Memories: 6 April 2025

6 April 2025

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I may have to take myself off to the Mater either today or tomorrow. (I worry about Sunday public transport being problematic, also there will be more specialists etc on duty on Monday).

My bladder issues are getting rather scary. Three weeks of battling with it. So I think it’s time I grew a spine and asked for the Botox treatment that I have tried hard to avoid as I fear it so much. (Risk off retention, and general anaesthesia every 6-12 months).

Frankly, I am terrified. But the Mater nurse promised me they will take good care of me if I get frail or vulnerable…and here we are.

I have three teeth that probably need pulling also, as they died last July. So enough suffering. Time to get things sorted.

I guess I could take a bus into the Mater this morning ish, then if they keep me in for a long time, (for tests etc), get a taxi home. I also absolutely fear hospitals due to historic pernicious systemic abuses. But I have no choice left.

The Mater promised they will give me proper care. I will have to trust in the gods and a Catholic hospital that might ironically have more compassion and respect for this crazy Jewish witch shaman than the PAH or QE2 did.

I just worry that if I go today they will have only minimal staff on to assess my bladder issues so perhaps tomorrow will be a better day to rock up to the ED department or urology department. Gahhhh. This constantly trying NOT to die shit is grinding my gears. Can we say…Zombie!

I danced wildly last night. So I can’t be dying just yet. …seriously!

6 April 2024

2:47 am home from a wonderful night of dancing at the Brooklyn Standard. Mama T is exhausted but replete. I got to work out my mojo and reintegrate my meridians.

Some lovely couple gifted me two champagnes which was a little bit dangereuse as wine or champagne notoriously gets me drunk! So I rarely drink that when I am out. But I danced even more wildly and vigorously and held my own as per usual.

Alter egos were fabulous as usual. Feeling much loved and valued! xxxx

Oh and interestingly, after much anxiety on the parts of both Lyn and Robyn warning me of a deluge, I packed my umbrella then accidentally left it in my car when I walked to Brooklyn Standard. The weather gods were kind and didn’t even spit on me. Yayy!

I was lucky not to get soaking wet like used to happen regularly. 🙂

6 April 2023

Oh my goddess. A Pesach miracle. Someone from Macleay Island is coming to buy my Living Dead dolls on Tuesday! So this means I will have the money to fix my brakes.

Far out. I am a bit sad to part with the dolls but I need my car to be operational more than fripperies around the house.

Gratitude to my angels and the fae who have obviously heard me grinding my own gears with worry.

I hope this person is genuine and the sale goes through. But she seems keen.

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https://youtu.be/tsGCBwVQZG0

6 April 2022

Dear friends who are of the mystical, paranormal, psychic, alternative persuasions: Mike Cavalli and Dr Lynda Rae Cramer kindly aired my “Angel” experience video this evening.

I think you will enjoy this show. I am deeply honoured and grateful that my contribution was so valued and also edited by Mike Cavalli. It was a lot of work for Mike as we all know I tend to ramble on quite a bit in my storytelling 🙂

Thank you both! Xxxx

The Mike Cavalli Show also appears on YouTube! Enjoy!

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I had my debrief with my psychiatrist today. He insists I go ahead with the yearly colonoscopy in July (yuck!) as he says I am at higher risk of bowel cancer due to my cptsd and my propensity to grow polyps.

I told him I had had a very bad IBS attack and he said it was probably triggered by the weird housing inspector making me feel like my home is under threat. Also my worry about Beauregard’s health. Yes. That is true. Those were the triggers.

He fully endorses that I need to go back out dancing as soon as the mandates end on 14 April. He says I need the cardiovascular exercise and the emotional catharsis I get by dancing wildly to rock music as it means I am not storing old trauma emotions in my gut and getting violently ill.

He wishes I could find a safer dance space than my usual spot at the casino but I reminded him that wherever I go I attract weirdoes so the main thing is I remain hypervigilant and get myself back out in the world and just bloody dance!

I need to do what I do best: celebrate my body, my life, my survival to Thrival and channel my psychic energy through all my Meridians. My shamanic warrior goddess revelry. 🙂

I am looking forward to seeing some of my favourite bands again and some of my fellow dancers.

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My 92 year old friend/neighbour Ailsa is going to be put in a Home. It’s time, as her kids have nursed her in her own home for 8 years and they are exhausted. I understand this logically and even supported it.

