What a world: 1st Edition

July 13, 2011

Welcome to the first edition of What a world.. what I hope to become a regular post about all the wonderfully and awfully strange things that make me think “what a world” I encourage the few people who read this to take a moment and comment on their very own what a world thoughts, moments and observations on each edition.

Lets start off with a particularly shameful one for me… and even more so for my husband. What a world am I living in when an intoxicated appreciation of the music of Katy Perry bleeds over into non-intoxicated times. That’s right, the singer who I once found absolutely abhorrent, mostly because of her giant boob/eyes combination which I find evil, her stupid jesus wrist tattoo and my strict rule not to encourage people who photograph themselves in denim shorts. All this changed during a drunken hen’s night on a bus dance-a-thon courtesy of my pal Stacey. Suddenly as I sculled plastic cups full of bright coloured sparkling wine and attempted to pole dance against the bus bell railing, California Girls by Katy Perry sounded like the greatest song ever written.

I bought the cd during a late night spending spree at a texas target super-store while on holiday because it was cheap and I was tired of listening to Andy’s emo shit or Gomez in the rental car. Now it turns out that I listen to the cd frequently in the car and sing along loudly. I thought that things you consider a good idea while drunk such as wearing leopard prints, walking home, thinking you’re a good dancer and having self-loathing infused sexual relations with ex’s, friends or iphone app randoms are meant to disappear in a vail of shame once sober. I guess I was wrong…I fear next time it will be something more damming…. What a World

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The Company Men

July 12, 2011

So it’s likely that I won’t start my new job until the end of July/ early August and as much as it is paining my bank balance at least I can use the time to brush up on my lit review and report writing skills..you know the ones I pretended to be so proficient at during my interview…little does she know I ain’t done shit like that since my uni days which were AHHHHHH 10 fracken years AGO. Still with a few weeks up my sleeve I thought I had time to reinvent myself into project worker Enid but alas I am going to be put to the test a little sooner than expected as I found a surprise email in my inbox today from my new Manager suggesting I come in to meet the team and go out for a coffee with so we can discuss project ideas and research etc. All good things for a normal person but in Enid’s mind it’s one big clusterfuck. I think this woman has got the wrong idea about me…

I think the reason for this is my interview happened just before my trip to America so I kind of didn’t give a shit. Once I finished the written test there were only three rather simple questions to answer and becauase I have already worked for this area of the health department as a counsellor I had a lot of back ground knoweldge… anyway to cut things short it was a Fluke I don’t really care interview and in my 30 minutes of misplaced confidence I came across as an ideas woman… I ain’t no ideas woman, I’m the person who comes up with a response to a question on the bus ride home, or at least that’s how it worked at Uni, to ensure I got the 10% participation mark during tutorials I would simply repeat a slight variation of something someone else had said.. or repeat what the tutor had said previously or when faced with an extreme situation drop out of the class entirely and enroll in the same unit as an online student and use the exact same methods as I just mentioned but with the soothing buffer of a computer screen, username and 4am postings while intoxicated from the sweet nourishment of a can of UDL and a bowl of easy mac. I am all about the gloss about not really about the content and follow through… I spent more time huddled in the Murdoch computer lab with Mark thinking of brilliant titles for our essays rather than focusing on quality of context, that was an afterthought.

Plus going for coffee with people in Mount Lawley always brings up my issues, like sitting at those tiny tables, encrouching on other peoples space, that fact that I don’t know anything about coffee and all those fandangle new ones like Latte’s….what is a latte? I don’t know, and don’t even get me started on ordering tea for two or tea for one, high tea. I grew up in a home where my mum added water to milk cause she said it was too strong but I swear it was just to stretch its use out. Oh and not to mention it is the scene of my one brief moment of conscious perfection…I sat in a coffee shop, Il Sotto if I remember correctly cautiously boasting with my friend about the fact that we both had partners and things were coming up roses only to find ourselves simultaneously dumped less than two weeks later, we had to flee the city and burn break up emails by the creek. You see this kind of rambling? this is also another thing I’m scared of, if I get to comfortable in a situation I can go from 0 to highly inapproriate in about a second. What if I start telling her stories like this? Arghhhhhh.


