Hey Mama, Just My Luck

It's time for a workshop prompt - "a time I got lucky" and just to prove Mama Kat wrong, I'm NOT going to recount a story about my skanky sexy times... for now. Sorry.

The summer between University and my post-graduate studies, I landed a job bartending at the 4-star restaurant just around the corner from my house – great score! On my first night, I was out having a smoke on my break and one of thee hottest guys I have ever met came to join me, and he was friendly.

Right then, I really, really, really liked my new job.

He was like a version of Ray Liotta with his piercing blue eyes, but with softer features, better skin and a whole lot of sex appeal permeating out of his every pore. Even MY MOTHER had a hard time sucking back her drool when she came into the restaurant one day and met him.

Yes... he was THAT hot.

In my usual fashion, Carter and I hit it off right away and we even started spending time together outside of work. I dropped shameless hints about my true feelings and he never responded. I kept hanging out with him for a while but it was difficult to not come off as ‘stalkerish’; he was like a drug and I constantly wanted a fix. Just being in his presence made me wet my panties.

Surprisingly, this story isn’t actually about him, but I had to set the scene. Ahem.

We had been working together for about 3 months at this point, and there was a summer-end staff party at one of the employee’s farm. It wasn’t a huge gathering – maybe 20 people at the most – and the handful of us "herbal enthusiasts" easily found each other as we gravitated to this fantastically quaint twin hammock set that were hung between 3 trees. I had brought my lucky Zippo with me (as it had been everywhere else with me for the better part of a decade), and rested nicely in my back pocket.

Carter and I cozily shared one of the hammocks like 2 stoned peas in a pod. Guuuusssshh. Others came and went, but the two of us stayed there for a long while, together. In my fantasy universe, it was actually a pretty romantic setting and all it needed to be complete was for him to lean in and plant a big juicy one on me – but of course that didn’t happen.

When I got home I realized that my Zippo was gone. SHIT! I really loved it. It had a magic mushroom on one side and my name was even engraved on the back. Yes, I was THAT pretentious smoker. Shut it.

It must have fallen out of my back pocket when we were on the hammock. I quickly called the host of the party the next day and I was slightly taken aback as he was able to complete my sentences.
“Did you happen to find a Zippo by th...”
“By the hammocks? YES! And I’m afraid that I ran over it with my ride along lawnmower and gave me quite the fright!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! By any chance did it happen to survive the lawn...”
“The lawnmower? Are you kidding? It’s in about 4 mangled pieces.”
“And just to make sure that it’s mine, can you make out what was on it?”
“Yes, it looks like it used to be a mushroom of some sort. Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right. Thanks anyway. You can just throw it out if you haven’t already.”

I was dejected; it was one of the few objects of mine that I truly loved and felt a genuinely strong owner-to-object bond with it. I didn’t want to buy a new one; my Zippo days were now done. I needed to quit smoking anyway. Pssfft.

About 6 months had past and I was going through my ‘junk drawer’. I rarely went through it – it was like all the crap that I didn’t use but still didn’t want to throw out just yet. I can’t even remember what I was doing in there to begin with, but while I was sifting through it I found an old blue bandanna – I hadn’t worn it in a few years and it was tucked away in the back. Underneath the bandanna WAS MY ZIPPO – completely intact and as shiny as the day I bought it. I have absolutely no reasonable explanation as to what happened. It really freaked me out but I still believe to this day that it truly was my lucky Zippo.

Duh. Duh. Da–Duhhhhhhh....

I never used it again.

Confessions of a Dumbaholic

I know at one point or another, we've all done things and afterwards (perhaps years later) we have thought to ourselves,
"Wow. That was really fucking stupid!"

And it's true; it was stupid. Really, really rieeeee-diculously idiotic.

And I cannot even blame adolescence on all the dumb things that I've done because age doesn't seem to be a consistent variable in these misdeeds. What the hell was wrong with me? The scariest part is that I got good grades in school, have a relatively high IQ, but that doesn't seem to matter in the slightest.

