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.

What do you want ?

in a man?

are you specific or general ? do you think too much about what you don't want ?

It's not height or money or occupation or fitness level, but I want a man who takes life by two hands. Doesn't phaff, doesn't hesitate & weigh up the risks while the opportunity passes.

Too often I think of things I don't want , but not enough about what I do want. Time to focus more on the likes & desires.

There are too many boring men in this world. They can be interesting for a few dates, easy to chat but not a good laugher or have a good perspective on life and even...the most telling aspect, have no goals beyond financial security.

So....

Last night I was invited to dinner at a friend's house. One of my best old mates. He and his wife are great cooks, have good wines and every now and then have you over for dinner and you just relax, laugh and ...well, drink a little too much, laugh a bit too much but walk away feeling that's how couples with two kids, good jobs and an organised way to host a dinner are. It's informal, there are dogs and casual clothes, loud moments and plate after plate of good food, which you don't gobble, but take bites of, then stop as you enjoy.

The aim of last night was to introduce me to a recently single friend. Someone I've known but not known, heard of, but not really spent time with. It didn't matter if he wasn't right, the night would be good otherwise.

But it wasn't to be. He walked in, wearing a Paul Smith jacket, carrying a bottle of Grosset champagne (a man with champagne!) and just started telling funny stories, asked me lots of questions, used my name a lot & like me, likes to put on accents and tell stupid stories with no point but to show the stupidity of co-workers or people in supermarkets.

It just felt so comfortable, we all relaxed into a long night of talking & laughing. His favourite film is Ferris Bueller...so is mine. My favourite genre is American teen films like Bring it on, Pretty in Pink etc.

He has two kids, that's how it is...he cooks, he wears nice clothes and he's cute. Tall, lots of dark hair (on his head) and shaves his legs, because he cycles. I think my legs were hairier than his !

So he's off to NY for 3 weeks on Thursday. He blurted out, Can you pick me up from the airport ? (only 10 mins from my house) ..and I like picking people up from airports. It's fun. Travellers are relieved to be home & not have to wait for a cab.

Apparently his ex-wife never picked him up. She missed out on some fun.

We shared a taxi ride home. We pashed in the back of the cab. He asked me what he could bring back from NY for me.. I couldn't think of anything. Any ideas?

10 days off !

After working for 4 weeks, the company is closed until Jan 2nd. I can't tell you how much I've looked forward to this time. After 5 years out of corporate life, the last 4 weeks have been tough on my sleeping-in life and my afternoon nap life and my do-it-when-I-please life. Of course I woke up at 6am on the first day off. My body very quickly realised this was an error and has fallen back into 8am starts instead.

I have a house guest for this time too. Jessica from London who likes snorkeling and swimming. We've hit it off right from the start & have fallen into 4 activities... sleeping, reading, swimming and martini's.

Xmas Eve I had a small drinks party at home. To combat fancy food fatigue I decided to have a sausage sizzle complete with white bread and squeeze bottle sauces. Jessica suggested ducking out for a martini before the guests arrived. Two fabulous martini's from the Water Bar later I was ready to great guests. I love learning new ways to host parties better!


There is that moment in the evening when everyone is sitting around, absorbed, engaged, relaxed. That's my moment, being able to set up the situation for my friends to come together and relax & I love that there were kids, babies, singles and marrieds. My grown up moment....well until I put on 'Do they know it's Christmas " circa 1985 & insisted everyone sing.

As for love : I just feel good about myself. The apartment is feeling more like me, the new job is underway & well, if it's not there then I can't worry.

off to have a swim & think about New year's resolutions.

a breather

So focused on all the things happening that I've not even thought

about my love life for weeks. It's such a relief! This is not a 'no mojo' situation, nor a 'I'm discovering the real me' moment, but just not interested. Especially in the effort department. Happy to talk and flirt but I'm not looking any outcomes.

Friday I was working in the city at my Dad's office. He needs help attaching photos to his emails, that sort of thing. We also argue and laugh a lot. But the effect the city had on me was interesing. I love it's energy, people rushing around, carrying phones and coffee's, women in high heels clacking away & me just soaking it all in.

Being in an office was fun (I'm not mad! ) it was clean & organised & so was the bathroom and kitchen. I am so sick of the shop's mess, it's really disturbing my head.

Anyhoo, meet all sorts of friends at the Opera Bar. It's perched to the side of the Opera House on the harbour. Kind of the best place you could be in Sydney on a Friday night.

I went spastic with the wine and cigarettes, I hassled Skye's boyfriend to behave better & Holly and I were the last in the bar...they were packing the chairs around us. I was so drunk I forgot I had vomited. The bathroom gave the evident away.

Back to being a trash bag. I cleaned the house all weekend, does that count towards redemption?

juggling continues

I'm a whirlpool of men and dating opportunities. There's no panic; just seeing how each date/ conversation pans out. For instance The English Indian (TEI) was interesting for about 2 dates. We played scrabble on Facebook for days ( I won 2/3) we emailed and talked. You know when you are just keeping a conversation going to fill in time? it was that energy.

After having lunch on Monday with TEI, listening to him blab on about his dogs for 20 mins, I had the clunk moment. The 'I'd rather be alone than here with this person' moment.

Type A Super Fit is overseas skiing in New Zealand currently, since he wont' give me a relationship, and now I've mastered the technique of simultaneous dating, I don't need his games....another dating dilemma sorted.

My dating life has now improved with Facebook. Two more old boyfriends are in my network. One is really cute & still single. We've been facebook messaging for a few days now and yet the before 40 Cat would have angled for a drink or catch-up, the After 40 Cat is just happy to converse, keep the intrigue going.

The biggest surprise is the blind Facebook date. A spontaneous message came from a bloke who also wrote 'Church of the Poison Mind' as his religion. There were only two of us in this 'church' according to Facebook. I read his profile, saw a few images & just kept up the messaging. There's a way someone uses language that appeals to me.. the references or usage is interesting or similar. My facebook bloke used the word 'squiffy' for 'get tipsy or drunk' . To me 'squiffy' reminds me of Blackadder. Queenie would ask Blackadder if he wanted to 'get squiffy'. I love this word & his use of it incited many responses culminating in an agreement to meet.

(squiffy becomes sozzled then finally smashed, for those who like to conjugate a verb)

I'll have to call him The Voice Man, because he has that deep mesmerising tone. In fact he did a voice over for a short film at Tropfest. Strangely I had seen it recently and noticed his voice.

Voice Man was leaning against the bench waiting. He was sweeter looking, cuter and warm when I met him. I had to do an cheek kiss, because I wasn't shocked I was delighted he was nicer in the flesh.

We talked non-stop. Drank champagne (he did too!). Liz joined us for a hour, before voicing her approval..and to him when I went to the bathroom. She did the 'my friend is fabulous' in a slightly threatening manner on him, bless her.

Before we knew it the pub was closing. He wanted to walk me to my car, we stopped outside my work & admired the swimsuits in the window, talked more & the lunge happened. I was living in his eyes and had to visit his lips. This pash made me happy...some pashes turn you on, but this was a happy pash. We said good bye & this smile just overtook my face. I think I slept with that smile.

his facebook comment for the next day was Voice Man 'is smiling'

40th Party

In one word it was 'unbelievable'

Starting with the weather, it's been raining here in Sydney for 2 weeks solid. My plan to have an outdoor element to the party was almost safe as we have an outdoor covered area. The day beforehand I bought an outdoor gas heater like they have in cafes.

My friends are scattered over my life, from school, uni, work, family & various friends popping back in & out. One thing is they all know about each other but I've never had them in one place together. I spent the week thinking of comments to connect people... this is Linda, everyone, she wrote the baby list! - And here's my oldest friend, Alison, we used to love men who ended up gay.. those sorts of introductions.

The theme also helped. It was a combination of Russian Winter, fur & hats. Strange how many people have fur in their wardrobes.

All that day friends dropped by to help prepare food (thanks Cass!) clean, arrange and place flowers (thanks Di!) and bring extra man help (thanks Suzy & Adrian!) The rule was to help during the day & leave me to peacefully get ready...none of this early arriving nonsense.

My dress was vintage. Black velvet with blue lurex threads. Shaped with an empire waist & short bell sleeves. Topped with a long vintage Mink coat, my Russian name became eKaterina.

As the guests started arriving we rubbed coats. A few men came in full fur - and I don'' mean on the chest ! . But it was Suzy & Adrian who stunned us all; arriving in all white, they were the Russian Bolshoi Ballet complete with Man Tights and strong blue eyeshadow. Soon after Hunty arrived in his White Man Tights, another stray from the Ballet.

My thing is 80's music. I spent way too much on records in my youth & what was once a waste is now super-cool. Records are a party thing, people can see and choose & select the next track. The hilarity of image records from Bon Jovi, Duran Duran 12" singles & long forgotten tracks where the words came effortlessly back got us all dancing soon.

The plan was to keep feeding people, keep the alcohol going. The outdoor BBQ was constantly fired up with new snacks - prawns, chicken skewers and Chinese dumplings. A trick I learnt from another party, to use the empty dishwasher (the drawer type) as an ice bucket. The delight as people pulled it open to see it stacked with Champagne... gosh I love indulgence at a party!

Time for the cake, Di made a caramel mud complete with shoe banners & sparklers. Nicole blasted 'Hungry like the Wolf' as the candles were lit. It was so special seeing everyone gather around and sing at the top of their lungs Duran Duran. I'm a dag and I love it.

Now the champagne was hitting a bit. Not too much, but the crowd was working out. My instincts told me TCPP (two chip packet phil) was interested in me. This was picked up by Linda & Craig (my best male buddy & his wife). Linda decided to be my love coach. 'You've got to loosen up' she said after yanking me into my room. 'Don't put your hair behind your ears...tousle it!...go out there and flirt!"

I'm the birthday girl! I need a pash! so I starting dancing with TCPP. I stroked his legs, draped myself over him & did back-to-back bum dancing.. then I ran away. Then I started all over again.

As the night progressed a few friends started whispering in my ears...'hey, I think MrBV still likes you!" indeed he arrived with a bottle of Moet for me, he was talking to everyone, but I just left him alone...jumping in every now and then to be updated.

to be continued...

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.

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.

The Coach

The new name for MrUltra fit/ FitManly (it was getting too confusing) is The Coach. We went out last night for a quick meal. I found out he doesn't have a kitchen in his city apartment. Something to do with cheap rent and close to his work. Which means having a cheap easy meal is something he needs to do regulary.

He also doesnt' drink. So I skulled a vodka shot before I went out.

So bizarre. The other year I had 6 dry dates with the Marathon Runner, until we got plastered one night. We had to as it wasn't going anywhere while sober. But this is different. The Coach is used to being sober. Unlike me who starts to twitch and I get sleepy early on..the alcholic sugar keeps me awake. The Coach is naturally talkative and cheeky. We made a few jokes, walked around the area and it felt nice, not an enforced sobriety, brought by over indulgence, but an easy, dare I say, healthy feeling of enjoyment.

Without thinking to much about it, my downfall activity, he jumped down from a ledge while putting both hands on my shoulders, his body contact was powerful. He has a strength emanating from him, a radiating warmth. I was kind of shocked. Have I not felt someone's body contact for such a long time ? It struck a brain cell and wouldn't let go.

We bought some cakes after dinner. The benefit of not drinking is you can have dessert. He's not a scary fit person, he eats sweets and doesn't look annoyed at junk food.

So after dinner, I dropped him home. There we were sitting in my car, I was just laughing to myself at the similarity of my last billion dates where I drive them home and it gets down to the car for the pash. Keeping my foot on the brake, the car was bum out to the hilly street, while he pointed out his building etc, and he leaned in to say goodnight...the lips locked, the pash was short but nice. Just enough. Look forward to more.

new plans

in the midst of no contact from The Viking, I had a champagne therapy season with Liz. A few years ago we meet up with two lovely Jewish boys for dinner. One was a barister & the other a solicitor. Sometimes you don't think there are cultural tribes in Sydney, until you meet a classic situation like this. They discussed their weekly therapy seasons & suggested I may like some therapy too. At $250 per hour, I thumped my hand on the table & shreked that I'd could buy lots of bloody good champagne for that & have my own therapy seasons with friends.

henceforth, champagne with friends is now know as 'therapy'

So, sitting in Liz's backyard, I raced up the road for the take-away. I asked the parking fairy nicely for a good spot, as a bad one was virtually near Liz's house anyway, and presto a big fat BMW X5 pulled out. (don't let me get onto my hatred of 4WD'S) so I swerve in & find my little red sedan jamming into the bumper bar of the other parked car. A big scrapping noise later, I see red paint all over their gold bumper bar. Another bloody 4WD, the worst, a Toyota LandCruiser.

Believing in car crash karma, I raced to get the takeaway & wrote a note to leave on the windscreen. In short the nice young male owner who called later took it well. We exchanged phone numbers, details etc & even birth dates, but sadly not marrital status or physical appearance.

So Liz & I started on the therapy. My panic of turning 40 was to be put into place. Firstly I need to acheive something by then. Not enough time to produce offspring, I will give birth to something else.. 'Project 40' it shall be called.

To get to Project40, I will also do something else on the wacky list of things to do in life (kept in my head) which is take a Vipassana silence retreat for 10 days. Clear the head & see what's left. Learn to sit up straight & still fall asleep. Booked in for March (4 weeks away)

meantime, now The Viking has sailed, may look for more cars to scrape into.

party time

Tanya is minding a house on Sydney Harbour complete with pool, trampoline & tennis court. She celebrated her birthday with a party at this (her cousin's ) house on Saturday. For us living in small terraces & apartments, this compound of activities on a hot summer afternoon was a great tonic for de-stressing and letting go.

It's not often you are splashing around in a backyard pool, complete with pool toys, with all your friends, no precious thoughts about getting our hair wet, we dived in, pretended to do sychronised swimming & squealed while eating watermelons in the pool. Simple but fun.

I've spent 15 years living in the inner-city. Living in Paddington terraces, Darlinghurst flats, Surry Hills share spaces. Now I'm in a modern white apartment block complete with funky lap pool in semi-industrial Waterloo. My childhood was spent in the bushy suburban North Shore where our house edged a national park, the pool was built into a 20 metre cliff. We roamed the streets, walking on hot bitumen, jumping between back yards pool or riding bikes through bush tracks. As teenagers & Uni students these large homes with pools & backyards became party zones. Speakers & turntables were dragged outside, deep & meaningful conversations took place under trees. This was our night club. The suburban oasis of Sydney.

It was a kind of epiphany on Saturday. Standing around a backyard with groups of people nested in different areas of this house all relaxing. It wasn't pretentious either. Wet swimming costumes dripped onto tiled floors, shoes off, sunglasses on, lying back on outdoor furniture under shady verandahs.

Two things happened with MrBalconyView. He who lives in a similar modern apartment as mine also grew up in the suburb next to mine. Shortly after he arrived at the party I was the first person he spoke to. Noting the backyard, he said 'I'd like to buy a house in Killara' (a suburb near our childhood areas) Suprised I asked why. 'For the future' he said. Thoughts of gardens, places for my herbs, greenery & quiet slid into my thoughts. I want that too. I dont' want to live in the inner-city. Bored of being cool. Bored of garbage trucks at 5am!

But don't be scared. I dont' like MrBV like that anymore, but I do realise he's like a male version of me. He reminds me of my family, my childhood, and with the comment about buying back into the North Shore, that I can accept & would enjoy moving away from the inner city.

The lunch party turned into an evening party. The sensible drinking turned into how-much-can-we-put-in-one-drink cocktails complete with lurid colours & mixed fruit garnishes. Then the karaoke machine was turned on. Tanya loves 80s music as much as me & insisted we sing to Spandau Ballet's 'Gold' (always believe in your soul/ you've got the power to know/you're indestrutible/) I'm not much of a singer so I perform & quelle suprise there were microphones with long leads & a couch to slide around on.

Purposely not speaking to MrBalconyView all afternoon - as a demonstration that I'm moving on - he appeared while Tanya & I performed our karaoke moment of the party. Singing to Soft Cell's Tainted Love (don't touch me please/ I cannot stand the way you tease/ I love you though you hurt me so/) I slid under Tanya's legs, carried on like a drag queen, screamed into the mic like Sid Vicious & gave the performance of my life. I sang it all out. Cathartic Karaoke.

I'm a little closer to knowing what I want & more so - to find the person I want to have another life with. Being single is fine. But it's time to move on. I want to have a different life, one with a partner, but mostly being ready for it means being happy to make those changes. I've done everything positive that a single person can do. Been to movies & parties by myself, lived alone, lived in share accomodation. I'm perfectly content with my own company but we are pack animals, we like communities and groups.. this is the next challenge - to bond sucessfully.

multiple dating is the way to go

Wednesday night, met TheRussianScotsman at the Art Gallery. We viewed photographs then went to the Tilbury Hotel for a drink. We talked & it became incressingly obvious the vibe was friends. Clarity struck; there is nothing more to this, I thought. We stood apart as we said goodbye. No air kissing, no touching, just 'goodbye'. Sometimes, nothing needs to be said.

Friday was new date... drinks with a bloke from last Saturday night..MrChatty. We laughed right from the begining and I got my issue out faster than a rush to the bar for last drinks. It goes like this.. 'I'm not in a hurry & I get panicky about dating, I just want to know I can call you & it's not loaded with any intention, just want to call & hang out." He said he felt the same & we shook hands. Laughed a bit more & chinked our glasses.

I was off to Souths Juniors to see a bunch of 80's band that night & he was really keen to come along. No worries, he came , we laughed, danced, bought really cheap drinks & he is really nice. We just get on. there are a few 'on no's & i'll expand on these in the next few days currently I'm away in adelaide for a friend's birthday,