post script

I am not ded. I am VERY lucky. I do not have serious injuries bar trauma to elbow, ribs, hips, neck, shoulders and a cut on my eyebrow. I lost a favourite tshirt and hoodie when they cut me open at the scene. I then lost all my clothes when they stripped me down in ER. I got to ride in an ambo and inhale funky green gas before morphine sorted me out properly. I stopped traffic for a while, but i cannot fly.

I went over the handle bars down a steep hill at 35km/hr when i slammed on the brakes of my newish bike. Rear wheel kicked up, throwing me into the path of incoming traffic at peak hour on Pyrmont Bridge Road. I was reacting to a car whose movements i couldnt predict: i had the choice of either maintaining my path and maybe colliding with this vehicle, veering right to avoid the obstacle and taking a chance with the cars behind me, or braking. I didnt add gravity or momentum into the equation, math was never my strong point. Lord help me Words!

Hit the ground. Started screaming. Didnt lose consciousness, I think. Managed to get the guy who rendered immediate assistance (Mark) to also call my boss. Right elbow not good, adrenalin pumping thru me so hard i can only breathe short and fast to keep up with my heart. I’m flattened on the road with my bike on top of me; apparently the bike wanted a softer landing then mine. Right about now i remember i have my helmut and gloves on. Ambos scraped me off the road after getting my neck in a brace: the senior officer (Liz) was funny and lovely and calm, suggested i take my guardian angel for a drink.

In ER they discovered i wasnt wearing knickers under my shorts that day. One less thing for them to cut off in a hurry. Weird thought though, lying there with 6 doctors checking my vitals for spinal damage, i’m wondering if i caught them off guard with my commando routine. Then, they roll me over to check for ribs poking thru skin and open my butt cheeks to see if i’m bleeding internally. Kinda wish i was passed out completley for that bit. Next comes the xrays, right there on the table. She was a cold bitch, yanking and prodding my limbs like they werent attached. I could feel it through the fog, she didnt care, a starched white robot straight out of the Cuckoos nest. Sweet irish accent on hand to cover me up with the gown and a blanket, i’m shaking with shock and drugs hard wired in my vein.

They call it trauma. The media call it “Ride 2 Work Day“. I’m calling it “The Day I came Closest to Dying…so far”. Maybe I am overreacting. Maybe you read this and think, what a wimp. But the look on the faces of my friends who came to ER that day brings tears my eyes as i write this. I am only one woman, yet i am not alone. Had my number come up i would have left without question or regret. And so i sit re-reading this, contemplating what it means now to be here, with these friends, in this life i have built for myself and i wonder why.

slore no more?

I got hit on by an extremely cute lad last nite. Had to turn him down despite his obvious interest in me and his endearing persistence. He was 22.

This may come as a bit of shock to my dear readers, but I havent often rejected offers of casual sex from handsome gents in the past (probably because I am usually the upfront one ;). My checkered relationship history has meant that I’ve spent as much time being single as I have been someone’s loyal girlfriend. Its an even 50/50 split. In saying so, the opportunities for exciting encounters with random strangers during the “on” season have been ample. I am, after all, the adventurous type.

My recent decision to stay at the party with my friends rather then disappear into the nite was almost a first. I am puzzled by this change of heart, enough so to blog about it. And potentially muddy my rep in coming clean. But the question perplexes me more then my dirty laundry. Why didnt I run with the wolves? He was totally hot this guy last nite, and bold which I like. It may have been the age gap, but that hasnt really bothered me in the past…could it be the onset of premature menopause???

The likely truth is that I am more interested in a long term partnership then one nite stands these days.

Maybe I have this subconscious theory that if I refrain from casual carnal delights then Mr Long Term No Kids (maybe)  will roll into my life sooner. Part of me wants to believe this fairy tale.

The more realistic part of me knows that life is often unfair and that I may be single for some time yet despite my self inflicted oath of celibacy. There are a lot of hot guys in the world. It would seem wasteful to ignore chemistry and passion between 2 free agents…

Damn, I didnt get his number!

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Today my facebook horoscope apps had this to say:

“This is a great time to throw yourself passionately at the next attractive opportunity.”

and

“Heartwise, you can expect to live an encounter with someone young and brilliant who will fascinate you.”

Well, I guess we can safely say that my timing was well and truly OFF this weekend LOL!

time is nigh

Just a quick note to advise that the battle with my unsavoury neighbours hath cometh to an end. An opportunity to move house has presented itself (finally) and I am grabbing it with both hands. Whilst I havent yet found the new house, I do have the advantage of 2 great flatmates with whom to move. Our options are looking bright for a bigger, better home with bath and garden with sensible rent. The inspections begin in earnest tomorrow.

The sense of relief is overwhelming.

But, I’m not overjoyed to leave my home of almost 6 years. I will miss the grand high ceilings with ornate cornices, the cosy lounge in winter, the blessed sun room, balmy afternoons on the porch. I will miss the long corridor which I used to run up and down when I first moved in after living in poky apartments for too long. I will miss the cool interior when the temps rise in summer. I will miss the huge arched windows in my bedroom, and the view of the old gum trees across the road. I will miss the Kokoda Track which used to run down the side of the house. I will miss living in this house, it has been my island, my mountain, my dancefloor, my home.

The era is over. New life begins.

*** Had an inspection of current house by real estate about a week after I wrote this blog. Turns out that they want to gut and renovate the whole place soon so I’d have to move anyhow. Funny how that worked out. By deciding to move of my own accord I feel empowered. The neighbours will also need to move. But, as the renovations will begin downstairs in my flat first, they will be subjected to the delighful sound of builders for a few weeks before they get the boot. I don’t wish to sound smug, but suck shit you fckn morons***