Charity night cont

you long for someone's company, their attention and desire. Why is it, when you have let go, they start contacting?

it was just after midnight when MrBV texts me asking where I was. I'd made a decision to go home. After 5 hours of drinking, on a Thurs night, it was time to leave. 'Should have said goodbye' I texted back.
'Yes you should have'
At this point. After having a 3 year crush on him. After enduring all the silly fantasies I'd harboured, I just couldnt' believe he was worried about where I was.
This was my reponse 'Tough Titties'
'That was harsh' he replied
Time to spell it out ..'I am a contradiciion. Just like you. You are interesting. But you are after one thing & I'm after another. So I left'
'Ok can't argue' he replied. Then another 'you're a good girl
'You are always my friend. That never seems to go away.'
'that's good'. he finished with.

I felt I'd been honest & decided to send him some 80's band info the next day. It was about the friendship now.

Lying in bed, by now, the phone buzzed again. It was 12:40am. Bloody hell, it was TASF! he loves long texts. trying to focus in the dark I had a suspicion of the contents. Yep, he was asking for it, a late night visit, all on his terms. 'but just understand it's not a permanent thing'

So not interested. I was sick of his rude demands. "darls, I have my period"
'don't be silly, sheets can be washed"
"If I'm so desirable, then wait. good night"

He's an ex-lawyer so he loves long text messages. There is not enough space, nor do I have the inclination to post all the crap he said. I was just amazed at the messages. Where were these boys? sitting in bars sending messages, it was almost 1am. Just sad really.

Early the next morning TASF texted again. 'cat, you get the common sense award, good to see you....sorry about high testostorone conduct, you can probably tell I'm still a bit out there... "

I am over both of them. Their behaviour, their texting, it's all too immature and so unfulfilling.

Still can have fun, as friends. They are both coming to my birthday party on June 16th. MrBV emailed the next day. 'count me in for your party'

life; always interesting

Charity Night

It was last Thursday night. Planned for a few weeks; it was a group of us, including TCPP & MrBV. The lure was a room full of Sydney's singles drinking for charity. I love getting dressed up & had my hair specially done. I felt just right. Not eager, Not desperate, just ready to enjoy my friends and see what can happen.

It was a high vibe room. Trays of drinks, everyone looking good, even clowns making those balloon animals. Standing back sipping champagne and scanning the room, ever so subtely, we girls decided to 'take a turn about the room' Our Jane Austen excuse for checking the scene, seeing who was there & figuring out where to stand to best take advantage.

MrBV had arrived, he air kissed me & held out his hand as I walked by. He was talking to two chicks in bad shiny dresses so I said hello & catch you later. The rule is you dont' talk to your targets too early on. You wait until they are loosened up and more able to focus just on you.

Several drinks later, the music was amped up. We had our spot & more friends arrived. Mr BV was in deep discussion with a girl I knew had a crush on him & she was giving him dirty looks. I smiled as I walked by and talked to people near him. More manoeveurs laters and he came to talk to me. I called him a 'shit'. I hadn't seen him since January (five months ago) and he didnt' call after the TV show, despite sending a text message saying he was looking forward to it. 'Everyone calls me that' he said. I wasn't really mad, just wanted to get it out. We launched into our usual fun conversations, 80's music, work & holidays.

In a room full of people juicing up everyone shift places and positions like crazed synchronized swimmers. Being slightly inebriated ; conversations change quickly from lack of concentration. I was getting pushed by the crowd and stepped back onto someone, turning to apologise, it was TypeA-SuperFit who I was addressing. "I thought I'd see you here" I said. "I thought I'd see you here' he replied back.

That's when my night compacted. There were really only 3 people in the room. Me, MrBV and TASF.

I wasn't confused. It wasn't about re-igniting old flames, or seeing if they still like me. I know there is a bond & we can laugh and can be friends, but it was figuring out the 'something'. The bit why they are both 'shits' why they like me but do nothing. Right there I had their attention and took my time to speak to both of them, seperately, in the context of happy drunken chit-chat.

TASF is still a post-divorce mess. A high-testostorone women-heat-seeking would-be giggolo. He is heaps of fun, but so determined to have his way. Whereas MrBV is a workaholic socialiser. Equally determined not to be in relationship as it's not part of his plan.

It's a timing thing again. You can meet the right person and it's the wrong time of your life. busy-ness is evil. Acquiring status and security is paramount. Corporate socialising takes care of your personal life.

With all my practice leaving events, on my own timing, I finished my drink, realised the room was starting to empty and with a quick backward glance waved and left.

It's not until you give directions to the taxi driver that drunkeness really starts to appear. As I stomped to the house, my phone buzzed. It was MrBV 'where are you?' 'just got home' I texted back.

to be continued....

almost ready

Dating is a multi pronged game. And like most of life, there is too much choice in the methods.

I would love to do interviews, like a job. Have 40 CV'S and invite them into an interrogation room. have them strip to underwear and turn around, then mix a martini, turn on various household appliance without asking, say 'would you like a foot massage, darling' and mean it, send him to the bathroom and see if he leaves the toilet seat up before finally allowing me to reverse park while he says nothing.

Instead I am contemplating going back on RSVP. So I did a quick seach to see what's on the menu. A strangely familiar face starred back, it was The Coach. Funny reading someone you've dated. Would I have choosen him? probably not!

My profile and photos are all updated. Rather than rush the updates and go back on-line, I'll sit on it for a few days, in case I want to change anything. Also going to a big charity cocktail party on Thursday night...you never know. A room full of singles? like a room full of interviewees.

more miles

"Our greatest heart-treasure is a knowledge that there is in creation an individual to whom our existence is necessary - some one who is part of our life as we are part of theirs, some one in whose life we feel assured our death would leave a gap for a day or two. And who can this be but a husband or wife? Our parents have other children and themselves, our brothers and sisters marry and have lives apart, so with our friends: but one's husband would be different."

'My Brilliant Career' Miles Franklin. 1901. aged 16.

Sometimes you have unformed thoughts and when reading your thought is expressed for you. This happened last night while finishing the above book. The character, Sybylla, doesn't marry the 'hero' and her explanations for that time are modern, to do with not being seen as a man's property, to have a separate existence, and not be tied to eternal child-rearing (in the days of 10+ kids)

Luckily the world is 100 years different, so I don't have to toss over the hero in order to have life. So not to have this heart-treasure of a husband, is, in the words of Bonnie Tyler 'It's a heart-ache, nothing but a heartache'


ah, I make myself laugh sometimes with this blog..

A breakthrough

It seems women organise everything. From pub nights, movies, dinners and at home parties. Rarely do we get emails from our bloke friends organising something & if we do it's so last minute, ie. 1pm on a sunday for drinks, that you feel like ripping out your hair.
Give me something to look forward too! don't call last minute! organise something you drip-heads!

For example, Phil is called TwoChipPacketPhil (TCPP) The last BBQ he organised, was all BYO, from food to alcohol, he had only 2 chip packets open on the table. I had a drunken word in his ear a few months ago about reciprocation, organising things and the dreaded unpersonal last minute group email.

The Secret, my friends, is not a DVD, its telling blokes how to behave. My long rant to TCPP, has gained clear results. Invites to cocktail parties, well in advance; Drinks at nice pubs with interesting people and actual phone calls, not emails. How nice. We all had the best conversations last time, from dating, flirting and how to tell if someone likes you (guess who was the expert? moi) . everyone joined in. It was the nicest Sunday afternoon for a long time.

These are all MrBV's friends. I havent' seen him since January. I'll see him in a few weeks at the charity cocktail party TCPP organised.

The other benefit? I would recommend TCPP and his good friends to single friends, as good eggs.

If I knew

If I knew when I would meet 'the love of my life' then I could relax. But every psychic has said 'he's just around the corner or in the next few months' so I get all hyped up, expectantly seek the connection with all new arrivals & watch as it all fades to nothing.

Just tell me when. Tell me the truth! I want to say. If it's not for another 5 years, then, sayonara to this rabbit hole & hello to a new cubby house in another world. Teach opening champagne bottles to 3rd world waiters ! run an illegal boarding house in Fiji! catch fish in Greenland !

I'd love to take a sabbatical from this dating fiasco. My entire life is geared to preening, watching, observing, trying and hoping it will be over soon (my single life, that is) I'm exhausted!!

I went to a party on the weekend, by circumstance I went by myself, thinking I have the social skills to get around and I thought I'd know enough people. It was a swamp of gay men and married people. I felt like yelling "who's single here? come and talk to me!!" The party represented one of those 'best opportunities' for meeting someone. ie. it was a private, friends' party so you can talk to anyone, you know they are from a certain background/ professional group and more likely to be of interest to you.

One thing I've learnt, cut your losses. So I left after the speeches, snuck out the door and with some sorrow, walked slowly back to the car, re-assuring myself I did everything I could, he just wasn't there. I do hate having to judge an event on the dating sucess rate, but that's my life.

Response to 'Spewing'

"The demons are shouting down the greater angels in my head"

Toby to Barlett. The West Wing. Season 1. Ep. 4.

I call that negative voice in my head 'The Knocker' it puts down or damages my sense of fun. Luckily I have Seasons 1 & 2 of The West Wing to bring me joy.

spewing for a bit

Please don't be alarmed by this post....but I do have to balance this blog sometimes. I'm going to spew out some thoughts..but it's just for my needs..

I want to enjoy my age and my life. I hate that birthdays are seen as negative but we are all seeking wisdom, inner peace and fulfilment. We have to age to get there. It's like you loose by getting older? you haven't achieved ' insert x thing' by a certain age, you are compared to your peers or siblings or elders at same age & you come out the loser.

My rantings will come off as 'bitter' whereas a younger person it's 'youth, energy, drive and immaturity' I don't' feel any different from 16 or 24 or 32. I know most people feel the same, the cheeky teenager, uncertain student or rebellious flat-mate is still submerged in your skin.

But I do have failings, I do have insecurities, regrets, suicidal thoughts, overwhelming resignations, tears and general malaise over my life on some days, at certain times & after external events. Sunday mornings can be hard (see post below) Invitations to christenings or weddings are challenging. Putting on the 'face' & trying to blend in. I now feel a huge gap between my life and the lives of family and friends. Like I'm pushing a tricycle and they are thundering ahead, blowing dust in their six-horse carriages. It's not about 'progressing' but 'experiencing' things. I want to experience a greater range of emotions than what I have already...seemingly stuck on a well-trampled course.

Emotions of partnerships, my own family, building homes and lives together, planning holidays, complaining about toilet seats, timetabling sporting matches, just being exhausted by things other than doing BAS statements and taking calls from phone companies.

Time is torturing my sense of balance. I want to be logical and sensible and reasonable about my life. That I've done nothing 'wrong' to be single is something I am questioning. You can be too passive seeking what you really want.

Desperation is a word I've avoided, like land mines in my path. But the Despos Wall of Time is something I've walked into & it's knocked me down. My panic button has been pressed.

Okay so there is all is , the ugly stuff, the self-pity and frustration.

I just want to get married, have babies and grow herbs and vegies while listening to 80's music. Being a modern woman is acknowledging this as valid and attractive.

Feathers

In Catholism, an angel appeared before Mary and told her she was with child, etc. There's quite a bit about Angels in Christianity and you pray to Saints, believe the Holy Spirit sits with God and Jesus rose from the dead. There's much new-age in religion and yet when new-age people discuss Angels it seems skeptical and foreign. You can't please a Catholic.

Listening to Doreen Virtue, an angel expert, talk about them she mentioned that FEATHERS are a sign of an angel present and your wishes are being heard and attended to. Like finding a 4-leaf clover or seeing rainbows. I started noticing a few feathers about the place and kindly thought there's an angel present who's listening to my wishes (for a big bedroom romp!).. I wonder how many feathers I need to see before it happens?

Took myself to Centennial park for Sunday morning lie around with papers and pastries. Masses of feathers everywhere. I suppose it's contextual. Where the feathers are, not the amount. Being next to a pack of ducks and geese is not feather significant. Come to think of it, my doona is full of feathers ! no bloody use at all !

