Memories: 6 December 2023

6 December 2023

9:48 am I woke up ten minutes ago after wrestling with that sleep angel until 2 am ish. 7 hours sleep again which is an improvement but man…my energy ran so high during the night (I went to bed, feeling utterly exhausted at 9 pm!) I should have just run a marathon, or pushed out a new island from the depths of the sea…or something.

This high vibration is killing me. Around midnight I gave in and put on a YouTube video and observed bemusedly that if I had this much energy I should just get out of bed and dust my bedroom. I suppose that my body got some rest even if my brain would not shut off.

I just started my bladder diary which should be interesting!

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Reading “The book of Roads and kingdom” by Richard Fidler page 219. lol. My guardian angels (there have been many throughout my time here on Earth) …are all exhausted and many took early retirement or at least Long Service Leave.

Can’t say I blame them… but G-d in Their Infinite Wisdom is enervating my Neshamah after decades of my most heartfelt, heart rendering prayers. My infamous 11th hour too.

It’s a tad astonishing but I am surprised, delighted and grateful to have this much life force enter my mind body and spirit even at this late stage of my existence.

6 December 2022

Thanks Kylie x all freshened up! xxx

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6 December 2021

I have found a dragon fruit farm at Forestdale who is willing to give me some pollen for my dragonfruit flowers (only one bud at the moment and I can keep the pollen refrigerated for a week!) so I will see if I can get my one flower to set fruit! Just to see if the crosspollenating will work on my very old plant. I am determined to be a “grandmother” to some living thing lol.

6 December 2020

Mama T/The Tanya/The Desired One/Psychedelic Dreamer. Held together by spiritual gold she created like Ambrosia down the back of her throat by speaking out and fighting and living on in the face of great evil: from evil perverted Shit to Gold. An asset, not a liability. A raw Becoming. A Phoenixian fiery Dance. An Awakening. A Delightful dreamer’s Healing!

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Today I am going to have lunch with my nephew by marriage (and divorce!) and his family. I have not seen him for 18 months. So I hope we have a pleasant time.

I bought him a jar of Gefilte fish from Israel as he misses his grandmother’s heimishe cooking and I would never cook Gefilte fish as I hate fish: the stink of it!

I also bought a Black Forest cake so there will be some serious feasting and no doubt Sharing of family histories or hysterias.

Crystal laughed when I told her I bought him Gefilte fish. She said “He’s a chef Mum, why doesn’t he make his own?” I laughed. It’s true but never crossed my mind. I recognised the craving as a desire for connection to the soul of his Jewish roots.

The feeding by the Eternal mother: both Gaia and the Schechinah. So my nephew, son of my enemies, shall have his Gefilte fish and I shall have my remnant albeit broken and carefully reconstructed “family”. Unless it gets toxic....

Update 2021: …haha …and..it got toxic. Last time we saw each other. C’est la vie! We had a lovely time that day though.

6 December 2019

Sitting outside with Charlie. Scathing hot day. It’s gonna be a killer! Drink lots of water, People. My brain is frying just being here. I have my debrief today. Not looking forward to hauling my arse out into this heat.

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Smoke coming through my open front door. Probably from the Sunshine coast fires. My lungs are gonna struggle even more. I may have to buy some kind of ventilator if this keeps up.

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11.01 am. Fuck. Just got up to discover my kitchen is extremely hot. I had left the gas oven alight, on 210 degrees. Big gas bill. Waste of gas.

My grandmother gassed herself 4 months before her 55th birthday. It’s almost 4 months before my 55th.

But I regularly forget to turn off the gas. No big deal. At least it was lit and I am not a smoker. Jesus. What a life.

It’s all good. I remember Eva’s spirit clawing at both my mother and my half sister when they were 54. They were convinced they would die in that year too.

I told them their fates are not tied up with Eva’s and they were being maudlin and ridiculous and would live long past 54. Gisela was 83 when she died one day before Eva’s “Yahrzeit”. Angela, creature from hell, is currently 69.

