Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Maccas Delivery

I'm going to start here by warning all parents and parent figures away. I'm telling you right now that if you continue, you'll likely regret it. 




Now that that's over, let's talk about MacDonald's. Or if you live Down Under, like me, 'Maccas'. I think every country has it's own nickname for the Golden Arches, but that's ours and has been for years. Its usually a point of call on a night out or the morning after, a late night snack, comfort meal or even just the old 'I don't even care' dinner. When we were kids it used to be an after school or weekend treat, usually to get whatever cool toy was in the Happy Meal that week, but it was really mostly about the fact that it was bad for you but you got to eat it. The foods that are worst for you always taste so good; like you'll sit there eating thinking about how bad it is for you but it tastes so good that you don't care. What can we say - sometimes being bad feels so good. Its human nature. Doing something you know is wrong is virtually, in a sense, the Original Sin. Even though I'm not religious and I sort of think you have to take that kind of thing with a truckload of salt. 

Speaking of, the salty flavour of fries combined with soft serve anyone? 

As I've gotten older there has been so many changes and additions to the fast food chain depending on what happens to be en vogue at the time. Like when Super Size Me came out and Maccas was suddenly forced to start including healthier options, declare calorie content in each food item and disband the whole 'Super Size' thing they never did in Australia to begin with. It was a pretty massive change and with revolutionary breakthroughs in the health and fitness industries people were a lot more conscious of what they were eating than ever before, and for many of us the guilty pleasure of Maccas wasn't enough to sustain eating it blindly anymore. I myself even went off it for that very reason - not that I ever did get skinny anyway. 

Another rather revolutionary business venture that the big M has come out with in the last few years is of course, you guessed from the title, home delivery. Now I don't even have to get out of my pyjamas to eat my Maccas or get out of my comfy blanket to procure it in the first place. I could have done that back in WA - just bundled myself into the car - but living in Central Sydney I can't walk the few kilometres to the nearest store in my fuzzy slippers without a few odd looks. Even in Newtown that's still weird during the day. 

So Macca's home delivery is something I've used a few times now, and man is it satisfying. My hot nuggets come to me and I can enjoy them from the comfort of my own bed whenever I want. They even remember to include the sauce.

I will say one thing though, and that's Maccas is and has always been busy. Especially on a weekend morning when chances are some hungover person is using that home delivery like its going out of style - I've been there. 

So, let me tell you a little story.

A few weeks ago after a night out, the UnBF and I decided we could go for some all day breakfast, nuggets and burgers. So, we ordered it online through an app (I won't say which, but you've probably used it before if you live in the city) and waited. Order confirmed, excellent. ETA received, awesome. Food never arrived. By the time it had almost been 2 hours I was getting hangry (that's the hungry kind of anger when I'd sell you to your devil for food), and more pointedly so was the UnBF. He was the perfect mixture of hungry, angry and hopeful but was quick to get on the phone and discover that Maccas had decided to cancel our order because they were too busy to deliver it. Only they didn't think to let us know. 

We got a refund and drove to another Maccas, grudgingly so because it had been hours now and we were starving, and were not opposed to telling Maccas what we thought about them charging us then neglecting us. Plus when we got back to the house we were locked out - so there's that. And to make matters even better my antibiotics and inhaler were still inside - I was not feeling good when I finally got back inside. 

That's your context there; we were hesitant to order delivery again after being so badly burned the time before and figured we would take the chance. We had a fail safe in that we'd ring around the ETA to see that it was definitely coming. When you resign yourself to wanting nugs you want your nugs, it's heartbreaking if they just don't show up. There's such a thing in 2017 called the Nug Life, and you don't choose it - it chooses you. We ordered but there was still that fear that maybe those sweet nugs wouldn't arrive like the last time,  and what could we do if they didn't? A refund wouldn't replace the void left by those nugs never turning up for a second time. 

I guess you could then say that when we got the ETA we figured we may as well relieve the tension a bit. 

PARENTS STOP READING - I've told you already!

So, yeah, ok, we may have indulged in each other while we anxiously waited to hopefully indulge in our nugs. There's nothing like a little shag to make the time go quicker. 

The Maccas delivery man, who arrived 45 minutes early, probably didn't agree. 

My room is right at the front of the house, my window was ajar for the fresh air, and yes, our Nug lord and saviour probably heard more than he'd bargained for. At least he didn't see anything...That I know of. So maybe the fable here is somewhere along the lines of the dangers of technology and being careful what you wish for. Oh we got out nugs for sure, but that might be the last time that delivery man comes to my house. 

You could say that our nugs did arrive this time and it was glorious. But we didn't. 

Sam xox

Friday, June 16, 2017

Nightmare

This isn't the first time that I've mentioned that I am superstitious at times and that I have a strong belief in things like the supernatural (and I don't mean the show), the afterlife, spirituality, etc (though not religion). This isn't the first time either that I've blogged about something creepy that has happened to me, that I've felt or that I've otherwise experienced. In case you were wondering this is indeed your pre-warning that this is going to be another one of those posts, so if you have some fundamental issue with that then maybe don't continue reading. I speak from experience both in what happens to me, how I feel, and the nasty reactions to my personal thoughts that other people have had in the past. Consider yourselves warned that many of you will only think I'm crazy.

