Timing is everything

I haven't had a drink for over a week. I haven't had a cigarette for three days.
Yesterday I found out that I may not have my contract renewed because the old bar manager is well enough to work and his job had to be held open for him.
MCITG decided that, even though I don't want anything more than sex, he can't do it anymore - again.
I'm over all of this big time.
Running away is the best option. I can't take this up and down anymore, when is it going to stop?

Just what I think...

I wonder, about a lot of things really, but this week I have this on my mind.
Do the women out there that are naturally beautiful know how envious I am of them? No, probably not, they wouldn't be looking my way for the gorgeous guys flocking around them. It surely must be easier to get through life when you are beautiful.
I remember, I actually remember things from so far back it's scary.
I remember when I was in Kindergarten and the girls all played kiss chasy with the boys, where they pretended to scream and fight them off, but loved it when they were caught. See, I tried to play, but I NEVER got chased, and therefore never got caught. I would run around, giggling and trying to get the boys to want to chase me, but they didn't. I am not pretty, and have never been pretty.
There are few photographs of me. I am 34 and I probably have no more than 25 photos of me from throughout my life. I have my kindergarten photo, and can name almost all of the kids in it.
I still get cars slowing down so that the guys can bark at me. I remember clearly the guy that said "Fuck, you're ugly" right after I finished playing a lead role in our high school play. I think that the play might have been good, maybe I was good, but I remember what that guy said and not much else about the whole thing. I was at an outdoor concert and this guy turns to me and says, "Wow, you have a big nose". I can rmemebr what both of those guys look like, how they talked, the scene. I never had a boyfriend at school.
All my memories are of things and times and places that hurt me, of when I was stupid, and ugly, or drunk.
I am a drunk. To be truthful, I am an alcoholic. I have had a problem with alcohol since the first time I picked up a bottle at the age of 14. I drank myself almost into a coma the first time, and have been doing it over and over again ever since. I drink when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm bored, when I'm socialising, when I'm hiding, alone, with people, at the pub, at the beach, any where, any time it's there, I have to have a drink. I cannot say no, nor can I have just one. I must drink until I am drunk. Not always stumbling and mumbling, but a lot of times. I have embarrassed my friends, my parents, my boyfriends, and myself. I have been taken advantage of, woken up in strange beds and with strange men. I have woken up with such severe hangovers that I have had to go to the hospital for an intravenous drip. I have blurred so many memories, yet I can remember times where I made a complete dick of myself. I have been so drunk I have pee'd the bed. I have slept in gutters, on front lawns, with the dog.
I have only driven really drunk once, and there would have been few times I was close to or over the limit. I was smart, don't drive or you can't drink. Make sure you get a cab to where you need to go, stuff some money on your shoe, or sock so you have enough to get home. I didn't want to hurt anyone else or lose my licence, so I avoided taking my car anywhere. I bought a ute, with only two seats so I couldn't be the designated driver. I hid my drinks so it looked like I only had one or two, I shouted at the bar so I could get a tequila shot in while I was there. I would hide in my room and drink cider so it didn't matter if it got warm. I mostly lived by myself so people couldn't see what I was like.
I really don't like myself. I don't like the person I am. I don't like the way I act. I don't like the way I look. I don't like the fact that I am an alcoholic. I don't like the way I talk, what I say, my eyes, my big nose, my blotchy skin, my mousy hair, the shape of my body.
I hate having to be this all the time. I hate having to be me each day.
I haven't had a drink since last Sunday night, one week. I was at the pub and drinking with the guys there - they aren't my friends, they're just people that drink with me - and I was told that I did something that is so abhorrent to me that I couldn't believe that I had done it. I got up and walked out. I came home and sat in the shower and sobbed for a half hour, and scrubbed myself with a brush until my skin was red and sore.
I don't remember doing that thing, I don't even remember the night it happened. It was one of many nights that I have sat in that pub and got drunk.
I don't want to be the old lady that sits at the bar and drinks and makes a fool of herself night after night.
Besides that I'm ugly, who would want to put up with this?
I have sat and thought, "Why can't I keep a boyfriend/job/frind/money?" and the answer has been alcohol all along.
I get drunk in front of someone, and they see what a dick I really am. Then I avoid seeing them again so that I don't have to face the enbarrassment. Not really the best way to get or keep friends.
I can remember all the times that I fucked up. Where I fell off the bar stool, when I passed out at the wedding receptions, where I drop glass after glass, where I went to the toilet and fell over and couldn't get up for 15 minutes or more. I woke up with bruises, sprains, even concussion. I woke up with cuts on my face that should have been stitched, blood everywhere, and no recollection.
My life as a drunk is horrible, and I can't find anywhere to run away to. As soon as I get there I ruin everything by going and getting drunk, then my act is all over. People see the real me and I know it's ugly and unlikeable.
I keep trying to find a place where no one knows who I am, or where I come from, or the real drunk under the facade. AND I KEEP ON RUINING EVERYTHING.
I am so sick of it. I will dry out for a while, then go back to thinking I can handle it, I can have a couple without going too far. Then before you know it, the drunk is back.
This is killing me.
You know, I think that one of the reasons I say I don't want kids is because I know that a drunk can't be trusted to look after them.
Fuck this shit.

