My Incredible Journey

Doesn't that title just invoke the imagery of me going down the garden path with a pug and a kitten?

I was always more of a Milo and Otis fan

As always, I digress before I even get to the point of my blog. SHAME! SHAME ON ME! Let's start again.

Babies - what do they do again?

Everyone's freaking talking about them. Some people are even having them. Why? I don't know - they don't do much do they? Just kinda lie there, with those big googly eyes staring at people. Or they look like little aliens when they're mounted onto people's chest, all stuck out with their legs dangly. Does anyone think of the alien dude from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoons, the brain in the jar that gets carried around. What's his name?? Not Shredder, not Splinter. The Brain?? This is going to drive me nuts, people!!!

At work, especially during school holidays, a lot of our clients bring their babies instore. To be fair to the baby, no infant likes to be sitting in a stroller for over an hour with nothing to do. The butt cramps would be enough to make ME bawl my lungs out. The thing that annoys me are the parents. Their kid is crying, what do they do about it?? Nothing! They've obviously desensitised themselves to the noise of their crying baby, but have forgotten that not everyone enjoys the sweet, melodic tunes of 'I've Soiled My Nappy' in D Minor.

Lauren, who sits next to me at work, once remarked: "Geez, I don't know what babies need to cry about. They get fed, burped, and they sleep all day! Quit complaining."

A woman brought her baby instore the other day. She looked tired, and a little worn out. Her son, who was about 4 months old, was emitting high pitched screams every two minutes.

"Can you please...EEEEEEEEEEP....give me the...EEEEEEEEEEEEP.....price to fly to South...EEEEEEEEP Africa?"

I had to ask. Was it a baby, or was it some top secret lifelike transmitter designed to channel out-of-space frequencies, and she was the cleverly disguised spy slash astronaut hidden away in Perth suburbia assigned to study it?

Eh, just a baby. Apparently, the baby screams when he's happy. From the decibels he was breaking, it sounded like he was pretty bloody overjoyed.

So why have babies? Can anyone give me another explanation apart from the fact that humans, like all other animals, have the biological urge to breed and carry on their genes?

I especially love ugly babies. Babies that get toted around by their proud mothers who shove them in people's faces every chance they get.

'What IS it?'

'It's my baby. Isn't she gorgeous?'

'Um yeah. Please take her away now, I just ate.'

** Addendum alert **

Last night, Glen and I went out for pizza with the girls from work and there was the fugliest baby sitting across the table from us. In his words, I think she/he/it looked like a cross between a chihuahua and one of those hairless cats.

Feeeeed me!!

Hayley, my manager, remarked, 'I think that one of my biggest fears, is when I have a baby, it'll be an ugly baby, and I'll KNOW that it's ugly, and people will lie to me and say, "Ooooh, isn't that baby so cute." and I'd say...'

'No it's not, it looks like my vagina threw up?' I said, finishing her sentence.

Anyway, I must stop my ugly baby rant, otherwise I can see myself going down a dangerous road where I've successfully ostracized myself from most Xangans, those who have children/love children, and come from the 'All children are beautiful' mindset (which is generally coupled with the 'Only a face a mother could love' philosophy)

When is it ever okay for people to ask when you're going to start having children? Isn't that meant to be something personal between myself and Glen? It just seems that first, when you meet someone, you embark on this wondrous relationship and then....like the dependable ship on the horizon, the bug in your caesar salad, the scratch on your new car two seconds after buying it, THERE it is.

"So, when are you going to get hitched, eh?'

'When are you going to make an honest woman out of her?' (Ain't noone ever making an honest woman out of me, I tells you!)

'Get married already!! Ah yoh, take so long!' - that was from my parents

'Grab her, she's the best you're ever going to get anyway' - that was from his parents

So fine. We got married, in our own sweet time, thank you.

After the two year wedding anniversary, the questions are BACK!

'So um, clock is ticking huh?'

'Are we going to hear the pitter patter of tiny feet soon?'

'Go off the pill now!! That way you'll fall pregnant within the next two years!!' - helpful advice from my mother, the REGISTERED NURSE

'I would like to put in an order, Sandra and Glen. One granddaughter. Wearing pink. With pigtails. Quickly!' - Glen's mother

Last Sunday, I went to a baby shower. My first baby shower. I'm not terribly close to the parents, Mel and Todd. They are certainly lovely people, but apart from them, I wouldn't know any of the other women in the gaggle attending this particular soiree.

Generally, in a situation when I don't know anybody, and it starts getting a little awkward, I tend to use humour, albeit, really bad, dry humour, as my defence mechanism. If that doesn't work in breaking the ice, I usually go 'Ah, fuck it', head straight for the champagne and aim to get really really offensive.

First instance. My entrance.

'Everybody. This is Sandra.' Mel introduced me to the crowd. Some old, some young. They were telling baby stories, nibbling on platters of food. I saw blank faces and polite smiles as I walked through into the living room. I made my first comment, to test the waters.

'Sooooo, when's the stripper getting here?'

Silence. A cricket chirped.

Okaaaay. Tough crowd. I headed off towards the champers table.

Todd started playing the ultrasound video when I got back. Whooopeee. Thirty minutes of this blob on the screen and a muffled 'wooop wooop woooop' sound in the background.

I turned to him and said: 'I've seen this movie!!! Is this when the Starship takes back the Enterprise?'

A hay bale rolled across the room. (I know, weird huh? What's a hay bale doing in suburban Perth? Stop it with this crazy imagery!)

Anyway, after that, things continued spiralling down further.

At present opening time, after opening the fifth gift of socks, I yell out, "Hey have we got enough socks?" I myself, actually gave the baby six pairs, but that's not the point.

I think the highlight of the shower, was when Mel was about to open my present, she read my card out loud to the whole group. This is what it said:

'Dear Mel, Todd and baby JIB' (her baby's name was going to be Jade Isabella Basler, but I shortened it. Jib. Jibby. I think it adds a certain something.

'Happy baby day!...Or something like that. But on a serious note (as we so often are), Glen and I would just like to say how happy we are for your new growing family. Have a healthy and safe pregnancy, and we can't wait to meet the little Jizzy as she comes out.'

Sidenote: Two months ago, we invited Todd and Mel over for dinner. This is when they first told me what their baby's name is going to be, and then I bastardised it into Jib, Jibby, Jibster in two seconds. A new record for me apparently. Three bottles of red, and half a bottle of vodka later, Glen, Todd and I were quite merry, and I started going over their new baby's name again out loud.

'Jib. Jibby. Jade Isabella. JISABELLA. JIZZABELLA!!! Omigod. You can call your baby Jizzabella!!!! That's GREAT!! Jizzy!!'

As the evening progressed, the names continued. Not quite so creative, I admit, but my fucking god, I came up with a lot of variations.

'Jizzy B. Her ghetto name. DJ Jizz, if she ever works in clubs. Or just Jizzabella, if she becomes a porn star. Madam Jizz, her pimp name!'

Anyway, after Mel read out 'baby Jizzy', it was too late.

The younger women in the group started laughing (about TIME!), while the older women were whispering, 'Oh..Jizzy. That's cute. I like that nickname.'

After that, things got a little better. I didn't feel so alienated after that, or like a childless freak that somehow wandered in for the free champagne and mini berry cheesecakes.

Maybe babies aren't THAT bad. I wouldn't mind meeting my own one day.

But tell you what, when I do fall pregnant this millenium, and I throw a baby shower.

I'm getting a fucking stripper.

YAY!

p.s I've got free premium for a month?? Just realised it! Dammit, that's 11 days wasted. Plus I got premium and all I put up was a picture of a hairless cat? I am so out of my game right now.

The day I got shat on by a close friend

Before I go on...

It's really hard after a hiatus to know what the hell to write. I cannot possibly summarize the past three years so I know what I shall do. Point form!! Huzzah!

Things that I have done since 2004:

- I got married

- Promoted to manager at my store, then demoted myself after a year to work at a better, nearer store to my house

- Moved house

- Bought house

- Adopted two cats

- Mourned the disappearance of one cat - guess the world was calling, hey Afro?

