Memories: 6 January 2023

6 January 2024

I finished this pendant today. It’s a late Christmas gift for Jarrod.

6 January 2023

I have had a nice day. A walk with Bobo and Charley followed by a visit from Lyn. We sat under the trees and chatted.

Later Peter came past with little Koko so I got lots of poodle pooch kisses as well. I am still not feeling well but that is life. Hopefully this goes away soon. It’s not pleasant.

6 January 2022

I have spent most of the day decluttering my mother’s old market stock. Then I made a beautiful pendant from an antique sterling silver pickle fork.

Then my daughter arrived so I had her sort through all the old market stock for anything she wanted to keep for herself or to use in art projects. Then I brought out the broken jewellery hoard so we sorted through that to give to Bethany who is very artistic and will make lovely things from it.

So now my room is looking emptier and saner by the minute. I am keeping only the beads etc that I know I will use in my own projects. The rest can just gooo!

My new sterling silver bezel wire arrived today so that will be my next learning journey. Teaching myself how to set gemstones in bezels (which involves soldering!) But I decided to start buying supplies when I can afford to, as this will inspire me to begin. (When the muse hits!)

I went through my scrap box of sterling silver and decided to make the pendant today. Rather randomly! I also cut out with my jewellery saw two round disks out of scrap silver. Tomorrow I will dome them.

So these few little jobs took up most of the afternoon and evening. I may have to re-glue the pearls on the pendant tomorrow. They don’t feel like they are setting.

Tired but contented and freeing myself of old defunct energy feels good too! 🙂

6 January 2021

It has just come to my attention that some of my writing on Facebook do not come up on my “Memories”. I stumbled across the last one as it was one I had sent a copy of, to my psychiatrist for my file and so I realised that it was missing from today’s memories.

Hmmm. I must print out the ones that have great writing or good stories. They just get lost in fb world otherwise.

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Yes, in November 2018. Black Douglas standing beside my bed. Well, sorta floating beside me as I could not see his feet but saw his kilt, shirt, face and hair very clearly.

I closed my eyes as I could not believe them and opened them again, he was still there! So calmly I asked “what is your name, spirit?” And in ticker tape banner writing across my minds eye he said “Black Douglas”. Then he disappeared.

I had to google who he was and discovered he was Sir James Douglas, the friend and compatriot of Robert The Bruce!

I still have no idea what his message was or why he appeared at my bedside while I was watching Gaia docos on my laptop. I was fully awake and conscious so it was very startling!

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4:23 am still not sleeping but feel very aware of an intense movement in the Force. I just need to ride this wave to its penultimate outcome, praying that it is beneficial, with harm to none and competition with none. That my angels bless and protect me as only they have the higher knowledge of what is most needed in my life right now. (um...sleep!) lol

I will be resting today as I will be over tired and ergo over-stimulated.

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Busy morning. Making home made granola. Made some more paper pulp. Humidity is intense. Sweating. Yuck. Another storm due today which will break up the atmosphere somewhat.

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Waste not...want not. From refuse we can and must rebuild.

Never fuck with The Tanya

She is still wanting to have some fun before she dies (for real next time).

Never ever everrrrr let the bastards grind her (me!) down.

Let Infinite True and Holy Love be my guide, my protector and my bliss.

Amen v’selah. Why Selah? It is an adjuration (adoration?) to the angels. Who were the Angels? Beings that visited our earth from another dimension or planet.

The gods...extraterrestrials. BUT I still believe in the One God the one consciousnesss that created all lifeforms across the multiverses.

We all Belong. But some of us have forgotten whom We are and Whom We stand before. Some have chosen to do evil in the sight of the Holy One.

So the One must pick off the verminous treacherous fleas that fed upon the Host and cast them back into the vortices of existence for as many eons as it takes for those dark ones to “wake up” and rejoin the one consciousness that is Love, equilibrium, peace, respect and decency ie righteousness.

I had to almost die at the hands of vile mortals one too many times for my spirit (my Neshamah) to finally reaffirm its mission.

Wake up no 37. Wake up sleeping beauty. Wake up from the psychedelic dreaming that swirls in eternal conscious awareness but is also the Jungian shadow that sabotages and depletes me and verily kills me.

I sipped from the glutted lustful tables of fools. I stared down mine enemies. I even cursed them. Bound them to their karmic grindstone where they now await me with glee.

So I could grow back into Life again and find my peace and my light and my joy and reclaim my long awaited love which is a prized treasure not yet fully activated because.... I refuse to submit to cruel empty hollow men with snake-like dicks and split ie fractured personalities and such weak ineptness that they cast their lovers at me like whorish Babylonian mirrors. Portals from hell which shimmer and shade as the mirage of love for The Tanya. Demonic!

A real man would never try this with me. It’s an old trope deployed before by past lovers. A game of one hand slapping its own meat...just saying.

But the gods are watching and waiting and have thrown me high into the esteem of unseen ones that still mysteriously love me and have my back.

Why? Even I do not presume to know that but I have an inkling it is/was because I did not give up and when I finally tried to die by my own hand (my defiance) they vomited me back to Earth to complete my mission (my Curiousity!) to advocate for the gods of light and for those still stumbling in Sisyphenian turmoil. Still burdened with baser derelictions of honour and duty.

I myself do still have a long long way to go in my Becoming. I still have anger and fear and conflict and resentment for all the abuses hurled at me.

Infinite love will heal me one day or one moment or in one breath away but They are too intrigued by the quest to realise my mortal body could not sustain that much more trauma. I shit you not!

As my evil treacherous half sister used to say to me (to victim blame as she refused to stand with me every time it counted). “A mind is a terrible thing to waste”

Well I clawed my way back into my own psyche with 20 years of therapy and the capricious vicious life affirming near death experiences hurled at me by rapists and murderers. I grew back. I am riding my own broomstick now, driving my own chariot named Ein Sof and recalibrating my own Neshamah daily.

Thanks to God!

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Busy morning. Making home made granola. Made some more paper pulp. Humidity is intense. Sweating. Yuck. Another storm due today which will break up the atmosphere somewhat.

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6 January 2020

Watching Dracula on Netflix. The British dry or rather wry humour is rather delightful.

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6 January 2019

“When going through Hell...just keep going!”

Trigger warning: suicide, mayhem and muck. Fuck it!

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I don’t know how to process all the events of last night JG he/early this morning. I had been gifted so many synchronous signs from the universe but had tried to ignore them. Knowing full well that I was being prepared for a ghastly horrific putrescent shock.

I can’t even...but life will go on and my heart will go on and my enemies, so sick and disturbed they cannot stop stalking me at the casino shall merit their own Reckoning. The karma train just wrecked them.

I was not joking when I asked the gods to reveal true hearts and minds and how quickly (within days) did that filthy ex lover and his new love interest (she of the putrescent stinking vagina) pony up.

Now I know his fascination with taunting me. He has outdone even himself in his bid to destroy me and now sits with a woman who used/abused and betrayed. Water finds its own level.

It is so ghastly and revolting but as I have always done, I will rise above it. He is not worthy of me. Not of my love or my seeping grief which has begun to stink worse than that foul woman’s vagina.

On a more beautiful note: I am valued and loved by a few rare precious humans. Another acquaintance came to me early in the evening. Stood silently next to me. Suffering. Tears gently coursing down his cheeks. I said “Are you okay?” And wiped the tears from his face. I said “you need a cuddle!” I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my body close to him. Held him very very tight.

Knowing...that as a complex ptsd sufferer like me, knowing the general vapid cruelties of so many in that venue, knowing he recently attempted suicide, knowing that no one really cares and they will push us to our own immolation. Push and push and push. With their filthy empty evil consorts and their filthy empty evil stalker friends.

But this man needed me and I was there in his moment of agony when so many, so many were never there for me in mine.

I held him and I was Earth mother/warrior goddess/pure strong comforting love from one who has known decades of treachery and heartache and desolation. One who walks the edge of her own razor blade daily.

He said “Sorry” (for crying and being human) and I said “Never ever ever apologise to anyone for being emotional. Ever!” For as much as we are vilified for our hearts and minds and authenticity we are ennobled by it. It is our superpower. One that only the spineless and cruel can never comprehend.

I let him go with strong admonitions: don’t do anything stupid. Don’t suicide and don’t kill anyone.

Later he came back to tell me he was feeling better and had won money (a delusion?) I worried for him most of the night but on my walk to the 7-11 I had my own foul enemies to face!

He had already stalked me at the Livewire bar and my Irish friend had begged me not to turn around and look at him. I said “I will not live in fear of any man, ever, ever again. Not even my Beloved!”

I did not turn around but minutes later I spotted him spying behind other people in the crowd like the gormless gimp he really is. His creep friend blatantly stared all night long but he has been doing that for 4 years now so I just rise above, rise above. And fucking Shine.

The band played Zombie and in full passion and fury I moshed to it. I turned to my Irish friend. “Never forget the IRA!” Staggered back almost ready to faint. Held my own.

A survivor. A warrior goddess, converging ancient timelines, ancient tribal traumas and ancient, spiritual but desecrated Loves. A love that exists in another paradigm, out of mind and out of time, out of my brokenness and out of my soul.

Gifted then sullied so much that now he sits with filthy ghastly women and I...I was begged for a kiss by a young drunk man as I walked past the two ghouls and their putrid ugliness. It was then I lost it. The universe will push and tweak and kick and even rape me until I lose it, will it not?!

“A kiss? I am very fussy about who I kiss these days. Too many nasty filthy dirty people in this city”. “Go on, it’s just a kiss!” “Get away from me, young man!” I marched into the 7:11 past 4 streeties outside, all looking at me in awe. “Not you, not you” I said “you can never be as filthy as what I have just seen”.

“Give us some money”.

“I just gave a tenner to your mates outside the casino and told them to split it between them to buy a pie and I hope they have honour amongst men and share it, so no I can’t afford to buy a pie for everyone, I am sorry”. I stomp into the store and buy my customary 10 red licorice straps

The young man behind the counter, who a few weeks ago told me I was hot when that strange woman bought me a pie (“pay it forward! She had said!) chatted with me about business being quiet. “Everyone on holidays, Inshallah it will improve”, I said.

I stomp out and look at the homeless men. I had told one of them I recognised him from Holland Park and Mama T never ever forgets a face but love his work. So I felt bad for calling him out on his bogus itinerant status and said “Boys, here, one for each of you, just so you know I am no Bitch!” Like good little boys trapped inside men’s bodies they graciously accepted my sweet sweet peace offering.

The one who I recognised said to me “my missus died on Boxing Day so I won’t be at Holland Park anymore”. “I am sorry then” I said “this city absolutely crawls with pathological liars and filthy dirty people and I get so sick of it!”

He nodded, knowing, as only a trauma survivor on the streets can Know that I meant those others squatting like toads at the kebab shop. I leant over “here, let me gift you a kiss that was so much desired”. I kiss his cheek.

The young dude still hovering says “Hey I am still waiting for mine!” I reply acidly “Get away from me, you freak”. The 4 homeless men look at me in awe and wonderment. I stomp past the ex lover and ex friend, saying “Enjoy the untreated chlamydia that still refuses to get treatment after 4 years of her foul stink!”

They deserve each other. Putrid ghastly humans. I walk back across the street delighted that the crossing sign was green.

The two homeless guys I gave 10 bucks to, show me gleefully that they have split the money with 2 fivers.

“Good men” I say “I like to see honourable people. I am pleased!” One of them says “40 years in the Navy, Love” I reach down to him. Shake his hand. “Thank you for your service” Shake his friend’s hand. “Thank you for...well no reason at all!” Grin at him impishly.

A young man rides up on a skateboard. My energies twang all over the place. “Got a dollar?” He says. “Nup! And get away from me as you are macked off your face!” “no I’m not! This is my uncle and I have ADHD and Asbergers. I am not on anything! I am homeless”.

“Yeah yeah, don’t be telling me your problems, I have had quite enough for one night”. I look at him again, see sincerity in his face. Soften, slightly. “I have many friends with Asbergers. good loyal solid people. Bless you!”

I stagger in my very high heels back to the casino, get in the lift, drive home. To my dog, my cats, my bird. On the highway I think, I could just end it right now. All of it. All the horror and grotesque tragi-comedy bathos of my entire existence.

But I remember my own advice to my acquaintance earlier. Don’t suicide, don’t kill anyone. In between those two extremes.. do what I want whatever. Breathe. I got this!

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11:11 am. Water finds its own level. All is well. I am loved.

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6 January 2018

TRIGGER WARNING: CSA, Domestic Violence, Spiritual attacks. The Tanya whining about her odd Berserker Life. You know, usual blathering and necessary purging. Healing myself by speaking my truth and my memories.

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I have been single for 23 years as of 1st Jan 2018. Hard to imagine that I was ever married at all. So long ago. So much horror.

But last night reminded me of my raison d’être. Freedom, joy, wildness. Love. So much love. What I was created for by a Benevolent G-d. So many pitfalls along the way. But look at me now!

The child that was thrown across a room at 3 to keep me safe from my raging father, into a glass door by my mother for saying No at 6 years old, was slapped so hard I fell against another wall in that rental home at 74 Seymour Rd Elsternwick when I again said No to Cees’ sexual advances.

I swore at him and threatened to tell my father (which was a bluff as I had known since I was 6 years old that my parents had no intention of protecting me from my mother’s friends/lovers). I was 9.

At 11 I was already suicidal (being constantly bullied at St Kilda State School and living at home with dangerous crazy people). My father dragging me to every Christian Spiritualist Church in Melbourne soothing his own obsession with the gods/spirits/death whilst at home my mother cracked Cees’s tooth for his inability to remain faithful.

Haha. He kinda had it coming but I was raised in an environment where Love meant Betrayal, Danger, was perverse, toxic, unsafe for me, the child. The Tanya. The Desirée “the Desired One”.

I developed an irrational anxiety for the gas heater in our apartment in Milton Street, Elwood. (Bear in mind my grandmother gassed herself in her oven in 1949).

Mum and Cees would leave me alone each evening after dinner for several hours and I would imagine demonic presences pouring through the grill of the gas heater.

The energy of intense smog-like terror would coalesce until I would run screaming and sweating to my bedroom and lurch onto my bed from the doorway, turning off the lights as I ran, cowering under the blankets praying (in those days to that utterly useless plagiarised pilloried Jebus man who was also sacrificed to a cause he never actually signed up for).

I told my father but as usual he did not know what to do so his response was to take me to the spiritualists. “Save me, save me”. Too young to save myself.

No money, no safe parent to go to, living each day in a hell of epic proportions until eventually I got married. At 19. Seeking a home and a family and of course, safety.

Haha! Another kind of sacrifice. I thought it was a worthy one for a short time. Then after my escape from that stunted development of a goddess Viking warrior jewish witch wild woman (am I really a label/a gender/a title thrust upon me by the debased and ignorant?) I learned of even greater fears and hells.

Attacked and strangled not once but three times. The last 2 attacks by lovers. The first one orchestrated and paid for by my then husband. Cowards and evil bloodless curs. All of them! Enabled and even sponsored by the State of Queensland.

Australia, Mate (NZ no better or safer for little children and adult survivors). Where Justice is Just Ice and the criminal is lauded and sits in his wig and white collar behind a gavel and his sychophants. (He has a degree or two, you know. Wise and benevolent).

Yeah right. Greed and abuse of power. I made that cunt flip his wig when I called him out on his misogyny after watching him destroy the lives of every other woman in that courtroom that day.

This place has cost me dear but it’s ok. I get to play now. I get to lift myself up from the gravel floor. Broken but sublimely beautiful.

Love. Does not exist for me. Not yet. Another wall in a glass prism I can yearn and reach for. A captive in a golden cage. “Please release me, let me go, for I don’t love you anymore.....”. Cees crooning to his guitar, Gisela wiping sentimental tears from her eyes.

My father smiling indulgently and clownishly. Tanya, as usual rolling her eyes. For the love of the Fuck these people had no idea what Love was or is!

But I know I have held on for too long, cleaved my celibate body and soul to a man who was disinterested for too long. I became my family. Pathetic. Weak. Cloying. It cost me Love. Real abiding Love. For 30 years it cost me my very Life.

The hands are no longer on my throat. The hands that once ran across my naked body like a finely wrought instrument. Hands that had touched me in a quiver of delight but came and came and came. Then went. Glad to see them go. Evil. Vicious. Cruel.

But I know what real love is. Do I? I do, don’t I?!

It is everlasting, noble, loyal. Faithful and beautiful. It is delighting in small things. It is a touch that you know will never betray you. Will never leave you. Not because it can’t leave, but because it chooses every day to stay. To be with the One we choose, out of joyfulness, freedom, tenderness and respect.

The hands that held me down and stopped me from providing a safe, prosperous, peaceful life for myself and my children. I curse you. I curse you to the 7th hells of the 7th hells. As much as once I had love for you.

The punishment shall exponentially fit the crime. I forgive you, but the Great Spirit that designs our karmic playhouse, only S/He/It will set us free.

Psy sighs!

Last night we danced, my beautiful Jenny and I. We danced our mystical Cronedom. We danced our joy. We merged our consciousness with the auric field.

Hell, even that dj that usually kills my vibe with awful techno/house shite honoured us with a variety of music that was pleasing to our already exhausted but over-ridden senses. For the first time ever, I thanked him and gave him a thumbs up for playing well!

Love. Validation. Peace.

Peaceeeee. Pleasure in small things. My Precious is coming. I don’t know where or when but I feel him close to me. Perhaps in another dimension. Perhaps here and now. The heart Knows it’s own synchopated resonance.

Poor Tanya of the psychedelic dream. Queen of her own Life. Goddess of her own Becoming. Daughter of Abraham and Sarah, whose genetic spawn wreaked murderous horror in my life. Call off your ghost dogs.

Davidson! I adored you, you of your own self-proclaimed “magnificent penis”. The man who tried to kill me with his twisted perverted love then told all his bullying ignorant friends (and future wife). “Tanya can Do anything”. I walked out on them then.

It took many more years to blow life back into my corpus. To find out exactly what I can do. Survive. Believe in myself and learn to jive on my way to Thrivedom.

A long hard slow process. Meet me in Byron Bay someday.

6 January 2017

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I love Facebook. I have friends from all over the world. Some are even famous singers, musicians, actors, writers. I feel so blessed to be able to interact with people whom I admire and who have Inspired me over many years.

I love being surrounded by positive, successful people who share funny and important memes. I love Janis Ian's Trump memes and Bette Midler's witty epithets.

I love how we can all share our concerns for our planet with humour and the occasional Serious rant.

I am blessed and grateful to know all of you. Thank you.

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I moved my Womandala to the back door. I had to clean up her crystals with acetone as the varnish had gone icky and sticky. So now she needs a bit of repainting.

One of my few art pieces and one of the best. I loved the fact she terrified most men and Jehovah witnesses coming to my door. Haha.

Still laughing at the Maori plumber that came to fix the sewerage drains for Qld Utilities that commented "Whoa! Is that a pregnant woman I see at your door!?"

I said "Yeah, my Womandala! Why? You scared?!"

He grinned and said "Lady it's not pregnant women that scare me, it's their babies".

I hear ya. Nasty little screamers but hey, someone has to do it. Been there done that. Now waiting for Godot as my kids refuse to breed.

Oh well. The craziness stops with my line. Not such a bad thing in the broad scheme of things.

6 January 2016

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I am so angry I can't breathe right now. I found a letter I thought was meant for Crystal. It said Crystal's Mum. When I read it my blood boiled over.

It was from her last landlady who extorted money from Crystal when she landed in France and harassed her for months with lies that Crystal Left the place in a squalid state which has me so furious as I helped clean the place and I was one of the last to leave so I know for a fact we left it clean!

I have rung this evil lying bitch and threatened her with the police if she ever contacts Crystal or myself again.

I also rang the RTA and they told me the landlady went about getting money from Crystal all wrong. There is a formal dispute resolution process. I stated I felt she had preyed on my daughter, knowing she was in turmoil with the big move overseas. But until now I had not got involved but after reading this manipulative nasty letter, it will be dealt with. By Me! Fuck with me. Bah bam! Fuck with my daughter! That is going too far.

Especially as Crystal bought into her sociopathic lies and sent the woman loads of money for the sake of peace, when I know she did not owe her that much money, if any, as there was no Bond.

My god, last year was one sociopathic bastard after another! Two named Bev. Well, it stops here and now!

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My beautiful little Beauregard is back from the vet. He has had his second Parvo shot. 10 days til he is covered and requires a 3rd booster in exactly one month. Another $100. But then I need to scramble together the money to desex him asap.

I have vouchers from the National Desexing scheme but am yet to call their vet at Wooloongabba for the cost. I get 30 per cent off. But he also needs his hind dew claws removed.

The vet said he is a Jack Russell X. As I have suspected. So I got conned again by the people who sold him to me, as a Maltese-Shitsu X. Never mind. I love little Beauregard.

I also got him Microchipped. It was very painful for him. Poor little mite.

6 January 2015

Just had another prowler yelling out past my house. I went outside, asked him what he was looking for. He gave me a mouthful of cheek. I threatened him with the cops. He went up road still yelling shit. So I told him to Fuck off! Second time I have had weirdoes going past my house at night.

Cops will do nothing as usual. I'll be carrying my hockey stick at night!

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Holland Park Police. Utterly Useless. Don't answer the phone. As usual, I will have to protect myself and my space.

Debz Bell: why is this stuff happening?

Me: Good Question! I am ropable! It is some idiot in my neighbourhood. The cops are so ineffectual. It makes me sick!

I did report it to Police link but the creep would have been long gone by then so I told them, there is no point sending out a mobile patrol.

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Harvey has arrived Chez Moi. Jarrod is leaving for Holland tomorrow. So I have Harvey for a week! Woot!

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5.37 pm. Home again. Utterly exhausted. I have my referral for tomorrow though. The gp said my BP is good. I weigh 84.50 kilos. I guess if I took off my Birkenstocks and my clothes I would be 83 kilos.

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1.31pm hit the ground running. I just had a long put off blood test. Then went to get my glasses. MASS screwed me over again. Didn't use my good frames and didn't return them.

So they deliberately lost expensive frames that I was given and gave another pair of their shit ones that break in a week. I am ROPABLE! Sick of being treated like a 3rd Class citizen. They made me wait 3 months for the glasses too. Bastards!

Now having lunch, then off to the dr (not my usual one) to try to get a referral for my Sleep Specialist for my appt at PA hospital tomorrow.

I hope that won't be another hassle, as it is for my medical for my drivers license.

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2.45 am I had a lovely day today. Crystal came and had lunch with me. My corset arrived at long last and Crystal helped me adjust the lacing.

I got a call that my glasses are finally ready. I've been waiting since 20 October for them so have been livid but will pick them up this arvo.

Gail and Tayhlia visited yesterday arvo so Miss T could see the kitten.

Then, after that I spent time in the garden, weaving my sylvanberry and passionfruit vines. Then I spent a nice time on Paltalk.

6 January 2014

Just went outside to breathe the night air and Be in my garden, sipping a Jack Daniels and coke and watching my goldfish. I noticed a fox outside my fence-line and when he saw me, he ran to the entrance to the forest and watched me.

So I had to find the padlocks and lock up the chook tractor. It was good timing that I got the urge to soak up the night or I would not have seen him and would have lost Elvira to him.

He might be after the fish too. I have steel mesh on the pond to protect them from birds but a fox will be able to push it off. Hopefully he doesn't bother.

I am so sick with asthma but will try to go swimming tomorrow. Maybe at Wynnum beach. I need water. Sick of soaking in my own body fluids. Just gross! Storms forecast tomorrow so that will cool the air down.

I am happy to be alive on spite of my shitful health and loving my govt house and trying not to be bitter about my mother screwing me with the will and enriching her con artist husband and thieving daughters.

I live on sacred space loaned to me by the govt and all the hard work I put in the garden is coming to fruition. My lime tree is fully grown now and in fruit. The heliconias are also flowering and dahlias are coming on.

My family of origin were monstrous to me but the Universe blessed me with awesome loving friends and provision from strangers. Without whom, I would not have lived to see this season of joy and freedom and healing.

I must trust that there is limitless love, good times and limitless potential ahead for me. There was a time when I thought I would never make it this far. This is one more station on the long journey to understanding. I wonder what new wonders await me? :-)

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So grateful and happy about the storm and the fact it is still raining. Ye gods, we needed the water for the garden!!!

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I just harvested Lyn’s grapes. They are delicious. We live in Paradise!

I wish my grapevine would do its thing! Peter kept an article on Dragonfruit for me. They don't need much water so I will starve it from now on. 17 years and it only fruited for first time last year and they only live 20 years. :-(.

Big storm coming. My lungs will feel so much better when the air cools. Yayyy!!!!

Julie Goddard: awesome storm I must say lighting flashes coming down just over there, well to the east lol eeeeeeeeeeeeek big one and thunder

Me: I was covering Puppy's ears with each thunderclap. She's a cattledog but she appreciated me drowning out the sound and licked my hands each time. Lovely Girl!

Heather Abramson: And what a storm! But I am still so sweaty. it only cooled things for a short while.

Me: it's lovely here but I am still damp so that helps lol

Julie Goddard: you got a puppy now?

Me: @ Julie, no, Puppy is Lyn's dog, I was having a swim at her place before the storm hit.

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Just had a delicious swim. Thank you, Lyn and Peter!

6 January 2012

Another hot day in Paradise.

6 January 2011

Frenetic, babbling, highly charged, gorgeous, humorous, interesting, out there, equals mood disordered. No wonder I've been cleaning for 4 days in a very disorderly fashion so I feel like I'm not getting anywhere, as I've scattered my efforts all over the house.

Starting a new medication tonight, so hopefully I will be calm, centred, cool, and collected with clean floors LMAO

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It's weird as I'd been talking for two days to some friends about this person's father, funny little anecdotes and memories from our childhood, and then she emails me tonight. I must have been picking up vibes lol.

Update 6 Jan 2021: Had to let that childhood friendship just die as she rarely responds to my messages so proved abject disinterest even though she stated she still wanted to be in my life. Sorry but no..,I am done with dead end dead letter dead loss one sided relationships.

Copyright Tanya Désirée Arons