as another year draws to a close ...

I find myself reflecting on what has gone before. I'm not usually overly sentimental or nostalgic. I am rather good at leaving things behind, and disappearing without a trace. However, there are times when we discover that what we think we have moved past is still clinging to us. We have not moved past it, but are still draging it in our wake. So, what is this weight? Fear.

Fear that no matter how old we get, or how far we go, we never seem to escape. Kate Holden put it rather well:

"We tend to think of fear as something dramatic and epic: before a battle, or in the face of catastrophe. But it's part of our lives, and every day many of us find ourselves floating on that peculiar breathless tingly cushion of air, swallowing the hollowness in the throat. We must be so brave, even the littlest of us."

And we are. All of us. Even though it's hard, and we feel like cowards. Each in our own way, we are brave. Brave enough to be ourselves. Brave enough to risk letting other people in. Brave enough to think things will be differnet. Sometimes we get it right. Sometimes we don't. Sometimes the fear grips us the moment things don't go to plan, and we jump at shadows before running for our lives.

But when do we stop? How far do we let the fear drive us? When has enough time passed for us to be able to look, objectively, at what scared us so badly and see it for what it actually is, rather than what we thought it was?

Sanskrit based languages have 96 terms for love, but we only have 1 in english. I have loved in the sanskrit sense. Without reservation, limitation, or expectation. Sometimes I have been loved in return.  Other times I have not. I have not always loved wisely, or well. But I have loved. Either way, I can look back on this year and be certain about one thing. I regret nothing.

more tales of woe ...

No, my arm hasn't fallen off. My girls have broken up. More specifically, my lesbian girls. After 18 months of touring through Asia they finally came home in December. Some of you will have seen the many photos they sent me of their travels, (the rat temple always springs to mind). Anyway the girls were supposed to stay and feed the kitties while Ren and I went north for christmas. Ms S stayed. Ms B didn't. It is a rather shitty thing to be dumped on christmas day, somehting that Ms S and I now have in common.

Now I'm no expert on relationships. In fact 9 times out of 10 I am the last to know when someone is interested in me, ditto for when they decided they are no longer interested. But this one I actually saw coming. Perhaps it is because Ms B and I are very similiar in age (8 days apart) and temperament. Or perhaps it is the fact that sometimes two people reach a point where they both want very different things. Some times, despite both parties best efforts, what was there in the beginning just goes. It's no one's fault, and there's nothing that any one can do about it. But how do you tell someone, after three years together, that this isn't what you want anymore?

I know one thing. You don't dump them on christmas day. Holidays are fucked up enough without adding that shit.

tales of blood(bank) and woe

Today was not a good day to bleed. Needle went in fine. First few draws and returns went fine, and then ... blow out. Normally I'm good with pain, but an increase of pressure inside your vein is no normal pain. One of the side effects of a blow out is that stuff leaks. Leaks outside the arm you can mop up. Leaks inside the arm are a little more tricky. I have a combination of blood and anticoagulant (which I already react badly to anyway) that has escaped the vein and is making things uncomfortable under the skin of my left bicep. They tell me to expect bruising. They also said that if at any point I feel tingling in my hand, coldness, or shooting pains, that I should get myself to casualty immediately.

I'm beginning to think that I may just stick to giving plasma. Giving platelets is getting to be hazardous to my health.

give until it hurts

I have been putting up with this headache for 18 days now. Mostly I can ignore it, but every now and then it smacks me around. I've limited my painkillers so as not to alert those around me, which means I have been able to avoid the "Go to the doctor" conversation. I'm still functioning, but this far in I am beginning to wonder how long I've got before it goes into eyeball stabbing migraine mode. 

Given I haven't had a migraine in quite some time I am a little nervous. As a contingency measure I tried to make an appointment with my acupuncturist, but he's on holiday. I can't take any of the more serious painkillers as they would prevent me from making my regular donation at the bloodbank tomorrow. The best I can hope for is that it hits during the four days I'm off over new years. At least then I can flake on the couch with the furballs in front of the air con. 

It's not like I'm doing anything anyway. I have never seen the point of going out on new years eve. People getting smashed, making poor choices, and resolutions that they never keep. I'm much happier having the house to myself ... well, I have to share with the kitties, but they don't complain if I need to spend several hours killing zombies.

On the upside I have been plotting planning on how to spend my christmas cash. Mostly I've been ordering t-shirts online, but I've also been eyeing off some new kitchen appliances. A man can never have too many baking-related pieces of machienery.

to the victor goes ... the kitties

We survived. Three whole days and the closest I came to anything christmas themed was the Dr Who special. I escaped the brief attempt at playing christmas carols, thanks to my trusty headphones, before mum conceeded. Apparently it's not as much fun if I can't hear them. The siblings were all well behaved, and there was not a single fight to be had. Almost didn't feel like christmas. Am still very glad to be home. Apparently christmas 2011 will be here. I've got 11 months to try and figure out how to get out of that one.

There was of course the lack of contact from my fathers family, which I'm not overly concerned about. As is traditional this time of year, we extend an olive brach to those that have hurt us. My brother extended his to our father, with a letter and photos of my nieces. There has been no reply. The bets regarding both olive branches have been made, but with new years closing in it seems unlikely that either of us will lose. Disappointing, but not altogether unexpected.