- Had the pox

- Travelled to (in order): Bali, Singapore, Bali, Koh Samui, Kuala Lumpur, Broome, Sydney, Kuala Lumpur, Kota Kinabalu, Vietnam

- Got my bike license and bought two motorcycles (Kawasaki GPX, and Hyosung GTR) - upgrading to big bike license soon

- Turned 25, 25 and 26

- Fired a gun. Well actually, guns. Ruger pistol, revolver and rimfire rifle. Don't mess with me, mofos.

Anyway, now that's out of the way, let's move on, shall we?

Today, I say goodbye to a dear friend. Someone who I have known since I was 15 years old, someone who have shared some of the most memorable moments in my life. We have laughed, cried, danced, sang, joked, talked, shopped, eaten, hugged and god knows what else together.

However, in the past three years, our relationship has not been the most rock solid. She moved to Japan, I stayed in Perth. I stopped partying as much and started 'settling down' so to speak. We stopped talking, emailing. Everytime we caught up, things felt so familiar, yet so strange. I knew in the back of my mind, that we've grown up, grown apart. To her, I was still 'Silly Sanz' without any responsibilities or cares, to me, she was still one of my best friends; unpretentious, honest, brazen, hilarious. Someone who actually cared about me. Let's just call her 'D', shall we?

I knew our friendship was breaking down. I just kept denying it, thinking that in time, she will accept who I am now, who I am with, that she will simply just be happy because I'm happy. Because, after all, this is what friends do, right?

At the same time, I have been childish and naive. How can I possibly expect her to be the same as she was five years ago, as I myself have changed? My expectations of a friend has also changed.

Back then, a friend is someone who you have fun with, the person who you know you're spending Saturday night (and Sunday morning recovery) with without actually making any plans. A friend who spends hours drinking wine and sharing cigarettes with you, and talking about absolute shite without getting any deeper. That was fine for me, because that was all I wanted.

Now, for me, a friend is so much more than that.

A friend is someone who knows that your world is crumbling, and drops plans to come and see you. A friend is someone who will call or send you a message the next day asking, 'How are you?'

A friend is the person who you can waste time with talking about absolute crap, but when there is a need, they will be there to talk about the things that are important to you.

A friend is someone who can say, 'Love, I don't necessarily like ____, but I am happy if you're happy'

A friend is someone who doesn't judge you for what you're wearing, or where you're living, but for who you are.

As I grow older, my circle of friends are growing smaller. Seeing as though I get sad when I throw out a carton of expired yoghurt from my fridge, it does tug at my heart strings when I realise that this person will never be in my life again. The people who I honestly thought I would be friends with forever, have faded away and left me.

At this point in my life, I am grateful for the people who are in my life right now. It's funny the people that you never expect to be by your side, the ones who you meet by chance and think that you have nothing in common, are the ones who end up cheering you on.

It's ridiculous thinking of all the times that I was nervous, introducing new friends, people, boyfriends to D, hoping that she would approve and think that they were cool enough people. She has rejected people on the basis of being 'unattractive' or 'boring', never really stopping to talk to them to see what they are really like.

The killer blow that has ended our friendship started three months ago.

As a travel agent, I generally try not to book family or friends. Now this is a simple principle. Family, or even worse family friends, expect you to give them 'good discount' as that is oh yes, the Asian way. Family forget that it still takes you time to call wholesalers, plan out an itinerary, and being that I'm on commission for a majority of my salary, you're not 'doing me a favour by giving me your business', you're 'expecting me to work for free'.

The only reason why I don't like doing work for family and friends is that you do tend to get a little slack. With clients, I get all documentation signed, copies of itineraries and invoices get emailed or faxed out to verify all details are correct and accounted for. These things, though fairly long-winded and way too much work, are necessary to protect myself if anything goes wrong. If a client calls to complain that I have booked them on the 00:05am flight on Wednesday 23rd May, and they've missed their flight because they thought they were meant to go to the airport on the Wednesday night, not the Tuesday night, then I am covered because a) I have all the signed documentation proving that they have checked their own itinerary and were happy with it and b) it's not my fucking fault that they can't read 24hr time. Buy a Casio, people. Same thing goes for passports and visas, I always check to make sure passports are valid, and visas have been done before they leave.

