Colourful, Swirly Skulls

Today in pump class there was a doof song on that was just so, so ... doofy. The beat, the bass, the frickin' build-up. I was back in the nineties again, off my head in nightclubs. I swear this song was so full on, I kept looking around to the other people in the class, trying to catch their eye, to say, omg can you believe it?! But then, I realised they probably weren't having ecstasy/acid flashbacks. They were just working their biceps, like normal people.

Man I needed a chuppa chup to get through that song. A smoke machine, five snorts of amyl, and two packs of Styvos.

It was like being in one of those "hip" clothes shops, and the music is turned up so loud and all the pretty young things are bouncing around and I am just a haggard old lady with DYED HAIR.

Finally the song ended, as all things eventually do. The song after that was Moby's "Extreme Ways", which TOTALLY blew my mind because I often tell Dave this song is my rock bottom song, the song right before recovery came streaming into my life: "I had to close down everything/I had to close down my mind. Too many things caught me/Too much could make me blind. I've seen so much in so many places/So many heartaches, so many faces/So many dirty things ... you couldn't even believe."

By the end of pump class I had felt every emotion possible. Then I took my baby grocery shopping, now I am at home doing laundry and cleaning up. I still can't believe I live this life, these days. I hope I can always maintain it.

My sisters came up on the weekend. To laugh, eat, shoot the shit, and most importantly, watch History of the World Part I. We know every single piece of dialogue in this film ... Dave watched part of it with us, but went to bed early and left us to it. It was great to have them here as "guests" and not the "chemo helpers" they were, last year.



We all went to the orchards and bought big boxes of fresh apples, laughed at the waitress who was so passive-aggressive it was ridiculous, and felt like three peas in a pod. My sisters and I weren't close as kids, which makes our amazing bonds so much more special now. Dave took the pic above, at the growers market yesterday. Leigh said to me, "Mate, I love how you are always in the middle!" We laughed, remembering the many car trips where I always had to sit in the middle. And HATED it. Sometimes, when we are introduced to new people, they think I am the eldest. "No," I always say breezily. "I am the younger but taller one." And I try to pat my sisters heads, as condescendingly as I can.

Last night in bed I woke up around 2am, and I just wanted to hug and hug Dave so much, whisper to him to never, ever get sick again. Don't ever die before me. Don't leave me. I love you. But I didn't, because he would think I was waking him up for some sexual relations, so I just sent the thoughts along to him via osmosis. I'm sure he heard them somewhere.

I'm so busy and overwhelmed and behind in emails and reading. If I had it my way, I would get a catheter inserted, buy 25 pizzas (no pineapple) and sit on my couch reading blogs for a week straight. But life keeps getting in the way ... I get overwhelmed easily, which is annoying when you are married to the most capable guy on the planet.

I want to marry my new blog header ... make sweet, sweet love to it and have teeny skull babies. It's by the amazingly talented Meg from Knuckleheaders. My brief was "colourful, swirly, skulls." I spent ages thinking up a cool tagline, and couldn't think of anything. How are you supposed to sum up your whole blog in one sentence? I finally decided on "Life is hard. Eat more chocolate." Until, the very moment I was sending the email, Meredith's voiceover came on when Greys Anatomy started, and she was talking about how we can't outrun our shadows. Bingo.

I have tried to outrun my shadow for many many years, and failed. My shadow got me into a LOT of trouble. It's still here, with me, and always will be. I'm trying to make friends with it, and laugh as it remembers all the hazy drug days in the middle of a pump class.

There are lots of skeletons, with lots of skulls, in my closet. I may as well dress them up in colourful, swirly things, and write about them.