I present to you the Top 5 reasons why I am amazed I'm still alive and well - likely because if you reached high enough, you'd probably find a horseshoe up my ass. (Although, please use gloves! I have issues with that whole area. Yuck.)

1. Riding in the trunk/boot of a car with a friend because there wasn't enough room for everyone in the car. I know someone who did that and then the car was in an accident and made her a paraplegic. And yet, I still did it.

2. Buying street drugs off a pimp and his strung-out hoe in downtown Manhattan, outside of a nightclub. I know someone who got bad drugs from a stranger and it totally fried his brain, permanently. And yet, I still did it.

3. I wanted to have sex with a guy so badly that we did it without any protection. I know someone who contracted herpes the same night that she lost her virginity... with no protection. And yet, I still did it.

4. I get really drowsy behind the wheel; I am seemingly powerless against the urge to sleep. I have fallen asleep behind the wheel at least 3 times (that I can recall). I know of many people that have been in car accidents, some fatal. And yet, I still do it.

5. Smuggling illegal narcotics across the Canada/USA border. Do I really need an example for this one? Oh, and I should probably mention that both my father and grandfather were Customs Officers! And yet, I still did it.

What are some of the dumbest things YOU have ever done?

It's Q&A Time in the Estro'hood

The Estro'hood

What's probably the most offensive 4-letter word? It's not fuck, shit or cunt - it's 'meme'. Nevertheless, Latte Junkie tagged me, and I must admit, I really enjoyed this one. So, thank you for the tag - I know you were hesitant. HA! What is it about me? Am I intimidating? Must be the whole 'breathing fire' thing - I can see how that would put some people aback. Anyhow, here are my answers:

Which living person do you most admire, and why? My mother. Life continuously dishes her out shit, pile after pile, yet she always handles it with grace and strength. She is amazing.

When were you happiest? Fishing with my grandfather. (He fished. I caught frogs. It was bliss.)

What was your most embarrassing moment? There are too many; hence, my blog - have a look around.

What’s the most expensive frivolous thing you’ve bought? A handmade silver & chunky amber necklace for £300 or the limited edition Auguste Rodin sculpture for $700.

What is your most treasured possession? 1. My external hard drive. That beast has got my entire life in it - professional and personal. If there's ever a fire, I'm going in after it. They won't be able to hold me back. 2. My Dogma poster, signed by Kevin Smith.

Where would you like to live? Melbourne, Australia. Duh.

What’s your favorite smell? Fresh coffee & baking cinnamon rolls

Lauren Collins {TVloop}

Who would play you in the film of your life? If it's for the story of my exchange, it would have to be Lauren Collins from Degrassi. First time I saw her, I wanted her for the part. Lauren! You and I need to have a chat, seriously! Have your people call my people.
If it's for a more general role - as an adult, probably Kate Winslet.

What is your favorite book? Oyster by Janette Turner Hospital or the Harry Potter series.

What is your most unappealing habit? Playing with my hair.

What would be your fancy dress costume of choice? A medieval-style dress with a corset and long bell sleeves. Marion or Guinevere.

What is your earliest memory? Running through the sprinkler on my grandparent's front lawn; I was likely 3 or 4.

What is your guiltiest pleasure? Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Blizzard.

What do you owe your parents? A lot of fucking money.

To whom would you most like to say sorry, and why? Jim. For not being brave enough, I'm sorry.

What or who is the greatest love of your life? My clitoris.

What does love feel like? Like the most comfortable blanket you've ever had. Even if you aren't cold, you want to completely wrap yourself in it and forget about everything else; nothing else matters.

What was the best kiss of your life? Yikes. I really think my pulse rate rose to equal levels during all three of these:
First kiss with Jim
First kiss with Greg
Valentine's Day with Sir Testosterone (not written... yet)

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
1. Seriously?
2. Indeed.
3. Holy Mutha Fuckin' Shit! (Although I'm working on phasing that one out due to sensitive ears.)

What is the worst job you’ve done? Carpet cleaning every primary & secondary school in my district during the summer holidays in University; kids are fucking disgusting.

If you could edit your past, what would you change? I would have liked to have stood up for myself a bit more; especially in high-stress situations. Also, I would never have let Jim drive away.

What is the closest you’ve come to death? I went into congestive heart failure due to severe edema 4 days after I had my twin boys. It was terrifying.

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Publishing 5 books.

When did you last cry, and why? I cry every Monday in the car. I crank my favourite music and think way too much... about everything.

How do you relax? Writing, with coffee in tow. It used to be painting, but I don't have a lot of time to do that lately.

What single thing would improve the quality of your life? Money.

What is the most important lesson life has taught you? Everyone is pretending. Be brave; say what you mean and have no regrets.

And so that's it for now; I hope it was enlightening. I'm not tagging anyone specifically - I feel it is like spreading syphilis. If you want to do these questions on your own blog, please do so - you know who I'm taking about. Yes - you! x

Coincidental Fate

It was 5pm and I was insanely early for dinner with some old Rotary people, so I thought I would take the opportunity to drive around my old neighbourhood in Mitcham. It had been more like 13 years since I had been down those back streets; even when I lived there for Uni, I lived on the other side of Melbourne and never really had a reason to go there, nor did I have the use of a car back then.

My old school has long since been torn down (Snif, snif) and is now a block of houses. Nevertheless, it was still nice to drive around those streets. I vaguely remembered some of the turns and curves, including the one where I would have branched off to go 'home' when I lived with the McFucks. Surprisingly, I didn't turn to go see their house, especially since I didn't have a dozen eggs to hurl at their windows... oh ya, I guess I'm a grown woman now and not suppose to think like that... oops! What can I say; the thought of that festering family brings out the best in me.

So then I approached the street where Jason use to live. Yes, we had a catastrophic falling out and I hadn't spoken to him in 12 years, but at one point in my life I actually did believe that I was going to marry him. I flipped on my signal and turned down nostalgia lane; I remembered the house that he lived in with his parents... 15 years ago, anyway.

As I drove slowly there was a man walking down the street on the right side of the road. He was wearing a cricket hat and his face was not visible, but my stomach turned 3 times over. No way! It couldn't be! I rolled down my window quickly and yelled out, "Jason!"

He turned around instantly.

Holy shit. Mutha Fukka. Jesus Christ. My heart was racing, my hands were shaking and I seriously thought I was going to vomit. I turned the car around, drove past him again and pulled over; he was waiting in bewilderment. I was also the LAST person on the planet, literally, that he would ever have thought to be driving down his street! We were both suffering from shock... and I started with a very creative, "Hello there!"

He was polite and I even got a couple smiles out of him. I didn't get out of the car, but we spoke for about 10 minutes. Turns out, he moved 4 doors down from his parents and he was going from their house to his when I drove past. It was getting close to dinner, and he then had to leave. I gave him my card, although I won't be holding my breath for an email any day soon.

My hands were still shaking while I drove away.

Despite our falling out, it was sincerely nice to see him again. I don't know if I would call it closure, exactly, since I'm sure our 'closure' was quite clear 12 years ago when he got SOMEONE ELSE PREGNANT, but it was definitely something. Perhaps just to see for myself, in person, that he was doing well. He would have only been walking down that street for about 45 seconds and that is precisely when I drove past... and I'd like to think that there was some kind of cosmic reason why fate granted me one last visit with him; I am thankful for that.

I'm also thankful for Tide with bleach; because I'm sure he probably had a few skid marks to clean from his shorts after our encounter.

Ode to Melbourne

I love your sun that shines upon my face;

Like a long-lost lover’s warm embrace.

I love your gum trees across the terrain;

Their scent is crisp after a cool winter’s rain.

I love your trams that glide down the road;

They rush towards Finders Street to unload.

I love the noisy birds that warble and chatter;
As I watch the tiny geckoes as they scatter.

