Memories: 8 February 2025

8 February 2025

10:18 am I just wrote my usual morning musings, only to have AI twist my words and change my thought processes. Fuck the hell off. I must have accidentally hit the button that allows AI to ”write” for me.

So now I have lost 20 minutes of my writing and precious time and synapsing sequencing soliloquies.

All good. Sometimes Silence is the only appropriate answer. lol. I will hold my vision and write off Facebook since it interferes in my creativity so very much. Tries to change my own narrative. Yuck!

I had a lovely dinner with Margaret last night. It was good to spend quality time with her. She invited me to come stay with her in Melbourne some day. That would be awesome!

…

Margaret advised me NOT to move to a country town. She said they don’t understand Wogs like us. I would have to change my name back to Phillips to fit in. It would stymy my Jewish shamanic witchy ways. They would isolate me.

She advised me to write my book. (Arggghhhh) if only I knew how to!) but it’s a work in progress.

She advised me to consider getting involved in impromptu comedy. That it might be a good outlet for me. Also to consider taking up courses at university which would help me find my tribe. Other intellectuals who might just vibe with me. It would build confidence and help me find new friends.

I have a phobia of institutionalised education systems as I experienced so much abuse when I was 17 at university. It was isolating and sadistic. I never wanted to ever be in that precarious position again. But it’s something to think about. A potentiate.

I am old now. I have nothing to fear but my own atrophy and mind numbing bathos and the treachery and vagaries of my fellow humans. Over and over again. I have fought hard against that for decades.

Always the same groove, the same hell loop that even my psychiatrist recognised and said I need to find a way to push myself off from. Find a real love and a create a safer life for myself.

How can I achieve that in an actual fetid self immolating Zombie Apocalyose? It’s an impossible psychedelic dreamers’ dream. A dystopian nightmare there is no awakening from. I simply need to put one foot in front of the other and walk/dance/mosh my way Home! Lmao.

I will need to trust in the Multiverses to have my back, to guard my heart/mind/body/soul and allow me to experience the greatest realest Love in my life. Some day…somehow.

In the meantime. Here I am. Waiting…living…loving…coping.

…

From last evening 7 February 2025: Happy Margaret and Tanya. Partaking of salmon (cooked in olive oil with rosemary and chives from my garden) ajver (a Croatian relish made from spicy red peppers), pickles, dolmades, coleslaw and pasta salad.

Margaret cooked the salmon as I never buy fish products so had no idea how to cook it for her ie I didn’t want to ruin a good salmon fillet! It was wonderful to have your company, Margaret. I love you! 50 years of friendship. Just Wow!

8 February 2023

10:36 pm tonight I just finished posting the last of my journal (May 2009- 2022) to Vocal Media. Hopefully I now have a journal entry for every day in the year (except for the ones they refused to publish.)

It’s taken me months to complete this task as many of my journal stories were lost in some software glitch. I hope this never happens again. It’s kind of symbolic that I completed this task on my dead mother’s former birthday.

My memories are perfectly preserved. I am satisfied.

…

…

“well might the Banshees wail”… well my Loves…they have been screaming and streaming into our consciousness for decades but nobody would listen and I, the proverbial canary down the mine was deemed crazy, worthless, unloveable and irredeemable!

I highly recommend watching this movie. It resonates on so many levels: the death of culture, the bathos, the isolation and abandonment and rejection. Only the miniature donkey knew best. The border collie dog wiser than wise while the master goes quietly mad chasing his muse.

In fact I need to see this movie again. This synopsis by John Waters perfectly outlines the magic of this art piece.

Long May the Banshee wail…and May they be heard in Time.

…

1:11 pm go forth and multiply…take whatever scraps of love that comes your way and turn it into a creative outlet that satisfies and edifies and brings forth joy.

…

https://youtu.be/WE6F8YpSkHE

….

12:07 pm I just received a call from my psychiatrist’s receptionist. He has had to cancel all his appointments. Diarrhoea and vomiting.

So I encourage everyone to boil their water or install water filtering. I suspect that our water supply is either contaminated or being actively tampered with.

