Memories: 22 July 2025

22 July 2025

8:30 am Yippy Yi yo! Here we go! “Where we going, Mama T?” Nowhere Ville. But I have petrol so I could go somewhere if I chose to. “Mmmmk!”

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Watching “Treasure” on Prime video. Poignant and triggering. A Jewish father and daughter go back to Poland to visit Lodz where he was born. The family living in his original family’s apartment (stolen by the Nazis!) think they have come to take the property back. Harrowing.

The most powerful scene is when they arrive at Auschwitz-Birkenau and the father (played by Stephen Fry) shows the guide where the actual train tracks are, as he remembered where he was separated from his family as a child, standing in shit ankle deep.

Then his daughter finally understands why he refused to take the train and insisted on travelling there by taxi.

I too find it “difficult” to take trains which is odd as I was not born in Nazi Germany or in Poland…yet I have a similar “trauma activation”.

22 July 2024

1:27 am been in bed since 9 pm. Tonight has been a bloody struggle to maintain sleep. Up four times to pee already. (Which is annoying as I cut back on tea yesterday and drank lime, honey and hot water drinks instead.)

I have technically slept for 5 hours according to the cpap machine but that is not quite true. I have drifted back into full consciousness each time and have laid here like a floating mullet unable to reach REM.

Dammit. My sciatica is hurting badly too, also the bones in my legs. I thought I was improving after the previous night’s long rest and zero pee breaks.

Always one step forward, two steps back in psychedelic dreamer’s world. So frustrating!

I might as well make a cup of tea and give up the ghost and watch tv.

22 July 2023

3:23 am home from a lovely wild night of dancing. Exhausted but satisfied. I gave George a lift home as he was packing up as I was leaving.

Alter Egos were wonderful as usual. There was a lot of love in the Livewire bar. Good vibrations. How I like it!

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9:56 am I just awoke after only 6 hours sleep. Wow. Last night was wonderful. Everyone was joyous and loving. I realised during the evening that I was in a state of deep love for life, for my friend Scott the bass guitarist (whom is extremely talented and sexy and whom is however married to a beautiful talented woman also!) But it’s a safe carefully guarded and contained love that I deeply appreciate because it is so precious.

A woman approached me on the dance floor on my “spot” and said “He likes you a lot and you seem to like him”. Without looking at Scott, as I knew who she meant, as she and her friend had been zealously watching our infamous psycho-sexual smouldering ham…I replied flatly but kindly “Oh yes, I do like him also. We are friends and he is married to a beautiful woman. So you know. Not available!”

“Oh” she replied with disappointment. I was greatly touched by her wish for me to be having a grand romance. A rarity in that space which historically has always positively seethed with envy and at times malice and so much sabotage that I have never found a truly loving partnership in that space.

I noted her look of chagrin. I smiled kindly. “It’s just show business Honey, razzle dazzle illusion. But we are fond of each other. I have been dancing for this band for 12 years!” She went and sat back down with her woman friend. They muttered quietly together. Looking at me in amazement.

I was struck by the kindness that they seemed disappointed for me that I don’t have a love partner. But I bemusedly recognised the shift in consciousness that for once, just once, someone had witnessed the powerful agapé Love, our Muse, our spiralling entangled spirits and had wished for me…More. A Sweetness.

Another gorgeous, skinny Dame came along with her friend and they too danced near me. She told me Scott is sexy and she wanted him. The curse of being desirable, talented and charismatic! The Rock star treatment. I laughed. “He’s married…to a beautiful woman”…me again…carving out a protective space for my lovely friend.

She replied “I am married too but I don’t mind at all!” So I looked at her with a thinly veiled measure of disgust but leaned back, in my little writhing corner of hell-loop to quietly osmose the shenanigans. It was intense but kind of comedic.

