Melodic Memories

The kid was adorable, if I must admit. I call him a kid because he was a year and a half plus a day younger than I  and as teenagers that gap felt enormous. As if that whole extra year and a day really made a difference – I had dated Andre earlier in the year while he was 6 months younger than I… and that had seemed as though it was a stretch at the time… Funny how that point of view changes as you grow.

Regardless of his age, I looked down at him as he knelt on one knee with his guitar propped on the other knee – strumming out a tune he wanted to show me that he had learned recently. His blue-grey eyes were clear and sparkling in the dim lighting as he sang out Green Day lyrics. I smirked at how passionately he sang the subversive content, as if he were serenading me with a romantic verse; though secretly I was impressed with his talent. As we talked afterwards, he confessed to me that he hoped one day to be a legit musician.

He was a blond haired, Swedish boy that went to Young Life meetings in Täby – the suburb of Stockholm in which he lived, though it took me a good hour to travel to. We met originally at the Young Life Holsby Brunn camp – I was 16 and he was still 14. See? Much too young! I focused my sight on Maarten that summer…

But Freddy was a nice kid, and I recall being impressed at how cool he was even though he was only 14. Gosh, I was cocky, now that I think about it… because CLEARLY I was a cool 14 year old – so why would I expect less from any other 14 year olds?? Haha.

Anyway, Freddy (actually we mostly called him Fredrik, as was his Christian name, back then – Freddy is the newer incarnation of his image… at least as far as I am concerned.) …Freddy was a really good guitar player. He liked to bring his guitar along to Young Life meetings and play around on it afterwards when we were all just hanging out and chatting. He was a sweet thing that would show me when he learned new songs and serenade me as I described. In particular, I remember him singing me not only “Basketcase,” by Green Day but also  “What do you do with a drunken sailor?” Haha.

I remember thinking If only he was my age or older… You know, I kick myself these days when I think of what an idiot I was in that regard. Who gives a damn now about the girl being older / a less than two year age difference? Not saying it would have worked out or that he would have wanted to date me anyway, but you know…. He was a nice enough guy that it would have been worth the effort.

Well, now, when I got back in touch with Freddy some years ago it was no surprise to me that he is now a musician by trade. He is the guitarist for a band called “The Spin.” It is a Swedish “party pop” band, that also apparently has success in Britain. When I first got back in touch with him, they were living in Britain and making appearances on radio shows between gigs… But I understand they now live back in Sweden and just travel to Britain on occasion.

Check him out being a rockstar (haha, it tickles me to call him a rockstar 😛 )


Image from his personality ” Freddy – TheSpin ” facebook page.

…and here is a picture of the band from the band’s facebook page, Freddy is the one on the far left with the sunnies atop his head if you can’t tell without his rocking out face 😛


So, consider this a plug to go check them out – especially if you happen to live in either of those areas that they tend to perform. …and if you get the chance, feel free to say “Hej” to Freddy for me 😉

aaaannnnddd okay… one more pic – from my scrapbook… this is him as a youth at the YL camp at Holsby Brunn… Not the best clarity…  Here’s hoping he doesn’t hate me for sharing it here 😉




Hey Mum

I pulled into Zinger Coffee & Tea’s drive through just as Bachelor Girl’s song “Buses and Trains” started coming through my speakers. It had been a long time since I’d listened to that song.

I liked it as a teen, but hadn’t really thought much about the song as a whole. But as I grabbed my “Sweet Pea” latte (Caramel and Hazelnut… Don’t ask me why they call it a Sweet Pea… It’s a February special, so likely just a cutesy name related to Valentine’s day) and started to listen a little more closely.

I realised that I related more to this song than I had understood as a teen.

“Hey Mum, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you teach me a thing or two? You just let me go out into the world; you never thought to share what you knew…”

About a year and a half ago at this point, my mother came to visit me in Australia. I sat down with her in my living room, with a bottle of wine, and asked her some very similar questions.

I had found out about some issues she had had with her relationship with my father. She had since found out about my abusive relationship – basically. I don’t think she even still cares to hear about the specifics. I mean… I can’t blame her for that. I don’t think I’d want to know details if I were her either. Plus… She had been more involved with my littlest sister and getting her out of an abusive relationship in recent years. It would have burdened her more than necessary to know, really.


“Hey Mum, why didn’t you warn me? ‘Cause I found boys were something I should have known. They’re like chocolate cake, like cigarettes – I know they’re bad for me, but I just can’t leave them alone.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about you and dad? I wish you had been honest with me about stuff like that.”

She looked me in the eye, with a serious expression, as she picked up her glass of wine. “You really want to know? I’ll tell you whatever you want to know now…”

“I do. …It may not have changed much… But if I had known… If you had been frank with me about this kind of stuff… Maybe I would have made at least some better decisions… Maybe I would have avoided the worst of it.”

My mother nodded as if to say she understood and had taken on board my concerns. She then launched into honestly outlining her side of the relationship.

I must say, I appreciate the candid response she gave me… But at the same time it seemed a little too late. Yet… I honestly can’t say how I would have handled the information had I learned it when I needed it – around 13 years of age. Mainly because the majority of the information had to do with my father.

Still… If I had known… If I had a frank discussion or 12 with my mother, perhaps I could have avoided an abusive relationship, or at the very least lessened it. I might have even avoided dangerous situations (i.e Timmy or David). I’m not saying all of my past problems would have not happened… But perhaps I would have made some better decisions once in awhile. I wouldn’t have believed that controlling behaviour and jealousy meant he loved me. I may not have felt that I owed anyone sexual favours or my very heart.

As it stands, I plan to tell my daughter (and my son) about my past before they start eying the opposite sex. I plan to tell them about the abuse I endured, about the mistakes and the triumphs in my relationships. I plan to tell them about the bad – Wyatt, David… though depending on their age I may sanitize certain aspects… basic info without the detail really. I’ll tell them about the good – Justin, Andre… etc I’ll tell them about the relationships in between – Viktor, Sven… and how they shouldn’t settle and dismiss their feelings for the sake of not hurting otherwise nice people. Yet – it’ll be unacceptable for them to be assholes of course. LOL Gosh, this parenting thing is hard. This may have to be over more than one conversation… I guess I’ll take it as it comes…

So anyway… This morning, I took a sip of my latte and started to sing along:

“So I walked under a bus, I got hit by a train. Keep falling in love – which is kinda the same. I’ve sunk out at sea, crashed my car… gone insane – and it felt so good, I wanna do it again.”

Oh, Bachelor Girl… You get me… Even at 34 I sometimes can’t help but feel that I wanna do it all again… OMG WTF is wrong with me?? 😉

Well hey, I suppose there’s something about the rush. The endorphins, the dopamine… The men whether they’re good or bad for me… and maybe, deep down, I think if I did it again I might make better decisions. But you know what? If I’m honest with myself, I’m not so sure that would be true…. Knowing what I know now, I still am more attracted to the “bad boy;”  like a bad habit. I think maybe I should just not have let myself get a taste of them in the first place…

Now if you’ll excuse me; I have a sudden urge for chocolate cake and a cigarette…

There Are Worse Things I Could Do

*Featured image from

In the car today, I introduced my children to some of my fave Broadway songs – which included a handful from both Grease and Grease 2.

I told my 5 year old son that Grease Lightning is about a car, which peaked his interest naturally… and when they sang “The chicks’ll cream for Grease Lightning,” he piped up excitedly  that they were singing about Lightning McQueen!

…”They sure are son!”


Anyway, I started to get nostalgic over these movies. I used to watch them all the time with my good friend Courtney when I was 14/15 – in fact we watched them the very night that we took these photos (previously noted I wouldn’t show all these – but hey, what the heck…) :


I don’t believe I’ve written about this night on the blog before… Though I have in other more extensive writings about Wyatt – these pictures were taken for him. We were at the hotel I was staying at with my mum and littlest sister just prior to moving to Ethiopia. I got my own room and got to have Courtney come stay for an extended sleepover. We took some similar pictures of her too, just because we thought it was fun… I did find one surviving one of her in the stack of pictures – but naturally I will not show such here as it really is none of my business to share that kind of photo of someone. Regardless of if it was taken with my camera at the time…

Anyway, I got nostalgic and started watching Grease this evening, then discovered Grease Live on Netflix so I watched that too (and am currently watching Grease 2 as I write this lol)

I’d like to note that Vanessa Hudgens played Rizzo in Grease Live last year – Wow. When I realised she was Rizzo it took me aback just because last I really paid attention to her was when she was a goodie two-shoes type clean cut character in Disney’s High School Musical.

She certainly has grown up… and while I would not have initially expected her to be a Rizzo type; she blew it out of the park. I was amazed at her talent portraying such a character… not that I ever thought she was particularly untalented or anything… but… still.

Let me just illustrate here for those of you that haven’t seen it for yourselves – this is Vanessa Hudgens singing my fave Grease song, my fave Rizzo scene as it is:


I’ve talked before about Rizzo being my dream role and that I relate to the character, based a lot off of this particular song… I won’t discuss it much further here – you can click on those links if you are interested in what I had to say about that.

I’ve started to think; however, now that I am rewatching these movies for the umpteenth time if there were somewhat subtle influences for me overall – I’ve mentioned this topic in general regarding other movies influencing me on other ideas before – I’m wondering if maybe my penchant for the “bad boy” might have originated here. Though, let’s face it many many of us tend to fall for those types because they give us a sense of excitement – am I wrong, ladies? 😉 Sometimes we may also think we can change them or that they are softies underneath their hard exteriors – like Danny putting on a show in front of his friends in spite of himself. To be fair, I was already dating a bad boy at the time Courtney and I were obsessing over the movies – though I had seen it on stage for the first time a good year before I met him.

I just realised too that Grease 2 has Sharon often handling a cigarette holder:


Image cropped from an image on

That played into my psyche, perhaps… Perhaps I am reading too much into that… but this along with Bullets Over Broadway is the likely reason I decided I myself would start using them in high school. Now I have three. I don’t smoke nearly as often anymore… just socially and usually with a drink in my other hand…


In High School I had the same as the plain black one – but that eventually broke, so this is a replacement of the exact same kind. These both have crystal filters which somehow ease my mind that my smoking isn’t AS bad if I’m using them LOL (Don’t smoke regardless, kids… )

I also have a rosewood one that I rarely use simply because i am always fucking losing it! It’s misplaced again… smh… so I’ll have to use a picture from Amazon. It’s hand carved, mine looks most like the darker wood one. I actually love it – even though it is carved and unable to hold filters, it makes the smoke flow really smoothly. I’m gonna have to order extra of them, gosh…


I also just realised that in one scene at least, Sharon is using one that has a gold top like my other filter one… except… it’s PINK. OMG. I need that in my life… LOL

Anyway, this post went off in a direction I didn’t intend… so I’ll bring it back around to wrap it up, haha. Basically – I suppose I should say at this juncture: Yes, I have vices. Yes, I can be a sarcastic bitch on occasion. Yes, I prefer the bad boys – I have a gut reaction to lust after them – even though I know they likely won’t ever truly change… and I may have had a pregnancy scare as a teen. I may have contracted an STD in my past… I may have gone with “a boy or two” …But, you know, there are worse things I could do.

When one has a boyfriend…

Oh my goodness you guys, I completely forgot about something. I was going back through old messages between myself and Maja trying to find some particulars we discussed about a memory I was planning to write for you today (still will do if I am able to construct it in time) and I came across something else I told her:

“Soooo I complained to Dane he wasn’t giving me talking time because I guess I’m not a cute girl like his eharmony girls and he replied ‘You are also married:’ “

(followed immediately by the link to this video: )


I asked her at the time what I should read into this. While I didn’t get a straight response from her about it two years ago; I thought I’d drop it here for you all – make of it what you will LOL

Fuck, man (or “my feelings taste like donuts”)

…All around “fuck!”