I need to buy a water filtration system myself. I don’t trust our government or “health” department. They are capable of anything at this stage.

…

I woke up at 8 am because Bobo was crying to be let out. He vomited orange coloured bile on the kitchen floor. I let him out and observed him peeing normally and eating more grass to induce vomiting.

We went back to bed (I was still exhausted) and he seems fine now. Then I received a text message from Lyn that she was sick all night with diarrhoea snd vomiting. She had planned to come visit me today.

I just woke up again at 10:45 am. I don’t feel like getting out of bed today. The constant heat has been oppressive.

But time to greet the day and see what it brings me. Hopefully better health and more courage and joy manifested in large and small ways.

8 February 2022

My mother would have been 95 today. 12 years since she transitioned. So much has changed in my life. Big changes, even recently. The world shifted into darkness with the Covid epoch…but I believe in new beginnings, in sunrises and in blossoming after every epic evil storm. Up she rises. We got this!

8 February 2021

1:22 pm I am sitting under the tree. The weather is slightly cooler but rain is imminent. The wind has come up but it’s breezy and moving in little vortices. I had to take down the sun umbrella.

The neighbourhood is quiet. Except for the drumming hum of the cicadas. It’s beautiful out here.

I feel slightly better. My mind is clear. I sat up until 1 am watching “the Exorcist” tv series on Prime Amazon. It was okay. There were elements that are just plain weird...like conducting the exorcism in the attic which they padded out the walls with mattresses. But it’s entertaining and in my own life situation...thought provoking.

A friend from Ecstatic Dance who came along to drumming told me that there are active Luciferians that have inveigled themselves there. It explains a lot.

I have been dogged by evil all my life. Especially from my own family of origin. In true Narcopathic style they tried to make me out to be the evil one. To the point I started to believe it myself.

I discovered though that I am intrinsically quite balanced spiritually speaking. I have my darkness...only human after all. But I have a lot of Light gifted to me from Supernal beings. That was how I survived my paedophile monstrous family. I cleaved always...always to the truth.

But the truth is subjective and reflective and can be made opaque by evildoers. They tried to smear my vision and obliterate my worldview. I had to go within. To seek what is real. Still Seeking.

There are parts of me they killed that I can never get back. Not in this incarnation. Perhaps in the World to Come HaShem will fully form my precious eternal soul. Perhaps next life will be easier, kinder, more loving and prosperous. Healthier, safer. Whole and holy!

But why wait...I can grow around the desolate parts of my own obliterated life like a wild rambling rose vine. I can blossom in my own brokenness. I can heal myself. (I am always and forever grieving and healing and if necessary pruning and reconfiguring).

My friend tells me I need to embrace my Witchy side. I smiled. I interpreted quite correctly that I would be called upon to fight my usual spiritual war. Very soon after, the cards fell into place and once again The Tanya spoke/wrote/danced her Truth.

For which I am marginalised and scorned, isolated and betrayed. It’s all okay. I am never going to play to my abusers. Succour them, fellate them. Please them.

Evil is as evil does but without its audience it soon loses its power. Without sychophantic supporters. Without its minions...it has nothing. No thing.

....

My musings were just interrupted by a wild lorikeet stalking my Charley. She was intrigued at first. Rare to have such a close encounter with her own species. I got a little hopeful it might be a mate. But it terrified her so much she fell out of the tree and ran to her Mama T for safety and comfort.

Yes Charley, we don’t fit in with our own species. But we have each other!

It’s beautiful and magical how my true loves cleave to me as they know what it means to be abandoned, betrayed and brutalised. We hold each other precious. A family wrought from darkness and pain. A love so powerful that even the wild nasty bird does not mess with us!

Cute!

8 February 2020

Home from one of the best nights at the Livewire Bar at the Treasury Casino that I have had in over a year.

Morris invited me to come out tonight. When I got there, there was lovely seating on the sides of the dance floor. We could drink again on the floor too. Omg! It was just like the good old days except with elegant seating as well. So much better for my middle-aged tochas to be able to sit in comfort.

