Do you think Jesus ever had to deal with complex parental politics?

So I'm in Sydney at the moment, staying at my Dad's place, experiencing the cruel and unusual punishment that is being required to spend time with my step-siblings. Okay, so they're teeny tiny and everyone else finds them adorable, but personally I find them extremely demanding and irritating. (Qualities I only tolerate in myself, DUH.)

So obviously I was extremely looking forward to moving on to mum's tommorrow, where the most demanding creatures I have to contend with are cats, who are, in fact, actually adorable.

Unfortunately Dad came down with quite a bad cold last night, and has been steadily worsening, and asked today if I would see if my mother would come up (from Newcastle) to get me instead of him driving me down.

As any child of divorced parents would know, there's a certain amount of parental politicking to be expected at any time, particularly in situations like this. I was lucky enough that my parents divorce was fairly amicable- on the surface at least they both claim to bear no grudges.

My mother, however, when informed of Dad's illness, naturally assumed that he was just faking, obviously, specifically to inconvenience her with the cost of driving her million litre sports car all the way to Sydney, and couldn't I catch the train with my suitcase, a set of queen sheets I bought yesterday, and my handbag. From Cabramatta.

I was already somewhat tense due to the whole torture situation so my head sort of exploded, at which point my father felt the need to mention that I 'shouldn't really have high expectations of her (my mother)' and that this sort of stuff happened all the time because my mother is obviously extremely selfish.

At this point I resorted (well, sort of involuntarily to be honest, I am a pansy remember?) to the traditional child-of-divorce battle tool- guilt, by bursting into tears whilst on the phone to my mother, stoically not mentioning it until she asked me why I was sniffing so much. And finally they agreed to meet in the middle (quite literally, at Gosford) and exchange me there.

*eye roll*

Remind me not to get married, now won't you?

M

Hey guess what!

I still haven't had sex with the ex. Aren't I good? I want cookies for this, bitches! I have nearly killed him at several points (or encouraged him to kill himself, you know) but haven't -actually- done so.

Did I mention I live with him now?

Yeah, I know, stupidest idea ever. I am in NZ at the moment but I am looking to move out of his place at the soonest available opportunity. I haven't been blogging since I moved in because I know he will snoop around to find this blog. (He is a hardcore nerd.) But yeah, things are okay. Except that after the last argument I impressively stormed out of the country, instead of just out of the house. (Thanks, Mastercard.)

I am also currently unemployed, making my flagrant Mastercard abuse very stupid but there you go.

New Zealand is lovely, the weather is lovely (I hear Brisbane is drowning, which is bad) and I'm having a nice argument-free time at my grandparents, staying up late to torture certain boys on the internet. Actually just one. *waves*

That's all for now, just letting you (my non-existent readers) know that I am still alive.

Ciao kiddies,

m

*gasp* No? Really?!

I took Sage Vivant's Erotic Personality Quiz and discovered I'm a Bottom!

What is your Erotic Personality? Find out now.

Yes, I am procrastinating, and lo I return to the blog. Nothing to report really, just uni, work, etc. Planning a road trip for the end of the year, and also probably going to Big Day Out.

Ciao Kiddies.

M

Not a real post...

Check it out- I cried!

Some lame post title...

I dreamed about the ex last night. The most recent one. Not the one I've been hanging out with. (I should develop nicknames for these guys or something.)

Nothing too exciting, just us at a house somewhere, watching tv with a couple of people, me curled up with my head in his lap, my hands wrapped around his arm occasionally or his thigh, it was just really nice and felt great, it made me smile. Very sappy and out of character for me, I know.

There was some random dream weirdness where he had a great rotting wound on his foot, but I got over it pretty quickly. Also out of character!

m

More emo shite...

So I'm in some kind of weird emo-fugue. I am cranky with everyone about everything- best mate just moved to Melbourne, and spent his last day in Brisbane with a girl he claims not to like that much but is sleeping with, rather than his best friend. Former best friend has been avoiding text and calls and seems to like moving to Melbourne best friend better.

Put on 10 kilos, thanks to lithium and eating without thinking, woot. I find solace in shopping and sleeping wherever possible, even though sleeping in the afternoon makes me cranky for the rest of the night.

You'll all be pleased to know I did not sleep with the ex, and have decided not to, though he is still around. We are trying to be friends, which is hard work because he's incredibly high maintenance, and I don't do high maintenance friends. I wonder why I bother sometimes, because it's exhausting, but we have fun together and I think once he gets his mental shit together things will be easier.

I've also had a massive inferiority complex for some reason lately- feeling inferior to my friends, to the trendy dressed people at gigs, feeling left out and insecure.

*sigh*

I am regressing back to highschool!

Bed now,

bye kids

Contrary + one million

So, I have a dilemma. (Pablo, you may want to skip this one, so you don't get the urge to kill me.)

Okay, so there's this ex I have, right. Not the most recent one. It's the one who's bed I woke up in a few weekends ago, though that time we just spooned, it was all (relatively) innocent.

Our relationship was always a bit complicated- I only ever really wanted casual sex from him, and he wanted more from me; at the time I didn't really know how to say no to his wanting more, and it bothered me a lot. I actually reached the point where I refused to hang out with him because the chemistry was too insane- I had zero chance of being friends with him without fooling around with him.

Now, a few years on, we've both been through some different things, and while the first time round fucked me up a lot, I am considering sleeping with him again. Does this make me an idiot? He says he's not interested in getting back together, and I just want sex, so what do you reckon? I really need some help!