i’m riding bullshit


#throwback Apr 4, 2015



hormones, NYs and panic fuck addendum:

The down side to living in ‘paradise’, is every cunt comes here for the holidays.

2013 population stats for here were around 600 but I think thats closer to 1,00 now. It’s a small place, and apart from the usual summer bustle, it’s pretty quiet. That’s how I like it.

Then over night our population nearly trebles – over the Christmas / Summer /New Years period.

Dear goddess I’m trying to breathe …

And this is my quick rant before the sedative I’ve dropped completely kicks in and I’m speaking in tongues instead of small witty sentences.

So, I’m somewhere in between a panic attack and / or a hot fucking flush … I can see stars and not of the pretty variety … I’m trying to slow my breathing down … I have on headphones and Nasty Nas is playing … I’m sweating like a rapist … I’ve got big girl tears … I feel like breaking someones face … but feel to fatigued for that … I’ve got an Ice Pack on my head … sipping water and sniffing an orange (for the over sensitive snout) and my insides feel like they’re shaking.

I’m not hungry … covered that base.

Not dehydrated … covering that base.

I got my period early: Yah … Not … but on the bonus, I guess that means the time frame between each of the cycles is shortening .. Yuss.

So trying fucking hard to remain fucking positive and can’t quite get comfortable.

It sucks ass.

Top that off with a final chop with the father and putting all that out there and an overwhelming amount of ‘Silence’ from family … but that was to be expected …

And then theres the “Celebrating the end of 2017” mind sucking posts that are cluttering up my newsfeeds and I think I may just drop another sedative and wake up when it’s all over.

The kids next door are as loud as fuck … their house is on piles so every jump or bump echoes and vibrates Our house … and the spidey senses are freaking out.

Fuck this post is all over the place … oh well … Better out than in as Nan always said ;)

Every cunts trying to go fishing which means tractors and boats are rumbling past the house, and yes, this bitch is vibrating like a jack hammer.

Back to the ‘family friendly’ posts … fuck I’m over those … told my kids I love them … they know that anyway and that I’m in hermit mode … they don’t care lol … ‘Mums doing Mum’.

My ‘partner’ is off doing his own thing … I got asked if I want anything. Pfft.

So, if I wake up before the end of the year and I’m still alone, I’ll try and smile and make Me some of my spaghetti and finish my Limoncello. Not sure what I wanted to do for the end of year ‘celebrations’, but I didn’t have this shit in mind.

Anywho: All power to Yous … For my anxiety ridden compadres … I’m feeling Yah! xoxo

Heres to waving goodbye to the ass end of 2017!


interrupting the routine commentary for an nz update:

$6.20 for 500g of butter!

Wtf New Zealand!

Land of milk and honey my ass!

#photograph: 500g block of butter

trans …

so if i’m menopausal,

doesn’t that technically make me


and wouldn’t that,

at last, mean –

that i would become

gender non-specific?

both societal and biological?

Yuss …


hallelu-Jah ;)


366 reasons to smile ~ +323.

+323. :) LOL


On a backdrop of pink, red and white wild flowers, the following is written:

“Am I perfect? No.

But am I striving to be a better person every day? Also no.”


366 reasons to smile ~ +319.

+319. Yup . . some of us learn the hard way … but at least we learn ;)


“I’m done. I’m sick of his shit”

Narrator: She was, in fact, not done and went on to tolerate his shit a further 7900000 times.




i’m not a


shit a brick

you know,

for someone who

empties their



I’m still

pretty much,

full of


* ” * ” *




















mauri of me #37 ~ bullshit-o-meter

I’ve been plodding around my ‘mauri of me’ segment, (much like the rest of my life at the moment) pretty much detailing the stuff that is ‘Me’, is my essence; but is also pretty meh. If you get my drift. Yes, its all helped Me to remember and understand who I Am; but not really getting to the nitty gritty – the deep and dark stuff. Well that shit, in my world, is called avoidance and minimization.

I was unceremoniously reminded of that tonight whilst reading a friends blog. And it kind of slapped Me in the face, and it still smarts lol.

I’ve been avoiding lots. I know … my average ‘written’ post doesn’t really allude to this fact. My ‘average’ is slightly darker and deeper than most … but it in all truth, it’s surface crap.

I’ve enjoyed wading around in the shallow water of avoidance. I think we all need to take a dip in there sometimes. Helps to ease the tension.

But that isn’t really my area of expertise.

My bullshit-o-meter has always been set to ultra sensitive. And whilst it’s been jumping all over the place lately, I was assuming it was because of the issues with my father etc.

I forgot about Me.

It’s always about Me.

You see, when I avoid shit, I run into trouble. The issues with my father, are to some degree, of my own making. I told myself I was being patient with him … understanding … working through things. And all the while, my bullshit-o-meter was pinging off the charts.

I listened to those around Me that said ‘he’s old’, ‘he’s set in his ways’, ‘he’s grieving’, ‘he’s your father’ … because while they were right to some degree, they couldn’t see what I could see. Which was a big old neon signing screaming “Bullshit … come get your dose of Bullshit”.

I thought some how, that I could lure him out of his own bullshit but instead I muddied up my own waters.

So here I am, wondering if I should reset my meterage or take actual notice of it.

It’s still pinging.

It notes that I have invested too much time in a man who Lies as ‘go too’ response. It also notes that it is set to ‘high’ because there has been a need for it, and although I had come to terms with a certain amount of past bullshit, I shouldn’t set the volume on low just yet. It also notes, that bullshit is bullshit no matter whose mouth its dribbling out of.

With that noted, here’s my point.

I lost touch with my ‘bullshit’ receptors. And whilst getting all touchy and feely about things is cool, and necessary to a certain degree – my receptors are set the way they for a dam good reason.

To protect Me.

As I reconcile, I am able to deal with things differently. There is no need to hide under the covers anymore; or freeze and play dead. No, I am quite able to respond in another form – violently or non violently.

But to remove the alarm bells is stupid.

Lesson learnt.