Mothers Day

I'll tell the last story first. Sunday night, after hosting Mother's Day Lunch, I attended Pangea Day at The Traveller's office. His organisation was holding an event to see this 4 hour broadcast of film. I invited myself and my friend Marilyn (for support). The event had started when I arrived and I sat with Marilyn. It was a fully catered for event, with waiters passing food and drinks. We got tucked into the champagne. Charity and champagne go together, yeah?

Once settled, I saw The Traveller sitting in another part of the room. But this is not the story I'll be telling right now. So I'll fast forward to the end.

Marilyn and I were the last to leave (we're good at that) and went for another drink and some food at a pub near her place. We shared stories about the night and I took her home, almost.

Two streets from her place a Police car flashed his headlight at me. I couldn't think why. Then turned the corner and realised my headlights weren't on, only to see the Police car, full lights on, behind me. I pulled over.

"You were driving without your headlights' he said. "Have you been drinking? " he asked.

"Yes", I replied, " I've had a few champagnes " Marilyn started telling them were we'd been..unfortunately she was quite drunk and slurry, so this alarmed the officer.

'We'd like to breath test you" he said, "but we don't have a breath analyser here. We're calling for one to be brought over. Would you mind waiting here"

It took about 15 mins for the machine to arrive. I thought of all the champagnes I'd drunk that night & knew I wasn't' bad, but wasn't good. Still sitting in the car, I blew into the machine. They conferred and said I was over the limit ( .05 ). Shit.Fuck.

Get out of the vehicle, he said. 'We are arresting you for drink driving"

Marilyn was trying to ask them for my reading. But they wouldn't give it. Maybe because she was wobbling on the footpath.

We're taking you to the station for a further reading. They called for a paddy wagon.

Why not in a police car ? I asked. Procedure.

The paddy wagon was running late because they were taking prisoners in it.

I had to remove my belt, take only my essentials. I took all my jewellery off and placed it my handbag, then in the boot. I had my phone, my credit card and some cash.

When the wagon arrived a female office had to search me, then I got into the back.

Have you ever envisage what it's like in a paddy wagon ? I thought it was metal with two bench seats. This one was like a fridge. All white fiberglass and two benches, front and back. Slits for windows and a strong gust of air from the front. The seats were only 10cms high. I wedged my feet against the front and placed my hands on the space next to me. There were no seat belts, no handles. I thought of the last passengers, the prisoners.

I would have taken a photo, but they had my phone. How would that look on facebook?

The wagon drove to Waverly Police Station where they have a more accurate machine for breathe testing.

I could see via the front window the car driving into a garage. I was entering via the prisoner’s entrance. When it stopped I could see them all standing outside. When the door opened I was lead, not touched, to the ‘holding dock’ until the machine was ready.

The holding dock was like a clear phone box, with one bench seat. The whole front was clear Perspex and I faced the main desk, on which lay my personal things. I saw them fill out forms, check details and discuss me, while I sat behind plastic examining all the scratch marks and shoe marks on the walls.

I wanted my phone. I wanted to call people, go on-line, distract myself from reality.

I envisage myself from the outside. Me sitting there in a blazer, jeans and dress shoes. Two hours ago I was in the boardroom of a top 5 law firm, enjoying their hospitality while watching a program on world peace issues. Ah, juxtaposition.

Should I do star jumps ? get the blood moving and get the alcohol out of my system? What if the next reading is also over. I was arrested for being over the limit, DUI – driving under the influence is the code. However, I had to take another test, with a more accurate machine, before they could charge me. So I was under temporary arrest, pending the results of the next test.

Procedure continued with my rights being read, forms to sign and questions to answer.

They I was lead into the testing room.

“Can I use the bathroom?” I had drunk a lot of water while waiting in the car.

“No, not until after the test”

Two officers sat in a room, one taking notes and another setting up the machine. It was taking a long time.

“You’re coming down’ said the Detective Inspector “ and it’s to your advantage that this takes time to test you. If this reading is under, then you are free to go home. We will drive you back to your car “ I chatted to them about Pangea Day, for two reasons, one to show I wasn’t that drunk and two, I believe charm and good manners go a long way.

More time passed, more forms, more people coming through. I was first tested at 10:30pm. I was now 12:10am.

