tristianmakhai

Life.

I believe that there shouldn't be one thing or the other that you are passionate about but that you should approach everything in your life with passion. That you should always feel strongly about the things you do, that you should care, and you should throw this enthusiasm into life and living. I believe in being passionate about your work, about your play, about your family and friends. I believe in being passionate about your partner and your parents and your kids. I believe you should be passionate about your sports and hobbies. I believe in being passionate about the day job and your past times you *wish* were your job. I believe in being passionate about reading and writing, even if it is just the newspaper or correspondence. I believe that if we cared and we were more passionate about life, we'd stop settling and letting things slide, that we would hold ourselves and others to higher standards.

The short, honest answer is that I am passionate about everything. If I don't seem immediately passionate about it, chances are it's a defence mechanism to put a distance between myself and a battle I don't think I can take on at that immediate moment. But don't think that I don't care, don't think that these things don't matter to me. I have an intensely passionate nature and that passion goes into everything I do and am, if I seem apathetic, it's because I know I can't risk getting into another crusade, fighting another battle because sometimes, it's too much.

Most passionate though? Life. Live it. Love it. NEVER give up and always keep pushing. Never settle, always strive for more. *Be* happy. Life is to be experienced and enjoyed, not endured or survived. At the end of it, Life should be the exhausted one with wide eyes and the 'Whoa! What the hell was that?!' expression. Be who you are who you want to be. Be secure in that knowledge and love yourself for when you do, you can finally love those around you. You can love your life as you make it into something you desire.

My passion? Life and everything in it.

Bet you thought I'd say 'writing' didn't ya? Well, that's a given, but writing is so much a part of life, that it's all the same thing, really.

[sigh] I am getting the sneaking suspicion I may possibly've found an indicator as to something that gives me hay fever/allergic attacks of epic sneezing. Possibly. Though, this doesn't really support my random sneezing attacks when I walked across the city on my way to work when I was working in South Perth. Unless I'd had something that morning for brekky.

Thing is, I don't know enough about allergies to know if sneezing and sinus congestion is a typical reaction, or if that's just the Hollywood version of an allergy.

Last couple of days, I've had one of my wheat beers -a Redback- when I get home/am fiddling about with the story, and the last couple of days, I've actually been really good about taking my hay fever tablets. Yet, despite being obedient, I've been sneezing my damn head off left right and centre. So, now, I'm wondering if there is some sort of link. Also, because if my memory isn't too fucked, I've had this allergy/hay fever for the last couple of years. Noticed it really two years ago, as in I was at work at T&C and realised one day I was sneezing a lot.

It continued on through working at Dome and Coles, and is a pretty frequent thing for me these days. I also actually only started having anything beyond the very infrequent drink, roughly about that time as well. Don't drink heavily, but I didn't start actually have a drink more often than once in a blue moon until the last couple of years.

And, as I've begun to wonder between yesterday and today, so far, this is the *only* real thing that has come to mind that's been different between the random beginning of this stupid allergy thing. The only other thing I could really think of would be an introduced species of plant in the area, which is then going to be a case of I'll never know what causes this. Beyond that, dietary habits haven't changed -I generally behave- I live in the same area as I have for the last eight years, and really, aside from working full-time, there was no distinct difference before the sneezing and the after.

Now, saying that, I don't drink every day, not by any means, and it can be weeks between one drink or the next. It's a social thing, or a 'it's a fucking hot day and an ice cold beer sounds *BRILLIANT*' thing. And in between those times, I still sneeze like all fuck. But. I'm now wondering if there's not something in the beer that is in other things in my diet that are irritating me or that I am allergic to, and with it being a wheat-based beer...well, it might be something in the brew.

Something to think about though, and if I notice this develop into a distinct pattern, it gives me a little more direction if I do decide to finally go to an allergist to find out what the hell is causing this sneezing crap.

Victory!

Well, initial victory. I have the foundation and rough version of the damn story down, and now just need to go back through, edit, expand, flesh out, polish up, and in general, 'make it pretty' after which it will be fired off to the beta. Hollie has duly informed me that I am being an idiot and that it doesn't entirely suck, but then, I wonder if she could ever say a harsh word to anyone. [grins] But, her words relieve me and will hopefully let me let go of the 'Oh god this is rubbish!' suffocation thing going on.

I've decided to leave it alone for a night, and probably tomorrow as I'm having lunch with mum. Then, tomorrow when I get home, I'm going to take a crack at it and start on the editing/expanding. I figure it's always best to have a little time between the writing and then the editing. Not quite the same as fresh eyes, but then I'm not quite so immediately close and can see better what I write instead of what I *think* I wrote. Once I'm happy enough with that, I'll see about firing it off to the wonderful geekgrrl and see if she thinks it's not the worst thing she's read this year. [grins] Kinda expecting that. :p

But, the good news is, I did it! ...with like an hour to spare...if you ignore the act that the actual work is done *after* the deadline. [facepalm] deadline!fail?

Well, just four joins of text to manage, and then the polishing on that damn story, and I *might* have something ready. The only problem is I'm half convinced it's rubbish. It feels too 'written' if you know what I mean. I'm going to have to find someone to give it a read through, and tell me just how bad it really is.

If you'd like to be brilliant and risk a possibly bad story, it's Nikki and Nora with a mildly smuttish rating. Dunno how graphic it really is, but mostly I need someone to read through it, tell me where the rough spots are and be willing to field questions like 'How do I fix it?' Really, more than anything, it's a case of reading it and telling me what you reckon on it. If you're willing, please give me a shout.

Time to sleep for a little bit.