But as I left her home just now (after a lovely enervated chat as she was talkative even if not always making sense with her dementia) she gripped my hand fiercely and said “Never let me down!”

I replied stoicly and solipsistically “I would never like to let you down Ailsa”. She said with great passion, “Good because I love you!”

I kissed her cheek and started to leave but was wracked with such emotion that I started crying and could not find the voice to say Bye to Peter properly. My voice sounded strangled with tears.

I hate that she has to go into a Home. I hate her losing her Independance and the better care she has received from her son and daughter-in-law.

I especially hate that because I am unvaxed I will have to let her down as I will not be allowed to visit her in the Aged care facility. I cried most of the 5 minute walk home.

I am getting far too emotional these days. I rarely cry. But be that as it may, I am fond of Ailsa. I pray she is safe and happy where she goes to live next. It will be hard on her son who has fought to look after her for so long too.

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6 April 2021

Yayyy my ca glue finally arrived! So back at glueing in the inlay abalone pieces on my second door. Progress. So happy and excited to see this project reach completion.. (mutter mutter must keep working to finish the beautiful but kitschig decoupage cases!!! I worked on them yesterday like uh...glued two pictures down lol. Little ones...not sure why there is a go slow block on that!)

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I made this video on 27 April 2020. All I can say is....Wow! Since then I burnt the will dispute documents on 9 October 2020.

There is so much more burning/decluttering I could do...Currently trying to sell stuff on Marketplace in the childlike Pollyanna absurdist belief that I might be able to train to be a silversmith if I can gather up enough resources of both energy and money from the remnants of my former life and the bone China and Crystal of my mother’s greedy former existence as well.

I have realised one thing...I have grown a lot in the last year and begun to blossom in my creativity and even begun to attempt new things (like mosaic and silversmithing) with rather intrepid vigour.

Today I have felt an intense craving or desire for connection with my former “beloved” who was so cruel and spineless that I wonder why I would ever want him ever again. It’s been a struggle in recent weeks: this intense build up of telepathy and as usual my telepathy is rarely wrong.

So I have had to fight against my instincts to reach out by calling him, knowing it just feeds into his ego and cruelty.

So I watched this video to remind me that I deserve and desire a healthy love, a true, deep and soul nourishing, warming, joyous, faithful, nurturing cherished love.

...and anything less than that is....BOLLOCKS!!!

But my spirit wants one thing, and my heart is her own trickster god mistress so I will have to slap her back down and lock her in my chest for a while.

6 April 2020

Yesterday I reflected on the events of this year that have completely shaken me to my core. The first major event was George Pell’s conviction. Followed by the controversy over Michael Jackson.

Then the Christchurch terrorist attack. Then the horror of my colonoscopy two weeks ago which I am still weakened from. (The thought of having to repeat it in 6 months time is literally killing me).

I am really struggling to find my equilibrium. I was even attacked again online by vicious trolls. Old me would have told them all to get fucked. But I instead internalised it into a deep depression which I have not allowed to happen in many years.

Thursday was a very dark day for me emotionally but my darling Lyn came to visit and brought me the comfort of a good and long friendship. Last night I went dancing but felt somewhat detached. Maybe that is a sign that I am processing months of trauma triggers.

At any rate I am just moving through life as gently as my body and mind will allow me. I have two more surgeries to endure and heal from this year, both the gall bladder and the second (ugh!) colonoscopy. My teeth ache just thinking about it. But I will survive and I will overcome my personal limitations and daily indignities.

Maybe next year I might feel a whole lot better? Or the year after?

In the meantime my attitude is everything. I have to concentrate on getting through each day with it’s marvellous gifts and seemingly insurmountable challenges one moment at a time.

So yeah. I got stalked as I left the casino last night by one of the regular men. He was not threatening but it was weird that he followed me all the way to the 7-11 and back almost to the crossing. I smiled at him but ignored the behaviour. It seemed uncharacteristic. But he is harmless enough, I guess.

I bought a $2 coffee and walked calmly back to where George plays. Drank my coffee in silence and contemplated my existence.

Like, what the fuck is happening?! I seem to be stuck in a loop. But I shook it off. Walked down to the casino car park and drove home. Took off my makeup and went to bed. Only to be interrupted 2 hours later by secret pussy business.

I think I will stay home tonight and nurture my florid psyche. Also my foot is hurting again. The Tanya needs to rest.

