it's all about the money...

or the lack thereof. thanks to my a$$hole boss, i am now officially broke. as in haven't been paid for work i did three weeks ago. i am not amused.

and i think what burns me even more about the situation is that i'm always the one doing the extra work, taking on tasks that aren't mine to do, just so the show happens smoothly and this is the non-payment i get?

well, fck that. from now on i'm only doing what i (occasionally) get paid to do. let someone else do the skivvy work for free. it'll leave me more time to read the classified ads and find a new fcking job.

bollocks

i had so much i wanted to say when i got home today. half a bottle of wine and i can't bloody remember any of it anymore.

To the Other Gemini

It's time to wake up now. This is week 13 since the accident and we all want you back. I don't know how much longer i can cope with out my (younger) gemini twin being around to chirp me crap.

please come back soon.

love you.

Strange, ain't it

Often the nights that, on paper should be the biggest fuck ups and start out looking like absolute hell, turn out to be the ones that really rock.

what a party last night. i am pleasantly surprised that middle-aged insurance brokers can jol like that.

song of the day: immigrant song - led zeppelin because as soon as someone requested that last night, we kind of all knew it was going to be ok!

A life lesson...

it is never a good idea to put two drunk girls on the front seat of a car and then drive down fields hill playing kiddie punk. infinitely amusing for all other passengers, but a bit of problem untangling drunken limbs when one of the above mentioned girls has to try and get out of the car!

SOTD: scotty doesn't know

Taste of Thomson

Is going to be a kick ass show. Everyone should come and watch it. More on that later.

i've had two hours sleep. went to work at 11am yesterday, got home at 5am today. going back to work at 12:30 and prolly working thru the night again. i have bruises everywhere and the skin is peeling off my fingers from cleaning sheeting with thinners for 4 hours. i can't speak coherently and i have never had bigger bags under my eyes.

but i still fucking LOVE my job and would not trade it in for anything.

Pick a Face. Please.

because your habit of having two is really starting to piss me off. stop trying to please everyone. it's impossible and you end up upsetting someone somewhere along the line. stop telling me one thing and doing another. i now have no idea where i stand with you and because of this you have bought a one way ticket out of my inner circle.

AND NOW. you.

when you bitched and moaned that i was supposed to be one of your bestest bestest friends and how dare i not tell you stuff, i let you in and told you something, not something that would bring my world crashing down if it got out, but still something that wasn't to be repeated. and you did repeat it. and when i found out i was gutted. i have kept your secrets and been your shoulder to cry on for years and this is how i get repaid.

AND lastly. you.

PUT SOME FUCKING CLOTHES ON! and act like a professional.

that's all.

Apologies

for the silence. normal broadcasting will resume when a)inspiration hits or b) i've slept some

sleep

i dream (or i would, if i ever actually got to sleep!) of a whole 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. hell. at this point i'll settle for much less. 6 hours. no disturbances. heaven.

it's official

Cath has decided it's time for us to grow up:

Cath: Megan! No, seriously, we've both had kids, it's time we grew up
Megan: Ok. You first.
Cath: NO! I had a baby first, you grow up first!
Megan: Um, no.
Cath: Ok, love you bye
Megan: OK, love you

So from now on, it's tea instead of jack daniels, cross stitch and decoupage instead of partying and gardening instead of whatever other debaucherous stuff i currently occupy myself with.

now, one more post and then i have to go and read a Keith Kirsten book on re-potting the lavender.

ramblings for someone

i hate seeing you like this. it frustrates me that you have to carry other people, make sure they're ok, keep them going, and are left with nothing for yourself. and it blows my mind that still you have time to just call and make sure i'm still ticking over. that means so much, you have no idea.

i wish there was something i could do, but you're too fucking proud to lean on other people and you're suffering for it.

there's so much i want for you. i want you to be able to relax. i want you to have the space you need. i want you to not have to worry about things that shouldn't be yours to own. i want you to be free to be you all the time, not just when you're with the select few. most of all, i want you to be happy.

song for today: paint it black - the rolling stones

it's all clear now

i always resented you both for treating her better. i resented all the days that i had to sit outside school waiting or find my own way home because you had something else to do when she never had to. i resented the loads of washing, the dishes i washed, the meals i cooked because she never had to. i resented doing my own ironing when you did hers. i resented having to pay for my own tickets when you paid for hers. i resented never having your support when i was competing because you never miss a single competition she competes in. i resented being ignored because you always have things to say to her. i resented you for loving her more.

but now it's clear that you do what you do for her because she can't actually look after herself and it's time to thank you for allowing me to be independent because i can survive by myself and she can't.

i had a dream last night

you came to my house and just held me for the longest time and said you were coming to fetch something. you looked so tired and sad and i wondered what was wrong.

this morning when i woke up, i wanted to phone you. it took me a couple of minutes to remember that you were gone.

today's song: one more suicide - marcy playground

Christopher O' Malley
Went out on a bridge
Down in Chehalis
And clutching his bible
And a letter from her
Fell into the river
Pity no one was there
No angels in the air
And the morning paper ran
One more suicide

His mama stayed by
The river side
Down in Chehalis
And clutching her bible
And a letter from him
Fell into crying
Pity no one was there
No angels in the air
And the morning paper ran
One more suicide

Pity no one was there
No angels in the air
And the morning paper ran
One more suicide
One more suicide
One more suicide