One More Thing, One More Time

To be honest, when you asked if I have been ok lately and I responded that I have been quite good, I think there was both truth and lie to my answer. I have been quite good. It was a lot easier this time. I didn’t break down, I wasn’t useless for several days, I didn’t have to watch a dozen soppy break up movies and I didn’t go and do something that could have ruined my future.

But in other ways, it has been pretty rough; the last two-ish weeks have been a blur and an odd cocktail of emotions. I hadn’t realised how low my motivation was until I remembered that I hadn’t touched university work all holidays, that I haven’t done a day of work since the 28th, that I feel like life is just filler until I can go away in August, forget about Australia and come back in 2016 and get a fresh start on so many things…

These undesired feelings of emptiness and anger trying to overpower a desire to be joyful and be me.

How did I stray so far from who I was those years ago?

There was no fight, there didn’t need to be. There was not much of a discussion, there didn’t really need to be. I think we knew that this would be the outcome. By words said or unsaid, actions completed or not, we ended up at the same conclusion, and that is why the fight or immediate discussion did not have to be had.

It is funny, the first time we broke up; I started running because it was something we always said we should do and yet never did. The second time, I decided not to shave because we had always had different opinions on my facial hair. I think, to some extent, these symbolise why we broke up. The first was because we always said, but never did. The second was more about who we were and our personal opinions and preferences. Unfortunately, I can not run at the moment and the no shaving became more annoying than my poor display of facial hair.

I didn’t know how much one changes over three years.

Change is hard. I liked who I was in 2011, at least I think I did. I liked the direction that I was planning on going, at least I think I did. I liked the views I held, at least I think I did. How much of me now was in me then? In years down the track will I say I like who I am in this moment?  Am I lost in a limbo between who I was and who I am to be?

I want to feel angry, I want to yell, but I have no reason to do either of these things.

The first time we broke up, I felt I had become lazy, and I think I had. The spark had disappeared, I don’t know where it went, or when it went. I question now as to if we had ever been able to connect on a deep and emotional level or were our discussions simply statements of our points of view with me trying to sell you my opinion and when you didn’t want it I became bitter and cold? This is most likely an unfair and unjust view on our relationship.

I hate myself for not being the one to end it.

You are right, your post hits the nail on the head and goes into the detail that I do not, but you know the meaning of what I am saying. If not for the lead into the first time, then definitely in the lead into the second time, I did my best and yet… the breakup was still for the best. I knew these things, but I kept holding on to something, an impossible vision that was never to be. I fear I may have been holding on to this for far far too long.

So, who am I? Who am I without her? What drives me? What of me do I want to keep? What of me do I want to do without? Since when have I ever described myself as hating myself? I fear I do not know the answer to some of these questions, and that is a frightening thought.

In 1972 , a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These men promptly escaped from a maximum-security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem...if no one else can help...and if you can find them...maybe you can hire... HAMISH AND ANDY!!!!

How do I start describing Hamish and Andy, they are the friendship everyone would wish for, the best bromance ever, up there with JD and Turk, quck witted and bubbly, smiles and pooping rainbows... I sound a bit like a horrible fan girl here, but no, they really are amazing and joy exudes from their lips.

Six years ago no one really would have been able to tell you who Hamish and Andy were (hamish and andy and never Andy and Hamish). But haven't they accomplished so much in 6 short years.

They have Traversed Australia both North to South and East to West taking the people on 'the people's holiday' and 'who dares darwins' xD.

Sailed the bass straight with a fearless... but often sea sick crew made up of the the people on the Tally Shore.

Shown courage on foreign shores by driving Abravan Lincoln unfortunatly not winning the people a hover board in an american casino but the United States would be conquered on a later trip.

Hitting the UK for the first time Ham and Ando hunted the lochness monster and old people at antiques roadshow, a great sucess for the people.

But Hamish and Andy are much more than this, they have done so many other things, never did i think I would be part of the creation of a chip, own a grey hound, be so excited when an old KFC bucket began to turn, be rooting for the consumption of hot, cold or massive amounts of food. They have been taped together for a weekend, partaken in a bi bi tri bi athalon, party marathon and even a real marathon, eaten only free food for a week and invented the best way to catch up with friends after a long week... over smooth jazz.

I think the most disappointing news was when they decided that they were not going to be continuing their radio show full time, unfortunely I stopped listening, but i didn't stop watching and their influence stayed with me.

Hamish and Andy's American and Euro Gap year TV shows have been up there with other great Australian comedy shows such as 'Thank God You're here' and Spicks and Specks....