I love the Bottle Brush that hangs from the trees;
Their silky red bristles dance in the breeze.

I love the rush from an exciting footy match;

The fans roar and cheer after a great catch.

I love the sea salt that blows in the air;
It makes my skin glisten and bleaches my hair.

I love my mates that I haven’t seen for a while;

Their sense of humour always makes me smile.

I love the Southern stars and your rabbit moon;
It won’t be long now ‘til I see you all soon.

The Hammock & the Zippo

The summer between University and my post-graduate studies, I once again moved back home – which saved me cash, but lost some sanity and freedom – it was a necessary trade-off. I had landed a job bartending at the 4-star restaurant just around the corner from my house – great score! On my first night, I was out having a smoke on my break and one of the hottest guys I have ever met came to join me, and he was friendly. Right then, I really, really liked my new job! He was like a version of Ray Liotta with his piercing blue eyes, but with softer features, better skin and a whole lot of yummy goodness. Even my mother had a hard time sucking back her drool when she came into the restaurant one day and met him. Yes... he was THAT hot.

In my usual fashion, Carter and I hit it off right away and we even started to hang out outside of work. He was a couple years older than I was, so I took that into consideration when I dropped shameless hints about my true feelings and he didn’t respond. Carter must have known how I felt – he was a lot more worldly than most of the younger guys I had been interested in, so I concluded that he was indeed aware, but wasn’t interested. I still kept hanging out with him for a while though but it was difficult to not come off as ‘stalkerish’; he was like a drug and I constantly wanted a fix. Just being in his presence gave me this awesome high and I loved the feeling of it – even if it was only one-sided.

Surprisingly, this story isn’t actually about him, but I had to set the scene. We had been working together for about 3 months at this point, and there was a summer-end staff party at one of the employee’s farm. It wasn’t a huge gathering – maybe 20 people at the most – and the handful of us herbal enthusiasts easily found each other. There were about 4 of us and we gravitated to this fantastically quaint twin hammock set that were hung between 3 trees, away from the rest of the party. I had brought my lucky Zippo with me, as it had been everywhere else with me for the better part of a decade, but as we were smoking pipes, my Zippo was of no use so it got demoted to my back pocket. Carter and I cosily shared one of the hammocks like 2 stoned peas in a pod. Others came and went, but the two of us stayed there for a long while, together. In my fantasy universe, it was actually a pretty romantic setting and all it needed to be complete was for him to lean in and plant a big juicy one on me – but of course that didn’t happen.

When I got home I realized that my Zippo was gone. Shit! I really loved it. It had a magic mushroom on one side and my name engraved on the back. It must have fallen out of my back pocket when we were on the hammock. I quickly called the host of the party the next day and he was able to complete my sentences.

“Did you happen to find a Zippo by th...”

“By the hammocks? YES! And I’m afraid that I ran over it with my ride along lawnmower and gave me quite the fright!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! By any chance did it happen to survive the lawn...”

“The lawnmower? Are you kidding? It’s in about 4 mangled pieces.”

“And just to make sure that it’s mine, can you make out what was on it?”

“Yes, it looks like it used to be a mushroom of some sort. Is that right?”

“Yes, that’s right. Thanks anyway. You can just throw it out if you haven’t already.”

I was dejected; it was one of the few objects of mine that I truly loved and felt a genuinely strong owner-to-object bond with it. I didn’t want to buy a new one; my Zippo days were done. I needed to quit smoking anyway.

About 6 months had past and I was going through my ‘junk drawer’. I rarely went through it – it was like all the crap that I didn’t use but still didn’t want to throw out just yet. I can’t even remember what I was doing in there to begin with, but while I was sifting through it I found an old blue bandana – I hadn’t worn it in a few years and it was tucked away in the back. Underneath the bandana was my Zippo – completely intact and as shiny as the day I bought it. I have absolutely no reasonable explanation as to what happened. It really freaked me out and even though I maintain to this day that it was truly my lucky Zippo, I never used it again.