sticking point

I don't think about relationships all day, only here, my 30 min zone for these thoughts. So last night's brain doodle was, what characteristic would the right man have for me ?

And it comes down to morals...as apposed to being conservative...because some good people don't stand up for what's right. But the courage to know when something is wrong and call it. Silence is not an alternative to strength. I prefer Atticus Finch or James Stewart to Tom Cruise. Morals are attractive. Clarity in confusion is attractive.

Someone who has a charity side, a sense of family, kindness to friends in need, but knows when to speak plainly. I actually think it's the best way to live life. To be kind, generous and to accept the mistakes of others and of yourself

The facades of bravado in a man are transparent to me. Just by speaking louder or bossing people around is not leadership. Letting people be hysterical for a bit and then calming them through logic is more attractive. Hard decisions are also respected.

I want a man I respect. Who takes responsibility for his place in the world and what it may chuck at him.

Years ago I watched a documentary on the Lloyd's Names. During a particularly bad insurance run in the early 90's they had to pay, not the reverse. This caused the financial downfall of many and forced the sale of family estates, cut backs in livelihood & for many with inherited wealth, they didn't have the knowledge to build it back again. Sad for history, but that is what history is about.

It focused on a dapper, well kept gentleman in his 60's with that leanness that comes from a good life and health, he walked into a sweet terrace house while flashbacks showed a much grander residence, lost in the Lloyd's payment. He sat at his antique desk, surrounded by photos in silver frames, and stated..."Well I built it up once, I can build it up again"

In other words, bad luck happened, but my skills are still intact.

In the confusion of men's role these days, I find the facets I admire are timeless. Courage, morality, intelligence and being indefatigable.

single comfort factor

As I prepared for my birthday cocktail party, I was happy to organise, create and set-up the list of drinks, ingredients, decorations, guest list and music. Knowing my friends would all pitch in and help with various foods and mixers, although I was providing the bulk of the goods, I felt utterly complete.

yes, I'd love to hire a waiter or barman or buy a case of french bubbles, however, I hope that I gave my friends a good night out. Certainly the dog, Calypso, had a good time. She slunk up to everyone and was thoroughly adored. Like me, she has a hard time knowing when to say good night.

Mr Enthusiastic wanted to stay over & Calypso acted as both chaperon and contraceptive. My dog is becoming more useful daily.

My life is not complete, yet, and I have grand plans for the rest of the year, but the aching need for someone else has disappeared. Mr E is sweet and Mystery Man is a true friend, but not worth all my time. My alone time is so enjoyable. Do you have that feeling? the house is empty...you can play your music, the only mess is yours and you have mess amnesia for that, a bit like can't smell my own fart-itis.

Some people panic without structure, order, a certain amount in the bank...but not me. Am I an internal hippie? I don't need perfection, either for my physical or economic means. I like to treat people right, be empathetic, kind, & I detest a locked in mind.

People ask me why the dishwasher still isn't fixed, or the rip in the couch, or the curtains still unlined, and the real truth is lack of money, but the house is arranged for living. Everything is in a good position, the magazines are tempting, the sun shines on the outdoor cane lounges and everyone is relaxed. And the dog is a bonus.

I just want to get my plans up and running...maybe self fulfillment is what I've discovered.

Reverse underpants theory

Those nights when you are waxed, smoothed, oiled, tanned, glowing, boobs are in alignment and your underpants are matching. Not just matching, but they snap and fit perfectly, no lines, no bulges... you actually look like a burlesque performer, right before the last scene when she does something with a harmonica and a feather.

That's the night you thump in the door, crash without taking off makeup and sleep face down so both pillow and your face resemble a used tissue.

The next time you go out you're like a bank that just lost it's Triple A credit rating. A little less shiny & some corners need to be cut. It's jeans not a dress, it's comfort shoes not stilettos' and it's the reliable undies and bra. The kind that was not made to match. The bra is from the t-shirt range, comfortable, no wires and doesn't make you sit so upright. The undies came in a pack & you bought them, not only for the hygienic cotton element but the fun retro pattern.

That's the night you are less witty, more humble, less hair-flicking, as it's tied like a sideways sitting pony & your makeup is basic. No magic concealers, bronzer or make up primer. Just a slap of this and that.

Getting all dressed up seems like too much of an effort. More fun to sit back and watch others try their hardest. You take a position on the couch or table, and let others do the manoeuvring, you just sit and chat normally. Then a strange thing happens. You become the centre of the night. By sitting still you are the home base, the place of retreat from the hectic mating dance.

Conversations develop, jokes become intertwined with the evenings activities and you don't' care about bad lighting or elbows on the table. It becomes slightly conspiratorial as you spend more time with the witty boys and not the pretty boys.

Out of the laughter and confessional conversation your prime light is ignited. Witty Boy no. 2 goes home and Witty Boy no.1 stays on. Body heat increases along with alcohol consumption, but it's not a race, it's a prop. It keeps you sitting there longer, only when both glasses are empty will you break the seal and go home. Pretty Girl No. 1 breaks that moment for you. She's exhausted herself flirting and her feet hurt. She sits down with you & tries to talk. You get her a glass of water and she's asleep on the couch by the time you return. Witty Boy no 1 adjusts her dress as she sleeps: an exposed drunk girl is no porn for anyone.

Lights on, the pub is closing. Just when you can smell his skin and see the lashes on his lower lids. Your eyes look at him in pieces. Top lip, bottom lip, jaw, ears, hair line, lashes and then down to his neck and chest. Strangely you can have an excellent conversation about American politics at the same time as this eye fondle.

