No Right To Feel This Way

There are kids dying of starvation every day.

There are atrocities of major kinds occuring in far off places, and probably just around the corner too.

Plenty of people in the world today have found out that they have a terminal illness.

Mothers are getting visits from policemen to tell them their son/daughter has died in a car crash.

Women are being beaten by their so called protectors every night.

So who the fuck am I to feel so shit about my lot??

It is a horrible feeling to feel like everything is shit and you have no direction in life.

My kids are healthy, my family is safe and sound but things just seem to be hurtling down a black hole faster and faster.

Our move to Aussie is off, we had to analytically look at the figures and it just didn't make sense when Blair was on good money here for us to go, especially with interest rates and rents donig the massive leap over there as well.

So where does that leave us?

The house build opportunity has come and gone.

The house we live in was supposed to be a 6 month temporary abode whilst building! It is small, too small for us.

My weight is climbing.

My self esteem doesn't exist.

My husband and I are at war all the time. Not out and out war but the sort of little commando missions that break down the enemy forces and after a good year will shatter everything.

Blair is never happy.

I am always taking everything he says personally, then again "you're a fucking lazy slob" and "you're a fucking idiot" have tendancies to feel rather personal.

We have sex maybe once a month.

This has been going on for a couple of years.

I have no doubt he loves me but I think he doesn't fancy me anymore.

I think he hasn't since I first put on weight 8 years ago, we've been together 9 next month.

He is not happy with his lot.

I am not happy with my lot.

But this is the thing, I don't feel I have the right to feel this way when you look at all the poor souls out there dealing with much bigger crap.

We have decided to ride the market out and spend the next three years renting while we save a hefty deposit, if the impending Aussie move taught us anything it was that we could save if wanted to and set our minds to it.

We have also decided we need another rental property, a long termer that we love.

We found one.

Well I did, it's in Loburn, out country and it has huge grounds, four bedrooms and a rumpus room. Oh and a dishwasher and an ensuite.

Blair wanted it too.

Then he didn't want to move the kids to the country school so I pulled out of the running.

Then he changed his mind and said let's go for it.

So I reapplied and did all of the application, references etc today.

Then he got home from work and is freaking out that we are overcommiting ourselves because what if the building boom dies right off and Dad can't supply him with work and he has to work elsewhere??

So I just deleted all my photos of my ideal situation. Deck looking out to two paddocks that lead to the river.

A pony paddock.

A chook shed.

Huge trees and adventures and fun to be had everywhere.

So I'm going to pull out of the running again in the morning because if track records have taught me anything they have taught me that if we make this move and things go pear shaped then who will bear the blame for it all?? Moi of course!!

I have made and broke fifty different ideas in the last week since we made the Aussie is Off decision and I am just feeling flat and like I am at a point in my life where I have suddenly time warped to and have no idea how I got here and why I chose to come in the first place.

Life takes different turns, twists and you encounter many forks in the road. I feel like I am at a twenty road intersection and I have no idea which one to take, or even if there is a path to follow at all.

So that is why the lack of blogging (oh and the photos will come!!)

What Ya Wanna See??

I have decided to steal an idea off Beck. She did this ages ago, could even be years.

Tell me what you want to see and I will attempt to take a photo and post it.

I remember that I wanted to see Beck's letterbox.

So think of all the bizarre or normal things you would like to see of a photo of that concern me and we will see how it pans out.

And no you will not be seeing photos of the new vadge so don't even ask!!

Dear Inventor Of Duraseal,

What the fuck were you thinking when you invented this shit??

As if mothers don't have enough time consuming tasks to complete without having to cover over 30 books with the most impractical shit ever invented.

My very recent experience (until 1.12am this morning!!) had me encounter the following issues:

1. Getting the wrapping off the duraseal, anyone would think this gold the way it's so securely cling wrapped!!

2. Then I come across the sellotape to keep the roll in roll format (as if the over zealous cling wrap wasn't enough to do this??). Is this possibly THE stickiest sellotape in the world? It nearly peeled the duraseal off it's sticky backing just trying to get it off. As I had six rolls of duraseal to open last night I could of a) not had to contend with the five mins each bit of sellotape took to take off and b) not had to contend with the sticky residue the stickiest tape in the world left on the duraseal so that I ended up having to place the name labels in bizarre places to cover these sticky anomalies!!

3) How long do these rolls actually stay rolled before being released upon the unsuspecting public?? I found it a near impossible feat to keep the fucken roll unrolled!! If I didn't lay something heavy on one end I would never haven managed to cut off any sections!!

4) Do you wankers even consider the size of exercise books when you size up these rolls?? There was always a 10 - 15 cm excess at the end of the roll, over 6 rolls that is plenty of wasted bloody duraseal that would only be able to cover books for smurfs.

5) What is with the difficulty levels in being able to actually separate the backing paper from the duraseal? Is this meant to just fuck me off, cos it does!! And then 3 times out of ten, when I peeled off the backing, it had actually taken the stickiness on the backing paper, leaving the actual duraseal as sticky satin sheets!!

6) Why the bloody hell does the duraseal ALWAYS end up with air bubbles in it??? No bloody matter how slowly and definitively I placed and rolled the books onto the duraseal I would always end up with frickin bubbles.