Tell It like It Is.....: Splendour in the Grass...continued

On the Jacks and Dry now, totally over the beer thing.
Condescending is a word that comes to mind right now.
There's a lot more people here to see Shihad than I expected, but they are a great band, especially live, Sarah Blasko wasn't as packed.

OMG - she's really painful. Blonde, about 20 ish - maybe not even - loud - politically incorrect - and condescending - all three are really loud, and painful.

SUNDAY - 24/07/05
Crowd is mellow. A lot of younger people - more media - Channel V.
They bailed us up in the line up for the showers - how embarrassing! I turned my back to the camera, I mean, the shower line??? We really aren't looking our best here.
Willie Mason is fantastic, my kimd of mellow - I was thinking how MCITG both like black music, but such different styles and eras.
It's gonna rain and get cold - I think I left the tarp out in the rain.
Air pressure has dropped, temperature has dropped. There's not much shelter - a big tent a short sprint away.
I wonder how legible this will be to me or anyone else.
Gumboots!! What a good idea. There's not enough rubbish bins. The place is filthy. I bought a jacket for me and a stubby holder for MCITG.
The sour smell of yesterdays grog at the beer tents should be enough to put anyone off drinking.
Willie Mason is pretty good when you're stoned and at a festival. Hope I get around to blogging this.
Drinking coffee.
It's slowly filling up - Kid Confucius was pretty good, but the tent was way too close to the beer tent and I couldn't put up with the rank smell. Should eat soon.
Lots of faces look familiar, and yet I know none of them. Quite odd really.
Not one babe that I would bother to take home. Not that I would have much chance. My true form from last night - blind - stoned. Talking to Lionel - a local guy that was there because he was with the crew that put up the rigging for the tents - he had a very big vocabulary - rather an intelligent guy. And he had a huge bag of pot that he was more than willing to share.
The wind has picked up slightly.
Glad I bought stuff.
I wonder if he is really a crusader? (Willie Mason) or just a guy that got lucky and now gets to preach his words/songs to an attentive audience - or is he a regular joe?
People watching and speculating.
OMG - Sean Staunton just walked past. I haven't seen him in years. He looks exactly the same as ever, a little older but he has aged well. He's waving at a girl, looks like his girlfriend. Wonder if he's drinking?
I'm still pretty mellow - long day ahead.1.45pm, Moby is not on until 9pm, that's a fair wait.
Need to call Byron Taxi and confirm.
Some odd getups, poeple express themselves in so many ways - OMG - a safari suit.
God I feel old - It's hard, with so many different types of people around, for me to put them all in the box I think they should go in.
Who, in their right minds, brings kids to something like this.
There's so many oddballs. Do these people have a niche? Or are they also on the fringe?
That's my life - I moved on - dropped out - rebelled - moved on again - reached out - left out - put out - copped out - blacked out......
I might be sunburned and am sore, not used to sleeping on the ground, got a chiro appointment on Tuesday, thank God.
This band doesn't rock my world.
There's a lot of wannabes out there.
Sandflies? I seem to be itching.