The hills have eyes

July 8, 2011

STOP THE PRESSES today I got my eyes tested and purchased some new glasses. I don’t even know if they look good because every time the tiny blonde following me around suggested I try a pair on I couldn’t handle having to stare at myself in those awfully shaped optical mirrors so I just kinda went along with anything she said looked good. I also have to wear them more often so I am now a full on nerd. The whole eye testing process is so much more formal than I remember it to be, I was slightly off my game because as I purchased some birthday cards for my in-laws at the garden city newsagency I noticed that Taylor Fucking Swift (who incidentally is on my list) has her own greeting card range? Now is this a common thing? have I been in such a depression haze lately that I was unaware of the trend toward celebrity brand greeting cards. You would think these cards would feature Taylor in some way but instead from what I allowed myself to glance upon briefly for fear my eyes might be engulfed by the pits of hell the cards do not feature miss Taylor but instead pictures of virginesque girls, lots of curls and glitter guitars. I nearly bought one for my sister-in-law just so I could examine the card more intensely at home ala the Da Vinci Code, hoping I might be able to connect this development to the apocalypse triangle consisting of Justin Bieber’s cosmetic range and the rise and rise of Will Smith’s spawn.

Anyway I was obviously rattled but I tried to engage politely and normally with the specsavers employees that is until they asked me in the little interview room if I had private health insurance. Of course I don’t because I just don’t have the money at the moment but every time someone asks me that question and I reply no I always feel self-conscious like a criminal at a job interview or something. I also kept moving during the eye test you know the one where they puff shots of air into your eyes… so humiliating. When I finally got to see that actual optometrist I kept thinking why didn’t I chose a career like optometrist? That could have been me sitting in a black pencil skirt and fuchsia blouse listening to my ipod and telling people “better or worse” on repeat. It seems that unlike my jaw my eyes are in good health and I still have the same issue as before, one of my eyes doesn’t focus properly so whenever my eyes are open they are having to strain to focus… thus resulting in my lovingly referred to “drunk lazy eye” in photos while intoxicated, I guess when I’ve had a few my good eye decides to have a holiday.

So my glasses expedition in the end was a success, now I just have to deal with tonight’s impending crisis. A friend has just asked me to download some scrabble phone application so we can play against each other… soon her illusion that I am actually smart will be shattered. Damn you Android, first I lose my husband to Angry Birds and now my false feeling of superiority over others.

Bye for now
Enid


Jawbreaker

July 7, 2011

Ok people listen up..it’s confession time. I have a serious yet hilarious problem. I keep telling people and they either don’t believe me or think I’m making some kind of sly reference to a certain sex act. OK- so I can’t open my mouth wide anymore. Seriously, I keep trying but it’s like my jaw has locked at a certain point and just won’t let me open any further…at first I thought it was amusing but then when I had to eat a cup cake with a knife and fork things got real. I’ve also had food just drop out of my mouth since this started making me feel like perhaps this is my body’s final stand against my desire for glorious food leaving me in a cruel world where burgers are vitamised and fed to me through a straw in my tiny mouth hole.

So of course I started googling the symptoms, using words like “lock jaw” “can’t open my mouth but no pain” I felt as ridiculous as when I diagnosed myself with restless leg syndrome. using Wikipedia. Now my old friend wiki tells me I might have TMJ
to add to my list of body defects somewhere between a big toe with no nail and not having any of my vestigial organs..I’m running on essentials only PEOPLE. It seems that Mark’s wish for me to be the first to die in our friendship will come true but it won’t be the push of a gentle panther that gets me dear friend (as per your year 2000 request) it’s going to be the slow decay of my body toe by toe, jaw ligament by ligament.

I shouldn’t really be making light of this, I should be crying because this kind of Jaw dysfunction reeks of me having to turn tricks at Samson park to pay for some shmuck dentist to fix. I’ve skated by in the last 8 years or so giving NO MONEY to those white clothed thieves, my balcatta harvested teeth have held up, who would have thought it would be my fucking jaw that would betray me… Well it looks like I will just have to keep my mouth closed for a while because I need to buy new glasses on Friday which should be fun, I can picture it now, some size 8 slightly trampy librarian type (this is how I imagine optical employees to appear) trying to up sell me a pair of 500 dollar Burberry frames, grating away at my optically challenged self-esteem. Arghh, oh well at least I might get a blog post out of it, I’ve already used my ace jaw material for the week.

Enid


Nine Lives

July 6, 2011

Sadly as I briefly mentioned in my return post after struggling with her health for the last few months my nonna passed away on May 21st. It was hard news to hear standing on Sunset Blvd in Los Angeles, knowing how my mum must have been suffering and there I was so far away unable to comfort her until I returned home. It broke my heart. The last time I saw my nonna before she passed was a few days before I left for my trip, she was oblivious to all the fighting going on around her, or perhaps she just didn’t care to get in the middle of her daughters crazy back catalogue of issues with each other anymore. Her last words spoken to me were to tell me that she loved me, and that’s the funny thing, while she was not an overly warm woman I never doubted that she loved me, everyone else, I’m not so sure. I don’t mean that in a nasty way I just think she knew that I got it. I understood her suffering, her disappointment and the fact that she just wasnt meant for this world..this new crazy world she found herself in all alone, unwilling to acclimate and unapologetic about the fact. I have to admit there is a bit of me in her and I respect her position even if it did bring her pain at times.

I think most of her grandchildren and to some extent her children just saw her as a cold woman, a stubborn one who didn’t seem to want to budge on a lot of things. However in my eyes she will always be a tough, mysterious woman with a wicked sense of humour. When I use the word mysterious I’m not joking, when I was the only one willing and it seems able to write her eulogy I realised just how little I knew about her and for that matter how little ANYONE knew her. I spoke with her daughters and not a single one could tell me when, where, how she was born, how many children she had or what exactly she did with her life before moving to australia with her daughter and husband. I had bits and pieces from my own memories of her storytelling in broken english but nothing that I trusted as fact, so in the end I just wrote the memories that counted to me. Her devotion however misunderstood to her daughters and her grandchildren and her devotion to her faith in God, one I shared for a long time. In fact a memory just springs to mind now, my mum and I were arguing about her treatment of nonna, I was arguing that she didn’t need to be treated like a baby and for some reason out of frustration my mother decided to blurt out that I don’t believe in God anymore. I tell you the look I got from my nonna at the moment was epic, I know she heard what was said but thankfully she pretended like she didn’t…I think she knew that I had my reasons.

The funeral itself was hellish, I just can’t stand them. I always feel like people are acting. Maybe I have seen too many in my short life. As if a sign from Nonna herself that the whole thing was slightly bogus the priest kept pronouncing my Nonna’s name wrong, referring to her as Ursula which she fucking hated with a passion. Anytime someone called her Ursula she would mutter Italian swear words and talk of curses, usually the culprits were my cousin’s dimwitted homey boyfriends…As I sat in the church hearing him repeat Ursula this and Ursula that I thought to myself is it really that hard to pronounce Ersilia dimwitts of the nation, its ‘ER’ as in “D-ER BRAIN” ‘Sil’ as in “Silly Cunt” ‘EeeA’as in “EEEahh get me the hell out of this place”

I think the most revealing part of the whole process has been the fall out, the vultures who are money hungry come out of the woodwork, the ones who didn’t care to see her when she was alive are all of a sudden sniffing around to see if they have been left anything. It is so infuriating. Oh and of course declarations delivered by the disingenuous masses, this time in the form of a particular off-putting relative of mine, around my age who has been missing in action family wise since around the time of her first menstruation, so sincerely declaring that she was saddened by the state of our family… how we had to be closer, spend more time together, how she wanted it to go back to how it was when we were younger (read: before all the deaths, divorce and menopause fuelled bickering got in the way). She actually made a lot of people feel guilty in the room, so I decided to take a leaf out of my less cynical side and take her comments as a genuine appeal for support and well what do you know…three contact attempts made, zero reciprocation..apparentlty she is planning a trip with her 50 + year-old wealthy husband, go figure too busy for family…It amazes me what some people will do for an audience.

The thing that has been eating away at me is I just know it is going to get worse before it gets better.


Reason Number # 54: In the case of I’m turning into my Mother

July 5, 2011

Remember that saying, Don’t sweat the small stuff? man that book really bugged me and I believe it is because just like my beloved mother I have lived a life sweating, obsessing and gently caressing the small stuff in life. Last night when we were watching Masterchef together she let out a tirade against a young female contestant named Danni. When I asked her to explain her hatred she informed that she didn’t like Danni because her tongue is too white. This also meant at one stage I had to hear my 57 year old mother, dressed in a pink flannel nightgown shout at the tv screen “bitch take a toothbrush to that white tongue of yours and fuck off” exact quote. So I guess the lesson here is next time I put someone on my “list” my husband knows who to blame.


Sucker Punch

July 4, 2011

Hello Blog world…Enid is back.

It has been quite sometime since I graced the pages of my humble blog and surprisingly in that period of time when I remained silent my world was in chaos, both the good and bad type of chaos. Now anyone who knows me is aware of my penchant for making lists… (it’s easier than dealing with life) so here is a Enid Vs Everything list of what exactly has been going on in my life over the last 6 months or so.

1. The cause of my mystery illnesses was discovered and it related to small gallstones blocking a duct and causing my liver to function very poorly and led to lots of pain, an inability to eat and finally jaundice which led to having surgery to remove my gallbladder.

2. I visited the USA baby… after all that stress and worry about whether or not this little hermit girl could handle the big city I went and I had a wonderful time.

3. I got two more tattoos…taking my grand totally to 4….I have to fulfill my white trash quota somehow.

4. In the last few days of my trip, I received the sad news that my Nonna Ersilia passed away at the age of 86.

5. I came home to a shit storm of family troubles…to say it was a hot mess is an understatement.

6. I wrote and delivered my very first Eulogy and I wrote and delivered my first character reference for my childhood friend who is currently in prison for drug trafficking, trying to get an early release.

7. I experienced an episode of depression, anxiety and agoraphobia unlike any I have experienced since the great depression of 2001. This led to my doctor putting me on antipsychotics which left me in a perennial state of zombification.

8. I resigned from my job at Fremantle hospital

9. I started seeing a clinical psychologist again

10. I got a new job as an assistant project officer for the prevention branch of the Drug and Alcohol Office W.A

Phew…that’s a lot of stuff…no wonder I’m so tired. I need a break and the washing has just finished so I’ll be back.

Ok so I have definitely had my ups and downs but I have decided to pull my head out of the sand, put down the remote control and work on getting back to my old self, taking advantage of the time I have off in between jobs and to put it in “Balcatta” terms, sort this shit out. So for the moment the plan is three simple steps, firstly I need to stay on my medication and keep seeking counselling for the time being. It’s funny how even though I myself have worked as a counsellor, whenever I see a professional of that nature when I am agreeing to “homework” I often think…”yeah right” to myself.. ok rich lady charging me 180 dollars for this 50 minutes of therapy I am going to start working on my cognitive thoughts before bed to stop having violent flashbacks and dreams. Then last night I had a dream where I was laying on a beach in the middle of nowhere and all of a sudden a huge frill-necked lizard almost the size of a grown man landed on top of me and was about to eat my face off if I moved.. safe to say I woke up in a pool of sweat and with my heart sounding like the chorus to a metallica song. Needless to say my sleep was a bit off after that. So guess who is going to be giving the good doctor’s homework a try tonight…. ME.

Secondly I am going to really try not to stress as much as I normally do particularly about things like money or the future. I am going to make a conscious effort to just put a bit of faith in the world and hope that things just kind of work out in the end. Finally I am going to stop living vicariously through my beloved tv and actually attempt to occasionally go out and live life..you know be a normal human being and socialize with other human beings. In fact I have already started and look for a future update in the next few days on how my “friends with non-sexual benefits” journey is going.

So there you have it.. for the three people including my long suffering husband who actually reads this thing (aka. # 231 attempt to sort out my crazy life via words on the internet) expect more regular updates that will hopefully range from a couple of deep and meaningful to a lot of the silly and neurotic stuff my few readers actually want. I’m talking to you Mark.