Another regular arrived and moaned to me breathlessly about his biceps. “He is soo sexyyy”. “Uh huh” I replied. “Also sooo married” and by this time I started feeling like a gatekeeper hellhound at a gated gartered preciously guarded bordello somewhere in hell, (or in a heaven, where my gorgeous men remain forever distant and unavailable but kept in a prism of light and Love that I myself have created for them). Like one of those snow globes you shake up from time to time then carefully preserve on the shelf. Beautiful but a mirage.

Like a hologram, where all can see the reflection in the reflexive carefully protected ennobled love but no one can sully, sabotage or desecrate it.

Then I chilled the fuck out. My Magick is finally happening, drawing in The One and the prelude to the final requited and immense power of the actualisation of that long held psychedelic holographic mythic distillated but undevoured Dreaming, swirling in infinity …has finally landed.

I am loved. Really truly greatly loved. Valued and cherished. Protected and adored. By my beautiful (and handsome) soul friends who wish me only the very best and most delightful manifestations of desire, passion and Love. Who watch me each week, work my Magick to manifest a deep love that is untainted. After decades of ghastly horror. A purity and a distillation that only the gods can partake of and stay “sober”.

“Her bloods worth bottling, innit….aight!” Laughter in the spheres.

I am in love. With Life “L’Chaim” with my Magick, “abracadabra”, with my Muse. With my angels who reveal to me true hearts and minds, who cheer me on, (even that strange kind woman who saw the love between me and my favourite band as the music flows from their fingertips and vocal chords and swirls around us and I transport that energy around the room, and flow it right back to them in deep appreciation, honour and joy. We were all graced by it last night. The love and the bemusèd Muse.

I had told Scott about my ex lover, the dead Israeli terrorist homeopath and “his magnificent penis” last week when I met them as they were packing up after their gig at Irish Murphies. I laughed at my own ghastly horror. I had said “I don’t usually go around lamenting male genitalia but it’s a cracking story!”

Frankly I was probably soul ridden by that particular Dybbuk last week, as I was high on adrenaline and post-dancing fatigue. I even had to laugh at my random oversharing of that little vignette from the past, but it was triggered by Scott telling me that his wife is a homeopath. So that was the connection.

Anyway my dear friend leaned down to me not long after I arrived on my spot last night and said he had been thinking about “That magnificent penis” story all week. Hilarious. That’s why I love him. He gets my peculiar humour and sanguine sense of the absurd which is how I have (barely) survived my life!

I threw my head back and chortled “Ahhh, that arsehole” and we both laughed and the night was sanctified by a beguiling mischief and a sweetness as that was confirmation that he has my back. And I have his…and that my friends, is a true friendship and an honour. Delightful!

Oh, and just after I had put my cardigan on, and slipped my shamanic-looking turquoise blue bag over my shoulders, preparing to leave the Bar for the night, utterly exhausted…a lovely woman grabbed at me. “You can’t leave! Dance with me!”

She had earlier complimented me on my outfit (my red corset and black velvet maxi skirt). She exuded so much love and awe that I could not deny her. I said “Okay, one more dance”.

We danced to five more before I extricated myself from her! Hilarious! I yelled out “You are killing me…you are instigating my fifth wind and you know what happens when I hit the fifth wind!” I threw my head back and kinda howled.

She replied “I don’t wish to kill you, I wish for you to have a most beautiful night”. I looked into her eyes and saw deep love and sincerity there and my soul bloomed with her sweet sentiments. But I was conscious that I was already floating out of my body and I need to rein my Neshamah back in, as that is getting a little dangerous. So after the 5 extra songs I hugged her, told her she is gorgeous and I loved her.

Then I walked out to chat with George and my new homeless friend Theo. I told Theo quite sternly that he needs to fight for himself harder, given he only just got out of hospital two weeks ago. That he should have been assigned a social worker and the government should have fucking housed him, given how ill he is (and how fragile).

So he kept hugging me, in love with my empathy which is so carefully contained. By the gods it’s a disgrace as he told me he’s been harassed by police all week when he only just got out of hospital.

