Where's Your Head At

This year has been a giant bowl of steaming dicks.

Dicks covered in sexually transmitted diseases.

But here I am. Shit together. Still breathing. Haven't murdered anyone/burnt any buildings down. Overall I am winning.

When life gets assy, I like to console myself with the knowledge that there will always be someone out there in the universe dealing with a shit tonne of other assy stuff that's way bigger than my own mountain of shit. I have stood & I have goddam dealt with this. Real talk.

So without further ado, here's what you missed when I was here but not really here.

1. I had a mammogram. I had decided, in the wake of recent life events that it was my due that I would more than likely get breast cancer & die. Because fuck you life. I basically got my tits mashed into skin pancakes because I found a lump & doctor bitches be all serious about boob lumps these days. It wasn't fun. Hell I was actually impressed at how well behaved my boobs were. Short of mounting the machine & riding it like a mule, they had me in all sorts of weird positions. Conclusion of this story: I don't have breast cancer. My tits are GOOD.

2. My marriage is still over. Nothing new to report here. I am in a good place & can only see really awesome shit ahead for me. INCLUDING a trip overseas next year. That's right, come 28th of May I am out of here for 2 months. England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Greece, Croatia, Italy, Spain, Portugal, France, Amsterdam, Germany & Singapore are where I shall be visiting. And I can't fucking wait.

3. I have reconnected with my friends. I'm not sure what happened but one can only guess that I buried myself so balls deep in my married life that I forgot I was fun. And that I bloody love my friends MAD FRICKING HARD. They have saved me from me.

4. I am in the process of moving into my own place. I put my big girl panties on & decided after a few months of much needed nurturing from my parents & baby steps in this whole new post marriage life shebang that this bitch be needin her own digs. I am now moving forward in leaps & wildstriding bounds.

5. I am feelin AMAZE y'all! Like hella good. I am losing weight. My hair is shiny & smells like coconuts. I am wearing colour & lipsticks that make my face explode all over other peoples faces. I have nice lady shoes on my actual feet, not sitting in my wardrobe looking pretty & never getting worn. I have a new found confidence. My magic juju is back. The old fun parts of myself are returning one day at a time.

6. Summer is beckoning me. And do I have a shit tonne of stuff lined up to do. YES I DO SIRS & MRS'S. I am doing the Colour Run in Wellington end of March. I won't be actually running but that's neither her nor there. I plan on wild striding. With the unicorn head mask on. Yep.

7. I am going to see a couple of my favourite bands play live over summer. Nothing rings my ding more.

8. I am playing music. In public. Again. Because I remembered that I actually love to do that.

9. I love everyone. Like love the ever loving shit out of every one's faces. For loving me when I needed to feel loved the most.

10. I still hate Christmas, but I am looking forward to being with just my family, away from the madness of city life, no Facey, phone or technology for 2 whole days. We are going down the sounds to just be with each other. (Truth be told the thought of not being able to connect with the real world makes me feel slightly clammy & sick but I will handle it somehow).

11. I got a new tattoo on my finger. With my best friend of 24 years. It's beautiful & meaningful & I love it as much as I love her.

Some of you may be wondering how Blake is doing? If not I am about to tell you anyway. Blake is ok. He's dealing with this too. And I don't forget that, but I can't be sad with him. I've become quite selfish. For the first time in my life I am allowing myself to be selfish. This show is about me now.

I still get sad that my marriage ended. I like to win at everything.

I still get sad that things didn't work out for us.

I also get sad sometimes as we cut away each tie from each other. He was my best friend & I loved him the most I have ever loved another human. I will always love him, just in a different way now.

Yet she stands & she deals. Because drowning in the fire is not an option. She is happy.

Concrete Birds.

When I was 12 years old, after a long day at school, I spent the night at home with my Dad & sister while my Mum worked.

While laying snuggled up on the couch with my Dad & sister, he disclosed to my sister & I that he no longer wanted to be married to our Mum & that he would probably be leaving our family unit soon.