I am in some sort of limboic holding pattern so I might as well keep flying low until I run out of gas. Then try to land this abortive life plan onto a tarmac of some kind of safe landing and new direction. But how? Where? When? 54 years of this endlessly going nowhere. Psy sighs.

I guess I will be feeling less greasy and cantankerous once the gall bladder is gone. I won’t be able to blame my freckled pique on rising bile anymore. Instead I will just be an irate bitter older woman chasing a carrot of delusional illusion that I might find love and comfort in my old age. Nu? What else is new! Lmao!

I have had an extraordinarily difficult life and I must settle into the concept that now my life is amazing. There is so much I might yet achieve if I can find enough strength and determination.

I might even blow my own mind one day. Time will tell.

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9:58 am Awake in the Psychedelic Dreamer’s Dream. I slept well from 9 pm to 9:30 am. Back to my long long long sleeping pattern which is actually my “Normal”.

I still feel fatigued but I hit the ground running as my beautiful Beau had vomited several times during early morning. So I had to clean up the little puddles on the floor.

He has been chewing on a bone that he buried. Which never agrees with him. I noticed he was feeling off-colour the past few days.

Charlie is outside, singing. I need to wash my hair and shower. But first I will have some breakfast with Charlie.

6 April 2019

A funny memory from last night. Some guy was dancing and hamming in front of the stage. I was doing my own version of the same on my “spot”.

I watched the security guard on the stage gazing balefully at the guy. I think he was wondering if he was drunk or crazy and was thinking about throwing him out. I nodded to let him know he was okay with me.

The guy was having a ball. Obviously in need of an emotionally charged bust out in the context of the “dance”. I recognised immediately another “survivor”. But I did not engage with him and held my very precious “sacred” space, my invisible almost invincible wall that shields the fragile Berserker Butterfly.

So rather surprisingly the younger bald bearded man randomly approached me where I sat on the edge of the stage, having a break from dancing. He asked me to help him undo his kerchief that he had tied very tightly around his neck.

I looked in amazement. This is new, I thought. I asked him if trying to strangle himself was some kind of Borderline Waif routine. (The Tanya never holds back on her summary character assassinations).

To my surprise the guy says rather goodnaturedly, “I know right, I did this to myself! But don’t worry it was not self-harming behaviour, I just didn’t factor in it would get too tight and choke me!”

Jesus I thought. I was right. Another lunatic Survivor out in the night, choking himself to get a woman’s attention.

Giggling quietly, I fussed with the knot at the back of his head. (Which probably meant he was head down, probably salivating over my buxom chest). I eventually managed to unchoke the “chicken” with a very wry smile on my face.

He thanked me then scurried back over to the tables to finish drinking. I wonder why he picked me to loosen his kerchief? There were other men and a few women at the table. I watched as he carefully unrolled his kerchief, smoothing out its folds and folded it and stuffed it in his pocket. A sweet gesture.

To be honest he looked like someone I met years ago but back then he had hair and no beard. He was a very sweet sensitive person back then. But I doubt it was the same person but all night I was “haunted” by exes.

One particular guy looked too much like “Dead Elvis” who with his lemonade stinginess should just fucking remain “dead”. I was on high alert lest he approach me as I had told him last year to stay away from me not just for 5 years but 10 years at least.

I was somewhat relieved that it was not him but the room was filled with similar looking doppelgängers last night. Ew! Perhaps a warning from Spirit to expect the unexpected and be aware of former casual partners rising from their own Doom like the “altered beasts” they truly are.

Then, when the other guy stalked me last night to the 7-11, I was hyper-vigilant. I like him, as a fellow dancer but I am not interested in him sexually or in being trawled after on the cbd streets. But he was on the phone to his new sweetheart so I figured he was not going to bother me too much, except he called her a silly bitch.

I just kept walking, stolidly and calmly. I had observed said silly bitch warming him up for free drinks all night and already knew that was gonna go bad for him. There are women who are using manipulative psychopaths too. But I was not going to empathise with him.

Following me around like a lost boy chasing his Agony Aunt was not cool. I might tell him so next time. Call him out on his bullshit.

But nah, better to keep my space Sacred and watch the wormèd moths smash themselves against my wall. It is not my job to fix everyone. They are rarely grateful and I am too tired of it.