Who the fuck harasses an already marginalised and very sick man? Our Queensland government, that’s who! It’s truly evil what is going on but I am helpless to change that.

I told him to go to Cunterlink and raise hell. He needs suitable accommodation. ASAP! I noted that many of my other “homeless” friends are getting housed. So Theo, mate! Take your rights on this planet. Fight for yourself. Never let the bastards grind you down. Gods bless!

Mama T and her “Alter Egos”. I am still in an altered state from The Dance of Life. Don’t mind me!

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1:11 pm my liver is aching which is weird as I only had one Jack Daniel’s last night. Probably just exhaustion and too many fried foods this week. I will have to nurture myself more carefully.

It’s a glorious day. The dog just vomited (which is a concern!) but he is now observing the garden and Charley’s shenanigans. It’s warm so we are sitting in the sun, nourished by the quiet blissful afternoon.

I am happy. Peace.

22 July 2022

22 July 2021

22 July 2020

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I have had to block three weirdoes on Instagram. I suspect they are new accounts made by the same weirdo that was using an American guy’s photos but clearly was a non-English speaker.

I don’t know why they keep Following me on Instagram. I am not interested in internet dating. Hell I don’t even date in real life.

These creeps get really desperate when you call them out on their bullshit. It’s a tad disturbing, actually.

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11:11pm. It’s not like anyone else is as mad as I am? Innit? A quote from Mrs Chipper. The lady who steals chunks of Rock and granite from famous landmarks for her “collection”.

A message from my angels: stay cool til After school!

I am actually quite knackered after finishing off polishing the copper in the kitchen and washing and polishing my beaded curtain as well.

I still have the copper in the front entry and bathroom to do.... I smell of smoke as I spent the day burning the lime tree branches as I finally gave it quite a hard pruning and also burnt lots of leaves that had fallen.

My arms ache, my legs ache but I feel mellow and content after all the physical labour. I have been in a very strange mood for the past month and upset myself this morning dealing with some putrid vile creep who accused me of being an Amelekite and an antisemite because I stated Israel is standing in her own excrement for harbouring, protecting Paedophiles in particular the 68 court sessions it has so far taken to deal with the lecherous demonic bitch Malka Leifer.

It is rather confounding that I could be called these things when I am not the one raping children? So it just goes to show how deeply profoundly perverted these people who moonlight on child abuse forums really are: worse than trolls!

Also the joke is on Bellend Bellini as after all, whether he likes it or not, I am Still a Jew.

22 July 2019

2:45 am. I had a lovely day/evening yesterday but now I am paying the price with insomnia and reflux. I am itchy too. What a ridiculous life!

Might as well make a cup of tea and read a book. Except I am tired. Nuts!

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Just saw 9:11. Also saw 6:11, 7:11, 8:11.

So many elevenses.

What mischief, mayhem, magic, is the universe up to this evening? While the psychedelic dreaming undeadable Tanya lounges on her couch?

Only the gods can know. Time for a cup of tea methinks.

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11:11 pm. Make a wish

22 July 2018

Last night I went dancing at the casino with Jenny. I had not been there for three months and I am still angry about the abuse I encountered there.

However, it was bitterly cold last night, we went to the city by bus (the driver had aircon on the bus so it was even more freezing!) and by the time we hit the city, intending to catch the city glider to go the Elephant hotel for the 90s night being played by Alter Egos, Jenny suggested we go back to the casino and I desperately wanted to pee, so well, it happened.

We had a good night. I don’t really feel comfortable there anymore but we stayed and I eventually got into my zone of dancing (and hamming) to my favourite songs. A few of the regulars were happy to see us and asked where we had been? I replied “Exploring other options!” rather diplomatically.

We left at 2 am. I fell into bed at 3 am utterly exhausted from 2 nights out dancing.

