oh hey.. it’s fucking 1am and I can’t sleep
I’m craving a peanut butter and honey sandwich so fricken bad right now, I’d give pregnant crack whores a run for their money ..
So i was laying in bed, thinking about how I should get up and make this sandwich as it might in fact make me fall asleep, and then I began thinking about how many calories might be in that sandwich which wasn’t brought on by the fact that I had just finished sighing over Emily Ratjkowski’s hotness …
Yes… She Is THAT chick from THAT film clip..
you know, and the reason that I was looking at her Facebook page was because a crush I’ve had for over 10 years just happened to like it..
Seriously life has been made much worse since the invention of Facebook.
I know exactly what kind of girl my crush likes – and fuck me.. but I do not have the time or money to waste on lip fillers or breast implants let alone going to a GYM… i mean .. who does that shit?
ok.. people who care.. .. and that’s just not me…
See i’m on this spiral at the moment, where life is handing me a fuck load of lemons and I ain’t got no pastry and sugar to make me some sweet lemon tarts..
In fact, I actually have like cuts all over my metaphorical lemon loaded body, so it’s stinging even more than it should.
Oh? you thought this blog was going to be motivating and up lifting and inspiring… well guess what… FUCK YOU SOCIETY! I DON’T HAVE TO BE HAPPY AND YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!
On another note, I should quickly mention that I am aimlessly failing at my 100 days of happy challenge.. just putting it out there.. it is FUCKING HARD TO BE HAPPY 100 DAYS IN A ROW WHEN YOU ARE BEING PEGGED BY WATERMELON SIZED LEMONS !!
Ok, so where did this begin?
Well let see.. I got my heart broken (shutup .. I know I said I was fine, but after two months of bawlling my eyes out every time I get drunk.. I think I have accepted that I am just NOT over it just yet…), I got sick…and… well that’s about it… So I mean in the realm of possibilities and worldwide catastrophes, my life is NOT THAT BAD… but let me explain to you, why it actually in fact is.
1. I Got My Heart Broken
So a couple of months ago, literally just after it happened, I wrote about how fucking optimistic I was at what the future would hold, how I knew he was making a mistake, how blissfully happy I was to be single.
What we call that, children, is positive re-inforcement or .. that other set of words that my brain fails to remember just when I need it but will fucking remind me while I’m in the middle of taking a shit at 6pm the next night… (thanks Dick Brain!). Point is, I kept trying to be happy, I kept forcing myself to be happy and social and date and move on and the truth was, I just wasn’t ready to. After spending many a night calling my best friend in tears, asking WHY? Why can’t I be overly attracted and head over heels in love with the smart, sexy, Greek God, guitar playing, engineer who is ready to settle down? Why am I not getting butterflies? What the FUCK is wrong with me when he is literally EVERYTHING i want in a guy, and yet I’m still in love with a guy who could barely count to ten… (ok that’s a bit harsh.. )
Her answer, ‘You’re not ready to move on’.
I am stubborn.. and hate being told to be patient or any other ‘let yourself heal’ bullshit, so told this wise and mythical love goddess – “YOU ARE IN FACT WRONG! I WILL PROVE IT TO YOU BY SLEEPING WITH THIS GUY”.. and then crying all the way home on the phone to you for an hour… and then having major sexual withdrawals and body image issues ever since…
So thanks for that dick brain… that was an awesome move… Now.. If I can stop having erotic dreams about Greek Gods, that’d be fantastic too..
2. I Became Best Friends With A Dry Cab Sauv
Then! I decide to get drunk, ALOT .. .and not only try and call every single one, bar the last, of my exes for some kind of ‘explanation’ as to why I am so unlovable, but quite willingly put myself out there again to be used and abused by the same terrible exes…
Another phone call with the best friend went along the lines of,
“But what if I was wrong? What if he is THE ONE and maybe we needed to break up and spend time apart so that we could grow as people… and now.. it’s the right time and we are ready to settle down..?”
Wise and mythical love goddess returned with, “Bek… he didn’t make you cum in 6 months.. he still has no job.. he still thinks naming a child after a Lord of The Rings Character is a good idea… he is NOT THE ONE”…
(in case any of my exes/exes friends read this – this is not just one guy – this is actually based on a couple of guys and some exaggerated traits for the purpose of getting a point across to an intoxicated female).
Ok – point taken, next stop LESBO-VILLE!
I don’t know when, why or how – but my tinder is suddenly full of really not attractive lesbians … and vagina pics…
I don’t know why I always reach this conclusion, but it’s as if I decide there is no way in hell I could ever date another man, so I might as well plow the carpet…
Which, never lasts past ‘hello’, but the thought is there.
