randomness

I usually wake from broken sleep and scribble thoughts onto my notepad. If it's dark, I'll use my mobile phone light to scratch the ideas. My little moleskin notebook is then tossed into whatever handbag, dived for at cafe's and traffic lights to further the day's relationship question & answer.

I left my notebook in the seat pocket of the plane. They can't find it. It may take weeks of flying around the world before someone finds it deep in the pocket. Or maybe not.

Over the trip to FNQ, Liz and I discussed ideas and I had to quickly find another notebook to start over. Here are some of the conversations..(before I loose this one)

What fills you, as a single person, with dread? a wedding? christmas? company functions or holidays. It seems fun at first to be unemcumbered, to float around a room, flirt, drink & talk to whomever. Then the events start being too random in entertainment. It would be nice to know a guaranteed person to attend these with, someone to capture the thread of life's events.

What makes you angry? Jewellery was my answer. I once bought a Tiffany &Co necklace, a nice little Elsa Peretti piece, modern and daily appropriate. The hideous witch I worked with commented 'it would be so much nicer if a man had bought that for you'. With that one sneerful comment she embedded a life time of voice data to my new necklace. I had honestly never heard of such an idea. Only a man can buy you jewellery? what of the gifts from parents, relatives and the inherited items? isnt' love the imparting emotion of jewellery. I love my necklace & hope it turns into a cherished 'aunty cat's' necklace story.

Finally over Mai-Tai's by the pool, came the big discussion. Why are we still single? Am I dealing with prior-life karma? do I still need to be single for some reason ? are there any more bloody lessons to learn? I'm as ready as anybody can be. Just in case I continously purge my house/ office/ handbag & car boot of extraneous objects in case 'hoarding' is spoiling my relationship feng shui.

so it's to Miles Franklin, for a final word on what I'm looking for in a partner.

"...it would be one who could put his finger on some hidden spring in himself and in me and in grand fusion reveal the fullness of life."

astro note: miles franklin: sun & merc - libra. Moon, venus, uranus-virgo. Saturn - aries.

I tried

Sometimes you can do everything right and still fail. The best bit about getting older is you don't take the knocks so personally.

Event: Advertising boys having a combined birthday party.
Location: by the harbour
Theme: rock star

Great friend Nicole wore all pink, because she was Pink. I choose the strapless cocktail number and did Cyndi Lauper, with less make-up. My new FNQ tan would enhance my shoulders and bust in the outfit, a boy-catching outfit, I thought. My new dressing strategy is to look more feminine, show off the female bits, but not too much. More Scarlett Johansen than Paris Hilton.

I used eye contact, chatted to people, danced and wiggled, only had a few champers, got introduced to various single boys....but nothing. The biggest group of men were in the corner smoking dope & drinking jugs of beer.

We called it a night before 12, happy to dress up, go out & generally be 'out there'...but if he's not there, he's not there. And anyway, sometime a good night's sleep is more enjoyable.

Avoiding superficiality

I'm falling into the superficial conversation trap. Why do I have such great discussions with my female friends, ranging from issues on The West Wing, diatribes on best bakeries to life, the universe and rabbits: when I talk to blokes it so banal. so boring. Its all so nice. When I try to deepen the conversation..their eyes glaze over..conversation comes to a grinding halt, like talking to a mule. So you try to stick to conversations they are excited about... sports, holiday plans and whatever is their current passion. I accepted long ago you are rarely asked questions about your life. More evolved men will ask, socialised ones will too. I think it's just polite to have a bit of to & fro with conversations.

back to superficial.

I saw The Coach last night for easy meal in Chinatown. We both picked better this time and really enjoyed the fragrant meals while the rain poured down outside. (does is rain everywhere in April?) he's really sweet, has lovely sparkly eyes (probably because he doens't drink) but all we talked about was work. Which is a valid part of any conversation, but not all of it.

So I'm trying to stop this pattern of being superficial in conversation. I want it to deepen without resorting to 'twenty questions' style or asking any 'where is this going' demands.

Starting with 'can I ask you something personal...?" as the entry to these ideas.

• In the last 5 yrs of your work what are you most proud of?
• What made your last relationship good, was it similar interests or such ?
• What qualities do you like in a woman ? that's she's similar or different in which ways?
• Where would you like to be in 5 yrs time both professionally and personally.
• Are you a dog or cat person?
• What's your favourite pizza toping?
• Tell me something naughty you did as a child.
• When you're cleaning the house, do you sometimes start singing 'whistle while you work' ?
• What should we name our first born ? (only kidding!)

I've learnt from the Catalyst show that doing something exciting, adrenaline producing, does bring you closer together. I find some conversations can be exciting in this way too. let's see if I have the guts to go deeper.

56 Days

Birthdays are huge to me no matter which age I am, I feel the clicking of time and life. I used to count the days from my brother and sister's birthday to mine, which was yesterday, it's 56 days. This year I'll be 40, so these 56 days are weighty.

Discussions are underway about the party. Being slightly wealth-challenged, I'll have it at home. Not easy in a 2 bed flat with my brother and his fiancee living there too. But I love the squashy party feel. The noise level of so many people conversing. Added to this, it will be the middle of winter (Im in the southern hemisphere, don't forget) and for Sydney this is about a 12deg night. So the theme is Russian Winter. Vintage Furs are required, Vodka shots and coal fires to be warmed by. My gorgeous friends are all offering to help decorate and prepare food/ cocktails.

Not being morbid, but situationally, I've been single on each of my important birthdays - 21st, 30th and now 40th. I'm not sure I want to start seeing someone before then, the pressure of an early relationship and then an important birthday is loaded. There is a strange dance of expectation on birthdays in the early stages. Firstly you have to tell them you have a significant birthday coming up, but emphasize there is no pressure. All your friends and family are celebrating and yet there is one eye on the new love interest. It's both a familiar and unfamiliar situation. Can he handle the attention just on you? can he be left alone amongst all your family, and what qu's will they ask ? Oh well, I've got 56 days to find out what will happen.

Fantasizing

I can't Fantasize anymore. The mental pictures you allow yourself to have when you meet someone. I don't mean the naked lusty one: they can be had just visiting the beach or pool or wherever you see nice male torsos.

It's the life-with-someone- fantasy. How you imagine a good partner will be, the together feelings, the companion thoughts, the things you can do together. You have a mental picture of one who will work best for you, prehaps a fellow cheese lover, or outdoor enthusiast.

You start mentally picturing life together when you talk, he'll tell you of holidays/ activities/ great experiences and you'd love to be there too. Then you hear about work or friends or family & it all sounds good. You can see yourself in that world. Equally he is interested in you, that look he gives of both softness and interest, the look that says he 'gets you'.

You explore more of life's desires, there is agreeance on places & spaces. Prehaps he is companion for all this. So you start fantasizing. The nesting thoughts, the easy company thoughts, the cheeky thoughts..you can see yourself doing that with this bloke. The rarity of this experience heightens this fantasy...finally someone to daydream about, someone to fill in the void.

Slam on the mental brakes! the hardest part is pulling away from the fantasy, it hurts more than the physical. Flesh pain is resitant, the mental life you've created is harder to repair & recover from, when a relationship, on the verge of becoming something, fails to start.

I like The Coach. He sent me a message last night. I'm still on holidays here in FNQ, back in a few days. Will look forward to seeing him again..but there are no fantasies. I'll just deal with what really happens, if it does and when it does...reality is the new reality.

F.O.S.

We all need it sometime. Similar to an S.O.S. Today Liz & I headed for FNQ, we had decided to F**k Off Somewhere. None of this mini-break palaver, this is about a head-space shift for the tired sydney-sider. A get-me-out-of-here shriek for an antidote to current life.

Far North Queensland is about 3 hours flying from Sydney. It's a great Somewhere. I came here 6 months ago for Mum's significant birthday and loved all the different things you can do. The reef, the rainforest, the tropical heat and thunderstorms, the fruit & fish.

Tomorrow is white water rafting. We will get seriously wet, scream our heads off & sleep like deflated rubber pools afterwards. Sleeping tonight is also aided by pink bubbles consumed at lunch, followed by DVD of 'Wall Street' found for $9.99 at Coles. Dont' want to tax my brain watching something new.

Also sorting how I feel about The Coach. Searching for someone never seems to take a break.

This is what White Water rafting looks like. 3 in the water, and the others laughing as they pull you in. I'm one in the water. Heaps Fun.

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.

High Maintenance

To me High Maintenace is about grooming. Having super straight hair, seeing a beautician for every need, and more annoying, being worried about your appearance instead of enjoying the people you are with. That's not me.

So was suprised to come across an old magazine article where a certain accessory was deemed 'high maintenance'. 100 men were asked to rate a date's clothing. Bare shoulders, plunging necklines, dangly earrings and silver shoes were rated highly. Ra-Ra skirts, stripey dresses, white boots and long thin scarves were not attractive. In one of the six pictures analysed, the nicest looking girl, to me, carried a large hangbag. A large modern printed carry-all. Kind of like the one I use. Huge, fits everything, the kind other women ask me where it's from. My women-envy bag.

