Post Fifty-Seven: Go Forth, My Friend the Explorer.

This picture is pretty awesome. I think it was taken a couple of years back at a halloween party, and my great friend Lynda and I seem to be doing what we do best (ie. drinking and being stupid.)

I've been thinking heaps about loss this week, both at work and in my personal life. Lynda isn't dying (thank jeebus), but she's moving to Canada to go have general rad times. She's leaving all her close family and friends behind for an undetermined amount of time because she's always wanted to go... but never really worked up the courage to do before now. A few tears fell out when we said goodbye!

I'm super excited and proud of her, and can't really believe she's fitting all of her life into a suitcase and seeking snowier pastures. Her leaving has made me reassess too whether I'm on the right path, working full time, being 25 and having never seen snow

I wonder how many dead old people that I meet actually travelled abroad in their life, apart from their efforts in war time. Did they ever pack up their shit and relocate to a place where nobody spoke their language, or you couldn't find a 7/11?....I know my folks didn't travel overseas until they had baby number two. That shit be crazy! How will I know that I'm not meant to be a Moroccan until I've been there, or maybe I'm destined to marry some Alaskan Goat Herder.

Anyway, be safe Lynda B!
Have wild adventures and seek the mooses. x

Post Fifty-Six: Pretty Birdy.

I really want a pet at work. My bosses are totally against it, but I don't see how they think that this will be counterproductive to improving my work performance.

Just think, how much will it improve my morale, my general work satisfaction, if I was permitted to keep a little budgie on my shoulder while I worked. Apart from the whole pooping situation (I already wear PPE anyway, just the corpses might cop a bit of splatter) I just don't know why it's not cool with the suits up the ladder.

My only hesitation would be if the fumes from some chemicals might get up their little nostrils (ooooo I need to google their nostrils, above their beaks I guess?). That would not be cool. Any vets or animal lovers out there that know about this stuff, could you fill me in?

I'd take him home in the afternoons and weekends and feed him all the fancy seed he wanted. I'd teach him to say cool things and fetch me suture string and cotton....What an amazing idea. Seriously, I need to open my own business!

Happy weekend peeps, love your work.

Peace. x

Post Fifty-Five: Doctors Appointment Confirmation.

[The Doctor : Thursday 26 August] : The drive show, yo. Hyperlinkin through the galaxy...

So, being the technofool that I am, perhaps this is todays interview link??? Quality blogging Sarah. What a dick.

Smooch! x

Post Fifty-Four: The Wardrobe Bandit

I almost wet myself laughing in the mortuary yesterday.

A beautiful little old man was in my care, and I was getting him ready for his last hoorah. He had a really characteristic face and I instantly loved his company. I got the feeling that he was going to play a practical joke on me, and I swear he still had a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face even though he was very ,very dead.

It was kind of weird, because I noticed in his bag of clothes he had three pairs of pants and three shirts. There were no notes alerting me to what outfit was preferenced so I picked my favourites and set to work.

The comedy unravelled when I noticed that his singlet had another mans name label on it. I checked his shirt, and that belonged to a third man... I wondered if this deceased man spent his last days pinching clothes of other residents of his nursing home as a last little fuck you to his enemies.

After continuing to check the rest of the garments, they all belonged to other gentlemen.... I think there were eight different names in total! What the hell was going on there, my friend the wardrobe bandit!?!?!

Oh....and I hope y'all caught me on jjj this arvo, sorry I didn't announce it or anything but I'm a bit of a retard with that sort of stuff. To be honest, I forgot because I bought myself my first bottle of gin last night and had a little bit too much fun getting loose. I have now learnt never to drink on a school night as hangovers in the mortuary are not desirable. Repeat, I will not drink on a school night again yo!

You'll be able to grab the chats with Linds as a podcast that will no doubt be up soon, tomorrow, tonight??? Who knows.

Peace. x

Post Fifty-Three: Excuse Me, You Have Something On Your Shoe.

Mondays, why are you so mean?

I started the day off with some gangrene. Oh my, it was not pretty! Gangrene is the pits yo!

Then, in the afternoon my aspirator hose flew off the tap whilst in use, sending stomach contents, mine and the deceased's, across the room. It was like a scene from Dexter, seriously. I knew there was a lot of mess, but for about 15 minutes I didn't notice the wad of intestines on my gown and my boots. Sorry lady, but It looked like I was wearing your insides as accessories!

Hmmpph.

On a brighter note, I'm keeping my mind in a happier place...In October I'm heading down to Melbourne to see Mariachi El Bronx. Needless to say, I'm super excited and I can't stop thinking about it.

Thats all folks. Boring one day, thrilling the next.

Peace. x

Post Fifty-Two: A Proposal, Seriously.

I know who I want. I want you, Michael Cera.

Out there, wherever you are, you should be here with me. I don't care that you seem to play the same roles all the time. That role is perfect.

You make me laugh. Plus, you seem nervous all the time (or you are at least good at pretending) and that makes me feel ok about being nervous all the time too.

So, I want to marry you. Cool? I don't care if I don't know you. I think I'm ready to take that chance. Well, I only care if it's all a big lie and you are a dick (But I just can't see how this is possible as you have cool friends and laugh about good things). We could at least date for a while and go skating and make cookies and play guitar hero?

Note: I just watched Paper Hearts, a fun mock-doc(?) movie starring the glorious Charlyne Yi and Michael Cera amongst a pretty cool little cast. I love love loved it. Charming and artistic, hell funny...all without being too indie. Yes, I loved it.

Peace. x

(why is the weekend over!!!!)

