The buttons are too small for my fingers...

After some super sleuth work worthy of a holmes novel ( mainly done by mel bel and my boss ) we found the only wallace james chester located in melbourne lives in sale and is the head of the good time dance commitee or something of the like. Sounds like a hip happenin type of guy , maybe someone of the new age type of thinkin ...and i have his phone number and address sitting in my bag.. ready to go ....

so why cant i call it

I've been bagered at work for the last week about this topic as they are all convinced that life will be alot easier if i just got all this over and done with, which is alot easier said than done
its all good for people on the outside lookin in you know..to them its just like watchin someone act out an episode of bold and beautiful. i think there waiting for ron moss to run into our workplace and shake me screaming im' not your father... im your brother ( bom -bom) ...from another mother ( bom -bom)....another mother ....from another planet ( extreme close up at my terrifeid bewildered eyes and cut to commercial) . This is all sunday night viewing for them and all though i dont doubt they want to help it's really not as simple as ringin this guy up and saying " yo homie i think you be my poppy , lets hang "

For this guy this is a pretty major deal as well , by the sounds of things he has a new young family of his own , do u think he needs mysterious phone calls from skeletons in the closet? i doubt it , theres a fairly good chance he's gonna tell me to fuck off , or just deny it all together

i dunno , but i guess theres only one way to find out .. i just gotta press a sequence of buttons ,
bah that avrail lavigne was onto somethin , why DOES shit have to be so fuckin complicated ,

ahh well

In other news melbourne cup day is at the new location of melanie and jaroods place in the berg , there will be much drinkin ,watermelon eating and bbq sheaningans but i doubt very much race watching ....fuckin horses so come one come all

hope to see you there

She's my cherry pie

Jazzcat

The verdict is in

Well i had my meeting with the adoption place the other day , had to run like a bitch to get there on time and finally got shuffled into a small corporote office with twolder woman who had the same quest as myself

The social worker in charge briefed us on the information we were about to receive and invited us discuss our feelings , unfortuneatly for me this turned out to be a request to open up fem fest 2006 and seeings though i had no bra to burn i was fairly left out of the proceding conversations , the 3 woman talked about how there adoption affected them as woamn and only resolved to empower them selves more with knowledge and stregth once they had found out a bit of there history,there was many a tear shed and anecdote shared while i sipped at a cup of tea and made up imaginary cold war battle scenes involving the teddy bear biscuits on the table , i fuckin knew this shit was gonna happen but i really didnt have much choice but to sit in a group interview as the alternative was to wait untill december and i 'm one impatient mother fucker

Finally i clicked back into reality when the lady asked me "Jarrod do you have anything you'd like to talk about" and the three woman gave me a look that oozed "it's ok baby let out your bottled up man -type emotions and we will cradle you to our bosoms and chase away your issues of abandonment" . I just wanted to scream " I'VE BEEN SITTING HERE LISTENING TO YOU CRAZY LADYS TALK ABOUT NEO FEM TOPICS FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF , I WANNA DRINK BEER AND WATCH ACTION MOVIES !! " i felt like i needed to shave for the second time in 2 hours , if there hadda been a volleyball in the room i wouldve named it wilson and befriended it cos i've very rarely felt so nervous or so far away from home... but instead of that i just said " no... i'm just keen to look at my paperwork .." to this she said..."ok ill go get it"
damm that was easy i shoulda piped up earlyer

The lady whose name i cant remember returned to the room carrying 3 files , one for each of us and handed me the thickest one , i just kind of looked at it for a couple of minutes to appreciate the fact that inside this folder wqas the most important piece of paper i've come into contact with in my short life , i was almost afraid to open it for a minute but then i turned around and saw i was laggin behind the pack..couldnt let these margaret thatchers beat me again so i tore itnd pulled out the first page which was my original birth certificate

My Name is Christoper James Mc donald, my parents names were Wendy Gaye Mc donald and Wallace James Chester and they lived in glen waverly and malvern respectively

My mother has almost identical handwriting to my own , and they both gave rather logical and detailed reason for releasing me into the care of another family , and i couldnt thank them more for doing this as i think my life wouldve been alot different if i had've stayed in a young broken home

But the most interesting things were the interviews recorded with my parents ( adoptive ) and all the bullshit they had to go to to get a child while morons around the world are popping them out like skittles .

So i read my stuff , packed up my shit and got the fuck outta there as fast as i could , ate some hungry jacks and met up with some of the lads for a drink at the empress . it ewasnt quite the earth moving experience i was expecting but atleast i've got some names

catch you jokers real soon

The door is always open

Christoper James Jazzcat