I got woken up by the handsome but creepy Pacific Islander tree lopper man at midday. He raps all along the timber supports of my house as he ascends my stairs (like a creepy stalking pianist - loves his wood, he does) so I threw on my dressing gown (barely awakening from another ptsd dream about my mother) and lurched to my front door.

“All right” I yelled “coming”. Frigid, fierce with my hair in a mad medusa bed style and a rising temper to match. I look out my door to see tree lopper guy. “You have woken me up and no, I don’t want my trees lopped.” Sleazy but disappointed grin in his face. “Oh ok”.

(I have a sign on my front gate which clearly delineates ‘No hawkers, no proselytisers, no trespassers, no psychic vampires’. I shut the door, thinking about how if I had a man here or a shotgun, that that idiot would not dare disturb my peace!

Maybe he can’t read? Maybe that’s why he’s a treelopping woman-harassing pest?! Or maybe he is as thick as bilge water and gets off on waking women at midday. I soothe my ire. It’s Sunday. It’s midday. But who the hell goes selling their wares on a Sunday noon?!

If I had been more awake I would have remembered his melodic modus operandi of hammering along my house instead of knocking on the front door like a normal human. Then I would have ignored his knocking completely.

Argggghhhhh. Not. Getting. Out. Of. Bed today. I quickly let the chooks, and Charlie out of their cages. So they can have freedom in the garden.

Scoffed down porridge I re-heated in the microwave. Hurled my body back to bed. Bliss.

…

Right! Mama T is out of bed. Showered and purged of dreck and dross. Ready to face the Hag and seize the day.

Running thoughts tell me I am a tad hypomanic (from dancing too much and pushing my haggard obstreperous sleep apnoead knock-kneed hobbit body beyond her usual sendentary existence) and it was exquisite, it was formidable, it was fierce but now I must accept my limitations for a few days and prepare for another supercharge next weekend.

Silly old chook, innit?

I absolutely love my life now. It is a miraculous blossoming.

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Hungry as a horse!

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22 July 2017

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It's another glorious spiritual day. Hold on to your horses, People! I just saw 1.01 and this morning, 11.01 on 22 July. 11 and 22! Master (Mistress!) numbers. 11s are synchronous guideposts from our angels.

I am yet to discover what this means for me today but I am awake and aware.

Shema Yisroel! I Hear and I obey. Oh Adonai. Amen.

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Five months until my kid comes home. I am looking forward to seeing her again! I wonder what she will make of her mother and her new version of herself?!

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Somebody should bottle up this spectacular day and keep it precious for the future days that will be too hot or too sad or just icky.

"I'm in love with the Shape of you! I'm in love with this Body".

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Last night was beautiful. I danced with my beautiful soulful Aboriginal friend, Lolly who was grieving the suicide of her nephew. I said "Oh Lolly, that is awful. But I almost did the same, but here I am! So let's celebrate our life!"

Something strange and magical happens when we give ourselves and other people permission to Live! In their own essence. Free! We all went completely Off!

Later I went over to dance with my Asian transgender friend. She was delighted. "Do that thing where you part your legs and sorta writhe!"

I wear big skirts so I have freedom of movement from hips to knees haha. She tried to show me that Warrior-squat-pose I do but she had a short dress and no leg room.

I laughed. I performed for her! She laughed. I said "You are the most beautiful girl in the room tonight and I am, you know, I am not quite sure what I am but at times too much Man!" We giggled salubriously.

She grabbed our very short Asian friend Luke and pressed him into her voluminous breasts. I laughed. "Oh god" quoth I, "now he will not sleep tonight and he will expect that treatment all the time." Luke giggled too.

Shani tried to get me to bury Luke in my breast too, but I would have none of that. So instead I pushed my fat belly into him and gyrated pelvically, setting my middle eastern belt into a clutterous cacophony.

Then Nibor, my dwarf stalker friend, came along and as is his wont (he rarely speaks English) gesticulated to Luke and then to himself and laughed at me, as Luke (although not technically a dwarf is short in stature too, and so am I and we looked funny pressed up against Shani who is tall and very slim but with a chest that could take an eye out. Gods Love her!