In my case I tried to slip out the back at 50! But that was for good reasons. But the gods cast me back here and it’s been a rough 4 years with lots of health issues. Including that last gastric event a week and a half ago. But I will survive being 54. Eva can just settle herself back down. And so can I!

But leaving the gas on is an expensive pain in the arse...Aight!

Update 2020: This year’s trick was I accidentally flooded my kitchen floor on Tuesday! Gahh. I am such an idiot!!

6 December 2018

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Nu?! So I go to Carindale shopping centre to cool my heels for a while. Literally. As I arrive up the escalator I see the menorah being prepared for a Chanukah candle lighting.

Wow. Kismet. So I casually saunter around the shops, buy some chocolate for a fress later on. I go have a coffee. Agonise over whether to join the community for the candle lighting (I had considered attending the Sunday event in the city). So I decided, well, I am here. So I stand at the back.

They had a magician for the kinderlach. It was quite sweet really. I did not recognise most of the people and was not really bothered by it. It is rare that I attend jewish functions anymore.

Anyway I espy my friend Regina Burton and her lovely daughter Rebecca whom I knew from old Beit Knesset days. I hadn’t seen them since 2011! Wow, how time marches on.

So we chatted excitedly and later Rabbi Jaffe was lovely and looked me right in the eye and asked if I was well and how was the family? We don’t shake hands as he is a Chabad Rabbi but his strong gaze was rather comforting. An acknowledgement of sorts.

I hadn’t been to Margaret St shule since last year (or early this year?) I can’t even remember. But he is a kind decent man and has always been cordial and respectful to me.

I bought a Chanukah menorah for my great niece and nephew to light candles with. (Even though they are Muslim I am sure their gorgeous mother won’t mind them celebrating Chanukah occasionally).

Rebecca asked the Dreidel character person for some photos which I took showing various reactions to the various letters on the Dreidel. We laughed a lot. We had dinner together.

It was a lovely experience. A Chanukah miracle. We were each given a lovely Sufganiyot (donut with jam).

I was feeling very mood disordered and unsettled today so I am glad my angels encouraged me to go to Carindale and that I had the chutzpah to stay for the public candle lighting and met my friends. It’s not easy being The Tanya, the renegade but I did it.

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Omg! I just had a friend request from my ex brother in law. A spiteful hateful man I completely abhor.

Venus retrograde can fuck off! I laughed so much when I saw it I nearly fell out of my hammock.

I messaged him back “Nu?! Are you fucking serious?!”

The Tanya, always a communicator, direct and to the point.

The halitosis creep probably has seen that I have celebrated Chanukah and been treated with kindness by his son and daughter in law and grandchildren.

We lit the candles together. Triumph over oppression and the miracle of just enough light to reconsecrate the Temple. And so, nu? Do we reconsecrate ourselves. In holy convocation. His little Muslim family and The Tanya (Jew/ witch/ Viking/ warrior goddess/unloved one).

Revenge is Happiness. Mine. Delightful!

Blessed Be The Holy One, the True Judge. Forgive my mortal predilections to Rise and Shine in the face of my enemies.

Psychopaths never change. But I am not here to heal them (they lack a significant portion of their frontal lobe). I am here to heal myself, grow more and more amazingly beautiful (even in my cronedom and last ditch stand for light and love) and to manifest Joy in my own life and with those who truly love and respect me. Amen v’selah!

PS It gets even funnier. Crystal just informed me that it’s not my ex brother in law but my ex sister in law who hides under her husband’s profile. Weirdos!

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The winds are making me feel rather fractious. I want to go out but I also want to stay home. Shuffling in anticipation of what the gods are soon to bestow upon me. I pray it is someone or something lovely.

My heart is spinning with a powerful churning desire and old griefs are washing over me. My gallstones take the emotions and regurgitate them in spectacularly unwholesome ways but toxins must be sloughed off. Also toxic false loves and friends.

The Tanya is making plans for a different life. A world view that is sublime and safe and happy. But plans are not always easy to manifest in reality. Especially for one who is incapable of earning money in her own right. Hohum.