"Your first reading was .067"

They could take as long as they liked.

The machine was ready. It was a three part machine with printer, dials, led display and a cash register ticket thing. I liked it’s 1970 IBM look. Old technology was comforting me.

I blew. It beeped, whirred and chugged out paper.

The testing office looked at the results, turned to me and stuck out his hand. We shook. I knew what that meant. The reading was .04. My road side reading was .067. The D.I. said they get regularly abused by the public while waiting for the test.

My things were returned.

I quickly texted Marilyn “I’m free! They are driving me back. I have a certificate to prove my sobriety. God what an experience ! Now stop laughing and go to sleep” time: 1.10am

I ‘m horrified at what happened. But I’m sobered by the experience. And truthfully, I’ve driven DUI and could have not blown under both times. I just didn’t get stopped.

updates

Friday (yesterday) was a public holiday as Sydney is hosting a political conference, APEC. So much for lying around relaxing. Louise has just moved & needed her TV & Internet hooked up. I'm the tech friend, the one who knows how to put plugs back together. Darling Louise was divorced last year & has her two girls to support on a teacher's salary. I walked into her flat & she was in tears. The enormity of her decision and current life had hit her, as often does when you finally stop after much change. She's the strongest most kind hearted friend, always makes me laugh & has feed me many times over the years.

It took a few hours to hook everything up. We talked about everything, naturally, while having cups of tea, deciding where things should go & wondering why we have so many things. My joy came from helping her & having a good laugh at our lives. Neither of us can understand how we got here. She, living in a 2 bed flat with sprayed concrete ceilings & her two girls, me, stubbornly single, living with my brother & his fiancee.

Then I drove around dropping off clothes and visiting suppliers. 4pm. I took Skye to the airport. After umpteen years she's off around the world after being retrenched recently. It's one of those serendipitous moments. She wanted to leave and travel & suddenly the company closed & she got a pay-out.

Taking someone to the airport always opens up your own travel thoughts. I have no interest in travel as I have so much to do here. There's a new job on the horizon, things to sort at the shop & well, boy stuff to ponder over. Tonight I was scheduled to see Voice Man.

I rang Polly & dropped into hers for a quick catch-up at 6pm. Tiredness suddenly overcame me & then I could smell myself ! I'm minding Marilyn's house & haven't brought enough perfume & was a day late in washing my hair. I felt yuck.

Voice Man was working on a project, despite the public holiday & I just couldn't meet him in my smelly, tired state. I called and cancelled. So we've rain-checked for Tuesday instead....it's like that book, Tuesday's with Morrie... this time it's Tuesdays with Voice Man.

& I proceeded to plow through a bottle of wine and half a pack of ciggies. Two single girls having dinner ! After mobile phone, blogging and tech discussions, we talked relationships & astrology...that chick is so knowledgeable & has the same diverse interest. Technical & spiritual, along with a healthy interest in wine.

Like any half-pissed chicks talking about relationships, I asked her if she had any tarot cards...boy, did she! she collects them ! She did a reading for me & I did one for her (I don't have any skills, I just went with my gut). What did the reading say? all the good stuff... relationships, work, my strengths, but also a focus on 'Integrity'. It's been my word of the week. I realised to have a relationship based on integrity I have to be that myself. To be this is about authenticity, standing up for myself, feeling the pull from the gut about what I want to do & say and who to be with. So half of it is my journey & happy to do so. A goal worth pursuing.

A shift has also occurred with my thoughts on Voice Man. The urgency is gone. That unrealistic pressure you put on yourself about what it all means, and what's happening. It's a relief & I just want to get on with him....to be realistic about who he is, and vice versa.

Mysterious Forces

Hard to explain the exact feeling but there are times in your life when you know things are about to change but you don’t know how. The old way is not working. Things you liked to do are no longer appealing…in a more ‘grown-out-of-it’ way. Even some groups of friends are laborious. ..you suddenly feel a huge disconnect and don’t know why. There is no separation pain from this past pleasures. The bond has magically disappeared and you are left with an easy nothing.