We all know that I gave up ages ago in apologising for going so long between each post, or going on sudden hiatuses. I'll spare you the sulk there though I will say it has been a particularly unexciting few months for the most part - I've mostly just been sick, injured or stressed and ready to rage quit my job. Not the most uplifting or positive period though I did go on holiday - but that's another story and I'll get to that.

To begin I want to tell you a little story based on a dream I had a few nights ago; it was the kind of dream that freaked me out enough that it woke me up which really doesn't happen to me often. There are not many dreams that I can remember that have actively frightened me - disturbed or upset, perhaps, but not frightened. Most of my nightmares happen when I'm awake.

My dream took place either in the present or the not-too distant future. I and my UnBoyfriend (that's still what we're calling him, its complicated) were visiting a historical complex similar to a church or cathedral. I couldn't say where it was in the world or what sort of culture except that it was a large complex and contained statues including those from Christian/Jewish iconography such as the Virgin Mary. As a twist though they were dark stone, possibly basalt or something similar, and almost geometric styled. For example, the Virgin Mary, as the most memorable statue in my dream, seemed to be almost the shape of a sarcophagus - like a post-modern interpretation.

The two of us were taken through the complex by a guide who explained to us what the statues were of and when they were created etc. When we came to a doorway I couldn't go any further; there was something about it, I could hear things - sort of like the 'Get Out' moment in the original 1970's Amityville Horror. After looking around and very quickly becoming distressed, my UnBoyfriend was quick to point out that the only was out was through the very doorway I was so afraid of - dream logic isn't real logic, I have no idea why. Fortunately though it did work and I got out of there in tact.

It doesn't end there, and in true dream fashion there was a time jump of maybe an hour or two which then saw us at the front entrance to what was either a gift shop or cafe. We had been speaking to some security or police officers about what we had experienced. UnBF had his back to me and as he was speaking the tone and inflection of his voice totally changed along with what he was saying. As this happened he turned to face me, his face morphed as well to that of an angry, supernaturally demonic older man not un-similar to the Bill Wilkins character in the Conjuring 2. That might have been in a movie which is fine on screen, but to have that kind of creeper dive right for you, dream or not, is horrifying though that isn't the part that woke me up.

The part of the dream that woke me up was right afterwards; the security guards grabbed UnBF and dragged him off before he could do any real damage, but as they did he went back to normal and the demonic kind of face that I had seen transferred to a ball that was knocked off a shelf and to the floor. It was gone in an instant, but I was left shook and said - which still resonates so clearly in my mind - that 'there's evil here'.

It's a very movie moment sort of line but it woke me up, heart racing, in deep night and it took me a while to get back to sleep when I already find it so hard to fall asleep in the first place. There's more though to it that perhaps makes it bother me so much more than it should.

I returned from the UK last Monday, still sick as I had been since probably around the time of my last post in March albeit on and off. I was due back in the office on Wednesday but only made it a half hour before being sent back home to bed where I stayed the rest of the week, through the long weekend and finally made it back to reality the Tuesday just gone. I had a good time away, and I will post about it soon, but the trip threw me for a loop and my sometimes sickness really hit me hard.

The reason that I mention this is because as I said I was mostly housebound for about 7 days after I got back to Sydney, and the cocktail of being antibiotic-level sick, jetlagged, post-holiday blue and PMS suffering really left me feeling kind of craptastic for the majority of the time. Weird, creepy shit always happens to people who are not on their mental or physical game - its a movie trope, I promise.

I don't know what got me onto it in the first place or when, but for a little while now I have been getting progressively more and more uncomfortable with a particular room in my house. Its actually locked so that no one can get into it as its a private little area for our landlord if he has guests come to stay, but you can see inside it to the foyer part of it as the room itself has glass walls like a fish bowl. In the foyer is a dining table, some bookcases and a staircase up to the main part of the room which is kind of like a converted attic loft. Its the staircase, really, that bothers me the most.

The other night I got up at around 4 in the morning to use the bathroom, as we do, and had to pass the fishbowl to get there. I didn't turn on the light, so on the way back I was given quite a shock to see sitting on the staircase what seemed to be a little boy. It gave me a jolt and I quickly ran back to bed to hide under the covers, telling myself I'd been dreaming. But in bed under the covers, arms around UnBF like a teddy bear, I could still feel the odd cold and feel the presence of someone, a little boy, right behind me. I even heard him speak though I was too afraid to listen.

I'll take with a grain of salt that even though I believe I am still a little sceptical, but that comes from a place of fear more so than anything. I want the things that go bump in the night to be real, and I think that they are, but I am afraid of them. I always feel that I am right on the verge of seeing much more than I want to.

I feel much better than I did last week though I am still afraid of the fishbowl. I turn all the lights on at night now and though I feel well I still feel vulnerable. I suppose I'm the only one that can fix that. No one can save you from nightmares though, and there can be a million interpretations for what they mean.

Sam xox