I had sensed for over a year that all was not well with my parents marriage, but I was 12. I didn't have to worry myself about their business.

1 month later, I got home after school one day to find a note from my Dad saying that he loved us both, but he was leaving.

And just like that he was gone.

I phoned my Mum at work to tell her that I had found a letter from Dad & read it out to her over the phone.

Her sobbing, still to this day lays buried deeply in my head. That kind of human emotion, pure devastation & heartache, sticks to you.

I had to step up BIG TIME. My role in my family went from being an eldest daughter to that of the protector & caretaker for my sister, & my Mum.

The years that followed really sucked. My Mum moved my sister & I away from our hometown, to start a new life in Nelson.

I said goodbye to my childhood friends.
I said goodbye to my Dad.
I said goodbye to my entire 13 year old life.

My teenage years weren't easy either. My mum had spinal surgery & wasn't around a lot due to her long extended stays in hospital. My Dad remarried another woman 3 years after my parents marriage ended. He married a woman who had been a close family friend.

It took my Mum forever to get over that hurt. And I lived through her pain.

Onwards into my twenties, I hit it the ground running. Drinking, gambling, abusive relationships, you name it, I probably did it. It was a delayed rebellion. I spent my teens being a grown up & since I was no longer required to take care of others, I decided it was time to get myself into some shit. Learn some lessons per say.

My pain & hurt for my lost youth & broken home had manifested itself into some toxic evil concrete birds that clung to my shoulders. They dug their talons in hard.

While buried deep in my own grey bird cloud, one day mid September 2005, I met a boy who had his own flock of concrete birds on his shoulders too.

Together, as the bestest friends in all of the lands, we ninja kicked the shit out of each others concrete birds, & everything became a little less heavy.

Fast forward another 2.5 years, that boy & I decided we loved each other & we wanted to be together, forever til the end of time. I'd never felt love like that before. That free & easy kind of real love that we all wish to have in our lives.

From the very first moment that this boy confessed his undying love for me, & I in turn chose to walk that path with him, I knew that he was the one for me.

I have been really happy for the last 6 years. Truly ridiculously stupid happy. Finally free from my wild & haunted past.

I am no fool when it comes to marriage & love. I know that marriage takes A LOT of hard work. I know that it takes two people to make all aspects of marriage work.

When we decided to stand in front of all our family & friends & promise to love, honour & cherish each other for the rest of our lives, I meant every dam word I said. Through the good shit, & the bad shit, right to the end. I told him right from the get go, I am a fighter. I don't give up when shit gets tough, because I won't repeat history.

Divorce is too common these days & it makes me sick. My generation seems to think that marriage is something that you can just wipe off your shoes like a freshly laid dog shit.

Sometimes you really don't see stuff creeping up on you.

My marriage is over.

Like DONE done. As of just over a week ago.

After 2 months or so of heartache for both of us, it was a mutual decision to seperate. He has grown up & wants to explore the world. And I have lost myself in our marriage & I need to find myself again.

If someone had of told me back in April this year, that this was going to happened, I would have snort laughed all over their face. Because it's so ridiculously unexpected.

The people I have told have been all like WHAT THE FUCK? I know guys. I am having fleeting moments of what the actual fuck quite often. We were meant for each other? For a short while it seems. But as it turns out, we make better best friends & suck at being married people together.

My concrete birds are back. Just for a little while as I figure things out & piece my world back together.

Right now, I am an emotional zombie. I know that I will be ok, mainly because I am undoubtedly awesome, but in this moment, right this very minute, I am a little bit broken. I never wanted this for myself. I loved being married & I was proud to be married to him. Moral of story, shit does happen.

Thank you to my friends & especially my family for lifting me up the last few weeks.

Love your people. But most importantly, love the ever loving shit outta yourself. Because when those concrete birds come swooping to weigh you down with life's troubles, YOU are all you have.

Bx

P.S Look out world. I'm back! Starting with my dear chums in the Isle of Wight, Emily & Kev. See you next year in June. I'm buying my tickets tomorrow & this bitch is hitting the UK & Europe for a couple of months. Whoop!

Son of a Fuck (WARNING: As per normal, this post is filled with expletives)

Some ratfucksonofabitch just did a dirty great big shit in my office toilet & DID NOT use the air freshener. Right now, I am unintentionally inhaling his fecal particles as they float through the air into my office. My fists of rage are pumping on so dam hard on this keyboard that if I punched this out any harder, goddamn Thor would be cutting off my hands & using them for a new better weapon than his bullshit magic boomerang hammer.

Hi guys.

I'm still around.

I gotta be honest, the last 6 weeks has been a giant bowl of steaming dicks.

Sometimes, when the universe chooses to ram your face repeatedly into a giant bowl of steaming dicks, you have two choices. You can either hide under the blankets & not do life. OR smash that bowl in it's imaginary man fanny & get the bloody hell on with things.

Shall we go back to the beginning? If you said no thank you, too bad sugar tits. You are so stuck on this pony ride.

6 weeks ago, whilst away in my nations capital for a work trip & mid pie-holing the sugary goodness of a custard creme Donut King, I received a text from my Dad saying that his lovely wife, who had been fighting cancer for 2 years, had finally passed away.

SO frigging sad. Seriously I cried rivers.

I love my dad guys. He hasn't been the best Dad in the history of ever, but he's mine & I love him anyway.

What ruined me the most about him losing his wife, was the fact that she was his great love. My Dad lost his great love.

I really get that shit ya know, the whole great love thing. Blake drives me completely bonks sometimes but Jesus fucking titty Christ I love him.

We don't know how all this life business ends.  And sometimes I spend way too much time thinking about what my end will be like (seriously I am surprised I leave the house most days). All I can say about my end is that I will not go down without a ninja fight. Even if I do make it to 97, I am judo chopping death in the thyroid like a bitch. Double handed even! And when I do go, people will celebrate my life. I want them to dance. Dance like muthafuckers. Real talk.

My sister & I went over to Blenheim to spend time with my Dad the weekend after Mary died. He had her ashes sitting in a beautiful purple box with pink & blue flowers all over it. She chose that box for her own ashes. That does my head in in all kinds of ways.

That box was sitting on her lazy boy in the lounge. Dad talks to her like she's sitting there in her blue lazy boy right beside him, just like she used to. He told me that he knows people will think he's bat shit crazy for talking to a purple box, but he doesn't care. He knows she's listening and it makes him feel not so lonely.

It was at that very moment my heart fell out of my chest & was trampled by a stampede of sad, angry buffalo. For my Dad.

I ring my Dad every Saturday. I've realised in all of this that I have an important job to do now. And that is to make sure he knows that I love him, that I give a bag full of massive shits & that if he needs to cry (and he does. man it hurts), that I'm his girl.

Last weekend when I phoned him he asked me a good question. When does it starts getting easier? Because that's what everyone keeps telling him. That the chest ache pain, grief & loneliness does get easier. And you begin to feel like you're not drowning anymore. Apparently.

Anyway, I couldn't answer that question. And I really hate not being able to answer questions because as you all know, I like to win at everything.

Moving along my little shit nuggets..................

Blake & I have moved out of the motel after 2.5 years of being the live in manager type people.

It's a long story but I am pleased to report we were not fired because I set fire to the dog poo rubbish bins outside our bedroom window. Nor was I arrested for shooting those asshole Satan birds (seagulls) that taunted me loudly with the bullshit every dam morning from about 5am.The owners decided to retire, so they are called on an experienced, mature (apparently this is not us?) couple to fully take over the operations of the motel. Blake and I couldn't do this, because I already have a job.

So we have moved on.

At first I was a bit mad. But truth be told, I had been over the commitment of motel life for a while. I wanted a house. I craved space. I wanted my stuff that had been locked away in storage for 2 & a half years. This included my own bed. WHICH by the way, is like sleeping on a mattress made entirely of angel farts & unicorn fur.