Drunk girl is awake and searching for all her accessories - phone, bag, lipstick and left shoe. Which she was sitting on. We help her into a cab are we are now alone, on the footpath with the night air snapping our thoughts into some decision making. That's when you realise you are wearing the wrong underwear. No matter, he's wearing a very tatty t shirt and jeans. His will be worse.

note: reverse underpants theory also works with 'got my period' and 'my legs are hairy'

I don't know anymore

Louise and I were talking about her latest...she likes him despite herself, he's not as good looking as she likes, he's not as well dressed, but he's intelligent, kind and a good root. Her thing is she's not looking to get married, it's only 1.5 years since the separation and it's just time to have fun.

As she talked more, it appeared she is going to find it hard to say goodbye to him, he's leaving for another state. "Do you really like him?" 'I do, but" we both sat there, mouths moved to say something, eyes blinking just a bit too hard. There was no absolute answer. Any definite statement felt wrong.

"I don't know anymore" she said.

We can no longer convince ourselves about someone, no longer interested in taking a position. In one way its about backing a non- outcome. Hopes are not pinned to anything.

I do know one thing. I can't settle. It's has to feel like I'd change my life for this person. Like my new dog, Calypso. She's just sweet and naughty and cuddly and she's worth being a dog owner. I really have the best dog. Can't believe how easy it's been to have her around. That's how it should feel.

some changes

I'm sitting here typing sideways. I have a puppy asleep on my lap. After a week of decision making and a few months of other decisions, I have my very own dog. She's 20 weeks old & a 'spoodle' yes, that a cross between a spaniel and a poodle.

I've named her Calypso after a character in The Camomile Lawn by Mary Wesley. Calypso was beautiful but naughty. This Calypso is not naughty yet. All shoes have been put away & she's not showing any chewing tendencies yet...yet.

She's not my substitute child, she's just a dog & I'm trying to grow up and be responsible for something. Which is a big deal for me... all the freedoms I have, my work, my lack of other responsibilities (except the m-word - mortgage) means I didn't feel I was contributing or sharing with other people. Dogs make you share. You talk about them, take them for walks and then you pick up their poos. Grown up stuff!

Enough about the dog & I swear I this won't turn into a dog lovers site..it's still all about me (a great place to be)

A couple of things have happened.

When it rains it pours and all that. Saturday night 20 of us saw Sex and the City. We had champers before and after the film, then I pashed Mr Enthusiastic after the 5th bottle of bubbles & he came to mine for sleep-over...all clothes on & a good nights sleep.

yes I felt bad...why did I do that...because. He's fun to be around, makes me feel instantly happy & I don't worry about him (*ouch* sitting sideways & typing is hard!) the worry that you are responsible for their good times. I'm like that...I worry that people are not having a good time & must entertain.

The next morning he left early & walked home...although this is where I can genuinely worry as he has no sense of direction... He texted to say he has something to tell me and can we meet at 5pm the next day for a drink.

the old 'something to say' moment. I could agonise. I could be defensive. I could guess ?

He loves me, he doesn't, he doesn't want a relationship right now, sorry to lead you on, you're wonderful, but.., you deserve someone better...

all those thoughts.
He needed a few beers to tell me. The second part I can't say here...suffice to say it's a body issue thing, not permanent but just a personal thing. You respect I can't it say here.

he said....he does really like me.. wow. He could fall for me. okay.

This is where the long dating history starts to be useful. I've had this happen before. A very attentive bloke pleaded with me to love him. He's was such a puppy and I just gave in. Hard when it ended because I feel like I was talked in it.

If I fall for Mr Enthusiastic it will not by via convincing myself. And it's not going to happen straight away. It takes a while to rid yourself of thoughts of anyone else and any ongoing liaison I may have (with MysteryMan). But it may happen and I'll tell you why.

He's just so open, emotionally. He tells me his thoughts, not necessarily to agree with them, but to express himself, and he accepts that my answers are not exactly like his or align with his views..he just wants to know where I stand. He doesn't tease, or belittle, or argue back, he just shows his thinking and accepts your version, with a little backchat.

I shared my theory that 'dating' is not just about dinners and drinks, it's about walking the dog (yes!) buying groceries, making a meal together and trying to find the new Ikea store. Next weekend I am going to help him put his bed together. He's such a bachelor. The bed is in pieces while he sleeps on the floor.

So when I say I want to take this slowly, I do. I can & just hang out with him.

But a least he's trying and I respect that.

Now, off to walk Calypso.

No Booty Calls !

I sent this video to TypeASuperFit.

two down

The Traveller is travelling again & with all his family responsibilities (two sons, a sick mother and suicidal sister) I'm punting on this not being a good time for him.

Mr Enthusiastic told me on Saturday night he wasn't in a good place either. Which was fine with me..I like him as a friend, in fact he is a friend, a great one, but nothing more.

Which leaves Mystery Man. But he's only what he is, a friend, a buddy, an occasional dirty stop-over and excellent dinner companion.

So I read some astro stuff...all about Pluto in Capricorn and how it's affecting Gemini's. It said either I had great soul affecting sex or I went celibate. Either or. The best or nothing. I kind of agree. I realise my desire is very stop start. It could be based on my monthly cycle but it's probably a combination of increased chemicals each month and an actual desire for that person.... and vice versa.

Desire is inconsistent. Some things take precedent, paying bills, talking to friends, ...I don't have time to think or make it happen. It's just not important right now. This might change in a few weeks when the cycle begins again.

Right now a good bottle of champagne, a good night's sleep and a long hot shower are my current pleasures. Just remembered I have some prosciutto in the fridge...how I love that salty meat.. Here's a theme, food as a substitute..!