Lolly came to join in, and told me she is very impressed with me and has much respect for me (as I do her! Lovely lady!) Her family danced around with me and we were all on our 5th Wind and the wind-ups were hilarious.

I stood on some young guy's foot. (It would have hurt but why was his foot positioned so damn close to me???) I quickly apologised. Foot pain is horrid!

He gave me a larrikin grin which I found enchanting (handsome young fella!) so I followed up with "You know, Darling, me stepping on your foot is about as much intimacy as you and I will ever have but again, I do apologise!" He laughed out loud and his eyes sparkled and I was smitten and pleased to be forgiven.

Chutzpah!!! In strange places, with strange faces, we find our tribe, and our vibe and we choose to thrive. Staying alive. Saturday night fever? Omg. Somebody slap me. I need to snooze before I lose my mind.

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I was not going to go out last night. At all. I skipped Ecstatic Dance (which I do enjoy!) and settled in for the night, preparing to snuggle with my dog and cats on the couch with a tv remote in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Karen rang me and we both decided to die (vege out on a wintry night on our disparate couches).

But magic happened as it often does in The Tanya's world and out into the night she went. Boots on, corset on, hair flying, gussied, trussed and tormented.

Choose Life! Choose Life. Let's Dance. Another lover from long long ago, gnawing on his roll your own cigarette, his skin permeating marijuana and champa flower essence, his seductive reptilian eyes mesmerically smiling into hers. "Get off your psych meds! Eat healthy, Dance."

She had wanted to believe in him. The man she adored, with a remedy for every occasion. Champa flower incense, Nana tea (mint tea with cardamom - an aphrodisiac), pulsatilla for my already flagging dragging womb, Tub M, staphisagria (which gifted me a psychosis!) kali iod (for what?), even the Health Rights Commission discovered he had used unusual remedies for my healing, unusual even by another homoeopath's professional opinion.

Ultimately who was the Healer? Who took the remedy and transformed it in her very own body and mind and healed. Healed. Fucking healed. The womb was surgically removed 8 years later. No amount of Pulsatilla was ever going to heal that.

He had pulled out all stops in his quest to "heal" her. Even strangled her. 'Cos nothing makes a person choose Life like bring slaughtered by a psychotic Homicidal maniac, crying a river over his beautiful indigenous children not being accepted by Chabad.

So I healed him. "Your children are Jewish by patrilineal descent in Reform Judaism. Grow some balls and get them their Bnei Mitzvoth." He followed through on my sage pragmatic advice.

But the Soul Knows its own time and its own Rising and Shining.

My children (my stolen generation, stolen by lying cheating phallic fumbling fools - lost to this body that would not contain them). But I have many loves now. No one fucks with me. I have been used and despoiled enough.

But I got up from my long zombie sleep and I did not just walk, I danced and at times I flew (in the face of Love itself-a horror in 3 acts -the Davids). No accidents in the universe.

They came to me for a reason. Or I was brought to them. Laid low. Raised myself up high. Hollered into cosmic knavery and emotional slavery and faced off the slobbering dogs of Fate.

So you know, last night, in full performance artist's delight. I look up to see "the galaxy" that mad creepy Morroccan dude I met at Lefty's a few months ago, had found me at the casino. Omg! I was utterly aghast.

I was at that point in time hamming it up with my dwarf friend from Dubai, laughing hysterically at the smooth way he had rebuffed the attempted advances to seduce him into aussie mateship of a young drunk white Australian guy.

My dwarvish friend sidestepped him with nary an expression on his poker face and Aussie dude aimlessly fist pumped the air and did a little jig to cover his embarrassment. Slick but not so fast as The Tanya was one-handedly fending off drunken predators of her own and my dwarf friend and I shared a great laughter at our smooth moves and clever avoidance of inappropriate advances.

