The most poignant moment of my life to date

My grandma has dementia. I thought she was far gone seven years ago but as it turns out there are worse stages than simply not being able to hold a conversation or occasionally leaving her room without clothes. five years ago I would have loved to hear her say my name but your expectations decline as the illness takes the best from them and now I count myself lucky to get a word out of her. Dementia is a terrible thing. When you get old you expect your joints to fail and your skin to wrinkle. No one expects to be a beauty at 93 but you do buy into the idea of retaining a beautiful nature and personality. When dementia is in your family. You can't even count on that. I am afraid to live too long. It's scary to see her the way she is now. It makes me treasure the time we had with her seven years ago when my grandfather died.

I can still remember her sobbing when the nurse told us. She was such a quiet woman usually. The sound was startling. When we went and saw his body she had one of her rare moments of clarity. She whispered loving words to her husband as my mother stroked his white hair. My grandpa always looked after her but after he died so suddenly it was our turn. We took her into our house and tried to cope as best we could. We noticed her deterioration then. She would tell the same story over and over again, blame my brother for stealing her handbag which she had hidden and forgotten and couldn't seem to string logical thoughts together. I guess I had assumed that she had forgotten about her husband who we were all still grieving for. As it turns out her attitude was simply a testament for what an amazingly strong woman she was.

The moment happened about a month after Robin's death. I walked past her room when I heard her sobbing. I opened the door to make sure she was okay and she was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room holding a picture of him. It broke my heart. I went to her and hugged her and she held me back. We sat like that for a while, just holding each other. When she tried to talk to me she couldn't remember his name. She just told me that he was beautiful.

I felt so protective of her in that moment. I wanted so badly to shelter her from her illness. I couldn't though. Her mind went slowly and the grief was replaced with a numbness as she forgot more. She declined and we gave her up to a home. Now she has to be fed by a nurse and I feel victorious if she responds to me in any way at all. I wish there was a happy ending but its impossible to stop time.

Birthday Thiefs

My birthday is on the 11th of Feb. Its been that way for 20 years so people should have gotten used to it by now and attempted to mentally reserve it for me. But no.

Birthday thief #1: My dog Alphie. Here he is... 

Alphie the dog

Well I suppose my parents are the real culprits. Alphie is a Human Society doggy so we don't know exactly when he was born, only that it was some time in February. Naturally my parents decided to celebrate his birthday on the 11th. They even made a cake that looked like him! but no cake for me :( and then at the end of the night everyone sung happy birthday to Alphie. 

Birthday thief #2: My boyfriend's Newborn niece. How do i compete for attention with a baby?? Babies turn people into babbling, clucky idiots. Its like a super power or something. Even I am not immune to its forces of doom.

When Nikki went into labour the day before my birthday I thought I was safe but unfortunately for me the birth just had to be well over 24 hours and end in a c-section. This was all because the baby "did not want to turn around". It seems awful suspicious to me. 

Needless to say, now that I'm competing with a puppy and a baby my birthday will never be the same again.

Giving Blood to the Garbage Bin

First of all, I'd just like to say that this is one slightly negative experience concerning a very good cause. I have happily and successfully given blood in the past and I will continue to do so in the future.

Today one of my friends posted something on facebook about NZBLOOD doing a drive for O+ blood. I figured that I should do my good deed for the week and make a donation since I'm O+. I called up and to my surprise they booked me an appointment in twenty minutes. 

At the clinic I filled out a form. No I don't have HIV. No I have not slept with any prostitutes lately. No I am not a prostitute myself. No I don't have mad cow disease even though my boyfriend would have answered differently (wow I'm lame). I thought for a moment that I wouldn't be able to give blood as I had been to the dentist the day before but as it turns out it was over 24 hours ago so I was in the green zone. PHEW.

Anyway! I was ushered into another room where there were around eight people currently giving blood. I sat down while the nurse prepared and had a giggle at the tv in the room which was showing a polar bear attacking a walrus. The nurse looked at me like I was crazy. It was far too awkward for me to explain that the only reason I found it funny was because I could just imagine the walrus saying "Bad day. bad day. bad day, bad day..." as it was being chewed in front of it's friends. 

So I gave blood and finished in record time for me. Another nurse came and took out the needle but when she had set the bag down she lifted up her hand to find that it was covered in blood! My blood! 