Girls(me) with bad hair, guys with bad hair, some with really great hair, kids with great hair.
There's a girl, there, wearing a "handkerchief" top and 3/4 length lightweight pants, she makes me cold just looking at her.
There's a guy in a dress and a fur coat, everyone's muddy.
2.15 - time's going so slowly. I want to eat, but don't want to get up - I'll lose my seat. The thing about going to one of these things on your own, you got no-one to mind your seat.
The sun has some sting - even through the clouds.
Said I'd call MCITG, not that he will really care, it was nice that he called me on Friday night though.
So glad I'm not drinking today, I need to get some more H2O.
How many rockstars are roaming in the crowd?
Heaps of merchandise sold.
The temple has opened again for the day.
There are people that appear to glow. There are the beautiful people, the NQR's, the people that don't have to try but are beautiful anyway.
Sun coming out is warming the place up.
There's mods, sk8ties, footballers, yobbos, plenty of young dumb and full of cum types. School friends, model types, fat, stoned, skinny, undercover cops, other observers too. Some that don't even know that they're doing it. Lots of stoned people. Fat people that aren't dressed right, boys in blue - heaps of those.
So want something to eat. Sour smell of alcohol still hovering in the air. It's the sun coming out, that's good but I'm getting sunburnt.
Some old guy just took a photo of the crowd.
Some very drunk guys.
Can really tell the visual people in the crowd.
Have indigestion still, lots of hippies around. Not much speed, or at least not obvious.
Hah, there's last night's coke idiot.
This guy sits down next to me and shows me this lump of white stuff in a bag. He then asked me how he should break it up. I asked him what it was, he said coke. I said "Credit card idiot". he then looked at me blankly and showed me a safety pin that he was scratching at it with. Anyone that stupid doesn't deserve coke, I almost said that to him. I felt like taking it off him and telling him that, and then telling him to go away. I pulled out some lip gloss from my bag and proceeded to roll it over the bag until it was crushed up. The guy says - get this - "That's still too big to put up my nose". Again, I felt like hitting him in the head and taking it off him. So I gave him an empty can, and told him to do what I just had, and roll the edge of the can over it until it's crushed enough to sort. So dickhead turns the can upside down, letting whatever it was inside it leak out all over the bag - which has tiny holes in it by now - and then says "Half of it's gone". At this point, anyone would have smacked this guy in the head and took it off him. I told him that it wasn't gone, it was wet. He asks me what he's supposed to do with it then, I told him to "Dry it out idiot". I think he got the message because he got up and left then.
Last night went fast, but I was drunk.
Need shoulder cracked.
Not eavesdropping much. Not a lot of good tatts - heaps of piercings.
It's gong to get really cold later.
Everyone's looking for a place to sit down. I haven't seen anyone arrested, but that reminds me of the bitch fight I saw last night.
I was going back to my tent for more clothes and to get stoned, and there were these two chicks going for it, one was screaming at the other one to "Let go of my hair cunt", and the other one was yelling "I'm going to get you". There was four security guys trying to pull them apart, and then one of them was being dragged away saying "I beat you bitch, I won". It was so funny.
Wow, A whole group of freaky looking people, NQR, but at least THEY have friends. Kinda nerdy looking.
A dude dressed in orange, wearing fairy wings is being stopped for photographs.
This is kinda like trying to capture the pictures on film, but in words instead.

Confirmed - 6am pick up.

Bloc Party have drawn a huge crowd. It also reduced the loo line up considerably.

At this point, I put down my pen and enjoyed the music. I remember wandering around the stalls once more and getting a beanie, I ate heaps, drank lots of coffee, and talked to some people.

I made my way into the main tent, and wandered up toward the front. It was really crowded in there, but at least it was warm.
The Finn brothers were totally awesome. They played so many songs that I know, and some Split Enz stuff as well. Their version of Hunters "Throw your arms" was really good too. I love that song though.

Waited around for Moby, and I was not disappointed. His stage show was brilliant, and the music, even though I couldn't tell you the name of one song, was fabulous.

I had a great time at Splendour in the Grass, and I will go again next year, if it's on. In fact, I might take the time out to go to the Byron Bay Blues festival if they bother to put it on again.