Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Following On

I'm not here anymore.. the activities and thoughts of this blog are no longer.

Part 2 of my life is now here, and you are most welcome to follow me over :-)

Thank you all for being part of this..(all 5 of you) xxxxx

Tuesday, April 06, 2010

Who moved my clock?

Daylight savings has finished. This is the good part about this system is the end bit, when you can sleep in late (well it feels like it)

I wrote this yesterday for the local paper, The Sydney Morning Herald. They have an unpaid reader's column called 'Heckler' and I'm trying to get a submission... one of my goals in becoming a writer.


I feel like a resident on the NSW/ QLD boarder during daylight savings, not knowing what is the right time. Frantically checking number plate origins and asking locals, what's the time please?

See someone changed my clock. I know the clocks had to change on Sunday but someone or something changed them. I'm alone this weekend, except for the spoodle,... clocks just don't go and update themselves, or do they?

I only changed one clock before bed last night, my mobile phone/ alarm/ virtual life support. It would be my lodestone, telling me the time and giving me the thing we all love about the time change forward... the one hour extra in bed.

But silly me, I woke up switched on the computer, then the kettle, then checked my work mobile and well being on some orange alert for time issues, got all confused and wondered why the computer already knew the time change, but the oven didn't and neither did the digital set top box but the iPhone did.

These devices used to be more polite, messages like ' I intuit a change in your regions' time, would you like to update?' Yes, thank you for asking. My friend's computer just updated hers last week, wrong week mate, but how do you reprimand your computer.?.I was only being helpful, it would probably say.

Someone has to supervise these self-updating computers. Are they changing other things? taking away minutes and hours, telling satellites where you are not, reverting your spelling option back to US English and deleting your cookies. Now they just go ahead and change an hour without asking. So Gen Y. Well like, why be so manual? they'd say.

My cup of tea gets cold while I seek out the correct time. I want to go back to bed and finish the Big Easter Novel but have lost my time-way. Have I two hours or three hours until the family lunch? The dog is now confused, isn't it walking time?

I'm not sure I like the time change on a public holiday. It's mucking up my lazy schedule. I don't know how long to lie in bed for. I prefer the surprise of finding an extra hour for sleeping in on a weekday.

The answer lies in the abandoned watch draw. The yellowing swatch, my 6th Grade watch and importantly the watch I was wearing 6 months ago (because I use my mobile to tell the time). I line up all the watches and satisfyingly they all tell the same time. The right time. Now, back to bed.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

I have to be here

I am lost without you little blog. My friend Marilyn reminded me yesterday I should resume blogging.. .. she thought of this while gassed out at the dentists. Strange where you can have epiphany moments. My moments are usually in the shower.. this is a good excuse to take longer showers.

Yes, lots has happened.. and the weirdest one is that I'm in a relationship. Yes it's good, but I don't blog about him while it's happening.. Have learnt that you don't blog about him while you're seeing him.

To give you a summary and over the next few weeks will update you on all my shower thoughts.

  • I'm unemployed right now (it's day 4)
  • Still haven't done my tax. That's six years worth now
  • I owe about $16,000 on credit cards
  • My mortgage is up to date
  • I go to pub trivia every week and we win almost every time
  • I see a psychotherapist weekly
  • I'm not on any anti-depressives
  • My boyfriend is hot
  • I'm writing a children's book
  • Going to see Spandau Ballet, Tears for Fears, The Pixies and Simple Minds in concert

back soon

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Relationships are foreign

I really enjoy my own company. I can't imagine having a husband and kids to look after. The dog is enough. I go out about 3 times a week and have lots of friends. I can walk into a social function by myself, see a film, sit in a pub, wander the shops. I like doing things alone.

Now the nights are hot, and even though I have the ceiling fan on most nights, I can't imagine sharing a bed with anyone. I read books, listen to podcasts, read my mobile phone news at 3am when I can't sleep, the dog jumps on and off the bed so the last thing I want is to share this space. If I ever have to live with someone we are so having separate bedrooms, probably each with a different climate. I like the windows open, even in winter. I love fresh air.

My friend, Louise, recently went to Sweden. She noticed all the beds are actually two single beds pushed together. Single doonas, side by side. Now that doesn't happen to a whole country via a nifty marketing strategy. They must really like having completely different sheets, pillows and their own doonas, but right next to their spouse. I'll just have a whole room, thanks.

When I discovered my desire to live alone (albeit with best flatmate ever - the current one - and the spoodle) I worried I wasn't worried. It's so me to be alone and happy. Like I'm trapped in a married world and I like being single, now I've discovered Alone-&-Happy-Island, which is my home, just I see it differently.

It's also being comfortable with whatever life is at that moment. I long ago ditched the idea that a man will change my life. No saviours, no princes, men are just others types of humans. The messier, doona hogging type.

Friday, December 11, 2009

it's the frisky season

Sydney is melting. The air is hot and still. Only mosquitoes break the thick air with their determined buzzing.

The city, the CBD, where I now work is full of hot Christmas shoppers and city workers who scurry back to their air conditioned offices after lunch time. The shopping centres look garish with over bright decorations. Already you wish the sun would fade the tinsel's intensity.

But it's what happening to us, to me, that has me curious.

I'm as hot as the sun, as smoking as a bushfire, as moist as the humidity.

As Madonna said 'I'm on fire'.

I was determined to get a root. have sex. I sighed at the thought of who. It had to be someone I knew. Just get down to business no chit chatting.

It then became apparent that I wasn't the only one on heat. Have you ever walked down a street, or into a lift and just felt the throb of people's thoughts ? Merely walking slowly, more voluptuously through the city, even early in the morning men would eye me up, and it was quite animalistic.