I did get to spend some quailty time with my nieces, Yoda in particular. No, they did not name my niece Yoda. The poor girl has been dealt an unfortunate genetic hand. She has come into this world with my nose, eyes, and the same pointed ears as me. She doesn't seem to have my attitude yet, but her parents have decided that to correct this they are making me "The Godfather." For all of my defects she is a very cute child, something she exploits shamelessly when it comes to food. Even with only two teeth she chomped through a gingerninja. How she still had room after the trifle, custard, milk, and babyfood ... she is definately one of us.

The most depressing thing of the last few days has to have been the death of Elisabeth Beresford, creator of The Wombles. All I could do was sing the theme song quietly to myself. It's sad when the few (happy) remaining links to our childhood leave us.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends ...

This time tomorrow I will once again back in the hell hole I grew up in for three days of torture, punctuated by homicidal thoughts, people I don't particularly care for, and unavoidable bullshit. I'm really not in the right frame of mind for this. Family is stressful enough, but christmas seems brings out the worst in us.

Traditionally the five and a half weeks between my birthday and christmas are filled with dread. Actually, it we're being brutally honest, it's from the 1st of November through to 2nd of January. I have always dreaded my birthday. If I were to look at it objectively I can remember only enjoying one, which would be depressing if things like that bothered me. It can be hard to celebrate something when it was also used as a reminder of how a single event fucked up peoples lives. But I digress.

The point is that by christmas I am usually wound tighter than an old watch, and want nothing more that to be far away from everyone and everything. I have only achieved this twice. Once with a uni friend who has been dead for six years now, and the other time with Ms' S & B. Though on the second ocassion I did end up in bed with a migraine by the end of the day.

This year will be the first christmas together since my grandfather died. The last christmas we all had together was 3 weeks before he died. But we will not all be together, since the family imploded shortly after the funeral (about 2 hours after). I can't say that the absence of my aunt and cousins worries me greatly. They have never cared for me, or how I have lived my life.

The main drama will be between my mother and grandmother. Strong willed women who aren't backward about coming forward. Though my mother tells me she will resist the urge, and bite her tounge. I have packed a needle and thread as I have visions of her biting clean through it. There will also be the tensions generated by my youngest brother and his continual failing in his paternal responsibilities, which my other brother feels so qualified to preach on (after all he pays his child support). Add to that my mothers ill health, and her increasing paranoia regarding my sister-in-law, and my own failing relationships ... and I'm supposed to be the peace keeper in all of this.

I should take comfort in the fact that I am already suitably numb, and that I will only be there for three days. Three very long days. So, what what words of wisdom can I offer for the holidays?

*forgive where you can
*be polite if you can't
*cranberry juice does wonders for internal plumbing

If you ignore the first two, trust me on the third. My kidney swear by it.

The difference between a mountain and a mole hill? Perspective.

I should have just called Miss T in the beginning. Words of wisdom from someone who lived with me long enough to know me well and still love me. Hopefully time will prove her right in this instance. Now all we need is some time when we are both free and can actually visit in person.

Until then I need to think of a costume for Miss A's BBQ on Australia Day. Thankfully there was a no budgie-smugglers rule stipulated nice and early. I may even have make a pavlova.

olive branch

So last night, after hours of baking, I made a decision. Actually I made several, but only one is likely to have a serious impact. I have extended the olive branch in the hope of putting some of the uncertainty behind us, (and also in not being beaten to death with it). So I sent an email, being as honest as I can about how I feel and how I would like to see things resolved.

I don't really expect a response. It would be nice, as I could definitely do without the uncertainity, but I don't expect it. I have to admit that I did feel better after sending it. I still feel better even now. Perhaps what I needed was to get it off my chest.

Regardless of the outcome I can at least feel that I have done everything in my power to salvage the friendship. As to whether or not it will be enough ...

funk

Yep, I'm in a funk. Not a good funk that would see me dancing around the kitchen, but the other kind. So, what to do about it? I've organised to catch up with Miss T for a phone date, but that's not until Monday night. I think I'm also having coffee with the uni girls after work on Monday. That leaves me with today to struggle through. When even zombie aren't cutting it there is only one option: baking.

The gingerbread dough is resting, and by 3 I should be rolling and cutting little bodies. I am considering making a flat-pack gingerbread house that I can assemble once I get to Nans, but I'll see how I go. I'm not feeling better yet, but hopefuly I will by the end.

inappropriate posts

Ok, so I got an email from a friend about posting on her blog. I of course then started thinking about this blog, and how neglected it has been. Though in truth it's not like anyone is following, so this is really not a big thing. But then I thought if no one is following this I can say whatever I want. This brings me back to the title of this post. It could also have been alternatively titled: "People who inexplicably (and unintentionally) attract indescrible amounts of drama into their lives."

The details of which are unimportant. Or in my case would be except for one small problem: the hole in my life, left by a certain individuals departure, is much larger than I had anticipated.

Granted that is rather cryptic description, but just because no one is reading right now does not mean no one will read it ever.