Novemeber 1

Today is my hearing date, for the divorce. It feels really strange that to get married one has to by law attend the event, (in some cases you can send a representative, you know, if you don’t like crowds, fancy clothing or cake) but when you get divorced you don’t have to. That seems strange to me.

So of course I did a little bit of googling, as you can see from the above picture. It’s a real one, a real company. No kidding. There are civil ceremony officiants that specialises in divorce ceremonies. I guess that works in a way, in a strange way I can understand that. People like ceremonies most of the time, we might not like funerals, but many find them comforting.

There are companies that are specialising in divorce parties, that seem a little callous. Maybe that is most appropriate if a divorce is acrimonious, as in a “hahhahaha good riddance” kind of way. (What favours would one choose for a divorce party, broken heart chocolates, a tote bag, lip balm with snazzy wording, I’m not sure what would be appropriate. Probably cup cakes, you don’t seem to be able to go wrong with cup cakes.)

But when it’s just a quiet fizzle, with periods of anger and resentment ending with a “To be honest, probably a good idea”, I’m not sure IF you are suppose to mark that and if so, HOW you are suppose to do so.

I have been thinking about it, quite a bit lately because I’ve stopped sleeping again. Not cause of the hearing and all, due to totally different concerns. But as I’ve been awake, you know, I might as well have think about things.

Other friends that I have that have gone through the same thing in the last couple of years, have bought something, like something substantial to mark the occasion, like jewellery or you know, something fairly expensive. That seems fair. But I wonder if I would look at that piece of jewellery as a positive precious thing, or if I would end up looking at it as a representation of failure.

I can’t get over the fact that I think of the divorce as somewhat of a failure. I’m not saying that everyone else has to think so, and most people are telling me that I’m wrong. But I don’t think I am. I don’t think failing at things is always bad, it just means that next time, and you’ll work harder at not failing at the same time. You are more aware, you are able to look at the thing you didn’t succeed at the first time, analyse them and decide when/what went wrong and then improve on it.

So maybe I would buy something, as a sign of willingness to improve in the future.

It could possibly be a cup cake.

(it's also Melbourne cup day, and I can't have a boozy lunch with a silly hat on my head, because I have meetings all night, and that is not right)

Again, I’ve been absent. Very much absent. I’ve not really kept up contact with many in any form. It’s poor form I know, the only excuse is that it got a bit much for while.

To many things to do, to many sad things happened, the person I wrote about previously who was ill passed away, that knocked me about for a bit. There where more things, other things in conjunction and it just got so much I went with the old
“If in doubt, observe radio silence”.

It’s better now, much more better, I’ve been focusing on driving a lot, unfortunately I didn’t pass my first test, cause I was trying to fix a kerb side stop, he made me stop in front of someone’s driveway, and I thought it was a trick, so I reversed back and apparently didn’t head check enough, that in combination with 3 others times of not head checking enough unfortunately pushed me over the limits of how many fails you’re allowed. So I’ll do it again, and I do right next time, head checking like nobody’s business. I went driving last night, I was head checking so much I over head checked and got dizzy. Got to find a middle ground, even amongst the head checks.

Other than that, my favorite day of the year is coming, and this year I’m buying myself a sewing machine. I will wrap it and get very surprised when I open it. I probably will say, “Ohh a sewing machine, how surprising”. Why am I buying a sewing machine.

Well, I’ve gotten into sewing again; so far I’ve made 3 cushion covers for the couch, and I want to make a Quilt. I know quilting is proper hard work. So before I start, I will make a couple of coasters by hand, to see if I will hate it 20 min in.

Want know why I want to make a quilt. It’s all due to this blogger.

That quilt is plainly awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome, so as I have no friends who quilt really, I figured, I’ll try it out myself. Probably not anything equally ambitious. Just something a little less, big and scary. And one day, when I’m big girl, I too can make a “Harry Quilt” that is awesome.

Drama-Orama

This week has introduced a lot of drama, some work related (something that happens in every work place), some very personal (lovely people getting sicker), finally getting he divorce papers into the courts (that has taken such a long time, as the Australian rules about this are weird), diss agreement with tax agencies (Yes, they are probably right, but I still don’t like the bill they’ve landed me with) etc etc etc…

So what have done with every single minute that I’ve had to spare; I have been stalking online fabric stores, of course.

My obsession has moved on from Eggs, which was good, because they started making me feel a little vobbly, with a hard shell to fabric. Lovely, brightly coloured, happy patterned fabric.

The reason I’m obsessing about it is that I have a wall panel planned for above my sofa, and it will be covered in fabric. I didn’t know there where so many fantastic fabric prints out there in the world.

Other then that, I have calculated so far in my life I have spent 45.8 days putting on mascara, realised that Hayfever is either proof that god has a weird sense of humour or possibly we (as in humans) are just the vehicle for DNA and not pretty useful, and finally that I really need to buy a new bed. One too many 4.30 am re-construction missions when for some reasons the slats decides to fall out the bottom.

So that is the week in full, drama, fabric and broken bed slats.

The weekend will be quiet, driving, buying Styrofoam, then going to the opera house to watch something disgusting about food and then more driving. That is it

The one benefit with tooth extraction

18 months ago I bought fabric to make pillow cases for my "Throw Pillows" for my couch. For 18 months these huge 25 inch square pillows have had some random white and blue pillow covers.

Finally on Sunday night, as I was trying to distract myself from the pain in my non longer there tooth, I hand sewed one pillow case, this one, it's pink on side and bright yellow on the other, it even has a bright yellow zipper.

I was hand sewing it ( I don't have a sewing machine anymore), while sitting on the couch, waiting for D to come home from work, watching a documentary called MEGA FACTORIES, about IKEA. Isn't that a nice 1950's view for ya! When D came home said my stitches where very even ( he might have had to be prompted to say that, but still, my grandmother would have been proud)

Did I mention the fabric is from IKEA. I love IKEA.

Pain and I don’t agree at all

In general I have a very high pain threshold, for everything except tooth ache. It’s the one thing I can’t deal with. The pain makes me panic.

This means I don’t like going to the dentist, this also then means that I really need to go to the dentist more often, and I only really go when I really really have to. Unfortunately I seem to be born with bad quality teeth, because I take better care of my teeth then most people I know. I brush and I floss and I do all the things they say I should, but I still have more trouble with my teeth then your average.

For example, 3 months ago I broke my tooth. I didn’t chip it, or you know snag it. No the thing broke in half, all the way down to the root of the tooth.

Now how could that have happened, well my uncle the dentist who is the first dentist that doesn’t scare the living daylight out of me has explained, that the dentist that I had in London had done a bad job on a big filling at the tooth so instead of working as a filling it was working as a wedge, prying the tooth apart little by little.

So, 3 months ago I ate a cracker, and the tooth came a part, actually split apart,, from a cracker, so I had a emergency patch job, until my uncle the dentist came back from holiday and I go and have it looked at. And what did he say, well the tooth had to come out.

And so it did this Saturday and I’m not a happy camper. He told me that on day two it would be more painful then day one, so I said fine. I can handle that, and you know what. NO I can’t, I can’t handle it, pain in my mouth/teeth makes me panic. All I’m doing right now is sitting waiting for another 15 minutes so I can take another lot of painkillers. The actual pain if left unattended makes me nauseous and aggressive.

This is not a good state to be in when at work. But I am afraid that if stand up and walk out, I might round kick someone that tries to talk to me.

And my lord that was one ugly tooth, even my uncle the dentist said so; he said I’m very happy that tooth is not in your mouth, because it’s one ugly tooth. An ugly tooth with delicate roots, which apparently it’s not a good thing for teeth.

I have named it Ruth the Tooth, it lives with Barney now, they can be ugly together.

Need new Rhino Skin

Sometimes things just pile up; it just ends up being so much sadness and pain that it feels like you have had your skin peeled of the body. Normally I’m pretty tough and can roll with the best of them; Rhino skin is truly needed when you do what I do.

At the moment, amongst all the great things that are happening there is overwhelming sadness in relation to someone who I love very very much, who is very sick. And it doesn’t matter how much I hope and pray that he will get better, he is still very sick and it doesn’t feel like it is progressing in the right direction. I hope that it will, that the information I will receive in the coming week will be more jubilant and more in the frame of “they where wrong all along, there is nothing wrong that a bit of vitamin C can’t fix”.

It gets more awkward and weird as it ends up being mixed up in the divorce, it’s a little like, this is a person who I have known for such a long time and hold very dear, but as with all divorces things gets split up, and you can’t take other people family members and make them yours however much you’d want to. Maybe I’m being silly, but I feel very lonely in my sadness, as no one that I know now, knows him.

So, it’s little like I have no skin, and in this particular case my sadness has no purpose. I can’t fix it, and I really can’t help, in the way that I could have had we not been getting divorced.

Time is just swirling past

Another weekend passed in a speedy haze, one minute is Friday afternoon and you think you are going to get so many things done over the next 48 hours and then suddenly you realise its Sunday night and many of your plans have failed yet again.

I used to be so controlled with my time, so organised, so structured; I have memories of feeling that I had to much time, that I got everything done (with the result of always being exhausted), and I’ve just realised that by being a little more chilled out, I also have to accept that with the comfort of not being continuously running about doing “stuff” I don’t get as much done.

This weekend is no different, I feel like I’ve done nothing. The main thing I did was eat, socialise and then I did some driving.

The Driving, well on Saturday I had a lesson with my instructor, he said I was good enough to book my test, I think I took that to heart too much because I went driving with D on Sunday and scared the living daylight out of him. I missed 3 stop signs and had to slam on the break because I didn’t see the red light turn.

I blame it on the principle of driving where you will be going, the first thing my teacher Peter said was, when you do you learning driving go where you think you will be going once you have your license. To often people do their learning driving in very safe, known streets. That wont help you when you get your license.

He said to go where other P-platers will go, like McDonalds drive thru; He then looked at me, muttered a little about maybe I was to old for that but the super market or the beach might be more appropriate for me. I then had to tell him about the last time I went to the McDonalds drive thru..(i.e. the giving of finger to lady hassling me in the car park when I stalled the car).I’m unlikely to go back.

Anyway, we drove to Bondi beach, on a Sunday, that was probably a sub optimal decision. Driving at Bondi is horrible, and it’s really really bad on Sundays. People milling about, not looking where they are going just randomly jumping out into traffic, pretty scary place for a learner driver. But that is just excuses for me driving badly and without concentration; D was not a happy passenger. I will have to tidy the up the driving, otherwise there will be no license, and Kurt (the car) and I will not be able to drive happily ever after.