Oh, looks as though my schedule for both this week and next shall remain late shifts. On the one hand, that means staying up stupidly late and not paying for it, however it also means some pretty craptasticly boring shifts. Meh.

So, I have ten minutes give or take before I have to wander on out the door for a pansy assed short shift, so what do I do? Do I try and scribble a few more words on the reluctant scene of irritation? Noooo, I listen to Rotersand and play on my LJ. And send an email or two regarding said EPITA story. Which, btw, no title for. Shit. Gonna need a title. Mind, I need to finish it more than I need a title. Bah.

A few months ago, Hollie verbally pounced upon me and informed me thusly that there was a book out I needed to get my greedy paws upon. Generally, I am not a fan of fan-oriented books and don't pick them up all that often, namely as they are freaking expensive. This one, however, she was very insistent that I get a hold of, especially when she explained that as she read it, it kept reminding her of me and the way that I write. Admittedly, The Writers Tale is *not* a typical fan-intended book, and really, if you're reading it for the Dr Who content...well, you'll be enthralled, amused, and utterly amazed at the evolution of the forth series.

The draw and attraction of the book however is what it really is. The Writer's Tale is a year long corrispondance between head writer and show runner of the brilliant BBC series, Russell T. Davies, and Benjamin Cook, a young journalist interested not only in all things Who, but in the craft itself. Cook manages to do what few others really bother to do, he gets a writer to talk about the other side of the art, about the writing, not about the mechanics and the how-to's but about the things that go on inside a writer's head. Through casual, relaxed emails (and SMS), he asks some thought-provoking (and silly) questions and gives Russell the time and space to explore the murky goings on of the writer's brain -something that *never* switches off.

To say I am utterly enthralled and in love with this book is an understatement. Hollie was dead on right when she said it reminded her of me, because I find myself continually astounded and in absolute awe that I am not alone in the chaotic, insane, and utterly disastrous way that I write. I wouldn't say that I write like Davies (oh, now that's a talent to aspire to), but he makes several statements and observations about his own experiences that parallel and echo my own.

You can expect excerpts and quotes from this book, because really, The Writer's Tale is one HELL of a fascinating look at writer beyond the technical features and words used.

Now! Off to work!

[whimper]

Knee-cap, meet Bedpost. Bedpost, meet knee-cap.

[whimper]

Ugh. I really seem to be failing at this whole 'meet the deadline' thing for story writing. It is now the 28th and could I tell you what story I have to be sending in in two days time? Nooooo. That's right, I don't even know WHAT I'm trying to write. [facepalm]

It's a good thing I have no work tomorrow and don't start until 4 on Monday as it means that I can actually stay up to stupid hours of the night. Mind, might need caffeine. Though, I dunno what writing I might manage to night as it is the 28th and that means I'm havin' Cajun tonight! Yes'iree, Sophia and Lester are putting n a five or so course feed of everything brilliant about New Orleans and you can bet the family and I will be there with bells on. Well, maybe not bells, but definitely ready for several helpings of cornbread. Oh dear god, the corn bread. And the fried chicken. I don't normally like it, but Lester's? Fuck, it's worth killing for. And OKRA!

Needless to say, I am going to be one stuffed kitty tonight, but maybe I might get lucky and get some Nola style inspiration. Dunno. Not worried too much as really my attention is on tonight. No, everything does not come down to food, but this IS New Orleans, and when the restaurant was operating, was the best in Perth. Hell, it kicked the Swagat Tandoori in Galashiels, Scotland as my favourite restaurant in the world.


In other...fascinations/amusements, I have discovered something. I first got a glimpse at it a few months ago when my sister went all batshit crazy insane at me (oi. You did. It was out of the blue and left me going WTF), but with Angie and Demos here, we're really seeing it in full bore. If you hail from there, don't take this the wrong way, but I never realised Americans (ie, USians) are swearing prudes! Seriously. They get so damn offended with our Aussie habit of using swear words in everyday settings, very frequently, very smoothly, and without any particular mind of it. Here is a following conversation:

Mum: "How the fuck are ya?!"
Stoney: "I'm fucking marvelous, Darl."
Mum: "That's fucking fantastic to hear."

Granted, that was Mum and Stoney being terrors, but Stoney does use 'fuck' a bloody hell of a lot. Seriously, this man does leave me in a bit of awe at just how often he can so smoothly slip a 'fuck' into a sentence that many times, and make you none the wiser until you stop, blink, and go 'whoa!'. The Australians just have this way of having 'fuck' be about every third or fourth word in a sentence, yet still avoid repetitiveness.

I don't know if any other cultural groups do this, or if it is just the Aussies. Was talking to a Kiwi at work and she said her mum (who she'd been back to visit very recently) commented that she swears a lot more often these days. And then there was the way the English got so damn up in arms over our advertising slogan of 'Where the bloody hell are ya?' So pissed off they got, I tell ya. It's like...'dude, chill the fuck out, it's just common greeting.' And then we realise of course using the phrase 'chill the fuck out' probably *didn't* help, but knowing our horrible sense of humour, get even more amused by this.

Yes, we *do* like twisting people's tale. It's called 'taking the piss' and it's an Aussie favourite past time. But of course it would also have to feature swearing in the description. [grins wickedly]

So yeah. Never really truly realised it, though I knew my language *was* getting a bit...profane, I blamed it on the working the Produce thing as, well, when you start out working with Aussie Wog boys, you learn to swear. And then when you catch your fingers (or nipples) you REALLY fucking swear. You swear so much, you don't even realise you are doing it. But now I wonder, is it the jobs I've been working (bouncing between produce and kitchens), or is it more of the Australian culture I've picked up?