I danced wildly with Morris, Karen, Adam, Scotty and Craig and a beautiful Asian lady named Bella. Bella kept kissing me on the cheek which was sweet. Scotty and Craig and Adam hammed it up with me big time.

I had the most magnificent time. Phoenix Rising were playing with Sarah Frazer singing. The place went Off!!! It was wonderful.

I may not be able to walk later today as my heels were too damn high and put pressure on my thighs. But oh my goddess it was worth it. We had so much fun.

There was a lot of love in the room.

Juicy!!! I need a bath now as I danced so much my clothes were all saturated with perspiration. It has been 5 weeks since I have been out dancing.

8 February 2019

Today is my former mother’s birthday. I was going through my memories and have posted some funny old antics I got up to back in 2014. Heartwarming. How I strive to blossom after the devastation of life with that woman.

Now, almost 9 years after her death, I finally seem to be finding my locus again. She would have been 92 today. But life happens the way it happens, until it no longer Happens and in the happenstances of our lives, and the deaths of our unrequited loves, and evil toxic family, we grieve and then get up and strive to find a better saner life, free of shackles of the past or the ghoulish mirrors that keep arising to mock and taunt us.

Unconscious zombies that see our pain and horror and trauma and actively choose to take on that role of all the former abusers so they can try to finish the task of ending me.

I can barely breathe to think of how many, how many took up my mother, and those foul paedophiles’ standards and flocked to harass and taunt and abuse me. It was like a contagion, a disease that could not be contained and I had to wait decades for the ill effects to wash out, fade away, staunch the blood, tears and sweat and ...wait. Still waiting...for the One who comes to me clean and clear without artifice or cruel games and loves me back to fullness of life.

In the meantime, while I was pouring love into unworthy cruel toxic lover men and women friends, dancing as fast as I could (and still dancing!), being humiliated and scorned and made to watch them kiss and fuck right up in my face! I got finally loved enough to turn my love within and exploded my broken kinstugi-ed heart and manifested my own truth and beauty and power amidst so much callow ugliness and putrid betrayals that I almost wish I had died, after all.

But here I am! A miracle. A wild wise wonderful woman. A daughter of the gods. A seeker of knowledge. A lover of life, of death and of the multiverses. A light that shines in my own darkness. A fury and a sweet harmonious becalment on a ragged sea of despair.

A love that could not die.

Everything and nothing.

So happy birthday Gisela, thanks for the birthing, the cruelties, the gifts, the time you gave and the time you stole from me. Thanks for the genetics, the evil and the occasional good. Thanks for the lessons. Thanks for the constant betrayals. Thanks for the rare and confusing but precious times you stood with me.

Thanks for being you. Thanks for letting me go, at last (I wish). I pray to G-d, all the gods that our paths never cross again in any dimensions/heavens/ or hells as you were not easy to survive and I still hope to one day, thrive.

So I turn to face you, my Alte Hexe, my hag, my mother. Take back the Dave’s, and the Sarah’s and all the other demon spawn narcissists that you sent to lure and seduce, to use and abuse me. Take your shadow puppets, and your filthy diseased muppets.

I want a clean, lovely life. Free of the past and your spooks.

I forgive you and your Void that in your fear, torment, hunger for power sought to destroy me, your little girl.

You knew better. Really. Truly. You owed me a safe life. But denied it to me.

So here we are. I draw the line in the sands of time and death and skip the light fandango, walking that line with my inner child you broke too many times, holding hands across the universes with the woman I am now and integrating the one, the woman I might yet become.

Love. Life. Honour your ancestors that your time on earth may be long.

But how long is a piece of string? Or string theory or quantum physics or the life of a broken little girl that had to grow up and Become.

All the little girls. (And little boys!) who survived more monsters than the ones we were told were under our bed.

Ahhh fuck it.

Kick it to the kerb. Another day in “Paradise”. Begin the beguine. Again.

pieces of my soul are in those gold curtains. I call them back. Return to me, all the fragments of the Tanya, the objects, places and people I put myself into while disassociating from abuse.