My first & most important goal, upon discovering our time at the motel was over, was to find us a new crib. Cos I ain't rollin under no bridge in cardboard boxes for winter. Hell-to-the-no-effing-way homies.

Searching for a place to live seriously nearly ruined me. Shitty, cold & damp houses being rented for pretty much my entire weekly wage. And I get paid pretty good. We both got depressed. So depressed in fact that we could barely handle the sight of each other. Well thank the Lord fucker of fuckertown, in the 11th hour, we found place that was a good size for the two of us & wasn't going to rape our bank account.

I would like to introduce you to the view from my house at sunset.

Um Hi there panoramic sea views. I want to touch you in your special places..........

The only downside to this vom-into-your-hand-awesome view is the fact that our new digs is up a motherbitch of a steep mountain. As my main mode of transport is my red ninja bike, I have been walking my wheels up this hill every day after work.

Most people would attempt to ride the actual bike up the actual hill, but carrying 100kg of juicy juicy ass won't allow me to gain enough momentum to peddle like a bastard up the mountain. Plus I have watched actual fit lycra-clad insane people bike up this hill & let me tell you, peddling about 52,000 rpms like you are being chased by a pack of rabiefied hyenas, and only moving about half an inch every 45 seconds is not my idea of a good time fun party. No. Thank. You.

So I shall push my bike up whore mountain. Please stay tuned as my ass, my hamburger & my Teradactyl arm flaps waste away to sexiness. (FYI - My hamburger is my stomach. When wearing pants, my belly is cut in two by the waistband of my pants & resembles hamburger buns with my waistband as the meat. It's pretty epic).

The third shithouse thing that happened, the very same day we found out we had to find somewhere else to live, Blake was made redundant. I am so not lying right now.

As it turns out, he's pretty awesome at getting jobs & managed to find a brand spankers full time job about a week after he got his redundancy letter. He is working with plants, which goes nicely with his Naturopathy Degree that he still has to finish.

In summary, this has been a dirty old shit time y'all.

But you know what.......I get to go to sleep every night beside my husband. Whether it's in a cardboard box, the motel, a rental property, or our very own home, as long as my great love is beside me I am the luckiest hooker in all of the lands.

With him, I can pretty much get all of the shit done. Good or bad.

Except for peddle my bike up whore mountain.

Peace & love to all of you sexy bitches. I haven't left you. Just been balls deep in life.
Bex xoxox
 

Weekly post postponed.

Someone I love is dying. I'm too sad to write anything at the moment.

I will be back soon.

Bx

Whats Grindin: The Weekly Wrap Up

I know it's only Thursday, but I thought I'd get in early before my brain fully shits itself (you will be surprised how frequent this happens), & I forget that I promised to post once week.

I've got a dilemma.

Well it's not really my problem per say, but it's pissed me off so hard that I just can't seem to let it slide. I want some advice. Your advice is basically choosing from a multi choice list of scenarios below on how I deal with the bullshit I am about to tell you.

There is a lady, a lady that from this moment onwards will be named 'Dog shit lady'. Every day Dog Shit Lady walks her ugly ass dog down the marina where we live. Her dog is a giant horse poodle.

If candy floss & miniature horses mated,
this right here would be the by-product. Ick, get away.

Anyway, she parks her car, & goes for a leisurely walk with her horsedog companion. Then every time she returns (no lie, every dam time), she saunters all whore-like over to the wheelie bins by our bedroom window, & dumps her horror bag of dog shit in the trash.

Most of you are probably wondering what in the actual fuck is the problem here Bex? It would seem that Dog Shit Lady is dumping her dogs dumps in a very proper way & not leaving it for some clumsy bastard to unknowingly step in then trample through their home. Or leaving the dog shit to sun bake for eternity until it turns chalky white & crumbles into the earths core. Respect lady. NOT!