Mmm. So, I apologise/warn you all now, if you end up on the phone with me or in person, I do swear, an awful lot. Writing, I'm not so bad as I can censor it more, but when it's coming out of my mouth...yeah, not a lot of hope there. I'll grin sheepishly, maybe slap my forehead and say "Fuck..oops. Aw, hell. Fuck, not agai...Damnit, I give up."


EDIT: Oh! Dude. I need to find an image of Dory from Nemo, and alter the text from 'Keep on swimming, swimming, swimming' and replace swimming with swearing. Well, it was set in Aus, and Dory amuses me. Mind, best line is the escape/escape. Heh.

The first seven years that we've spent in Australia, my mum, brother, and I haven't really celebrated US Thanksgiving. Mum is more Canadian, anyway, and chooses to celebrate in October, and growing up, we usually had both. It wasn't about forgetting the old life in the country we used to live in, but more, well, the first couple years we were here, we did it very tough. I don't think I've detailed our experiences with Australian Immigration and the clusterfuck that was on this journal, but to put things succinctly, we spent about six years fighting to not be booted out of the country. Fun and games, really.

That, and the desire to assimilate into Australian culture lead the push to celebrate the Aussie holidays, and honestly, the Yank ones don't translate so well to these guys over here. And, have you ever tried to get a turkey in Aus that isn't pygmy sized or going to cost you an arm and a leg? Or the yams? Okay, Sweet Potato will do in a pinch, but they are not the same. And then, have you tried cooking on the freaking hot days the end of November generally are? Yeah, not all of it really conductive to going all out. And then there was the simple fact that for the first number of years, it's been just the four of us. Karl's mother and Step-father did Christmas (a bland vegetarian Christmas at that. Oh yay, lentils. Not even tofu. I'da killed for tofu!), but honestly, it wasn't the same.

Thanksgiving has usually been a day about friends and family and just getting together and celebrating the good things in your life. Okay, bills might be hovering over the horizon, you have no idea how to pay for all the Christmas gifts, and if you're a normal family, the holidays are fraught with tension and stressing and the general insanity that related humans cause in each other. But it's about surrounding yourself with all of them and realising that these are the people you love, that have your back when it really counts and who you *really* have to be thankful for. It's very hard to celebrate this day when it's four of you against an entire country when you used to remember a full house every year with laughter, stress, and the crazy that is my family. So, we just...let the day go on by.

This year though, we've had visitors. Yeah, more Americans, and let me tell you, I don't think mum is going to have Americans at her house again. [laughs] Saying that, it's only one of them that's driving her insane. My foster/adopted (sans actual legal paperwork) sister Angie has come down to visit, bring her oh so very American husband. Okay, Angie *is* American, but she's Alaskan, and I will tell you now, the government may've bought the frozen hunk of muskeg, but Alaskans are the strangest snap-frozen Yanks you'll find. Much more Canadian...or Russian, depending on the village. :p

Anyway, mum thought that we'd treat them to a Thanksgiving with an Aussie twist, meaning of course, that everything is on the barbeque (half way to a charcoal), five kilo's of prawns, and a pavlova that looks like something the dog yacked up. Thankfully, they taste better then they look (I'm told). However, there is another reason we chose to actually celebrate the day.


A year ago was Wednesday the 26th of November, when at 20 to one in the afternoon, my brother was hit by a car. For forty-eight hours, we waited and watched while the chronic over-crowding in Perth's burdened hospitals meant that Iain had to lay there, his face gashed open, for his turn to get stitched up. Wednesday was very easily the worst day of my life, and Thursday not a lot better. Friday finally brought relief when they finally got him in for surgery.

The honest to God truth is, we could've very easily lost him. The way the windshield wiper blade cut across his neck could've been lethal but for a centimetre or two and as much as an epic pain in the ass as my younger brother can be, I don't even want to imagine a world without him. We may have our ups and our downs, but I adore and love my baby brother like little else in the world.

So, when we realised that one year to the day of the accident was going to be Thanksgiving, we (namely mum and I as it took the boy up until the last two weeks to realise the significance of the date) knew we needed to mark the day. We've survived the year, and more than that, we've *lived.* 2008 was a pretty shit year all around for most of us, though it did bring us our Permanent Residency in Australia. 2009, however, with a month left to go (that admittedly, could be a bitch and punk out on us) has been so much better.

Iain...he's continued to amaze me with the way he recovered from everything and I am *extremely* glad my initial fears regarding his scarring have been proved wrong. It's not so much that he's not phased by them, but more that he has so completely incorporated his scars into his persona, you barely see them. He's not conscious of them, jokes freely, and as a friend told him recently after the accident, he's made them work for him, made himself all the more dashing for the scars.

What I am most thankful for this year, and shall be for every year afterwards is that Iain is still with us, intact and healing. I am thankful that I have my family around me and that I am in a wonderful country. I am thankful for my life and the chances that I've been given to become who I am. Most of all, I'm thankful that I still have my brother.

Gillian

Oh, and just to highlight the absurdity of the situation, I forgot to mention something on Monday. Iain visited another hospital ER Monday evening/night due to heat stress at work.

This is going to sound kind of bad, but the common reaction was either chuckling or shaking of the head, frequently both. Yes, we are all that used to it, the initial reaction is to find the irony and humour in the situation.

Long story short is he was still up when I got up to go to work (round about six), drinks too many energy drinks that dehydrate him, and then probably didn't drink enough water to be working in the furnace that he is. He's fine, just felt like hell, and was discharged later that night. Work was being cautious and called the ambos in just to make sure he was fine.

[sigh] And he STILL hasn't gone and got medical insurance. The really stupid part is, we invited him to come with us when mum and I signed up, and in the time that I've had private health coverage, he's visited ERs six times, and I've not used my HBF once.

It's rather sad though that I actually forgot to mention news like my brother going into hospital, but I think we are that old hat at it, we barely blink anymore.

A little late to the party (as usual, a McKay is NEVER on time), but I've gone and done it again Yup, it's that time of year again for the FemSlash Advent Calendar and yours truly has just put their hand up to get their ass kicked if they miss another deadline. Which, considering just how badly I crashed and burned on the previous one? [winces]

No idea if I can get a full story written by the 30th, but it's only a minimum of 1000 words, which is a piece of cake...when I'm writing. It's the stopping part.

If you are interested then head on over to

http://community.livejournal.com/dogged_by_muses/124767.html

to sign up and play along. The more the merrier, and the more goodies to open through December. C'mon, it's only a thousand words. That's a couple pages, max. You can do it. ^^

Today I am thankful for a well written story. Well, I always am thankful to have the pleasure to read the stories that I do, but even more grateful to call a couple of these talented people friends.

Cosmic irony: Thanksgiving falling on the 26th of November.

For the last week and a half, I get off at McIver train station and walk to work, my path taking me through Royal Perth Hospital. It's the quickest and most direct path through to Victoria Square and then to work. It's a walk that takes me less than five minutes to get to the other side, but it's a walk that some times, takes so much more.

Ganked from the Evil Step Mother over on Facebook. I know, so much easier as I'm only starting it up now. :p But eh. I still thought it looked interesting enough.

Every day this month until Thanksgiving, think of one thing that you are thankful for and post it as your status. "Today I am thankful for..." The longer you do it, the harder it gets! Now, if you think you can do it, then repost this message as your status to invite others to take the challenge, then post what YOU are thankful for today.

From my facebook: 'Today, I am thankful for 'today.' I'm thankful for the way that my life has turned out. I never could've predicted that I'd be living where I am, doing what I am, loving my life and finally being comfortable in my own skin. But I am, and for that, I will eternally be thankful.'


And this is the truth. I honestly can say that I am happy, I am content within myself, I do enjoy my life, and I find myself smiling to myself when ever I damn well feel like it. Life is good and I still have those random moments where I pause, look around, and boggle at the fact that I live in bloody Australia. Do you have any idea how far away and alien that seemed to me as a kid? Aus was like another world away from Alaska, like a place you read about and see in the movies, but doesn't really exist. It's just...unpredictable, this life of mine, and despite some of the downs, the ups have more than compensated for it.

It seems as though I am working on gaining myself a new nickname. Actually, there is no 'working on it', I've done it.

Evidently, I was channelling Dexter Monday night over the course of dinner and talking with Shannie, at least from a couple of her comments. Turns out, I've managed a couple of the expressions and had her wondering when I was going to break out the sociopath tendencies. Mind, we both adore the show and character.

Well, it gets better. Yesterday, at work, I managed to make it look as though I'd slaughtered someone in the cool room. I was covered in crimson, the floor and containers had splatter everywhere, and I still have to clean my shoes and soak the red out of my shirt. Tone had a look around and commented 'it looks like you killed someone in there, and when I looked down at both myself and the coolroom, yeah, it did look suspiciously like blood spatter. Never would've thought napolitana sauce or crushed Tomatoes did, but oh yeah.

Thus, Shannie is dubbing me Morgan. [shakes head]

I'd gone in to look for more berries, shifted a stack of containers, and because some dickhead put the heaviest, fullest one (ie, the nap sauce) on the top of the stack and mostly empty ones on the bottom, guess which of the stack fell over. I had Roast slice capsicum, snow peas, and nap sauce *EVERYWHERE*. Especially over me. In fact, it's a good thing it fell on me, as it meant there was less on the floor. However, that also meant that I then worked for the rest of the day still mostly covered in the crud.


I swear to god, I work at the gayest place in Perth. Seriously, I actually had to ask Shannie if anyone in that damn place is straight. Admittedly, there are more than a couple, however, the overwhelming attitude is very, very queer. It amuses me endlessly. And throws me every now and then when one of the assistant managers wanders in and proclaims 'That girl is so hot' and she's not the one that is dating the manager. That's the kitchen supervisor. [rubs forehead]

And all of this brings me to one thing that completely boggles my mind. Normally, when you get more than one gay woman in a mile radius, Drama transpires. In a big, chaotic, and generally headache inducing way. Tone (Tony, just with an E, and the cafe manager) tells me on my first day 'I'm not a fan of drama so if you have any problems, let me know and we'll get it sorted.' Needless to say, it took a lot of control to not start snickering and staring at her incredulously.

Saying all of that though, it is proving a bloody hilarious place to work and so very different to Armadale where back-stabbing, bitching, and jealousy were all the rage. Here, these guys seem to actually *like* each other, even as there is such a massive mix and contrast to personality types. I mean with Claire and Tone alone, you never really know what mood they will be in, Claire more so. Tone, you know is always going to be loud and boisterous, but Claire is more...psychotic. Then you've got Stacy that you *never* know really where you stand, she's snarky, sarcastic, and seems as though she kicks puppies for fun. But she's not and I suspect (and have had it confirmed) that she's got a heart of gold and is one of the most generous people around.

The cast of characters is extensive, and it's definitely proving to not be boring. Even the agonisingly slow days when we have nothing to do and Claire spends at least an hour cleaning the grooves in the fridge doors just to have something to do. Claire btw, is the kitchen supervisor and the one going back to uni who's job I may be taking over, not that anyone is aware.