I feel a change coming. Witchy wild winds always spark me up. From one who has survived both the Wahine disaster a few days shy of three years old and the mini-tornado in 1992 in Hervey Bay.

I have survived many other disasters but the gods have weathered me like an old cragged mountain and still I slip and slide down gravelly craggy storm-tossed slopes and try to land with grace and dignity on my tarnished gravel-rashed tochas.

Pat myself down and straighten my crown hoping no one is watching. But there is always Someone watching: pick me up, dust me off, throw me back into the fray. Alive again. Just for today.

Fractured. Fractious. Infected with glee for a life hardwon. Appreciated. I know what this life cost me. It’s beautiful, innit?!

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I have decided to go to Ecstatic Dance tomorrow night. I will have to take a bus as Crystal will have my car until 6 pm but won’t be back from the Gold Coast in time. So I hate Not having my car and taking the bus so that will be an adventure.

I need to dance out some of my grief and pain. Only way I know how to process my “stuff” these days.

Oh yayyy! I have my car after all. Crystal is taking it on Saturday instead. Woot!

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I had my debrief yesterday. My doctor told me I am deeply sad, that my anger is my grief at not ever being able to find a genuine love partner. Instead I am surrounded by psychopaths who come each week to torture me and it must be incredibly draining and difficult to enjoy my dancing (which I do to heal my own body!) while constantly processing the trauma and being hyper aware of the attackers around me in that space.

He is correct. I am so over the evil bullshit. So distressed that not one man in over 7 years was genuinely interested in a relationship with me.

I was watching Vikings season 5 last night and the scene where Lagertha rapes the chieftain is powerful. She bemoans the fact that she can not trust any of her women friends and she is sick to death of being violated.

So when the Norwegian chieftain threatens to “marry” her (himself desperate for connection but also to take her lands and power) she gives him exactly what he wants while he is chained to the wall.

Synchronicity bitches. I was so angry with a former lover who tried to destroy me emotionally at the casino that I gained back my power in an unorthodox way too. (I did not rape him though. Rape is abhorrent! But he raped my Soul so now I make sure whenever he comes to gloat like the verminous travelling epiglottis he really is, that I fuck his mind!)

So here I go: alone but fierce. Courageously dancing to my own oblivion. Waiting for a real man who genuinely loves me and is honest direct caring, faithful and kind. Honourable. Treats me like a queen. With tenderness. With respect. Makes love not war and doesn’t trawl his conquests past me like a smug tomcat with dead trophy rats.

That be nice!

6 December 2017

(Some meme since deleted)!

I took advantage of this reminder by buying fish and chips and a pineapple fritter for an early dinner which I have just consumed voraciously and it was delicious.

Next step: take off my bra and swing from the chandeliers!

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My doctor wants me to gain mastery over my life by (eventually, when I feel ready!) doing courses online that bring me Joy. Or join university of 3rd Age. He said he could envision me gaining mastery over the abuse dynamic at the casino dance floor by instead playing my ukelele and watching everyone else do the dancing! Very cute!

I had to remind him about all the aspects of my life where I have been the universal schmuck and the Failure, where I have been stymied and sabotaged by meshuggenehs and schmucks and how at 52 (almost 53) I am unwilling to risk my peace and sanity by undertaking a degree where at the end of it I am too old and in fact, damaged, to gain meaningful work in it.

But he agreed that it would be something positive to do a writing course or philosophy course or whatever I choose to do online (thereby eliminating abuse dynamics and competitiveness of other humans) and to give myself a sense of fulfilment and joy!

Joy. Mastery. Bliss.

For now my neural pathways are quite jangled and mangled by my self-sabotaging but gloriously hopeful last ditch attempt to learn ukelele in one month. This is so characteristic of the life of The Tanya.

Unrealistic childlike expectations and a deadline I know I can’t keep but anyway, it is the first time in decades that I have challenged myself to try something new and so complex to learn: rhythm/chord progression/strumming/ is not easy to achieve when I realise (after over a decade of being tamped down by hefty psychiatric medications) that I have somewhat of a learning disability.

