Who Goes House Hunting During a Flood?

Us, that's who! And, to clarify, it wasn't actually flooding when we went out yesterday, it was more like really annoying constant rain that turned into some major flooding today. The good news is that we didn't find a house we loved, BUT we did find an area that we love so at least that's narrowed it down somewhat. The downside however (and granted, it's only a very small downside) is that the area is about 40mins away from where I'm currently living - but at least it's not half a planet away!!

I slept horribly last night. My back was aching in the worst possible way, but apparently that's because my body resembled that of a pretzel, which D found highly amusing but didn't think to wake me up so I could change positions. But it's all good anyway - we both kept waking up every hour or so with the sheets of rain barraging against our bedroom window, and of course, the roof. We got 5" of rain last night. And my Nanna informs me that my Aunt and Uncle, who live up in Bundaberg, are also getting some impressive rain and flooding. Good times!

I also learned that my sister collapsed this morning, about half an hour before I got out of bed. As I neared the top of the stairs, the ambulance was already outside, and Mum and Steve were searching for umbrellas to take her downstairs and into the ambulance - and then they were all off to the hospital. It looks like she'll be having another transfusion.

When it rains, it pours. And floods.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

Today is an interesting day for me - a push/pull of emotion in a way. Today is the exes birthday and marks 5 months since I left him; but also marks 5 gloriously happy months I've spent with D.

I got to thinking about my past, and everyone in it, and while I regret some of the friendships I've let go, I've come to ask myself some questions. I know I did what I did for the right reasons. I've read and reread logged conversations I've had with people over my actions, my decisions and am still very happy with the way I chose to handle them.

The ex has a habit of torching things from previous relationships: photos, clothes, papers, etc. Anything that reminds him of a former relationship/love. Anything painful. He claims it's theraputic and cleansing, though I have my own opinion about that. But to each their own. So, while I know of this habit, and even though he promised me he would never burn anything of mine, I know this to be a lie. I know he has, because that's the type of person he is. Anything that was mine, is now ash. It shouldn't bother me, but it does. It hurts to know the time we spent together meant nothing to him. That shouldn't bother me either, and yet it does. Why is this? Why does it hurt to know that any memories we had built together, he could just destroy without thought? What does that say about him?

I have many precious memories of him and I together that I look back on fondly. I have pictures, though not many, that I would never get rid of, or burn. I have gifts, letters, cards, jewellery. If I was to do what he has done, and burn everything he has ever given me, burn anything his Mother or his family has ever given me, what would that then say about me? And also, has anyone else done this? Is it as theraputic as I've been told it is?

Dreaming: Assassin!

So I dreamt last night I was an assassin (my lifelong aspiration). It was awesome, except that I didn't actually get to kill anyone, and thus failed my mission. What was impressive was how I planned on doing it.

Evidently I was in a shopping mall in the beginning, and then a department store. I was surrounded by a bunch of bimbos, and these were the ladies I had to kill. I had planned to use a flame-throwing device and just burn them into the ground, and this device would be a simple bottle of perfume and a match. Well, apparently the bimbos weren't that stupid, because I couldn't kill them. Everytime I went to strike the match to get the flame going (as I was running, you see) the match died or fizzled out and I couldn't get the damn thing to work.

So I spent the rest of the dream running and hiding, and climbing down into cellars, and chasing boys asking them, "Do you have a match?" And then right at the end of the dream, I was walking up a hill, on a bike path, with 2 boys - one riding his bike, the other pushing his bike - and one of them grinned at me and said, "Why push your bike when you can ride it?"

Journey: Don't Stop Believin'

Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere
Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit
He took the midnight train goin' anywhere

A singer in a smokey room
A smell of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Street light people, living just to find emotion
Hiding, somewhere in the night

Working hard to get my fill,
Everybody wants a thrill
Payin' anything to roll the dice,
Just one more time
Some will win, some will lose
Some were born to sing the blues
Oh, the movie never ends
It goes on and on and on and on

Don't stop believin'
Hold on to the feelin'
Street light people

via Lyrics on Demand

Mr. & Mrs. Smith

I watched that movie last night. I can't tell you how boring it was, or how disappointed I was in it, or that I fell asleep for the last 15 minutes of the movie. I'd had such hopes for it, too. I really like Angelina Jolie, but this was just . . . sad.

The high points during the whole flick was when, as D and I snuggled together on the floor, he kept asking, "Can we get an oven like that one, baby?" As in, an oven that reshapes itself and throws up a VERY impressive knife and gun storage unit. My reply, was of course, "Yes." I mean, who wouldn't want something like that in their kitchen? And then he asked me if we could get a machine gun like one of the many Brad Pitt wielded in the movie. Again I replied, "Yes!" Because again, who wouldn't want one of those machine guns?

On a brighter note, I have a doctor's appointment on July 8th. Even though my ladies are getting ALOT better and not nearly as itchy, it's probably not a bad thing to get them poked and prodded, just in case.

Itch Update

Don't worry my pretties, it's nothing to fret over. I will clarify that, while I do draw blood, it's not gushing and more like little specs here and there. The fluid is more clear than anything, and I did buy an antiseptic gel yesterday that I've been using. It contains a topical anaesthesia that stops the itching and makes the ladies feel sort of numb but I did check with the pharmacist and he assured me that it was perfectly okay to use.

I am going to head to the doctor in a couple of weeks, however, but I know it's nothing bad. It's not the detergent, though I have stopped using the body wash I was using for the last few weeks, thinking that might have been it.

I will let you know what I find out when I get to the doctor, but I'm not too concerned. I really don't think it's anything terrible.

Lazy Sundays

You know it's cold when Mum puts up curtains in every doorway imaginable to keep the warmth from the heater, in one room. It's almost as if the cold wind, perma-hard nipples and seeing your breath puff out when you're in the kitchen, isn't enough. Once the curtains are up, it's officially cold, and she finally admits that heat is a good thing. So, as you can well imagine, we now have the heater going. And, I'm sure, as you can also well imagine, I totally miss central heating.

In other news, I'm still suffering itchies on my girls. And my eyelids, though the eyelid itchies seem to be disappearing in favour of itchie cheekbones. I'm beginning to feel like I'm losing the war, here. The cocoa butter has been working, however it was SO FREAKING COLD last night, that I woke myself up a couple of times scratching uncontrollably. And then once when I woke up it was to put more cocoa butter on them. It's painful to keep itching - I can see I'm drawing blood, but dammit, the relief . . . the relief!

I've never actually woken myself up before because of itching, so I was still half asleep when I attempted to put the butter on my skin. Because of this, a great glob of it ended up on my nightshirt, which I then had to try and get off the shirt and back onto the flesh, without waking up D in the process.

But it was 4am, and not only was I itching myself into a fit, I also had to go pee. I wasn't as annoyed this time around as I was before - I think I'm getting used to it now - and it turns out he was already awake, having coughed himself out of sleep, and launching himself into a long and somewhat painful sounding, coughing fit. His sinuses are playing up, and it seems that he may have gotten the dreaded Cold, so Mum and I went down to the shops this afternoon to buy some essentials: cold medicine and soup. He's back in bed now, sleeping, after having taken one of the giant horsepills.

And that's about it. It's cold outside and warm inside, and I'm off to watch Spanglish.