A friend popped into my head tonight. An old friend.  A friend I haven’t seen in about 6 years.  But after a few glasses of wine, there she was, an ache in my heart.  A regret, a fury, but overshadowing that, an overwhelming sadness.

See I don’t do drama in small measures, when I do them I do them Bold and the Beautiful style.  You know where Ridge is shtooping Brooke or some other kind of river, I can’t recall, brooke, stream, trickle… whatever,  who then turns out to be his sister.  Yep I tend to attract THAT kind of drama.

We were friends from the age of 15. More like sisters. We shared families, Christmases, hurts, happiness’s and covered for each other’s secrets as if in each other’s eyes we could do no wrong.

And then one day she went to work and never came home. We were 23.

She had run off with a man who she had fallen in love with. She had become stranger over night, leaving myself and her family panicked, heartbroken and terrified.   We didn’t know where she was, She had been ripped from us by someone who’d been accused of murdering someone.

I didn’t know if she was alive or dead.  I remember lying awake every single night, crying myself to sleep – who the hell does this actually happen to, this is only supposed to happen In the movies, imagining the worst, going to the police station begging someone to help me.

I  was eventually contacted by a journalist from a newspaper about her.  And so she got her face into the newspaper, a full colour photo. The Bonny & Clyde of the year.  Everyone was now looking for her.  Her family? They were pissed at me for putting her picture in the paper.  How would she get another job oneday with her picture linked to that.  I wasn’t thinking about her future job, I just wanted her home, and so I lost my second home.

One day,  she called me. I tried to get her away from him, did everything I could to get her home, told her the police were looking for her.  Arranged for someone to fetch her, to fly her home.  She disappeared and never called me back, and I had to explain to her mother that her baby wasn’t coming home and that I thought it was my fault that she went away again because I told her the police were after them.

She came home eventually after 6 months, finally being arrested by the police for abalone poaching of all things.  She went to court , was granted bail and finally came home to face the “music”.

One day is all I had to confront her.  I screamed, I cried until my nose literally bled and then she uttered the only words she could mutter to me in between all the sobbing… “I love him”.  I picked my handbag up, looked at her one last time and walked away.

But here she is again.  In my head.  Needing me, after almost 10 years.

When do you actually walk away from someone you love, When is enough really enough.

There are times in your life where you’ll one day be forced to sit back and think “What the fuck just happened here?”

That was me the other night, after watching the beginning of a really cheesy horror / slasher flick.  Dalekins was in the bath and whilst watching some lady getting her head chopped off and put on a stick I decided to have some fun (the 5 G&T’s did help spur me on a little).  So off I toodle, G&T in hand into the bathroom to plop myself on the toilet seat and grin at Dalekins in the most sinister way I could manage (which probably just made me look like I’d smelled something bad).

Me: *serious face* “So Dalekinssssss, I’ve been thinking… we need to start spicing up our relationship a little”

Dalekins: *wiggles eyebrows* “Ye, now we’re talking, are we finally going to try that Position 68 with the rubber chicken and the ladder?”

Me: “Ssssssssssssssssssssssss…….. no, I was thinking, lets murder people.  We can be like Bonny and Clyde, except not rob banks, and um… ye, not the whole die in a hail of bullets thing” *dead serious face but snickering inside waiting for horrified reaction*

Dalekins: “Sure ok” *without skipping a beat* “How you wanna do this?  Oooooh I’m thinking shocking someone with a defibrillator and then people will think he’s had a heart attack! Ingenius I tell you! Ingeeeeenious!  Hmmm but difficult to pick one of those up on e-bay… How about we break into some ones house, tie them to a chair and then put a funnel down their throats, pour petrol down the funnel until they’re stuffed and then woooosh throw a match in and watch them explode all over?”

*blink blink*

Me: “Um…..”

Dalekins: “You’re right! Too messy! Orrrrrr I have ALWAYS wanted a Gatling gun, we can just mow people down in their houses, and the gun is so big it would like literally chop their houses in half… and if the neighbors came running round the corner I would be like ratatatatatatatatata *shooting with his finger gun water flying everywhere*and turn them into Swiss cheese… so no witnesses…” *wide eyes and starting to froth at the mouth a little*

*blink blink*

Me: “You freaking psycho! What’s wrong with you!!!?” *stomps out*

Dalekins:*blink blink*

Dalekins: “What did I dooooooooooo?”