But I shall watch him keenly as I think he is potentially going to be annoying. Also I am not the backstop kick drop girl for the desperate and broken. I have better things to do with my heart and mind.

My other new friend, Richie demanded I fan him. I don’t mind. He is a cancer survivor and I have man on pause so lots of fanning happens. But I did not like his demanding tone so I said “say what?” “You are my Slave!” Quoth he. I glared at him balefully. I told him if he kept that up I might have to bash him.

He smiled. I fanned, with a measure of disgust. I told him he only gets fanned because I like him and we are both so very hot with menopause!

But seriously I do wish these men would work out their BDSM status in an appropriate club, far away from me. Dickheads. I will never be a Slave.

So they are clocking up my occasional kindnesses, and they have no idea that a Queen always wins. Always. Usually by walking away. Or in my case, Dancing and Sashaying AWAY.

I have a feeling that kerchief guy might be back. Interesting that he understood my “borderline waif” comment. So either in therapy or has read widely. I like an intelligent man.

Where was I? Oh yes, hatching my escape plan.

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8:02 am. 4 hours sleep. Cats fought under the house so Bobo cried and whined until I let him outside to try to sort it. Sophie walked back in the back door like a Boss. I let Betty out to forage. Threw the mattress cover in the washing machine. My asthma is bad so I loped back to bed. Sleep is for the “just” lmao.

I came home early from dancing last night so am quite exhausted but between my animals and my lungs not much sleeping is permitted this day.

I will strive to go with the flow. I finally started reading a good book sent to me by Margaret a long time ago. Paper Daisies by Kim Kelly. Set in 1900 in Bathurst. So that shall keep my brain engaged if sleeping does not happen. Thank god for reading!

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3:43 am. Trying to sleep but a waft of cat shit permeated my nostrils. Got up to discover Socks had done a massive steaming shit on top of the spare bed again. So I had to strip off the waterproof mattress protector and replace it with a clean one.

Gross! Nocturnal shittiness I could do without! I didn’t have much enzyme cleaner left but spritzed it over the stain. Tomorrow I will wash the cover. I am too tired to take it out back and put it in the washing machine now.

I don’t know why he is doing this. The cat litter is fresh from yesterday. Mind you I am going through a lot of cat litter too. 3 big bags this week. Oh well. The joys of being owned by older pussy cats.

6 April 2018

I just received news that my cousin Robert Ivan Phillips was killed in a car accident yesterday. I never got to meet him in person but he gifted me the Phillips family tree which I put up on Ancestry and he worked hard at answering many messages and questions about his extensive family tree.

I can’t believe he is gone. Utterly shocked. He was a brilliant man with the classic sardonic Phillips wit and adored his family.

Robert Ivan Phillips brought me back to my family. His family tree with thousands of members reminded me that I am not alone in this world. It brought me Melvyn and Megan. Showed me that while our family was riddled with maggotty rotten apples that there were a few spectacular good and still blossoming fruits that sprang from those gnarly twisted boughs.

The most beautiful and spiritual and wise were often the most broken and cast aside. I was ennobled and blessed to meet you all.

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Wow! Not a good foto! Fuck my life and iPhone but I just noticed something. Bambi has a giant butterfly in front of him. (Like the scene from the movie when a butterfly alights on the top of his nose). I have unconsciously recreated that.

Who’s my Daddy? Fucking Walt Disney! I was “orphaned” by being spawned by vicious biological parents and the greatest gifts they gave me was taking me to see Disney movies (although my Sick fuck of a father once took me to see Caligula when I was 15) and resilience.

I had to be strong and resilient to survive them all - David, Gisela, Trevor, Cees, Angela, Grant, Micheal, and now even my own daughters. The gift of narcissism and psychopathology that keeps being handed down.

That butterfly was a gift I bought for my mother when I was 14 years old and it broke (too top-heavy) and I found it still broken but preserved (she obviously “forgot” to throw it out but never bothered to get it repaired), when I was 45. So I took it and had it professionally repaired and every day it reminds me of my transformation as a daughter/mother/warrior goddess/woman and how gifts dishonoured or debased are brought home to me and cherished and nurtured until in time I too, shall fly free.

The Bambi clock was gifted to me by Lucy. Another survivor of incredible abuse and a survivor of her own self-destruction. A kindred spirit who “saw” me as a great and powerful albeit dishonoured/disrespected and cast off “Auntie”. I predicted the birth of her children. We had a strong psychic connection for a while.

