Colin the whale is going to be euthanised. Sad, yes, surprising? No. Look, I know its a baby, it’s a whale, the whole of Australia is saying oohhh poor thing, we HAVE to save him. And wouldn’t it be nice if we could? But we can’t. And just personally I really can’t see how spending millions on one whale who might survive can be justified. If the whale had of been abandoned in open sea and died naturally there, no one would have known, nor would they have cared. Let’s be honest now, the only reason everyone is so up in arms is because it’s visual. Animals die every day. It’s a part of nature, it’s a fact, and we can’t save them all.

What really bothers me is the people who comment on these stories and blame the govt, the vets, the experts…the only person they haven’t blamed yet is
Pat Conlon, but as soon as they find out he isn’t extending the tram line into the ocean to save colin, no doubt they will. If these people want to save an animal, go to the animal shelter and adopt one. It really peeves me that in such a throw away society as ours, where cats, dogs, rabbits, and other pets that become an inconvenience are abandoned with such ease, there is a sudden uproar about a whale. Mothers abandon their baby animals, it’s a fact of nature. We see it on the farm all the time, especially during a drought, sheep and cows wll refuse to feed their young because they know instinctively that there isn’t enough feed to provide their milk supply, and their main instinct is self-preservation. We hand feed, bottle feed etc, but we can’t save them all, and sadly some don’t make it. In a society that is blaming the rising cost of petrol, rent, groceries etc on the fact that they took the family pet to the RSPCA because they can’t afford a bag of dog food every week, doesn’t it seem rather ironic that people now want the Govt to spend millions on rescuing Colin?

Before you open the comment box and take me to task for this entry, consider this…tonight, in  numerous parks, bus shelters, salvo bins and train stations, homeless people will be trying to survive yet another winter night. If you truly want to show your compassionate side, go and buy some blankets and donate them to the hard working people who find and assist the homeless. Cook them a meal, give them your jacket. For an hour of your time and $20 out of your pocket, you too can save one of the abandoned ones. But you won’t, will you. Because they’re only human, and no one gave them a cute name and put their picture in the paper.

Some people wander through life without really having a great effect on others. They come and go, and no one notices them a whole lot, or misses them a great deal when theyre not here anymore.

Then you get the people that come into your life, and without really even trying, touch it in a special way. When those people leave, they leave a space that you think you can't fill.

And in a way you're right...you cant fill the space they leave with someone else, because no one else is like them. No one else has that special way of making you feel worthwhile and loved.  No one else can smile at you in the way that tells you they might think youre acting a little crazy right now, but they know why...no one else can just nod at you to tell you hey I'm right there with you, it's cool.

What do we do when someone like that goes away and leaves a space? I dont know what other people do, but I think it's best to just leave the space there...it's not as empty as it can appear, sometimes it's still full of the things you learned from that person, and the good things  you remember...like pancakes shaped like kittens, and a good kick ass wrestling match where the good guy wins.

In real life we know the good guy doesnt always win...but he does always stand up. No matter what the personal cost is, or how much other people just dont get it..the good guy stands up and he does what he knows is right, and he doesnt care what other people think.

this is for Sam...Sam stood up, every time he had to, without fail. He stood up, he picked up and he cleaned up...to the very end. Sam was a good man. To be able to say that about someone and know it's true is a valuable thing. Sam left a space...but it's not empty. It's full of memories and lessons..and birds that escape cages with a little trickery. Sam left the world safe in the knowledge that he'd lived the way a good man should..he took a little piece of everyone he knew with him but he left us all a whole lot more. I'm proud to have known him.

Sweet Dreams Sam

Ar dheis De go raibh se.

Read this article in the local rag today...

A MAN who beat his partner to death after she told someone he hit her sometimes has been jailed for at least four years for manslaughter.

Sentencing Edward David Zammit in the NSW Supreme Court today, Justice Roderick Howie said Zammit had pushed his partner against a fridge and a cupboard.

Zammit, 55, of Dharruk in Sydney's west, had pleaded guilty to the manslaughter of Deslie Ward in May 2006.

The court was told they had been drinking with Zammit's ex-girlfriend, who asked Ms Ward whether Zammit ever hit her.

When she said yes, Zammit had become angry.

He later threw her against a fridge, causing her to bounce and hit her ribs on a bench.

The next day the abuse continued, with Zammit throwing Ms Ward against a cupboard.

The judge said Zammit had been addicted to alcohol since he was 24, and set a maximum term of six years and three months jail.

Well there's the answer then...in NSW, 1 life is worth 4 years minimum. Not alot really is it? Considering this asshole is 55, he will be out before he's 60, ready to retire and live on the pension, subsidised no doubt by people like me who pay tax to make sure scum bags like Zammit can sit around and indulge their addiction to alcohol.

Fuck that...he should have to give one year of his life for every year of his victims life.  He didn't accidentally kill her, he didnt run her over accidentally, or hit her with his car because she stepped out in front of him suddenly, this wasn't a household accident, tragic but unavoidable. He beat her to death...he waged an ongoing campaign of domestic violence against this woman, and also against his previous partner, until he finally stepped over the line and KILLED her. Why? Because he COULD. Because he was bigger, harder, stronger, because she was weak, scared and hopeless.

I know some of you are saying well she could have left, she could have called the police, she could have fought back...yep, she could have. But she didn't....does that mean her life was any less valuable than mine or yours? Did that give him any right at all to push her, shove her, kick her, punch her?  No it doesn't.

If you  cant control your temper, or your alcohol or drug intake, and you kill someone, then you deserve to go to jail for the term of THEIR life. That's fair..that's a small semblance of justice. I don't give a fuck that he is an alcoholic..thats his fault, not anyone else's. I wonder how her parents feel, knowing their daughter was worth 4 years of this scum bags miserable life?  Knowing that in 4 years he will be walking around free, not giving a fuck about what he did?

I know how that makes me feel...it makes me hope that someone in the jail he ends up in thinks that he got off too lightly too, and shows him what it's like to live in abject fear every day of his worthless life. Just personally I hope the scumbag has a nasty accident inside and never sees the outside of jail again.

But that's just my opinion.

Weirdness abounds on the internet...after what seemed to me to be a pretty harmless blog about Supre I got some interesting mail.

Apparently..."supre rocks and your a fat cow" (direct quote, the spelling error is not mine)

"why do you hate asians you old hag"

"your fat and probly ugly to, get a life" (ditto the spelling error)

Now you can see why I titled this post WTF? Because really..what the fuck? I hate asians?  50 kilos is fat?  I cant really attest to my general ugliness, because I'm not really into whats attractive in women and what isn't, but no one ever ran away screaming at the sight of my face so I'm figuring not...

Supre may indeed rock..I dont think so, but thats my opinion. For all the people currently logging in to tell me my opinion means nothing to them,  dont bother, it's not meant to mean anything to YOU. Although I do have to wonder why they would bother reading it if its so meaningless? Perhaps they were bored in computer studies class or something?

I'm not sure how they got the hating Asians part figured out, but hey theres no accounting for misinterpretation now is there.

God knows what reactions I would have provoked had I actually written something of great global importance, it was a blog about a shopping trip, I think some people need to get wayyy over themselves.

And do me a favour weirdos...read someone else's blog will you...and send them your silly, misspelt emails. You're nuts.

Ok its official...I feel fat. Now I know that most women feel fat at some stage in their day/week/month/life...however it's not really something I've ever been concerned with. I was blissfully unaware of my hugeness until today. There I was, not so happily being dragged around the Westfield by my best mate R, shopping for clothes..for her, not me, new clothes are optional in my life, I'm happy with the old clothes in my cupboard...when suddenly Supre loomed in the distance. Apparently we had to go in to this store...for reasons unknown to me, of course, but arguing with R is like putting a bandaid on a bad case of Herpes and hoping it will magically dissapear, so in we went.

Shops like Supre should be illegal. Or at the very least they should have a public health warning on the front windows. Because I can guarantee you, no matter what size you are, if you are a normal woman, once you cross the threshold of this store, you are instantly transformed into a hippo. A large hippo.

It's not just the tiny clothes that make you feel this way..although considering that their sizes start at XXXsmall...come on, no one is THAT small, except perhaps Karen Carpenter, and she's been dead for an exceptionally long time...it's also the sales assistants.  Now I dont know about you, but I take offence to being greeted by someone with the body of a 5 year old boy and the personality of a stick insect. No scrub that..I've met some interesting stick insects. Honestly, the girls in that store were so thin  I had the distinct feeling that Supre do their staff recruiting at the eating disorders clinic at the RAH.  Add to that the fact that all the clothes racks are placed so close together that actually moving around the store requires the talents of a very underweight contortionist, and you'll have some idea of what I'm getting at.

It's no secret that I dont like shopping. I especially dont like shopping for clothes, in large shopping centres. I have now decided I also dont like shopping for clothes in stores designed to make average sized women feel uncomfortable and self conscious. I mean really...I'm hardly on the large size..I weigh about 50 kilos on a good day...but when I pick up a t shirt branded small and it looks as if it MIGHT fit me as a crop top if i stretched it to the max...I get pissed off. Not because it makes me feel fat, but because I know that some 14 year old girl who has an image problem is going to look at that shirt and think not that the shirt is too small for her...but that she is too BIG for the shirt. And that sucks. It's stores like Supre that contribute to the feelings of inadequacy and low self esteem of teenage girls, yet that is their target market. Those young girls dont realise that the clothes they see on the rack are churned out in some OS sweat shop by tiny asian women for cents apiece, they really believe that they are too fat for the clothes.  And that is only reinforced by the tactic of employing skeletal girls whose daily diet probably consists of a packet of splenda and a glass of water...bottled of course.

The average size of an Australian woman is a 14-16...and interestingly enough, i noticed that on most of the racks of clothing the "larger" sizes were gone, leaving me with the impression that XXXsmall is NOT a popular size in that or any other store...so why not brand clothes correctly? 

I've decided that I'm giving so called "designer" stores a wide berth from now on...I think I may be too old to try and squeeze myself into clothing that is supposedly my size but in reality only fits on half of my body. Screw Supre...I'm off to Target where size 10 really MEANS size 10, and I can buy a t shirt that covers all the bits its meant to!

It's Christmas time again...the 25th of December seems to come around quicker every year. I can remember being a kid and thinking that the last week before xmas would NEVER pass. Now it seems to be here right after the first week of January.

I love xmas..always have. It's always been a special time in our family. A time when we are all together, no matter where any of us are living in the world. We're Irish so we love the tradition. The tree, the lights, the tinsel, the decorations. I remember decorating the tree with my parents and my brothers when we were kids...the decorations, then the tinsel, then the lights and last of all the angel on the top. Some people had stars..we always have an angel, made by my Grandmother the first year she lived in Australia, before I was born.

My Dad was a tinsel nut...our house was practically covered in the stuff, inside and out. Even the trees had tinsel on them. When i got older and moved away from home, the first thing I would see when I went home for Xmas was the property gate, open and welcoming, wrapped in red and green tinsel. I always knew I was home then, and Xmas was officially started.

When I look back now, I feel incredibly lucky to have had those times. I can sit and look at the Xmas tree in my house, with the same angel on top, and recall the smells, the music, the laughter that we all shared. I was the only kid who thought Santa smelled just like my Dad...a mix of Old spice, wood and pipe tobacco...it took me a few years to work out that the Santa who visited our house Xmas Eve WAS actually my Dad, but even then it didnt matter...the magic was still there.

When we lost our Dad, I thought the magic was gone. But today, looking at the Xmas Tree in my house, I realised that it wasnt gone..it was just a different type of magic. And for the first Xmas since he left us, I got down the wooden box with the hand carved wooden ornaments in it that my Father made for his children and his grand children. 7 wooden soldiers for his 4 sons and 3 grandsons..and 4 wooden dancing dolls for his daughter and his 3 grand daughters. They're priceless..and I hung them on my tree and remembered how much my father loved Xmas..and how much I love him.

Then I looked at the pictures of my nephew being Santa for the kids of his work mates last week...he smells like calvin klein and doesnt have quite the tummy of his predecessor...but he has the same magic as the man who taught him how to love his family and give of himself to other people...and the magic of Xmas came back for me.

Merry Christmas friends...

love from Kat

xxx

So...I went to the supermarket yesterday. Those of you who are knowledgeable about my pet hates will know that I'm not overly fond of the supermarket. However the natives were getting restless at my house and I noticed one of them comparing the size of the cat to the size of the microwave so I thought it might be best to do some shopping.

Of course everything I wanted was on the top shelves..I think all supermarket shelf packers are abnormally tall and think its funny to watch short people not being able to reach what they want. They probably have hidden cameras to watch us.Bastards. I'm always tempted to move stuff around just to make their job harder.

Anyway...I was doing ok, until i came to the aisle with all the tins. I dont usually stop in that aisle because I dont trust anything that comes in a  tin. Except maybe JD and coke...but sadly you cant get that in a supermarket. Shame. However the tin aisle...is that what it's called?...was blocked by a lady who was obviously in the middle of a dilemma, having to choose between sixty different brands of baked beans, and who had left her trolley sideways blocking the aisle.

Because I'm the patient and kind type (stop laughing) I didnt push her trolley out of the way, I waited...patiently and kindly ( I SAID stop laughing...I know who you are) and amused myself by looking at all the different things that you can buy in a tin. The list is endless...peas, corn, potatoes..??...beans, spaghetti..and not just plain spaghetti either, it comes with all kinds of things like sausages and meat balls and cheese and ham and god knows what else...and guess what...you can buy hot dogs in a tin!! Imagine that...not that I would eat hot dogs...but imagine buying a tin of hot dogs..I wonder if the whole deal is in that tin...bread roll, sauce, cheese...nah , probably not, because it wasnt a very big tin.

But my very personal favourite was...steak and kidney pie..in a TIN! It's true...they somehow stuffed a whole pie in a tin. I would love that job...I think it would take considerable skill to jam a whole pie in a tin then seal it up, with none of it getting out. Imagine the job satisfaction in that...I wonder if the people that do that are called pie wranglers? And what will be next? Roast chicken with all the trimmings...in a tin? This could be a life saver if you're a lousy cook like me...just open a tin and there you go..instant dinner!

I think i was glad when the trolley lady finally moved on...it was getting scary in that aisle. I had visions of unloading dozens of tins into my car boot and taking them home. They should stick to putting normal stuff in tins...like soup or sardines..and leave the steak and kidney pies to the bakers I reckon.

Ok I admit it...I bought the pie and I'm going to make one of the boys eat it...because I HAVE to know what it's like!

It must be charity week in Adelaide. For someone with an unlisted phone number I sure seem to get alot of cold calling from people raising money for various good causes.

Now don't get me wrong...I don't mind giving to charities. I do it often. What I DO mind is getting phone calls from people who seem to have "found" my number on a "list" and cant...or wont..tell me where they got this list from. I'm not at all sure I want to be on lists like that. Actually, I know I dont want to be on lists like that. Because lists like that fall into the hands of irritatingly cheery people with names that people wouldnt really call their children...never trust a cheery person on the other end of the phone. They want something. Every single time.

Like Jodi from the WWF...Jodi wanted me to sell raffle tickets to raise money for orphaned and ill treated animals in small third world countries. Which is fine...I fully support ill treated animals..and I have an adopted dolphin in Port Adelaide, a sun bear somewhere in Indonesia...I think...and two pandas in an obscure Eastern location to prove it. When I suggested to Jodi that I dont really have time to sell raffle tickets because I work 60 hours a week, she asssured me that was fine, I could buy them all myself. Hmmm...Jodi was less cheery when she hung up.

then there was Summer from the Guide Dogs. Another fine organisation...guide dog puppies are soooo cute...but I dont want a calendar, a tea towel or anything else with them on it. I also dont want Summer to tell me that my name is on "the list" when I asked where she got my number unless she can also tell me who compiled the list and provided her with it. The origin of "the list" is obviously classified information. And so is my Visa card number. Sorry Summer.

But I would have to say my favourite caller this week was Trey...Tres? Tray? goodness knows how you spell that...and who would call their son Trey anyway? I would never admit that was my name...not even to a stranger on the phone.  Trey was selling sponsorship of poor children in third world countries. Good for Trey...I'm sure he isnt paid enough for the sterling job he does. Trey was a graduate of the hard sell school...he appealed to my better nature by telling me how I could give a child fresh water, food, education, clothing, etc etc..all for less than the price of a cup of coffee a day. When that didnt work...( I dont have a better nature, someone should have told Trey that) he took me on a guilt trip..."dont you CARE about these children?" well I wouldnt say I dont care..I would say that I prefer to choose what charities I give to without the help of smart mouthed little boys who make the mistake of calling me when I am asleep after a 12 hour night shift. I told Trey to call me back after he had sorted the economy of the country that he was trying to sell me children from, and organised their Government to stop spending charitable donations on luxury items for themselves while their citizens died from starvation. Trey didn't have an answer for that,so I took the liberty of hanging up on him. I'm sure he understood why.

I know charities need to raise money. I give to charities in supermarkets and shopping centres, and other places where they accost the unsuspecting and extort money from them, but I really think that this hard-sell approach that some organisations have adopted is going too far. And i definitely dont like my private phone number appearing on lists whose orgins for some reason cannot be revealed. I think I will be going to sleep with the phone OFF the hook until charity season is over, because I'm starting to feel like one of those clay pigeons in a shooting gallery.

So you find me "distasteful" do you? Really...well you know what...that little revelation has left me feeling positively suicidal...no honestly...I dont think i can live with the fact that someone like you, such a fine exmaple of the human race, finds ME distasteful.

What a great load of utter BULLSHIT. Let me tell you what I find distasteful buddy. I find small minded, nasty, MEAN little individuals with over-inflated senses of importance distasteful. I find arrogant, ignorant jackasses with less personality than flea dirt distasteful. But MOST of all...I find smug, self-righteous little fuckwits like YOU distasteful.

Go and look in the mirror...like what you see? No, and neither does anyone else. I would suggest that you stop worrying about how other people are managing to cope with all their personality defects and start to concentrate on your own, because its about time you got your head out of your ass and realised that YOU are the problem in your life.

The only thing you find distasteful is the fact that I'm happy. I'm sure you'd be much cheerier if I were wallowing in self-pity and misery, but I'm afraid I cant accomodate you on that. So you carry on with your self-flagellating and your blame and your accusations, and delude yourself into thinking that anyone else actually gives a fuck about it. Just leave me out of it, because I dont care how you feel, I dont care what you think and I dont care what you say. From now on, keep your opinion of me to yourself, because it's not worth me wasting the 2 seconds it takes me to read it.

Oh...have a nice day. Elsewhere.

I left work monday morning about 6.30 am...it was still dark out, and the entire city was blanketed in heavy fog.

I love fog..it mutes the normal early morning city sounds, and makes you feel as if you're driving through a ghost town. The city buildings that look so mundane in the normal light are shrouded in mist, making them appear faded, and the street lights glow a yellowish colour.

The fog was so thick down Port Road that I couldn't see the usual morning landmarks..even the traffic lights weren't visible until you were almost upon them. when I got to the GJ road intersection I couldn't see down commercial road to the light house, so I kept driving down to have a look at how the fog affected the wharf.

totally awesome. The light house slowly appeared out of the fog, just like it must of looked when it originally stood in the ocean as a warning to ships. the whole wharf was covered in low lying fog, and the Birkenhead bridge was a black shadow against the sky. I stood there for awhile listening, and the only sounds were the water ripples against the wharf,everything else was muted by the fog.

I know alot of people think the Port isnt such a good place to live, and yes it has its moments. but on days like monday..when the fog lays low on the wharf ,the whole world seems to be asleep, and the port looks like a scene from a vintage postcard...I think that I would never want to live anywhere else.

Sunny days in mid-winter...who would have thought!

The last couple of days here have been lovely...blue sky, warm sun, no rain in sight...the kind of day that you just cant sit inside and do nothing on. Obviously spring fever has come early to my house, because everyone was acting just a wee bit weird on Tuesday.

I've had a couple of tea chests packed away in the shed for awhile now that i've been meaning to sort out and get rid of, And since Boots has been making "theres not enough room for my bikes" noises in the general direction of them, I got him to drag them out into the sun for me to deal with. Remind me next time to not nail the lids down so tightly...:(

Anyway, I was going through the stuff in them, helped by the cats of course, because it was sunny out and they wanted to play with EVERY thing, and after i sorted a few different garbage bags full of stuff to donate to charity etc I went inside for a drink.  Now here's a handy hint for anyone who lives with grown men who both have the day off and are bored...dont leave them unattended in the kitchen. Or the hallway. Or anywhere really...in fact, dont let them have days off!

J and Boots  had obviously decided a little snack was in order. They were both in the kitchen feeding their faces on huge salad rolls they'd made for nunch. Nunch, in case you were wondering, is not lunch...which is the standard reply to the question why are you having lunch at 10am? " It's NOT lunch..."...see how that works?

Anyway, they had made salad rolls and were eating them, but the conversation they were having at the time was clearly of great import, because they were STILL having it while they were stuffing their faces. All I could hear was muffled munching sounds...not unlike the sounds the pigs make when you fill their trough...but those two were following the conversation perfectly. It was really a pretty cool trick, I have to tell you that I was impressed...not only were they having a conversation with their mouths full, they didnt drop a single crumb...how good are they?

I didnt stay for the finale, which i believe involved a litre of iced coffee, but I'm sure those two both have great careers ahead of them in ventriloquism should they choose that path...back to the boxes.

While I was gone the dog had decided to lend a hand, and neatly dissected a teddy bear, which the cats then put to death thoroughly.  You cant be too careful with those wild teddy bears, they can be quite dangerous!!! The dog wandered off into the house after I expressed my delight in having to pick up teddy stuffing from the back lawn, and the cats did their usual denial of any involvement.

With the animals all having done their bit, I got down to some serious sorting and ended up with a bag of winter clothes for the salvos, a bag of teddy bears and junk stuff for the kids over the back to play with and some other sundry crap that I dont need now, including two cook books...cook books? What the HELL was I thinking? Still, they'll make nice firelighters...lol

thinking that it might actually be safe to go inside and get that drink now...because nunch was over and lunch isnt for another 1/2 hour, i opened the back door to be greeted by...a skate boarding dog.

Yes..J had discovered his old skate board while we were in the shed...and since he has outgrown it, he thought he might teach the dog to skateboard. Down my hallway...down my highly polished, very well maintained, unscratched, took hours to get it looking this good hallway. I have to note here that the dog wasnt a keen participant...and she doesnt have real good balance either...lol...poor thing, she's a little on the tubby side, and wasnt that thrilled to be loaded onto a skate board and rolled down the hall to the OTHER guilty party waiting at the end.

Honestly...you cant leave them unattended for a second...and i DONT mean the dog either! They both made a quick exit, sans dog and board, and I didnt see them again for the rest of the morning...but thats ok..because on their NEXT day off they will both be riding the floor polisher while they get my hallway back to its original condition! Oh and I gave the skateboard to the kids over the back too...because I dont like their mother and i hope they ride it down HER hallway!

I cant wait for summer!  

Just recently it was suggested to me that I hate men. I am, it appears, un accepting of men, and push them to a point where they become hostile toward me.

Hmmmm...now this isn't a new thing. I have been accused of being a man-hater before..granted, its usually by some bloke I've told to piss off, but it has been said. I just find it a little hard to equate my lifestyle with my apparent dislike of the male species. I have four brothers..I share a house with 3 males..kind of odd for a dedicated male hater wouldn't you say?

I don't hate men...not as a collective. There are a couple of men I am not overly fond of, but that's on a purely individual basis, and trust me when I say that they earned that dislike all by themselves.

It seems to me that there are some people who use the tag man hater toward women as a convenience. When women wont lay down and be a door mat for them, when we wont agree with their opinions, cater to their needs or wants or do what they say, the problem isnt with them, its with the man hating woman that's denying them what they want. And when they lose their temper, and occasionally lash out, well thats not their fault, it's because that man-hating woman pushed them to it. Funily enough, I've seen some blokes who have no problem hitting a woman walk away from a fight with another man. Of course that would have nothing to do with the fact that the bloke who wants to fight them is bigger than them...of course not....perhaps they just dont push them far enough?

Well, if it makes you happy to think that your troubles are all caused by the fact that I'm a man hater, power to you. I would imagine that thinking that would be preferable to admitting that any fault lies within your own attitude and behaviour.  However I would be pretty keen to lay money on the fact that theres an awful lot of man haters in your past, and probably even more in your future. Still, the bright side to that is...it wont ever be your fault will it!

So many things I wanted to tell you when you called. You're so far away now, out of reach but never really completely out of mind. It's hard to cut the tie isn't it.

I just want you to know that I understand what you're feeling now...your rage, your pain, your sense of bewilderment, feeling totally powerless to do anything about whats happening. I still dont know if its better to expect it or better to not have to cope with that knowledge on a long-term basis. People will tell you that everything will be ok...we both know thats not always so. Make time now for what you need to do..to say..or there will always be that small wonder...that worry that you left something unsaid, undone. Don't. Whatever you have to say, say it in your way and it will be understood. One word or a million...it doesnt matter. Awake or asleep, it will be heard, and whether its acknowledged or not, feel some comfort in saying how you feel.

I know you feel alone, I understand that. It's small comfort to you to be told that theres people who care about you, people that are trying to understand and help you get through . When all is said and done, you will cope in your own way, whatever is best for you, and some people might find it selfish, but you do what you have to do, and even those that feel hurt will understand why. It may not seem like it now, but you will come out the other side, a little scratched and dented maybe, but still in one piece.

Be strong. And know that i will remain, as always,

your friend.

It seems that some people do in fact live in the internet. They conduct their whole lives in the internet in fact. They meet, have relationships, get married, have kids, cheat on each other, get divorced..all in the great big world wide web.

Or at least thats the way it seems. Personally I am soooo sick and tired of the constant crap that these people and their desperate need for attention crank out..day after day, drama after drama..and if they cant find a drama, they create one..simple as that.

You know what? I could care less about your stupid lives. I dont care who youre sleeping with, who youre married to, who youre seeing behind whose back...I couldnt give a fuck to be honest. I dont want to hear that your hubby has left you for some scrag he met on the net or that she stole him, or that she doesnt look after her kids, or that she's fat or a bitch or a slut...I DO NOT CARE.

All I want is for you, your fucked up friends and your pathetic attempts at attention seeking to stay the hell away from me and not bother me with your problems.  I didnt create them, I dont care who wins or who doesnt and i certainly dont want to be involved in the bullshit that seems to dog people like you from sun up to sun down. I've been watching it for years and to be quite honest, it's become boring.

You dont live in the internet, you live in the real world. Get your ass off of the net and sort your problems out there, dont do it here,and certainly dont do it in any forum or blog or small corner of the internet that I inhabit in my SPARE time, when i'm not at work or having a life in THE REAL WORLD. If I want a soap opera I'll turn on the televison.

Now kindly fuck off.

Oh...and have a nice day.

Ah home....where the heart is so they say.

Every time I come home, I have to drive into town to see what's changed. That's my ritual, I do it every time. Its not usually a great deal, although progress does touch us "country folk" as well...I can remember the first set of traffic lights that were installed at the main intersection in town, what a day that was! But that's another story...

My home town is a lovely place really. Right on the tip of the Penninsula, with great views across the ocean and lovely Norfolk pines planted in the main street. If you're lucky enough..or rich enough...you might live in one of the hill houses that overlook Boston Bay...views you wouldn't trade for anywhere else in the world. Well, apart from the jolly green giant..the big grain loader that sticks out like..well like a grain loader I suppose. A green one.  I'm not sure who thought that particular tourist attraction up, but it is handy for the grain growers.

I'm also pretty fond of the Marina..they built that for the city people who like to sail the couple of hundred kilometres across Spencer Gulf to spend the weekend playing golf with their cronies. They're not the reason I'm fond of the Marina tho...the Marina has  top class mooring facilities, and the very sizable trawler fleets take full advantage of them...much to the distaste of the weekend warriors who cant get the best berths..it's good when the trawlers are in port, you can usually score some very fresh seafood for very few dollars, if you have half an hour to spend listening to the latest updates on the state of the fishing industry. A small price to pay for a world class meal I reckon.

So again, nothing too major has changed. All the familiar sights are still here...The milkshake bar, the feed store run by Mac and Mac jr, who is my age but looks much older, and who still likes to remind me that we "pashed" at the school social in grade 7, the pub I like to play pool at, my old school...some things come and go, depending on the economy, the drought, the change of seasons, but one thing doesn't change and probably never will...

coming home is still good.

Hmmm...havent ranted for a while. A few people have asked me why, and I guess it's just that I've been busy with other stuff. Things got a bit on the weird side this year for me, lots of things happened in my life, you might want to call it life-changing or you might not. Whatever...personally, I think the biggest change was and is to the way I'm seeing things now.

For awhile there I was seeing things in a pretty negative way, the changes that were happening seemed to be all loss on my side, and it didnt feel so good. There were a couple of major blows to what we'll loosely term my sense of selth-worth, and I was feeling pretty lost and let down in some major areas of what I considered to be important.

But as the year draws to a close, personal things seem to be reaching a conclusion also, and I'm feeling alot happier with how my path seems to be travelling. It's taken a new direction, one that seems to be alot calmer, and its enabled me to slow down a little and check in with my reality chip. I seem to be achieving a sense of peace now, which is probably due to those changes, and to having some more positive influences in my life. I think we all reach a stage in our relationships with others where we have to look really hard at how those people are affecting our well being, and sadly, we sometimes have to face the inevitable truth...and that is, that some people just aren't good for us..no matter how much we would like them to be.

I spent alot of time this year thinking on a couple of things that I really thought "were meant to be". I'm drawing the conclusion now that those things were actually "really meant to be the way they turned out, even if it wasn't the end result I wanted or hoped for." For some time there was a sense of sadness about that..but being a fatalist, I guess I have to see it for what it is...some things are meant to be, and some things are just meant to be for now.

I was talking the other day to  a friend about some of the changes in my life lately, and how unlikely they would have appeared to me just a short time ago. She said to me "if it makes you happy, it has to be good."

She's right..it does make me happy. And it is good.

=^.^=