So to say I have had a rough few days at work is an understatement… kind of like saying putting a hot coal up your arse is “slightly uncomfortable”. But I won’t go any further into this because I won’t afford the reason for my “bad few days” any air time on my blog at all.

Anyway, I have been shaken to my core (sounds so dramatic!) and have been forced in “my” mind to make some very hard decisions and choices and it’s made me cry.  A lotttttt.  Yes… my eyes look like a smacked arse.

But what I have seen in the last few days while I’ve been forced into my little “meltdown” is something that makes me all warm and squishy in my pudding area *points to place next to gall bladder*.  My work colleagues are awesome.  I’m lucky that way.

The way they have wrapped themselves around me and tried their level best to try and make me smile is something that’s made me sit back and realise just what I DO have in this place.

Some people tend to look past the people they spend 8 hours a day with, and this is fair because honestly, you don’t get to choose these people, and often you think they suck juicy piles.

However, I’m an emotionally honest get-all-up-in-your-business kind of person and I get involved in everyone’s lives, or try to anyway. If someone has a personal issue, I like to listen and offer advice or at least offer to break into their offenders home that night and shave 666 into their heads because I spend all this time with you, I may as well get involved in your life… why wouldn’t I? I like you.

But to have this kindness shown back to me has blown me away.

So thank you.

To the person who asks me every time they see me.. “where are we going travelling next?” and who smiles and listens to me, you have a wicked sense of humour. To the people who walk past me in the passage, have seen me upset and in tears and have physically stopped me and asked me “are you okay?” with genuine concern on your faces.

For the one who bought me a chocolate to try cheer me up, the one who made me tea to make me smile, the one who told me he hated to see me cry and what could he do to make me smile again (and then did a really weird pelvic thrusty kind of dance).  To the guy who has sat outside with me, next to me while I cried over some personal issue, didn’t say anything but just sat next to me… on the hard floor, so I wouldn’t be alone.

For sending me puppy pictures.  For the one who put a lot of thought into trying to find something that would make me happy and who advises me often, thank you for sharing your private dreams with me (not the dirty kind you pervs).  To the lady who hugs me and tells me she loves me whenever she sees me.  The one who shares his secrets with me because he trusts me not to judge him.  The people who look genuinely upset just because I am upset. The one who it pained to bring me bad news, and to the one who said “you deserve more” and the person who is putting some thought into my future, even if it comes to nothing.

Thank you.  You mean a lot to me and it feels really good to know I have people like you on my side.

Oh and because you’re so special… should I ever go postal in the office with a staple gun…. For you… a 10 second head start

I have realized that with age and experience I have become overly cynical.

The other day we pulled into our complex and saw a women and a guy hugging each other for a long time.  I immediately looked at Dale and said “Ooooh extra-marital! I bet you they been bonking like rabbits while her children have been locked in the cupboard with only a can of tuna and a tin opener to sustain them! The SLUTTTTTTTTTTTT”

Dalekins usually just smiles and shakes his head like a wise old man! BUTTTTTTTTT he is just as bad!  We drove past a sign that said “Personal trainer – I come to your house to train you!” and Dalekins immediately said “Oh ofcourrrrrrrrrrrrse he does, can you say desperate housewives… I can just imagine the workout he gives them!”  and then he did this mad pelvic thrust and an eyebrow wiggle.

Mental I tell you.

Anyhoo about a month ago Dalekins and I spot this massive dent in his back passenger door.  You can imagine the vloermoer I threw “Fucking cretins!! Who just drives into a car and drives off without telling you! *&%$^%%$^#56 fuckknuckllllllllllllle!” with much fist shaking.  Dalekins just wiped a little tear away and then kissed his Alfa better “It’s okay Sofia eeeets okaaaaay!”.

