Today marks the six-month anniversary of my Dad passing out of this world. Tomorrow would have been his 62nd birthday.
I am getting drunk in his honour.
I'm really not in a good place right now (actually I feel that I really haven't been happy since I moved to WA), but I figure like anything broken, ie arm or leg, the only thing that can fix this is time.
So I wait.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
So....
You know when you're following a blog, and then the person goes silent for a while? You kind of wonder what happened to them, and hope it was nothing bad.
Nothing BAD has happened to me, but I spend a lot of my waking life feeling hemmed in and hopeless, due largely to a job that I find incredibly frustrating. It's gotten to the stage now where I write a FB status update, and get emails from colleagues who have misrepresented my words, claiming they are potentially offensive to others.
I've come from a place where inquiry and intellectual rigour were the norm and I've come to a place where... well, if I continue that sentence I WILL be being offensive (the words 'honest' and 'offensive' are pretty much interchangeable here).
I know people over here are sick of me whingeing about WA, and wish I would just fuck off back to the Eastern States. I too am sick of whingeing about WA, and for what it's worth, I'd gladly fuck off back to the eastern states - it's just a matter of finding a job to go back to!
I love the weather, and I love being close to the beach. I love that every single plant we have put in the ground here has not only survived, but thrived. But MY GOD I cannot stand the [CENSORED], the suggestion that [CENSORED], and the [CENSORED]. See, they've got me so paranoid I'm sensoring myself now!
So if I've gone a bit quiet it's probably because I don't have much more to say at the moment.
Nothing BAD has happened to me, but I spend a lot of my waking life feeling hemmed in and hopeless, due largely to a job that I find incredibly frustrating. It's gotten to the stage now where I write a FB status update, and get emails from colleagues who have misrepresented my words, claiming they are potentially offensive to others.
I've come from a place where inquiry and intellectual rigour were the norm and I've come to a place where... well, if I continue that sentence I WILL be being offensive (the words 'honest' and 'offensive' are pretty much interchangeable here).
I know people over here are sick of me whingeing about WA, and wish I would just fuck off back to the Eastern States. I too am sick of whingeing about WA, and for what it's worth, I'd gladly fuck off back to the eastern states - it's just a matter of finding a job to go back to!
I love the weather, and I love being close to the beach. I love that every single plant we have put in the ground here has not only survived, but thrived. But MY GOD I cannot stand the [CENSORED], the suggestion that [CENSORED], and the [CENSORED]. See, they've got me so paranoid I'm sensoring myself now!
So if I've gone a bit quiet it's probably because I don't have much more to say at the moment.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Nearly, but not quite
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Dry July
I'm doing Dry July this year. It's harder than I thought it would be, which surprises me. I mean, it's not like I have to hike up a mountain, or shave my head, or whaever else; I don't actively have to DO anything, all I have to do, essentially is NOT do. And who would think that NOT DOING would be harder than doing?
It's not that I'm a heavy drinker, but I am a regular drinker. Those days where you come home from work gagging for a glass of wine? I have a few of those! When I first moved to WA the glass of wine was more like half a bottle, and the 'regular' meant every day. But things have settled down now, and while I thought it would be a slight challenge to get through 31 days without booze I didn't actually think it would be too difficult. WRONG!
The idea of Dry July holds a lot of significance for me this year. Having lost my Dad to cancer so recently, I wanted to do something proactive, and the idea of giving up alcohol had particular resonance. So much of my adult relationship with Dad was characterised by alcohol, from knowing he would always have a good bottle laid on when we visited, to him selecting the wine list for my wedding. Then, following his diagnosis late last year, as his cancer meds kicked in, he could no longer stomach wine. Watching him having to give up something he loved and that had given him so much pleasure for so many years was difficult. Certainly more difficult than going without a glass or two myself.
Then when he died I drank a lot. The week between his death and the funeral I opened three bottles of whisky; I didn't drink them all myself, but I did drink a lot of them.
So I really am doing this for my Dad, in honour of the fact that he himself had to give up alcohol (as well as so much else) as cancer took over his life. And the funds I'm raising are going to the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia, because the John Hunter Hospital in Singleton gave Dad a terrible time, and after what he and his wife went through with them I couldn't just couldn't support raisining money for a hospital (though I know plenty of people have much more positive experiences; it just wasn't right for my fundraising efforts at this time).