I call all my pieces back. I am rebuilding myself. Stronger. Whole. Perfected in all my imperfections. Not shaken down. Not stirred. Reborn! Fierce and fearless. Alive. Aware. Full of real authentic love. Implacable. Impenetrable. Important. A tad impish but hey, you need a little whimsy in your life.

…

Some gremlin or trickster spirit is trying to mess with my head. While doing dishes, (which have built up for 2 days!) I lost the plug. It was impossible as it was there when I began to sort the dishes. But suddenly it disappeared.

Bemused, I chided the spirits or the Fae and said ”okay give me the plug back. It’s hard enough to get me to do housework!” I went outside to bring Charlie to bed. Then went to the bathroom to use the plug from there.

I fill the sink but the spare plug is a funny one so most of the water escaped down the drain. Now I had torn the kitchen apart twice, looking for the original plug and had given up on it!

So I wander away again, to stir the pasta I am cooking for Bobo’s dog food. I come back, the stainless steel scourer has disappeared as well but in its place at the bottom of the sink is the original plug next to the spare plug. Say what?!!!! So the Fae gave me back the plug and took the scourer.

I think they are acting out because I upset myself today about my long dead mother and my freshly dead hen.

Well, gimme back the fricking scourer so I can get on with the dishes you mischievous imps!

I hate a job half done!!!

…

I am unable to sleep, and my body is somatising everywhere. Sore hands, feet, ankles, and lower back. So I would normally say “fuck it” and go dancing but I am in too much pain. Maybe tomorrow night. Or next weekend. I need to rest.

I guess I shall lie in front of the fan and read a schlocky romance novella. Nothing too taxing on my brain.

…

Fuck it’s hot tonight. It’s been muggy all day. I have had 3 showers today. One to wash my hair and body and the other two to cool down. Could go another one!

It’s been an emotional day and a sticky heat one as well.

End of rant. Mama T had to decide if she is going out or not.

8 February 2018

8 February 2017

On a other Page someone asked me what Resilience feels like. This was my answer. Please let me know what your own thoughts about resilience are. I found it very interesting.

"It means knowing for a fact that life is endless suffering, that there is great evil in the world, that I am never gonna make it, but my heart keeps hoping, my mind keeps praying, my body keeps getting up each morning and lying down each night.

My mouth (silenced and ridiculed for so long) keeps speaking its truth, my soul keeps flying and I accept the great gifts of rare miracles, true friendship and love along the long arduous road to hell that was always paved with good intentions, warrior stances and dances and a quirky sense of the absurd, facing down monsters and demons, nightmares, poverty, trauma and turning shit to spiritual gold.

Even though that shit leaves a stink and a stain that cost me true love, security, enduring happiness. Being bathed in purifying light and celestial waters. Then doing it all over again.

Resilience, and her soul sister Hope. Dreadful liars, but golden opportunities for new beginnings."

8 February 2016

Beauregard is in his bed in his crate. I have given him his heartworm tablet and his Advantix so he is going to be fine. He had a nice walk with me to the dog park today.

Some idiot male let his dog aggressively hound my dog in the small dog park area that I asked Council to implement so that puppies and small dogs have a safe place to meet. So I let him know I was not going to tolerate his dog being aggressive so he put it out into the large dog area. My blood was boiling. It boils over a lot lately. Surprised I haven't had a bloody stroke.

Anyway, the young man backed right off when he saw how terrified Bobo was and how homicidal I was. Protecting our pets makes us rather aggressive. A young woman was in there with her puppy Dachshund (pronounced the german way).

She let him play with Bobo as they were both a bit timid and before we knew it the two puppies were all over each other. She named her dog Raylin after a character on Justified. I think she was secretly happy I bollocked the guy as he was obviously trying to flirt with her and annoy her while his dog was threatening mine. Kind of funny actually. Mama (or Aunty) Tanya struck again.

Another couple from Bosnia came to the fence of the small dog area to say hello and told me their dog was 11 years old and grumpy. I laughed. I said there is nothing wrong with being old and grumpy, after a certain age we learn not to take shit from anyone. They laughed too.

…

Today is my former Mother's birthday. I wish I could say I miss her but I don't. I just feel relieved that her legacy of pain is slowly subsiding and I am slowly coming into my own balance and find meaning in a world devoid of proper nurturance or prosperity.

Without my beautiful friends, in particular, Lyn and Jarrod, and Julie, I would not be alive today. I remain grateful and hopeful that my destiny will make all the stuff that happened up until now, seem a distant dirty smudge on a spectacularly good later life. (Always the optimist!)

I was asked by Musicman on Paltalk why I am still here? Julie answered for me, by stating "She is here to fulfill her Destiny, I made sure of it". Well, here's to you, Kid, I hope I make you all Proud one day. :-)

8 February 2015

Yesterday was another cathartic day. More epic battles and horror. I honestly can't take much more of this crap. I ended a long friendship with Gail, due to her lies and toxicity. (Emotionally dumping on me when I was in stage one of a major breakdown). The woman has to leave my life. I can't be dragging around a dead rotting albatross anymore. I've done this for too many years.

Then at 10.30 pm I was at Dutton Park Police Station to lay a formal complaint about my stalker who harassed me Friday night/Saturday morning yet again. He treated me like a delusional mental patient until I lost my temper and demanded his registration number and that I would report him for inappropriate service. He took down some notes, and made an appointment with me for Monday night at 10 pm ( I assume when he will be on shift again).

I feel very traumatised that I can't seem to get any justice or be taken seriously when I have to, on rare occasions access the Police, who I have a long history of not being able to trust as they just are not willing to take me seriously. This woman was malicious enough to access all my prior acquaintances and lovers but apparently that is not "stalking"? If not, what would that be in the eyes of the law? This is gross insanity.

So he offered instead to charge her for making malicious and menacing calls by telecommunications. Not nearly good enough, given that she harassed me outside the pub (I was banned from for no reason but I have found out one perpetrator of slander that might have been the real cause) and again at the casino.

I am not ever going to let anyone stop me from living my life and going out dancing and enjoying myself. Ever. So I will not stop until I have this woman charged. Enough already.

8 February 2014

Love Me Tender, Love Me True, Never Let Me Goooo. Regina many years ago talked me into (without breaking my arm!) buying a lovely teddy bear dressed like Elvis with an actual recording inside him that sings that song.

I still have him at the foot of my bed. He's very sweet and sometimes just for kicks, I give him a squeeze and pretend I have a sweet loving man who is for real in my life. Then I laugh and laugh, and cry a little. All good.

When I was a girl, I went to a single-sex school called Wellington Girls’ College. Putting me into an institution (any institution!) was a fresh trauma that today has not quite gone away. So many traumas, so little time to dwell on the past but this one was rather prescient (Thanks you bunch of Slappers!) for my nickname at school, was Spinster!

On a good day they would tell me with great insouciance and glee that I could never get a Fuck in a Brothel. This was designed to infer that I was a Loser, Ugly and Socially Inept with boys. All true at the time, well perhaps not ugly, but made to feel ugly by my peers and my family.

So it is with some great amusement that I was married by 19 (no great achievement given how little my husband actually respected or cared for me), had two small baby girls by 22, just after my 22nd birthday in fact. So I thought, Ha, I have beaten those evil bitches and their nasty taunts by being the first to marry and have children. Well, anyone can Breed, darlings.

So I raised those girls by my own bootstraps, while suffering trauma and major depression and being sabotaged by a Dull Intellect Sociopath (my former husband), a Narcissist Psychopath (my mother) and their ever-growing enclave of evil, (my father, Gila, Terry, David, Buck Scherer and his offspring). All determined to destroy me!

So here I am, all these years later, a 'spinster', living alone in singlehood (and totally loving it, babies), deprived of my family fortune by thieves, con-artists and relatives of ill-repute, my own sister, the step sisters whom I never met, and my own father even colluded with these creeps.

I can't get a 'fuck in a brothel' quite literally. I don't even care. I can't find a decent man who is Real enough to take me on as a partner. (God only knows, I've tried and failed miserably and sometimes humourously).