Case in point - a costume birthday party last Saturday night. All the usuals, TCPP, Darren, MrBV. There is nothing I like more than a good dress-up. Mashing up items in my wardrobe to fit the theme is my idea of a good time. Just recently I borrowed a pink wig to attend a party for an hour. I’m more likely to over do it than under.

I had absolutely no interest in going. None in dressing up and not even in having a drink amongst hard drinking friends. I just had a sense of repetition. Of performance rather than genuine participation. So unlike me to want to skip a party! But I wasn’t worried. Spent the night watching bad cable TV with Marilyn.

This week I’m staying at Marilyn’s house. A lovely terrace in Paddington complete with Foxtel and heated bathroom floors. She’s at a health retreat and I’m having a solitary study week (interspersed with outings and visits). So far I’ve done a walk every morning around the local harbourside park, taken text books to the cafe & stayed off Facebook…surprisingly easy as there’s only dial-up here.

What am I studying? business books about social networks & new economics. My brain is firing off at me and ideas are pouring out. I want to get this next job.. the one with the marketing company. So I’m hiding away and absorbing everything possible. Haven’t felt this excited, brain wise, for a long time.

The mysterious forces are linked to this work change. It’s the biggest change to my life since opening the store 4 1/2 years ago. It’s the re-invention of Cat. I only half know where I’m going. The rest will be as it comes.

Blood Moon

Tonight is a lunar eclipse. Will be catching up with Marilyn for a long over due dinner and moon watch.

My neck seized up a few days ago & I’ve had to have baths, massages and currently sitting here with a heat pad around my shoulders. I look like a Thunderbird puppet in motion.

I think champagne will help my muscle….

As for the Moon, it typically makes me all sooky. I usually feel more feminine, in some classic sense, all flowing hair, Grecian gown, walking barefoot on soft grass in the moonlight. I do love standing outdoors in the dark, taking in the moon & letting any thoughts wash over. Sleep is usually filled with myriad images in my dreams.

If anything, I feel like a tide turning, waves coming in, the undertow deep within, the gentle lapping of water at the end and crunchy sand under my toes.

I’ll think of Voice Man, but not in a thinking way, just a emotional way. Let my body talk to me & not my mind, and then accept the results, not have my mind challenge them.

That’s how a full moon is for me..enjoy yours.

Purple Patch

“You’re having a Purple Patch” said a friend recently when I downloaded my week. My cousin used the same word yesterday. It’s freaky when a word starts back in circulation. Which meaning should it take ? A bunch of flowery prose? Purple bits of fabric to enhance my social standing (only if I was a Roman) or a series of events both romantic and life changing that occurs in a cluster.? I’ll use the last one.

Tuesday was ‘Replacing the Rabbit’ day (below)

Wednesday was an interview at a Web company (I’m thinking of changing jobs) and the night was a Web 2.0 debate with the eloquent and knowledgeable Polly.

Thursday was an overhaul of the shop. We changed our whole business plan & this lifted everyones spirits. Nothing like turning your working life around in one go. It was a great day but I was so tired ! Was waylaid by an old friend recently back from overseas for dinner and drinks.

Friday was more work serendipity. The changes of yesterday brought another opportunity through the door. Things were falling into place. That night another attempt at going home early turned into dinner with Petal’s visiting sister, Liz. We had a disagreement over Facebook at dinner. Liz was fining her staff for every hour over the agreed limit on Facebook. One staff was near a $1,000 dollar fine. She runs a PR company & that alone was enough for me to determinedly point out the benefits of allowing staff to network and socialise on Facebook. I’m quite passionate about social networking (like blogs etc) and believe this phase of the Internet, with such dynamic content, is the most interesting. Liz quite liked being stood up to & started confiding all sorts of personal things to me later that night.

Resting all day Saturday in order to pull myself together for Edith’s birthday. I felt like a big fat alcoholic hefer. Marilyn came by in a hire car for the 40 min journey to Edith’s house. We drank a bottle of bubbles in the car & 5 hours later continued drinking on the way home after Edith thrust a ‘traveler’ (a bottle of sparkling shiraz) in our hands.

Oh Lord, what a week ! I finished a cigarette on my balcony at 1am, still sipping the shiraz. I looked out at the lawn. Eight months ago the body corporate taped off the lawn to help the grass. All I could see was restrictions. Sectioning off grass? it’s been months & the grass is fine. I wanted to do something right then about it.

I changed into a large coat, put on a hat, grabbed the kitchen scissors and jumped the wall to the garden. Snipping the plastic tape from every post I dragged it all to the bin. The lawn was free at last ! Jumping back into my apartment I proudly viewed my work.

Several hours later I felt the rush of acid. I had seconds to get to the bathroom, ripped back the toilet seat & shouted down the porcelain line. Managed to brush my teeth after that, somehow.

Who am I ? a 40 year old alcoholic wastoid? No. I’ve had enough of this type of life. Time for an overhaul. Summer is on it’s way. I want to swim, do exercise, stop smoking, reduce the drinking, enjoy my work…. just change a few things ! !

Yesterday I hung out with my favourite cousin, Tash and her two kids. We danced to Elvis, told stories, drank pots of tea and ate cheese and tomato sandwiches. From there was another interview with a prestigious advertising company. There was no specific job on offer, just a recommendation via Edith. The contact person sat down, put her business card on the table. She’s the Managing Director. I took a breath & just told her about my passions, showed the portfolio of work & after an hour she offered me a job.

I’m shit scarred about this job & glad I am. It’s a good sign. Being scared means I care, means I want to try & also means changing my life (from a health perspective) will happen. There’s a few more weeks while we talk about the offer. More people to meet & more work to do. But I want it so badly. I’m scared but excited.

What else can this ‘purple patch’ deliver? seeing Voice Man tonight he’s coming over to cook dinner (love a man who cooks)

Silliness

Silliness is important. You have to jump around, sing badly - but happily, clap out of time & feel exhausted from dancing at the end of the night. I did that twice on the weekend. The first night was expected. Skye, Amanda & I went to an 80's concert at the local workers club. As you can see from the image, they have bad carpet & cheap drinks. Three die-hards were determined to be up the front...thanks, but they're not us.

The line up was Uncanny X-men, The Models, Machinations, Shantoozies & Kids in the Kitchen. All local Australian bands who were 'big in the 80's'. The cost? $20. bargain.

Saturday night was a French film called "I Do'' with Marilyn and Mand. Highly recommended. Afterwards it was time to de-brief our week at the local pub. Bottles of champagne and chips were ordered and the pub was full of various spunks all alternating between watching the Rugby (Aust vs South Africa) and each other (this includes myself)

Mand had lent me 'The Game' by Neill Strauss, about the world of pick-up artists. It took two days to read & I fascinated by the method of picking up in bars. In summary you ask a group or person (who you want to talk to) an opinion question...to settle an argument & then go back to your friends. The idea is you started talking but didn't hang around. Inevitably they will want to talk more, find out the response, etc & then you are all talking.

Edith had arrived by now & in her refreshingly straightforward way, suggested the question to be whether a guy would be freaked out to find his girlfriend was bi-sexual. Interesting, suggestive and controversial.

We stopped one bloke as he walked past, excuse me, we said, we'd like a man's opinion on something...The question was asked (we tried not to burst with laughter) He pursed his lips, said something about how he's from the country & didn't know how to answer. His friends looked at him & started advancing on our table. We soon had all three of them talking to us.

Once the dynamics of the room shifted, it was like a kaleidoscope effect. Everyone started talking to each other. We felt empowered to talk to different groups, in fact people wanted it that way. I was talking to a divine guy from NY, Reid, he had such seductive eyes. Using the 'how old are you really' routine, I asked to see his drivers license. Luckily Edith was there to help me read it, my eyes were a bit wobbly by now. 1976? that made him 31, almost (a libran too)..if only he lived in Sydney, such a nice looking boy. The nine year age difference is still a touchy point with me, but I am learning to let that issue go. Just not interested in flings.

Suddenly closing time arrived & Edith luckily drove me home...I was a little too wound up doing so much social dynamics. It was 3am.

A successful weekend? I've learnt to pick-up, talk to boys, be demanding & still go home intact. There's another 40th this weekend...more games to play? MrBV will be there & TCPP. At one point our social dynamics will form into some kind of relationship; hopefully. I think I'm giving myself the best chance to meet someone, not be shy & not just talk to the chatty dags.