Pre-emptive strikes

I had a lovely lunch with Lisa & Alison today. Lisa's just given birth to twins & Alison is pregnant with her second. We are the original 3 girl team from school & university. Over the years there's been many meals, bottles of wine & great conversations. Recently our monthly dinners have become essential to our sanity. There is a level of advice and comfort we've taken from each other ...and some of it is quite direct.

To tell them that my love life is still confusing is just tedious. Not because they aren't interested, but because we are all sick of it...it's a never-ending story. We all want a happy ending & it's taking longer than my mortgage commitments to eventuate.

They sense my frustration & although interested in my stories, because they are interesting after all, a theme is emerging. The men are all running away, not trying, making pre-emptive decisions about relationships before we've even had a chance to get past the nervous stage. I'm turning into a wreck. I question myself over every detail & quite honestly I'm tearing myself up over everything. Alison said I don't deserve to torture myself, as they know I'm not pushy or needy or anything...in fact I'm too nice & patient and friendly.

Quite literally I've been rejected for 10 years straight.... which is harsh on my self-esteem. Thank goodness for my little white pills (zoloft) keeping me from hitting rock bottom. As a naturally cheerful person, this is getting to me.

I don't want to sound depressed....just having a moment to take stock and just forget about boys for a while. The annoying thing is I can't even cry anymore, which I feel like doing.

(Stacey, does kickboxing really work for this type of frustration? )

Dear Reader, remember this blog is a good way to vent, so glad I have this outlet...my most reliable relationship this year.

you know

There are those special moments of clarity when you know what you really want.

In this case it's not a certain person or specific plan.. there is no named place I want to move to, or person apart from me who can compliment this idea. This is how the plan starts. I have to want it first. Then the person/people match this. But I'm more sure this is where I need to move towards.

Where are my thoughts? I am on the cusp of a life change. Specifically I have biological needs and I don't want to be embarrased by them or belittled by the media's image of a single 40 yr old woman. I'm just me & it's me who's come to this decision.

It starts in me. Where I have more to give. More to do, more to want to love & be responsible for. Like an architect, I have a plan and I want to build something personal and special. There are a number of things I would like to do. Really basic stuff, but it's now time, increasingly so. Delightfully so,...that is to have a goal and a real goal of desire.

I want ...

A partner
A home
A family

The variables are built in. The goal is the same.

The right partner is still unknown, but I have no preconceptions. The home is what it is when I'm there with the partner. The family is any combination. I could have step kids, adopted, foster or my own, which I realise I would like to try for.

It's about building something. Which only two people can build together because they want to.

I've had enough of this self-sustaining life. Of creating my own fun, my own entertainment. I want to really love someone, get annoyed with someone & discover parts of me and him which you can't in a friendship or work environment.

I don't know myself in this way i.e. in a committed relationship. I've never had a relationship past 2 years, never lived with anyone...and I'm so bored with my predictability. A long term relationship is my South Pole, my bungy jump or hand-brake turn. ! something I've never done before !

Rarely do I have such a strong desire. A focused need. Yet it's a relief to have a goal.

As Rachel would say. "It won't happen overnight, but it will happen"

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.

Single Girl's Dinner

There's a familiar theme amongst us... apart from tortured thoughts on males & that's how we dine at night, at home alone

Sitting here with a half-finished bottle of wine, slab of brie & internet connection I realise we have similar dietary habits.

Dressage: tracky bottoms (long ago they were for yoga) , ugg boots & today's smugged make-up.

In the fridge is a half-eaten take-away meal. It's from a pseudo home-cooked take-away place. At least it feels like I cooked it. Some meals taste better microwaved the next day ? don't you think ?

Vino in some form. Tonight it's a Spanish red.

Cheese always features. I like brie, but I have no idea the diff between Camembert and brie... may be a fat percentage in the wrong direction.

A glass of water for dehydration. Again the balance is falling the wrong way.

Mobile phone is within reach....remaining stubbornly quiet.

And sneaking out for a fag to starve off lack of fresh air. So I tell myself.

... then more boy thoughts before snuggling into clean sheets. Sometimes it's nice to be home alone.

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.

Coming Together

While walking home from the bakery this morning, the insights of last night’s huge dream and my current confusing love life came together in one of those ‘ping’ moments.

In my dream I was chasing away rats, telling old boyfriends how it was, living in a castle ( a modernised one, complete with internet connections) finding my way on maps & doing research in lighting speed.

Will tell you how all this fits together later on.

Ever since I went on Catalyst it’s been about putting forth my needs, being honest with emotions and just being a known flirt. Before that time I was really over-sensitive about my feelings. I had had crushes on friends and never told them. Went to parties and never tried to flirt with the one I liked. I dressed very formal and generally got so worked up I would have to drink a bit to even have some courage. The first kiss was monumental to me, I got all nervous when I really started to like someone & probably forgot who I was as it progressed. More often I was the dumpee, too overwhelmed to really see what a relationship was really about. I live through my emotions.

The show allowed me to release my inner flirt. I danced on couches, flicked my hair, wore more waist and bust defining dresses and heels. Then I learnt when a guy was or wasn’t interested, then learned not to take the reaction personally. I choose how far to go, I made up the rules. I talked more frankly with friends. They read this blog (all five of them) and know what I get up to.

I’ve done a lot of pash and dash. Lots of dates, lots of honest conversations & meet a bunch of really nice blokes and then understood myself, whether I liked them or I was liking them because they paid me attention. Finally learnt to make that distinction. I had the choice depending on if it was equally good for me. Self -esteem is hard to learn but easy when you get there.

However, the pendulum had swung a bit too far. I was serial flirting. At parties I could flit around to each group, pay the boys lots of attention, take numbers, send texts and keep the flirt going during the week with emails and facebook pokes.

I will flirt for the rest of my life. Too me it’s a form of being charming, to make people loosen up, not be so serious. I ‘m nice to the coffee shop people, the newsagent, the waitress … whoever I can make smile makes my day too. (I can be grumpy too…balance is important)

This is where the dream comes into it. I chase rats away and get annoyed with boyfriends who avoid any responsibilities or are selfish. Because getting rid of the bad ones will allow a true honest man to arrive. It’s not the amount of flirting I do, it’s the quality of it. I’m bringing integrity back (not sexy) . I have a real sense of a man who is solid, has convictions, is grown-up about being responsible & knows how to truly love. That fullsome, honest, real, embracing, realistic version of love. He’s also a bit of a dag, endearingly so.

Today is the first of Spring…well timed for a day of cleaning, both metaphorically and physically. The ipod is playing Simon & Garfunkel, my dag housework music, and I’m ready to chase out the rats and get some integrity

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.

Timing

For the first time in my life I have a psychologist to talk with. Our discussions have been mostly about sorting out my financial and working life. On Thursday after not seeing her for a month, I gave her an update. With two job interviews, a new business plan for the shop and my overall improvements in general, it was a good catch-up. One topic we had not covered as yet & that was my love life. Over the last month I’ve developed a relationship with Voice Man. On the scale of ‘how good’ it’s pretty up there. I just love Virgo Men. They are funny, witty, kind, know how to cook & have a stability to them that calms me.

TypeASuperFit is also a Virgo, so is my best male friend & a few previous ones over the years….all can cook & chat & are fun. I don’t go looking for them..it’s just what I attract. The only problem is timing.

TASF was recently separated, a 5 year marriage, no kids and his wife cheated. He is still pretty ‘out there’ . When we first went for coffee, he said, ‘Cat, you tell me what you want, I’ll go and get the papers, do the ordering, you just sit there. I like doing this part” Those words thrilled me. What he wanted to do, was what I like receiving. We laughed all morning as a result of this perfect understanding.

Voice Man is also recently separated, has two kids and while he’s not ‘out there’ sexually, like TASF, he is still exploring the world of friends and inner city life, along with Friday nights with friends. Less commitment to the family and more about him.

The problem is he is too recently separated. It’s only six months. He’s only just developing the separate father role, the newly single role, the man with freedom role.

His birthday is next week. He’s having a party at home & he’s not sure about me coming along. The ex will be there along with their common friends. As he said, some people will feel there’s not enough mourning period before the next relationship.

I haven’t meet any of the friends and also don’t want to go. For reasons of first introductions & explaining the relationship, I’m not ready. So I talked to the psychologist about it. “As you’ve only just meet, in the last 4/ 5 weeks, his birthday has just come at the wrong time”, she said. ” It’s not necessary to be with him and vice versa. If his birthday was in a few months you are better prepared to be involved. Do something else for his birthday, separately, if you want.”

I agreed and the answer was right for me & I’m sure he’d be happy to hear it too, thus solving everyone’s dilemma.

Only problem is Voice Man has done the disappearance act. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since Tuesday (it’s Saturday morning) although I left a message on his phone. I don’t feel right about this. After having such a huge night & then absolutely no contact.

Maybe it’s all too early for him, does he need a bit more ‘mourning’ time? Sort out his ex, his kids, his friends and let him have his single man time.

So, if you’re reading this, Voice Man, I’d rather quit now, before it’s too deep, before you realise you need more time for yourself & regret moving on so fast. Happy Birthday for next week. See you in the future.

(the first ever break-up via blog?)

Me or My Emotions?

Am I just better at sex, or does the other person contribute to the enjoyment?

Had a late night phone call from TypeASuperFit. “I’m awake, but why are you awake? ” I answered. “Now, Cat, don’t be like that! ” “There’s only one reason why you are calling me at 11:30pm on a Thursday night” “Can I come over?”

“No way, besides I don’t need it from you. I’ve got a boyfriend”

“That’s great”, he said, “You deserve someone, No really I’m happy for you. You know I can’t give you that. Who is he?”

“You don’t know him. He’s in the film industry, he’s younger - that’s how I like them & he’s really good…the other night we had absolutely no sleep”

“That’s great, you know I was with this girl the other night & it was really bad, like nothing. You know you’re great Cat. ” (his flattery is accepted!)

“It really depends if you get along, the old ‘connection’ issue. The more you trust and are open, the better it is. It’s hollow otherwise”

‘You’re so right. Can I ask you for help, seriously ? “

“Dr Cat’s advisory service?, so long as you call during office hours! “

So why is each experience so different? It’s not about what you are, but how the both of you are together. Do you trust, do you get each other, kind and funny & silly together. ? have these & get better sex as the reward

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)

Replacing the Rabbit

You exist for so long on temporary pleasures, band-aid solutions & being resolved with what's on offer at that moment. You begin to wonder if it gets any better & if past pleasures are an exaggerated fantasy. Say you've been drinking Australian Champagne & then drink a glass of French. The taste is infinitesimally better. Each sip is explosive. You drink carefully not quickly, the whole experience is altered from just getting squiffy to being possessed by the liquid.

So it goes with sex. Each experience can be pleasurable; you learn enough about yourself to discover how to do this but it's a band-aid. A quick shot in the arm of skin & desire. We have needs, as humans, to have such contact with others. TypeASuperFit is my quick and only shot in the last year. He finds pleasure in my lack of other lovers, believing he has a unique power to satisfy.

Tuesday night I caught up with Voice Man. Our third date. The conversations and discoveries are so much fun, that time slides by, so I knew it would be a guaranteed good night. Mental preparations were surprisingly sparse. I thought only of the night ending with a pash in the car and maybe creating a little window condensation.

In a simple way, we get each other. Word plays, silly laughter, cheekiness & trivial knowledge as personality attractions. There's something really solid about him. Whereas I get flustered and loose all sense of decision making, his presence calms me.

I will blame the toilet door. Seated next to this draughty door at the restaurant encourage us to leave dinner earlier than expected. Carrying the half finished bottle of wine home, the suggestion was to finish it on my new deck - under the outdoor gas heater.

Slowly falling into each other arms after a good hour of silly chatting we almost fell off the couch pashing. He said, "this is your house you tell me what to do". "Well", I said " we can go inside to my room, but no hanky panky!" Voice Man is a rule breaker, quelle surprise. Maybe I'm not good at enforcing them ?

For the next hour I held out. "Underpants stay on!" I demanded. "It's a Tuesday night!" I tried to explain, "I got a wax this morning & I've still got bits of wax on me!".

"I'll do whatever you say, I can be a gentleman" he responded as he stroked and inspired me to break all my rules. This man knows how to touch, to bring your skin back to life. Everything he did worked. He could hold and lift and touch and move like in perfect choreography. Unlike something taught it was a naturally synchronised elevation of desires.

In short, dear reader, after many years of bad sex, I had a night of fabulous sex, thrice. No sleep, who cares ? ! We even saved water by showering together in the morning.

That wonderful rumpled bed hairstyle, smug smile & over-heated skin was the souvenir of the long night of action.

And strangely I'm not worried about where it's going. It's good, he's good & I'd say we are both making each other happy. That's enough for now.

The rabbit is replaced.

Voice Man found this blog yesterday & read it (will read this post too) ...my greatest fear has past. Hello you!

White Unicorn

A White Unicorn is a mythical rare beast. In Sydney girl speak, it's that rare man who is ready and primed for a relationship. The timing button has been pressed , the issues dealt with and he's ready to be released for set-ups and parties.

When a White Unicorn comes to visit or is introduced to you, as has happened a few times recently, the crowd parts and you are left with The Unicorn to examine his Relationship Readiness. Not that you haven't been given a vast set of notes on his desires, tastes, a few quirks and googled him prior, by the keepers of The Unicorn (our common friends). He appears remarkably at ease with probing questions, speaks eagerly and longingly of his nieces or children of friends, tells stories of weekends spent in wineries or out sailing, then mentions a piece of furniture he's bought for his house, uninhabited by others, just him, he pointedly hints.

The night goes well, eye contact is consistent, events in the future are proffered for potential coupling. "Would be great to catch-up sometime" he says "Do you have a card? " And your mobile number is simultaneously clicked into his phone. Everyone holds their breath as this action occurs, is it success?

I think it's all a rouse. To get the monkeys off his back. To tease the friends and allow them some set-up satisfaction. He's really a serial unicorn. He loves this attention from friends, a mix of pomposity and sympathy as well as being introduced as the Guest Unicorn of Honour.

Somehow the man who is so-called ready is not. The hunt for a mate is his, not others. No-one likes a walled garden...he wants to be free to roam to find a mate for himself. The captive prey is not as desirable as one he has to chase.

A new toy

It's sitting in my bottom drawer, wrapped in a towel. Can you guess what darling TJ bought for me? my first vibrator. It's purple & has pearls inside the lining, plus a rabbit thing on the outside. Edith bought it in Canberra on her last trip. Apparently they are heaps cheaper there...along with fireworks and dope. A strange benefit for living in the world's most boring capital city.

You have to clean it first - take away the plastic residue. Luckily I had disinfectant wipes from the India trip and then purchased lubricant.

The night I meet Voice Man was the first time I used it. I was a little wired up & this is what it's for. I thought it was so big & once I hit the button it was not silent..like an electric toothbrush. Prehaps I need a Ipod speaker system for further noise diversion. How do you dress for this occasion? I had my nightie on...pyjamas would be wrong. Lights or no lights? how do the buttons work again ? back, forward and swinging side to side. whirr, whirr, rumm, rumm... just like an episode of Top Gear. Think there' s too much lubricant. Oh, now I have to move it around.. the battery action can only do so much. Just like a toy, half the fun is the imagination you apply to the game. Luckily I have such an imagination.

Who can this purple rabbit be ? Voice Man, Type A Super Fit , or the Mysterious Stranger ? Madonna's song, Beautiful Stranger started playing in my head crossed with a version of Harvey the 6ft Invisible Rabbit. (played by Jimmy Stewart, oh, don't think about that)

I could just fall asleep now, just like a bad fuck... would that damage the ego of Mr Purple Rabbit? how long would the batteries last? Mr PR is only as good as I make him be.

The good thing is there's no cleaning up afterwards. I just chucked him on the ground and went to sleep.

In the morning I found a little dark patch under him on the carpet. I'd forgotten to put the lid back on the lubricant & it spurted out. I didn't miss out on the wet patch after all.

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'

facebook

Apologies for not posting, even though heaps has happened, I've been obsessed by Facebook. For those who don't know this site...be warned! it's addictive. I've found so many friends, old boyfriends and just people in general. You can lurk around and play with games, applications, see what everyone is up to. As a web tool it's had an incredible impact on many people I know so the whole experience is not in isolation... for some reason we have all taken to this site in a swarm & that's precisely what makes it interesting.. that so many people you know are there.

Okay... you know when it rains it pours? well it's a virtual flood, a damn bursting wall of dating activity. Facebook has something to do with that too. I poked an old flame, TypeA -Super Fit.
A 'poke' is a facebook term for saying 'hello'. Cheeky but cute. The poke turned into a few texts, then phone calls at 10pm on Friday night. I madly cleaned up the house, lit candles and then put on sexy underwear including the black lace-trimed stay up stockings.

Why was I inviting him over again ? I needed it. And that man makes me do things. He enlivens me & we have fun. His muscular body is also slightly appealing.

The next night I meet an old friend in the pub...lots of discussions about relationships while watching the Bledisloe cup (australia lost :-( ) .

Meanwhile on Facebook I attracted someone & we are in email contact.. it's seems harmless? !

Then on Sunday I walked and lunched with a guy from RSVP. He is incredibly sweet & funny & is English of Indian origin. Not on my radar..but he's so easy to talk too. Five hours went very quickly & nice to do day-time non-drinking stuff.

Meanwhile on Ebay, my auction of some shoes was attracting attention. On advice I modelled the high-heeled shoes, as had had too many emails asking what they look like on.. An email question came through...'nice legs, sexy even'.

By Sunday night I was EXHAUSTED. 3 men in 3 days, one on facebook & email contacts. Plus text messages flying all around.

Normally I would panic. I would feel guilty having to split my interest & think it was my decision to make, or I should tell them I am seeing other men, albeit socially. But each of these guys is appealing to me in different ways. I can't make a decision. So this time I am just going to keep going...see what happens.

My multi-tasking skills are being exercised in a situations I didnt' expect. Havent' had time to read HP 7 too!

Follow through

That was the topic of the party. As I'm the expert of dating (even though I'm single) conversations are now centered on such issues. It's about being purposeful, especially at a party and seeing if there are any opportunities for flirting. There always are ..you just have to remember to do so & forget all your business niceties...don't shake hands, instead do the air kiss...be playful, dress well, look your best, smile & be interested in people...avoid heavy conversations & especially people who want to tell you long intense stories of broken dreams.

We all tend to rely on skills we are good at, and maybe too good at avoiding what we are unhappy with. Pete's 40th on Saturday was a perfect example. Pete is recently single. The last time we all met he bored everyone with a misery guts story of breaking up. Like me he was probably having issues with turning 40. Marilyn & I prepared by drinking the Moet (my present from MR BV) before arriving.

Pete was smiling. He was the great host, the proud 40 yr old, surrounded by family and friends, slapping backs and greeting us with true delight. I love seeing people's parents too. His mum's silver grey hair was in an elegant chignon, the dad was like a cute professor who chuckled as he spoke. I'm one of those sucky people who talks to the parents.

There's the moment when you look around & see people you never expected. Being a Sydney person my prior lives with other boyfriends or work comes back to me at such events. The connections were discovered as we asked the 'how do you know Pete ' question.

Mr Bv's friends, TCPP & The Englishman were both there. These two are lovely boys. I've never seen them with a girlfriend, but they always turn up to events, behave well, send thank you emails & generally fill the 'single-boy-quota' at parties. It was The Englishman's turn to ask me more flirting stories. The emphasis was on the follow through. He's a tall blonde English man. Beautifully dressed in a pin-stripe suit & soft purple shirt, he looked really smart. Not my cup of chai but he's been sniffing around some friends with no results. He has the best manners, but never initiates anything physical. He turns up for long chats & organises get-togethers. In short he doesnt' even get to the pash stage. As Marilyn says not even any 'hanky-panky-pants-on' fun.

The EnglishMan & I sat in the corner, out of the freezing wind. It was time for the talk. Like any of us, we've been hurt.." Why", I said, "are you still affected after 5 years? stop being so sensitive and stiff." My bossy self was coming through.
"After a while I can't see the relationship being the one, so I stop"
"Not even a kiss?"
"No" he replied.

"You can't know how a relationship is always going to play out" I explained " I've been so sure sometimes & three weeks later, he's a nut-job ..othertimes someone will grow on you & it's better than you predicted"

"The problem now is, TEM. You've shut off your physical side. You're stiff and lost interest in playfully touching someone." Very conveniently TCPP came by. "TCPP here loves a good playful clutch" I said recalling TCPP's boob & bottom grabbing at my party. I put my arm around TCPP & gave him a squeeze.

"TEM, near the end of a night, my friends are often lying on the couch, having fun conversations, giving hugs and being affectionate, in a friendly way. We all need the touch, it keeps you alive. So put you arm around me, we're friends and keep talking."

We all know how nice it is to sit back, be comfortable with friends and just talk? I'm on a campaign to have more of it.

Looking over at the Bar was MrBV. He was at it again. Hocking into some girl. He'd only been there a few hours, as he'd come from a wedding. He's like a kissing street performer.

TEM and I just shook our heads. "he's at it again, he can't help himself" he said.

By now it was almost 3am & his lift home was leaving. I gave TEM a last hug & said, 'Try this again, with someone else...don't be afraid of being affectionate..it's nice isn't it?"

I'm such a good love coach, as I walked home, perfectly alone.

He texted 'thanks' the next day.

Femininity

Finally shedding any sense of being a tomboy, being a 'mate' to my male friends & dressing in a neutral way, in flat shoes, trousers & being covered up. The androgynous fashions of the early 90's had us going to gyms to be muscular, wearing man-style suits & general baggy clothes. Wearing a dress was unusual, unless it was a classic LBD, which was worn with black stockings and tailored jackets. I look at all my work photos of this time & I look so boring, so corporate and I loved wearing navy & brown.

Perhaps it was an insecurity to look older & responsible. I lost my femininity, my love of clothes and dressing. With the re-interest in second hand clothes tantalisingly re-badged as 'vintage' I rediscovered my love of the unique, the finding and seeking of dresses and accessories. Yesterday I wore my favourite jumper, found for $5 at Bondi Markets. It's black and yellow and features a giraffe. Worn with straight jeans and ankle boots, I felt more myself & my creativity than I have for a while.

I really want to look like a woman. Heels, salon hair, make-up, french perfume & the other night I wore those lace rimmed stay-up stockings. Gosh it was easy to use the bathroom too! no hitching and re-adjusting ! Perhaps the resurgence of Burlesque and lacy flirty femininity is better for us. A bit of body fat, curves and white skin is easier for me to achieve than spray-tanning my whitey skin, using some device to a bad exercise video & wanting to exercise all the curves away. I'm even showing some cleavage..my final exposure barrier.

This weekend is Pete's 40th, and I really want to look alluringly feminine, classy, seductive but with a Katherine Hepburn/ Lauren Bacall edge. Using the 1940's style to be in my 40's? looking forward to it.

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.

romance

No, I haven't bounced back that quickly, but have made a small significant discovery. Must have read somewhere about a film called 'Notebook'. That it's a lovely romantic story. As it happened I got an offer from Bigpond Movies (my service provider) with a 6 week free DVD trial. You just order them on-line and they arrive in the post.

The first 4 to arrive included Notebook and a Katherine Hepburn. Sunday was a cold winter's day & before I knew it, had a cup of tea, my ugg boots on & a blanket. I have an enormous sense of guilt watching films at home during the day. I should be outdoors in the fresh air, getting pink cheeks and enjoying the winter sunshine.! bugger that. I need something else. The previous night I saw the Paris Opera Ballet, one of the great ballet companies of the world. I was mesmerized watching the physical yet elegant movements of their bodies. My brain switched gears & my limbs reacted in rubbery approval. Culture does tame the beastly mind.

(note: we ran across to the pub after the performance to watch the Wallabies win against the All Blacks! high and low culture is good for you)

With the ballet as mental champagne, I needed to extend that feeling & watch a romance film.

Notebook soothed me & revived me. Too much of the West Wing's political grown-up dramas, CSI's forensic analysis & reality manipulations on TV have blocked my hope: the genuiness of the Notebook story was like a huge bubble bath for my mind & body.

Do I believe in romance again? I am ready to think so. That's my breakthrough.

control

Who is ever in control of that battle - the heart vs their head ? love makes you go spastic. Desire thwarts sense. They say women are peacemakers, anti-war & should be in charge of armies. We have the inner war going on all the time. The battle over desire, justification, common sense, self-esteem and happiness. Constantly plotting and analysing what the hell I should say, do, act...does HE LIKE ME OR NOT issues.!

My heart enjoyed kissing MrBV. The gentle affection and perfect fit made my heart sing. My head, experienced in his fey charm, knew it was a glitch in his romantic patterns.

So I did what my ego demanded. What therapists say you should do. My heart wanted to be free of the anger...so I did something not unfamiliar to an overwrought teenager in hormonal torture. I wrote him a letter.

Enjoying the sound of the keyboard as I pulled out the words. Watched them take a stand, highlight the events of our meetings and show how I was justified in feeling something for him, but asking for a final comment. 'this is how I have to deal with it' I wrote to him. 'Stay single, MRbv, and I'll go away'.

The beauty of my thoughts on that glowing page. Here was a summary of the back and forward of my emotions with him. I wanted him to know I found it hard to keep dismissing my desire for him. That I had done well up until the night of the party, the night of our first pash. Because, unfortunately it felt bloody good.

I wrote the letter in the morning. The words came together via the night's sleep. By the afternoon, and a bottle of bubbles with Liz later I decided to send it to him. I always think you can deal with that stuff later in the day.

Sending the letter as an attachment, I wrote.
subject line: ????
"instructions: print the attachment. read, then toss. burn or delete.. whatever you think fit.
yours. cat "
time: 5: 13 pm

The reply came back at 5:38pm

"All I can say is I think you are a wonderful girl, I never meant to hurt you and I would never intentionally do it. I am sorry that I have. I did not mean to lead you on.
The night of your birthday I didn't plan what happened, it just happened and I enjoyed being with you. I want you to be happy"

my reply
"thanks. just needed to know something. cheers, cat"

and finally from him
"Just one more thing, I don't give out bottles of Moet to everyone, I just say things like that because I get embarrassed giving presents."

(he said to me 'I give this to everyone' when he presented me with Moet... I now realised I was being dumb & should have teased him on that.... I was playing too sensitive)

Sending the letter did work. I emptied myself of him. Not quite ready for anyone else yet...but I'm closer to being ready for someone.e