So the sea monkeys, and the evil salacious hags have my family fortune, and here I sit in my little housing commission cottage, waiting for Godot. Death has been a regular visitor too, but She hasn't bothered to try to take me lately, and I fought her like a demon to keep Tabitha hen alive, so the body count so far is Miss Bella Rosa, Zulu King of the Holland Park Forest, Hecate hen, fish but the Halitosis Hag has not gotten Tabitha, Penny or Me....yet.

Ahh but I digress, I may have ended up an impoverished "Spinster" well, a very Merry Divorcee and staying that way. I may have ended up rather eccentric from years of abuse, trauma, neglect, and so much hatred foisted upon me by others not worth the black beneath my nails, but I have lived to finally, finally survive them all, and now I have lived long enough to laugh at my abusers, the past, my own existence and be happy.

Before you label me with Bipolar Disorder (those of you, who have no fricken idea about who I am, what I am or whom I might yet Become!) last night reminded me, in all my mad fun shenanigans, that I am LIFE, and Bliss and Madness but I am still a good person and I am still Loving and I deserved to be Free, Happy and Inspired.

I deserve to open my eyes on each day and lick the Eyeballs of God, with a quirky mischievous glint in my eye and a grin that could melt the hearts of Ice Monsters.

I have proven myself over and over again a true Shield Maiden. I have fought for my right to be Me, to be Free and to be Loved in spite of what my abusers did to me, and are still post-humously doing to me.

They couldn't make me lie down and Die although they hoped I would and it came close many times. They couldn't stop me from finally shaking off those shackles and dancing like the girl with the red shoes to my own Oblivious Delight (perhaps even Oblivion still circling my awareness).

They took my money, my security, my chances at succeeding, my dignity, my innocence, my home, my sanity, my safety, my trust. In place of their toxic bullshit, when they died, and I fought for my honour so valiantly, so vaingloriously, so much suffering imposed upon me only to line the pockets of lying monsters...this is what I got.

I got my Freedom to be Me without ever doubting my right to be Me. I got to finally breathe the rarified air of Purity and Joy.

I got to cultivate an amazing sense of humour, to be at one with the Universe and to never question that something Bigger is out there Whom even though S/he/it, doesn't always have my back, Hashem the Genderless, the Magnificent always brings me the kind of people who do care about me.

Who stand by me no matter what, even when my life is so bizarre, surreal and chaotic due to circumstances beyond my control, who love me even though I am not always easy to love because I can smell bullshit at 500 miles and back again, and they hold my hand while I try to make sense of it all.

They lend me money for my epic nights out in the hope that one day, I might stumble across Real Enduring Love and not get fucked over, or merely Fucked and for my part, they pray I don't fuck it up. Ha!

Meanwhile, in my quest for the Holy Grail, (the Male that loves me, cares for me and treats me like a real man should treat a real woman) I meet amazing wonderful people, who are on their own quest for Love, or Meaning or seeking courage, warmth and joy and comfort in the lonely drunken Revelries.

Women who treat me with kindness and admire and respect me. Men who don't know what to do with me so they either play nicely or I don't let them into my energy.

Some men who are sweet and marvellous and fun to be with, like George and Brian the Homeless man who adore me because they get what it means to been Seen and Invisible, loved and hated, reviled and cared for all at the same time.

Other men who are perverted, drunk or dangerous whom I have to chase away from myself or my women friends but whom are gifts of wisdom to those still learning to navigate abuse and trauma. The only way to Win their Game, is NOT to play, as the psychopath confuses kindness for weakness.

So yeah, life goes on. I just spoke to Crystal who is visiting Ashleigh and spoke to little Chloe who has succumbed to the Sexual Revelation (spelling intended) of Spice Girls and is 8, her mother and Crystal are 28 and I am 48 (almost 49).

So here we are, 20 years apart in age and I was reminding her of Crystal, Ashleigh and Jaime's Spice Girl video when they were 11, my little Rock Chicks lol, and telling Chloe that when she is 28 she will be feeding her mad "Auntie" Tanya semolina pudding in the alzheimers ward as I will be 68.