Working with Trish and Shannie (though Shannie and I actually haven't worked together yet) is good, as Trish...she's another one that you really don't know how to take when you first meet her. IN fact, I guarantee, the first time you see her, you end up with the wrong impression. And then the second, again, a different picture, but not the real girl. It takes a lot of time, and experience to really start to see the woman beneath the layers. Well, and a lot of disturbing, scarring stories with details you never wanted. [shudders]


We've also begun recording the temperatures every hour for every day for the next month in the kitchen, afterwards Tone is going to give the readings to Alan, the owner, and tell him to fix the god damned air con or do something about it. And considering the temps wavered between thirty and forty five/fifty? Yeah. And, it's not even summer yet, and this wasn't even over the grill, which, I will place serious money on it being a good ten to fifteen higher when you're cooking and in a rush.

Why did I decide to go back to a freaking kitchen just as summer is getting started up, again?

Oh right, because I love the damn work. [facepalm]

So, all and all, an eventful first week and a half.

It's kind of odd being back at Dome, I think. Odd because I remember so much of it (psychotic memory for certain details), and yet, I know I'm not at my former skill level just yet. I'll get there, but I keep finding myself impatient with myself because I can't actually preform the miracles I expect of myself or do the workload I used to. I remember it all, but this job isn't simply about 'knowing', you really have to have a feel for it. You have to know your kitchen inside and out, know you cooking times and your grill. You have to know how each piece of equipment works, what its quirks are and when it will play up on you. You've got to fit yourself into a machine that's running, and once you know them, then you can work magic.

I know this, and I know I will get there because I was at this stage once, 14 or so months ago, but while I haven't forgotten, I have to get myself back in sync with the kitchen. Maybe it's just a quirk of mine, but I approach things like this instinctively, I do it by touch and feel, not by the numbers. I'll get there, and I know I will, it just takes time and being in there.

It's just a bit frustrating because I have to keep telling myself to settle and not push too hard, that I need to be gentler about it and ease back both back into the job and into this new kitchen. I'll get there, it's just proving a trying experience that I am learning a lot from, namely to ease up on myself when it comes to expectations.


[exhales] And in other news, I had a dream this morning. Generally speaking, I don't remember my dreams. Normally, I can name them off on one hand, however many I've had in months though they do seem to becoming more frequent in recent years (one or two). For the most part though, I go several weeks without recalling a single thing, which means that when I do, it's very odd to me.

The one I had today has unsettled me for more reasons than that one simply transpired. What I dreamt has proved...disturbing, though not in the traditionally associated meaning of the word. I dreamt about someone who at one time I cared for deeply, but in my dream, I'd met someone new, I was pursuing that wonderful new romance and making those adorable initial connections. Midway through, I noticed the person from my past and actually ducked away. I didn't want to deal with them, with the way things went down, I didn't want to endanger this new thing.

So, we made to leave without me letting on what was going on, but I was pursued. I feigned deafness in a crowded area as I headed towards the door, which to me, meant freedom. All I had to do was walk through the exit, into the sunny day and it would all be over. I'd never have to revisit that past again. I could walk into a new day with my future and new friend, and that would be it. But I heard something like 'Damnit, Gill. Do you think this is easy on me?" And god knows why, but I turned around, I followed her into a more private location.

What got me the most was how I reacted in my dream to her, both seeing her, and when she stepped close, when she made a gesture of pretty big commitment to me. And it was all out of the blue, that's the really striking thing about it all. Even in my dream, the events were unexpected and seemingly random. It wasn't a 'present day' kinda thing, I was dreaming about a couple years in my future. I was myself, recognisable, but I'd grown, I was a little older, and whereever I was, I didn't recognise it, but I knew it was familiar to Dream Me.

I woke up before I did anything really more than stare in dumbfounded confusion at the woman kneeling in front of me making a pretty big gesture.

And I still don't know what the fuck to make of it. I mean, what the fuck brain?! Seriously, What the Epic Frilly fuck? I do *not* need this. I'm over that crap, over that situation, and I'm done with it. I'm done with it because I *chose* to be, because the actions made by involved parties made it abundantly clear at the time just how it was all going to go down. I am *happy* with the path that I am taking and want no part of that fuckery. That door closed.

And then my subconscious has to pull out this shit that completely fucks me up and makes me wonder what the fuck kind of crack my brain is on. What, first my stomach has to screw with me, now my brain? What, next week is it my liver giving me the big ol' 'Fuck you'? Or maybe my lungs. Traitorous bastards, them, you know. Always whispering and plotting things and in cahoots with your heart.

...Actually, I'd really like it if my internal organs and I could get along. Really. It makes life and living so much easier. And besides, my diplomatic talks with the stomach and the deals brokered are actually better for the good of the community, so they shouldn't be mutinous bastards. And I know I am talking about my organs as though they are separate, sentient entities.

But, point being, that dream was just...I hate the thought that there could be even the barest shred of truth in what I dreamt, namely in my involuntary, instinctive response to her. I hate the thought that even in a couple of years, she could still hold any sort of sway over me. Fuck, I suppose you could say it scares the hell out of me.


[bursts out laughing and proceeds to roll on floor laughing my arse off]

I mentioned who I'd dreamt of and that it'd unsettled me and she beautifully put it into perspective:

Dizzy: oh?
Dizzy: O.O
Dizzy: uh... not a wet dream i hope

...Too true. *THAT* really woulda been fucking weird.

[continues to laugh] Oh, that helped so much. God.

[starts chuckling again] Sorry, probably doesn't seem all that amusing to anybody else, but it *really* just...the comment was perfect.

I know, I know, I totally missed my deadline for the damn story, and I missed it big time. Not a lot of good reasons for this, beyond all of my writing time being taken up by having a house guest three out of four weekends this last month (and the other weekend consisted of one day). As I do most of my writing at night, the early shift days shafted that as well. I'm a solitary writing and find it extremely difficult, neigh on impossible, to write around people. Little snippits are one thing, but serious writing? Nuh-uh

Then came Saturday, the epic day of celebrations. Pride, Iain's 21st, Halloween, My last day, all of it to celebrate. Totally missed pride as people take too long to get ready it seems, but that was okay. was a great night.

Sunday morning at about 430 am, when I probably would've put in my typical 11th hour brilliant effort (all of my writing tends to be the mad rush to the finish line), well, I ended up sick, prribly, vially sick. As much as I would love to say that it was all self-induced and a hangover, it's not. This is a stomach thing, and I still am having trouble on Tuesday. Sunday saw me throwing my guts up pretty much all day, among other things, and so far, I've managed to keep about two pieces of dry white toast in me since Saturday. Lovely..

And now, on top of everything else, now my laptop's monitor seems to be fucked. If brother boy does not have a spare screen I can borrow, I will be without computer for however long it takes me to figure something out (spare monitor, repair, or heaven forbid, new computer.


[sigh]

I'm posting this link for a few reasons, in particular because her words are those that I believe people need to read, to hear, and to let touch their hearts and souls. There is sadness and sorrow, depth and great mirth contained within them. Some of the words will make you burst out laughing, and others move you as they brush your heart and steal your breath. They will humble you, even as they fill you with a sense of comprehension and compassion. Some say that words are merely that: just words, but they have power, they contain the ability to change you and make you a better human being. Not all words can, but hers? What she has to say can change you.

http://lisaraniray.wordpress.com/



I had the pleasure of discovering Lisa Ray a couple months back when I watched 'I Can't Think Straight' for the first time. I fell in love with her character and was astounded at just how damn gorgeous this woman is. She's seriously breath-taking and was another of those moments where it was all '[swallows slowly]...[stare]...Whoa.' But it transcended that because there's just something about her that comes through onto film and arguably sugary sweet as ICTS can be accused of being, there is a heart to the film that lies in the efforts of the actresses and their director.

I found through an LJ-flister's journal however, some news I can't term as sad as upon reading some of her blog, there is not that pervading depression, but definitely has the capacity to break the heart. In June of this year, she was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a currently incurable disease of the white blood cells. The amazing thing is, as you read her words, as you listen to her on her journey through this, you begin to not see that word 'incurable' or 'often fatal' because really, how can this woman not make it through? She believes it, she knows that there's simply no other way, that she is going to be Okay, and as you read her words, you believe it too.

The thing is, though, even if you don't know her work or have followed her career, even if you don't know anyone currently battling with cancer, there is something to gain in reading her blog. Her words are amazing, the things she comes out with are astounding and touching, and poignant. She's thoughtful and filled with so much wisdom and insight and it's so casually packaged that it resonates within you.

People always talk about how this book can change your life, or this music will touch your soul. Well, Lisa Ray's blog can do the same. Take a look, and I promise you, you won't regret it.

So, my last weekend before my self imposed deadline for a Halloween fic has passed with again, practically nothing written. Brilliant job there, kitty. Really gotta leave it til the very last moment, huh? [grins] Yeah, I really do. I can already feel the damn story starting to itch at the back of my brain. It wants to be told and the closer the 31st comes, the more insistent it's going to get, so, with luck, I'll get onto writing it. That or I know what I'm doing Saturday!

Had a really good weekend though, as it was my RDO on Friday. [sniff sniff] Really gonna miss having one of them, I have to admit. And gonna miss not having to work Sundays. Or public holidays. However, a couple of my major reasons I stated to Vernon when I initially applied for leaving hospitality for retail was that I wanted the security of a roster that wouldn't constantly be changed, was fed up of working all weekends and didn't want to work late nights all the time. Well, I've never had a set roster, not really, and the company is really, psychotically pushing late night trading, Sunday trading, and being open public holidays. I gain nothing by remaining in Retail except being in an industry I'm really not all that keen on; at least I enjoy hospitality. And as absurd as this will sound, the customers are generally nicer.

Damon got into town on Thursday and left this morning after dropping me off at work, so I spent most of it in his company, which is always enjoyable. I think one of the things I adore about him the most is that we constantly are laughing, at each other, at everyone else, at just everything in general. Mind, I think I watch more movies and anime when I'm with him then any other time. I got a phone call at quarter to six though from Hong pleading with me to come in (on my day off, after hours) to shuffle some of the displays around. I then promptly bribed Damon to help me. Mind, we didn't end up going out clubbing, but if he is down next weekend, I will pay up.

Saturday, Shannie and I had planned a beach barbecue, but the weather refused to cooperate like a little bitch, and it was overcast and just plain 'Bleh'. So, again, spent a good part of it sprawled on the couch watching anime with Damon before finally grabbing supplies from the shops for an instead imitation bbq at my place. Shannie, Mark, Ricky, Kim, and Shaun came over which in addition to Iain, Damon and I made a slightly full house, but it was good and workable. Something that amused the hell out of me though was that it was Shannie and I doing the cooking and we were both working our way through a couple of beers at this point. Then we started mixing up drink concoctions. No idea how much I actually drank as I didn't feel drunk, though I was more boisterous and more of a brat (not that anyone can tell the difference heh.)

And of course, when you get Ricky, Iain, and Mark together with an X box in the room, gaming must commence. Mark and Ricky disappeared for about an hour which raised all kinds of eyebrows and snickers, later coming back with more controllers and Halo. Ie, it was really madness then. So, Shannie and I made drink concoctions (and didn't really share with many people as I don't think they were game to try the half a bottle of vodka and strawberry/raspberry mix of Shannie's or Mango and tequila/triple sec I made) and cooked the food. We watched movies, entertained each other, Kim and Shaun dealt with an irritating ex girlfriend, Shannie and I half passed out sprawled on the futon watching odd videos on Rage, Damon sat on Ricky, and made an absolute mess of my kitchen.

All and all, it was a very successful night, but next time I either am doing this at the beach or with a damn bbq, with citronella candles, and outdoor seating. Kim and Shaun ended up wandering off sometime after we watched a couple movies as they'd both been at work since 5 am and were suitably buggered. After that, Shannie and I -as mentioned- ended up sprawled on the Futon watching Rage videos or 'Cross of Iron' -which from what i vaguely remember was odd- while the boys played Halo. Then Ricky took Mark and Shannie home. Oh yeah, and somewhere in between there, Iain wandered off to his computer.

For some reason I let Damon cajole me into playing Damnation on the X box, and let me tell you something: I suck at Xbox. Seriously. It's so sad it's hilarious. But I amused myself while he dashed about shooting things until we realised it was half passed three in the morning. After that, I crawled into bed to pass out.

Sunday saw much dishes avoidance and watching of Anime. Watched most of Vandred (second time for Damon as he watched it on Friday), and yeah, mostly spent the day watching movies, which was nice and pleasant. Iain left at midday to go to the beach at Scarborough with the girls, and when he came back, looked like shit. Big wave came behind him and threw him into Caitlin leading him to headbutt the back of her head.

I have proceeded to laugh, snicker, giggle, and outright burst into chortles of mirth and amusement all day. I am not laughing because my brother came home with a swollen lip and stitches in said lip. I am not laughing because he is in pain. I am laughing because that's just about right for the poor boy (and Caitlin). That's just his luck, AND hers, as Caitlin has been with Iain for three out of the last four ER trips, though this time wasn't an ER trip (shoulda been) but makes four trips to medical related centres.


I should've been working this Saturday, and it should've been my final day with Coles, however, they've given me a parting gift by fucking up with my roster *again.* Mind, some would think that getting Saturday and Sunday off would be a good thing, but I actually liked working Saturdays as I got to see the kids, Kim keeps me eternally entertained, and I woulda had the chance to say good bye. Instead, I'm Monday to Friday this week. However, I've warmed up to the notion as it means then that at least I won't be a complete zombie on Saturday.

Which brings me to the coming weekend which may very well be the weekend of awesomeness. Why so good? Let me explain the reasons:

Halloween
Iain's 21st birthday
Pride
My final days with Coles
Starting a new job (the second, but eh)
Samhain/New Year

Yeah, it kinda tickles me that I start a new adventure with the beginning of the Celtic New Year. Heh. But yeah, this weekend very well may be going off, or will be a complete bust. No idea. All I do know is that the Court (if not all clubs) are open until six am for one of two nights of the year, and that alone is worth celebrating.

Oh yeah, and then there is the epic story deadline that I will either be celebrating having smashed or drowining my sorrows.

OH! AND! If I am not mistaken, the final Blesdisloe cup game! So RUBGY!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I figured I should finally make a mention of the follow up to my last entry, of the response and result of my Monday morning news. Well, as much as everyone else was surprised, my store manager wasn't. When I asked him how much time he needed to replace me, the expression he wore was of the 'aw, fuck, I *knew* this was coming' variety. He didn't even attempt to ask if there was any way of changing my mind, avoiding this, or stopping me. Now, I could take that as a he doesn't give a damn, or that he not only could completely understand my reasons (unstated, but well known and documented), and knew that my mind had been made up long before I went to talk to him. That or someone passed on my earlier spazing out regarding Puss. [laughs] God knows. But, from the comments he made to Adam later, he understood where I was coming from with resigning after working with my Manager.

Which, I have to admit, this is one of the things that irritates/ed me over the entire situation. Almost everyone at that store knew how bad it was trying to work with Hong, how bad it could be, and how bad it got at different times. And yet, was anything ever done about it? Did they ever try and fix any of the situations? No, they just stood back, said 'I don't know how you put up with her,' and pushed all of us back into the fire fight. [sighs] But, it as a dead and done deal, and no longer worth making a point of. It just still rubs you as wrong, you know? It still kind of pisses you off, especially when everyone's response to my resignation is a mixture of 'can't blame you' and 'oh, why? No, don't go' even as they know some of what I've gone through.

Damon is back down this weekend and on my couch again, and thus, I have company all weekend and am going to have a fun time finding time to write...but something I really need to make an effort on. [laughs] The boy amuses me endlessly though, I do have to admit. And my god, don't ever offer to feed him pancakes because he goes absolutely mental and can eat his damn weight in them. Which is amusing. But yeah, I am back to my mantra of 'do not perv on your house guest. Do not perv on your *18 year old* house guest.' [face palm] This is so fucking weird, I tell you. Fucking weird. Not that he's so young, but cause he's a boy. Meh. Whatever. Nice scenery.

[yawns]

So, I'm kinda not quite completely but sort of am dreading work tomorrow, not because of work, but because of what I have to do first thing. I can't even put it off until the last minute as I have to do it before 10 am if possible.

I spoke to someone about a job today, and I think if it'd been possible, she would've had me starting tomorrow. I have to give notice, however, and I'm not going to be a dick about it. I have to talk to Vernon first thing and find out how much time he needs to replace me and balance it between the proper time frame of giving notice and what I would like to give. Either way, within the month, I may just be out of there.

