Reliving a memory ad nauseam and no one wants to hear it

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It's a really great memory, the first memories I made in this house, which I now have to move out of due to the building being demolished (yay for progress) and I really just want to talk about these memories and emotions with someone but unfortunately no one wants to hear about it.

It really is a memory that spans a few weekends. The first bit is the drive to Brisbane from Toowoomba to get the keys to my new place (well, it was my new place back then) and it was the first night I ever spent there. I thought I would get to the real estate with plenty of time, until I hit a traffic jam at the Ipswich Motorway. Thankfully I called the real estate and they were really nice about it (I was still in plenty of time to get the keys thank goodness), and I got to my new place a bit before my parents got there with some of my stuff. I slept on the floor with some s**t blankets and a cheap pillow but I was happy. The next day was my first ever trip to Western Australia to watch my beloved Brisbane Lions go up against the Fremantle Dockers - a particularly special game, as it was my Joellys 150th game, not bad for a Port reject. On the flight over I had an interesting chat with a lady named Judy, we talked about mental health and our families and things like that. It's amazing how open people are nowadays about mental health and personality disorders. I got to Perth, then had to wait for the bus to the hotel (which was pretty nice). I got to the game late, but at least I got there (I did every single game that season) and sat next to a young Dockers fan and her Dad, and I also struck up a convo with them (and fed the little girl lollies, being nice to people feels good). Even though we lost, I was so proud of my boys. I went back to the motel and ended up ordering spaghetti for dinner and a prawn salad (which were so yummy) and watched a bit of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Going home was a bit sombre, but there was a light at the end of the tunnel now, I was going to be moving to Brisbane finally.

The next Friday I woke up, and decided then and there I was going to have THE greatest weekend known to man, and NO ONE was going to stop me. I decided that if I was going to have the best weekend ever, I needed to take my beloved kitties with me. Knowing my mother would oppose the situation, I had to be sneaky. At lunchtime I headed out to town from work and bought two litter trays (which technically I'd need anyway because the cats would be moving with me) and some cat litter and hid them in the boot of my car. I spent most of the rest of the day excited. When I got home, Mum loaded me up with all sorts of yummy goodies, like frozen pizza, bananas, chocolate, chips, everything for a spiffing weekend. I headed out the front door, then quickly snuck into my rooms sliding door and nabbed my babies. I hooked their harnesses up to the front seatbelt and headed off. The drive was annoying, seeing as the road down the Great Dividing Range had been limited to one lane only due to road works (which still aren't done to this day) so that took forever. The cats were a bit iffy about car trips, but they survived. I got a call from Mum as I was almost home, "I can't find your cats!" Um, that's because they're with me. Mother was exasperated, but I said that it wouldn't be the best weekend ever without them, and that they were going to move anyway so there was no point getting upset. Mum eventually saw the funny side, and I reached my home without any issues. The cats immediately took to their new home and loved it. The night was spent watching footy and eating chocolate. Next morning was a Brisbane Lions open training session, where I got to chat to my boy Joelly (who is always happy to see me) who AGAIN asked where I sat for the games. I then spent the rest of the afternoon napping, as my tipping went 4/4. Yay me! Next day was Sunday, so off to the Reserve grade game. Then off to the Gabba to watch my boys against the fearsome Geelong. We won from a kick after the siren from the guy who was playing his 200th game. We were rapt. We were pumped. The tradition after the home team wins is that the players will each take a footy or two, sign said footy, and hand it out to someone in the crowd. I will never forget the sight of Joel running towards me with his signed footy. I will never forget him giving it to me and saying "Thank you." He did something that most people (unfortunately including my parents) don't do for me - he remembered me. Most of the time people are too busy, or are too wrapped up in my siblings to pay me much attention, but when the excitement was at it's peak, when he would have been forgiven for just running to any old fan in excitement and handing them the footy, he remembered ME. He remembered that I was his player sponsor, he remembered that I was there when he won his Club Champion medal, he remembered that I like to see him after training, he remembered that I am the founder of his fan club, he remembered that I'm his number one fan, and he wasn't afraid to show his gratitude. I've had players come to our side of the ground before, handing the kids the footies then running past and high-fiving everyone, but for one to actually come and seek me out, and not just any player, but the one I had invested in...

I'm sorry it's such a long post, I really needed to get it off my chest again. Especially now that I'm losing the home that these wonderful memories were made in, and it makes me so sad

Sounds like you had a wonderful time. Cherish those memories, kstar!

I know you feel sad, but those are cool memories to have.

Sweet Pea hugs

Thanks.

*big hugs for everyone*

Can I go back to Kangaroo Point now? I hate my new "home". I wish that my old place wasn't going to be knocked down, I want to go back.

I used someone elses washing machine today by mistake, and while she was nice about it I still feel awful. I hate this suburb! I hate everything!