Im a good neighbour. In fact, I'm a straight up gangsta hoe of a neighbour. If theres a problem in my hood or I find someone abusing someone else's facilities, I am on it. Like a vigilanty neighbourhood server of thee moral justice.

My one issue with this woman is that she is putting her dog's shit in a rubbish bin that is owned & paid for by someone else. It would be like me walking into the restaurant next door to our motel, taking a massive mud in their toilet then leaving without so much as a tipping of the hat & a 'good day to you sir'.

I am obsessed with this. It's unhealthy how obsessed I am with this. I hide behind the safety of our net curtains watching her dispose of the dog poop while yelling expletives through the small opening in the window where the fresh air comes.

Fuck her. Seriously. (Just in case you were feeling a bit sorry for this lady because of my obvious distaste towards her, I need to take her down another peg on the shame scale by revealing that she also smokes in her car while her horsedog is sitting all ugly in the back seat. This is basically the same as smoking with a small child in her car. This is another life crime I have been known to verbally abuse people for).

I've come up with a list of things I could do. I feel the time has come where I need to put an end to this.

• Covering over the 'no broken glass or hot ashes' sign on the bin with a crafty handmade sign saying 'no filthy dog shits'.
• Go bin diving after she has deposited her shit bag each day, collect them for a month, then mysteriously leave them in a black rubbish bag on the hood of her car with a note saying 'fuck you'.
• Hide in the bin & when she opens the lid, sling shot her in the face with her own dogs feces. I would be wearing my infamous wild striding horse mask so she wouldn't know who I was. I would also be armed with a well timed judo chop to her esophegus just in case she tried to smack me.

The wild striding horse mask. For the ultimate disguise.

• Find out where she lives, break in & leave a steaming bag of poo in her rubbish bin with a note that says 'fuck you'.
• Hide the rubbish bin.
• Make Blake do all of the above. Because I'm not really fond of diddling with anything poo related. He also has gag issues with shit, but he's younger & more nimble than I am. Therefore by default he wins at having to do it.
• Do nothing.

Your wise council would be much appreciated.

Before I go, I just wanted to let you know that I just watched her dump a fresh one right this minute. I will take a secret squirrel evidential photo tomorrow & post it. But for now, I will just sit here & try not to breath in the smell of fresh dog crap that is seeping through the window & into my bedroom. Fuck my life.

Peace, love & gagging so hard right now.......

P.S What's Grindin' will be a weekly post (yep I'm gona bust my tits trying to keep up with this one) about whats been grinding my chops hard each week.
P.P.S There is a lot of 'fucks' & 'shits' in this post. And I'm not sorry. I really hate dog shit.
P.P.P.S I do not own or pay for these trash bins. They belong to the restaurant next door. But it's the principal. She needs to take her dog shit home & dump it in her own bin. Nuff said.

What you missed while I wasn't here.

Hi. How are you? It's been a while I know but hear me out.

In November last year, my whole house was swallowed into a giant sink hole. I was in the house at the time & I have spent the last 4 months trapped underground, surviving on nothing but 3 packets of girl guide biscuits & my husbands expensive & very thick Merck medical journal. Yes I ate the book. It was delicious.

Luckily I was rescued yesterday. Thank god because I had run out of cookies & book! I have lost about 40kgs due to my Girl Guide biscuit/paper diet & I have also partially torn the radial ligament in my left wrist due to spending 4 months trying to judo chop my way out of the bosom of the earth (aka hell).

Actually the above is a lie. I donkey kicked my way out. And now my legs are nothing but one mangled stump, kinda like a dolphin tail.

Seriously guys, I've been lady balls deep in ALL of the stuff. And I have not forgotten you.

I pretty much fire on all cylinders all of the time. I attack everything with vigour & enthusiasm times about eleventy billion. Last year in July, I was inspired to start my own little jewellery business. At first I was just kinda getting a feel for the market & as it turns out, my jewellery is so muthaeffing awesome that everyone wants it. This means that when I'm not working, I'm making pirate treasure for the masses.