"It's leaking she said" and ran to wash her hands and was there for at least the next five minutes using most of the soap in the dispenser no doubt. I got down from the seat and just stood there in shock as the blood leaked out of the bag before my eyes and formed a growing puddle on the desktop. For some reason all I could do was laugh inappropriately just as I had done in a morbid part of the documentary they were screening. It was just crazy to me that there was at least a cup of blood that had come out so far and none of the nurse had tried to move it or clean it. "It must not have been sealed properly" the male nurse who had observed my inappropriate laughter before said. 

The nurses just sort of stood there looking at me and after a while I realized that they were hoping I would leave so that they could clean it up. Obviously they wouldn't be shoveling the blood back into the bag and mailing it off to some poor sod who needed it any more. I had no delusions about that. they certainly wouldn't just reseal the bag and then send it away half empty either. It had already been partially exposed to the air and was no longer safe. My blood was on a one stop trip to the rubbish bin while it was still warm! And wow was the awkwardness written all over their faces. I hesitantly excused myselg "I'm just going to go." I had my cookies and juice and then I laughed the whole way home. 

The looks on their faces were totally worth the whole ordeal. "Bad day. Bad day, Bad day. Bad day..."

Jub-Jub the Demon Cat

Introducing Jubjub, Spawn of Satin!

Jubjub, my boyfriend's demon cat sitting on my computer case with my wireless mouse inside.
She occasionally shifts her body, moving and clicking the mouse and making it difficult to use my computer.

So usually I'm a fairly likable person mostly because I like everyone I meet as a default setting. It really takes a lot for anyone to get onto my naughty list. The only soul that has ever accomplished it is this cat.

I really think we are natural born enemies. My boyfriend says I just have bad judgement in cats but I promise you I have my reasons. I'm going to tell it to you straight and see if you agree.

#1 She Throws Hissy Fits When I'm Around

When I'm sitting in her place on the bed (next to Jordan), hugging Jordan, sitting next to Jordan, talking to Jordan... making eye-contact with Jordan she shows her disapproval by knocking everything over that she can. Glasses, vases, my bags, she almost succeeded in knocking the computer over once. So much jealousy and passive aggression in one so small.

#2 She Won't Let Me Cuddle Her 

She is so fluffy so occasionally I want to put my differences aside and give her a cuddle. She leaves me with nothing but scratches and regrets and gives Jordan all the cuddles he requires.

#3 She Takes All Jordan's Cuddles!

Jealousy goes two ways right?

#4 She Selectively Desecrates My Clothing 

This doesn't seem to happen to anyone's clothing but mine. Sure she used to pee on a lot of stuff when Jordan first bought her but old seem to habits die hard when it comes to me. There is absolutely nothing that says "F. YOU" more than looking someone in the eye as you take a dump on their sock minutes after they have taken it off. I attempted to adapt to her behavior by putting my clothing in a high up place. It worked to a degree but on the odd occasion that I forgot Jubjub was never slack. Most of the time it was only a lovely stinking stain on my jacket or a puddle in my shoe. On one occasion I picked up my bra to find that it had served as a litter box for the Jubster at some point in the night. This earned me the lovely nickname of "Pissy Tits" from Jordan's flatmates. 

#5 She Meows ALL Goddamn Night 

She apparently has immunity to tiredness (might be something to do with the fact that cats are nocturnal but Idonno!) and she uses it relentlessly leaving me and Jordan without sleep. Apparently she only does it when I "sleep" over at the Boyfriends. I suspect it is all a part of her plot to turn Jordan against me and have him all to herself. 

Do not be deceived by her name. She is nothing like the sweet Neopet from our childhoods.

Picture of a Neopet Jubjub, not to be confused with Jubjub the cat.

Approach with caution!

The terror of checklists

Checklists are made to be broken right? Right? This was the checklist I wrote out last night

• Tidy room
• Organize work experience for Engineering
• Wash my laundry
• Definitely tidy your room
• Organize something with a friend
• TIDY YOUR ROOM YOU PIG

The results of the day are as follows

• nope
• nope
• actually yes
• nope
• forever alone nope
• forever a pig nope

And now its 8:30. The day is practically over and I sit in shame trying not to look at the checklist on my wall.

Instead I started a painting and re-watched Attack on Titus.

My Procrasti-Watching

My Procrasti-painting 

I certainly did not tidy my room.

My Messy Room of Shame 

Why couldn't I have started the day like all the other days of my holiday? No expectant checklists that disprove from my bedroom window now that the day is over. Because winter is coming. I am a sweet summer child but University will soon be here and if my checklists are not done during the semester I can kiss my engineering degree goodbye. It will be better tomorrow.