So gifts come in many forms, not always physical. They are meant to bring joy and honour and love into the world. The most beautiful gift of all is freedom and peace and true love. Untainted and unsmited by greedy lascivious false hands.

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https://fb.watch/rgU95BDGvH/?mibextid=v7YzmG

I wish (with hindsight 20/20 and after a hellish life) that someone/anyone had prevented me from asking my fucktard husband to marry me (twice, when I was only 18!) That someone had taken me aside and told me “don’t do it! Travel the world, escape some other way, any way you find!”

But I wanted to be my own woman/mother/wife and queen of my own destiny and what a horrific trap I fell into as my husband colluded with my mother against me and it took decades (and my mother’s death!) to finally be free of all of them. I still can’t afford to live yet alone travel.

I am Queen of my own destiny only in my mind. So very broken and embattled. But freedom is the most delicious feast of my partaking in that god-forsaken existence. It cost me the love and respect of my children, love partners, decades of epic struggle and much grief and at times loneliness and I would do it all again to be free of abusers.

Like a wild animal, I figuratively had to chew my own arm off. Worth it!

I wanted honour and integrity and a safe home of my own. Ultimately, I had to gift these things to myself. A safe home only manifested in 2003 with my government house, and even then I have only really felt safe in recent years. (The death of my mother and the horrific and paltry will dispute, sexual assaults and abusive love affairs).

I had to become my own hero in my own journey to Wholeness and wholesomeness. It took Time and Time is all I have got.

Next life may I merit to enjoy all the Love stolen and torn from me, tainted and tormented, spat on, raped and mortified. May I be raised up on angels wings to be Loved in a healthy respectful beautiful way with a life of honour and grace.

6 April 2017

Far out! Pesach (Passover) starts on Monday night. How did that sneak up on me? I can't believe how quickly the holidays zip past me. Secular and Jewish.

Time is flying past.

6 April 2016

I just had my debrief. He says I suffer terribly with unresolved grief that I can't find a life partner that can cope with my trauma issues and depression. Or prosper! I suffer majorly from rejection. That I withdraw from the world and hibernate for a while then rejuvenate and come out to play (or fight on!) again. Winter is coming. Time to hibernate. So true.

He believes my love interest has unacknowledged unrequited love for me and is likely dealing with his own issues of rejection. Yup! But I am going to chill the fuck out and cool my heels as I dislike games. I won't play with others nicely. Play me for a fool and there are consequences.

I am a loving empathic kind woman but even I have my limits. Breathe!

Anyway I have a good set up here. I have a beautiful garden I worked hard in. Beautiful pets who adore me. A few very select beautiful soul-ful friends who love me and bring peace and joy to my life. It is enough. It is all that is necessary to sustain me. Through my darker days and lonely nights.

6 April 2015

2.57 am. Don't ask and I won't tell! Pseudo echo was good. The dancing after was good. Bit triggered by creepy enemies watching me all night but fuck them, the shallow two-faced bastards! I danced even harder!

Now exhausted, in pain. Living large has its drawbacks. I think I will lay low for my birthday. My kid is ambivalent (and migrating overseas). The man I love treats me like a leper. Old friends are detached.

Frankly I don't know what the point of holding on for these people is?

6 April 2014

Story Bridge Hotel was Gayyy and square, discouraged dancing and DJ only played House music. What a bunch of Stiffs!

So Sarah and I are now at our "Home" rocking out to Jabba who are making our night! Thank God we finally get to have fun!

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I had a wonderful time with Sarah last night. We had a lovely dinner at Jatt Flava which Crystal joined us for! The food was delicious.

Then Sarah and I went to Elephant Hotel to dance sensually to Ramjet's awesomeness. The men in the crowd were rude and callow but we didn't allow them to ruin our night. I slept over at Sarah and we are currently enjoying the Vibe at Story Bridge Hotel.

Lovely times. I am so happy and grateful to my amazing friends and Crystal for spoiling me with their zest for life, their music and their art and their abundant Love. Rock on Babies!

6 April 2011

Saw the Public Dentist today. Had a clean, de-plaque session and the lovely handsome Black Muslim Dentist even gave me a special fluoride coating on my choppers cos they've been so terrible sensitive. He is very kind and gentle. (Usually they scream at me to open wider, wider - he just gently moans in my general direction.) I like that he is not aggressive with me.

From the comment section:

The older woman dentist I saw last time at QE11 was very good also. I've insisted my wait list which was almost due at South Brisbane get transferred to QE11. The Dentists there seem much nicer and genuinely strive to give you proper treatment.

I never want to go back to South Brisbane again. What a bunch of butchers! Now, of course I hope to inherit a decent amount of money in a years time, or two, so I can afford the implant that will cost $8200. I'm determined to get my teeth sorted so when I smile I don't look like a ravaged impoverished 46 year old bag!

I mean my looks might be pretty much gone but did the South Brisbane Dental Hospital have to fuck up my front teeth as well!?

Melissa: relating to ur initial post: some talent u have to make a trip to the dentist see like a dirty scene from a mills n boon novel lol!

Me: LOL Oh I see what you mean! LOL, yeah well my life is pretty sad when the only eye-candy is visiting a free dentist in the Public Hospital system LOL.

I realised I've turned into a dirty sleazy old woman the other day when I got woken up by the groceries being delivered by a very handsome exotic Brazilian man, and although I was just stonkered with exhaustion and still asleep, I managed to chat him up and Gail and your Mum saw me and it was hilarious.

Proof that there's still life in this old girl yet!? I'm a tad scared of becoming a Femme Fatale or one of those over-sexed and perpetually frustrated senior citizens we all used to laugh about as much younger women.

PS It's all fun anyway! PPS My teeth still hurt like HADES even with the special fluoride coating I nagged him to paint on my teeth.

Melissa: no harm in fun...whatever the particulars 🙂 bummed abt sore teeth! Back to dentist for u...? Hehe!

Me: Probably not, as good looking as he is, I can't see his beautiful face with my eyes scrunched closed cos I'm meditating through the pain, floating in Byron Bay with the Sun (ie the bright overhead light) glaring through my eyelids can I?

I may be very good at disassocation from a prejudicial childhood but pain and dentists and more pain, and the ongoing nuisance of having to go back cos I have abscesses or fucked up root canals or other stuff the System fails to notice makes it very hard for me to make the effort to go there!

If the pain continues to get worse I'll have to go perve on the new man I guess. Probably that day I'll get the equally nice but less attractive woman dentist LOL. I prefer women dentists anyway as the best dentist I ever had (although she was expensive at the time!) was Myvanwyan Camp.

Wherefore art thou, Mavvie my professionally best dentist ever?!) She liked me so much she kept my notes as a souvenir LOL. I used to chat to her about the news or politics on the radio, WITH a mouthful of instruments and she STILL knew what I was saying. That fabulous woman was FLUENT in epiglottal grunting! Love her dearly whereever she is!

Melissa: lol @ epiglottal grunting!!! may the forces (?) (es) be with you lol

Me: Thanks darling, feeling pretty Force-ful lately. The universe in all her abundance is smiling upon me. Will just go with it for a change. xxx

Melissa: goodness...you ever go against it...? yikes...why!? go with the flow man, life is full o' goodness 🙂

Me: I'm like the Salmon trying to outswim the big nasty Black Bear! If I'm not battling or swimming up a turgid stream I don't feel alive, man. But every now and then I get tired of shovelling shit uphill, and float downstream for a while, in the sunny shallows. Excuse the mixed metaphors lol!

Melissa: lol...there's plenty of upstream swimming to be done without fighting the good stuff! plenty of both...

Me: Agreed. My fight is long from over so I'm on hiatus before I get a hiatus hernia LOL. I love that your Mum is always there to play with me when I'm in my puddling about time in the shallows.

I still remember the awesome Mud Bath she and you kids created for me on the day I went to the Family Court for my Decree Nisi all those years away. What a great way to de-stress from the filth of a bad marriage, ugly putrescent Divorce and the awfulness of the court proceedings that day (I made the Judge Flip His Wig literally when I told him what a schmuck he'd been to every woman in court that day including me, his last customer LOL). So we wallowed in the mud and slush and it was the most healing thing I've ever done!

Melissa: mum is great isnt she?! 🙂

Update 6 April 2022: Hilarious! (Don’t mention the teeth…I had years of hell with them too! They have been better this year. Fingers crossed it stays that way for a long time!)

6 April 2010

Slept all day (as I do almost every day) but feel much calmer, serene and relatively sane today. (mutters...just for today...as I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow LOL)

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons