Turning Lamebos Into Rainbows

Rambling Goat and Nonsense Unicorn present… The Awesome Person's Guide to Life


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Moving and skating and graduation, oh my

Well life has been one cluster fuck over the past few months. Let me regail you on a bit of a breakdown of what’s being going on in unicorn town:

  • So boy and I were pretty much on hiatus for like 3 weeks or something, during that time I ran away and lived with my parents.  After this time we both had long hard looks at our relationship and life and all that, and decided that although we have a lot to work on its worth fighting for. So we decided to give it another go.
  • Nek minnit we have put our notice in at our place and are moving into a one bedder! Roommate was a child about it and we haven’t seen him since. Meh.
  • Handed in my last essay and completed my last exam – given that I pass it all, I know officially have completed another qualification. Let’s add Graduate Diploma in Psychological Sciences to the end of my name with the rest of the qualifications I have and do absolutely fuck all with. Now to decide whether to give honours a go, the post grad diploma before masters, or just give up and resign to the fact that I’m too dumb to ever be a legit psychologist so I should probs just shut up and keep working admin and maybe pop out a spawn soon or something.

  • I’m totally doing a fresh meat course for roller derby. I’m not the worse in the pack, but my confidence is definitely not there to believe that I will get through it to actually make it onto the team one day. But skating is fun, and it’s a lesson for me to try to keep persisting and not let my lack of confidence get the better of me.


And add work being a big shit ball of busyness and annoying people, that’s my life right about now. Just so you know. Not that it’s very exciting or anything, but you know, sometimes writing about this crap helps validate existence. That or I’m just procrastinating at work. Eh.
NU

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Roommates: fucks sake not again

Shit hit the fan last night at around 12:40am on a work night.  You’d think that I would have learnt my lesson from the last time that roommates just don’t work in my home. I’m just not made for cohabitation, especially not with gronks anyway.

Back story: for the past four months or so one of Boy’s friends, let’s call him Gronk,  has been living with us. First it started to help him out with a break up, but it’s somehow turned into a seemingly more permanent arrangement...

So last night Boy and Gronk go to the pub for what was meant to be just a couple of drinks, and then turned into late night karaoke. It was organised that they would bring back dinner at 8:30 once I finished my uni class, but I get a text saying they’re going to stay out (even though Boy starts work at 630am and struggles more than me with mornings).

So already I’m hangry from that and decide to go to bed. Strike one.

After a few hours of not being able to sleep, at 12:40am I hear the front door open and hear four voices. What the? The noise then proceeds to our courtyard and I can hear bogan banter, beers and bad singing.


Urge to kill rising.

I go downstairs and the straw on my back snaps. Some old dero bogan man and beanie wearing cunt nugget bitch are sitting on the rabbit cage with beers with Boy and our room mate. At 12:40am on a work night. Oh hell no.

“What the fuck is this? Yeah no this is not happening, get the fuck out of my house”.

Cunt nugget bitch pipes up, “uh no, that’s for him (points to Gronk roommate) to decide”. Gronk roommate who is a guest in our house, has the final say in whether it’s cool that our place turns into a late night party haven and public menac to our neighbours.


Now let me point out that it has been explicitly discussed my expectations and needs for our place. I don’t care if you go out, you don’t bring it back to the house. It’s important for home to be a sanctuary for my mental health. 

By instead they bring strangers into the home that I have built with Boy for years, and somehow turn me into a stranger in my own fuckng house.

I cracked it at Boy. I told him I’m fucking done with this kind of bullshit and I’m leaving. I told him have fun being single with his fuckface Gronk friend. I’m going to my parents house.

He was drunk, rambled about how yeah he fucked up once and I’m a psycho. I told him it’s not this once, too many times similar to this over months and years and this is the straw that broke the camels back.

He doesn’t have my back. He can’t put himself into my shoes. It’s just about what he wants to do and have fun, and I always have to just suck it up and deal with what he wants, otherwise I’m the bitch.

I left and went to my parents house.

I guess we are broken up now. I’m not talking to him today as I’m still angry and upset. I can’t go back right now to get stuff either as I will probably smash Gronk roommates guitar in his face.

I guess this is the end.

Nonsense unicorn


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Loves of my Life

I reckon we experience a lot of different loves in our lifetimes, as we fumble through on the eternal search for that one sparkly human that lights up your world.

I thought I would share a couple of the stories of the loves I have experienced in my 29 years of being.

The Star Crossed Love

I was 16 years old (cue Benny Mardones here) and on a family holiday overseas to the mother land to meet family. Days spent hanging out on a farm, one of my cousins mates was interested in me and a love bloomed.


It was kinda disgusting how text book it was – it first started when he asked me to go to a town dance where we waltzed together and later kissed under the moonlight.

Followed by 6 weeks of moonlight picnics and day trips to town eating 6 ice creams just to prolong the time we were spending together.

He spoke broken English and my understanding of the language was crappy, but somehow we connected and made it work.

Unfortunately due to the problem of me living a million miles away, we were torn apart at the end of the holiday, looking out the back window in tears as I saw the love of my life slowly fade in to the distance. We wrote love letters for a while but that slowly faded away.

My parents went over there not long ago. He is married with a kid now, but apparently when he gets drunk he still talks about me. 

The First Real Boyfriend

The cherry was my first real relationship. You know, proper dating and waiting a month to screw.

It lasted about 2.5 years but probably 1.5 years too long. I was in love, but I guess it was one of those things where you are more in love with being in a relationship than actually having a real deep connection.

I was hurt when it ended, but in retrospect it was more of an ego bruising than heartbreak.

The One that got away


I was so in love with the Watermelon for a very long time. Read the hyperlink for the whole story, but he was always that guy that (maybe I totally imagined it) like there was some kind of magnet there, but for some reason just never went anywhere. It was never meant to be, but I pined for so long.

We hooked up twice (no sex) which still stand as some of the sexiest moments I’ve had, as well as some of the most romantic (Nights in White Satin will always remind me of him).

I stepped away from our friendship to distance myself, and now he’s on his way to becoming a priest, so that probably says a lot about the situation.

Although I’ve been over it for a very long time, I still can’t help but wonder if there was anything there for him too. I guess I will never know.

The Lie


I spent a good three years of my life begging a fool to love me. It was through this experience that I actually learnt what real love is and that the right person will go the hard yards with you and that you are worth it.

Dumb mother fucker professed his love for me when I stopped seeing him when I met the Boy. Too little too late doy.

The Real Deal


And that brings me to The Boy today. Almost five years of up and down, and heck who knows if this is a forever deal, but at least I know that we have gone through a lot of waves and still something keeps us connected.

We have respect for each other, we get each other, we fight for each other. That’s pretty sweet for now.
And there’s the loves of my life. What’s yours?

Nonsense unicorn 


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A Unicorn’s Guide to Dating

For some reason my reader on WordPress is full of hapless tales of dating by men and women.  Totally not a problem, although there seems to be quite a pattern of “rules and regulations” you are apparently meant to follow in the dating world which I think is quite ridiculous (and obviously not working for a lot of people).

So, as someone who has been in many a relationship (current one 4.5 years) and never actually been on a date myself – I think I’m totes the right authority here to give you all some advice on how to go about this dating bizzo!

So throw out all your The Game and He’s Just Not That Into You bibles and guides and check out my Unicorn Guide to Dating.

What to Wear

Spending hours standing outside your wardrobe trying to concieve the right outfit to wear on your date?  Do they like heels, is my skirt too short?  Should I wear a tshirt?  Well, here is a well hidden secret that fashion designers will hate you for…..wear whatever the damn hell YOU want.  That is all.  Wear a dang potato sack or onesie if that makes you comfortable.

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But NU, what if they judge me for my potato sack?

Tell them to swallow a rusty whisk and GTFO.  Do you want to be with someone who is going to fob you off for what you wear?  Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not, be you!  This coming from someone who has picked people up when dressed as a dog, transvestite and a onesie.

When you should call/ text/ email

There seems to be a strict formula out there, where you should divide the time you spent together on the date and multiply that by 543 then square root to the power of 4 to get the exact time and date of when you should contact them again.  Wrong by 4.34 of a decimal? BOOM they’re gonna hate you forever!

My homies, just message when you want to talk to them.  Next day, next week, whatever.  If someone is gonna be all “ermagherd he texted me like 32 hours after our date, what a needy beedy” then stuff them!

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Disclaimer:  just don’t be a total stalker messaging fifty billion times every second before they respond to you, that is a little much…

When should the P go into the V (or P into A, or V into V… whatevs)

My current boy pretty much is a one night stand that wouldn’t go away, and now we’re totally happy and crazy living together with fur babies and shenanigans.  Actually, pretty much all my relationships (bar one as a youngun 18 year old, we waited like 3 weeks…) have been clingy one night standers. Sooooo I reckon when your pringle gets the tingle then your privates gotta mingle!

 

If they think you’re a hoe or man-whore after that, then they’re not worth your time.  The right person will know you’re worth sticking around for!

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And I think that’s enough advice for now, or you all are gonna be getting married and loved up left right and centre!  Maybe more to come when I could be bothered – I am a unicorn after all and have pretty important sparkle parties to attend to.

 

Nonsense Unicorn


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I’m Not In Love

I’m not in love, so don’t forget it. It’s just a silly phase I’m going through…
-10cc

Sitting upstairs trying to listen to a disgusting statistics tutorial,  I hear my  bellowing and heavily depressed boyfriend downstairs on the phone crying to his mother:

“I love her but I’m not in love with her”.

My heart sinks.  The computer screen seems to zoom out and blur as my chest begins to contort rapidly against invisible ropes, a swelling lump of dread scratching the back of my tongue and choking me.  Woah, for a perpetually numb and stone walled individual this feeling is intense.  Too bad it’s full of the usual melancholic stress and demise.

We have been having our problems lately, and we’re both aware of that.  He is fucking depressed and crippled with anxiety, and I’m so pro at depression I’m like a walking ghost that no one knows the wiser is merely an empty shell.  We’re like two blind frogs trying to stay on the same lily pad together.  We have discussed this, we know life is shit yadda yadda, but we also decided that we love each other too much and it’s worth fighting for and all that crap.

And then I hear this.

The typical girl inside me wrote a note on a post it, took it down to him and gave it to him, storming back up to the study to pretend like I was learning about numbers and shit.

I can hear everything.

His phone call ends and, crying, he follows me up.  Oblivious and in a stupor to what he could have possibly said.  I couldn’t tell if it was denial and an awww shiiit how do I cover this or actual cluelessness.

“What did I say? I was talking to my mum,” he wails.

“Oh, that you love me but you’re not in love with me.  Fine. Make a fool of me.  I’m done”.  The ropes constricting my frail rib cage even more.

“What?! I said I love you!  Mum said that being in love with someone is the honeymoon when you first meet and then things change.  That’s what – we aren’t in the honeymoon period anymore.”

Hoooooooold up a minute.  My head is going whack.  My concepts and contexts of what is love are getting all muddled up.

Yeah I know relationships change, the honeymoon period ends, things turn into a roller coaster, but I always thought it was the being IN love with someone that made it worth all while.

Does being in love just constitute that honeymoon period?

Aren’t  you meant to be in love the whole time?  Or is it just a temporary destination?

If you fall out of the honeymoon phase, have you fallen out of love?

Because, to me, I love many a thing.

I love my parents.

I love my friends.

I love my pets.

I love schnitzel.

I love lamp.

But it is that special, heart burning up love that tethers me to this fool.

If he is not in love with me, then what is this?  Cos if I get a schnitzel I don’t like then I just don’t eat it – I ain’t gonna take the time to make a gravy to make it taste better.  I’ll just get a new schnitzel.

He doesn’t get why I am distressed and upset at this.  Am I missing something here?

Does “romantic love” exist not being “in” love?

ANSWER ME PEOPLE.  WHAT MANNER OF DOUCHEBAGGERY IS THIS?!?!

nonsense unicorn


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Couples Counselling

I used to think couples counselling was lame and futile. Like a sign that you’re just prolonging the inevitable break up. I used to think that if I ever got to that point in a relationship that it’s time to go Hans Solo. You’re done. Quit trying to fool yourself and let go.

  
But I guess that was before I found someone that is truly worth fighting for. Someone worth making that extra effort and rather than butt heads like stubborn Rams and throw my hands up in the air, I am willing to do something drastic to invest in my relationship.

Invest in my relationship to make it better.

Because a relationship, like anything in our lives, takes work and time and effort. We easily put additional effort into our careers, friendships, qualifications, and even ourselves by going to therapy or massages or even reading a book. Like any of these aspects in our lives, relationships deserve an investment too.

Some like to think that if there’s love then it will all just work out, and if it’s not working out than its not meant to be. Relationships don’t just happen. Okay maybe for some people they do, but if you’re having a few struggles with communication or something else then that’s okay – it is still okay to get outside help.

Because to me, a true relationship is two individuals making a bond with each other. And like any individual who thinks and sees things their own way, sometimes you are bound to clash with someone else – be it romantic partner, friend or parent.

Shit happens sometimes. Bad periods happen sometimes. It is life. And it is okay to get help.

Nonsense unicorn


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Uncomfortably Numb

Disclaimer:  There are no rainbows in this post, only dark and pendulous clouds of melancholic woe. Lamebo, right?

I have a secret to tell:  I am clinically depressed.  Not only that, but I am an inherent masochist to the slave that is depression that I have gone by untreated for so long and I have just become a festering glob of sadness and apathy, beyond the ability to cry or feel and just pitifully numb about my existence.  The emo teenager that resides within used to call this existence an “iron maiden” chained around my heart and soul.

  
The hows and whys of how I have become tainted with the dark slimes of woe are beyond me.  I guess sometimes it just happens.  I recall leaving my high school graduation to drive into the deep and dark bush alone to ponder the ending of my life, instead of celebrating with friends.  I got home and cried to mother that I was depressed, only met with the advice to “just be happy”.

Just be happy.

I don’t even know if I know what that means. I mean sure, I go out and do perceptually exciting things, travel, go on drunken adventures – many people would perceive me to be a happy individual.  But I fear all that is just a facade and I couldn’t really tell you the true warmth or feeling of the term.  As the great late Freddie said, I am the great pretender.

  

If it was socially and financially viable, I could probably remain locked up in a room alone for eternity and not really bat an eye lid or sigh.  I spend most of my evenings staring at the wall or just looking at the tv and not seeing anything but nothingness.

Comfortably numb.

And why I am writing this today, my dear rainbow chasers, is that the numbness that consumes me is oozing out of my pores and beginning to entangle those I love around me in my melancholic poopery.  And I am poisoning my relationship with boy.

But I guess the deterioration of our relationship is not all my fault – I’m not that good.  He is terribly crippled by a lovely concoction of anxiety and depression that has put it’s own strain on our relationship and turned me into more of a carer than a lover.   Which really couldn’t be helped when you are calling ambulances on numerous occasions or trying to get him out of bed after 32 hours of sleeping.  Digression.

Long story short, we have both had enough of being two blind lamebos bashing our heads against a wall with no intimacy or communication.  But, we love each other too much to walk away…..

Something’s got to give. I need to get the professional help to detach the horribly old and decrepit monkey Off of my back so I can start living with light, not in perpetual darkness. I want life to stop looking like a beat up black and white movie, waiting for it to start while the days wither away.

I have tried before. I’ve been on the meds that made my brain feel like it was suspended in deep fog. I’ve been to appointments where “psychologists” my age have smiled and nodded andreitterated how “bad that must make me feel” – yes I feel bad you dick, I need some help to stop this carousel of negativity in my mind. It’s so tiring. So I gave up for a while, just decided that perhaps if I pretend to be normal it will just go away – but all its done is make me more numb.

This Time I will try it for real – at least I will do it for the boy.

We also need to get some *shudder* couples counselling to get our communication open and functioning so we don’t lose each other.

My heart cries and says that our love is worth fighting for, that we can’t lose what we have as it is special, although it has been stained with the vice of mental illness and resentment.

But the emo within laments that it is already too late, that I was a fool to begin with to ever think I could sustain a relationship or be worthy of deep love…

And so it is. Will see how we go, and hope that hearts don’t get shredded on the way.
Nonsense unicorn