I'm having trouble with my phone, my Nokia N96. The sim card keeps popping out and killing the power. Waking up earlier this week, I noticed my phone was off. Two messages popped up when I turned it on; both from The Midnight Caller. He wanted to know if I was interested in an early morning visit. That's a vast improvement from a late night visit and at least he'll be sober. But I wasn't pleased that he expected me to visit him. House calls ? I don't do.

Later the same day I was waved down by another old boyfriend. Co-incidentally Midnight Caller and this one have the same name, Simon. We had a good old chat, he walked me back to my work and had a look around the store. You know when you're fishing for information? he didn't mention any girlfriends, but that he's doing yoga (ie. look at my body). A couple of hours later he returned with a Christmas card. He left it and walked away.

Well reader I wanted someone I knew to bonk, but not these two. Who else?

I put the call out to Mr Triple Scorpio. (Hi, can I drag you back to my bed ?) Who I hang out with at least twice a week, both at trivia and just at home playing music. He's good looking, nice and tall and is a known quantity. He was keen to obey my commands and help with my sexual problems. Wednesday after work it was.

I was so excited all day, not in a frenzied way, but just secretly happy to getting satisfied.

So there he was walking down the street to my place, we walked inside (the dog suitable exercised ) and went straight for it. Later we watched a movie and I cooked dinner. He left with a few bits of my eyeshadow sparkle on his face.

Monday, October 26, 2009

5 week job

"Tell them we don't have a toilet"

"You can't wear it that way, I didn't design it like that"

"So you've had a boyfriend?"

"I'm not getting you a folder! "

"If you can't cope then maybe you should think if this job is right for you"

Over the last 5 weeks I've been in a new fashion store in Woollahra. Sales were not just great they were outstanding. I'd never experienced a breaking of records like it. Her easy affordable fashions were a hit with the shopping mum crowd.

She, the designer and boss, was gushing about having me manage her store. She knew I had run my own store for 5 years, had set up a retail program and was a phenomenal seller. I came for the inflated price of $25 per hour. A casual. No contracts, I said, until after Christmas until the business was established, plus if it didn't work out, easy to leave.

Her reputation for brash, barking dialogue preceded her. You can run the store, she said, I'll do my designs and can travel. You're in charge, she said in a quick verbal conversation before the opening.

Marry in haste, repent in leisure. The same applies to jobs. Take your time, put it on paper, have a sit down conversation.

It started to fall apart when she asked for complex sales figures when we were using pen & paper and a calculator. While I put in 8 hours a day, 6 days a week to start with she worked late into the night and all weekend, then left me with tasks I was unable to complete while alone and frantically selling on the shop floor.

The computer system was still in decision making limbo while she checked ebay and tried to make cash deals. 'Buy the stupid system' I thought and get on with becoming a more efficient business. I left her tasks. 1. Install the second change room. 2. get the building rubbish removed. 3. buy me a chair.

We had a debate over clients using the toilet. One customer, who was mid purchase, asked if her menstruating daughter (her words) could use our toilet. "The boss doesn't like people using the toilet, but I'll ask". She didn't' want anyone using it, I argued it was rude and should be available to clients when asked. It was a no answer.

After the client left, thankfully another sale interrupted the toilet request, she took me aside to clarify the toilet policy. "Tell them we don't have a toilet" she barked. " I can't lie, I'll say something else instead" "No! " she looked at me with fierceness " Tell. them. we. don't. have. a. toilet ! " The conversation could not conclude until I agreed to use her wording. Besides the client had purchased; justifying her policy.

Makes you wish that no-one ever asks to use the toilet. Too stressful.

The next working day was like she took the right pill in the morning. The computer arrived and being the 'expert' I was there to set it up. Panic set in when I remembered how long the system took me 4 years ago to get going. "She's not going to like this" I thought. Because she wanted me to get it up and running that afternoon. I had to be honest and say it would take at least a week to set it all up. She didn't like that.

"I don't really think this is working out" she said for the second time in 2 days. This time I matched her. " Neither do I. Before I go I think I'll use the toilet"

Thursday, August 13, 2009

The 2nd Time

We joke about 2nd marriages and are sad about the 1st marriage not working. They seem second best, not quite the romantic fairytale, not quite as right or the better option. Potential relationship are marred by stories of a person's supposed baggage.

What if we looked at other spheres for how to reconcile this disparity in relationships when in the worlds of business, music, art, sport and science constant failures are necessary, in fact needed in order to create the right music, art, book, or revolutionary idea.

Chanel failed at her first shop. Edison failed 1000 times before finding the right metal to make his electric light work. First books are appalling, first band line-ups don't work before over-night success is found 10 years later. Failed attempts at your passion are important. In fact, a good biography is not interesting unless you enjoy the win after the failure.

There are failed proposals, failed pregnancies, and misbehaving children before they become responsible grown-ups.

Failure is important !

I failed at my first store, my numerous relationships didn't work out...but oh for the stories! the learnings! Yet I've been a winner... my swimming record is amazing. I was the best breast stroker one year....and how much effort did that take? heaps! many, many hours of following cute boys in speedos..not actually: they followed me in class..but I had to keep being better.

My learnings and failures in 20 odd relationships should give me some advantage.....well actually it does...always.

I'm excited by this discovery. I am actually embracing being someone's second, if needs be. So what if his first wife was wrong, he's right for me and vice versa. I refuse to let the idea of 'second' or 'failed first' be the definition for a marriage. Second is not second best..and even though I like vintage things, it's the quality of it that matters, in both cases. A good vintage jacket is better than a cheap new one. A bad someone else's first husband but good my first husband is how it may be for me.

Failures can lead to amazings sucesses
Experience is needed to overcome failures.
Failure is part of any sphere.