However, my dear friend Cab Sauv and I had a very eventful night… I attended a friends hens night (who happens to be marrying one of the exes best friends.. ok so like that’s how we met – but I’m totally claiming her in the divorce…) and oh HELLO exes other ex gf is there too (which I kinda expected) but then there also seems to be NO ONE LEFT IN MACKAY WHO DOES NOT KNOW HIM which is fucking awesome…
I spent the whole night questionning what the other ex was thinking of me (hey because you know, he fell in love with her and told me he could never fall in love with me)
and then spent the remaining parts of the night being told how much of a douche bag he was, how lucky I am to be single, how miserable he will be rah rah rah…. all the usual bull shit, people tell you to hope that you will move on and be fine… but really just ends up with you questioning why you dated someone who was clearly blind and stupid…
The next part is the best part… after consuming too much alcohol, spending money on pokies in spite of him (he loved them and I HATE THEM) and then deciding I in fact want to smoke, I run into him…
I’m so Pretty … Oh So Pretty.. I’m So Pretty and Wity and …
I don’t really remember much after that apart from pushing a plastic penis in the groom-to-be’s face and asking him if he liked it in and around his face, and then basically making out with every single girl in sight… yep… I even somehow met up with my Greek Guitar playing God, and somehow still decided it was better to make out with chicks? In turn, I caused a lot of pain and hurt to someone who I care about alot and felt very fucking stupid .. so I decided to walk home.
when I say home, I mean like 3ks down the road…
that was only because I couldn’t find a taxi driver who would take me home because I was too drunk and they were scared I was going to vomit…
I finally found a taxi driver to take me home, and on the way back to my house, contemplated asking him for his hand in marriage… He was from Punjab… his parents are putting pressure on him to get married.. I was horny and love sick..
Don’t worry – I’m still single… and still horny..
After waking up the next day and realising how bad I had behaved, I went to find my car keys and ALAS they have escaped me. My only pair of car keys are no where to be found… and I therefore have to get my car towed, $400 + new keys cut $550 .. so it is safe to say that is the MOST EXPENSIVE HENS NIGHT I HAVE EVER BEEN TO! both in my dignity and … cash..
3. I Got Sick… Not Fully Sick..
So … Tuesday morning rolls around… I’m awake at 3am…
Worst stomach pains EVER… like … not even a kiss better from Gerard Butler would fix this shit.
Go to work anyway, cos I’m hardcore like that…
Comes to about 2pm .. pain is excruciating… go to doctors..
‘Are you pregnant?’
My first thought is “I got laid and didn’t even remember/enjoy it??!?”
My second thought is “Oh… that’s right… I ended up shutting that out of my memory because I’ve never had someone laugh at me during sex…”
My third thought is “what did the doctor ask again, and why is she staring at me like I’m meant to respond?”
“Oh.. umm no.. .I mean.. I don’t have a partner… so umm no” Yeah that makes fucking sense you knob, because you’re clearly the virgin mary and don’t have sex out of wedlock. She calls the ambo’s immediately, pretty sure it’s my appendix and gives me a shot of morpheine.
Then she proceeds to ask if there is any way I could be pregnant…
This time my thought process is a bit shorter, but I tell her again, “No…” and leave out the ‘i don’t think so’ because that would require explanation…
Turns out, the pregnancy test they did came out positive….
FML ..
Second one turned out negative… now either the first was a faulty test or that foetus killed itself at the first chance it had before being associated to me and my trainwreck of a mind/life within its first futile moments..
Fastforward ==> Hospital ==> Public ==> Not one single mildly attractive doctor ==> everyone keeps fucking poking my belly asking me, “Does this hurt” whilst I’m whincing/crying…. “nah it’s fine bro” ==> get asked twenty more effing times if I could be pregnant — are you not in the medical profession for a reason? Instead of constantly reminding me of my shitty sex life, how about you just do some tests that require no communication.. thanks ==> get appendix taken out ==> also have a ruptured ovarian cyst ==> alive – life is good…
So I’m less of a woman now…
I’m missing my appendix..
I have three little scars from where they cut me open..
I am sore..
The only positive I can take from having my appendix removed is my addiction to pain killers is being satisfied! WINNNING (i’m joking kids…) They actually tried to discharge me just on Panadol… are the health cuts THAT BAD that you can remove an organ from someone but only provide them with low range pain relief???
Now, I have to take two weeks off work – which is like all of your annual sick leave (on most Australian employee agreements) in ONE GO and.. I’ve only been working for this company for three months, so I get unpaid two weeks off work… because I already used my sick leave last month when I was told I just had ‘gastro’ (turns out my appendix was like exploding you dumb mofo)… so I’m broke.. without a car.. .can’t afford to get my car back… suck at life and am refusing to let a perfectly amazing guy into my life because of my dick brain..
On the plus side – since I already had this surgery before, they cut over one of the old scars, and the new scar kinda intercepts and makes it look like a have secondary small vagina below my bellow button/pouring out of it.. So I got that going for me… which is nice…
