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.

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 my English DJ friend. (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.

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"

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 life...in any sphere.

The proverbial woodwork

Where are they all coming from? These men from my past, all contacting me & saying hello?

First, Jamie the chef then Bob the Politician, then a random one in New Zealand.

Jamie found this blog (hello you) not sure how as he's in the UK, married and I knew him years before I started this. I really fell for him. He quoted Jeff Buckley, was a cute as hell, could cook like a demon and mesmerized me with his charm. As quickly as he took my heart, he twisted me up with emotional demands. I didn't give him enough praise, was called 'arrogant' by him & I never seemed to do enough for him. It was a very black moment when I realised it was over, that was a profound moment of losing trust in love and men.

Bob the Politician now has 4 children to 2 different wives and he's my age. Another charmer, extremely well versed on many topics and has an interesting life. But he's not the sort to travel in an entourage, he's a lone wolf who has great solo experiences. I get the feeling there are women in all ports for him.

Also forgetting there's another midnight caller in the mix. A random bonk from a month back. Another cute funny boy who dismissed me quickly for wanting to bonk him again. Another moment where my heart and hopes were crushed and dismissed. Only to get midnight calls from him. Which I didn't answer and ignored their existence the next time I saw him.

Even Mr Balcony View turned up the other night. I still have this stupid magnetic attraction for him, despite all the things I know, so it was a relief that he left. I'm happy for him to live in a cupboard, never to be seen again!

While watching some soppy love story on TV,where the main character wanted to know what a good marriage felt like, I just blanked. A marriage? can't even get a sustained relationship going. I am very cynical, I've come to acknowledge. Although hope doesn't disappear it is greatly tempered by the constant pattern of being dumped.

I don't get why they want to see me. Are they unhappy with what they have and are testing the waters for something they might have missed ? Are they pleased with themselves for being married/ loved up/ fathered ?

I have nothing to gain from these contacts. Nice to talk to interesting people, but to be very direct, it's all in my past & not interested in reminiscing about times that I don't' particularly relish the memory of. I choose not to dwell in the darkness of past. My hope, that which remains, is forward.

Slowly coming back

What a year 2008 was, with Mum's death and the business closing, I was happy to use the well-acknowledged escape into the world-of-wine to feel better. I'm only now feeling more stable, with a part-time job, a weekend cash job & less like I live in a washing machine.

After the business closed I was 'unemployed' for 2 months. Aside from 80c in my bank account, I was quite happy. I did no exercise, apart from walk the dog, and enjoyed 3pm wine-time, courtesy of my generous flat-mate and her endless wine cupboard. I did have a cash job on a Saturday, which allowed me to buy food. I'm so middle-class and would never get unemployment benefits or food vouchers.

I know my bad habits and lack of exercise are temporary. The buckets of shiraz every night, are wearing thin. It's now a habit and not particulary fun now. But you just know when you are ready to change. It might have been the sight of my gut hanging over my jeans, or that I'm not looking good in photos, that you slowly get the idea you are not that hot.

I have no plan, just a motivation to move more, drink less.. a small step.

I'll have boy updates for your next post.

Palm Reading

She was good. Straight forward with accurate times and dates.

It was the next period of my love life you always look forward to. When would I find love again?

"You'll have a strong, deep love around 60"

well, that's nice. what about the next 20 years ? Should I be happy I will live that long ? not that I doubt that. but, would be nice if we could bring that forward a bit more...