When you're booking friends and family, all these precautions just seem completely stupid, and you don't want to bother them with this sort of thing, right? Wrong. Ohhhh...so wrong!

In July, D emailed me from Japan to ask me to book her a ticket to India in September. She was planning a three month trip in India to study yoga and painting. I did the work, sent her the information and booked the ticket. She was only going to spend 6 days in Perth when she got back from Japan, and then take off again. I assumed everything was in order and didn't think that anything would go bad before she left.

She got to the airport and was denied boarding because she did not have a visa for India. Um, excuse me? She had two months before she was leaving and she didn't think about getting a visa? At the time, we were still friendly, so she chalked it up to the universe telling her that it's time to stay put in the meantime and not travel. I sent off her ticket to be refunded by Qantas.

In January, we were pottering around at her place, when she mentioned that she had received money back on her credit card, and asked whether this was the refund. I thought it sounded a little strange, considering the airlines always refund clients via our ticket agents in Brisbane, who then sends the money back to the store, in which I would've put it back on her credit card. I wasn't sure but I didn't really think it was something to look into at the time.

Two weeks later, she left to go live in Melbourne. A week or so after that, I received the actual refund instore, and called her to let her know I was putting it back on her credit card. The amount was AUD$1500.

Since then, the Flight Centre accountant came and performed an audit instore. She discovered that the refund from my ticket agent was a mistake, as the original refund was the money on D's credit card that she received the few weeks ago. AUD$1500 was suddenly taken off the store, and subsequently out of my pocket.  On the same day that I have discovered this, I called D on her mobile to tell her the situation. She seemed a little shocked and quiet, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt and asked her to check her bank statements to verify my story. I told her I was to call her back the next day at 1100am.

At this point, I feel I need to summarise to illustrate what's happened here.

1) There has been two refunds back to her bank account. One from Qantas, one from me. In essence, instead of receiving $1500 plus like she should've in the first place, she received over $3000. Ding ding ding ding jackpot!

2) The accountant discovered the mistake and instead of telling me to get the money back first, took the money out of the store, and left it up to me to retrieve the funds. I am currently out $1500. Being as I said before, I work on commission, so losing $1500 is a lot of money for me. Worse case scenario, I can actually get fired based on the fact that it looks like I have simply handed over $1500 worth of company money to my friend. So it's either, a) Pay the money out of my own commisssion, b) Get fired, and c) Explain the situation to D, get the money back

I called her the next day. The phone rang out.

I called her again the day after. No answer.

I kept calling her for the next three months after that. Each time, the phone rang unanswered. I began to feel hurt, and angry. And then perhaps a little guilty. Maybe she was in class all day, she can't answer her phone then. Maybe her phone was stolen?

I sent her text messages. No reply.

Out of frustration one day, I called my friend Simon in Melbourne to find out if D had a new number.

'Uh...nope, it's still the same, Sandra." he said.

'Uh, okay. Well I guess I'll keep trying then. Hey, so um, how's Josh?' (her boyfriend)

'Oh I haven't really seen him. He's gone back to Perth with D.'

OOPS

Stunned mullet silence ensued.

'WHAT?!' I said.

'She's gone back to Perth for a few days to go to a wedding. I guess she's been really busy to see anyone. Uh, she's probably back in Melbourne anyway....' his voice trailed off. I tried really hard to mask the hurt in my voice.

'Okay, well thanks anyway darling. Catch you soon. Bye'

I hung up. Hurt, confused, fuming, VENGEFUL.

I called her house. Josh picked up.

I was a little shrill, which yes, I agree was a little alarming for him. I didn't lose my temper, but I calmly explained what happened. He didn't say much, but two seconds after the phonecall and an embarassing crying jag later, I received a short text message: 'In class now. Call me after 6pm'.

Yay!! Hope!! She feels bad and she understands how I feel!

I called her after 6pm that day. No answer. Called her again 5 minutes later. Again, no answer.

Dejected, I tried calling her nearly everyday a week after that. Same thing again.

