walking rek

This is big day for me. Actually, it has been a big week for achievements, but today was especially important. I went for, and passed first time, the dreaded Driver Qualification Test. This is the fourth and final step in the NSW driving licence program which qualifies me with a full licence. And for the trifle sum of $142 I got me a gold one for 5 years. The green P plates are gone! I am now ok to use mouth wash or take medication which has some alcohol content if I plan to drive, I can hire a car and of course I am legally allowed to drive at 110km/hour. Important stuff!

This week also saw me officially complete the course I had been doing for the last 3 months. The satisfaction level was tangible. I am already planning my next educational experiment, but will wait till the new year to get under way. Thinking of creative writing, a language class and some ghetto booty dance classes to keep it real.

As the end of 07 draws near I look back and smile. With a little bit of motivation and regular bouts of positive thought and support from strong friendships I have managed to achieve most of the goals I set for myself this year, along with a few others I wasnt expecting. I celebrated these milestones by promptly investing in a swag of good wine which I plan to share.

LOL I sound all grown up!

Moved in to the new home. Was the normal pain in the ass to pack up and ship out but well worth it as I sit here over looking the tree lined street from my fabulous new bedroom. I havent moved house in the last 6 years but prior to that I was a regular gypsy so it was nothing too stressful, just heavy. I dont remember accumulating all that extra furniture, kitchen ware, clothing, candles and plants though, and to be honest I could probably chuck a lot of it out. But I might leave that for another day, I am exhausted.

My delightful ex-neighbours sent me off with a barrage of insults hurled from the safety of their second storey flat. I was expecting some kind of childish behaviour from them so it didnt really come as a suprise, they are, after all, just a sad angry couple who are jealous of others less sad and angry then they. I smiled sincerely (I am thrilled to be leaving them behind!), blew a kiss, took a bow and continued packing my car.

I’m guessing they dont yet know about the new born baby who has arrived to live directly next door

The lap of the gods has produced a fine new home for Peggy and I. We will soon be residents of a little suburb called Darlington which shall no doubt become the centre of our universe.

FJ will join us in the new venture as too will Ange, a close friend from work.

I feel really lucky to have landed this place. As usual, the inspection drew a large crowd and fierce competition. The real estate agent tried to bully us into tendering higher rent by saying that other applicants had offered considerably more. I stood my ground and said forget it. 10 minutes later they were ringing to ask us to put our deposit down. LOL!

The move is happening in about 2 weeks.

Peggy hasnt figured out what all the boxes are for yet.

I am not ded. I am VERY lucky. I do not have serious injuries bar trauma to elbow, ribs, hips, neck, shoulders and a cut on my eyebrow. I lost a favourite tshirt and hoodie when they cut me open at the scene. I then lost all my clothes when they stripped me down in ER. I got to ride in an ambo and inhale funky green gas before morphine sorted me out properly. I stopped traffic for a while, but i cannot fly.

I went over the handle bars down a steep hill at 35km/hr when i slammed on the brakes of my newish bike. Rear wheel kicked up, throwing me into the path of incoming traffic at peak hour on Pyrmont Bridge Road. I was reacting to a car whose movements i couldnt predict: i had the choice of either maintaining my path and maybe colliding with this vehicle, veering right to avoid the obstacle and taking a chance with the cars behind me, or braking. I didnt add gravity or momentum into the equation, math was never my strong point. Lord help me Words!

Hit the ground. Started screaming. Didnt lose consciousness, I think. Managed to get the guy who rendered immediate assistance (Mark) to also call my boss. Right elbow not good, adrenalin pumping thru me so hard i can only breathe short and fast to keep up with my heart. I’m flattened on the road with my bike on top of me; apparently the bike wanted a softer landing then mine. Right about now i remember i have my helmut and gloves on. Ambos scraped me off the road after getting my neck in a brace: the senior officer (Liz) was funny and lovely and calm, suggested i take my guardian angel for a drink.

In ER they discovered i wasnt wearing knickers under my shorts that day. One less thing for them to cut off in a hurry. Weird thought though, lying there with 6 doctors checking my vitals for spinal damage, i’m wondering if i caught them off guard with my commando routine. Then, they roll me over to check for ribs poking thru skin and open my butt cheeks to see if i’m bleeding internally. Kinda wish i was passed out completley for that bit. Next comes the xrays, right there on the table. She was a cold bitch, yanking and prodding my limbs like they werent attached. I could feel it through the fog, she didnt care, a starched white robot straight out of the Cuckoos nest. Sweet irish accent on hand to cover me up with the gown and a blanket, i’m shaking with shock and drugs hard wired in my vein.

They call it trauma. The media call it “Ride to Work Day”. I’m calling it “The Day I came Closest to Dying…so far”. Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe you read this and think, what a wimp. But the look on the faces of my friends who came to ER that day brings tears my eyes as i write this. I am only one woman, yet i am not alone. Had my number come up i would have left without question or regret. And so i sit re-reading this, contemplating what it means now to be here, with these friends, in this life i have built for myself and i wonder why.

I got hit on by an extremely cute lad last nite. Had to turn him down despite his obvious interest in me and his endearing persistence. He was 22.

This may come as a bit of shock to my dear readers, but I havent often rejected offers of casual sex from handsome gents in the past. My checkered relationship history has meant that I’ve spent as much time being single as I have been someone’s loyal girlfriend. Its an even 50/50 split. In saying so, the opportunities for exciting encounters with random strangers during the “on” season have been ample. I am, after all, the adventurous type.

