(no subject)
I've had a bit of a live journal dry spell because of that old cliche' "if you haven't got anything nice to say, then dont say it at all" thing. It hasn't been a hard and fast rule given that the last few entries have been inspired by my old friend misery, BUT, things are looking up.
In the wee hours of Friday morning, Ayla and I jumped in the Pintara and coughed and spluttered our way up the Hume Hwy. Given that I had been driving for four hours and it was only 5am, I decided to pull over about 6 kms out of Chiltern (a northern Victorian version of Amish land) to rest my heavy lids. When I awoke 30 minutes later, I couldn't start the fucking car. All I had to survive was four kilograms of chocolate and a bottle of brandy (I guess its been done before!!) After standing on the HWY, clutching my child and trying to hail down a good samaritan for another 30 minutes, I realised that all the Lexus-driving fuckers had better things to do. So Ayla and I watched the sunrise above the dusty moors of good ol' Chiltern, awaiting our knight in shining armour. And over the horizon he came.....Our knight in shining jodpurs. He was driving one of those big ass utes that was clad with ariels, spotlights and bull-bars, complimeted with such accesories as "Show us your hooters" and "Doze a greenie" stickers, adorning its windscreen. He introduced himself only as Bazza, and informed me in a friendly voice, that he was on his way to shear some sheep. He jump started my battery while chit-chatting to me about his recent contingency in the Chiltern pro-rodeo.
He was quite possibly that lovliest hooters lovin, sheep shearin, rodeo rider I have ever met. I was even thinking evil thoughts involving rather crass methods of seduction.....But even so, I'm sure despite my ripped fishnet, knee high boots, low-cut lace and hair extensions, the mournful tunes of Current 93 droning out of my stereo and the sheer look of neediness on my face, I would have appeared as just another fucked up melbournite in need of my next prozac fix.
We made it to Woolongong alive however. We all enjoyed the squeals of delight this morning once Ayla had discovered the trail of easter eggs in the garden this morning. And Micah and I have been by her side during the chocolate-induced dizzying highs and terrifying lows that have marked our days.
In the wee hours of Friday morning, Ayla and I jumped in the Pintara and coughed and spluttered our way up the Hume Hwy. Given that I had been driving for four hours and it was only 5am, I decided to pull over about 6 kms out of Chiltern (a northern Victorian version of Amish land) to rest my heavy lids. When I awoke 30 minutes later, I couldn't start the fucking car. All I had to survive was four kilograms of chocolate and a bottle of brandy (I guess its been done before!!) After standing on the HWY, clutching my child and trying to hail down a good samaritan for another 30 minutes, I realised that all the Lexus-driving fuckers had better things to do. So Ayla and I watched the sunrise above the dusty moors of good ol' Chiltern, awaiting our knight in shining armour. And over the horizon he came.....Our knight in shining jodpurs. He was driving one of those big ass utes that was clad with ariels, spotlights and bull-bars, complimeted with such accesories as "Show us your hooters" and "Doze a greenie" stickers, adorning its windscreen. He introduced himself only as Bazza, and informed me in a friendly voice, that he was on his way to shear some sheep. He jump started my battery while chit-chatting to me about his recent contingency in the Chiltern pro-rodeo.
He was quite possibly that lovliest hooters lovin, sheep shearin, rodeo rider I have ever met. I was even thinking evil thoughts involving rather crass methods of seduction.....But even so, I'm sure despite my ripped fishnet, knee high boots, low-cut lace and hair extensions, the mournful tunes of Current 93 droning out of my stereo and the sheer look of neediness on my face, I would have appeared as just another fucked up melbournite in need of my next prozac fix.
We made it to Woolongong alive however. We all enjoyed the squeals of delight this morning once Ayla had discovered the trail of easter eggs in the garden this morning. And Micah and I have been by her side during the chocolate-induced dizzying highs and terrifying lows that have marked our days.