what was: 1981

#throwback Jun 10, 2015 @ 18:51.

And again, this whole write feels really detached and aloof. I guess when writing about your own shizz and sometimes the more painful shizz; aloof is the only way too go.

Recently I was talking to my Mama about this time in our lives. She recalled things I didn’t. The maemae (sore) that arose, that I still don’t remember, was Me waiting for my father to pick Me up.

I’d had sporadic contact with him and was still ‘hopeful’ that he had actually missed Me all these years and wanted to get to know Me. I guess thats young, naive hopefulness.

Apparently I waited by our letterbox, sitting on my little suitcase, for hours for the father of the year to come and pick Me up. He never arrived. There was no explanation. No apology. No nothing. Which pretty much sums up the relationship there ‘wasn’t’ with him.

Fuckwit fathers leave big holes in their daughters hearts when they can’t be anything but cunty.

I continued to wait for a semi – decent relationship with my father … for years. It’s only been recently that I’ve finally cut all ties with him.

My choice.

My maemae … and my way of dealing with it.

I realise now, he doesn’t deserve a relationship with Me. I’m one badass motherfucker who has strength, attitude, resilience and love abounding. Why waste any of that on someone who does not give a shit about Me.

I remember some of these…

This was the 2nd to last year of primary school. I remember Miss Saunders…her skirts were always way to short for someone who bent over in front small boys all day!

I think we moved houses around this time, and I went to a different school for awhile. Different kids. Different scene. The street we lived on was ‘the other side of the tracks’ type place. Not that we lived anywhere flash before hand … think we were in a flat at the back of a church for awhile after the big ass house burnt down. But this new place, was good … just different.

I don’t remember having friends as such…like ones that I really enjoyed. There was this one girl that just came with the church scene and I couldn’t get rid of her. She was an evil little bitch! She hung around and tormented the shit out of me for years…mutt…I’m working through letting the rage associated with her and her kind go … whew.

I was the little lead swan, in Swan Lake, somewhere around this time … that was cool :) I had a cute little white tutu and all …

I remember having my mouth washed out with soap for saying “shit” lol … I don’t think it worked long term but it certainly did the trick for the short term ;)

We had a goat. It ate everything … literally everything … cos that’s what goats do I suppose. I wonder what happened to him??


unfucking thyself 101.101




Homai to Aroha



I’d just like to point out that I’m at 101 point 101 pieces of unfucking me-self :)

Yup thats all. Just wanted to highlight that.


The photograph? Yes well thats what we do when its cold as fuck but love every minute of it xoxo

Oh, and mindfulness is over-rated.

Well, mindfulness … On it’s on that is. It’s pretty much bullshit. Like driving your car into on coming traffic and using your indicator as you change lanes.

Yup. Doesn’t really make a shit bit of difference.

I believe (note: ‘I’, as in my opinion …) it’s a lifestyle / life view change, that makes a difference. And that shit cant be based on some other wankers (self included) way of doing shit. You gotta do the individual changes – that suit your shizz.

Oh, and stop listening to over-priced wankers that like prescribing pills instead of listening to those they’re supposed to be ‘helping’. They’re full of shit … ‘IMO’.

Yep, thats all for today …


#throwback Jul 29, 2015 @ 18:30

I am glad I have the ability to reshape my beliefs. Aint that what life and living is really all about ;)

I learnt something about myself today, in amongst trying to focus.

I have a whole heap of beliefs…that I don’t actually believe.

I’ve been hanging onto them for so long…because…I think, at one time or another during my life, they suited my purpose…were all that I knew…I didn’t have a wider understanding…they were easy…or easier than the truth…they were true, for that time.

The fascinating thing about reviewing ones own existence, is that the oddest of things surface…right on time I suppose.

the forced

Sitting here … it’s nearly 11am and I’m trying to force feed myself my breakfast .. Still!


And it occurs to this extremely bright individual, that this right here, is what I do.

I force myself to do shit I don’t want to do because somewhere in the depths of my mind, I believe, or have come to believe that, this is the best thing  for Me.

Since I was a little midget, the message has always been … ‘breakfast is the most important meal of the day’ … What? Even if it takes Me 3 hours to eat it? Technically it’s almost lunchtime by then!

But the fuckery doesn’t stop there.

How many other well-meaning ‘chores’ or necessities have I been doing for 40 odd years because some other fucker decided it was of benefit to someone, somewhere?

Oh my lord … there are literally thousands!

“Wash your hands” …. Why? Because it’s clean? Because you’re dirty? Because what you touch is dirty? Is that just with water or hot water? And you have to use soap? Any particular soap? The more soapy the better?

Well what the fuck were we doing before there was soap? And a never ending supply of water?

And for those that clean our hands before and after everything, and scratch our skin off while we do it … thats called OCD and needs medication??

So there is apparently then … a Balance for this shit?

Moving on …

“Don’t look directly at the sun” … Why? Because its bad for your eyes? And squinting at a bright screen all day isn’t?

“Wear shoes when you go outside” … Why? Because the ground hurts our feet? Or because we look untidy?

“Don’t sit on the floor” … Why? Because theres chairs? Because it’s awkward for someone else? Because it looks untidy?

There are literally tonnes of unnecessary things we do because we’ve been ‘told’ we should. These are the mundane things.

But to get back to my point …

How fucked up am I by the things that I have internalised as ‘necessary’ things to do, that aren’t actually? How much pressure do I place on myself because I somewhere, somehow, have decided that this is what I Should be doing?

So as I put my breakfast into the fridge, citing ‘fuck it’ as the go-to quote for this situation … I note: Thou shalt Not do anything without asking thyself firstly:

“How did I get to this place in the first place?”

If the answer is ‘because so and so said it was a good idea’; then I need to revisit that shit and figure out whether it is an actual good idea FOR ME!



#meme is a quote, or excerpt, written by an unknown author, and reads:

Are You An Activist?

“An activist is someone who cannot help but fight for something. That person is usually not motivated by a need for power, or money, or fame, but in fact driven slightly mad by some injustice, some cruelty, some unfairness – So much so that he or she is compelled by some internal moral engine to act to make it better.”




#meme reads:

Fate whispers to the warrior “You cannot withstand the storm”, and the warrior whispers back – “I am the storm”.


#thought (s) for the day:


#meme reads:

As you are shifting, you will begin to realise that you are not the same person you used to be, the things you used to tolerate have now become intolerable. Where you once remained quiet, you are now speaking your truth. Where you once battled and argued, you are now choosing to remain silent. You are beginning to understand the value of your voice and there are some situations that no longer deserve your time, energy, and focus.


and the point?

the point


is that if


take away



else, has every

donated to you


‘meaningful’ fucking advice …

criticism …

a jab or 10 …

you would be left

with something

quite beautifully


to work with.

Aint that a ‘reframe’

Or what!

its busy … and its changing …

We’ve had peoples here over the last week … first the mokos, and thats always good … they’re the light of my sometimes rather dim life. They’ll be back weekly while their Mama and Papa are at work, until they start school again.

They had just left the other day and another lot of relatives showed up for ‘lunch’ and stayed for the night / day instead.

Now usually this would throw Me completely … but this time was slightly different. And duly noted my Moi.

I decided that my partner could ‘bridge the gap’, so to speak, since he was the one that offered for the bridge to be open in the first place ;) Now this meant when he asked if I was alright with everything that was happening, I Chose Not To Throttle Him – as he knows by the time they are there and they’re staying and that decision has been made without Me – it’s really just a fake enquiry re ‘are you alright’ and the truth is not what he’s after.

So I did Me.

I didn’t talk if I didn’t feel like it or want too … I stayed in my PJs till 3pm and blogged … then I watched a movie while the partner got dinner.

A not a pinch of guilt was felt. Awesome!

But even better … Not a pinch of anxiety was felt. Even Awesome-er!!

So 2 things I noted and are in the midst of ‘Change’.

  1. I need to take care of Me in any and all situations.
  2. I need to Not Do what is the ‘expectation’ or even feel the expectation.

So this means that even though I am quite – ‘fuck it I’m not doing that’ – anyway, there is always a touch of anxiety that I’m being self fish or haven’t thought of those around Me.

But in all actuality, it’s usually those around Me that aren’t thinking about what might be or not be, best for Me. They very rarely consider the ramifications of ‘hanging out’ and listening to their banality. Yes, and as harsh as that sounds, there are a few things that happen to a person when their earliest memories are having a dick shoved in their faces. Thats right, chit chat about where the latest restaurant is located and going to the Mall to buy a new outfit, becomes as banal as fuck!

So it was with this recognition that I realised the aforementioned ‘need to do’s’ for myself.

You see, no cunt is going to do it for Me. And even though I have repeatedly expressed my ‘predicament’, there is but a handful that actually get it and an even smaller handful that are still willing to make the effort to adjust their way of thinking and doing things, so that I can be included.

That said … I have but a couple of goals this year … art classes being one of them. The other things are taking the trip up the river with my Mama to find where our tipuna were from, and getting to know the group of ladies that will be part of this years exhibition. I’ve decided to add 2 more things on to this list.

First is to do something for my birthday that will be OK for Me. Last year I did an Italian dinner at my daughters house and that was awesome. I enjoyed the prepping and organising and event the cooking part … which was huge for Me, as I usually abhor cooking. I was going to do this again, but have decided against it … on that scale anyway. I want to go somewhere. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that will match my feng shui. Nothing stressful. Nothing mindfucking. I haven’t completely figured out what that something is yet … but I’m working on it.

The second thing is reframing New Years. The New Years just gone was an absolute bitch. It was noisy as fuck hear as the population trebled in our little town. And I’m all down for peeps enjoying themselves, but their ‘loud’, their fireworks, their unexpected intrusions … made for one hell of a panic fucked night that extended into the following week, and the ‘peoplely’ thing still hasn’t died down really, and it won’t till after the kids go back to school on February.

So this New Years I’ve decided I’m going bush. I may take a friend but will probably end up going by myself. I’m thinking, middle of nowhere, quiet, no people, hot tub and a bottle of limoncello.

You see, I’ve worked around what is everyone elses ‘norm’ for so long, I’m uncertain of how to do Me, the right way. And I figure, if I try out this new routine for my birthday, I’ll be more ready for new years.

I’ll be fucked if I’m going to be fucked so everyone else can enjoy themselves.

I’m over it!

But to achieve all this, means that I also need to ‘trim’ the expectations. I love my daughters … I love my friends … but I can’t do all the extra conversations and ‘please can you do …’ things, and be alright for the things that I actually want to do. I learnt that the hard way over the last couple of days.

The mind is willing, the bod – not so much. And I figure this is what the dreaded ‘balance’ theory is all about.



reconciling the hormones #47

I actually have a sneaky suspicion that this is partially true!