So anyhoo, yesterday our cooky neighbor (I think she’s cooky because one day she had a full on hour long screaming match…with herself!  yep I am pretty sure the answering argument was in her own voice… creepy eh! Anyway she catches us in the driveway yesterday and asks us if she can come in to “chat to us” So there Dalekins and I sit, staring at this woman feeling uncomfortable in our own home while she starts to tell us her life story.  I’m looking at her with a face like a smacked arse, to say I was getting annoyed and freaked out was an understatement… Dalekins and I don’t “do” neighbours… unless you have a machete wielding tsotsi in your house and you need the muscles from Brussels next doors assistance.. you just don’t mingle…

So on she went for what seemed like 30 minutes… now here comes the part where you can see how cynical I am….

…” and then I have had cancer… and with the grace of God… and my family came to say goodbye… God’s love…  and the chemo makes my eyes bad …god loves you.. and then my sister committed suicide… gods strength… and then my car set alight and my dog died and I have recently ended a relationship… but have you accepted Jesus (this is where I dashed to the kitchen for a shot!) and it’s been such a bad year with me almost dying, did I mention I almost died… and I am on a disability pension… and oh yes, I drove into your car a month ago… disability pension… I’d like to compensate you…”

*blink blink*

I could literally hear Dales heart turn into a puddle of chocolate pudding…

Me? I’m looking at her thinking… why the fuck didn’t you just say so.

Now don’t get me wrong, I realize what incredible strength it took for her to come over and admit that she was the loon who bumped our car and sped off in rubber fuelled smoke… but what is with the entire life story and informing us that she is on a disability pension BEFORE telling us that SHE was the one who damaged Dalekins car.  Disability pension, but would like to compensate us… what person in their right mind is going to take money from this lady nowwwwwwwww!!

I’m thinking why you wiley manipulative little wench…

Dalekins is blinking back the tears and offering to buy HER a new car…

Pfft!

So tomorrow is *dun dun dunnnnnnnn* Friday the 13^th, and I have been told by a good friend of mine that I HAVE to wear my undies back to front.  Now you can imagine how this conversation went:

“You have to wear your knickers back to front on Friday neh!”

“Eh? Whyyyy?”

“Tsk’ *rolls eyes* “Because it’s Friday the 13^th”

“Um… but I wear a thong… the ones with the very thin string and I really don’t think my va-jay-jay is going to appreciate the… encroachment”

*more eye rolling*

“Noooo you eeeejit, inside out, not the other way round”

“Ahhhhh.  But I think I did that yesterday accidentally anyways, does this mean I’m off the hook?”

So anyway no one actually knows why I am being forced to wear my knickers inside out – (What if I get in an accident! The paramedics are going to think I’m a retardddd! *makes mental note to put on Wonderbra tomorrow so they wont pay attention to me broeks*)

So anyways I decided like the smartarsey type that I am to trawl Google for some more daft superstitions!

Did you know that you should apparently never put a hat on a bed.  Which makes perfect sense because what if your bed is more of a beanie person?

If you blow out all the candles on your birthday cake with the first puff you will get your wish.  Ok I’m fucked with that one… too many candles, way too little oxygen *sigh*

Cows lifting their tails is a sure sign that rain is coming. Um… or it’s about to poo? I think it’s just basic etiquette to lift your tail before you poo or it would kind of be like us taking a dump while sitting at the dinner table *sniff* hmmm… there’s rain coming…?

A cricket in the house brings good luck. What? No it doesn’t it brings no sleep and sever irritation! I recommend something hard to blat it with!

Pictures of an elephant bring luck, but only if they face a door. Ok wait.  I’m confused.  Must the picture be facing a door, or must the elephant be facing A door when he’s posing?  “ok Dumbo just look towards that door for me… *click click* lovely, you’re a tiger you’re a tiger… *click click* now take your top off!”

Fingernail cuttings should be saved, burned, or buried. Ok I got nothing.  That’s just creepy.

The dried body of a frog worn in a silk bag around the neck averts epilepsy and other fits.  Good luck explaining that one!

If you drop scissors, it means your lover is being unfaithful to you. *smacks Dalekins* I KNEW IT!!!!

Dear Gabby,

All dogs go to heaven and they have met their match in you today.

Thank you for looking after the family so well, your growls were enough to make any tsotsi coming near your house turn around and pick another, because lets face it, you were scary as feck, as big as a Shetland pony and your growl did make you sound like a bit of a hound from hell.

