Sometimes I feel like dropping an anvil on my boyfriend's younger brother, like bloody Coyote.

What an answer to a prayer!

I read my Aunty Di's real niece's book that she wrote on the struggles she's gone through in her life, some quite similar to mine, and I emailed her after Aunty Di told me to contact her about my own story. Well, Sharon just emailed me back, and has offered to be my writing coach! So I'd best get typing, as previously I'd been hand-writing. I'd actually prayed yesterday that if God could use Sharon to help me with the destiny He's given me, then please let me hear from her in 24 hours. Prayer answered, times 100!

Yesterday I drove up to Redcliffe (my hometown) to meet up with my friend Shira for a coffee, as she goes back to Sydney on Wednesday-week.

We figure it's been about 2 years since we've seen each other, so we crammed a lot into the hour or so we spent together, and at the end of the day decided we'd spend a few hours togetther again today (I'm driving back up at 11:30am, then I'm seeing Aunty Karen at 3pm to talk out everything I'm dealing with at the moment). It was even more enjoyable catching up with Shira than I could've imagined, although I was looking forwarf to seeing her beautiful face on the drive up.

Shira and I met when I was first with Penny and Paul - the DJs that I worked for, who convinced me in their "loving" way that my drinking was getting sloppy, and I took my very first quarter of ecstacy and and my very first paper-bomb of speed before work, I'd feel better and be more alert, and they'd keep an eye on me to make sure I was fine - I was just 19. Shira, not having known the drug situation that was going on when she first came into our scene, was only 16 years old. In time, she knew what was going on, but thank God she never got involved the way I did. I was 19... wow, 5 years have gone by fast. Shira was snapped up by P & P because she is an AMAZINGLY TALENTED SINGER. Seriously, she has the greatest voice, and control of it, that I have ever heard, and I'm not being biased because she's my girl.

I recognised her walking down the street towards Ebony & Ivory (where we'd agreed to meet after having reconnected through facebook), but I questioned whether I was right in my judgement, as the blonde ahead of me had long blonde hair, but not as long as is charactaristically Shira; the young woman was curvacious like Shira, but slimmer than I knew Shira to be when I'd seen her last. The young woman with the shorter-than-Shira's hair and the smaller-than-Shira's curves had stopped outside Ebony & Ivory, and as she turned around I realised that it was, in fact, my Shira! I threw my arms up in the air as a big "hello!" in my usual fashion, and as we walked to meet each other halfway, I called sherrily, "Heeyyyyyyy baby!", and we threw our arms out to each other to meet in a strong, warm, long overdue embrace. It felt truly, truly good! I told her that she smelt good, and commented, "I probably smell of cigarettes!", but she told me I actually smelt nice, to my surprise and delight. She exclaimed, surprised, "You smoke now!" and then suggested we light one up after ordering coffee - a chai latte for me, a "soy-cap" for Shira (which she sneakily paid for when I was on a phone call later!).

We sat down on the wooden bench by the street, next to Eb, for a smoke as our coffees were being made. We didn't know where to start at first, but the conversation picked up before I knew it, which is funny, seeing as how we weren't close at all when we were first "lumped" together! We reflected on this, as I told her the only reason I was so cold to begin with was due to pure green-eyed jealousy! She laughed at this, in disbelief, but I carried on with why - "I'd been the only girl, then you came on the scene all of a sudden, and you had SO MUCH more of an amazing voice than me!". She grabbed my hand in a loving way and said, "Not more talented, talented in different ways". I said it'd been silly, but look where we've ended up! I reminded her of how I'd kept putting up my wall to her, not allowing her in, and she'd never given up (which isn't like her, she's like me - if you don't bother with her she won't bother with you!), eventually managing to break it down completely. We hugged again, stubbing out our smokes and heading for the table outside Eb where our coffees waited for us.

I filled her in on my drug overdose of 2 and a bit years ago, as she'd been in Sydney at the time, and we've barely caught up since. Shira asked exactly what happened, so I filled her in on that fateful St Patrick's Dat weekend from the beginning, through what I'd taken, through the hallucinations, through the unyielding pain my heart was giving me (palpitations and nearly stopping altogether), through the erratic thoughts, through the night, through Dani counselling me to tell Aunty Karen, through telling Mum. She cried a little throughout the retelling, feeling the pain I'd gone through even though I don't get that choked up about it anymore, and feeling sympathy... somehow that led me into telling her the fresh details I'd recently found out about what my father did to me. I haven't even found the strength to tell Kyle the details, so somehow God must've pushed me to tell Shira, as her reaction really moved and empassioned me. She already knew all the details I had previously known, as after building a strong friendship over the years, I'd already told her in past deep and meaningfuls. I dind't cry, which surprised me, but Shira did, and it was heartfelt and soft.

