The Cupboard Is Bare

Bless me writing for I have erred. It's been three years since my last blog post.

And not much has changed.


Reading back on my last entry, I'm still living the same life and thinking the same thoughts. Always coming back to the same place- a deep, black hole of nothing. 

Today is Monday, which we traditionally think of as a beginning- the first day of the week-at least according to the Western world. The day most of us start the working week if we do so Monday to Friday. The day we always tell ourselves we're going to start that diet, give up smoking, get up early to go for a walk/run/workout at the gym etcetera.

Today I woke up to a text message letting me know that my casual job has no more shifts for me. I took a deep breath and watched a podcast on YouTube with Joey Diaz and Henry Rollins. I then received my expected call from Centrelink about my application which thus far has been almost on par with performing dentistry on myself. The person I spoke with was kind and helpful in the only way he could be in his limited capacity. More things to fill out and supply which wasn't asked for in the initial application and going into the office itself. The call ended with him making an appointment for this coming Wednesday at the local job centre as part of the deal. 

 I walked into my lounge room and noticed my cat had brought a rat in which was mutilated and left in all its grossness for me to clean up. I went into the bathroom and when I reached there, I had a breakdown. I sobbed, I screamed. I looked around my bathroom for something sharp to carve into my thighs but I didn't do it.

Maybe I needed to scream. I've read about primal screaming - not just the Bobby Gillespie variety- and its therapeutic benefits. For some reason I always envisioned going to an empty beach with the ocean raging ahead of me and screaming a lifetime's worth of pain to the elements. Screaming so hard and loud that I collapse on the sand feeling only exhaustion and relief.  

In true Maggie style, it wasn't that beautiful beach on a cold Winter's day. It was sitting on the toilet in my messy bathroom in my leopard print pyjamas. Wearing my rubber boots so I could go outside in the rain to dispose of another rat corpse. Wanting to carve lines into the skin of my upper thighs and watch streams of blood run onto the lino. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed. I sobbed. I yelled. I cursed myself for being here at this place again for never learning the lesson. That fucking saying 'those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it' must have been created for me.

But I didn't do it. I didn't reach for the sharp implement. I sat there and wondered what was worth living for. 

• My mother is dead. 
• I have no children. 
• I'm not married. 
• Most of my friends are cared for with families etc. 

What do I have to give? What do I have to offer? Why do I need to stay?

They say to embrace your difference. Wear your weirdo like a badge of honour. And so on and so forth.

My whole life- even as a child- I've been aware of my difference and of the darkness that surrounds me. At the age of eleven, John Lennon released an album called Walls and Bridges. My sister bought it and I listened to it a lot. Thinking back to that time, I realised that even at that young age, I was able to connect with his song 'Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out'. 

Nobody loves you when you're old and grey

Nobody needs you when you're upside down

Everybody's hollerin' 'bout their own birthday

Everybody loves you when you're six foot in the ground

School was always tough and although I have always made friends easily enough, I was a target for the bullies. 

I left school traumatised by the experience. It took me years to be able to walk past a group of teenage boys without almost having a panic attack. 

Work over the years hasn't been much better. When Sinead O' Connor wrote the lines in her song Black Boys on Mopeds 'these are dangerous days/to say what you feel is to dig your own grave, she knew what she was talking about.  As a person who says it like it is, honestly and forthright, you soon realise that people don't like the truth. Lies are sexy. If truth and lies were shoes, truth is a classic pair of stillettos, black patent leather with a six inch spiked heel. Truth would be a pair of Crocs- not sexy at all but comfortable and reliable.  When you say what you think you might as well paint a target on your chest and wait for the arrows to fly. A free thinker in a work place- especially a corporate on- is quickly made known that this is not on and you'll be taken down by ever peg imaginable.

I've never been good at games. I hate pretence. Every job I've had your co workers always tell you 'play the game, cover yourself' but why? Why can't we just do our jobs without some narcissistic arsehole playing favourites and making it difficult for those they don't like? I don't go to work to make friends. I have friends. I do have a responsibility to treat others with respect and kindness. Not just as part of the code of conduct but as a member of the human race. As an empath. As someone who likes being kind. It's my nature. Most people I work with usually bore the shit out of me but I never impart that to them. It's unnecessary and irrelevant on all levels. 

