This weekend was a big one. Saturday was spent dealing with hellspawn and their parents at a face painting gig. I got hired by a local shopping centre to help promote a little event they were hosting – some kind of card swap event. It ended up being a massive free-for-all with parents literally wrestling children for silly animal cards, to the point where both the parents and kids were jumping, climbing and wrestling their way across my table. If I could have gotten away with mauling someone, even Odin’s left testicle couldn’t have saved the victim.

There is nothing quite like the slow-boil rage of a 24-year old who’s had her medication switched, hates people and who’s painkillers aren’t working when she’s shoved into a corner and told to deal with the noisy, ill-trained parasites from vaginas she’s not familiar with.

English: inflatable blow up doll (sex doll) Deutsch: aufblasbare Gummipuppe (Sexpuppe) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The worst bit had to be the self-entitled parents who decided that my painting table was there purely for them to put their crap on while they crowdsurfed the throng of 8-year-olds fighting over the card for a common ringtailed possum. I’d like to point out that the cards aren’t even worth anything. They’re some promo nonsense started by the store to attract more customers. I suppose they worked.

Yesterday was the first Sunday of the month. As per usual, I was at the markets and trying to sell my wares. The mountains are a lovely place, but it would be so much better if I wasn’t godforsakenly cold. The night before was one of those horrid nights where I was in too much pain to sleep, and the more exhausted I was, the more my body complained by putting me in pain. It makes perfect sense. If I could move, I would have raged hard enough to destroy my bucket entirely last night. Unfortunately, I kind of just lay there like a sex doll for those on the stranger end of the fetish spectrum and resisted the urge to bite my partner every time I had a pain spike. I like to think that I did fairly well, all things considered.

Point is, I went to the market. After being in pain for over 24 hours straight and hot having slept, it took all my self control and stubborn streak to kick my own butt into sucking it up the get to the mountains. Fortunately I had played a game of tetris earlier and had managed to condense an entire two-table stall into two boxes, the tables, two chairs and a box for lunch. For a chronically messy organiser, this is a gold star achievement.I set up with manthing’s help (which is impressive in itself) and spent the time from 7am to 2pm trying to keep myself warm. I was wearing two jumpers, a shirt, stockings and the warmest track pants I had and I was still sitting there shivering. All the locals looked at me like I was some kind of amusement and all the children stared because of my purple hair. I felt quite the spectacle. I got through the day on adrenaline and the hope that I’d walk away with some money in my pockets. Unfortunately, I only ended up selling three items on the day – a leather cuff, a framed picture and a hand made card – and it covered my market stall costs, but not petrol or anything else. At least it was better than last month where I didn’t sell a thing.

On the upside, I did learn a very valuable lesson. If you take painkillers and have a sensitivity to them and then have an energy drink before driving home to keep you away, you WILL be sick. No maybe. No ‘there’s a chance’. You will feel like woofing your cookies. Paying homage to the porcelain god. Having a lumpy chuckle. You WILL want to puke. In hindsight, it is rather entertaining. I imagined I looked like quite a sight on the way home. Once we pulled into the driveway, I almost ran from the car to dive headlong into bed. Yup, poor manthing got stuck with unloading the car, but I was in no state to do anything more than play roadkill. I’m sure I even had the smell right at that point.

On the way home I also found out that my best friend/sister/adopted family had finally managed to babycannon a little Miss out of her cooter. I’ve seen some pretty damn adorable things in my life, but this sproglet just takes the cake. She has her mum’s nose and is cuter than a pink dumptruck filled with kittens and ducklings being driven by a Jack Russel in a sailor’s outfit. I can’t wait to finally meet the little bugger that punched and kicked me every other time I rubbed mum’s belly 😀

I forgot what else I was going to type. As you may have noticed, I’m rather… out of it. My body isn’t playing ball with the drop in medication and I have no real choice about it all, so the universe can suck my proverbial right now. I’m going to sod off and go play with some leather.

To end this journal, I figure I’ll share something that’s highly entertaining right now. Even better, because it’s about tea.

Enjoy!