If you were that bloody brilliant in inventing shit you would have just approached the manufacturers of exercise books and come up with an offer to add your product to their books during production so us poor haggard mothers could just buy the bloody things all ready to go, even with name labels already on them (now that's thinking outside the square!!) and all we would have to do is write the midget's name, class and subject on each one and that would be it.

So next time you are thinking of inventing a sticky, completely user-unfriendly product, think again, or I may just go postal on your arse!!

Yours faithfully

Mrs Outspoken

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Was down at the local pub.

"Let's go into Harringtons" was the call.

I was, typically, with all blokes.

Harringtons was an out of the way pub in town that brewed their own beers etc, one being Ngahere Gold, which has since been forbidden to be sold in kegs because a young guy died after drinking too much of it at once.

After a jug of Ngahere the memory of the night was gone.

Didn't remember leaving Harringtons with all me bloke buddies, didn't remember going to Fat Ladies which was on the other side of town.

Didn't remember getting hooked into a certain someone in the carpark outside Fat Ladies, who had a girlfriend and who always beelined for me when I was horrendously pissed.

First memory after arriving at Harrington's was me trying to kick the window of a car in the Fat Ladies carpark that closely resembled my own car. A couple of minutes until I realised it wasn't. Thank fuck I hadn't actually managed to break it.

Another couple of minutes of disorientation until I realised that I was in fact standing there in my bra with my trousers on.

Another 15 minutes of searching the carpark for my top, with no joy.

Oh shit, where is my wallet??

So, here I am standing in the middle of town at 2am in the morning, drunk, no top, no wallet and apparently - no car either!!!!

What can I do??

A passing couple decided to call me a cab.

Cab driver refused to take me anywhere as I had no wallet.

Can you call a friend??

Only person I knew that could help me out without killing me (eg no parents to be involved)was Linda.

Ring ring.

"If I bring this young lady to your house will you pay for her taxi upon arrival? She has no top on and no wallet"

Thanks Linda.

When I arrived at Linda's she wasn't too happy with me.

Why??

She was getting married in the morning.

Whoops!!!

Why???

Why do I feel and react like this?

Blair and I have had words this evening, as we all do.

It's been along a day, it's been a long week come to think of it.

Kids are fucken tired, I am fucken tired and I am not reacting very well.

I am reacting like I do when I am in bad depressed state.

A lot of things have come out of me this month emotionally.

Found Peta's birth dad, who knows nothing about her and whom I only knew by nickname, by pure accident on Facebook (fucken evil thing).

That caused a rift with Blair and I as he thought I was deviously doing something that affects the family behind his back - I wasn't.

Then a fellow blogger posted a terrible event in her life and it was spookily nearly the exact same thing that had happened to me when I was 17 and miscarried while breaking up with my boyfriend and the series of events that led me to throw myself in front of a car in drunken despair. It bought a lot of pain to the forefront again.

Just the every day shit of life is getting on top of me.

And I reacted to some tired cranky words from Blair with an hour's worth of crying and lying on my bed thinking of ways to kill myself.

Don't go spare on me, I often do this when I am depressed and tired. I don't follow it through, luckily I have my kids to pull me back to earth but my heart aches with despair and I just feel the urge for it to be way over!!

I have a fucked up head, am on antidepressants already. Being put under to be operated on as I was in November always fucks with my head. Supresses the nervous system making the neurons not transmit and spark the way they should.

Who gives a fuck about the anatomy of it all but I just have this leaden feeling that makes my brain think irrationally.

Arse shit whore bitch.

Sober Driver

There are many things that suck about being the sober driver, especially at a wedding. The atmosphere is always condusive to partying and that is not so much fun if you are sober. I did have 2 glasses of bubbly with dinner but that was it.

There are also many benefits.

You get to remember all that was said and done.
You get to dictate the terms a wee bit.
You have your husband forever in your debt for driving him and his extended family around until 4.30am.
You always get into the clubs as you don't look like you're drunk, because you aren't I suppose!!
You can still dance around and be a headbanger at the pub with the live band because everyone else, except the people you are driving, think you're drunk.
The people you are driving often forget you aren't drunk too.
You don't have to pay through the roof for a bloody cab.
You get to laugh your arse off at two of your husband's aunty's having a fight in the back of your vehicle (esp when they start calling each other cunts and threaten to punch each other's lights out).
You get to keep your wits about you around your husband's uncle who was released from jail a couple of years ago for violent rape (nice genetics there darling!!).
You get to wake up just feelng tired and not like you've eaten some woolen socks, have a fire inside your belly and a punk band inside your head.
You don't need the next morning crappy feed as you are quite happy with a light brekkie.


Then you go to the post wedding barbie and you are told by generous husband (of course nothing to do with seediness!!) that you can drink today and he'll drive.

So you have a bottle of bubbly, get tipsy immediately and want to carry on.
Then hubby decides to go diving with the groom and some cuzzies from the far north.
They are gone for 6 hours!!
So who sobers up very quickly to be in charge of her four offspring??

I still had a great time - absolutely brilliant wedding, powhiri the night before and barbie the day after. There was a lot of culture and love and the bride's extended family, all from north of Whangarei, were absolutely darling people. Genuine as hell and just considered you part of their family immediately.

I LOVE THAT!

What does your family do at weddings??