I’m feeling much better about the Wyatt issue from the past two posts… buuut…

I’ve got two things to bitch about and then I promise, off of the downer posts again for a little while. 

First, ok, get this: when I saw Wyatt has two facebook accounts the other day, I noticed we have a mutual friend. When I got back in touch with her years ago she said they weren’t in contact and hadn’t been in a long time, though she was aware he was on facebook. Now they are. This is the same girl that was BFFs with him back in the day and for loyalty to him did not let me know he had been cheating on me any of the times he did it. 

I post a lot of my blog posts on facebook… blocking out certain groups, but I don’t block her.

Now I am petrified that she may have passed along information about this blog to him and the fact I clearly write about him (though his name is changed, she would easily recognise him.)

Goddamit! I mean… FUCK!

Second, I have been eating like crap the past two weeks like “Oh, hello feelings… you taste delicious.”

In case you’re wondering: my feelings taste like donuts and Vanilla Coke.

It’s caught up to me and I feel like shit now. After packout this week I will be sure to get down to kickboxing and BJJ and for the love of Christ stop eating pastries and candy corn.

On that note… I promise profusely again to give you happy thoughts tomorrow LOL 

Not Ever Going To Leave

I’ve mentioned before that I have a keepsake from Wyatt that I have never been able to let go of, even in about 20 years. It is a small glass jug filled with purple glitter from the ren faire….

I never have mentioned, though, that the jug is not the only thing I still have.

This item is not something I think on much usually, because most often it is half hidden in the mess of my daughter’s room. But it’s here. Somewhere along the way I decided to keep the big Winnie the Pooh he bought me one year for Christmas. 

That year, must have been 1996, my grandmother also gifted me the very same Winnie the Pooh, but I had already received this one from Wyatt… so I took the one from her back to the store an exchanged it for a matching Tigger.

Yet, only god knows where that Tigger is now. I’ve kept the bear from an abusive boy and lost the Tigger from a loving family member along the way.

So far I’ve maintained resisting the urge to reach out to him as I mentioned in my last post… but I can’t help but wonder if he even recognised his behaviour. I’m wondering if I was just a royal bitch to drop that message on him a couple years ago telling him I didn’t want a response… Denying him a right of reply.

I’m trying to push the nostalgia feelings away and hold on to the bad memories to keep me strong in the resolve to not contact him.

Fuck, man. 

He’s always going to be a part of me. Even if I eventually get rid of Pooh and the glass trinket… he’s not ever going to leave my head for good.

Resisting the Urge to Apologise

Yesterday morning I got a facebook memory notification that brought up a status in which Wyatt had commented when we were briefly in touch again 6 years ago.

Fuck, but I hate memory notifications sometimes. I let my curiosity get the best of me, and I tapped his name so his profile popped up. I was confused because the last time I looked his name was different on facebook. Last time was when I sent him a message telling him how I really remembered the relationship. The last time I looked, I told him he was abusive.

Turns out he has two Facebook accounts. Though now the names match again. I wonder why…. My gut instinct would be the cheating thing. We all know he was prone to that…

Whats really bothering me is this though: I scrolled through his older account and came across some images that reminded me of his old self (in general he is not as attractive to me as a grown up than he had been as a teen…) – pictures of him playing his bass guitar and one in particular that showed off his gentle looking eyes…. “looking” being the operative word.

Why would this even bother me, you ask? Because for some reason I suddenly felt guilty for having sent that message a couple years ago calling him abusive. Suddenly I felt bad for possibly having hurt his feelings. It’s crap. I know.

I’m currently resisting the urge to reach out and apologise even though I am fully aware I have nothing to apologise for.

What in hell is wrong with me?