continuing on

It's only been a week since my birthday party. We've rebuilt the kitchen island (like the 6million dollar man) it's better and stronger than before. There is some cake left in the fridge (with a knife on the plate next to it) Four bottles of French Champagne are proudly displayed along with all the cards & pressies. Having the party at home has extended the sense of the night. I see my home thru the good times of friends.

The past weekend was a continuation of my determination not to be bothered by MrBV & his lack of initiative. He cancelled our meet at the Art Gallery due to work. Maybe I should rename MrBV - The PartyPasher ?

Saturday night was two parties. The first, a wig party, although only a hour in attendance, I so enjoyed trying to dress the curly pink wig borrowed from Louise...you just pile on the make-up & go crazy with accessories. Afterwards I kept the wig on for Thierry's housewarming..."Didnt' you say this was a wig party? " as I greeted him in the costume. Not sure what his mostly French friends thought when I pulled out the iPod, and started dancing with a plastic chair. .... some nights you just dont' care. I'm not harming anyone...not misbehaving...just making people do things they really want to..secretly.

I really think my anti-depressive drugs are making me a hyperactive exhibitionist. Not the flesh baring type but 'lets all have fun' type.

Speaking of the depression. It's been about 6 weeks now. The drugs have definately kicked in & a cushion is protecting me from thinking badly of myself. My other worries: starting with finances, need to be sorted. Tomorrow I meet with my lovely doctor & we are putting in Medicare forms to help off-set the costs of professional help.

oh, and the most interesting person to contact me from RSVP is a 23yr old physio. Everyone else is too slack to organise a coffee meet.

And the walls came crumbling down...

I won't say how I know & it's only because my friends really love me & don'' want me to be hurt, but MrBV is over for me. He's been doing a lot of flirting and kissing of other girls in his obsession network. Others like me who are happy with some attention & have all recently experienced a more physical moment with him.

I was fine to start with...you know when you take such news calmly and gradually over the day you get angrier and angrier? As more evidence came to light, the slow glow of my experience suddenly lit like an airport at night & reality landed.

Everyone from the party has emailed or phoned their thanks, offered to pay for the damaged kitchen too, all except one person. The Monday email from me has gone unanswered. I re-read his card, it says' thanks for being my friend' , as he gave me the Moet he said' I give this to everyone' . He likes me, but he did say 'I like being single' on Sunday morning.

I want someone who wants to be with me, love me, so I can let all this love out that I have. To be 'loved and adored' is what I desire & so do all of you (my dear 5 readers!) and we all deserve it too.

Goodbye MrBV.

40th cont.

As the party warmed up, so did the need to be silly. The turntable was commandered by a member of the Bolshoi Ballet, with a fondness for 80's pop rock..'Kids in America' anyone?

The kitchen island was cleared and the table dancing began...which quickly turned into stage diving. Gosh I love to see my friends have a good time.

We each climbed up & did routines, longways, sideways, upways & through ways. It's amazing how many things you can do on a kitchen bench! A pause in the music and although no-one was on the bench it gave a sudden creak and fell over, plates and drawers rattling to a stop as it crashed into the cuboards. 'That's bloody Ikea for you' yelled Mathew appropriately.

The boys quickly righted it & typically in over-imbidded situations, the music went back on & we continued to party. Laughing as we re-told the story to those who missed it.

Don't know how it quickly became 3am. With 7 people left, everyone had a sudden thought to leave. They filed out - Penny, Thierry, Hunty, Amanda, Phil, Nicole and MrBV was last. He hesistated at the door, I stalled him with a 'what's the time question' Nicole turned to say some thing, saw a moment happening and quickly scurried off. I looked at him & thought 'Here goes'. The air kiss goodnight turned into a pash, a really good pash. The kind where he touches my neck, my hair; the kiss is soft and perfect. The cold 3am winds were blasting us at the open door. We closed it and walked to the middle of the empty room, with candles softening the room, the remainder of the Barry White album played as we continued the pash.

'Let's go into the room' I said. We calmly blew candles, turned off lights & walked into my room. Crawling onto the bed, we continued talking and it felt like the most normal thing in the world, that we were together and going to bed. 'I hope you'll get under this time' said MrBV, referring to 2.5 years ago when I slept on my bed in my dress, the first time we met. "Of course, I'll just get changed." Quickly grabbing my sexy nightie from the draw and removing the dag pyjamas from under the pillows, I went into the bathroom, removed only the eye and lip makeup & brushed my teeth. Emerging, he was in my bed, wearing his t-shirt.

I wasn't interested in sleeping with him, it was almost 4am & it was more about being affectionate, just having such a comfortable feeling & being with him. We kissed some more & I asked him why he called me a 'good girl' (from the text message) and he again said it that night. 'what do you mean by 'a good girl?' " I asked. Whatever he was going to say, I had to accept it...you just have to ask these things.. I held my breath. "You have such a generous heart, are always interested in people & are a wonderful person" We lay together just breathing close while he stroked my neck, jaw and shoulders. Such bliss.

We held each other until we needed to sleep. The morning was more affection & around 10am we woke, easily talked about life and stuff. I knew he would leave about now. I stood in my dressing gown (hair suitably touselled) and looked at him. Here's that bloody moment when he should say something..you know, like 'I'll call you'. I didn'' want to let that pass. 'I don't want to embarass myself by asking when I'll see you" I said quietly. "Oh, I'll see you again, maybe we'll see a movie?" he walked away with a long glance.

Walking slowly, carefully back to my room, I considered the night, the party, the damage, the fun & the unexpected 4am pash.

want to see the photos? click here for my facebook album. Can you spot MrBV giving me my present ?

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...

Got there!

Sydney: 4pm, bucketing rain, 12 deg, winter is well on.
At home, glass of bubbles, plate of cheese & salami.
Ugg boots & cashmere hoodie.

it's my birthday. I'm finally here, quelle relief. Yes: I am relieved. The drama of the last few months is over it feels. Now I'm 40. The wait is over.

Taking the day off work to sit at home or do whatever I like. Spent most of the day on-line, talking to friends and not feeling guilty for doing pleasurable crap. Must learn to switch off guilt button more often.

I'm organising my party for Saturday night here at home. It will be cold so asking everyone to wear fur coats (which we all seem to have in our wardrobes) Hoping for a massive pile of fur as everyone warms up & tosses them in a heap.

I had an epiphany of sorts this morning, regarding 'my life'. Have been concerned about procreating, whether I can, should I, will I issues. As I have no partner/ husband or looming potential, the pressure to meet & make babies is less likely.

Five years ago I started my own business, working from home for the first few years I felt happier and less stressed. There was plenty of room for a partner & another life. It could have been a good set-up for fitting in marriage or motherhood, but that never happened. Over the last few months I've struggled with giving up this career for something else more stimulating (and better paid), plus accepting the life I have, plus wondering what to do & what can I do..only a few big questions.

This journey took me to the doctors. I'd spent weeks crying and feeling lethargic. I stopped exercising and lost all interest, except in episodes of The West Wing & drinking red wine. I needed be to challenged. My job was dull, the financial rewards few, creditors were calling & what I was , was depressed...officially. (the stolen handbag was the trigger, btw)

Tom Cruise may not approve, but Brooke Shields would. Taking anti-depressants has made all the difference. There's a cushion to my thoughts. The Darkness is not there. I can speak more openly about myself & to myself.

I told my mum first & she said the same thing...that I need a challenge, wasn't stimulated at work & what I was thinking was correct. It was time to move on & find another working life.

I've let go of so many ideas about my life in the last few weeks, so sorry for not posting, it's been a big month of thoughts. I've let go of my current work, and thought about how to wrap it up. Updated my CV, told some friends about the depression (happy to tell everyone, hence this post) and had a good conversation with a few friends about other work

So letting go of 'not being a mother' is not because I am selfish or deluded about motherhood, it's entirely circumstantial. I'm not having a child without a strong partner & I won't put pressure on an early partnership with a too soon pregnancy, just because, at 40, I should make it urgent.

I visited my lovely cousins last night, whose 4 yr old is my godson (who thinks he's a pirate). I loved being there, being a friend, an aunt, a godmother and playing walk-the-plank. Regardless of who has children, we love each others company & I love their kids. It all goes together. (wow think the champagne has kicked in!)

I feel unbelievably resolved. And ready to find what I need to find, as a 40 yr old & happy to be one.

rsvp so far

I've been on the site for the last week. I selected about 10 possibles and put them in favourites. None of these have contacted me so far.
What I am suprised at is the number of young guys contacting me, or even viewing my profile. The youngest is 23, a couple are 30... as I'm nearly 40, I find it amusing but I'm not looking for a toy-boy. Nor looking for fat balding men with 3 teenage kids.
will keep you updated!

testing the blink

has anyone read 'Blink'? it's about those first gut thoughts we have to a person or situation. Often you don't trust these & rationalise it away, yet, you ask sucessful people about certain decisions & they often respond 'I trust my gut' or 'I had a feeling about this one'.

It's truly about the gut too, the bulge in the stomach, the tastes rising up your mouth, the gurgles and noises it makes. Also trying to breathe deeply so it's not all knotted up.

I went to Suzy's housewarming last Saturday night and during the party, I tested my reaction to the surrounding men. I discovered I like a man well dressed. In a suit or jacket, clean cut or just well dressed. I react to a nice stripey shirt or velvet jacket & good jeans. Not too smooth, but in quality clothes and well styled. Interesting eyewear too.

Going to the business district and seeing all the suits is a turn-on.

I'm sure there's a deep psyhchological reason behind this, but I'm just reacting to what pleases me. A man in a good suit.
what's yours?

Charity night cont

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

life; always interesting

Charity Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be continued....

almost ready

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

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

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

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

more miles

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

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

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

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


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

A breakthrough

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

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

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

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

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

If I knew

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

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

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

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

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

Response to 'Spewing'

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

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

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

spewing for a bit

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feathers

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

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

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

Urgency

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

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

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

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

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

Sundays

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

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

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

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

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

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

full moon full on stuff

ah! what a weird 12 hours !

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robbery Update

Remember this night? 12 hours of Everything.

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