My recent decision to stay at the party with my friends rather then disappear into the nite was almost a first. I am puzzled by this change of heart, enough so to blog about it. And potentially muddy my rep in coming clean. But the question perplexes me more then my dirty laundry. Why didnt I run with the wolves? He was totally hot this guy last nite, and bold which I like. It may have been the age gap, but that hasnt really bothered me in the past…could it be the onset of premature menopause???

The likely truth is that I am more interested in a long term partnership then one nite stands these days.

Maybe I have this subconscious theory that if I refrain from casual carnal delights then Mr Long Term Double Income No Kids (maybe) + House will roll into my life sooner. Part of me wants to believe this fairy tale.

The more realistic part of me knows that life is often unfair and that I may be single for some time yet despite my self inflicted oath of celibacy. There are a lot of hot guys in the world. It would seem wasteful to ignore chemistry and passion between 2 free agents…

Damn, I didnt get his number!

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Today my facebook horoscope apps had this to say:

“This is a great time to throw yourself passionately at the next attractive opportunity.”

and

“Heartwise, you can expect to live an encounter with someone young and brilliant who will fascinate you.”

Well, I guess we can safely say that my timing was well and truly OFF this weekend LOL!

Just a quick note to advise that the battle with my unsavoury neighbours hath cometh to an end. An opportunity to move house has presented itself (finally) and I am grabbing it with both hands. Whilst I havent yet found the new house, I do have the advantage of 2 great flatmates with whom to move. Our options are looking bright for a bigger, better home with bath and garden with sensible rent. The inspections begin in earnest tomorrow.

The sense of relief is overwhelming.

But, I’m not overjoyed to leave my home of almost 6 years. I will miss the grand high ceilings with ornate cornices, the cosy lounge in winter, the blessed sun room, balmy afternoons on the porch. I will miss the long corridor which I used to run up and down when I first moved in after living in poky apartments for too long. I will miss the cool interior when the temps rise in summer. I will miss the huge arched windows in my bedroom, and the view of the old gum trees across the road. I will miss the Kokoda Track which used to run down the side of the house. I will miss living in this house, it has been my island, my mountain, my dancefloor, my home.

The era is over. New life begins.

*** Had an inspection of current house by real estate about a week after I wrote this blog. Turns out that they want to gut and renovate the whole place soon so I’d have to move anyhow. Funny how that worked out. By deciding to move of my own accord I feel empowered. The neighbours will also need to move. But, as the renovations will begin downstairs in my flat first, they will be subjected to the delighful sound of builders for a few weeks before they get the boot. I don’t wish to sound smug, but suck shit you fckn morons***

Alas today I got a touch of the single street blues.

Went to IKEA to fix the perpetual problem I have with clothes management. Surrounded by couples n families. The stuff I wanted to buy was really heavy and I had a lot of trouble getting it in to my trolley and then into my car. Had to enlist the help of random guys who were like “Dont u have any one to help you with this?”. Uh uh. Sooo embarassing. Their wives/girlfriends all gave me this “How pathetic” look. It was the Bridget Jones moment I have been dreading. That miserable song “All By Myself” was even playing over the inhouse PA system. If I wasnt choking back hot tears of humilation I probably would have found the scenario deliciously amusing.

Needless to say I will get over it by morning, and I now have 2 big sturdy chests of drawers THAT I ASSEMBLED MYSELF!

Something to say for being good with instructions

Does Freedom have a more single friendly vibe? I’d be interested to find out. Shall keep u posted…

My poor old knees have been getting a work out this past week.

I took a flamboyant spill on the dancefloor at Spectrum on Saturday nite. This was ok as I was in a very jolly mood, I had my red shoes on and I was dancing like Mick Jagger (or trying to). Bounced up from the wet floor, took a curtsey and started boppin around again. Didnt really remember the incident till much later the next day when I was rumaging around for something in the mountain of clothes that permanently inhabits my room when the pain hit. Closer inspection revealed evidence of a heavy tumble on both knees, bruised and puffy with fluid building steadily in that bit below the patella. No skirts for me this week!

And so, wearing my sharp black pants I make my merry way to work on Monday. Push bike has been deemed unroadworthy by the swathy gents at Cheeky Transport (another story) so I’m on the tram for a few weeks. Strolling across City West Link at the pedestrian crossing, I momentarily misplace gravity and take yet another belly flop, this time in the middle of the road. Bag and contents fly everywhere, mobile phone skates across the intersection and I’m left laughing so hard I can hardly drag my shredded pants to safety on the other side. I need to point out here that I was NOT jay walking at the time but observing correct pedestrian protocol. I was, however, wearing those red shoes again…

It is moments like these that remind me why walking rek is such a fitting moniker. It seems that depsite my ardent efforts to be industrious and sensible, those mischievous imps that follow me around are just as up for a laugh as I am. Too bad for my knees though, they are on ice for a week. The smart black pants were sadly another casualty, but the red shoes are in fine form, waiting for round three…

On a solemn note, the last of the 3 black moors that I got a few months back is doing his death dance. I am saddened by this as I’ve grown quite attached to their peaceful movements and soft googly eyes. One by one, from smallest to largest, these fish have droppped off at a rate of one a month. I’ve been doing everything I’m supposed to from partial water changes, neutral pH levels and sensible feeding. I take pet care seriously. But it is obviously not enough in this case.

I will not be discouraged though. I have had many long term and colourful relationships with siamese fighters, I even had a good stab at breeding them one year… maybe I’ll go back.

I have bronchitis. Coughin up buckets of lung butter and drenching my bed in sweat is not exactly what I call a great Friday nite in.

But as I was tripping lucidly with a funky fever, it was somewhat entertaining at least for a while.