Now, I'm not reluctant or regretful or anything, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't apprehensive. I have reservations over this all, sure. I mean, going back to that company? Considering the amount of shit I went through the first time around? I mean, fuck, this was the job and company that saw me in the freezer basically having myself a mental/nervous breakdown. This is the job, that during my end of days I was experiencing frequent bloody noses and I broke down in tears in front of a complete stranger one day. Yeah, I still avoid going anywhere near her shop as I feel like an absolute idiot. So yeah, I am more than a little sorta kinda a bit terrified.

However, Tone is a different woman, a different manager. She's already told me they run things differently, and just from listening to her, she's going to do the one thing I never got from Trevor and Alicia: support. Thing is, I could've coped with all the shit they threw at me and all the miracles they expected of me, if they'd've supported me, if they'd given me the authority to do what they demanded.

I am stressing, I will admit that -trying to do the actual admit when I am experiencing crap like that instead of denying it and trying to ignore it. I'd be stupid not to be. But, I also know that this is a job I loved. For all the literal blood, sweat, and tears I shed for it over the first go around, I fucking adored it. The main thing though that has me off kilter is the speed at which this is all looking to occur with. I had the intention of telling Tone I could probably hold off until December, and maybe even push through 'til Feb if need be so that I'm not rushing her on a job. Instead, she essentially said 'Give them a week and come play.'

Now, for the Coles side of things, on the one hand, there's my natural impulse to be apologetic and not wanting to upset anyone, but then there's the other part of me that in recent years has become the belligerent, brash, rebellious dickhead of an upstart that has been harder to ignore or keep quiet. That part of me is essentially going 'Fuck em. I've quit one day, been that pissed I literally ached from the tension and resisting the urge to physically kill the woman, and let's not forget that whole manager punching you business. Considering all the shit that's gone on, I owe them nothing.' I don't completely agree, as I suppose I could say they've done a lot for me there, but then again, there is so much shit going on...

This isn't all about the fact that Puss is now at my store, as Little Miss Always in Boots avoids me and when she is near me either plays the meek 'barely look at you' routine or the only words out of her mouth have been 'Sorry, dahl' when she moves out of my way. But, I also know the routine is just that. She's still got fangs and claws and know it's a matter of time 'til she sinks 'em into someone. Point being, she's not the reason. Yes, I had the knee-jerk reaction and that is what started this, but I could've held on longer. Which, I know, that makes it sound as though all this IS about Puss.

It isn't however, this is actually about a lot of things. A lot of which I've observed over the last year, a lot of things that I do not agree with. There is a lot of shit going on with this company and as I've spent the last week, week and a half having a long, hard look at things, I've come to realise, this is not a company I want to sign up with career-wise. Things are changing, and as much as I do enjoy certain days on my job, they are few and far between. Maybe if I had my own department, that I could attain MY standards and run my way, I could actually be happy. But if I ask myself the truth, if I ask myself 'Am I happy?' the answer is not going to be 'yes.' It will be that I am content at the moment, that I am passing each day in a workable enough fashion, but I am not *happy.* Okay, I'm no where near as stressed as I was at Armadale and I'm not going through that kind of shit, but neither am I truly happy.

And for me, that's the kicker, that's the make or break deal in things. I left Armadale because I would not settle for a second rate standard that seemed to be all the rage there. I left because I refused to drop down to that level of mediocrity, and because I'd become disillusioned with the entire thing. I needed to get out of Dome so I could finally clear my head and to be honest, that's what I've spent a lot of this last year doing. I am far healthier and much happier then I think I ever have been in my life. I'm actually enjoying living my life, and that's a pretty cool thing.

So, the last week has been pretty big, and some massive changes are brewing, but what startles me the most, I suppose, is the speed and stealth with which this is all happening. Okay, so me blurting out in the Merch office when I heard the news 'I'll fucking quit,' isn't exactly subtle, but I was blind-sided and -I will admit it- freaking the hell out. Yes, see? I can admit it, I freaked.

But I find it rather...interesting, I suppose, and more than a little...sullen growl-inducing that all these sort of more major life changing decisions sneak up on me and do so pretty damn quick. Then again, you have to do that with me. Give me time to think and plan, and I *will* freak myself out, over think everything, and end up probably engaging search and evade pattern alpha charlie kilo. Mind, I don't like shit sprung on me without warning, (namely roster changes, those I need a little time for as you do not fuck with my sleep patterns), but you can't give me too much. It's a mildly fine line between it all. But yeah, thinking about it and the way my patterns of behaviour and history speak: you really can't give me time to thinking too thoroughly and gotta poke me into reacting. At least with the big stuff.



Of course, NONE of this is really helping with that whole story I've committed to write for the deadline that is rather quickly approaching. I have a fortnight to write said story and, well, to be honest, have sorta kinda, SFA actually *written*. Got a fucktonne planned and brain stormed, but the actual prosey, paragraphy bits? Mmm, yeah, no. And what is written, will be redrafted, I am pretty sure.

Mind, all of this is not nearly as awesome as my making Chilli from scratch today, which I reckon came out pretty darn kick ass. Next time, no using the seasoning packet; I'm gonna throw in my own spices and not just augment the store-bought ones.

On top of that, one of the major highlights of my day? I got cat ears. Heh. So yes; Today, I was awesome. Tomorrow, I might just sorta kinda, not completely, but at least partially freak the hell out when I give notice.


Hmm, what was that I was saying before about how I write? Oh yeah, go big or go home.