I feared even early onset dementia (my worst fear that hangs like a Dementor over my head like a Black Plague) as it has been so difficult. But my beautiful dr reminded me that of course I am brilliant in so many ways, but that learning any new skill takes months or even years to integrate into the brain. A child learns language for its first 2 years by listening and observing ie osmosis!

Hmmm...after dancing to wild rock bands for 6 years I should have osmosed enough already but here I am, expecting perfection from a broken Tanya.

Never mind, we have the kintsugi! There will be music and laughter, joy and a measure of my own idea of my own success: Survival to Thrival. But baby steps. I am still toddling about with my nappy ripped off learning to coordinate my life without falling into my own shit. So here I sit. Sublime and ridiculous. Perfectly imperfect. Happy!

6 December 2016

I do enjoy my schadenfreude but in this case the reality remains as less than comic relief. America hired an oompaloompa pussy grabbing moron with lots of money and a big open mouth and very tiny hands to destroy all the hard work of previous presidents and possibly most frighteningly, holds his grubby greedy little irksome hand over the Doomsday button. Arrrghhh. Trumpgrets???

America chose. Now we all get to lie in a bed you made. Don't hump the Trump. Get chaste and avoid the debase. Eat shit and die. Etc etc etc.

Oh wait..where was I? Oh yes. Cuddling up with my schadenfreude. Last time I had major schadenfreude, a psychopathic cunt who encouraged her brother to terrorise me and my daughters in Waterford West for 18 months, seriously lost her shit and exposed her labia majora on National TV. Today tonight. June 2008.

That was the catalyst for dramatic change in my life. The lord moves in mysterious ways. Buck died 2 months later (slanderous abusive conman who robbed me and my daughters first of safety then of my Inheritance) then 2 years later my narcopathic demented mother exited stage left to oblivion.

Then followed 2 and a half years of more trauma fighting Buck's filthy greedy daughters for a tiny fraction of the estate. Liars, criminals, slanderers win in Australia. The land of the convict. Never forget that! Ever!

Ahh but here I sit. 4 years later. Free of the putrid festering ugliness of Gisela, David, Buck the Schmuck, his daughters, Jennifer and Sonya, Gila, Terry, David Davidson.

Freedom at a huge price. But still worth it.

Yet to pay for their evil towards me? Terry, Jennifer, Sonya. The rest dead or have already humiliated themselves publicly. I am grateful to G-d and the angels for taking out the trash of my former life.

Perhaps one day they will bless me with a financially secure life, on a beach in Byron Bay with a life of peace, happiness and love. Not just because I deserve it but because it is a worthy reward after decades of horror and trauma.

Let go! Let G-d! I lost my religion along the way but never my faith in a benevolent G-d.

Even Trump will be trumped. Watch this space!

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Yesterday was a lovely day. (Apart from the mind-numbing heat). Jarrod visited with Harvey. We went to Coles. Jarrod bought us American pulled beef and cooked our dinner. He made a yummy potato salad and coleslaw. I was really spoilt!

We lay under the tree in our hammocks and enjoyed the evening. Then later watched Preacher on Stan. Great show. Twisted. How I like it. Lots of cynical references to god and human frailties.

Update 2020: Miss our Harvey boy. Miss hanging in the hammock with my friend and our dogs.

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I manifest money to fulfill all my goals, aspirations. I want to travel to all the sacred places on earth, all the power sites. All the holy and magical.

6 December 2015

Today I am feeling loved and happy. My beautiful friends bought me drinks and we had such fun being wild and free.

My puppy is awesome. My cats are awesome too. I am awesome.

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Penny will never cede New World Leadership that she inherited when Miss Bella Rosa passed away in 2013. Beauregard has tried hard to knock her off her majestarial perch, with cuteness and Bolshey male puppy madness alone but Penny has seen many cats and dogs and chickens come and go and none have been able to convince her of her need to cede control and guardianship of The Tanya.

I am quite amazed at how regal and condescending she is. Move over, Maltshi, you will always be a dog-God minion in her eyes. I look forward to his ensuing attempts at pussy domination and human mind control which will arise in the coming weeks and months. So far he has met the Swat team and demurred favourably. But he is still only a baby and I expect a power struggle later on.

There is only one rule in Sacred Space. Everyone must get along in perfect Harmony or they will suffer the slings and arrows (cats' hissy fits and notoriously pecking tiny silky hens) of outrageous misfortune until they are whipped into line, for their prominent place in the inter-special hierarchy.

As for The Tanya, she is the source of all comfort and food and much amusement. The Mama Knows Best.

Jarrod Nielsen: Bobo the Kitty Commando is only biding his time and allowing the High Priestess of Haughtiness to think she is the unwavering New World Leader. Just wait for the creation of the New, New World. All bets will be off.

Oh my Jarrod. Too many New new new world leaders. If this keeps up my home will be the centre of the known universes and when the sephirot collide there will be a cosmic awakening and a new universe. Thumbody thtop me! 😉

Also... VY U NO ANSWER ME DA FONE?????!!!!! lmao.

Jarrod Nielsen: This is but one of infinite universes containing infinite possibilities of billions of different new world leaders where there is room for not only a 7 week old puppy to have total control, but each one of us without having world's colliding and spontaneously combusting. Cosmic awakening only takes place when one understands and accepts the existence and complexities of the endless permutations.

Me: I love how you think. Move over, Alchemist! We have kabbalistic permutations to conflagrate. We are each new world leader. Be the change you want to see in the world (worlds). Love you my friend. Especially how you encourage me in my madness 😉

JN: The moon hologram agrees

Me: Beauregard the Bobo Kitty Commando waxed lyrical and moved to the foot of my bed. He had the bottom but Penelope Puss has the top and I am just lying here pondering how much bed will be left to me when he grows up.

JN: Bottom and top are a matter of perspective. I'm sure from Bobos point of view he is at the top of the bed. Lol. From the perspective of the moon hologram none of you are at the bottom or top. Linear measurement is a human construct and limiting mode of thought.

Me: Stop with the Moon Hologram already. You know how that upsets this wolvish Wild Woman.

Haha. I played the song of wolves to Bobo. He was like...what the? My people don't like those people. Bred out the wolf. Haha. His little face was priceless especially when I howled too.

Like Bella, he refuses to howl but talks in little tiny puppy whines. He doesn't even know how to bark yet but when he gets over-stimulated he has a rather frightening growl or snarl. A force to be reckoned with, like his Mama!

Jarrod Nielsen: Would you prefer me to refer to it as the construct of illusion and deception?

Me: My moon, my precious.

Well I am often accused by my true love of being delusional. Love does that to me. Haha. Moon, men and new world leaders. Illusionists.

But I am happy in my illusory frays of imaginary delights and adaptations.

Write the theme tune...to the movie of my life.

Jarrod Nielsen: Given a whole new meaning to the man in the moon. Beware the moon men. They are projections of the artificial construct of illusion and deception.

Me: Lol he is Pisces.like all watery fishy types I am sure the Moon drives him mad too. If not The Tanya does! Men on the moon!! hmmm more like the dark side of the moon with alien space stations. What, me worry?!

Jarrod Nielsen:

Moon = Lies and deception

Wigs = False illusion

Need I say more?

Me: Lmao! It is not a wig. It is real! He had 6 people yank on his hair sat night. As for Moon! The moon is mine. Playground Attraction

JN: It's like the movie "Inception" I tell ya....a hologram within a hologram within a hologram....

The hair may be real, but the illusion of the wig hides what is real under the hair...lolol. Do I need to pull out the fake psychics again???

Me: No, oh goddess noo! No more fake psychics! I will be good I promise.

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My true love came, my true love went but I am so happy to see his mischievous sparkling eyes I don't even mind that he is not with me. My heart awaits, ever-hopeful, ever-loyal. Never have I loved this long or this deeply a man so unattainable . Lol.

As my psychiatrist said on Wednesday. It is safety that I crave. So I keep my heart focussed on one I trust but I will never know if he will ever choose me. Sweet agony and ecstasy.

