I’m sad, so very sad and I don’t quite know what to do in a world that doesn’t have her in it.

She was a fucking firecracker. She was funny and bolshy and was a smart arse and gave amazing hugs and would make you make her endless cups of tea (but they had to be strong cups of tea or she didn’t want them) (and she would ask you if you wanted a cup of tea and when you said yes she’d say ‘oh, well while you’re up best make me one’) she was completely unjudgemental of me and supportive and thought I was tops. She professed to being deaf but if you spoke about her from the next room she’d hear you, and she would tease my Dad and when he got cranky she’d mime like she was fishing at him, drove him mental. And every time you’d see her she’d make you do a tour of her garden to show you how everything was going. When it was cold in the town she lived in (as in less than 15 degrees) and I asked her to turn on the heater she’d call me nesh, which appears to be a Welsh word for soft.

She went downhill quite quickly, she was her usual self just 4 weeks ago. My sister and I were in her room when she passed and that experience is well and truly crossed off a bucket list I never knew I had.

I’m wrung out, I just miss her and I hated to see her deteriorate so quickly but I’m also relieved that is was so quickly. She deserved to pass away in her sleep, everyone does really.

I’m just at a bit of a loss at the moment.

My grandma isn’t well. She’s 89 so not entirely unusual but it looks like the mild form of dementia she’s suffered from and lived with for a while is kicking her arse at the moment. She’s confused, she’s agitated, she’s distressed, she’s not sleeping, she’s alternatively paranoid about her family and lovely and affectionate and it’s breaking my heart.

I’m down there with her 2 nights a week at the moment, the rest of the family based there are exhausted looking after her and I wanted to help. She’s back in hospital at the moment and will be assessed over the next week to see whether it’s the dementia or something else.

I’m so sad, I’m smack bang in the middle of a depressive episode and there’s all of this other personal stuff that just keeps piling on that I’m officially overwhelmed. My family is struggling, both sides of the family.

I’m struggling to watch Gram’s deteriorate like this, the moments of lucudity are even worse, where she realises what’s happening and is distressed.

We don’t know what’s going to happen next, we just know that we want to keep her in her own home for as long as we possibly can. That’s the goal at the moment.

That’s all I have at the moment.

Thought I’d pop in and do a quick update, I’m still finding blogging in my real name stifling and hate when people just end a blog without any updates of what’s going on. I’m nosy, I assume other people are too.

Things are good.

MormonHousewife and her family moved to the mid north coast a few months ago so I went on a road trip over the weekend to see them. I miss her face, I miss chatting with her husband and I miss her babies.

6 hours driving is ridiculously boring when you’re on your own. Stella did an amazing job as usual (I love that fucking car) and I got to see where they’re living, I didn’t like not knowing what their house looked like or what their new town looked like. It’s a gorgeous little coastal town and at night we’d go for walks down to the beach, it’s perfect for them. The babies are tanned and happy.

I’m planning a trip early next year to the US with a friend. We know we’ll be staying in San Francisco for a few days and that we’ll be driving from Chicago to New York, still trying to decide if we do a road trip from San Fran to Utah. I imagine the landscape in Utah is beautiful in spring. Apart from that we’ll fill in the blanks as we get closer. I’m ridiculously excited, despite saving up for the trip with rent and a mortgage pushing me into poh child territory.

My grandma turned 89 Monday. I called her to wish her a happy birthday and she initially denied it was her birthday. I can never tell if she’s being cheeky or senile. She then said she forgets she’s this old, that she still thinks she’s either 19 or 70, considering she was fighting in World War II at 19 I thnk 70 is a better age.

She then promised she’d go out and razzle and dazzle. Since this is my grandma this could mean anything, she’s a saucy minx.

I went over to Kalgoorlie for Christmas and to visit my mum and sister. Despite being hot as balls it was a lovely trip. Sabine and I did a road trip and despite seeing a few road trains, a couple of old cemetaries and almost hitting a goanna there’s not much out there.

2012 is still the year of no casual men business. So far I’m doing well. I can’t do what I’ve always done and expect not to be disappointed in the men I’m involved with. I will always choose being single and content over hearing another man tell me between his wife/girlfriend/partner and I we’re his ideal woman, or that a man I start dating is secretly married or that someone is not okay with being seen with me out in public. I can’t do it and I won’t do it. I don’t want to expect that all men will behave like this, because I know men that don’t. I just seem to find them.

Work is going well, it ossilates between being uber busy and ridiculously quiet.

So, that’s what’s been happening. I’m not sure if I’ll start writing here regularly again but just wanted to say hello.

Hello.

Tumblr is great and I love the openness of it, but it’s not the same.