Thankfully "the Galaxy" stayed away. Phew! But with that token I found only 9 days ago from Galaxy World and that lunatic arriving last night I am aware that the message is clear. The Galaxy wants me to be ready for the next adventure. Hopefully it is not yet another spiralling descent into depression or death.

But I am ready. I had the remedy all along. Laughter, dance and a powerful Love that blew my own mind and fuses. Infused me with a strength and a determination and a fierce independence.

I am my own greatest joy and my own creation. Blessed Be!

22 July 2016

6.33 am. The neighbourhood is shrouded in a heavy fog. My lungs are straining and complaining but I am up, sucking on Ventolin and Seretide and drinking tea and taking photos of the mist.

It is forecast to be another warm day. In the middle of winter.

What a climactic dichotomy! No wonder I am going out of my mind. But looking forward to more sunshine today. Hopefully enough to dry the paper I made yesterday.

Only four hours sleep which will make me even more hypomanic than usual. Think I will just lay back home and pretend I am dead. But after 20 years of zombie-ism even that ship has sailed.

Possibly years of insomnia to look forward to if I keep living that long. All very inconvenient. I need quality of life not dragging my carcass through in quiet (or ostentatious! Depending on my mood) desperation for the remains of my days (and nights!)

What to do?!! Wring hands, get old, keep breathing and try to catch the next wave.

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Beauregard was a very naughty acting out boy during the early hours of the morning. He shat in the lounge room and peed on the box of my desktop computer! Nasty brat.

Mama had spent hours making recycled paper and then at night taking photos of stuff for her online store, so in his doggy brain she had to be punished. Then he woke me up at 10.45 am (just under 3 hours sleep) as if he is awake I must be awake also. Grrrr!

Maybe I am also in the dog box as I didn't take him to the dog park yesterday. Fur realz!! One day missed??? One fricking day!? I have another control freak New World Leader in a fur coat on my hands. What is it about me and sociopaths?

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So The Beau's next trick (unsolicited of course!) was to climb on top of the outdoor table and stomp all over my still very wet paper. I lost 5 sheets by the second that I realised he was sabotaging 4 hours of my work from yesterday. Big muddy paw prints! (That'll learn ya Mama! For treating me like a dog and not a god!)

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Time to lay down again. Exhausted!

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Shabbat Shalom! On a bus to the city. Time to Daven!

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Shule was pleasant (how pleasant are your tents, oh Jacob, your dwelling places, Oh Israel.) Rabbi Jaffe was very welcoming. I met a lovely lady, a Baal Teshuvah - coming back to Judaism after 40 years. Wow. She invited me to join her Singles Group, which was very kind of her.

It was rather odd how as long as the last song Yigdal was sung, all the men evacuated the shule. Only we two women were left chatting and we did not hang back for long.

It was like they ran like rabbits from The Tanya. Lmao! I am sure it was not personal or deliberate although the caretaker gave me a long harried look. Locked us out asap. Lol! So Vikki and I talked a bit longer on the street.

Now eating dinner at Jackpot Noodles and awaiting Terina who offered to come dancing with me, to meet me in the city.

22 July 2015

10.11 am. Nasty fever. I just took panadol and drank coconut water with orange juice and honey to rehydrate.

Bitterly cold and foggy day outside. I will stay in bed. Nice and warm. Too warm, actually.

…

…

Today I went to look for eggs and was surprised and bemused to discover a very big Tabitha or Elvira egg in the wooden nest in the Silkie coop. Like, talk about a take-over bid! I had to chuckle to myself as even the silkies rarely lay in the boxes. So funny.

Tonight I caught the big girls trying to go to bed in the silky coop as well, which meant the little rooster and the 3 hens were terrified to go to bed. So I literally had to chase the big hens out, and send them to their own metal coop.