My emotions ranged from confused, surprised, hurt, angry, sad, furious, upset, and so on.

My last attempt was to send her an email last Thursday. It would be short, professional, and to the point. I held my breath, and press 'SEND'.

On Friday I had the day off. Lauren called me from work, breathless.

'Sandra!! You'll never guess who I just spoke to! D!!' She said.

I was stunned. That was quick, considering the last three months this has been dragging on. D called, and asked to speak to Hayley, my manager. Hoping this would be promising, I asked Lauren to tell Hayley to call me after she speaks to her.

30 minutes later, I got a call from Hayley. She sounded angry, disgusted and worried all at the same time.

Apparently, what had happened was D called to advise Hayley that she was not returning the money. Her reasonings were:

'This happened 3 months ago. I can't retrieve my bank statements from that long ago.'

When Hayley pointed out that actually, you can retrieve them up to 7 years ago (she used to work in a bank), D switched her tactic to:

'Well, then I refuse to pay due to Sandra's negligence'.

I was a bit confused over this statement. So was Hayley. When she asked D about this, D said it has been going on for a long while now, it should've been dealt with earlier, and it's not her fault that this mistake happened in the first place.

Hayley said that she knew I have been trying to contact her in the past three months, but she never picked up her phone. However, she did know of what had happened since January, so she's just managed to dodge my calls hoping I would give up and go away. In regards to the mistake, well, it happens. If a bank accidentally deposits $1500 into your bank account, you don't keep it. It gets taken back, plain and simple. There's no such thing as free money.

She also tried to use the reasoning that it was my fault in the first place to advise her to get an Indian visa. Visas and passports are the responsibilities of clients. When you book with a travel agent, what are you expecting? For me to wipe your arse? Hold your hand as you walk onto the plane? Even if this was a legitimate complaint, we can deal with it on a customer complaints level, however, no travel agent responds to this complaint by giving the client $1500.

Hayley told me she could not believe how D was acting. In the end, Hayley advised her that since she has refused to pay and settle this at the store level, this matter is now being elevated to our legal division in Brisbane. From there, she will be issued with an official letter, and pending no further response, a court summons will be delivered. After this, Hayley told D she was shocked that she could do something like this to me, as a friend, and even as a client. D ended up hanging up during mid-rant.

SOOOO...I guess this was a spectacular way to end a friendship for good, hey?

The whole weekend has been a series of ups and downs. Hayley and Glen ended up taking me the local pub to get...well...completely shitfaced (3 shooters, two bottles of wine and endless cigarettes later - heyyyyy I'd say they succeeded!) in which very cringeworthy events ensued. I have written a novel on this entry already, so I'll save it for next time! Glen has been absolutely wonderful. After listening to my voice do that weird quavery thing on the phone, he called Hayley to ask her advice on what he can do to make me smile again.

'Hayley, I want to buy her something pretty. I want to give her a present, just because I know how much she's feeling like crap right now.' He said.

Her advice to him?

'Glen, the last thing she would want to have is something that she can keep to remind herself of The Day Her Friend Shat All Over Her. Do something for her that'll last a few moments. Buy her flowers, because they die. Something like that.' She said.

Their solution - get shitfaced!!! Hehehe, I do love my people.

I can't say that I'm over it yet. I have too many emotions to get through first. How do you get over an 11 year friendship? But I'm getting there. I've got some really good people around me. I've got some real friends that I'm grateful for. I have a gorgeous and loving husband, who may not be perfect, but he does fucking worship the ground I walk on.

Life is good.

P.S And here you thought it was a post on coprophilia, didn't you? Sickos.

P.P.S Don't know what coprophilia is? Wikipedia it, dudes.

Has it been three years already?

Why HELLOOOOOO Xanga!

This place has had a facelift! Gawd, I can hardly recognise it. It's like sitting on a favourite used couch, and finding out that someone has left a new buttprint over yours!

It's good to be back. I want to play with all the new buttons, and doohickeys!!

Oh and what the hell is pulse? Xanga pimps tampons now?

I have GOT to stop using the word 'pimp' today.