Speaking of these shows, really brings to light Hamish's solo career, appearing on almost half of all spicks and specks episodes and his episodes of thank god you're here some of the most entertaining in the shows history, so good he even appeared on the UK version. So popular is Australia, he won the Gold Logie for Most popular personallity on TV, for his first television show, something normally won by people appearing on the silver screen for decades.

It shits me right up the wall, how cunts use fucking swear words to make the stories their bitches told them more fucking interesting.

I am sorry about the gratuitous use of swears and swearing in this post I was offended writing it but it was to prove a point.

I understand swearing in moments of pain, distress or when deeply distraught, it some how takes away a little bit of the pain, there are actually studies on this. And while I understand it, it doesn't mean I like it and I try not to do it. I really only have one memory of doing it justifiedly; Tackled from behind infront of the goal in soccer, the ref didn't blow his whistle so I stood up, turned around and yelled at the ref 'Are you fucking serious?!?!?!", for this action I recieved a yellow card, a fair punishment.

I try to minimise these slip ups and I do swear per se occasionally, things like replacing 'fuck' with a drawn out 'far out' or 'shit, with 'shoot', I am unsure as to whether i think saying these things are just as wrong, that is whether I have a problem with the words themselves or the use there of.

No what I have a real problem with is what I would term 'casual swearing', swearing that doesn't realy add to the significance or meaning of a sentence, simply swearing for

My first example comes from that of alcoholic drinks and in particular shots. The key shots in question being, the 'quick fuck', the 'slippery nipple' and the 'wet pussy'. Some drinks have class, a Martini has class, a Gin and Tonic has class, a Scotch on the Rocks has class. Quick fucks, slippery nipples and wet pussies say exactly what you want. You want to get a girl's pussy wet, quickly fuck them and then get their nipples slippery.

How did speaking like this become appropriate in today's world?

By the way while I am here can I talk about how disgusted I am at the number of words you can interchange with the word 'drunk; Trashed, fucked, shit-faced, hammered and smashed, just to name a few.... No, that is a different blog post? Oh ok then.

The second irritation is when people use it to add nothing of importance to a sentance, I quote one of my friends recent facebook status', 'Remember when the Eels beat the Panthers in golden point, well, how does payback feel cunts?', or something not to dissimilar from that.

Take this example how is:

"Mate, I just went up to the bar and this drunk idiot almosted knocked over our beers and then his girlfriend just laughed and started making out with him."

Improved by:

"Fucking hell mate, I just went up the the fucking bar and this trashed wanker almost spilt our fucking beers all over the fucking floor, then this bitch of a woman just started making out with the fucking cunt".

The sentence isn't improved but the second it more common, I can't stand it. I don't know if the use of language like this is an old tradition that I am just coming to realise after spending 13 years in sheltered schools, or if people are now butchering the english language more than ever before.

Words that will haunt me forever. The words my mother used when she told me she was going to die. The cancer came back, too aggressive, too much, she is too weak. How she said those words with barely a stutter, without a tear in her eye I will never know.

It wasn't meant to be now, I hadn't planned for this, maybe in 30 years time once she had seen my children grow up, once she had seen me or at least one of her children marry. But no, sometimes life throws a curve ball at you that you just couldn't have seen coming. If someone told me a year ago that on the 23rd of May 2012 I would find out that my mother had less than a month left to live, I wouldn't have believed them.

It hurts me to know that she will probably never see me start work, but it does comfort me to know she say my elation when I got the job. My kids will never get to know their grandmother and I will have to tell them about how wonderful a person she was and what great things she achived.

Right now she is making a decision, whether to fight or accept it and take death in her stride. If she fights she will be hit by high dose radiation and chemo therapy, killing her bone marrow, her blood cells and her immune system, taking her within an inch of death. The hope being that it would put her back in remission and they could then try a bone marrow transpant to get the bad coding out of her blood that is causing these problems.

I have been told that the chance of this working is somewhere between 1 in 1000 or 1 in 10000. the other 9999 chances end in death. A death where she would have been confined to the hospital for the last month of her life, battling sickness and her own body.

The other choice is to hit her with low level radiation and chemo therapy, this will hopefully (but may not) slow the cancer down. She will be able to come home for the next month, go in to the local hospital for chemo when needed, but the lumps will grow and eventually her body won't be able to fight. She will die.

I am not sure which option I am leaning towards, I like to think that I fighting is always an option and that God does work in miraculous ways. But I also understand that my mother may be ready to go and doesn't want to die sick and cold in a hospital. It would give her a chance to say goodbye to people with finality. Either way it is a choice I would hate having to make and that it had to happen to someone so close to me.