Urgency

"It's been fun hanging out with you, but to find the right way to say this, I haven't felt any URGENCY to keep going. You know it's not personal, you're a great person and all, but that' s the factor for me, and the only way to describe why I haven't called, is that reason."

I admired his interpretation of the great dilemma. How do you know when you are with the right person? what criteria do you use to discern the importance of the current date and time afterwards? How much effort to expend? Who are they to you? Friends, acquaintance or lover.

The Coach hasn't called and I'm realising it's not URGENT. The quote above was from another relationship, a few years ago, but The Coach or I could say that to each other now.

I meet eligible blokes all the time. Kind, interesting, good jobs, totallly ready for a relationship, but not with me, or me with them. Urgency is the starter motor

(also have that Foreigner song in my head ' urgent, urgent, emergency')

Sundays

My cheery optimism that life will get better slips a little on Sunday mornings. Mondays are not a problem. Going to work is something to do. Something meaningful and distracting. In fact I can't sleep in on Sundays. I was awake at 6am. Weekdays I keep pressing the snooze and force the covers off.

The weekend is a reminder of my personal pergatory. My boring single life.

I don't want to moan and complain. So many times I've switched off the brain, got into gym outfit, my cossie or yoga pants and exercised the morning away. Cooked for lunch and looked forward to afternoon naps. It feels hollow. All this time and space to do anything you want.

I can be self-occupying. I love my own company and of others. But life is about sharing, having purpose and meaning. I spend my working life being self-directed. Writing lists, tasks and planning the day. The weekend is meant to be the opposite, the antidote to work. More about play and rest and the personal, including personal obligations, such a family and friends outtings.

Sunday mornings is when it all hits. I can do Saturday nights at home. A few glasses of red, tucked up on the couch, and with 2 seasons worth of The West Wing to get through, I'm supremely self-occupied.

This morning it was too quiet. There's no-one there. The inside me wants a cuddle, wants a hand to flop over my waist, to feel the warmth or hairiness of another being. Wants a reason to stay in bed and enjoy the quiet.

full moon full on stuff

ah! what a weird 12 hours !

The full moon in scorpio produced full on doozy 3D surround sound dreams. Earlier that night I had to quell a small desire to call MrBV, which I did by enjoying the warm autumn evening, sipping a strong Vodka Tonic, while writing a short story for a friends' 40th, all about her first vomit. I'm such a good friend.

Well guess who emailed me the next day? after a 3month gap, MrBV. We emailed about music gigs - The next retro 80's concerts and Sneaky Sound System, a hip Sydney band. Nothing was planned. I might do something later, but he's just the same. Contact is all over the place, never plans a thing, never asks specifically to go out somewhere. I still like him of course.

Liz called in the afternoon, I answered the phone 'Champagne!' fits of laughter ensued, she was calling to organise exactly that. "meet me at The Clock in an hour!' she said. Sitting on the wide wooden verandahs at this lovely old pub, we looked out on the street. Another mild autumn evening. It was one of those super night you have with good friends, we talked about MrBV, The Coach, her current pursuers etc. Went off to order food, Liz was texting some paramour. Came back, no handbag. In that flash, a local junkie had seized that moment to take my handbag. Security ran outside, managers were alerted, the video tapes were examined. People near us all recalled seeing a dodgy looking bloke in a tracksuit...but not the actual snatching moment. All I had was my phone and my current ideas notebook.

As we all know it's not about the cash in the wallet, it's the keys, id, credit cards and make-up, plus snotty tissues and diary notes. Ha! they stole the worst credit card in sydney... no use at all!

So I'm looking out the office at my car, sitting there, we are trying to find the spare keys. Later today I'll go down to the Police station with my passport and report the bits and pieces.

In these moments I think of who you call in such a situation, who will provide the umbridge, the succour to your situation? is this a litmus test of a relationship? The Coach or MrBV? neither at this stage. ... maybe I'll email both and see what happens.

Robbery Update

Remember this night? 12 hours of Everything.

Well the Police just called. My iPod has just been recovered from a Pawn Shop. Oh, joy and happiness! just pays to have your name & number engraved on the back. Working on home insurance too.