Ok, I apologise, it's been too long. I don't even really have an excuse, unless laziness counts. If it does, then BACK OFF! heh
What's happened in the comedy of errors that is my life since my last post? I'll divulge chronologically...
I did not die from my grand final injuries (not even my critically injured ego) and recovered almost fully. I still can't look at the ocean or any kind of water craft without shuddering, but I'm sure that will pass.
So a couple of weeks after the final I had my birthday. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend of tattooing, partying and robot shopping, but they do say that the best laid plans always fail, and they pretty much did. The Thursday before the birthday weekend, my labrador Sunny got sick. I had to take her to the vet twice in that one night. the second time the vet gave her a shot of methodone and she couldn't stand up, bloody druggie. I took her to the vet first thing Friday morning so they could take blood samples. They kept her on a drip all day and released her to me that night. We all thought she was better, but then she stayed awake all Friday night, squirming around in pain (poor thing) and moaning. I took her back Saturday morning, they took an x-ray and decided they needed to operate straight away. They found nothing. I needed to transfer her to the Animal hospital on Anzac Highway, all doped up and stitchy. By this time, I'd given up on my tattoo appointment and partying that night, but thanks to the support of my sister Snowy (who was visiting and staying with me) and Mercedes, I ended up still dashing to Victor Harbour and fitting in the outline at least. Behold, the awesomeness that is my steampunk tattoo by Jai at Victor Tattoo. They have amazing, beautiful studios there and Jai let me watch the Dudesons the whole time.
From there we rushed to Boho, where my birthday dinner was scheduled to happen. We got there almost two hours late but they were cool about it. After we'd been upstairs eating and chilling out for about an hour, Vader and Lady came up and told me that there were people downstairs. I told her to tell them to come up, presuming she meant three or four people. She told me to go down instead, and to my surprise and elation, there were so many of my friends there! So, we got to partying. I never had to buy myself a single drink, which both spoke volumes about the generosity of my friends and also how well they know me and what I want best: alcohol. Below is some of the evidence of our partying:
Things started to get a little messy:
Then there was the series of 'shocked and affronted' pics:
Then there was some love:
But then there was some humping:
Then there was some sneaky ass tapping:
Sunday morning I had to get up and go get Sunny. She seemed heaps better but they still couldn't tell me what was causing her stomach issues. I took her home with all her meds and her puckered tummy and hoped for the best. Sunday Snowy, Michi, Mercedes and Kat took me to the robot shop and I bought four new babies! Here they are:
Later that week I woke up to Sunny sick again. I was spewing. I just wanted to find out what was going on. She walked into the kitchen and hurled up a huge grass ball. It stunk like human vomit and dog shit and I was retching as I picked it up. I took her straight to the vet again, where we had to wait about half an hour for the vet to arrive. She walked in the door, talked to us for about a minute and then Sunny threw up again, another MASSIVE grass wad. The vet was surprised, she said that was the biggest grass ball she'd ever seen. When I told her that it was the second one she'd produced that day, she deduced that perhaps that was the reason for her stomach troubles. That she thinks she's a cow and eats too much grass. That she is a giant dumbass who eats shit and grass and costs me two grand when she can't shit it out. Buuuuut, I wouldn't have done it any other way, she's my baby.
Something else interesting that happened between Sunny and now is that I discovered a fascination with RealDolls. If you don't know what they are, look here (be aware: IT IS UNSAVOURY). They're basically life sized dolls (presumably) meant primarily for sexual gratification if you can't get a real person to let you bone them. I was perusing the website and all the accoutrements that are available to purchasers of a RealDoll (new or second hand) when I came across a RealDoll movie called Regarding Jenny. Naturally, in a fit of giggles I made Kat look it up and we laughed our asses off at this 'film' featuring an inanimate object as its protagonist. In that film, there is a scene where Jenny's boyfriend (a slightly jealous control freak and terrible actor to boot) is watching Lars and the real Girl, which I have not seen. So, we rented it out. It's a pretty good movie. it's about a guy who has a delusion and he thinks his RealDoll is an actual person, and in the interest of helping him get through it his whole town also pretends she is real. The thing about this whole story is jut how much of a pansy I have become. I freely admit that I cry a lot at movies/tv/commercials/news/serious thoughts/kittens/old people/nice deeds etc but I hit a new low when I cried when the RealDoll (Bianca) died in the end. I was busily losing myself in the moment, watching the funeral and touching camaraderie when I suddenly realised that I was weeping like a sissy for not only a MADE UP CHARACTER IN A FICTITIOUS TALE, but a 'character' that NEVER EVEN DEPICTED AN ACTUAL REAL PERSON. I started to laugh, actually laugh and put a note in my iphone to blog about what a moron I am.
Speaking of morons, a few nights ago, I bumped myself up to King Tard status at the servo round the corner from Cede's house. We had bought coffee each and were just getting into our car when the ladies in the car next to us asked Cede if she could help them find their way to Cross Road in Glen Osmond. Since I'm always keen to prove that tattooed, pierced freaky hair chicks aren't murderers, I almost leapt the bonnet to whip out my google maps and show her. We worked through the directions, and Cede took notes of all the turns and stuff for her as I read it out. The lady said she was going to a rosary. Since I had no idea what that was, I paid no attention: smart, me. So, we sorted her out and were parting ways when I said 'Enjoy your evening', looking both women in the eyes in turn, to show that I was sincere, friendly and just generally a good egg. As I was getting back into my car, I said to Cede
'That came across as quite forceful, I don't know why I said that so serious and loud...' to which she replied
'Yeah, especially since they were going to a funeral.'
'Yeah, what do you think a Rosary is?'
'I don't know! I thought it was just some religious thing where they sit around and count beads!'
She laughed at me for a while and I stewed in my doucheness.
Well, that's about it for now - I have some bouts coming up soon, so I'll report on them and any other instances of my most massive idiotic nature.
ENJOY YOUR EVENING.