Archive for December, 2008

A giant “F**k You” to 2008.

– inspired by http://fuckyou2008.com/

Farewell to the worst year of my almost-24-years .. 2009 For the Win!

The Worst:

- Younger brother was in a horrific accident that left him lucky to walk – and even luckier to be alive. Seeing him like that in the ER is something I never want to have to witness again.

- A month of shitting blood saw me undergo a very unpleasant medical procedure to check for Ulcerative Colitis, Crohn’s Disease, and Bowel Cancer.

- My Pop, who had his first heart-attack in his late 40s, and has been on the operating table more times than I care to think about, underwent multiple angiograms and a course of beta blockers, before having stents put in. This coincided around the time that he lost a substantial amount of money in the stock market crash, and in superannuation.

- Lexi, my 5 year old Silky Terrier who was the love of my life gave us the scare of our lives when she first met a cane toad. A trip out to the After Hours Vet, a dose of Valium and an overnight stay caused much anguish ..

- A month later she met her match after a second encounter with a toad. She died in my arms on the way to the vet. My heart broke. I cried for a week, and was so distraught I could barely get out of bed, let alone go to work.

- I landed myself in the Emergency Room after having a seizure at work – the day before our Engagement Party. Eight hours later, after much protesting at having to stay in, an IV and so many blood tests that I couldn’t even sit up, they let me go home. I didn’t drink at my Engagement Party, and was in bed about midnight, while my other half and everyone else partied on. I’m still having tests – EEG is next month.

- After 25 years of marriage, my parents separated.

- Upset at the split, and the thought that even after 25 years there were still no guarantees, Nick and I cancelled our storybook wedding.

- We were taken for a ride by a number of wedding suppliers when it came to obtaining a refund, and were threatened with defamation suits after writing about our experience online. Eventually they came to the table, but it took many phonecalls, and was a lot of stress.

- Leaving my perfectly healthy at-time-4-month-old puppy in the hands of a “professional groomer”, she gave her back to us two hours later with a broken leg. More than $3,000 later, along with three surgeries, and pins put in her leg, she was “healed”. At 7 months of age, she walks with a permanent limp, and her leg constantly annoys her.

- The Groomer, who had at first agreed to pay all Vet bills, turned the story around on us, and refused all liability. After sending her a letter along with documentation from the Vet, asking her to contribute towards the bills – she told EVERY GROOMER IN DARWIN that we’d tried to “sue” her (uhh, no .. ), and had us “black-banned” .. It was rather difficult finding a Groomer who didn’t believe the lies she’d spread, and would agree to groom our poor dog, who was sweltering in the Darwin Build-Up!

- Job uncertainty has been HELL.

- My brother got accepted in to the Army. I know this should be “good” news, but to me it’s not so great. He’s my little brother. The thought of losing him after nearly losing him in Feb is heart-wrenching.

The Best:

- Getting my Mollydog in July .. Bittersweet really, because it meant Lexi was gone.

- We booked flights to NYC in May 2009 – with the big wedding cancelled, we decided to elope.

- I finally figured out what I want to do with my life career-wise.

- After more than a year working out in a rural community, my Dad moved back into town – not into our house, but at least he’s closer now…

So long, 2008 – don’t let midnight hit you on the backside on your way out!

"Fat Cow" just gained a whole new meaning ...

From what I can assume was only induced by too much sugar before bed, last night I had a horrible, terrifying dream … well, a nightmare, really …

Both my Mum and significant other shipped me off to a … “Fat Farm”. Needless to say, I jumped out of bed first thing this morning and hit the gym with gusto.

It’s rather telling of what I think about myself of late, isn’t it?

Around this time every year, I start to examine the year that was. It’s about this time that I decide I slept and ate too much; didn’t exercise enough, work hard enough, or save enough .. basically, I berate myself for wasting 365 days of my life, and gaining a kilo – or five.

I start to formulate a “plan” for the coming year, which without fail includes my list of New Years Resolutions. A list that only sets me up for another year of failure.

My first “resolution” was made in my seventh year, after hearing my Mum vow (yet again) that she would “resolve to lose weight in 1993″. I vowed I would keep my room clean, a resolution that lasted all of about a week. I had better things to do then arrange my stuffed animals neatly on my freshly made bed. My Mum didn’t keep her resolution that year, either – the next year she signed up with Jenny Craig.

As I got older, my list of resolutions became longer, and quite frankly, increasingly ludicrous. Resolutions over the years include, but are not limited to: lose weight, get straight A’s, give up chocolate, lose weight, experience my first kiss, get a job, become a vegetarian, lose weight, save money … the list goes on. And on. Funnily enough, one year I did lose weight – a lot of weight. But I can thank a predisposition to an eating disorder that evolved into anorexia, rather than attributing any weight loss to the making of a resolution prior to the New Year for that one.

By the end of 2006 I was a pro at creating my “resolutions”, and I’d decided on a “fool-proof” plan that would see me succeed in 2007. I came up with “Project Buff” – a resolution that involved monthly goals, and was to see me on my way to a fitness mag body. Unfortunately, this plan back-fired, and the monthly goals that I thought were so perfect only resulted in my self-esteem suffering twelve times a year, instead of just the once.

Standing in Times Square, New York City, at 11:40pm on December 31st last year, I decided I was DONE with making New Years Resolutions. The ball dropped, I saw in 2008 with one million or so other sardines, and I went back upstairs to my hotel room to eat Ben & Jerry, and watch the street cleaners sweep up the few tonnes of confetti that had been dumped on us just minutes earlier.

Sans resolutions, 2008 was probably my worst year yet.

So. Here we are at the end of my twenty-third year. The not making resolutions for the year didn’t work too brilliantly for me either – I now feel like a failure for not having any resolutions to reflect back over … It seems I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.

I do well with structure, but if you pen me into too small a space, I tend to rebel. This year, I’m making non-resolutions. Instead, I’m giving myself some general guidelines to live by: