Well it's been about 3 days since she took off, so I imagine she's landed in NZ by now.

Don't hold out much hope on regular updates though, the concept of charbs using an internet cafe is slightly disturbing. This, after all, is someone who kicks her network cable out at least once a night :)

Anyway, I've been told I'm a dead person if I reveal her little secret, but seeing as I figured it out from her posts on here I'm guessing it's not that hard. Read her posts in December and then imagine what's the worst thing she could've done by xmas?

Yup, she did. :)

Beta? Beta? What the fucks a beta?

You better take good care of my blog, or you'll be for it when I come back home!

Welshy took me out for a "surprise" last night, to celebrate my leaving and he took me here!
A bar made of ice!!!
How cool is cool? The walls, the bar, the seats, the glasses our vodka cocktails came in were all made of ice and as you can see, we got to sport funky and snuggily warm silver ponchos!
Tomorrow I fly off at some godforsaken time in the morning!
Be good all (especially YOU Blogsitter!)

Blogsitter here! I've had to create a new account seeing as Charbs isn't using beta yet *rolls eyes*

Now, what happened before christmas was.....

*spots charbs*

*runs*

Not long to go now!
I picked up my foreign money! Its got see-through bits on it and birdies!
I had my last ever shift in the Health Food Shop that Must Not Be named!
It was quite sad really, that shop gave me back my sanity and as sad as it was, I liked going in there everyday to remonstrate with awkward fuckwit customers, laugh with the regulars and torment the Morning Girl and of course the money was handy as well!
So! Unemployment (again!) here we come!

So its time for the results of Blog Idol!

And its been a close, close thing!
But here we go!


* dramatic drumroll*

in 3rd place is Cody.


*dramatic pause*




We have a problem... in first place is a tie.

Between Flash and Red Squirrel.

So I'm gonna have to make an exectutive decision. And I'm gonna have to base it on recent blogging, and Red Squirrel has blogged far more that Flashy in recent weeks.
...
...
...

So, the winner of Blog Idol '07 and my new blog-sitter is Red Squirrel!
* cue tickertape falling, and "Simply the Best" playing.

And keep my secret safe bitch!

I was in Derby at the weekend!
It was fantastic, the first time since I left (2 years ago now!!!) that all three of us had been together!
We've all seen each other, well Summer 05 was the last time I saw CL, (i should link to these events, but we all know im lazy!) and Just about this time last year was the last time MH saw her.
So it was great for us all to be under the one roof and we took ourselves on a reunion tour of our best parts of Derby, no trip to Our Beloved Friary though!
We saw our house and crept up to it in the dark and took pictures outside it and then vowed to go back in the day time and ask who ever lived there if we could go in - and then it turned out when we got there in the day time that it was empty! Our poor house! Alone and unloved!
And we went to Asda at midnight like we used to do and raced our trollies about and pressed the little moo-ing cow!
And we met Bump again (eyes getting better!) and laughed and it was like old times, forgetting the bitching, the coldness of our house, how stressed we all were and having a giggle!
And we met the lads, and discussed CL's upcoming marriage to UDOBF and her possible plans to move back to Derby and my travelling and how I'd move back to Derby, if the right job came up.
Great times, and I can't believe its been so long and yet hardly any time at all!

I made a new friend today!
He was really tame, if a little cheeky and sat on me for ages, hunting out the brazil nuts me and Welshy had taken to Greenwich Park to feed the squirrels (who all seemed in hiding)
I even turned it upside down to see what it'd do and he just sat there all trusting like.
Dead cute, I wanted to take it home, but decided against it.
One more chance for voting.... Red Squirrel is in the lead!

"Hi Charby

Just confirming your booking on 31 January at 3.30pm for two people.

Your credit card will not be charged at this point, we use the details to secure the booking. We will charge you when you arrive for your jump.

Looking forward to "chucking" you off the tower!!"

Oh God, I'm suddenly not sure I wanna spend my first day in NZ falling from a 630ft tall tower!

(dont forget to vote on the post below!)

So we had three entries in Blog Idol and here they are.
Judge them on the comments left, not on your personal favourite.

Red Squirrel left us with this tempting teaser...
Vote for me and once she's gone I can tell you all about the bad thing she did before christmas! :)

Although if he does, I will castrate him so the choice is his...

Cody gave us this intreging idea...

Pick me, because you have no idea who I am, or what I would do. 20 words or less.

I debated long and hard about whether to add Flashy cos he went well over the rules of the game but his excellent essay goes as follows.

Alright everybody, don't panic! I have returned to take on the challenge of being the charby-blog-sitter. Even though I didn't get an end of year mention.Logically, I would be a fine choice. I have previously handed over the keys of my blog to young Charbs, I can keep up to date with the whole football side of things & on the day you go I will turn 37 & obviously become mature & responsible enough to take on such a serious charge.C'est voila!

So those are the options, now you have till WEDNESDAY to pick a winner and you're not allowed to vote for yourself, you three! You'd have to vote for another participant!

Ok... Go!

Last night was my last ever day at the aquarium! Well depending on what happens when I get home from NZ.
If I end up unemployed or part time working again, then I'll carry on volunteering, if i come back and fall into a full time place then I'll never be there again!
It was really sad, I got a bit choked up at times, and then they all presented me with a card and present! A book about Sharks of the world! I love sharks so I was really over the moon with it, especially cos I thought they'd not bother doing anything for me!
And today was the last football match I'll attend until the 17th of March! And the bastards couldnt even win for me! Doomed I tells ya! doomed!
Tomorrow as well as being the last day at the Blackheath Shop also sees the start of voting for My Blog Sitter, you will have to choose between Red Squirrel, Cody Bones and Flash!
So choose wisely!

Well... guess it was kinda inevitable

Fucking hell!
Sometimes I think I have walked under a ladder or something!
Lets see, already this week we've had Dad's anniversary, his birthday yesterday and also, yesterday I discovered THIS, about a guy I knew up in Derby called Chris.
And today my Granddad decided to intervene in a fight where a gang of schoolkids were beating up another little kid and got a kicking for his troubles!
Honestly! I'd like a nice calm boring week for once!

I meant to post this yesterday.
I never really understood the "I think about someone everyday" or the "I miss them so much it hurts" before, but it is true and I miss and think about him desperately.
I felt sick all day thinking about and counting down till the official time of death (3.23) but luckily B&B from Stockport came down so I didnt have to clockwatch.

And I was going to tell you all about the day itself.

