That's The Way We Get By.

Saturday.

Listening to music, bumming round on the net, talking to Jared, wearing no socks (because it's finally warm enough that I can!), thinking, drinking White Russians, thinking about what I'll cook for dinner, trying to decide whether I can be bothered up-keeping the Brazilian, thinking about getting a carrot from the fridge...

And that was only the afternoon's many activities.

Going, Going, Gone.

It seems pretty amazing to me that I can withstand so much pain from relationships without somehow passing out. I think I have a pretty high pain threshold I guess.

This guy I liked, he isn't in the place where he wants a relationships right now. Where is this place? I'd like to find this illusive place where the guy I like does want to be in a relationship, google map search it and set up my fucking base camp there. This 'place' and these 'ex girlfriends', both of which I've never even seen, seem to have this incredible power to control into the future and fuck up my potential relationships with these possibly very nice guys. I'm really fucking sick of it. I'm sick of having to deal with other people's past mistakes which somehow get passed onto me to deal with. Fuck it sucks. I really liked him too. In the end though, no matter how honest I know they're being, I'll never be able to believe that if I was the 'right' girl for them then none of those problems would be issue enough to not give me a chance. Why don't I come across as the kind of girl you should take a risk on? :(

My Dad broke up with his girlfriend to ask my Mum out. The 'right' girls do exist.

Look at me, I have potential, now watch it run down the toilet.

The Love Affair Continues

I arrived back in Wellers yesterday and I've spent the entire day in the city just soaking it back up again. It's been such a beautiful day, I feel so good, light is shining out my arse. I swear, I looked.

Oh dear god, a woman just walked by me with lime green 'Crocs' on. If that didn't ruin my mood then nothing can.

So as per usual, when there isn't much bad stuff going on, I don't have much to say. I left Chch, I actually had the balls to do some goodbyes this time. Felt really good though. Harder to leave, but felt right. I've already met up with a few friends, staying with Mark and Jax in Paraparaumu, I'm so freaking lucky to have them.

Wow I'm boring when I'm happy. Damn.

Rollercoasters Make Me Vomit.

I've had these pretty severe mood fluctuations over the last two days. I didn't take my medication and on top of it all, I drank alcohol when I was off them. Not the cleverest one of the bunch really. I'm back on them now but it's pretty amazing at the severe nature those fluctuations take on when I'm amongst them. Afterwards I'm exhausted by the sudden rush of intense emotions I've just gone through and sometimes, when I'm lucky enough to be self-aware at the time, I realise why I had them and that although those thoughts expressed didn't just come from nowhere, it was my condition which took on the rapids of extreme overreaction to it all.

Now that I'm feeling calm and am stable again, I have these bridges to rebuild. The biggest consequence of my actions is loss of trust from someone close to me and that's only if the person you hurt will let you attempt to recover that strength you had together again. I always feel so fucking guilty having people in my life that I am close to. I think that's why two of my strongest friendships are never uprooted because the nature is that we're there when we need each other, normally not on a regular basis. I'm not saying that we don't just spend time together in happy moments though, I would be completely lost without them in my life. My other friends aren't so lucky. I think Sam (the Chch version) was one of the strongest people I know for being able to get through all our time together, because I was in a really mind bogglingly bad place most of that period.

My close friends will have been pushed away by me on more than one occasion due to my guilt at being so difficult. When I've had an episode, I feel like I don't deserve to have any of them in my life because I don't think I bring anything good to their lives. It will never be that I don't trust them, respect them or need to be validated as their friend, but until I don't bring my shit into every single tiny fucking particle of my life, I will need them to be constantly deciding to be my friend or bow out of the soap opera. In numerous moments I've thought it would be nice to be able to run away from myself. Then again, that would be giving up.

Only I know how different I am now than I was a few years ago as a person but mostly with my condition... in some ways that seems disappointing that no one will ever know how hard I've worked to get to be me right now, but then again I wouldn't be me if I didn't feel like I'll always have so far to go in terms of self-improvement. I want to deserve to be alive and happy.

I will.

Even Angels Fall.

Sometimes, just sometimes I am knocked from my pedal-stool way up there in the clouds and make a mistake. I think because of the fall being from so high, the mistake always ends up making a big imprint of my body in the dirt, on the ground when it lands. Ugh.

I drank a bit and words came out my mouth at an alarming speed. In other words I acted like a total bitch to a friend of mine. The hang-over has begun before it even had the chance to physically start. On the bright side, I'm still drunk enough to go upstairs with the laptop and gorge in terrible girly movies till I drift asleep into the deep slumber only booze can give you.

Look out Tuesday here I come.

I Think That Skirt Looks Nice On You

I'm leaving on a jet plane. Wait, is a jet plane just a normal commercial plane or like some type of plane... like those ones with the propeller thingies on the sides? Are those things called jets? I'm pretty sure jets are those big powerful looking bits on the sides, by the wings, the ones that I always imagine lots of unlucky birds get pulled into, only to be shredded within seconds and recycled into fish food or something. Anyway, my point is that I'm leaving. On a plane. Next Tuesday back home to Wellington. Not that I really have much of a home there anymore. I'm going to look for work while I'm over there, been told I should go for a temp job while I'm looking for a more permanent job, so that's what I'm doing. :) Horrah! Goodbye, bland, nasty frickin Chch.

Obviously to make this decision, I've been feeling really good in general. Finally feeling normal for long periods of time. *huge sigh of relief*. Oooooh I get to see my friends again! Fuck yea. :) I get to bathe in the city once more. All is well.

Clucky.

I've got most of my photo albums on here.
but here....:


My cousins had their second child yesterday, so I present Ryan McCallum to the scary and messed up Intraweb world. :)

It's my tops that are slutty, not me.

I'm killin time whilst my puter takes her sweet time to burn a DVD of some misc shows I have yet to see (I swear she has caught me cheating on her with Mum's laptop and is now punishing me with slowness).

Today I slept, got my new pills (which have a very attractive shiny, purple box which almost blinded me to the fact that my Dr has prescribed me twice the dosage I was previously taking, with larger purple pills now), ate half an avocado (because I'm storing up on foods I can't afford when I'm not living with my parents :P), picked up Sam's cam so I can do my audition for the TV presenter job I want, drank some tea, listened to music and pretended (I'm not a very good pretender though) that I was actually interested in the trailer my parents bought today.

May tomorrow be just as exhilerating as today.

Job? Um... job?!

As of late I've become a true intraweb whore. I'm currently listed on Facebook. YouTube, Names Database, OldFriends, Blogger, Bebo, MySpace and Sticam, not to mention that I Vlog, Blog and have my website. I'm not even sure how I've managed to accrue so many memberships, oh wait yes I do. Welcome to the land of unemployment, where drinking milk from the carton and watching the US Open with Dad are necessary ploys to get me through the day. Why do the unemployed sleep in so long? So the days are shorter and they can stay up later with their employed friends when they get home from work. The days of the week are luxuries I feel are best swapped for White Russians after four.

After a few weeks of this, I want out. Feel free to employ my mentally unstable arse and I. She does charge by the hour though.

Me Geni.

I feel hopeless.