I feel stifled knowing that people I know in real life read it. I know writing here so openly isn’t a smart decision. But I don’t write well anywhere else, it feels like wearing a too tight shirt that digs in and twists and itches.

It’s not rocket science, I’m not going to win any writing awards but maybe I should come back here, maybe password protect some posts?

Not sure.

I’ve set up over at tumblr:

http://mikeechohotel.tumblr.com/

I don’t know what to do with this site, since I’ve been writing here since 05 I think maybe I should print it off or something before I delete?

Hmm, anyway hope to see you at the new place xx

Being grown now it seems like half of my “social events” are obligations relating to friends.

There are hens nights, christenings, BBQ’s, birthday parties, after work drinks and dinners. And I like the people that are having these, yet most Saturday nights I find myself putting “fancy” clothes on (i.e. not my pyjamas) and dragging myself out somewhere to do something when I’d prefer to be at home, or catching a movie, or catching up with the people I’d like to catch up with when it’s convenient for both of us.

Maybe it’s because I don’t host stuff, maybe it’s because I’m a hermit and find socialising exhausting but this time of year is jam packed full of stuff and all I want to do is have a Saturday night at home watching Law & Order: SVU.

Work is grossly busy at the moment, we’re closing down our head office and moving everyone to other offices. It’s been a while since I’ve spent hours in a server room and crawled under desks plugging in phones but I’ve been doing that a lot. Carpet burns on knees are not sexy.

My summer of drunk plans are coming along swimmingly, one day a week involves vodka and it is good and I am enjoying it immensely. I’m also enjoying spending more time with Beth to be honest, it’s been years and years since we’ve just hung out and got sloshed and I really really enjoy it.

I’m thinking that I’ll close up this place soon, maybe move to tumblr and have something in my own name. I’ve been blogging for years and I’ve (touch wood) been very lucky that friend/family discovery of this place has been minimal.

I was thinking of giving Beth the web address for this page and opening it up, but I couldn’t tell if things I write or wrote about would offend her or other friends and I think that’s probably an indication that I would offend them.

I don’t want that, I don’t subscribe to that blogging philosophy of I’m just writing my feelings and if you’re offended by it suck it up. I care very much about hurting people I know by things I’ve said or wrote.

Besides I’m very fucking boring, my posts bore me and I’m sure they bore you too.

So yes, I’m signing out, if I set something up somewhere else I’ll write about it here.

Otherwise, thanks for all the fish my loves.

(Ignore this one, just verifying the blog.)

(Also hello!)

I especially like how he did exactly the same thing last season when his team didn’t make the finals. Except his partner was pregnant that time.

Charming man.

It doesn’t seem to matter which football code it is it’s a rare month when a player isn’t involved in a scandal relating to sex or violence.

Let me just say this upfront and whole heartedly – these men are disgusting excuses for human beings, their attitudes and behaviour is abhorrent.

With that said these men are trained, supported and encouraged to be aggressive, violent, physically strong and full of testosterone on the field by families, friends, team-mates, sporting clubs and coaches.

And people are surprised when they act like this off the field?

Colour me fucking stunned.

If you create an animal, hell, you reward him for this type of behaviour what do you expect?

The thing that fucks me off is that Australia is never going to change their attitude towards footballers, they’ll never stop creating these men.

There are simply too many supporters who are willing to excuse disgusting behaviour off the field of the players provide results on the field. It’s the “boys will be boys” excuses followers give, the “she was asking for it” attitude when it’s a sexual scandal.

I’m not even going to start on the men themselves, I don’t have enough swear words to go there.

Sorry for the rant, I’m just disgusted at yet another one of these stories and even more furious that there’ll be another story next week/month.

(There’s a common thread here, promise I don’t think of my sister when I shower.)

(I just vommed a little.)

So there’s a line in the Oasis song Morning Glory “all your dreams are made, when you’re chained to your mirror and your razor blade.”

I was in my early teens I think and I patiently explained to Sabine that the line was about shaving, that the Gallagher’s were simply complaining about shaving every day.

She tried to explain to me that it was actually about drugs but I was not having it.

Not those nice Gallagher boys.

(I was an idiot, obviously.)

Sad face.

The GPS tracker attached to him hasn’t transmitted anything since Friday and they think it either fell of (the story we’ll tell kids) or he got eaten (likely.)

I hate to be a complete shithead about this but this penguin is an idiot and the fact that he survived the original journey is a miracle against natural selection.

Homeboy was rescued with 15 kilo’s of sand and twigs in his stomach, they think he mistook sand for snow.

I can understand mistaking sand for snow the first time lil’ Happy Feet tried to eat some. But 15 kilos of it?

Idiot penguin.

(With that said I’m still hoping he might be still be swimming his way home and the transmitter did actually fall off.)

(Shut up.)