Post Fifty-One: That Time With The Reaper, Him and Me.

I almost died once. Actually, twice.

The first time was in Western Australia on Mothers Day in 1987. Poor mum.

I decided that, being the dickhead toddler that I was, I'd escape from the house and the questionably watchful eyes of my older sisters. We were at my mums friends house in Balga, and I vaguely remember walking around the front yard looking at this womans flower garden and picking up rocks to add to my collection...I collected pebbles and sometimes still do. I guess chilling out in the gutter on a busy street isn't a particularly safe activity for a small child?

Apparently, mum and dad were going out for a mothers day luncheon with mums friend and her husband. They thought I was safe inside so they got into this womans car, mum and dad buckled up in the back. As they reversed down the curb they felt a little bit of a bump, then heard what I guess was me screaming my little head off. Literally. They'd reversed straight on over me, the wheels narrowly missing my tiny body but the number plate smashing my head open as the car dropped over the curb...

I don't know if I've reconstructed the memory or whether it is etched into my brain. I feel like I can see the underside of the car when I close my eyes. I think I tried to push up on it, to get it off me, but I don't know if it would have even been over me for long enough for me to react like that. I can see my dad screaming at the woman, telling her to "shut the f*ck up and drive me to the hospital".

The poor lady was hysterical (as you would be). My dad craddled me in his arms in the middle of the rear seat with my mum next to him his right, so mum was holding my oozing head. Then, I think I blacked out and I can't remember any more of the journey or the operation to follow.

After this, I remember (or have built the memory of) waking up in a cot in the hospital ward. I thought it was weird that I was in a cot, because I slept in a big bed already. My head felt huge, and I cried out in the dark to the nurses that were illuminated in the hall but no-one came. Only the sounds of high heels and air conditioning surrounded me. I felt like I cried for ages, but I realised that I had a new teddy that someone must have given me, so I decided to chew on his ear for a while instead. That is all I remember, but I have a nasty scar, a triangle skull and a bald patch to jog my memories. Oh, and I still have my hospital teddy.

My second narrow escape came in December 1999 at Maroochydore Beach, QLD. I was 15, awkard, introverted and desperate to grow some boobs. I'm still all of those things, apart from 15. Oh....shit.

It was school holidays and my family and best friend Jo, along with her parents, were vacationing at the Sunshine Coast. We did this for about four years running, and I remember being excited about it for the whole year. I always thought I was going to have a summer romance and finally kiss some blonde haired surfer boy, but this was never the case. I didn't have my first kiss until I was 16, no 17! (I got drunk on Red Bear vodkas at Cassi Devine's (her real name!) 18th birthday party in Redcliffe and made out with a seedy hip hop loving guy from the local state school. Ugh, we made out on the trampoline in front of everybody and I'm pretty sure he wanted to have sex with me. It was very, very gross and I regretted it for years.... I came home with the worst hickies, wore a turtle neck for about a week and my mum smirked at me for days.

Anyway, Jo and I decided to go out for a swim in the surf on the second day of vacation. It was a picture perfect Queensland day, but the surf was a little rough. I remember wishing that I wasn't so peer-pressured into wearing triangle bikinis because I had no boobs and if the surf got too rough I'd end up with the yellow top around my belly button. Jo had an amazing rack, blonde long hair and was pretty much a babe, so when I hung around her I pretty much tagged along wishing to sink into her shadow.

I remember being in the water up to my knees, and the next second I was under over my head. Apparently, we found ourselves swept out in a crazy rip which I didn't think was possible in that type of depth. Seriously, the water was kiddy deep.

Quite a few people were caught in the rip too, and I remember hearing a heap of yelling for a while before things went silent. Jo sure was pretty, but she was a lousy swimmer. She grabbed my arm from the right and started panicking and before long she was pushing me under to get herself some buoyancy. (bitch).

I do know, at this point, I thought I was going to die. About six huge dumping waves washed over us and with each one I lost a little more hope. After that set, Jo was washed a couple of metres away from me so I had a moment or two to breathe. I looked out to the shore, which was by now so far away, and the people standing on the beach were tiny little dots. They looked so pretty, like little colourful jewels. I said to myself "Huh, cool. I'm gonna die. " It was very serene, very calm, and I was ready.

Then, and this is the weird part, a really cute blonde surfer guy grabbed my hand out of nowhere. We did the egg-beater together (this is not a euphemism), and after the next set of dumpers he managed to get out that his name was Luke and that he was a fucking life saver from NSW that was on holidays! He too was stuck in this mega-c*nt of a rip, and we waited clenching hands, in the washing machine moments that seemed like forever, until the life-savers that were on duty could get out to us. Only one life saver came, Luke stayed out in the surf for a moment while I was thrown onto a surf board and pushed back alone on a wave to the shore.

I came out with the biggest wedgie, and the biggest crush imaginable. I remember walking out of the water and I couldn't hear anything because I was in shock, but no one ran up to hug me. It was weird, as I imagined everyone on the shore would've known that I almost died. No one really noticed me so I dumped the board and ran behind a sand dune to gather my thoughts (and pride).

Later, I found Jo. She was already over it and I could tell she wasn't willing to talk about the fact that she did try to drown me to save herself. I let it slide because she had met up with Luke and his other hot friend Jai and we were apparently going to hang out with them that night. Swoon...

It all ended pretty miserably. I think Jo made out with at least one of them and I awkwardly stood around as the nerdy geek friend and watched them both drool over her. But, and I'm thankful for this, I didn't die.

Peace. xxx