If you have not checked out my jewellery Facey page, we can't be friends anymore. Just sayin. Go there now & like my shit please & thank you.  www.facebook.com/justagirljewels.

Now I also work full time. My job is hard & demanding. Yep, cry me a river you say.
My husband & I also look after a motel. He does pretty much everything but that's besides the point. I am there, therefore I will stake claim to having aome involvement.

Music exploded back into my life over christmas/new year. It was fun to play a few gigs but I've reigned that shit back in again for a while because quite frankly, I can not be fucked singing to drunk people in bars every weekend of my life. Rock n Roll isn't as glamorous as everyone has been led to believe.

So now that I have my half assed apology & list of below par excuses out of the way, I would like to summarise what y'all missed while I wasn't here.

I am still riding my red road rage machine aka 'The Red Bike'. As the early hours of the morn get darker (fuck you autumn you big fat bastard), I have been forced against my will to purchase a fluro yellow high viz vest & bike lights. Now I get the bike lights, a bitch has gotta see where she's going, but the yellow horror vest is not on man.

Blake explained to me that I need to wear the vest or he will be have to scrape my body off the rode after I have been hit by a log truck. And he faints when he sees blood & he doesn't want to embarass himself in front of the general public. Because I love him, I have agreed to let my backpack wear the yellow vest. I have the incredible hulk on the back of my helmet & a voluptuous back end, the people in the motorcars will see me.

Riding my bike to & from work each day is kinda like being in the Hunger Games. It's brutal & stressful. Luckily I'm so good at riding my bike that to date I have not been hit by any passing vehicles. Y'all know I would just fuck them up with my mighty fists anyway.

In Feb I went to the Wellington series of the International IRB Sevens. Basically two days of drinking yourself to death & sometimes watching rugby. You also HAVE to get dressed up. It's a pretty big deal.

I bought a shark costume. (It cost me $100). But as I began to don my awesome Shark costume for the first day of Seven's madness, I realised with that the Shark costume was a massive bastard fail. It had a floppy head. No matter what I did, I could not get the dam shark head to stay erect. (I will probably never use that sentence again in my life).



The fail Shark. I am still mad about this.
image source

Luckily my BFF had a spare costume. So I went as a referee. I felt like a fat zebra but I rocked it with a smile.

That's Blake in the Blue man costume. It's from an x-box game? Every one loved him & he felt famous.
To date I still have no idea what the hell he was meant to be.

Blake & I were Seven's virgins. We went along with my best hooker, her husband & a couple of friends. And for the most part we did enjoy ourselves.

However, after about 2 minutes into finding our seats, I remembered that I hate people. Especially really messy drunk people. Combined with really hot burny sun. Both days I had to be escorted from the premises by Blake before it finshed because I had urges to fist pound some faces.

All of the people. Ick.

Apart from my inner rage monster trying to bust outta me (due my high level of anxiety when stuck among sweaty crowds of assholes), we did have an awesome 4 days in my nations capital city. We shopped, ate, drank & had some time away from the demands of life in Nelson. We needed it.

Blake & I had our 3 year wedding anniversary on Feb 28th (Go us!). We went out to our favourite restaurant for dinner. I'm pretty sure Jesus himself invented Little India in Nelson. I highly recommend the Paneer Aloo Tiki. And the Butter Chicken is off the hook yo! I know my Indian food & this place delivers every dam time.



I gave Blake this fun card for Valentines Day.
It basically sums up everything I feel for him.

Before I leave you today, I need to let you all know that I do appreciate you coming here to read me. I can't promise you that I will post every day, because I just don't have the time. However I do promise that I won't leave it another 4 months before you hear from me again. Maybe once a week? I can do that.

Also I did bugger my wrist. It's currently bandaged up & I can't use it at all for 3 weeks. This post took me 2 weeks to type. I hope you treasure every tasy morsel.

Please tell me what you've been up to my little whores. Oh how I've missed you so.

Peace & love