Bulky Bag " She's high maintenance ! it looks like she's porting her life around with her." - was the comment.

Does a small bag evoke freedom? Out last night was new mother, Sonya, she was brandishing her small shiny clutch, a welcome relief from baby and sticky fingers. I could see her small bag symbolised her lack of responsiblity, her freedom gained temporarily.

remind me to switch bags before I go out.

Bad Date Karma Places

There are a number of pubs in Surry Hills, all re-fitted to modern inner city standards. Last night we chose The Dolphin, instead of the usual Clock or the White Horse which sits inbetween these two, all 200 metres apart.

While walking past the White Horse with its Italian metal horse sculpture on top, I was reminded of a fatal date I had there a few years ago. As I left the flat to go out, the current flat mate yelled out, "Oh, the White Horse, not a good place to meet a date, it won't work out." "why?" I asked, "They just never work out, It happened to me and a few others." The date was with MrBalconyView, our first, it didnt' work out & I was left to handle the after effects of that infatuation for another few years.

Last night, of the three pubs, the White Horse, was the emptiest. Not because it's a designer space or more expensive drinks, but I think it's a Bad Date Karma Place.

The Hollywood Hotel, a pre-war style pub, in the wrong part of Surry Hills is my pashing pub. You get good snogging karma there. The lighting is dim, the bands sometimes too loud or silly, so you end up snuggling up to your desired. Squash & Pash.

Do you have favourite places to take someone ? or do others consistently create the wrong vibe? don't leave the night to chance..! take heed the location vibes and choose well. Pash or Dash.

Profiling for a mate

When you list yourself on a dating site or attend relationship -finding events, you're generally asked what you are looking for. By being specific you think you'll get exactly what you ask for... tall, educated, well dressed, likes Duran Duran etc. Some profile questions you can be relaxed about..

Here's what I go through when selecting

• Age: 37- 43 (don't like them younger, dont' want them that much older)
• Height: at least 5ft 9in (I'm 5ft 6.5)
• Education: university level ( I have a bachelor and post graduate)
• Music: must like 80's
• Smoke: no
• Drinks: yes. (excessive drinking is no longer attractive !)
• Food: meat, yes. (no vegetarians)
• Body type: medium, fit, athletic (no fatties, no man boobs)
• Ethnicity: caucasian. (Been through the Italian/ French/ Argentanian stages.. not interested, not even English/ scottish/ irish guys. I like aussie blokes.)
• Star sign: virgo, libra, leo are best. dont like sag or cap & aqua' are weird. everything else is fine. cancer can be sulky.
• Dressing: hate sports sunglasses, those velcro-walking sandals, rugby jumpers except at the game. everything else can be changed.
• Relationships: would prefer a not married/no children background, but divorced is okay and so is' has kids but with the mother mostly' is okay. (I'm softening)
• Political: has views, but not too radical or too right.
• Religion: christian. (to be honest it's easier they are same, would prefer catholic, but any christian will do)
• Sport: must like exercising. If he's a swimmer, even better. Not a soccer, AFL or rugby league fan. More off the couch than on, for sporting interests.

this kind of self-selecting profiling is detrimental, because really I like blokes who are active, interesting, dynamic, well-mannered, nice looking/ well preserved, but not pretty, will try something, not afraid of different foods or cultures and can be taken anywhere & will get along with most people. doesnt' suffer fools and boring people.

and what I've just selected is not necessarily going to help me find what I've just described.

Right now, the bloke I dated the other night wouldn't fit that self-selection..he left school at 15, likes working class sports (soccer and league), is same height as me, is older than I think he is, is wrong star sign, but he's worldly, interesting, dynamic, adventurous, hard working, no kids, and many other things better suited to me, but not profile perfect. Scarily I wouldn't select him based on some criteria, such as education, yet he's top of his field and well respected.

lesson learnt: don't be too worried about self selecting.

finding the fit man

A few years ago I saw Elizabeth the psychic. Many things dont' make sense but she did mention stuff about TV & Films which is now true. I have focused on the few keys things she said about the next bloke, as you do.

The description was 'nice partner coming into life, caring, fit, kind. nice family. A boat, dogs, 2-3 children, you'll live near water - not in sydney, he'll have ppl in Noosa."

Since then, never in my life have I gone out with so many fit blokes. There's been marathon runners (he'd run to get the car the next day after big night out, a handy skill) , rowers, 6am gym maniacs, the surfing physiologist, a pentathete (the horses and archery kind) and now the fitest of them all, a motivational coach & fitness book writer, MrUltraFit, called for a catch-up.

All of them want to live near water, all want to buy boats... it's like a package, once they are fit, they want the other bits.

So the Ultimate Fit bloke, the one I kissed for a bottle of wine six months ago, emailed to catch-up. We meet in Chinatown for a quick meal, ended up talking until they cleaned up around us & stacked the chairs. And guess what? he just bought a boat, and is off up the coast to his dad's holiday house, you guessed it, by the water for the weekend.

Blog-versary

One year since I started this ! now I'm 130 posts down, the tv show has aired...but still no man.

In my obsessive astro way, I look for reasons why. I'm constantly looking at astrology sites to see what the stars are doing to my Gemini life. While I thrust myself into more embarassing dating situations, well, I now hardly blink at speed dating now...I just find it exhausting & RSVP is time consuming. I fantasize about someone parachuting into my life and getting entangled in the trees outside my bedroom. Then I think about drag-queen Paul's Dad who was caught in a parachute and couldn't have kids, so I scrap that idea. (the answer to this puzzle is Paul is adopted)

I think one day I'll wake up and be in a relationship & it'll feel like it always existed.

Pluto is to blame for my lack of relationships. I just listened to Jessica Adams' podcast on Pluto the planet of Control & Power. Apparantely it's been in my relationship sector (7th house) since 1995, and it's about to move to the house of finance and business. It completely mucked up my relationship house, like some over staying backpacker, preventing any other interesting guests staying. It's been a party pooper. So I had to be strong, get rid of this unwanted guest by exposing it, like some vampire to light, by blogging my relationship life & going on tv & doing ridiculous things like speed dating.

The pluto monster is now headed for my 8th House (of business & commerce). Best to vacate this house to the pluto beast. that's a good excuse to stop working!

spotted!

Thursday night followed art-opening friend, Tina, to Powerhouse for SmartWorks. Apart from art history Tina's skill is also knowing what beverages are served at which gallery openings...she is following the gin trail of art.

Just as she asked, 'has anyone recognised you from the Catalyst show', a nice young bloke tapped my shoulder to ask 'were you on tv this week?'. When he introduced his wife, she gave a fantastic wide mouth stare in recognition. The only response was to start telling stories about the filming. Then felt I had to shut up, stop being full of myself & ask them things...turned out they were exhibiting artists & Tina knew their works.

Others have been in contact. More texts messages from former daters, Mr Chatty called from the INXS concert to compliment my performance. Then MrFitManly emailed to catch-up.. he's moved into the city from Manly, much more convenient...so we'll see.

somewhere in amongst this list of activities will emerge...? what?

it must mean something!

When you're trying to discover the importance of a love interest, the female thing is to find 'meaning' in a many ways as possible. When he said, 'he'll call you later' you fervently hope he means it. Other conversations are dissected word by word to extract any camoflagued desire he is not admitting to directly. The amount of attention he gives you, the glances or stares, even reactions from his friends, all contribute to your hopes.

Friends can also encourage your hopes either by agreeing to your conclusions or telling stories of similar situations that ended happily. Hope lives in this method!

My on-going obsession with MrBV is made up mostly of these 'meanings'. There's been a few strong co-incidences recently. He has two close male friends, one called me last week, to talk about the TV show, the other was having lunch at my local & invited me to join him. My friend, Nicole, meet MrBV's sister last week & discussed his reluctance to settle down, both agreeing I would be a good choice, because of similar backgrounds and longevity of connections & that we get along. All this happened in 10 days.

Over the years, and this is where my long years of dating have taught me, using this method does not work. Dont attribute meaning to anything ! I can only believe in actions, not words or co-incidences. I'm hopeful by nature, believing things turn out well, but not this. It's driving me crazy to see these incidences as meaningful. Two years after meeting MrBV, nothing has happened. He's just a friend and I have to accept that.

Bugger all the positive thinking and wish fulfilment proposed by the self-help industry. Logic, common sense and experience are the mantras I will follow.

Strange Dreams

I love my dreams, the cryptic little buggers, that have me puzzling for the first 10 mins of the day. Over the years I've been able to sort out their jumbled scenarios & see what fabulous messages I need to learn or sort through. Sometimes I use an old dream book, by Quentin Watts who was on Triple J radio, she was always fascinated by the positive messages of dreams and that helped me be less frightened of some dream situations, especially the shameful ones, the naked ones, the death ones. Each is about processing reactions to the day and thoughts for the future.

Last night's dream processed the dating world to me and gave an answer to why I haven't met anyone yet. I was in a stationery store choosing wedding invites, the kind you pick & choose the combinations. Some were conservative, other were too feminine. I was looking for something more me - with a design edge, modern and different, and I had confidence in my skills of taste to make my own selection. It was very busy in there, like everyone was in a hurry. Some people knew what they wanted, others got help from their mothers, the assistants helped the neurotic ones decide, they ignored me as I seemed to know what I was doing. I took my time, I knew I could find it myself.

I spied an upper shelf with arty styles. On closer examination, they were artistically right but for gay weddings, ie. showing female/ female couples so I had to go back to the standard area. By then most of the cards had gone (go figure what that means!) I found one half but not the backing. Some cards were coming back, as they weren't right (another obvious message about divorcees and people back on the market) but these cards were a little soiled.. (ha!)

Finally I was handed a ready-made card package. It was in plastic, was the perfect colours (green and purple?) and came with matching envelope and all. Someone called 'Michael' said "you seemed to know what you were doing, so we left you alone, but the right one is here for you..and we're here to help you now."

The dream said, they may only be a few men left, compared to a whole shop full, but the right one is still there for you, and it'll just happen, because you are there & people want to help.

I've never been in a hurry to find someone, although I wanted to all the time.. I suppose I know what I want, just haven't found it yet. I've looked in the wrong places, whether the people were right for me or me for them, same result.

My small amount of panic was cured by a strange dream.

nil result

Its been a few days since the broadcast. One Aunt very kindly said I had a career in TV, which is fun to hear. Not sure I like the pressure of grooming and hair removal. So will retire now I've had my 15 mins.

Apart from friends and relatives (btw for those who know my family, neither my brother nor sister said a thing, not even 'I saw the show' , nothing, whereas Mum & Dad thought it was a good show & I looked great *sweet*) who all said positive things, I had one bloke who called to congratulate me on my lambada dancing. It was Mr BV's best friend. And another who should have bet his flatmates it was the chick from up the road on TV.

Last night was the NSW state elections. Was hanging out with one of the Liberal candidates at a local pub when we got a last minute call to fill-up the main Liberal Party's party; as they were about to conceed defeat and most people had left. On arrival immediately got the drinks organised & then scanned the huge ballroom. I was looking for a 'Josh' .. my fantasy political boyfriend (from the West Wing)...so that's the only reason I was there...not from some far-right political beliefs, just an ageing political groupie looking for an imaginary TV character at real-life event.

has anyone heard of an actor -slash- mortgage broker as a profession? she was the political groupie of the night, fishnet tights and all. didn't feel so obvious after meeting her.

The morning after

Well hope you enjoyed the Catalyst program & maybe learnt something about desire, dating and flirtation. Here's my summary.

Once you like the look of them, do a 4 minute eye stare, this developes intimacy. Take date to an amusement park, start on whimpy rides - finish on scary tumbling rides - this encourage libido and adrenaline. Then do a big sniff of their body odor - like or repell ? your nose will tell you if it's a good match, as much as your eyes & brain. Or as the show concluded, it's actually quite simple, when you meet them, you just like them. All the other brain chemical stuff is a dissection of all that goes on. The body does a lot to make life simple for us.

On my dating front, I got a text message from Mr Balcony View just before the show.
'I am looking forward to tonights show'
Because I just got a new phone (go three!) had lost all contacts and didnt' know who it was..so had to do the 'who is this' reply. Quelle shock when he texted back his name.
He's been invited to a gig tonight..wonder if he'll come.

review in The Age

"But it's Catriona's lambada training that evinces the most dramatic results: a key that unlocks her body language and turns her into a successful serial flirt overnight."

Article in The Age about tonight's program.

The show is on this week

The Catalyst show is on this week.

ABC. 8PM
Thursday March 22

another reason why I shouldnt' have been away at the silence retreat.

update: I've now seen the promos..quite horrifying. The filming was fun, but not this part, the edited results. I agreed to the ordeal because the ABC is a quality channel, so hopefully there won't be any sensationalised attempts to depict any of us badly. Think I may have done that by myself!

So if anyone does see it & have any questions about the show...just leave a comment. ! my own Q&A.

cheers, cat

fully sick

In Aussie hip-hop language, 'fully sick' , is an expression of amazement. In Cat's language 'fully sick' means I have a terrible head cold, and it's 32 Deg today.

The times are strange, my friend. Something is brewing.

I was meant to be on a 10day silence retreat (virpassana) starting Wednesday, but I was asked to be a Godmother in tomorrow's ceremony - Saturday 17th. Work has also exploded so best I'm here. My friend Liz was meant to be in Tasmania climbing mountains but her work has delayed that plan.

There are numerous invitations on the calender, The Christening , A Liberal Party function (you much understand, I have a crush on Josh, from The West Wing, so I think I'm living out those fantasies) and an Army friends' 40th. Next weekend is the state election as well as a Howard Jones concert. I would have been silently sitting in the Mountains, but fate has put me in Sydney for this time.

now, back to the couch, the tissue box, cold tablets & old episodes of the West Wing. Must get fully better by tomorrow.

freaky activites

I haven't really gone into the esoteric side of this bloke search. All the psychic stuff, the cards, mantras, wish boxes, crystals, feng shui....all the freaky deak stuff.

let me scare you a little..!

I saw two psychic's around the New Year. The first was Tarot, which cost $50, the second came to the holiday house, I think she was $80. This year is all good, with business and love all there...it felt good to hear positive stuff.

Each week I listen to radio programs, via the internet, on positive thinking, angel therapy & trusting your vibes on Hayhouse

I've watched 'The Secret' and 'What the Bleep' two DVD's on positive thoughts.

I've read Paulo Coelho (the alchemist & others), Erkhart Tolle 'The Power of Now' and regulary dip into Alain de Botton's 'The Consolations of Philosophy'

Then there's the astrology. Mystic Medusa is my favourite. I subscribe to her daily astro raves (a bargain at $2.50 a month). Her books 'Soul Mating' and 'Astro Guide' are invaluable for assessing a potential love interest.

Valentines Day I spent with Jessica Adams & the launch of her new book, Astrolove, and a talk on your Venus Sign (mine is in leo)

When in doubt (on a daily basis!) I consult on-line oracles, like Mystic's and Linda Hill's The Sabian Symbols. These witty or cryptic answers keep me amused and sane.

I have a wish box. Full of things that symbolise partnerships and love. It's covered in dust now.

The weekly flowers for the feng-shui love corner has been ditched due to disinterest.

Crystals bore me. I can't emote to a stone. It reminds me of the pet rock I used to have complete with stick-on buggle eyes.

I stopped meditating when the iPod was stolen.

What's left is this blog. My on-line friend. A little like a special invisible friend, who doesnt' talk back much, but allows me to rave on while sipping red wine in my nightie. good times.

Wish List

Just to prove, mostly to myself, that I'm not fussy, just haven't' met the right person, here's a list of What I want.

Someone who's

1. Real not Perfect
2. Loves his Job - but leaves it behind when he gets home
3. Likes 80's music
4. Taller than me (a few inches at least..I'm 5ft 61/2" - 168 cms)
5. Smiles easily
6. Chatty & Intelligent
7. Likes Swimming
8. Active
9. Can cook
10. Eats meat & drinks red wine
11. Evolved...ie. has worked on himself
12. more day than night person
13. can talk and drive
14. Fascinated by me.. (!)

Someone had 25 points on their wish list..I've only got 14. There is so much that's flexible. At one stage I wanted a bloke with darker skin. I'm the whitest person next to Nicole Kidman; so wanted to breed out my white skin. But don't care about that now... sun screen lotions have improved and all that.

No mention of physique - but hard to describe precisely...not too chubby, not too scrawny, but I like swimmers & active blokes, then it generally works out I like their bodies.

but really I've just described myself..am I looking for a male version of me??

Out There

When you talk to coupled people, explain your singleness & just to humour it along, because being single is just a huge joke, you ask them how they met each other. IIt usually is a series of meetings and discoveries until they realised it was pretty good & they did all the serious stuff to become a couple. So you ask them some advice & inevitably the phrase 'you just have to be Out There' pops up.

yep, Out There..

In the big bad world the coupled people left behind about 3, 7, 12, 23 yrs ago. And they haven't been back since, so they tell you 'get Out There'. Well I haven't left 'Out There' since I arrived here about 19 yrs ago, ever since I discovered blue cocktails & flashing dance floors. The drinks have changed colour & the floors no longer light up, or bounce as you dance on them. Dancing is now a home activity, taken on saturday nights in pyjamas.

And in the Out There world, you try all sorts of things to meet someone. Now the coupled people get interested: see they've read about the activities of being single in weekend news magazines. There is internet dating, speed dating, make-overs & compatability tests. So I explain all the things I've done.