It's been two weeks now, with 17 days to go (and yes I AM counting them!). If you feel inclined you can support my cause here Dry July for Col
So bottoms up, but make mine a fruit juice!
It's not that I'm a heavy drinker, but I am a regular drinker. Those days where you come home from work gagging for a glass of wine? I have a few of those! When I first moved to WA the glass of wine was more like half a bottle, and the 'regular' meant every day. But things have settled down now, and while I thought it would be a slight challenge to get through 31 days without booze I didn't actually think it would be too difficult. WRONG!
 |
| Dad pouring champagne at our wedding - 2009 |
The idea of Dry July holds a lot of significance for me this year. Having lost my Dad to cancer so recently, I wanted to do something proactive, and the idea of giving up alcohol had particular resonance. So much of my adult relationship with Dad was characterised by alcohol, from knowing he would always have a good bottle laid on when we visited, to him selecting the wine list for my wedding. Then, following his diagnosis late last year, as his cancer meds kicked in, he could no longer stomach wine. Watching him having to give up something he loved and that had given him so much pleasure for so many years was difficult. Certainly more difficult than going without a glass or two myself.
Then when he died I drank a lot. The week between his death and the funeral I opened three bottles of whisky; I didn't drink them all myself, but I did drink a lot of them.
So I really am doing this for my Dad, in honour of the fact that he himself had to give up alcohol (as well as so much else) as cancer took over his life. And the funds I'm raising are going to the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia, because the John Hunter Hospital in Singleton gave Dad a terrible time, and after what he and his wife went through with them I couldn't just couldn't support raisining money for a hospital (though I know plenty of people have much more positive experiences; it just wasn't right for my fundraising efforts at this time).
It's been two weeks now, with 17 days to go (and yes I AM counting them!). If you feel inclined you can support my cause here Dry July for Col
So bottoms up, but make mine a fruit juice!
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
The Great Southern Slam 2012
So the Australian roller derby community is pretty isolated. We don't get too many international teams coming out to play with us, forming a national team is hard given the size of our country, and online broadcasts of bouts overseas are usually on at 2am our time. But for all that the Australian roller derby community is a thriving one. In fact it was in Australia that we saw the largest roller derby event in the world back in 2010, with the first Great Southern Slam held in Adelaide. This last weekend saw the second TGSS, and it was once again the biggest such event ever held, anywhere!
Three days of non-stop derby action across 5 tracks. To quote one of my teammates, "I now know what derby heaven looks like!" I played in one of those bouts, a very close game between PRD and Gold Coast Roller Derby, where the lead changed five times throughout the game, and in the end we lost by 5 points in the last jam. That sucked, because I was one of the two blockers left on the track when we lost (two blockers and our jammer were in the bin!), and watching that jammer whizz around and around, while we tried fruitlessly to stop her, was gutwrenching.
This event was later repeated at a couple of the other bouts I saw (notably Pirate City vs Brisbane City, and Canberra vs Sydney), where the game was lost in the last jam when one team's blockers and jammer were in the bin. A little lesson for us all there I think!
Overall it was a freakin' brilliant trip. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to go along, and to play. It was touch and go there for a while, with the captain wanting to bench me due to missing too much training (coz I was with my Dad), but I made it there in the end, albeit on a reduced roster. Now that I know what playing against a team you've never played before feels like (chaos, in case you're wondering!) I feel like I'll be more and better prepared next time.
It feels like this was so much of what I have been aiming for since the beginning of the year. I'm actually a bit worried that I will crack now, without that focus. I still have a father to grieve for, after all. But hopefully the regularity of training, and our home team games to work towards, will help to keep me sane.
Three days of non-stop derby action across 5 tracks. To quote one of my teammates, "I now know what derby heaven looks like!" I played in one of those bouts, a very close game between PRD and Gold Coast Roller Derby, where the lead changed five times throughout the game, and in the end we lost by 5 points in the last jam. That sucked, because I was one of the two blockers left on the track when we lost (two blockers and our jammer were in the bin!), and watching that jammer whizz around and around, while we tried fruitlessly to stop her, was gutwrenching.
This event was later repeated at a couple of the other bouts I saw (notably Pirate City vs Brisbane City, and Canberra vs Sydney), where the game was lost in the last jam when one team's blockers and jammer were in the bin. A little lesson for us all there I think!
Overall it was a freakin' brilliant trip. I'm so glad I had the opportunity to go along, and to play. It was touch and go there for a while, with the captain wanting to bench me due to missing too much training (coz I was with my Dad), but I made it there in the end, albeit on a reduced roster. Now that I know what playing against a team you've never played before feels like (chaos, in case you're wondering!) I feel like I'll be more and better prepared next time.
It feels like this was so much of what I have been aiming for since the beginning of the year. I'm actually a bit worried that I will crack now, without that focus. I still have a father to grieve for, after all. But hopefully the regularity of training, and our home team games to work towards, will help to keep me sane.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Family Feud
I thought watching my Dad die would be the hardest thing about this whole trip, but it turns out that it's the whole family feuding and nastiness that happens after a loved one dies that is the really shitty bit.
The day he died all the Menzies clan arrived at Dad's home, bringing our rowdy laughter, tears and noise together. It soon became apparent that Dad's wife and Dad's family have two different styles of mourning. Dad's wife preferred quiet and solitude, so rather than tiptoe around her grief we decamped to my aunt Christine's place. In classic Menzies fashion we have gathered every evening around the table with food and booze, and talked and laughed and cried together until the early hours of the morning. It's been wonderful - aside from what appears to be the degenerating relationship between us and the 'other camp'.
With shock and anger I have watched as the wishes of my Dad's daughter and sister have been disregarded and coopted. From being the only one who wanted to follow my Dad's hearse to the crematorium I was left behind, when the funeral director changed the time of departure the day before and nobody thought to tell me (we had already decamped by the time that happened). No blood relations accompanied Dad on this last journey.
There is such jealousy - probably on both sides, I'll admit that - over our relationship with him. I found out that my Dad's wife often complained about me to my family. I say, kudos to Dad for never letting on. I also feel proud that I never burdened him with similar emotions at my end. For my part I accepted her because Dad cared for her. That's what you do when someone you care about loves someone - you accept them. But from what has emerged it appears there was acrimony from her about both me and my mother. I have to say that at a time like this it's pretty hard not to just write her off as a total bitch.
But I know that Dad would be horrified at these goings on, so for his sake I'm trying to keep it together. Emotions are running high of course, which is natural at this time. But geez, I wish it didn't have to be this bloody hard. It seems like my Dad's death has been eclipsed by family politics and bullshit, and we have lost focus on what's really important, which is the love we all had for Dad.
The day he died all the Menzies clan arrived at Dad's home, bringing our rowdy laughter, tears and noise together. It soon became apparent that Dad's wife and Dad's family have two different styles of mourning. Dad's wife preferred quiet and solitude, so rather than tiptoe around her grief we decamped to my aunt Christine's place. In classic Menzies fashion we have gathered every evening around the table with food and booze, and talked and laughed and cried together until the early hours of the morning. It's been wonderful - aside from what appears to be the degenerating relationship between us and the 'other camp'.
With shock and anger I have watched as the wishes of my Dad's daughter and sister have been disregarded and coopted. From being the only one who wanted to follow my Dad's hearse to the crematorium I was left behind, when the funeral director changed the time of departure the day before and nobody thought to tell me (we had already decamped by the time that happened). No blood relations accompanied Dad on this last journey.
There is such jealousy - probably on both sides, I'll admit that - over our relationship with him. I found out that my Dad's wife often complained about me to my family. I say, kudos to Dad for never letting on. I also feel proud that I never burdened him with similar emotions at my end. For my part I accepted her because Dad cared for her. That's what you do when someone you care about loves someone - you accept them. But from what has emerged it appears there was acrimony from her about both me and my mother. I have to say that at a time like this it's pretty hard not to just write her off as a total bitch.
But I know that Dad would be horrified at these goings on, so for his sake I'm trying to keep it together. Emotions are running high of course, which is natural at this time. But geez, I wish it didn't have to be this bloody hard. It seems like my Dad's death has been eclipsed by family politics and bullshit, and we have lost focus on what's really important, which is the love we all had for Dad.
Friday, May 25, 2012
26.11.1950 - 25.5.2012
This was Dad on Wednesday night. With his wife, her sister, his daughter, step-daughter, her four kids, and his sister and brother-in-law around him, rolling a cigarette (that Dr Pat!). Wearing one of Anne's fur coats in the 12 degree temperature, and smiling.
That is how I will remember him.
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