I'm in a desperate situation and the only person to blame is myself. I continually make bad choices and it's led me here. They say everyone is only two steps away from homelessness- I'm dipping my toes in - that's how close I am.

Years ago I said that I wanted to die at 55. When I said that, it seemed so far away. I'm only five  weeks away from it. Was it a prophecy? Maybe it's my time. 

However, thoughts of suicide and wishing for terminal cancer aside, if I can get myself out of this shit can I've placed myself in, I can imagine a better life for myself. If money were no option, I'd spend the rest of my healthy, active days circumnavigating the globe and visiting every single place I could. 
Money is an option and I need to find it. I need to get over my lack of confidence and my anxiety and rock one of these interviews and stop fucking things up. Maybe I should stop being silent and tell my friends how things are. I'm so afraid they are going to hate and shame me for being so pathetic. I want to have faith that they still love me and that they would be devastated if I killed myself rather than admit the self hatred I feel, that I'm already soaked in shame and humiliation. To have faith that they would band together to keep me here so I can rebuild. 

Maybe it's just better to be fearless and not care what anyone thinks. I always say I don't but I do. 
Now that mum is no longer here and hasn't been since December 31, 2017 when she finally let go of her body, it's time to stop being sad over her death. Maybe I should just say 'fuck it' and throw everything in. Bet the lot and take a chance. I'm already losing at life. People will always say no. It's okay to fail. I tell myself that and then crumble when I do fail. Then I don't do anything because then I don't get rejected. Whatever way you play it, it's all bad.

I portray a life of hunky dory on social media. Look at me volunteering for social justice! Look at the food I'm baking! Look at me having dinner with my friend at his house! Look at my cat! It's all smoke and mirrors, friends. 

Somewhere in my heart and mind is joy, happiness, fulfilment, creativity and peace. It's been overtaken by anxiety, fear and a deep, black depression that never goes away.  I would seek treatment for it but that requires money. That's why in my mind, it's cheaper to die. I'm worth more dead. Unfortunately, this is my life at present. 

After my breakdown in the bathroom, I decided to dig up this old blog I attempted way back when and read the last entry. In it I talked about creativity and how I need to be part of it. To do so in anyway I can. So I logged in and started writing. I'm listening to Led Zeppelin and finding it as comforting as I did at 15. I'm going to post this and don't care if it sounds convoluted or senseless.
I'm laying it to waste knowing full well a group of trolls could use it to hurt me. I don't care. 

When I was a child, I loved writing stories. Creative writing was my thing. I don't know why I let the trolls at school crush this. Now I'm an older woman closer to death than I was, it's time to not care. Just write stuff and see where it goes. Stories, poems, blogs, whatever. So what if it's crap? It can't be any worse than fighting the urge to stick sharp implements into my body to make the pain inside come out. It might not hurt initially but it does eventually and the scars just add to the shame you already feel. 

I'm going to leave these words here. I'll try to come back. Just write words that might not even make sense. 

I need to work out who I am.

Filling up a somewhat empty plate

Hiatus. Procrastination. Floundering. Goat fucking. Call it what you want. It all means 'what happened to writing and keeping up with your blog'.

The last two years has been a myriad of strange jobs, happiness, dark black depression,anxiety, music,dancing,alcohol and smoky times. All equating to the same thing; I still haven't got my shit together. I keep doing the same thing and expecting the a different result. This is known as insanity. I seem to excel in this particular type of denial.

Since my last post dated May 18, 2013, I have lost 4 jobs. The last one was 3 weeks ago after being unemployed for around four months. This was meant to be the one that saved me, where I would truly get my ca ca in one sock,save money,move ahead and change my goal posts. Fat chance. It only took me 2 months to fuck that up. Go me.

So here I am again. Working at a catering company doing shitty shifts. Making sandwiches between 7am to midday then coming home for a few hours and then working with them in the evening again to serve food or sling booze at functions. At least that's what's happened for the past 2 weeks. The same crap I was doing before I finally got the job I wanted at a company I wanted to work for. I guess the saying 'be careful what you wish for' applies here. We weren't a good fit. Why I thought I could ever work in call centre again is beyond me. Calling the role 'helpline consultant' doesn't make it better. Beware of weasel words. George Orwell spoke of this in 1984 and called it double speak. It's double plus bad.

I feel some power,energy,the universe or whatever is pushing me for change and for once, I want to step up and embrace this. I'm going to stop running from my problems. I have admitted to myself that I am ill. I have a brain disorder and I realise now that I have had attention deficit disorder my whole life. This week, I've put the wheels in motion to begin dealing with this. I've had my first of many counselling sessions. I'm going on medication for a while. I need borders, I need structure. I need to build a fence in my brain so that I can learn to focus on things. I need to start practicing mindfulness. I need to look after my health. I want to start doing yoga or pilates. I want to start swimming laps. I'd like to do boxing to work out,get strong and improve my hand/eye coordination. I want to start tango again. I was going regularly again but since losing my job, I've been too low to get out and do such things. It's always there and I'll go back when I'm ready.

One thing rings true- I need to be creative. I need to start learning to sew, to knit properly. To create new dishes in the kitchen. To be musical. These things don't even need to cost a lot of money. I have much room in my life for these things. I am beginning by writing. It's a talent that I've let go. So I have begun with this blog post. Perhaps if I write a a few times a week, it will strengthen to other things. Above all, I need to keep trying,to keep pursuing,to learn new things. The shift from the old to the new will be wonderful,difficult,exciting and challenging. I need to do this.

Spur me on friends.

All In A Noodle

Back to life. Back to reality.

It's been 4 months-if you can believe it-since returning from my travels. One could say I've lived a strange existence since coming back. I've been stuck in some kind of vortex. Like Narnia, depending on which side of the wardrobe I've been on.

Since coming home, I've haven't been able to procure a steady,regular run of the mill life that I thought was mine to take up again. Jobs seem to be thin on the ground and I think up until now I've been living in some kind of denial. I'm barely keeping my nose above water and I'm getting rather exhausted from treading in the deep of the proverbial sea.

After being in somewhat of a deep,black funk for the better part of this month, I woke up this morning feeling strangely optimistic. I realise now that I've been doing this wrong both job-wise and personally.
So, it's time to pick a side of the wardrobe. Time to leave Narnia for good. It's in the past and I can't be there for the moment. Time to wake up and say the words out aloud; "My trip overseas is over. I am here now. You are the most important person in your present. Stop living in the past and live NOW."

Phew... there. I've said it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Contemplate your navel. No fluff-you're doing okay.

It's time. It's time to move forward. I have an armful of beautiful memories that aren't going anywhere. I'm allowed to keep them. They're mine and no-one can take them away. A piece of my heart might still be in San Francisco but that's okay. I have a big heart and I can spare that piece. There's a lot to share around. I know he'll take care of that piece and I hope he is comforted by it despite life's little annoyances that occur. Dear holder of that piece of my heart in SF, you are loved and I'll always be thinking of you.

So it's time. Time to re-think,re-group and rearrange. Time for innovation,hard work, networking and moving forward. I don't have time for the black dog. That old mutt nipping at my heels is holding me back with five ton thoughts and a churning stomach. With crushing anxiety and exhaustion. I can't do this anymore.

I need to write and I need to create. I don't know what this blog is going to be. I do know that it just needs to be.

So be here with me. I'm on a new journey . It may not be the milongas of Buenos Aires or the ancient ruins of Peru and Mexico, but I'm sure we can find some excitement with just the human spirit.

I'll give it a try and see where it leads me. I think I might be a little excited.

South America; Buenos Aires

I arrived in Buenos Aires on September 15 which was a Saturday. It was a breezy arrival and with confidence walked to the front of the airport and booked a remis to my hostel. "San Telmo en la esquina Peru y Chile, por favor." The airport is a fair way out from where I stayed and when we reached San Telmo, it immediately was familiar. I stayed in the same place as it was 'my corner' and I needed to be there again.  They advised me that check in wasn't until midday. No bother, they happily looked after my suitcase and I went around the corner to La Poesia for my standard tres media lunas and a cafe con leche. After breakfast, I walked around to check out the neighbourhood and then headed back to the hostel. This time,my experience wasn't the same. They placed me in a crappy room with a single bed so small I'm sure a five year old would have problems sleeping in it. Poutily, I changed my clothes and headed into Retiro to get supplies. It was if time had stood still. Same guys on Florida saying 'Cambio' as you walked by, same market of jewellery and crafts, same people begging for money with their children.

I arrived back at around 5 and took a siesta. I knew exactly where I was going for dinner and I was so excited to be going there,hoping that the same staff would be there and that they would remember me.
I dressed up and went downstairs at around 9.30 and the first person I saw was Marianos. He remembered me and gave me a big hug, They were all still there except for Luciano who left to start his own parrilla with his father. Lots of hugs and fussing-it was like a homecoming. The restaurant was packed inside so I took a table outside as it was a nice night. My first sip of malbec and the first bite of my bife de chorizo and I was in heaven. After the meal, an American guy who was sitting a couple of tables away from me came over and asked for a cigarette. I said "of course and please join me." His name was Carlos and we got on like a house on fire. We ended up getting a bottle of wine then going out to a bad club for a couple of beers. Thankfully, he spoke flawless Spanish which made it easier to get around. At the end of the night, he announced that he was tired and wanted to go so I was saying good bye and he said 'no, I want you to come and stay at my hotel." So I thought, why the hell not? Beats my crappy room and my spaghetti-thin bed. He was staying in an amazing hotel with 2 huge beds. I took one and he the other. Carlos is gay so there was no hanky panky gonna go on there! The universe came through with the solution for the crappy room!

The next day, waking up with hangovers, we walked to a nearby restaurant and had a lovely Sunday brunch and Carlos insisted on paying. After that, he needed to go as he was flying out of BA that day and needed to sort out things out. We said goodbye and gave each other big hugs. I am definitely going to catch up with him when I go to San Francisco again! So lovely and so much fun!


That day when I got back to the hostel, I jumped onto the Airbnb site and found an apartment just down the road for $50 a night. I gave the hostel the news that I was leaving as I just couldn't sleep on that bed and they had no other rooms for me. To illustrate the point, later that day after a siesta, I rolled over to check the time on my phone and fell out of bed!

The new apartment was amazing I stayed there for the rest of my time in BA. I also discovered a great place for coffee at the San Telmo market and befriended the staff there. I adore that city. It's a place I feel totally at home at-despite my lack of Spanish. A place where I can just be.

On The Road

I started this blog as a means of detailing my travels around this part of the world. However, I've been away for a month and haven't written a bloody word!

So, I will try to make up for this now and attempt to document my trip thus far.

I started this journey on Monday, August 20 when I flew from Melbourne to Los Angeles. I spent 4 days there and was able to catch up with my good friend,Sara to have a new tattoo done. I adore my new tattoo and thus far have had many compliments on it in both English and Spanish.

After LA, I flew to Monterey on the California coast to attend a music festival to see Gogol Bordello. They were amazing! After the gig, I went to a local bar where Eugene Hutz did a DJ gig which was also fantastic. I met many great people and had a good boogie. I was too shy to approach him for a photo op. He had a chica with him that he seemed very preoccupied with when he wasn't spinning discs and I didn't wish to interrupt.

After my three days in this sleepy coastal town, I travelled via bus/train/bus to San Francisco. I adore San Fran. It has so much more than Los Angeles can offer. Great community feeling,people,food and cocktail bars. I arrived very late at night and stayed at a very nice apartment owned by a lovely guy named Josh. He wasn't staying there, he stayed with his boyfriend and allowed me to stay there alone. Whilst there, I wandered the city on foot, discovered 2 incredible Tiki bars; Smuggler's Cove and Tonga Room. The cocktails at Smuggler's Cove knocked me on my arse!

While in SF, I was able to finally meet someone I had been communicating with on and off. He was in a band a really liked and is now has a new band who happened to be playing while I was there. His new band is awesome and I had an incredible night. He was also very hospitable to me and it was lovely to meet him after all this time. I was a tad inebriated after first visiting Tonga Room and have a couple of their ultra potent drinks!

After San Fran, I flew to New Orleans where I experienced one of the most AMAZING cities! So much culture,tradition and the people are so fantastic. The night I arrived,my host Mike cracked open some beer and we went for a walk around the lovely neighbourhood. People on their porches saw us and all say "How're y'all doin'!" So nice! While there, I was able to see one of my all time fave band, The Jesus and Mary Chain at the House of Blues. They still have it. I also got to see Kermit Ruffins and the BBQ Swingers twice while there and they blew the roof off. The food is incredible in NOLA. The most special thing I experienced was attending a second line parade. To be able to dance behind the band, drink beers sold at the side of the road for two bucks and see people celebrate life as it should be is a sight to behold. I feel blessed to have taken part in it. To go to Frenchman Street and go from bar to bar and see incredible music is magic. Such a great culture they have- I hope it is never taken away. NOLA- fight for your right to party!

After NOLA, I flew to Austin,Texas and was hosted by a lovely couple- Joann and Xavier. By that stage, I was a bit partied out and needed some down time. They were like a family to me and looked after me well. There wasn't a lot to do in Austin and I wouldn't agree that it's the music capital of America but it's a place to see if you so desire. I think by this stage, I was just itching to get to Buenos Aires. Jo generously gave me a lift to the airport and I said my final farewells. My stays via Air BnB have been so wonderful. Nice places,good people. I can thoroughly recommend it if you come across this and wondering where you want to stay when traveling. It's cheaper and the people you meet through it are awesome.

Phew! That's my catch up thus far on my trip. I will write about South America soon. Promise.

News From The Bowl

So much for my promise to keep up to date with my blog. 


I think this has to do with the fact that I can't upload any pictures to my Mac thus limiting me from telling the stories I want to tell. I really do enjoy pictures with my words. 


As it stands, no photographs. Even my iPhone is on its last legs and won't speak to this Mac unless I wipe everything off of it. That's where Apple stuff truly blows.  Technology, you're letting me down.


In seventeen more days, I'll be on a plane winging my way to Los Angeles. I can't believe that it's almost here. I should be up and around,getting busy sorting stuff out today but I'm not. I'm having a bed in, watching The Sopranos and craving pasta as they serve it on the show all the time! Django isn't making it easy as he's crawled in and is snuggling with me. I think I'm just going to enjoy this moment as I won't be having them for a few months; cuddle time with my kitty who is so beautiful. I must dedicate a blog just to him soon. The photos will definitively be necessary for that one as he is a sight to behold.

The weekend has landed once more. Sin de la semana. I'm glad this one has nothing really planned-no real 'have to's'. I'm enjoying getting older and embracing quiet times and solitary comfort. I feared both of these for so long. Being alone was a state that never sat well with me. My greatest of all fears was rejection and strangely enough, it's something I don't worry about anymore. To quote a song line from Sinead O'Connor; "The whole time, I'd never seen/All I  needed was inside me." There's a joy and blessing in getting older. Why waste time,energy and money trying to look younger? No amount of botox or fillers can fix it unless you want to look like a freak. Youth comes from inside and no amount of money can buy that.

So, this chica is going out on a huge limb. Many have asked if I'm scared about my trip. Others have commented on how brave I am. I don't know if I'm either. This trip is definitely pushing me way beyond my comfort zone but that's the whole point.  People do buddhist retreats, yoga retreats, spiritual retreats. This journey is my meditation,my Vipashna,my prayer and my salute to the sun. I know I'm going to be in situations where I will be scared,alone,frightened,confronted and challenged. I'm not focusing on these things. I am thinking about adventure,food and the people I will meet. I don't want to focus on pick pockets, crime and other things that do occur in some of the places I'm going to. I figure as long as I come home alive and in one piece, all will be well!

I've lived so long in a deep well of negativity and depression. Of fear and loathing. What could be worse than that?

The First Twirl Of The Fork

And thus it begins.

Another blog I hear you sigh. I begin them and then I grow weary of what I write. I make the names of my blogs too personal and they belong to a time and place that I inevitably move on from.

A new chapter begins both in life and blogsville. I have named this one 'The Spaghetti Imperative' as it doesn't really mean anything and I like the sound of it. I updated my Facebook status one Sunday after a night on tiki cocktails that read; Spaghetti. Imperative.  One of my friends who lives in Hamburg commented that it sounded like a band name. I had been thinking of reviving my blog when it dawned on me; here's my new name. I just added 'the' and ta da- new blog name, new blog full stop.

Once I get my new camera and my Mac to talk to each other, I will be uploading photos and journalling  my life in words and pictures. Today officially marks five weeks until I embark on a five month travel extravaganza of North,Central and South America. My dream of having a birthday in Buenos Aires and spending Dia de los muertes (day of the dead) in Mezzeeko are coming true. I am indeed blessed and the universe does go out to bat for you. The term 'happy dance' doesn't even cut it.

So, the first blog. My introduction. Getting my feet wet again to plunge head long into writing. This time, I feel I have much to document and must pledge to spend time everyday or at least most days to keep this one current and relevant.

To those who have stumbled across this page, welcome. Jump on board and take this trip with me.