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!