of drugs Im taking (and the stress) is making me moody. SERIOUSLY MOODY. PMS is nuttn on me, and pregnant hormonal women are in awe of my superior moodswings. Menopausal woman applaud me in the street. Its that bad. Which is great in that tiny things can make me happy as a pig in mud. But equally, when I feel bad, which is how I am far more frequently, it quickly turns into a bad depression. And lately, Ive had some serious issues with myself. Which is very unlike me, (ive usually got such a massive ego I need taking DOWN a couple of pegs) and has had friends quite concerned. So Bear took a photo or two (or more, who knows, hes a sneaky prick with that camera phone) and as I lost an argument, my punishment is putting it up here. I cant say Im that upset though, he was right. I dont look as bad to others as I do to myself right now. Im still me. I can still be me. I always will be me. And thats good to know.

Honey 280906

btw they are bruises on my chest, ive not gone all radioactive coloured for our amusement. their from dickhead last thursday. and shut up. it was fun at the time…………