But from hell you were not.  If those tsotsis only knew that your bark was all for show and you were a big sissy they’d never believe it… but I heard stories of you ski-ing on the tile floors when you spotted a rat and jumping on the couch howling like a baby as if this thing would eat you alive! You big girly girl!

You were a connoisseur of all things sqweeky and would spend hours walking around with a plastic hotdog hanging out of your mouth just BEGGING someone to try take it from you.  And you always saved your drewl for me.  Thanks, I think.

You were a good dog.  A funny dog, and so violently protective over your people that I couldn’t even hug Dalekins or your mum infront of you before you’d force your way between us then lift your lips to show me the fangs I would be contending with if I didn’t back up off your people…

And speaking of your people, they are devastated at the loss of you today.  You were one of them, a member of the family, as a matter of fact you were the DIVA of the family.  They are feeling the loss of you today, and who wouldn’t, you were an awesome dog, fiercely protective but something warm to cuddle against.  You will be missed more than you will ever know.

Good girl Gabby, good girl.

Rest in Sqweeky toys naughty.

You know… there are a few things in life that piss me off.  No ok that’s a lie, there’s a lot… like only remembering you had a chocolate mousse from Woolies in your fridge when it is going green already and is ready to climb out of your fridge all on it’s own and eat your poodle.  Like that would ever happen to me… a wasted chocolate mouse pfffft.

Today however, it is parents who do not put seatbelts on their kids.

Are you retarded? And yet… you managed to somehow breed? *squints eyes*

Now who am I to judge, but should some chick shlakking her Maybelline Uber black-make-your-lashes-look-like-a-hookers X3 mascara on while driving just happen to stab aforementioned mascara wand right in to her stupid eye (in the middle of a gear change that she is battling to do and still hold her cup of coffee in that hand) drive straight into you, I’m curious,  will you:

a)      Manage to (in milliseconds) snatch your child who is precariously balancing by holding their hands on the dashboard out of harms way…? Because you’ve been bitten by a radio active spider and have spidey skills like that? No…? You’re an arse.

b)      Avoid an accident you can’t see coming? Your driving skills are so fucking awesome that you somehow think you would never be involved in an accident even if it were, let’s say the fault of the guy who has downed 10 Klippies and colas at the Dros and thinks his way home is right through you?

c)       Here’s my favourite: The lady sitting in the passenger seat with HER seatbelt on HOLDING the child on her lap because oh yes wait, you are going to be able to stop that child from flying through the windscreen with your hands? Shew but you strong ey?  If you are not restrained while holding the child on your lap, you will just end up adding crushing injuries to the child on top of the accident injuries you moron.

Car accidents are the leading cause of unnatural death in children.

I have had a friend who has gone through a windscreen a beautiful girl and come out the other side looking like mince meat.

You’re the big person here idiot.  It’ll take you less than a minute to clip a belt over them… and yet?

You need a license for everthing nowadays, but any dumb doos can be a parent.

I am having a frustrating day.  One of those days where you feel like you are going to come out of your skin but you have no idea why.

See, I firmly believe that your life should be FULL of “firsts”.

As a matter of fact, it is something you should strive to have every single day, and I haven’t had one in a while.

What do I mean by a first? Well, it’s simple, when was the last time you did something for the first time ever?  Most of you are going to sit in quiet contemplation and realize that it was a long time ago.

See now ladies, a “first” would not include your husband / boyfriend asking if he could stick “it” up your bum, however, it would count if you asked him if YOU could stick it up HIS bum that would be a first, and HOPEFULLY a first for your man… or um, you have bigger problems than finding something to do for the first time. See and that would be a win win scenario for both of you!

So what to do today as a first… what to do…

I could do Bootcamp in the nude… but the sight of flapping boobs and a jiggly butt would perhaps scare the other ladies away…. And yet… that would be a first? (When I say “flapping”, I mean perky as all feck!)

I could launch myself into every office in the building, do a crouch, tuck and roll and a ninja fly kick and then yell “I have exorciseddddd the deeeemons… this room is now clearrrrr” before backflipping my way out… but…  I can’t backflip for shit and would probably end up knocking myself unconscious on the first try and end up on my arse with my skirt up around my head…

Oh life… though art a cruel bitch.

Any suggestions?