I was going to work that day, in the morning, do 5 hours, and pick E up and take her to the hospice, so she could say her goodbyes.
Apparently the Hospice had rang at some point during the night, to tell Mum that he'd had a rough night, and just as we were about to step out the house at 8am they rang again.
"We should get down there." They said. "This could be the beginning of the end."
She ran upstairs to wake The Brat and we drove to the Hospice, parking carelessly.
His breathing was harsh and rough again, gurgling.
Mum rang I's partner G to come down, sit with us.
He woke and he couldnt talk, there was mucus or something blocking his throat.
We put films on, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and Shrek, and The Brat slept, and we waited.
They gave him an injection to try and help him, and I asked him if it made it easier and he shook his head.
I remember... I remember him saying all the time, towards the end that he was scared. The day before... "I'm scared, but this isn't going to beat me, I'm still fighting it."
And thats what sticks the most that day. I tried to talk to him, normally, but I didnt know what to say, you couldnt tell if he was sane or whether he'd gone into one of his hallucinations.
I hope to god he was insane.
The thought of him being scared, and sane and not having any way to express that is one that haunts me.
And... all through this, ever since he was diagnosed as terminally ill, I knew in my heart, I didnt want to be there for the end. I'd do anything else, everything else I could, but I COULD not watch my Dad's last moments on Earth. Could not be there for the last breath he drew.
but I also knew, that if they needed me there, I would be there.
So we waited, and sometimes he slept, peacefully and sometimes he was awake.
And I was texting E to say not to come up to the Hospice, that this was the last thing Dad had wanted, for people to see him like this, I tried to shield her from it, I hardly let her in the house when he was going crazy.
And The Brat drove me home to get changed out of my work uniform, and he decided to go into work.
I dont know why. I suppose, we'd been told it could last for hours this bit.
So he drove me back to the Hospice and I got out the car and he left again.
And G caught me and took me into the day room bit. The Cunting Builder was supposed to be bring the Pastor guy up, that we'd met before, the one we wanted to take the service.
And they were in the room with Mum and Dad and I couldnt stand the thought of listening to anything "Churchy"
So we waited in the day room.
And then the Cunting Builder and the Pastor came, and I'll tell you now, what happened, the way it was, the way My Mum described it to me.
"We were talking and I noticed that he was asleep and the sleep aponea was kicking in again.
So I asked them to go get Eddie (his special nurse) and I knew he was going, and everytime he was stopping I spoke to him. "Come on Graham, keep breathing" and the gaps between got bigger and bigger and I said "Its ok Graham, go to sleep now." And he died then.
Eddie came and confirmed it and I asked them to go get you"
And I walked down the corridor, feeling sick, not wanting to see him die, not knowing yet, but feeling this was what all those months and the year had all been about. This, my proper challenge, to look after them all and not wanting to go into that room.
And I came into the room and I sat in her lap and I stroked his hair, and there was a sigh. I think it was the gas leaving his body, or something.
And I asked her, how we knew when.. when it happened?"
And she looked at me and then at G and told me that it had just happened and asked her to get The Brat, but not tell him.
And I was glad, so glad that I almost felt sick with it, glad that I had been spared the final part. And bad that I was so glad.
And the Cunting Builder came in with the Pastor, who asked if we wanted to hear something from the Bible, I dont know what he said, something about being glad that he had lived.
And I looked at the clock and out the window, there was a magpie, I remember thinking "one for sorrow"
We sat there with him for the twenty minutes that it took for The Brat to come back.
And he flung himself into a chair, and said what I had just said. "When will it be?"
Mum told him, and He leapt up, sobbing, threw his arms around Dad and ran from the room.
Eddie returned and asked if we were ok and ready to fill in the forms.
He led us into a room and told us all the stuff we needed to know, gave us advice about services, about how to register a body.
That he'd wash him and move him into the Chapel of Rest and we could go see him there any time if we wanted.
We never did.
I think his Mum did though.
And my Mum wept a little and I sat there dry-eyed and unable to grasp it, sometimes I think I'm still unable to grasp that I'll never see my Dad again.
I miss him so much. I wish he was here whole and well and laughing with me about our poor football season, and helping me with the birds or playfighting with me.

Its funny the things you remember.
I remember everything about the day before and the day he got put into the hospice and I remember the day he died and I remember the funeral, but everything inbetween those days is kinda blurred.
I tried to write them down once. I didn't, couldnt bear the thought of forgetting everything that happened. But I couldnt.
Not because it made me sad, because it did, but I couldnt quite place the right days and right incidents together.
But I remember the day he went into the hospice. Today. One year ago.
I remember the night before I had to sleep in their room, cos he was frightened and Mum was frightened, needed me there to help her. To reassure him, from the Terminal Terrors.
I remember going to work today, then, absolutely exhausted with no sleep and going to bed very early.
And then I remember the phonecall. Our house, now having 3 floors has those groovy phone things where you can call to the next floor.
"come up here a minute" Mum said. "Listen to Dad"
And I listened to him sleep, sleeping like a dog does, with his eyes partially open.
And I heard the noise, the gargling and rattling in his chest. The Lung had finally collapsed with the pressure of the Tumour inside it.
I looked at him, and looked at her and shook my head.
"It dont sound good."
She agreed with me. " I asked J and T (her best mates) to come round. Her kids had a lot of chest infections, maybe she'll know what it is"
So we waited and we rang the local doctors and I helped Mum prop him up a bit.
J and T came round. And I marvelled and was insanely jealous that the Brat can sleep through all this, cos thats all I wanted. I wanted to be asleep and not listen to my Dad dying.
The Doctor came and I sat in the room with Mum while he examined Dad and J and T had fags and tea downstairs.
He listened to Dad for a bit and tried to talk to him, Dad was barely coherant.
He came out with it bluntly. I dont suppose there is no other way.
"He's dying. It may be six days from now, it may be 6 hours, but you need to prepare for the worst."
We got Dad up, He breathed easier then, and we took him downstairs to sit up T had to carry/Bump him down and Dad complained. His skin was so stretched, so thin that almost all contact hurt him.
And it was nearly 4am and I was falling asleep on the sofa and I didnt wanna go to sleep, was frightened of waking up again and being told he had died but Mum forced me, she virtually dragged me up the stairs, promising to get me up when Dad's special Nurse, the one trained to deal in terminal cases came again at 7, but I didnt wake up.
I woke and it was 9 and he had came and gone and arranged a room in the hospice, The Brat had woken, and cried downstairs and there was people in my house. My Dad's so-called Best Mate. The man he'd known since he was 7 years old, the one who promised Dad over and over to look after us, who stood on the funeral podium and promised again. The one who has never spoken to us since. He was there and my Aunty G.
And Dad was sometimes sane, sometimes not.
Mum had made a sign, cos he didnt know where he was. Telling him he was in the living room with her.
"Where am I (insert her real name) I'm so.." And he'd struggle to find the right word and eventually found it again, we'd played a few nights ago, the kiddies board game Frustration and that was the word he used.
"I''m so Frustration."
So she made the sign and he glanced at it every now and then and remembered where he was and it made him happy.
I sat downstairs, not knowing what to do, what to say, glad I wasnt in work.
I remember him looking at me and trying to place me and I smiled and he remembered me and relaxed.
And then his mate went outside for a fag, he was on the verge of tears, struggling to hold it together.
And Dad had developed this strange way of talking, it didnt sound like him, I dont know if the cancer got into his vocal cords or what. Almost Childish.
"Big G, Big G!" See Dads mate was named after his Dad, and his son is named after him too. Big G, Middle G and Little G. Always.
And he got confused about which one and called the wrong one and Dads mate came running, wiping away the tears.
And then the Amublance came and Dad told them off, telling him that they were due at 7, confused between this and the nurse.
They told him that they had to stop for breakfast first and he told me to make them Toast.
So he rode to the hospice in style and we followed.
And we got him settled and he played in one of those LazyBoy chair things. And we called his Brother to come round and his Mum, again more people that we've not heard from since the funeral, although in their case its not entirely surprising.
And his Brother came, and Dad was in and out of sanity and looked and recognised him and He left, ran out the room crying and I dont remember where my Mum and Brat were. Maybe the Brat was in the room with me and Mum talking to the doctors.
Eddie. Eddie was my Dads own special nurse in there, a lovely kind man.
So I looked at My Nan and asked if she was ok and she nodded and I left her with Dad and The Brat and went to take care of My Uncle, who was crying and chain-smoking and all sorts and I felt like crying but I had to take care of him.
And My Bro went to work cos he couldnt face being there and I stayed the whole day and we ate KFC and people came round. My Aunty G was staying the night, to give Mum a real nights sleep and we lived at the hospice, and everyone who needed to see Dad came and got to see them and I'm glad of that.
And I remember the day they called us in as well, but perhaps thats a story for tomorrow, or Saturday.
I dont know, I know i miss him intensely though.