My heart smoulders in a hell of my own choosing. It grows and grows and never gives up and never dies. Doubts and fears and other people's torpid interferences (which were truly ghastly) have still not crushed my love and my hope.

Powerful stuff. It must be real love. I am happy with or without him, I have friends, cats, hens, goldfish and a puppy. I have the Universe vibrating on a conscious awareness of pure yearning and tenderness. I am myself.

A re-creation from broken tortured suffering that crawled out of the sludge and dross to look over the mountain and fly above the rainbow and taste the nectar of the gods. The sweet fullness of ambrosia that is passion and true love.

One day when the time is right (or my heart is giving out signals in perfect harmony with my loins and hormones (fuck those 'mones), perhaps when I am older, wiser and less unstable, or richer or more gracious in my beauty, he will come for me.

Love is never wasted. It enriches me every day and inspires me to hold on for the man I love and the man I want. I won't ever give up hope that I too, can be his most cherished woman and adored.

Yes, I am a brat. Yes, I am stubborn, but yes, I am deserving of all my crazy ridiculous 50 year old psychedelic dreams manifesting into my reality.

Time takes time but Love is Eternal. Bring on the synchopated resonance!The fun, the laughter, the connection and leave behind the stalkers, liars, cheats who tried to mar my happiness and my life.

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11.04 am. Not much sleep. I have had a snooze with Beauregard tucked in bed but he woke up as he needed a drink so I am awake too. I guess I had lots of sleep yesterday.

If I had money I would go to Byron. I am craving the sea. But all good. Better to rest anyway. Still suffering a delayed reaction.

Bobo and I are getting along fine. He loves Mama's big bed and looks so tiny and lost in it. But like any bloke who actually makes it to my boudoir, he stretches out and claims his space. He actually tried to suckle me then growled when I would not let him.

He is 7 weeks old today. So still very much a baby. Best baby ever. Apart from when Mushu was a kitten. He is awesome too.

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Home safe from dancing. Terina and Sally both shouted me a drink and we danced wildly to the band. So awesome.

I came home to a shivery puppy but took him outside and he did a big poo. So he felt much better. I am now having a nice cup of tea and some yoghurt. Then off to bed we go.

6 December 2014

5.55 am. Home from a great night at casino, dancing. I met 2 guys who were very nice and lived in my suburb, so I dropped them home on my way. We had breakfast at McDonalds first.

The guy I danced with all night complained when I dropped them home that his morning hadn't ended how he'd hoped. Duhh!! I am not a complete free ride, MoFo and if you were that keen, you could have gotten my phone number. Lmao!

Men! Do my head in! But fortunately that is all they get to do lately.

(Meanwhile I still wait for the man I am in love with to get his shit together. As usual I wait in vain...psy sighs!)

6 December 2012

Crystal is out of the surgery! She is fine! I will stay with her Friday night to keep an eye on her. Possibly Sat nite as well! We are gonna have lasagne for dinner and watch DVD's. I am so relieved she is on the road to recovery!

6 December 2011

I slept til 1 pm today, then felt so jaded I went back for a nap at 5pm, woke up at 7pm, have a pain on the right side of my chest...probably muscular! Now off to bed again at 1.26am.

Just beyond furious at the Scherer's affadavits claiming their father and they had a relationship with Mum, dating back to 1988. Well, I know that is perjury for a fact. I hope they go down in a blaze of their own lying ugliness and make complete and utter fools of themselves.

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I received the contentious lying slanderous BS evidence for the court posited by the Scherers today. It makes disturbing reading if you believe their Grimm's faerie tales of who they think I am as a person! It is so dark and absurd and paranoid that is almost a Black Comedy. Well I hope I will be laughing long and last!

They were and are so afraid of my legitimate rights to my mother's estate that they wrote reams and reams of lies and drivel only one day after their happy Marry-age which clearly was not one of genuine love and affection but to make binding in law their salacious bogus Will that they worm-tongued and dictated to my mother to sign! I pray the Judge will see this as obviously as I do!

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons