"ok, well, im not good. im sick of being alone, and im sick of loving someone who doesnt love me back. i have no news, because everything that seems like it could turn out well, goes to shit. i was gonna go to europe in january with my band, but now we cant afford it, i met a guy who seemed really nice, and he found out i had a mental illness and doesnt want to know me. im cold, and im sad and im lonely and i feel like thats how i'l be for the rest of my life

does that make you feel better?"

probably isnt the nicest email you'd want to get, but 'im fine' apparently wasnt cutting it. i cant lie to him. i tried. im fine, i said. dont worry about me. no, whats wrong? i want more than one line. well then, thats what you get.

my babies come home tomorrow, i'll get hugs then

the reason why

carly says:
how impressive do i sound on paper
MedusA says:
I dunno, I've never heard you on paper
carly says:
well, im talking to this guy, and hes asking about me, so im saying i work in a library, im rehearsing a play at the moment (just plays? actually i was an extra in a film on tuesday) and i play in a band. i've travelled throughout europe and am thinking of going back there to play gigs
MedusA says:
yeah, you sound good
carly says:
so why do only dickheads like me?
MedusA says:
because
carly says:
oh yes
because
i forgot about that reason

you cant
you cant
no matter how hard you try

it started with a fight

an argument, really, which lead to a fight. one called the other a weener. the other turned into a skinny ball of muscle and started beating the bigger one around the kitchen. both started yelling.

i guess it really started before that, when i asked them both to get ready for bed. 'toilet and teeth'. apparently 'toilet and teeth' means 'stand in the kitchen and stare at the wall.

or maybe it started before then, when i asked them to put their dishes on the sink, and they both ignored me and continue with their loud, continuous argument over which jimmy neutron character they were, and which one was better.

in any case, it ended with me grabbing my phone

'right, thats it, no more grandmas tomorrow'
'just him? or both of us?'
'both of you'
'why?'
'because you are both incapable of behaving, and therefore shouldnt be allowed nice treats'
'hear this?'
'what?'
'.......'
'what??'
'thats me not talking to you'

*on the phone* (without really dialling) 'hi, its carly, how are you?.....yeah, good thanks, um, we wont be coming up tomorrow......no, the boys have been too naughty.....yeah....yeah, i know......i would have loved to, but they just wont listen to me......ok, yep...ok, no worries, have a nice weekend, bye.....bye'

*in bed 10 minutes later*

'did you really ring grandma?'
'what do you mean, did i really ring her?'
'did you ring her, or did you just pretend?'
'why would i pretend?'
'if i was an adult, that would be the sort of thing i'd do'
'oh? well then, i'll have to keep that in mind. ninite'

getting far too clever, that kid

boys = stupid

e: i bet there are swear words i havent heard
x: e, there are swear words even *i* dont know

had my children been with me this morning, i believe they would have heard all the swear words they'd ever need to hear in their lives.

just after 9 is when i woke up. i dont know how long it had been going before that, but the screaming was terrifying. at first i couldnt understand a word apart from fuck. it was just noise and fuck and 'what am i supposed to do?'. my first thought was that some kid wouldnt get out of the car and go to school, so its mum was yelling at it. oh yeah, thats the neighbourhood i live in. and considering the school, i think that assumption before i'd even opened my eyes was pretty well fair enough.

but it got worse. and worse. and worse.

when i let myself look out the window, she was huddled on her front porch crying, holding a baby. he was stalking up and down the driveway swinging a baseball bat.

oh. its more than a kid not wanting to go to school.

suddenly i cant remember the other phone number for the police. then i start to wonder, maybe this *is* an emergency. he has a baseball bat, ffs, maybe 000 is called for? but i dont have to think about that anymore, because a police car pulls up. the girl runs across the lawn to the police, he follows after her, holding the bat. another car pulls up, and another. 'drop the baseball bat! drop the fucking bat!' more screaming and crying. the girl is sitting in the gutter, holding the baby, while a police woman talks to her. a paddy wagon pulls up. more screaming. from her 'just do what they say. i dont want you to get hurt'

one car drives off, two officers inside. i cant see the wagon, the other police, or the man.

the policewoman, the girl and the baby go inside, followed by another officer. two officers stroll back to their car, chatting away like its a normal morning. maybe it is

why do people come to me for relationship advice?

its not like im all that great at them

thankyou big brother

for almost an entire hour, i have been attempting to calm down the kids. big brother finishing this year is apparently the worst thing that has happened to them in their entire lives.

crying crying crying crying

e has written a letter to big brother and travis

i loved my first car. a mist green, morris 1300 nomad. awesome. we sold it years ago, and then i saw it at the local car yard a while ago. a really wanted to buy it. but i didnt.

x and i quite often talk about it, but he has different memories. he swears black and blue that i had a v dub, not a morris.

so today when we were driving to miffys and i saw my old car, i was stoked.

me: look xans! thats my old car! like, *my* old car
x: (no response, not even looking)
me: not just a car that looks the same as mine, but my exact car. the one i owned. see? its not a bug, look.
x: yeah, well
me: yeah well nothing, thats my car. exact car. exact exact car, as in the one i owned and drove around.
x: yeah well! theres a guy in the goodies who looks exactly exactly exactly like dad, but its not him, is it!

i've collected a lot of post secret postcards over the years



sometimes they just seem to fit

so her name is sunday rose, who cares. i think its pretty. it could be fork or puppy or balloon, but its not. its sunday, and i think it's lovely.

in the comments on the ninemsn site about the "bizarre choice of name", somebody said (paraphrasing) 'sunday is fine, and rose is fine, but together they sound like sunday roast'. which by itself is a dumb comment, but when you think back to 80s commercials about roast lamb 'guess who's coming to dinner' 'scram', its funny, cos wasnt tom cruise coming over?

*edit* i got my ads mixed up. this is the one i was thinking of. naomi watts. heh

future artiste

one is the original book, the other is the copy e is making. can you tell the difference?



----------------
Now playing: SoKo - I'll Kill Her
via FoxyTunes

YES!

conversation

e: did someone teach you how to be a mum?
me: no. well, i guess i learned stuff from people, but you just sorta do it and work it out
e: oh
me: why? do you think i do a good job?
e: yeah. cos, you smile, and you have a good nose, and you know the stuff that we like. fruit, for example

sweetest thing i have heard in just about forever

BOYS, TAKE NOTE!

"im so at a loss that im looking up courting on wikipedia"