* Internet dating -on RSVP.com.au
* Speed Dating - via Fast Impressions & the cheaper alternative Fast Date
* Speed Dinners

then everyday flirting involves..
* Chatting to random people in a pub
* Being friendly to barista's & greengrocers & bar staff
* Checking blokes out...cafes, train stations, in cars at lights.

then using traditional methods
* friends, family & work
* Recommendations via friends
* Blind Dates
* Attending every party/ bottle opening that anyone ever puts on. 'cos you never know who you will meet.

Joining Sports clubs/ political parties/ evening classes/ returning to Uni

(swimming clubs/touch footy/ gyms/ liberal party (maybe should try labor party?)/ painting/ french & italian classes/ back for another degree)

Travelling overseas by myself/ meeting up with friends overseas/ Working overseas

Yep, I've been Out There.

So eventually I went on a science show to improve what I thought must be a fault. Let Science show me the way!!

drat. still single.

Carriage F for Feral

This email came from a great friend, Tina, after visiting friends near Gunnedah, NSW. 8 hours by rail from Sydney. A perfect example of the great fun you can have with other people's children & the enjoyement of getting away from the city.

"I’m in carriage F, seat 31 (but have temporarily hijacked 45/46 as it’s near the power point for the laptop). F stands for Ferals. It’s what you get when you can’t afford ‘first class’ or better the no-discount local airline or even better your own car, let alone the 3 tanks of petrol it takes to get there and back.

The woman who sat opposite me in the original seat only seems capable of scowling at her delightful brood of four boys. They’ve all got thick streaks of blonde bands down the middle of their hair, like a pack of jackals. She told ‘Roady’ (named after Roald Dahl perhaps?) that she’d smack his face in if he woke her up again. However, the little one seemed most disconcerted when the train temporarily moved at Werris Creek to realign carriages and mum had gone out for a smoke. Every kid wants his mum it would seem. Just as I’m being incredibly pretentious one of the jackals comes and gives me my lunch – he’s helping out the man at the buffet car. I take it all back. I offer my inedible bread role to the old couple next to me (in the new position that is) and she says thank you missy!

I put Natalie Merchant’s Orphelia into gear and I float into another world. Not far enough not to notice that the man in front of me is reading his wife’s New Idea. He seems to spending an inordinate amount of time reading about Nic and Keith’s ‘secret’ hideaway. I thought you just looked at the pictures. And I thought secret meant secret. There’s obviously a lot that my university education isn’t teaching me.

The trip to the farm was a great tonic. I haven’t been there for 17 months and I really miss the open space and the kids. It was Pippy who rang to ask when I was going to visit her in the voice perfected for twisting Aunty around her little finger. Why is that I manage to resist most male pleas (actually all) and other adults’ reasonable requests but I turn to jelly when a little screamer calls me? Completely irrational. I managed to get a ride up with Sarah’s husband last Thursday but am slumming it on the way back. The Sydney cousins were up and eight kids built ‘Aunty Tina’s Kitchen’ with a banner that said ‘Aunty Tina’s Kitchen’ (maybe I’m destined to open a roadside diner?) and ovens, sinks, indeed the whole kit n’ caboodle. They had made me mud slice and mud cakes with sprinklings of charcoal for icing which were delicious. The girls are into horses these days, which consumes them when they’re not building Aunty Tina’s kitchen. I played soccer with the boys and demonstrated how pathetically unfit I am. I danced to the Best of Abba and Hits for Kids with the littlies and ate enough pikelets to last until the 2010s.

Every morning I did my pilgrimage to the top of the farm with views across the whole district and beyond. There’s something about the open space and the vast Piliga scrub behind the farm that I find compelling. At night the sky is filled with stars which you forget exist living in the city. The birds are different on the farm – there seem to be a plethora of parrot varieties in bright turquoise, reds, yellows and brilliant lime green that dart past, never giving me the chance to take a good look at them. The cattle always seem to be interested in human company and if you stand still enough a whole mob will come up and lick you (I walk on before it gets to that stage!). Fortunately they’ve received rain and the wheat crop was a reassuring emerald green."

Tables Turned

Ever since I turned 35, the media articles on womens' fertilty have been relentless. I feel haunted by my age & dare not tell anyone...'oh 35 are you ...not much time left dear..." The idea we only have 10% fertlity left, the worry of abnormalities & the stress on our ageing bodies. Let alone if we are single & have no time left to find a mate & start pro-creating.

The catch phrase 'biological clock' sends me into a frenzy of frustration. So much emphasis on the women's side of things. Where is the pressure on men.?..they seem to be lounging around waiting for some 27yr old to come dancing into their lives, ready to settle them, if they feel like it. There is a myth that men don't have this pressure. Once fertile, always fertile for them.

Finally, reading US Elle / March 2007, quoting a book by Harry Fisch MD -' The Male Biological Clock' ...here was the phrase men need to hear.. 'I'd always considered fertility a women's hassle...the guy is the culprit in 40% of cases.. (also) men have proven to be the causal factor in half the cases where both partners are over 35.' Mens' fertlity drops just as womens' does. In fact at 30, men begin andropause, a slow but steady decline in the production of testosterone (rhymes with toblerone) which aids in sperm creation & erections.

The article writer, John Meils, aged 34, has his sperm tested for fertility and worries, too, like women have, if he is fertile & if not & how this may affect his dating life.

Without a shred of schadenfreude I look forward to the balancing of articles in the media. Men are equal contributors to fertility problems, more so if they ignore the reasons why - particulary - age, smoking, weight, alcohol: the usual suspects. Finding a younger partner is not the only answer.

Lunchtime Talk

One of my favourite books, as a child, was 'The Secret Gardent' by Francis Hodgson Burnett. Last Christmas my lovely, recently-recovered-from-cancer Aunt gave me the exact copy I had read all those years ago. It was inscribed to her by her mother, dated 1950.

Reading over the holidays at Terrigal, I found both the story delightful, but a whole section of almost 'new age' ideas.

- thoughts create reality
- the power of positive thinking
- magic is everywhere

"Of course, there must be lots of Magic in the world' he (colin) said wisely one day, "but people don't know what it is like or how to make it. Prehaps the beginning is just to say nice things are going to happen until you make them happen. I am going to try and experiment."

Yesterday, at lunch was a talk at the State Library about the life of the author. I joined the short-haired, comfy shoe set for it.

You can read a summary of her life on Wikipedia, but I came out of the event, thinking, about the ups & downs of life. Harsh lives, poverty, marriages, deaths but also achievements and hard work. FBH loved gardens and found lots of joy in creating three of them, Long Island, Sussex & Bermuda. She was also a prolific writer, wrote 50 novels, but is only remembered for her 3 children's book (little lord fauntleroy, the little princess & secret garden). She was also reponsible for setting up author's rights on plays based on one's books, as copywrite & licence fees did not exist.

The talk gave me a greast sense of perspective. Life is more interesting with all the challenges and accomplishements seen as a sum total. Each moment is hard to understand sometimes, why things happen, the good & the bad...but it's a end result being anything from a mini-series, soap opera or cycle of weather, that it ends up looking like.

Each new event is adding to the story. It's just seeing that 'cat's life' is never dull, always interesting & she'll eventually find true love.

Breeze passing

I'm having all sorts of flip-flops and juxtaposed events recently. I start an affair & am robbed in the same night as well as becoming a Godmother. Yesterday in the post was a rejection letter from Paddington Markets, and the next letter was from the Lottery Office, I'd won a free ticket & another from some debt collectors for an old bill. Always threes...

This morning I needed to swim. Thrash through the water at my favourite pool, Boy Charlton, for two reasons, I've signed up for a harbour swim this Sunday & because my iPod was stolen, I needed to illicit the meditative qualities of swimming, as I usually meditate to Dorje on my iPod.

Life gave a third reason.

I got an email from TASF this morning, saying he was too busy at work & couldn't make any commitments as his life is crazy. So the offer of an Affair was scuttled.

As I read the email, I felt a faint breeze pass over my face. Like a door closing in front of me. There's been a few breezes recently. Things not going the way I want, boys falling through, things not arriving, opportunities delayed. I know it's Mercury Retrograde at the moment ( a time of blocked communication) but this is more than that. A whole shift is occuring & I'm still sitting in the middle of the storm , wondering where I'll land.

Baggage

We all have it. Some have formalized baggage to claim & others discover it as they go along.

A divorced person has obvious baggage. The focus of their split is their ex partner & the time they spent together, a big heafty piece of luggage. As a single person, a few boyfriends, flatmates & bottles of champagne are my baggage focus, not a matching set, but they all belong to me.

When you first get to know someone, the obvious baggage is brought out and discussed, not in a formalised sense, but you get a quick overview of someone's romantic life & start from there.

Because I'm interested in a divorced person, MrTypeA-SuperFit, his way of describing his needs is similar to other recent divorced friends. After the initial split, it's the regaining of freedom, the coming into self that is exhilarating, the discovery of possibilities...life opens up. There is all this time for yourself.

So I've watched them be freedom loving, trying all sorts of things & people. Without being a dampener they eventually come to the same conclusions that long term singles discover - it's not all that much fun being single & it's hard to meet someone you really like. It's not that easy in the end. There are very few people who flow from one sucessful relationship to another.

Over dinner with TASF on Friday night, he repeated he is not good boyfriend material (broken record!) and should I rethink the 'affair' proposal. ' Look at you, you're gorgeous, you should find someone!. he said. The desire is there, the energy is there, the bloody 'connection' is there (like some dating program...'we have this deep connection' they all say)

I got cross with him. Just sick of controlling myself, being good and following dating rules. TASF is a genuinly enjoyable person, I've just meet him at this time of his life. He's a bit messed up about what relationships can do to people. As Holly said to me yesterday, "Love now equals pain: you get the messages mixed up. As you spend time with someone different parts of your emotions are rediscovered. It can be scary feeling things again & you think towards the negative, even though it's enjoyable."

In the throws of a new relationship it's likely you will discover more new baggage. To extend that metaphor, you have to claim it, open it & deal with it. But it's the only way.

Interestingly TASF and I have discovered a another set of friends we have in common. The number of times we've been invited to the same functions over the last 4 years, but never quite met, is amazing.

12 hours of everything

Everything happens at once. The old feast & famine cycle.

Saturday afternoon I finished working at a trade fair. The response was so bad, I cried in the shower & wondered where life was headed to next. It was a low point. I'd put a lot of money into the fair & for all sorts of reasons it didn't work. I did the shower slump & let the hot water pummel me back to reason. I also had to pull it together for dinner with oldest married friends who were excited to try a new restaurant, Ottoman at Pier 2 (so new I can't find a link for it)

Before arriving I texted Mr TASF. 'hi, how are you? how's your week?" such a harmless message, so totally loaded with intention. I should really text 'hi, feeling like a good.... , how about it?"

A few harmless texts later I put my phone aside to enjoy dinner. The first surprise came when the wife asked me to be Godmother to their new daughter. Tears welled up. When you think so low of yourself & others put such trust ? The husband & I are old friends, old flatmates & big drinking buddies. A few years ago I stayed at their house before a work trip to Spain the next day. A few too many bottles of wine later & after hitting the pillow, I couldn't find the door in the dark & vomited all over the carpet. Second attempt I found the bathroom & did another chuck-chunder there. The next morning I was trying to scrap the red wine & tomato salsa leftovers off the carpet with a spoon. The bathroom looked like a slasher movie. So being asked to be Godmother is a delightful surprise
.
The restaurant had just opened so service was like Faulty Towers but with great food. When the main course arrived at 10:30, the new parents were beside themselves with tiredness & we couldn't stay much longer. The plan was to return in a month when the service was sorted, otherwise the view, food & interiors were divine.

Once, alone in the taxi on my way home, I found a few missed calls from TASF. Texting continued. He agreed to come over. It was time to announce my proposal to him, would he like to have an affair with me?

Of course, I was nervous, did a quick clean of the house, sans getting out the vacuum cleaner & brushed my teeth. It was 12:40am when he arrived. He was looking fit & clean, like straight from the beach. He could tell I was nervous & so we sat outside to talk a bit.

Boyfriends are hard work, I said, but an affair could be fun. I'm sick of life not being fun. 'I agree, he said, we can have an affair, I can even take you out for dinner! " Well in an affair we do strange things, like visit burlesque shows & I might even flash some lingerie at you ! 'I can even buy you some lingerie, he responded.

I continued. "It' s also annoying to get invitations for you with 'and friend' and you get questioned heavily about the person you bring. I just want to have someone along without the drama'. He finished my thought ' I can be your 'and friend' & you can be mine' 'perfect ! '

You can guess what we did over the next few hours. Sleeping was deep & relaxing after that. All those endorphins & oxytocin hormones are just great ! I missed them all !

The next morning I had made arrangements with friends for breakfast. I went to grab my iPod & saw only the detached cables lying around. Looking at my brother's bedroom door, which was ajar, I realised he was not home. The strange noises I'd heard in the night were not him coming home, but a thief who entered via the balcony door, now glaringly open. Recalling even the sound of my bedroom door opening during the night, I realised I'd been robbed & they had seen TASF & me lying asleep, post it all.

My brother's room had been rummaged through & a watch had been stolen. Only two items stolen, so easily put into a thief's pocket before they ran out, while we slept.

From business disaster, to godmother status, to affair commencement & early morning robbery. Did I ask the universe to stop making my life so boring in such a dramatic way?

affair, needs

I have the person in mind, but how to handle? from his late night text messages demanding my company I simply have to respond to initiate. Easy. too easy.

The problem is hormonal. So many of use would love to be 'a bloke' about sex. have it and not worry, but there is the oxytocin problem. The hormone that women secreet when they have sex. This is the bonding hormone that keeps you wanting the bloke more, even though he may be a shit & not that good, but you have this strange obsession with him.

In order to counter the oxtocin devil, will put myselft on hormone breaks. Do forced sabaticals away from Affair Object.

But what do I want ? to have fun. not just the physical, which is why it's an 'affair' ...

An affair implies dinners, drinks, flirtations, amusements, small gifts & convoluted emotions. To be involved/ not be involved. The back & forward of commitment & desire. And just to have fun.

So I texted him on Saturday night. My affair object. Can you guess who it is? the one who has texted me a few times. Mr TypeA-SuperFit.

The messed up, post divorce, superbly fit man in a classicaly olympian way from the party last year. Who called me 'the best flirt in the world' . He's the person I could have some fun with.

it's late...more tomorrow.

an affair

if you have an affair as a single person with another single person, is it an affair?

In the pursuit of a relationship & a real boyfriend, I am having no fun. It's been about following dating rules, behaving, watching for signals & being boring..! The pressure of being good, not doing anything silly is getting to me. Now I don't want to do anything stupid...done enough vomiting, pub pashing & drunk texting to embarrass me for life, but all the fun has gone. Dates are all sensible, asking the right questions & making judgements. So much effort!

So I'm thinking of having an affair. Take all the pressure off & have fun 'dates'. Some blokes are unsuitable. They are uptight, stiff & can't shake their things ( hips, I mean ) And married or men in relationships are OUT. They can't be spontaneous. It's a another cronically single bloke I'm looking for, but one who is unsuitable for future purposes, but knows how to laugh and wants a bit of a thrill.

You know all those things you'd like to do, but had no-one to do them with? Thinking of the burlesque club, going to Monster Trucks at Eastern Creek or flashing my lingerie at...being naughty but flirty.

Its also because I want to change my vibe. Not appear so tense & uptight. You know the rule where you attract others when you are more relaxed & in a relationship?

Now I have thought about it...and what rules will need to apply in order to survive... more later, but if anyone has any ideas? all ears..

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.

the speed of it all

If anyone had noticed: there were posts about a set-up by my friends with The Viking. The new rules of this blog prevent me from discussing on-going dates. Reason being, the weirdness of dissecting something that is on-going when the first few meeting/dates are unrealistic & hard to analyse, let alone post on a public blog (despite there being only 4 readers, it's still public) To prevent any new paramour from thinking, rightly, that I'm weird and possible deceptive by posting my life on a blog...I won't post until either after or not at all....depending on if it's a good story too!

So now I can post, because, dear readers, after 2 dates, it's over. Meeting No. 1 was a friend's BBQ. Date no. 1 was a film ...at the lovely outdoor cinema and involved drinking the second bottle of wine in the park until after midnight. Date No. 2 was dinner. In between the dates was the email marathon. At least 5 emails a day, each. It kept the rhythm humming, the thoughts ticking over. The pinging of the inbox was an indication of something continuous.

The dinner date was nice, but I thought he was a bit stiff. He didn't ask me anything..and I had dropped hints.... like 'oh, I will talk about why I'm on a TV show, but I need a few drinks..." After dinner we bought gelato & sat in the park, incidentially, where lies Miss Haversham's grave (yes, from Dickens). The night was warm & still, the grass even smelt in the warm air. Perfect night pashing moment. But he remained eyes fixed straight ahead. You can't flirt with a stick, so I decided to go home. It was a technically good date. All the elements but no heat.

They say a man works on gut reaction. Something happened that night that hit his gut. Well after six days it was time to 'out' him. Get in contact & call his bluff. I just hate it when they do it first. Men will just ignore you if it's not going to their liking. The old silence trick. This was text book. Even phone calls went to voice message. Now he would have to say something to stop me contacting him. I was more concerned about seeing him again, amongst the friends who had set us up. Just wanted to do the deed. Say I could tell what was going on.

The email came through around lunchtime, saying he was sorry, he can't pursue anything beyond a friendship. I picked up my phone & deleted his number.

happy but hard to take

I will hate myself for this. Being guilty for having these thougths & feelings. but the news my brother proposed to his girlfriend just made me upset. It was a selfish upset. A pitying deflating feeling came over me. My favourite cousin had her 2nd baby this week & my brother is getting married. (well, again actually) I'm just the last one left. The last one in my whole family, and being the eldest it's harder. And I didn't expect this.

i'm crying right now.

you know when you're little & you think love is just what happens to everyone. it happens in some magical time anywhere from high school, or uni or work.. well I'm still looking and waiting & hoping. I have the most close together family & everyone has stayed married, or keeps getting married. Yes, I feel like a freak. Like I've got a big hairy moustache & no-one is telling me. Because my mind/ deflated ego is just tired of being the big love loser.

So that's why I went on the Science flirting program. I hoped I would learn something about my mistakes, or lack of something, what was the big barrier to me finding happiness in love. You look for reasons why. That I hadn't meet the right person, not trying hard enough, not being opened to all types...I 've both heard & thought & been told of all of them. And I tried almost everything, so I can tick so many boxes on my attempts.

So I wonder if life has something different for me & If so do I have the courage to pursue that. My business is okay, but after 5 years of doing this work, I am tired. The financial as are not what I expected & it's a struggle. I don't feel attached to it any more. I could give it all up, so easily it's frightening. You keep going because that's all you have.

It may well be there are decisions to make in the next 6 months, as I can't keep pursuing this course. Living the life of a person in a relationship, ready for one, but it's false. Choices are becoming both limited and more open depending on how I want to see my life. limited in terms of having children. Open in terms of a career...no...it's a life pursuit, as a single person with something else to do.

The Running Away is getting stronger. The world is a constant reminder of a life I don't have & need to shift these thougths, as they won't do me any good. The first thought was to attend a Vripasahana silence retreat where you are in silence for 10 days. A good chance to clear my mind, get away & not spend any money!

Usually what happens is I wake up one morning feelling better & this attack has subsided.

Anyway I may delete this post. As it may depress me to read my sadness.

The panic

One day the show will air. The Catalyst program on the science of flirting, the one where I learnt to flirt more.

It was filmed over 3 months last year (2006) with a projected airing date of Sept 06. Now the airing date is June 2007. Quite possibly around my 40th birthday. What a piece of timing. The slow panic of both the birthday & the show is excruciating. Waiting for the final Harry Potter book has nothing in this.

I haven't really discussed the 40th. Still clinging to my 30's. Being 40 means some marker of adult hood, more so than 30. 40 has finality & expectation & time running out... Some things you can no longer do, like nightclubs & the latest bar & puffy skirts, but also marriage & kids ... maybe this will never happen to me. It's not like the media is influencing my thoughts or anything...

Everytime I see a psychic, and I've seen 2 recently, they say I will get it all.. the marriage, a lovely husband & kids... just, it must happen soon. I am realistic & optimistic, I don't often have such thoughts & can snap out of moods...but this is different. It's about the direction of life. Where I'll be in 5 years time. This feels like the most presured time of my life. So much will either not or will happen.

I have thoughts of running away. Stories about Cambodian orphanages & Bangladeshi crippled kiddies are attracting my attention. Can I take my 2 degrees in Theatre & Marketing & teach the underdeveloped world about Mid 20th Australian Theatre & The 4 x P's of marketing? or maybe just teach swimming and cricket ?

If anyone else has gone thru this, please write back. What to do at 40.

A magical tent

We went back to the Spiegletent on Saturday. The last night had an air of 'the-place-to-be' to it. With plans to meet at 11pm, it was wonderful to see 10 of us there. We were all the in mood to try something different, be different. Even our clothes. We each had a touch of eccentricity to us. Glittery tops, wild earrings, tailoured pants for men with proper leather shoes...no trainers. What had that old German wooden tent done to us ?..brought a bit of swagger & swish to our evening.

The band, Juke Baritone & the Swamp Dogs, played long forgotten tunes. The amplification was non-existent. This was loud crashing instrument music. We danced in ways we had never done. Bending knees like a country fair or beer hall. Swaying to cabaret sounds. It was not an evening we had ever experienced and yet we all fell into its rhythms.

Couples were dancing and kissing like the war was over. Men grabbed us to dance 50's style. We felt like women, all hips and hair tossing. Men did the asking and guiding of moves. Neither sex dominated either.

Where was our modern 21st century too cool Sydney attitude? The tent had transported us to another era of entertainment that we created, not just scantily paid attention to while waiting for a more important text message or person to arrive.

Resting between dances, we leaned against the timber and mirror columns. How is this structure so impermanent? Floors of parquetry, booths of wood, mirrors & stained glass windows. The only clue being the vaulted dark material ceiling. The tent is a little like ourselves. Sometimes we feel so sure of our lives. How we spend our time. What we do and don't want. And then it passes & we feel different. Just a phase, or a re-occuring theme? In this case an experience that fun can be had in other ways, so easily, yet we rarely experience it. We can dress differently, move to different music without having ever heard it before. There were no reviews, we just went along, knowing the tent would work it magic, and it did.

Domino Theory

some call it the tipping point, I call it Domino Theory.

There is some trigger to behaivour. Last year we all bought houses (or rather, all got mortgages!) Being such a champagne theorist, as I am. I've proposed that 2007 is the year of the relationship (and 'the torso', but they go hand in hand ! ) now this is because Suzy is in a relationship. She is one of the core. And this relationship is a good one. It's an integrated one. She is happy, we like him, & they are doing stuff together & seperately & it's ticking along nicely.

Suzy is the lead domino. We are all about to fall into relationships.

Australia Day

sometimes it not about the destination, but the journey. So very 'The Alchemist'

2007 is the year we get a relationship. I'm convinced of that. By me, I mean all my friends. The tipping point has begun. But what we do until this happens is what we did on Australia Day.

January 26th, was the day Captain Cook landed in Botany Bay & declared this country for England & later for it's over burdened convicts. This is not a history lesson it's a NOW lesson. Australia Day never meant much, doesnt' have the patriotism of Anzac Day nor the wintery long weekend for the Queen's Birthday. It occurs during school or uni holidays & feels like a extra day of Summer. Over the last few years our sense of patriotism has increased. Theories abound, from our sucess at sport (particulary the Sydney Olympics 2000 ) to the enthusiasm of Generation Y as why this day is now popular. Someone finally joined our patriotic dots and found our mutual love of water, bbqs and relaxing could be all enjoyed on the one day all together. Hence Australia Day is a national holiday for having a BBQ with friends, preferably by the water & uttering words like 'why would you be anywhere else?"

Holly has an apartment right on Sydney Harbour. complete with grassy bits & a BBQ. If you could Google Earth her address you'd see it next to the Prime Minister's house & Harbour Bridge. Nice.

Dragging jugs of Pims, plates of chicken sandwiches I joined her & 20 friends on the lawn. Nicole & Liz's kids were jumping off the walls into the harbour. The emerald green harbour. Before I could peel back the glad wrap on the sandwiches I had my togs on & dived in. Delicious. Floating in the Harbour, looking at the scene, I just had to shake my head. Why would I live anywhere else?

We are over being sophisticated adults. We hold & chair the meetings, deal with senior staffers & have titles like 'director' and 'owner/ manager' . We know which bar to drink in, which resturant to go to, and can tell the difference between Verve & Moet - a huge leap from Pepsi vs Coke ! So it's the simple appreciative side which enjoyed Australia Day. The part of you that couldn't care about wet hair, junk food & warm wine glasses. I can have sophisticated any day I want ! but that day. that warm, glorious day filled with sunbaking, wet towels, cold showers after harbour swims & melted tims tams, was the best.

One in, all in. Swimming in the ocean & getting a boyfriend, that is.

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.

O-V-A-H

when you are really getting over someone, there is often a moment when either you hear something, see them & not feel a great reaction or simply the love goggles have fallen off & they are revealed a normal human. This moment is the OVAH moment, it's over, or spelt out, O.V.A.H.

I'm going to see MrBalconyView on Saturday. He's going to Tanja's party & I couldn't give a stuff. why's that? because I have exhausted my interest. My hamster love for him, that spins around going nowhere, has just realized the wheel will only stop if I stop running. And I've stopped. Firstly I want something real. A playmate, a boyfriend, a partner. Not a series of difficult situations where I have to figure it all out, jigsaw the meaning of our time together, understand what he means, wait for phone calls etc.

but what really did it was a piece of information. The bit that figures him all out & you kind of knew it anyway. Someone knew someone who works in the HR dept at MrBalconyView's company. Apparantely he has a reputation for flirting with all the new girls, the 10 - 15 years younger than him staff, who all think he's boring & old. (he's 38). go the smarter younger girls who see that! No wonder he likes his job... the constant parade ground of younger women.

When I was 25, there where a few older guys around. I remember lunch one day, the 40yr old picked me up from work in his Porsche, took me to lunch with his friends where the conversation was all sleaze. Telling me how virile they were....their houses, cars, holidays etc. Bored me to tears. Not impressed by possesions. Your attitude and ability to embrace life is more my style.

so that killed it for me, once and for all. The knowledge he is looking in one direction and I'm looking the other.

looking forward to meeting The Viking...oh, not meant to think about that!

Found Him!

It's Sydney Festival time & the hottest ticket is 'la Clique' at Spiegeltent it's a gorgeous 1920's German wood & mirrored tent featuring a cabaret/ circus/ burlesque show. 350 people were cramed into the place to see the likes of Captain Frodo who bends like a rubber man through two tennis rackets & Bath Boy who trapezes from bath to ceiling in wet jeans. My face was sore from laughing all night.

A friend of a friend had organised it & I got the last of his 10 tickets. We meet early to enjoy the outside gardens around the tent. Introduced to David & Margaret, who were asking each other 'where's Brad?' my ears pricked up, Brad! my psychic's suggested lover-to-be's name? Maybe this is it? ! Brad is on his way...I am to meet him & know this is it, the meeting of my life is about to occur. Being forwarned of my potential lover's arrival was not the pleasure I presumed. Would he know I was his one? was he looking for Cat, ie. me?

Brad arrived. I was confused, what do you say? 'hi, I've been waiting a long time for you? ! " He was introduced, he looks nice, I thought. He stared at me, questioningly, 'Do I know you?' he said. I looked to him, noting his face & could see no recognition, 'No, but we'll have to do a background check, maybe we live in the same area". 'What's your surname? " he asked. I told him. I could now feel a strong blush rising. 'Oh, I know your sister, went to Uni with her & I've been to your shop" I now recognised him.... the interior designer's gay colleague.

Now to meet a straight, available Brad, actually any name will do. Such a Sydney moment.

Brad, where are you?

(background music: Chaka Khan " This is my night")

The change of year brings about so much & the best way to deal with this...is to see a psychic! At the Terrigal beach house we had Rayleen come and read for us. I have the whole thing on tape, promoting the search for my old sony walkman...anyhoo...where are the boys is my only question. She said 'who's Brad?' I know no Brad at all, save Mr Pitt. So now the search is on.. am concerned I am super influenced by that name & will stupidly focus only on that!

A few years ago I saw Elizabeth, who threw the names 'Tom' & 'Peter' at me. Another complete blank. If only she'd used 'Chris' or 'David' I would have gone back to see her.

NYE

A few months ago Liz & I decided to escape Sydney. We've seen the fireworks time & again but it's also the constant singleness, and NYE is another whack in the face.

I wanted to sit on a beach, with a bottle of Verve, friends & a gentle breeze. While the seaside town did it's best to get reeved up & celebrate NYE.

Terrigal was the place. 1.5 hours north of Sydney & we found a townhouse for the week. The relief of this organisation has been more satisfying than I could imagine. To know what you are doing on NYE for 6 weeks in advance is a new & enjoyable emotion.

I'm sitting here now on January 1st. We had the loveliest and funniest NYE. After spending the day at the beach, we slept, read trash mags & organised a ritual.

We each wrote issues both positive and negative from 06 & what we want from 07. We took candles, matches, bottle of wine & the four of us chicks all had hibicus flowers in our hair.
I sent out my NYE text message to everyone 'Good bye to difficult 2006, Hello to all the possibilites of 2007. As the late James Brown said 'I feel good''. Of the 20 people I sent it to mrBalconyView was the first to respond 'hope you are having fun in terrigal'(21:50pm) I wasn't going to respond but the next one shocked me. It was a picture message of the plant I gave him for his housewarming in May. 'look at your bamboo'(22:52pm) it said. Liz said 'if he behaves then maybe it will work out". I was determined to respond, but not just yet.

As we headed to the beach for midnight other groups emerged from the beach houses to do the same. The glo-stick family wandered by, the beer boys made suggestions & we ambled by with our woven tray of offerings for the new year.

Toasting ourselves from the sheltered rocky outcrop with the sounds of the Terrigal hotel noises in the background, Liz went down to the shore to burn her notes. She was soon approached by a young bloke. Tim who works for an investment bank He and his friends had hired a $10,000 apt on the beach & had some illegal fireworks they had set off on the beach. He kept telling us we were 'down chicks' which I think means we are cool.

We were encouraged to come back to his apartment. The other girls were all taking Tim aside & asking who we were & that we couldn't stay the night....so much drama. We left to wander home & enjoy the fact that we didn't need a taxi.

Once home I texted mrBalconyView. 'Terrigal has been the right choice. Hope you also make the right ones this year. I had no idea the lucky plant was doing so well. Ditto 4 yours at mine (he gave me a plant for my housewarming). See you some time soon." (1:52am)

no response, but that what I was trying to burn. My need to hang on to the idea of him

torso year

After Aunt Helen's advice to dream about sex more, I had a vivid dream of a male torso, a nicely muscled sporty one. Telling the girls the first morning at the beachhouse, how while waiting for the fish and chips last night, I was watching the kayaker's pull their kayaks out of the water. Mesmerised by their lovely male torso's it put me in the mood for more beach action in our holiday week.

We discussed manifesting in the morning. Wanting something, asking the universe to make it happen...actively asking for things. At the moment the parking fairy is being good to me. So Wanted to test this theory a bit more.

I would like to see more torso's. More men on the beach pulling out surf ski's. Torso Candy is what I asked for. Hours later after a morning on the beach I was still shocked at the outcome of that request. I was lying on the beach after a good long swim & was looking around. Out to sea was a gathering of kayakers. They started paddling into shore, thinking they were headed for the surf club, further up, they paddled straight towards us. smack onto the beach in front of us. A Dozen men in speedos, getting of the water, hauling their kayaks. From behind our sunglasses, Liz & I were stunned. It was not just proof of the power of manifesting, but that it happened in such a dramatic & humourous way.

so I'm calling 2007, the year of the torso.

back from hols

i've got a lot to catch-up on...so bear with me as I summarise the last month!

Advice from Aunt Helen

Xmas was a day of brunch, lunch & dinner consisting of ham, seafood & pinot noir, three times over. Luckily I have the consitution!

Late into the night I sat down next to Helen, a sort of aunt, whose about my mum's age. She's been a single mother most of her life, and retired recently from law. Smart, funny & still has a cigarette after dinner. She asked me 'what's going on ?" I knew she meant my love life. "nothing, they are out there...but I'm just not connecting" I thought of MrBalconyView, Mr TASF and all the other dates of the year. "do you dream much about sex? " she asked. As an avid dreamer, I confessed to halting those dreams. too painful. 'You've got to dream more about sex". We ran out to the balcony, both grabbed cigarettes as she told me more..

"Stop talking!" she said" "just look at them, long, straight & just... "let the heat rise?, I said "exactly! then wait for it to reach your loins & bingo ! get straight to a room! " What else? , "just before you go out, touch yourself, get yourself ready. You'll be prepared to look deeply at him, with satisfaction. Do you have a vibrator?" , "No" I said, "well I'll come shopping with you! ". Love that woman!

Dream more, stop talking, look at him, let the heat rise & get a vibrator. It wasn't just a penny dropping it was a brick to my head. Now to find someone to look deeply at!

what happened next

a big nothing. a big predictable nothing. why predictable? because he does nothing to start or initiate a date or even regular contact. and that is the most telling behaivour of all.

So ten days after seeing the film, I had one of those female emotional moments. It was the night of my dad's birthday (dec 23rd) Surrounded by such greatfamily, full of good foods (zuchini flowers on the bbq with rose champagne) I just want to have someone to share that with...a really basic emotion.and at nearly 40 it's time to experience & share this feeling.

A bursting feeling came over me. A monster of desire birthing from my throat and mind. I had to text mrBalconyView. just something simple. but just some bloody contact. No longer wanting to be predictable, my new self is more demanding of my emotional needs.

it was almost 10pm, but, oh well, why sleep when you have desire on the brain? "hi, just to say hello. hope you are good and catch up some time soon."
my expectation was he would ignore. So I started getting ready for bed, within10 mins I heard my phone beep. I choose to keep brushing my teeth, and slowly went to the phone to see the message. " I'm good. at home chilling. merry xmas. hope you are well.would be nice to see you soon"
My heart just started beating stupidly widly.
for the next 50 mins we texted back and forward..fun but he shifted the conversation from anything serious & didn't solidify any dates. "going to bed now. have to finish xmas shopping tomorrow. Are you alright?"
the last part was the stopper. Did he think I was unhinged? I felt caught out with the comment.

another day where I swore under my breath about my behaivour & vowed to get over him.

hard to describe

The whole evening was fun. I really enjoy his company, like staring at his face, clicking along with thoughts & stories & it's all really easy. The slight sexual undertones are a long forgotton addition to the event as well. Whether those undertones are just mine is still undecided.

over a cheap meal after the film we discussed his female friends. Some of whom he has dated briefly & some make moves on him every now & then. One particular chick is stunning. A perfect corporate barbie. Flowing blonde hair, perfect cheekbones, slender & loves a tight red dress. He dated her once & thought no. She makes moves on him sometimes & he has to put her back into place. I think she's the chick that boys want to date, but not in reality, as her appearance is time consuming. My comment was I like to think I can dive in the sea & not worry about my hair. she is the complete opposite. Grooming comes before joy.

I brought up his friend MrTASF and the text message saga of last week. He said he never discusses stuff like that with him, not unexpected, but was sympathetic to what I saw as his friend's unhappiness at life's outcomes. It was good to be honest & I liked his response.

The only other time I went out with Chris, almost 2 years ago, we sort-of kissed in the car after I drove him home. Considering we never went out again alone, I figured I would not repeat the same mistake. The traffic was bad near his house & it was decided he'd get out and walk...no biggy, as the night weather is glorious. I pulled the car in, turned to say goodbye & the lean-in from him was quite strong, so determindely, I went straight for the cheek. God those moments are so etched on your mind for days after. The small breaths taken between those actions are less than 3, yet are the only ones remembered all day. As he jumped out he smiled at me thru the open roof with such a soft penetrating gaze I just savoured it all in.

A few minutes after I got home, holding my phone & thinking of messages to text everyone, it went off. 'at home thanks for a good night' chris. oh, the small joy of that text.

I am not deluded. He's a great person. But is it timing ? is the feeling not reciprocated ? I don't know. But I do know I am his friend & he is good company. In the words of Madonna Esther Louise Ciccone Ritchie.. 'just let it be"

film in a few hours

just want to remember this moment. It's 2 hours before I meet Chris (mr balcony view) for a film. This is history making. In the last 2 years we have always been in groups, at parties, functions etc. never alone. That's right - never just us.

So preparations, Well Mystic has already blogged my date preps... will take my own advice!

Dating Advice From A Gemini
8/12/2006 10:33:49 PM
"lots of scrubbing of skin with salts in shower then , my fav, is sipping ice cold vodka mix while rubbing light scented oils onto skin after shower. rub oil all over arms & legs for glossy limb look.(pat dry with towel if too oily) ideally have swim in ocean morning of date. you will be a heady mixture of oils and ocean,with the grace of a gisele bunchen on catwalk, due to vodka confidence. if you drink white wine at date, put a few ice cubes in glass, it will stop you getting too drunk. The Gemini Fashionista."

All my friends have given great advice & are demaning a text update later tonight. It could be nothing, but I think it's something. I sense a fundamental shift.

Liz said " he gets three bites of the cherry" i.e. referring to the amounts of times I've had Chris it-should-happen moments. This is number three

Alison said "Don't confess, don't say anything you'll regret...be cool" wise advice as she knows my ability to blab inappropriately.

Lisa said 'my husband, when I confronted him at the beginning after a six month friendship, denied even liking me. He was soon jealous & changed his mind when I dated someone else."

Nicole said " go for it " with all her positivity and directness. No pfaffing about with Nicole.

The best was Tanya. She recalls a long conversation with Chris (mrBV) about cars. That you know exactly what you want from your next car, but not your next relationship. Could I play that game, 'if I was a car, was type of car would I be?"

chris is downstairs...

I'm upstairs in the office above the store. All day I've had meetings, long sales with customers & been a talking machine. The store manager calls me from downstairs. "chris is here to see you". I usually don't hesistate to help on the shop floor, particulary at this time of year, but who is 'chris'? it's a thursday afternoon. it's not chris/ mr balcony view?

IT BLOODY WELL WAS.

Standing in the store, looking all unshaven, healthy & relaxed. He has taken a week off from work, is enjoying himself & decided to visit. We stood around, talked life, concerts, parties, our friends, 80's music. 'I haven't seen you since the INXS concert' , 'you look well'..... he said. He's just lovely, so gentle, funny, told stories. I was trying not to over-think, not to expect, just enjoy. He is hopeless at initiating anything. So I asked if he's seen 'Casino Royale' 'oh, i've got all the books, but no, I haven't seen it yet' he doesnt say anything else. I know the next step is to suggest seeing it together...

we continue talking and then I did it.... I suggested we go & see the movie. he said bloody yes. It's momentous. we are both in a stand-off position, have been for years, I don't ask, he doesn't ask, we only see each other if our groups are co-alligned for some event. The tragedy is we were both at U2 the other week, both lined up for the same train home at midnight. I 've had enough of the coincidences. time for action.

So there we are making notes about seeing the film. 'I'm at a bbq, but would be good to leave at 5' 'okay i'll text you some time on sunday, the 6pm session? ' good, good.

a few moments after he left I was stuned. Luckily there is a pub across the road from the store...the hot humid afternoon called for corona's. We found his sunglasses on the counter, shortly after.

I called him...he said 'I was so excited to see the movie, I must have left my sunglasses behind'

will sleep well tonight.

texting rally continues

the last post was Friday afternoon. I was buggered & looked forward to a night on the couch, with episodes of West Wing & My Name is Earl, to watch. Friday is not my end of week, I work in the shop on Saturday & the markets on Sunday.

Was not to be. A new text arrived from MrType-A-SuperFit.
6:45pm "Well I never like playing reserve..so why don't you text me to see what happens?"

6:50pm " I'm texting. what happens now? I know how you get to be my star player, play by the rules"

7:13pm "I will text you later..you should come around to my place later..what rules do you want to play by..."

then the phone rang. He suggested dinner. Now I haven't seen him in 6 months, so actually meeting was going to be more productive.

He is a massive guy. Very muscular, tall, glasses, classic Type A. Very Fit, Bright, has 16 letters after his name on his business card. No dummy. But emotionally damaged. And very drunk.

His presense was very powerful, he was full of compliments, kept wanting to hold hands, spoke of how he thought of me constantly, but, in his words, was not boyfriend material but was up 'for fun'. I pushed back, didn't bite, and physically pushed him away. Being drunk he wasnt' aggresive, more playful.

He started telling me how much he admired me, respected me & my business. Told me how hard it must be...and it just hit me at once, I started crying. Not sobs but stress tears, watery eyes, hot tension leaving me. He put his hand on mine & it felt wrong. There are times when you cannot be touched by someone when you are crying and especially if you know the person is more manipulative. I didnt' want him to take advantage as by then I knew it would go no further.

The restuarant was emptying so we left for the pub across the road. Standing outside he asked for a hug and just sensed he was wounded in some way. He wasn't dangerous just misguided. He tried to pash me, but I pushed him away. It was time to go & I drove off home.

The next day, while at work, was the moring text

11;22am " Remember I am on the reserve bench..If you want we can be good for each other with the occasional...it is up to you...one think you need to be clear on though is I am not boy friend material..I am to much of a mess @ the moment" (yes, he has a blackberry, hence the long text)

reply: 'oh well, I'll just leave it"

I called shortly after as the whole 'mess' thing was weird. Why was he such a mess? work was good for him, he said. So I asked after his recent divorce. He was separated living with his sister when I meet him 6 months ago, what had happened since?

I asked" have you signed the papers yet? it is actually official?"

he signed them on Thursday.

midnight text rally

being the culture animal that I am, just got back from the theatre last night (moliere is over-rated) to find a text message from MrTASF. Another booty call text; demanding I go to him & satisfy his needs. As if...in the words of Cher Horowitz. Haven't seen the sod since May. What urges have come over him, I dont' know. My fabulosity is obviously slow to digest.

Was indignant at his suggestiveness, and each request came with the coda 'just for fun' or 'it will not go futher than the physical'. My responses were 'not interested', 'texting is lame' & 'not budging'. I switched my phone to silent and watched him call 3 times. Called him soon after that as sick of the text rally & couldn't go to sleep. Imaging he was home drunk, it turned out he was in the city. He tried his invitation out again: I just told him how offended I was with the first text message the other week. He did understand and apologised. The phone call ended soon after.

This morning's text was 'cat - you handled that very well last night....Although it would have been good fun if I had got my way...Anyway apologies for being so forward..TASF.

reply: 'apology accepted. I'm prepared to wait 4 the right bloke. Its more than sex. You understand. cat x'

'cat - you have the right approach but occassionally you can give yourself a break..After all @ the end of the day we are all human & I know iit is a great way to releave stress...TASF'

reply: you can be on the reserve bench then. however you might want to be some one else's star player'

And I told him the first message was shown to all my friends & I posted it on my blog...which is the first time he's heard of it.. I think he didn't quite catch what I was saying, cos I said it quickly. An enjoyable sneaky moment.

it was easy to flick off these messasges. So not interested in the pure physical. My challenge is to wait & find, then enjoy the right person.