spotted!

Thursday night followed art-opening friend, Tina, to Powerhouse for SmartWorks. Apart from art history Tina's skill is also knowing what beverages are served at which gallery openings...she is following the gin trail of art.

Just as she asked, 'has anyone recognised you from the Catalyst show', a nice young bloke tapped my shoulder to ask 'were you on tv this week?'. When he introduced his wife, she gave a fantastic wide mouth stare in recognition. The only response was to start telling stories about the filming. Then felt I had to shut up, stop being full of myself & ask them things...turned out they were exhibiting artists & Tina knew their works.

Others have been in contact. More texts messages from former daters, Mr Chatty called from the INXS concert to compliment my performance. Then MrFitManly emailed to catch-up.. he's moved into the city from Manly, much more convenient...so we'll see.

somewhere in amongst this list of activities will emerge...? what?

it must mean something!

When you're trying to discover the importance of a love interest, the female thing is to find 'meaning' in a many ways as possible. When he said, 'he'll call you later' you fervently hope he means it. Other conversations are dissected word by word to extract any camoflagued desire he is not admitting to directly. The amount of attention he gives you, the glances or stares, even reactions from his friends, all contribute to your hopes.

Friends can also encourage your hopes either by agreeing to your conclusions or telling stories of similar situations that ended happily. Hope lives in this method!

My on-going obsession with MrBV is made up mostly of these 'meanings'. There's been a few strong co-incidences recently. He has two close male friends, one called me last week, to talk about the TV show, the other was having lunch at my local & invited me to join him. My friend, Nicole, meet MrBV's sister last week & discussed his reluctance to settle down, both agreeing I would be a good choice, because of similar backgrounds and longevity of connections & that we get along. All this happened in 10 days.

Over the years, and this is where my long years of dating have taught me, using this method does not work. Dont attribute meaning to anything ! I can only believe in actions, not words or co-incidences. I'm hopeful by nature, believing things turn out well, but not this. It's driving me crazy to see these incidences as meaningful. Two years after meeting MrBV, nothing has happened. He's just a friend and I have to accept that.

Bugger all the positive thinking and wish fulfilment proposed by the self-help industry. Logic, common sense and experience are the mantras I will follow.

Strange Dreams

I love my dreams, the cryptic little buggers, that have me puzzling for the first 10 mins of the day. Over the years I've been able to sort out their jumbled scenarios & see what fabulous messages I need to learn or sort through. Sometimes I use an old dream book, by Quentin Watts who was on Triple J radio, she was always fascinated by the positive messages of dreams and that helped me be less frightened of some dream situations, especially the shameful ones, the naked ones, the death ones. Each is about processing reactions to the day and thoughts for the future.

Last night's dream processed the dating world to me and gave an answer to why I haven't met anyone yet. I was in a stationery store choosing wedding invites, the kind you pick & choose the combinations. Some were conservative, other were too feminine. I was looking for something more me - with a design edge, modern and different, and I had confidence in my skills of taste to make my own selection. It was very busy in there, like everyone was in a hurry. Some people knew what they wanted, others got help from their mothers, the assistants helped the neurotic ones decide, they ignored me as I seemed to know what I was doing. I took my time, I knew I could find it myself.

I spied an upper shelf with arty styles. On closer examination, they were artistically right but for gay weddings, ie. showing female/ female couples so I had to go back to the standard area. By then most of the cards had gone (go figure what that means!) I found one half but not the backing. Some cards were coming back, as they weren't right (another obvious message about divorcees and people back on the market) but these cards were a little soiled.. (ha!)

Finally I was handed a ready-made card package. It was in plastic, was the perfect colours (green and purple?) and came with matching envelope and all. Someone called 'Michael' said "you seemed to know what you were doing, so we left you alone, but the right one is here for you..and we're here to help you now."

The dream said, they may only be a few men left, compared to a whole shop full, but the right one is still there for you, and it'll just happen, because you are there & people want to help.

I've never been in a hurry to find someone, although I wanted to all the time.. I suppose I know what I want, just haven't found it yet. I've looked in the wrong places, whether the people were right for me or me for them, same result.

My small amount of panic was cured by a strange dream.

nil result

Its been a few days since the broadcast. One Aunt very kindly said I had a career in TV, which is fun to hear. Not sure I like the pressure of grooming and hair removal. So will retire now I've had my 15 mins.

Apart from friends and relatives (btw for those who know my family, neither my brother nor sister said a thing, not even 'I saw the show' , nothing, whereas Mum & Dad thought it was a good show & I looked great *sweet*) who all said positive things, I had one bloke who called to congratulate me on my lambada dancing. It was Mr BV's best friend. And another who should have bet his flatmates it was the chick from up the road on TV.

Last night was the NSW state elections. Was hanging out with one of the Liberal candidates at a local pub when we got a last minute call to fill-up the main Liberal Party's party; as they were about to conceed defeat and most people had left. On arrival immediately got the drinks organised & then scanned the huge ballroom. I was looking for a 'Josh' .. my fantasy political boyfriend (from the West Wing)...so that's the only reason I was there...not from some far-right political beliefs, just an ageing political groupie looking for an imaginary TV character at real-life event.

has anyone heard of an actor -slash- mortgage broker as a profession? she was the political groupie of the night, fishnet tights and all. didn't feel so obvious after meeting her.

The morning after

Well hope you enjoyed the Catalyst program & maybe learnt something about desire, dating and flirtation. Here's my summary.

Once you like the look of them, do a 4 minute eye stare, this developes intimacy. Take date to an amusement park, start on whimpy rides - finish on scary tumbling rides - this encourage libido and adrenaline. Then do a big sniff of their body odor - like or repell ? your nose will tell you if it's a good match, as much as your eyes & brain. Or as the show concluded, it's actually quite simple, when you meet them, you just like them. All the other brain chemical stuff is a dissection of all that goes on. The body does a lot to make life simple for us.

On my dating front, I got a text message from Mr Balcony View just before the show.
'I am looking forward to tonights show'
Because I just got a new phone (go three!) had lost all contacts and didnt' know who it was..so had to do the 'who is this' reply. Quelle shock when he texted back his name.
He's been invited to a gig tonight..wonder if he'll come.

review in The Age

"But it's Catriona's lambada training that evinces the most dramatic results: a key that unlocks her body language and turns her into a successful serial flirt overnight."

Article in The Age about tonight's program.

The show is on this week

The Catalyst show is on this week.

ABC. 8PM
Thursday March 22

another reason why I shouldnt' have been away at the silence retreat.

update: I've now seen the promos..quite horrifying. The filming was fun, but not this part, the edited results. I agreed to the ordeal because the ABC is a quality channel, so hopefully there won't be any sensationalised attempts to depict any of us badly. Think I may have done that by myself!

So if anyone does see it & have any questions about the show...just leave a comment. ! my own Q&A.

cheers, cat

fully sick

In Aussie hip-hop language, 'fully sick' , is an expression of amazement. In Cat's language 'fully sick' means I have a terrible head cold, and it's 32 Deg today.

The times are strange, my friend. Something is brewing.

I was meant to be on a 10day silence retreat (virpassana) starting Wednesday, but I was asked to be a Godmother in tomorrow's ceremony - Saturday 17th. Work has also exploded so best I'm here. My friend Liz was meant to be in Tasmania climbing mountains but her work has delayed that plan.

There are numerous invitations on the calender, The Christening , A Liberal Party function (you much understand, I have a crush on Josh, from The West Wing, so I think I'm living out those fantasies) and an Army friends' 40th. Next weekend is the state election as well as a Howard Jones concert. I would have been silently sitting in the Mountains, but fate has put me in Sydney for this time.

now, back to the couch, the tissue box, cold tablets & old episodes of the West Wing. Must get fully better by tomorrow.

freaky activites

I haven't really gone into the esoteric side of this bloke search. All the psychic stuff, the cards, mantras, wish boxes, crystals, feng shui....all the freaky deak stuff.

let me scare you a little..!

I saw two psychic's around the New Year. The first was Tarot, which cost $50, the second came to the holiday house, I think she was $80. This year is all good, with business and love all there...it felt good to hear positive stuff.

Each week I listen to radio programs, via the internet, on positive thinking, angel therapy & trusting your vibes on Hayhouse

I've watched 'The Secret' and 'What the Bleep' two DVD's on positive thoughts.

I've read Paulo Coelho (the alchemist & others), Erkhart Tolle 'The Power of Now' and regulary dip into Alain de Botton's 'The Consolations of Philosophy'

Then there's the astrology. Mystic Medusa is my favourite. I subscribe to her daily astro raves (a bargain at $2.50 a month). Her books 'Soul Mating' and 'Astro Guide' are invaluable for assessing a potential love interest.

Valentines Day I spent with Jessica Adams & the launch of her new book, Astrolove, and a talk on your Venus Sign (mine is in leo)

When in doubt (on a daily basis!) I consult on-line oracles, like Mystic's and Linda Hill's The Sabian Symbols. These witty or cryptic answers keep me amused and sane.

I have a wish box. Full of things that symbolise partnerships and love. It's covered in dust now.

The weekly flowers for the feng-shui love corner has been ditched due to disinterest.

Crystals bore me. I can't emote to a stone. It reminds me of the pet rock I used to have complete with stick-on buggle eyes.

I stopped meditating when the iPod was stolen.

What's left is this blog. My on-line friend. A little like a special invisible friend, who doesnt' talk back much, but allows me to rave on while sipping red wine in my nightie. good times.

Wish List

Just to prove, mostly to myself, that I'm not fussy, just haven't' met the right person, here's a list of What I want.

Someone who's

1. Real not Perfect
2. Loves his Job - but leaves it behind when he gets home
3. Likes 80's music
4. Taller than me (a few inches at least..I'm 5ft 61/2" - 168 cms)
5. Smiles easily
6. Chatty & Intelligent
7. Likes Swimming
8. Active
9. Can cook
10. Eats meat & drinks red wine
11. Evolved...ie. has worked on himself
12. more day than night person
13. can talk and drive
14. Fascinated by me.. (!)

Someone had 25 points on their wish list..I've only got 14. There is so much that's flexible. At one stage I wanted a bloke with darker skin. I'm the whitest person next to Nicole Kidman; so wanted to breed out my white skin. But don't care about that now... sun screen lotions have improved and all that.

No mention of physique - but hard to describe precisely...not too chubby, not too scrawny, but I like swimmers & active blokes, then it generally works out I like their bodies.

but really I've just described myself..am I looking for a male version of me??

Out There

When you talk to coupled people, explain your singleness & just to humour it along, because being single is just a huge joke, you ask them how they met each other. IIt usually is a series of meetings and discoveries until they realised it was pretty good & they did all the serious stuff to become a couple. So you ask them some advice & inevitably the phrase 'you just have to be Out There' pops up.

yep, Out There..

In the big bad world the coupled people left behind about 3, 7, 12, 23 yrs ago. And they haven't been back since, so they tell you 'get Out There'. Well I haven't left 'Out There' since I arrived here about 19 yrs ago, ever since I discovered blue cocktails & flashing dance floors. The drinks have changed colour & the floors no longer light up, or bounce as you dance on them. Dancing is now a home activity, taken on saturday nights in pyjamas.

And in the Out There world, you try all sorts of things to meet someone. Now the coupled people get interested: see they've read about the activities of being single in weekend news magazines. There is internet dating, speed dating, make-overs & compatability tests. So I explain all the things I've done.

* Internet dating -on RSVP.com.au
* Speed Dating - via Fast Impressions & the cheaper alternative Fast Date
* Speed Dinners

then everyday flirting involves..
* Chatting to random people in a pub
* Being friendly to barista's & greengrocers & bar staff
* Checking blokes out...cafes, train stations, in cars at lights.

then using traditional methods
* friends, family & work
* Recommendations via friends
* Blind Dates
* Attending every party/ bottle opening that anyone ever puts on. 'cos you never know who you will meet.

Joining Sports clubs/ political parties/ evening classes/ returning to Uni

(swimming clubs/touch footy/ gyms/ liberal party (maybe should try labor party?)/ painting/ french & italian classes/ back for another degree)

Travelling overseas by myself/ meeting up with friends overseas/ Working overseas

Yep, I've been Out There.

So eventually I went on a science show to improve what I thought must be a fault. Let Science show me the way!!

drat. still single.

Carriage F for Feral

This email came from a great friend, Tina, after visiting friends near Gunnedah, NSW. 8 hours by rail from Sydney. A perfect example of the great fun you can have with other people's children & the enjoyement of getting away from the city.

"I’m in carriage F, seat 31 (but have temporarily hijacked 45/46 as it’s near the power point for the laptop). F stands for Ferals. It’s what you get when you can’t afford ‘first class’ or better the no-discount local airline or even better your own car, let alone the 3 tanks of petrol it takes to get there and back.

The woman who sat opposite me in the original seat only seems capable of scowling at her delightful brood of four boys. They’ve all got thick streaks of blonde bands down the middle of their hair, like a pack of jackals. She told ‘Roady’ (named after Roald Dahl perhaps?) that she’d smack his face in if he woke her up again. However, the little one seemed most disconcerted when the train temporarily moved at Werris Creek to realign carriages and mum had gone out for a smoke. Every kid wants his mum it would seem. Just as I’m being incredibly pretentious one of the jackals comes and gives me my lunch – he’s helping out the man at the buffet car. I take it all back. I offer my inedible bread role to the old couple next to me (in the new position that is) and she says thank you missy!

I put Natalie Merchant’s Orphelia into gear and I float into another world. Not far enough not to notice that the man in front of me is reading his wife’s New Idea. He seems to spending an inordinate amount of time reading about Nic and Keith’s ‘secret’ hideaway. I thought you just looked at the pictures. And I thought secret meant secret. There’s obviously a lot that my university education isn’t teaching me.

The trip to the farm was a great tonic. I haven’t been there for 17 months and I really miss the open space and the kids. It was Pippy who rang to ask when I was going to visit her in the voice perfected for twisting Aunty around her little finger. Why is that I manage to resist most male pleas (actually all) and other adults’ reasonable requests but I turn to jelly when a little screamer calls me? Completely irrational. I managed to get a ride up with Sarah’s husband last Thursday but am slumming it on the way back. The Sydney cousins were up and eight kids built ‘Aunty Tina’s Kitchen’ with a banner that said ‘Aunty Tina’s Kitchen’ (maybe I’m destined to open a roadside diner?) and ovens, sinks, indeed the whole kit n’ caboodle. They had made me mud slice and mud cakes with sprinklings of charcoal for icing which were delicious. The girls are into horses these days, which consumes them when they’re not building Aunty Tina’s kitchen. I played soccer with the boys and demonstrated how pathetically unfit I am. I danced to the Best of Abba and Hits for Kids with the littlies and ate enough pikelets to last until the 2010s.

Every morning I did my pilgrimage to the top of the farm with views across the whole district and beyond. There’s something about the open space and the vast Piliga scrub behind the farm that I find compelling. At night the sky is filled with stars which you forget exist living in the city. The birds are different on the farm – there seem to be a plethora of parrot varieties in bright turquoise, reds, yellows and brilliant lime green that dart past, never giving me the chance to take a good look at them. The cattle always seem to be interested in human company and if you stand still enough a whole mob will come up and lick you (I walk on before it gets to that stage!). Fortunately they’ve received rain and the wheat crop was a reassuring emerald green."

Tables Turned

Ever since I turned 35, the media articles on womens' fertilty have been relentless. I feel haunted by my age & dare not tell anyone...'oh 35 are you ...not much time left dear..." The idea we only have 10% fertlity left, the worry of abnormalities & the stress on our ageing bodies. Let alone if we are single & have no time left to find a mate & start pro-creating.

The catch phrase 'biological clock' sends me into a frenzy of frustration. So much emphasis on the women's side of things. Where is the pressure on men.?..they seem to be lounging around waiting for some 27yr old to come dancing into their lives, ready to settle them, if they feel like it. There is a myth that men don't have this pressure. Once fertile, always fertile for them.

Finally, reading US Elle / March 2007, quoting a book by Harry Fisch MD -' The Male Biological Clock' ...here was the phrase men need to hear.. 'I'd always considered fertility a women's hassle...the guy is the culprit in 40% of cases.. (also) men have proven to be the causal factor in half the cases where both partners are over 35.' Mens' fertlity drops just as womens' does. In fact at 30, men begin andropause, a slow but steady decline in the production of testosterone (rhymes with toblerone) which aids in sperm creation & erections.

The article writer, John Meils, aged 34, has his sperm tested for fertility and worries, too, like women have, if he is fertile & if not & how this may affect his dating life.

Without a shred of schadenfreude I look forward to the balancing of articles in the media. Men are equal contributors to fertility problems, more so if they ignore the reasons why - particulary - age, smoking, weight, alcohol: the usual suspects. Finding a younger partner is not the only answer.