Shira told me she was so sorry to know that such things had happened to me, and said she was lost for words as to what she could possibly say to me... but she said exactly what my heart needed to be reminded of, "You should write a book". It wasn't said flippantly, it was firm. She said, "You've always felt as a loss for directions, this is the direction God is giving you, this is the direction God has for you!" - what a confirmation! I started writing my story about 5 weeks ago, and this has inspired me to get back into it with a fierce passion. Shira said my story can help many other young women who have been through sexual abuse, child abuse, and / or drug abuse.

Shira's been doing quite well for herself, having built up her career to become area manager of 8 or 9 stores in NSW (for a retail company), what a responsibility! But Shira is a go-getter, so I'm not surprised. She still had music in her heart these past 2 years, but somehow she'd put her major focus on her career, to make her father happy... now she's awoken to the path God has prepared for her, and had always had planned for her I suspect. Shira was meant to be a singer. I mean, MEANT - TO - BE! She said she'd done so well but she realised she didin't CARE about that career in the manner she cares about her music. She had some time off (which is why she's up here) - mostly due to recurring gladular fever - and has realligned her priorities. Shira's eyes literally lit up when she talked about her plans for her music career. She's already got the ball rolling, having uploaded a single onto reverbnation, and she's hoping to build a fan base over the next couple of years. She'll make it. I know her. She's a winner that girl.

What a wonderful Monday it turned out to be! x

B.

It's a hot Summer night, with cicadas chirping outside, and my 9 week old kitten Bam is too hot to play, so he's sitting on the dining table swiping at some pink tissues I gave him.

It's been a tough year for most people that I know. I spoke to one of my Aunties today and she sounded tired, but busy, wiping her eyes as she answered my call, because she'd been peeling onions for lunch's meat balls. She was upbeat in her tone, and I could hear her clanging and banging and carrying on with cooking. I asked about her family, her concerns, and the main point that came through to me, which she said, is, "it's been a tough year".

I then got a facebook message from my cousin in LA, telling me to call her Mum immediately because she'd fallen down the stairs! So I visited my other Aunty this afternoon after I knew she'd already been to the hospital, and there she was - laying on the bed with the fan on, still not quite whisping away the humidity that hung inside and outside, her left wrist bandaged and her right middle toes broken! Silly duck didn't turn the light on when she got up in the night, and she went to go to bed through the wrong door, the stairway door next to the bedroom door! Shit eh? She's ok though. She's had a tough year.

My Mum is moving back to her own house again in 2 weeks, she'd rented it out whilst trying on a new boyfriend, but it didn't work out as she'd hoped, so she's moving back to what I like to call Miss Independence House! I'll probably go back with her, keep her company for a few weeks until My Love and I move to the south side, when the house is finished being renovated for us. Mum'll enjoy having me there, not having an empty home, feeling she's got someone to talk to and lean on, and vice versa. She's had a tough year.

I was asking the other day if I could come and stay for a few nights and my grandparents' house, where Mum is staying right now, and all I could hear was my Grandmother in the background saying firmly, over and over, "No! No, no, no." Well that was nice. But I can understand, she's been diagnosed with Alzheimers but refuses to believe that, and won't take medication to slow its onset. Being the matriarch of the family and taking on the woes of the world, or at least our family, it must be taking its toll. She's had a tough year.

I spoke to my cousin the other night... she tried to break it to me that her breast cancer has gotten worse, despite the stronger chemo the doctors put her on, so now she's gone back to the other chemo, the first one. The lump in her lymph node is a lot bigger now. Her Mum's got the kids, so she can have some time with her hubby on their own. It must be hard waking up every day knowing you're fighting for your life and it's not in your hands, only God could heal you. I admire her strength and the grip she's still got on her sense of humour. She's had a very, very tough year.

I might call her Mum tonight, after the storm has passed, and see how she's going, and the kids. They've all had a tough year.



I don't know if I feel like delving into why it's been a tough year for me. And the storm may save me from doing so for tonight. But it's a hot Summer night and and soon it'll be the closing of a tough year.

B.