Then I laughed until I split a rib as little Chloe had the unpleasant experience of visiting my own mother at the High Care Facility Christmas dinner and it was so fucking trippy she will probably be scarred for life. Even my dog Miss Bella Rosa was terrified of the zombie-shuffling empty vessels that existed in that Waiting Room of Death.

One more reason for me to Inspire before I Expire, express not repress and laugh and dance, live and love and eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow I may not be here, either physically or intellectually and I want to celebrate my survival, my freedom on the next journey to Thriving before I Dive permanently into the Abyss.

I Rise and Shine, a spinster in the midst of societal drones, crones, young lovers, respectable hard-working folk and the marginalised and more often than I like, the insane.

I am living my own Moniker, Psychedelic Dreamer, living my own Dream and loving it. Riding a defunct motorbike with my arms encircling my friend and being wild, but on a road to nowhere, avoiding the Stairway to Heaven, (it's a slippery Dip) and cruising the Highway to Hell. (Hell No, we won't go, not without our friends). Born to Be Wild!

…

1.55 pm. Awake. Wow! Feet still aching, still tired but happy.

I had a lovely soak in a milk bath, watching Lost Girl on my laptop when I got home this morning. Then I had a shower to rinse off the milk and washed my hair. I didn't go to sleep til 8 am so very surprised to be awake so early.

Crystal still has my car, the brat. So I am forced to recover a little before I go out with Gail. Bet she will want to go to Greenbank Arseholes. Yawn! They get very excited whenever I show up there. No idea why lol!

…

5.04 am. Waiting for the bus to take me home. I had a fantastic night at Irish Murphy's with Shauna and Sam. They bought me Patron shots. (Coffee-flavoured Tequila). Yum!

We danced wildly then at 2 am I went to hang out with George the Busker and my favourite Homeless friend Brian who had a relic of a Motorcycle so we took photos and pretended it was a real Bike. MANIFESTATIONS Baby! Maybe one day I will have a real one and a man to go with it lmao!

Ron and Chrissie came out of the casino around 3 am so I took photos of them too. Lol.

George went home at 3.30am so I hung out with Glen the Busker til 5. Lol! Good guitarist but he forgets the lyrics. Oh well can't win 'em all. George is awesome though :-)

Brian the homeless guy had a toy Penguin which sang Lalala in this weird tune! Very Trippy! So I got a photo with the penguin too.

The Funniest part of our antics on the derelict motorbike was when a patrol van full of cops stopped opposite on Elizabeth Street and they all stared at us in disbelief. Brian says omg cops we are in trouble. I said Nah we not doing anything wrong, ignore them, so we got some random guy to keep taking photos and when I looked up the cops were all laughing.

Bit hard to press charges for 'association with an outlaw motorcycle club' when the motorbike had no handlebars, or seat, or much of anything really. We almost sold the gas tank for $20. I was taking bids at one point. I would have liked to sell it so my homeless mate could have had some actual cash instead of the bomby bike. Funny as hell.

So some drunk at the kebab shop left behind an unopened packet of cigarettes so I smoked a couple then gave the rest to Brian. He was really happy.

Loving my Charles Bukowskian lifestyle. No money, no lover, no fucking future but enjoying the present moments day by day and having a laugh. So Awesome!

8 February 2013

6.21 am. Home from hospital where I insisted on taking Freespirit with attitude who has been sick for 4 months and still hadn't gotten proper treatment! So I stayed with her at the PAH for 6 hours and kept her company while we waited.

I am happy to report she was taken seriously and sent home with a script and a letter to her GP for further tests. Phew! I was horrified to see how much weight she had lost and how ill she was. Now I am satisfied that she is on the books at the Hospital and can get proper treatment.

I myself was constantly coughing and hacking with my bloody asthma so we made a very sorry pair. Glad to be home in my warm bed and really need to sleep lol!

…

Awake, still breathing, Awesome! :-)

8 February 2012

Yesterday afternoon, I bought 4 lovely dresses in Lifeline. Looking forward to wearing them out real soon. Woohoo!

8 February 2010

Mum turned 83 today. She seemed a bit better on Friday but still looks terrible and sleeps a lot now.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons