Back on the Horse

So I lasted 9 months and 1 day without drinking. The first 9 months were easy. The last 24 hours were agony. All of a sudden, on Melbourne Cup Day, I just really wanted a drink.

There may be a few reasons for this but the one I like to focus on, is that I'm happy. I met a boy. A wonderful, amazing, caring, smart, sexy man. And my desire to drink, to socialise, to have a beer or a wine just because I feel like it, returned.

And as my sexy man said to me, "You're just changing your relationship with alcohol". Did I mention that he is wise too? This statement is so correct. When I stopped drinking earlier this year, it was through shame. Shame at my behaviour when drunk, shame at the self-inflicted abuse of my body, shame at my self-destructive patterns that I carried all through my twenties (and allowed me to nurture a melancholy safety-net of negative self-talk that I would never be good enough to follow my dreams.)

And this shame made me scared to ever have another drink again. After I stopped drinking, I had dreams every night for months on end, that I got drunk either intentionally, accidentally or I was drugged by someone else. And each time I woke up, I was sooo relieved that I hadn't had a drink. I had a fear, a phobia almost, about what would happen if I drank. Not so much about losing control but more about being disappointed in myself. About regret and not living up to my own high standards, even though I couldn't really articulate what they were.

But on Cup Day, that fear took a backseat, when all of a sudden at my brothers house, nervous and happy after introducing my family to my beautiful boy, I decided to have a drink. To calm my nerves. To celebrate. To relax. To socialise. To live a little.

I drank lots of water. I only drank a little bit because I was driving anyway. And I felt great. So happy. And the next day, not a skerrick of a hangover.

Fast forward to last Saturday night. Celebrating my friend's 40th birthday, I had a few drinks. Not many. Two beers and four modest glasses of red wine. Again, I drank quite a lot of water. But for the next two days I had a hangover. That red wine in your veins, heavy limbed, dull headache and general blah feeling. After hardly drinking anything and eating a big wedge of pork belly for dinner! Surely the pig blubber would've soaked up any nasty hangover-producing molecules!

So that's where I'm at now friends. Two drinking experiences under my belt, one positive, the other less so and a gorgeous new boyfriend who helps me to articulate what I'm feeling. And now, with no sense of shame or fear, I know that I am merely drawing up a new contract with booze. A pre-nup if you will. For the first time in my life, I am renegotiating my relationship with alcohol in a refreshingly sober fashion.

Why I Write

I write because I need to put words on the page. Because it is the truest form of expression for me. When I write, I can confidently articulate exactly what I want to say. Some people say that if they had to make a choice between reading or writing, they would pick reading. But although I have a thirst for knowledge that drives me constantly, I would chose writing. Not because I think that I have anything particularly interesting or important to say but if I didn't let myself write when I got the burning desire, I would go insane. Die a thousand deaths. Drink myself to oblivion. End up in a psych ward. Lie in the gutter, mumbling incomprehensible sentences at the people stepping over me. I write because it's the only thing that makes life have purpose for me. It is my spiritual path and now that my soul has aligned with it, there's no turning back.

It's Been Awhile...

Blogging is an interesting beast. A bit like Facebook, I only tend to publish my thoughts online when I'm feeling positive or if not positive, at least objective about my state of mind.

Hence, it's been awhile since my last post but since it's now October and I totally skipped August and September, I thought I better check into cyberspace and blog to all the unknown readers out there...

So I'm currently unemployed (week 3 of being a bum) and I have to admit - I'm loving it! It's just soooooo nice to take it easy for a change. I woke up this morning (just before 9am, sorry I have to rub it in!) and my first thought was, thank god I don't have a job to go to today. I'm not sure if this is a bad sign? Could I possibly turn into a dole bludger? Or a nicer term unpublished author? It sounds so good doesn't it?

Anyway, I started off my work hiatus with a trip to Vanuatu a couple of weeks ago. It was a lovely, last-minute holiday. I was invited by one of my writer buddies (who I met in Fiji earlier this year.) She is a very generous, welcoming lady and seeing me at a loose end after finishing my banking job (woohoo! did I mention WOOHOO!), she invited me along to gatecrash her south pacific holiday along with her husband and some of her old high school friends.

They were an entertaining bunch and knew how to party, free from the shackles of their teenage offspring. Beer o'clock came around early each day, as it tends to on holiday, and it wasn't long before they were including me in their 'in-jokes'. After slapping loudly down the stairs one day in my thongs, I was nicknamed 'slapper' from then on in!

Port Vila (Vanuatu) has some magnificent scenery. Beautiful crystal clear lagoons, waterfalls, bays and beaches. It really is paradise on earth. The group had already been to Vanuatu a couple of years ago and they were amazed at how much progress has been made with building and infrastructure. A lot of foreign aid has been put to good use in Port Vila, with new smooth roads being donated by America. Also, alot of young people are seizing the opportunity to travel to Australia and do some agricultural work in Northern Queensland, signing contracts for 5 years of guaranteed work. 

We had a great driver, Mac (or Mike or Mark, we couldn't quite work it out with his accent!) who showed us around the island, introduced us to his new bride and told us about his plans to travel to Australia next year for fruit-picking. Mac is 23 and his new bride Sylvie is 21 and they are both signed up to a 5 year contract, consisting of 5 months hard labour, 2 months off to go home to Port Vila, then 5 months on again. For each 5 month stint, they will earn AUD$20,000 which is a hell of a lot of money to them. If they work hard and save all their money, they will make $200,000 by the end of 5 years, and then be ready to build a house and start a family.

Vanuatu is a kaleidoscope of beauty as I said, but flip a coin and you will see what appears to be extreme poverty. Most roads are full of potholes, mangy stray dogs litter the streets and the cost of food and groceries is very expensive. The only reasonably priced commodity seems to be the public transport, in particular the bus service. In Port Vila, buses are normally minivans that are identified by the letter B in the number plate and taxis can be cars or vans, identified by the letter T.

The standard bus fare is 150 Vatu or AUD$1.50 to get around the city centre and buses run all day until around 10pm or so. You don't have to wait at a bus stop (there aren't any) and there is no timetable to follow. You simply stand on the street and wave down a bus, the same as you would with a taxi. If the bus has room, it will stop and pick you up to take you wherever you want to go. This makes getting around very affordable and convenient, whether you are a local or a tourist.

Tourism is the biggest money earner in Vanuatu. The locals are very accommodating, friendly and polite. You get the feeling that the tourist is king in Vanuatu. For example, they sell fireworks in their bargain shops, however it is illegal for Vanuatuans to set them off. But it's fine for tourists to do this. I wonder how these double-standards make the locals feel behind their courteous smiles...

Well I better get off to bed now. I have a 6am yoga class in the morning. I've decided to have a productive day tomorrow for a change! Adios amigos!!!

Words In Winter Festival

Hi peeps! I am very excited to announce that I will be part of the amazing Words in Winter festival this year.

I will be doing a 'edgy' reading at 9.30pm on Saturday 9th August at the Rex in Daylesford, along with some very talented emerging writers.

Check out this link and hope to see you there!

The Kissing Disease

That's right folks. You guessed it. I have glandular fever.

The sad part is that I ain't been kissin' nobody 'cept my purdy twin nieces.

After 12 months of boot camp and general good health, I now have glandular fever, anaemia and a vitamin D deficiency.

I guess this is the universe's way of telling me to stop procrastinating with extracurricular activities, stay indoors and bloody well write!

Ideally I'd take some time of work to rest but I have no sick leave left, cos I kept getting 'colds' for the last few months and taking off a couple of days here and there.

Oh well, I'll just slash and burn my social calendar for a little while...except for something very exciting that I have coming up next month. It deserves a separate post though, so I'll sign off for now.

I did it!

Everyone...I just finished the first draft of my first novel! I already know heaps of changes that I wanna make but that's beside the point. I know there will be HEAPS of redrafting to do and I know that the end result will be nothing like the first draft is now but it doesn't matter. I FINISHED IT! It took four years but I did it!!!

I know lots of people write novels but what you may not know is that there are hundreds more who start them and never finish. Finishing a novel is like running a marathon. Like birthing a babe. With a very long gestation period. And now my baby is here and it might be missing some fingers or toes and it might have a wonky smile but its here and I'm gonna love and nurture it into something special.

Watch this space.

Body Knows Best or My May Meltdown

It seems like everytime my brain tries to outsmart my body, my body turns around and opens a can of whop-ass on my feeble will. Huh? Well you get what I mean, don't ya?

No matter how hard you push yourself, how much you try to cram into your 7 day week, if you're burning the candle at both ends, your body will just stop and welcome in a virus with open arms. It won't even let you dwell on what you should be doing. It prescribes sleep, dead, delirious, drowsy sleep.

As you've probably guessed - I've been sick. No, not just sick in the head ;) I've been properly sick with a cold. This one was another doozy. It took 3 weeks to take hold, then a week of bed and snottiness and then finally, I gave up trying to fight this thing on my own and filled my antibiotic prescription.

So now I'm finally on the mend. Anyway, enough wallowing in self-pity, I'm here to blog goddamit! I've got lots to tell you!

For starters, May didn't go quite as I planned it. I was soooo excited about life in April, the weather was still good and I signed myself up for every possible distraction (from writing my novel) that I could in the month of May.

Then May happened and I couldn't keep up the momentum. I failed my yoga challenge (I went 18 times in 28 days instead of the prescribed 24) and only meditated a few times (I comforted myself by the fact that I would meditate for 5 mins at the end of every yoga class). Instead of having a totally zen month, I got sick and then my stress levels rose to an all time high till about a week ago.

Hence, why I've kept quiet on the blogging front.

After all my amazing bragging about my life and the changes I'd made, I hardly wanted to jump online to admit to you all that I am a charlatan. But I guess I'm doing that right now anyway!

But the yoga challenge ended up teaching me something worthwhile.

Listen to your body and leave your ego at the door. 

I realised that I couldn't do 24 sessions of yoga, not because of some personality flaw or lack of willpower but because my body, the dear old vessel that carries me around every day, was tired. It just needed a rest. It needed to get sick to clear out the debris - the ultimate detox.

The best thing to come out of 'My May Meltdown' was that it reminded me to focus on my writing. Although I haven't been blogging, I've been writing a lot more of my novel and I am so close to the end of my first draft, its scary! I never thought I'd get here. I bloody hoped I would but I'm not always 'follow through' girl. Most of the time I get bored and give up on things. Not important things like people, work and study, I mean little creative projects that I have started over the years. And this is probably because I haven't allowed myself to consider creative things as 'important' or acceptable ways to spend my time.

For example, I have a little black travel cosmetics case (probably about the size of an old-fashioned hat box) that I got given years ago. Inside I used to put all my writing from dinky diaries I kept as a child to teenage journals and angsty poetry. For about 20 years, this is where I put anything I wrote. Occasionally, I would bring it out and read through my scribblings, laughing at how much things had changed and how much they had stayed the same.

Sometimes I would even read parts out to my best friend or boyfriend at the time. But apart from that, it was sealed tight and kept buried at the bottom of my wardrobe.

It was only a few years ago, when I started writing my novel (and I couldn't keep my computer in this box!) that I realised what I had been doing. I was a bloody closet creative. I had locked away that part of my personality, as if it was 'wrong', as if it should be hidden from public view. It was my deep dark dirty secret.

And now, I know this is bullshit. I know I can allow myself to create. I know it makes me a happier, better person. I know it helps me make sense of this crazy world we live in. I know this is my path in life. Finally I have found my passion, my dream. (Maybe not found, more like rediscovered or admitted to myself!)

It feels so good, I want to join the bloody literary mari gras! I wanna get on top of a float, covered with books and magazines and periodicals and gyrate to songs about literature (if there are any and they can be mixed into dance tracks, that is!) I wanna wear my author status with pride. I wanna make a big badge saying "I write and I'm proud of it!"

I wanna go back upstairs now from my lunch break and tell them that I quit. Effective immediately. They can stick their office job where the sun don't shine cos I am worth more than all the dollars and pounds and yen in the world. I am a writer!!!

Hmmm...maybe I've had too much caffeine today? ;)