I am thinking it's been so cold they actually might be willing to share the body heat with all the other little chooks but I can't trust them not to beat them up. I topped up their straw beds and covered the open lattice with a tarp to try to cut out some of the rain and dampness and wind. Poor little buggars!

…

Crystal's little blow heater thingy cut itself out. Bloody hell. I felt like sitting in lounge for a change. So here I am back in my cocoon, on my electric blanket, still running a fever and still cold as Hell Frozen Over.

Happy though. Hurdy gurdy whirligig ride, dealing with disappointments, liars, cheats and bores. But I am used to be thrown away like toilet paper. I will not let any man take my happiness or my safety or my freedom. The price (my sanity) is simply too high.

I tell you what, I bounce back real fast these days, like a cat on a hot tin roof. I also observed how calm I remain in the face of humiliation. Old me would have torn hair out. His hair. I guess it's nice to be a mellowed out loveless old bag that no one ever really wanted. I even said, “Hey I've been alone for 20 years. Nothing fazes me”.

It is sad that I am so used to being the cosmic joke. Really sad. But hey… G-d brought me to this season and I got to experience something I had never experienced before with anyone. Intimacy.

Now I will run free again, my hair flying in the wind and dance the dance of the Revivified. Although I told my male friend I will have to cut back on that as dancing both nights for 12 hours means I am physically, mentally exhausted and violently ill for the next 4 days.

He said “Well, you do dance like a demon possessed”. I said “Yeah I know. It scares people but I don't give a shit. I do what I like, whatever, as long as it's not hurting anyone”.

Anyway seriously with this fever, and the accompanying chills I doubt I will be back in my boots, in my corset, wild and free by Friday. It could happen but not likely. I think I will just look after ME for a change.

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…

Saturday was one of happiest days in my life. Now it's all gone. Left with shadowy memories. C'est la Vie. Je ne regrette rien!

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Some days I just have to remind myself to Breathe! I got this!

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Off to do battle with the supermarkets! This time I need food. Grrr!

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Coles express has only paid me back half the money they defrauded me on 7 July. I have been chasing Dispute Resolution at my Commonwealth Bank for 3 days now. Finally got hold of them.

I spoke to a rude arrogant man named Michael who told me he had done me a favour, this was my 3rd Dispute (???) with same company and I would have to chase up Coles Express. I told him he had clearly made a mistake in not noticing the initial $150 was included in original debit of $204 which included the bond and ute hire and that he had only paid me back the second amount which was also debited. They owe me $300.

He started yelling at me that I had to go to Coles Express. I said "Why would I want to? They are thieves! This has put me in hardship for 2 weeks and your logic is absurd that they don't owe me $300".

So he smugly realised what a fucking idiot he sounded and passed me on to Customer Relations. I complained about his shitty attitude, rudeness and epic stupidity. The woman opened yet another file.

I have a sneaking suspicion I will never get that money back. It is disgusting how I have been treated by both Coles Express and the Commonwealth Bank.

On top of it all I am very ill. I just should not have to deal with all this shit. Far Fucking Out.

22 July 2014

Busy arvo. Got up at 2 pm. Took cats to the vet. Some bimbo made an appointment for me at wrong vet. Spent ages demanding I see the vet I made an appointment for. Then they wouldn't take payment over the phone so I paid. Poor Sally and I put through unnecessary stress!

I was getting very triggered as my former Vet negligently killed my precious Bella. The new Vet was kind to me and the cats when we finally got to see him between surgeries!

All sorted now. Phew! Cats are in good health but I need to give them chicken wings for their teeth.

Then I raced to Murarrie to pay my hairdresser. Then drove in a storm to get to Capalaba Produce to buy grain and shell grit for the hens.

Tonight I am going out with Jo to listen to Woody play. Now sitting down and chilling

:-)

22 July 2013

My home city is being shaken and stirred. I wonder if my undead sister was affected! Last earthquake they had several years ago, I rang concerned for their safety only to get a nasty call back from Angela accusing me of flirting with my brother in law (WTF? Whom I have known since I was 4!) and got told not to call them again when she was out of the country (Wtf? Like I was supposed to know that at the time).

Soooo I won't call Dead sisters or their kin. I hope Karma bites them on their paedo-enabling arseholes.

Meanwhile....stay safe everyone else and Rock and Roll in those amazing shimmy shaking buildings that sway to the beat of the shaky isles.

I had a shitty day, no money, no luck, no love, but I did have fun with the "girls" and got home to an invite to see a movie tomorrow night!

Thank G-d for my Steal Family! You know who you are! Love, love, love you!

Update 2020: a reminder why Dead Sisters Don’t Cry. The dirty savages!

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Fml! Went to bed after a hot bath, thoroughly exhausted. Now awake again 2 hours later with Insomnia. Lucky I have several awesome books to read.

22 July 2012

So I'm home from Greenbank RSL. Weird night. Some Dude cracked onto my friend and wouldn't take No for an answer so I told him she was with me and to back off lol. He didn't like being told No so we kind of left not long after that.

I am just amazed at the nerve of some men. Other than that we had fun dancing. Needless to say, I didn't meet anyone myself but we had fun playing Pool earlier in the evening with an old guy and his son.

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I had $4 to my name. So I went to Cannon Hill shops with Jarrod, who kindly paid for my lunch and I purchased with my $4, 2 little wooden toy key rings, one a matrushka and the other Pinocchio to hang off my handbag, cos I’m still a child at heart and my inner 5 year old wantzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz it.

I also bought for my 47 year old practical brain, a vegetable peeler as I can't find my other one and it's really hard to peel carrots without one, and a set of 6 skewers that would make a really good murder weapon but will be utilised as a metal stick holder upper thingy for my garden toys which have rotted out and need to be implanted in pots...cos my 5 year old wantzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz it.

So the moral of this story is....I will do what I will do, whenever, whatever as long as there is $4 and a One Dollar Discount shop in my immediate vicinity....wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

22 July 2011

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Just remembering how cute I was at the jeweller's today, when my darling Lyn asked how my belly piercing was shaping up after first week, so I primly turned my back on my favourite Jeweller and his 2 male apprentices, lifted up my shirt and showed Lyn! So funny but so mental.

The hilarious thing was Bill is so used to my eccentricity that he laughed (didn't see it anyway!) but a lady at the front counter didn't know whether to laugh or cry! I'm awesome!

I told her, it's all good, looks a bit red, but not sore, itchy or infected and I really think the Titanium was the trick cos I was allergic to everything else. To which the poor but intrigued lady nodded sagely, and said "I agree!" like a piercing Pro!

Update 2020: Bloody thing grew out too! Now I have a gall bladder operation scar on top of the old belly piercing scars. Not pretty! Ohhhh welll...whatever! At least I tried!

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Then I came home and was going to have a nap cos I am so tired, (I went out last night after gardening all afternoon, and had blueberry pancakes with chocolate sauce and Ice cream at the Pancake Parlour with Crystal and Jarrod) but I must have overdone it cos I feel exhausted but I rang my lawyer to check on progress, and had a laugh cos only 3 minutes earlier, he'd emailed me. Talk about ESP lol.

On the legal front, things are progressing nicely. Fingers crossed things get resolved quicker than I thought and I get enough money to buy a car, or a bed, or a tv lol....buggar it...Manifest Maximus....my house, then a car, bed, tv and a holiday. Might as well be greedy and aim high for a change as I'm worn out from expecting and getting less, and lesser LOL.

22 July 2010

I spent the day with Courtenay and we went to Manly Beach and walked Miss Bella who was extremely happy to be living a lovely doggy day. I bought two bags of Spent Mushroom Compost for my garden. I think I am getting a tad obsessed with gardening.

I suppose it's a healthier addiction than scoffing chocolate and hot chips every day. I wish I wasn't so tired all the time so I could do more, gardening I mean.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons