Monday, October 27, 2014

How many Neurosurgeons does it take to screw…

Hey, that wasn't going to be 'in a light bulb..?'  It was going to be screw with your sanity!

I have put up with my whacky brain giving me grief time and time again and mentioned a thousand times that ‘they’ll kill me’ at some stage.   Now the time has come to start taking action for the sake of my health/life!


If you happen to be a neurosurgeon reading this; please note.  You are not God.  You are not even close.  If you don’t lift your game and admit that maybe the patient knows more about her body than you do – you will kill someone.

For me; I need to go through my record and understand exactly what they’ve done to me; and what mistakes they’ve made before I do anything.  I suspect that won’t be pretty!

My Dad always used to say that doctors are the ones that get to bury their mistakes.  He wasn’t wrong on that score!

Friday, October 24, 2014

God 'slash' fuckknuckle complex

Before I begin, excuse my errors. I'm forced to blog via iPhone since I'm I hospital and there is no wireless! Worse, my fingers are like chipalattas; and then spellcheck intervenes and creates hell...

So weird statements that may turnup through here aside, I decided to blog on the startlingly horrific, comedy of freaking errors that is 'the patient journey!'

Obviously, unlike my normal rants, this will be kept short but ill ensure to expand when I get home. 

Just one question. Who the Hell is teaching these fools how to be doctors...?

Monday, October 13, 2014

Walk a crooked mile…

To see another God damned crooked smile!

 

The smile on the right is mine!
The smile on the left may be exaggerated; but not by much!

WTF is that about..?  Seriously?  How do you get to be in your fifties walking around with teeth jutting out at weird angles?  I’m almost certain there is a mirror in every house; which therefore leaves me with the theory that there is a whole slew of idiots out there that cease to see their real self.

I actually work with a guy who I suspect has a magic mirror.  He gets older and wider (and more anal); yet the “perfect woman” he is looking for is young, rich and positively svelte.  It’s as though he can’t see what he looks like anymore, preferring to see the younger version of himself when he looks in the mirror.

I’m pretty certain I don’t do that.  I’m not by any stretch of the imagination perfect.  I’ve got extra kilos – but I like them.  I’ve got laughter lines!  My skin isn’t as taut as it once was (I’m not sure it ever was lol).  Gravity is pulling me down!  But I make an effort with what I’ve got.  I’ve got a gap between my teeth (which I like and choose to keep – arguing with my dentist every, single, time!) but at least they are straight and white!

I mean I’m picking guys that are either my age, or in some cases 6+ years older.  Hell, they’re no Mel Gibson but then, Mel Gibson is no Mel Gibson these days; and truth tell, I want to see some lines.  Craggy is my thing.  I’m not looking for a washboard stomach; I want to hold onto something at night.  Who wants to spoon with someone that is sharp edges..?

So what is with parade of dates with a mouth full of teeth?  It doesn’t matter how funny they are; or how nice they are.  I can’t be sticking my tongue in there – so that isn’t ever going to work.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Evil, Busy, Full On World!

I am literally working my ass off.  I've got work coming out of my gazoo.  Tomorrow, I have a meeting with HISA, chaired by a rep from the Department of Health finishing at 8.30 pm - followed by supper!  

Yeah...I finish at 4.30!!!!!

So I haven't had time to check email, let alone blog... but I do have time to shake my head in utter frustration with the world of men and dating.

Okay, I'm 52 - it was never going to be easy to get a guy with some sort of music ability, a loyalty gene and someone capable of actually being in love - I mean, let's face it, one hasn't dropped out of the sky at me with those few qualities in all my years!!!!  They are always lacking in something!

So I hunkered in for the long haul... Understanding that on my own may be my best shot at happiness. 

But the daughter!  She's 27.  Blonde.  Tall.  Gorgeous.  Smart.  Funny.

She was lamenting the fact that one of her 'kisses' was from a midget.  No.. that is not a scathing term for some guy who is 5'8" (in the ex squeeze scale of height which means about 5'5" - and perhaps 5' wide which basically means a circle...)

No... We are talking full blown, 4 foot, short legged 'game of thrones' type midget!

Not sure what she is whining about.
I want a midget! 

All I got was another big boobed lesbian!

Friday, October 3, 2014

I really want a man...

But only so I can put this song on my blog lol


So I decided to just put it on here anyhow.  Hell, if I ever meet anyone half way decent; I'll put it on again :)

Dating land...  Tool belt boy and I went to a groovy little Mexican restaurant called the Yellow Bird Cafe in Chapel Street, Windsor.  Although this isn't a foodie blog, since I'm out in the land of dating and so catching different eateries, I may as well throw my two cents in.


I chose the venue since he is from Geelong and he figured I'd just know where to go.  I wanted to pick somewhere 'different' to wow him with my knowledge.  I wasn't disappointed.  I went with the Yellow Bird Cafe.  I suspect he ambiance was better than the food (at least it was for me).  There is bird and Mexican paraphernalia littered throughout the interior with band posters here and there and it had a large outdoor area and great music (that got too loud for conversation as the night progressed).  

I watched a huge plate of nachos come out to a table near us and regretted my stupid choice of a Ceaser Salad - which was actually kind of tasteless.  Luckily the conversation flowed easily and we spent a good couple of hours with no silent moments or difficult lull in conversation.

He looked exactly like his pic; fit, slim; quite good looking chiseled face. We pretty much come from the same family environment.  Large; loud - mafia style: you'd turn up in the middle of the night with a shovel and a bag of lime if your sibling called you to say there was a body in their back yard.  

He has a good relationship with the ex (which means no real dramas in that area).  He is in no rush (so not a desperate fool) and he hasn't inundated me with contact (as the others) since walking out of the place.  

He did laugh when I told him about my first date where I shook the guys hand at the end.  I mean he was a stranger... I'm a slow to boil girl.  I bubble when I reach that point but its an evolution; there is no such thing as love at first site in my world!  He agreed that he was the same.

Sounds perfect huh..?

Now for the down side...

He has a sixteen year old boy that lives with him.  As the words left his mouth I had a flash back to the last trip I took down sixteen year old lane.  Snot on the wall, manipulative, poo germ infested hands, psycho personality disorder. I had just escaped from that crap.  I stifled my sudden desire to just stand up, drain my beer and leave  :) but paused.  He talked about "discipline"; so he wasn't a velvet wearer then.

Then we got to his hobby.  He shows and judges dogs; gets flown all over the world to do it.  Not just any dogs but Rottweilers - and he has three of them.  My fear level rose just hearing about it and I could already see them protecting the devil's child Omen style!  He mentioned that they are "dogs"; not babies and he treats them as such.  They don't come in the house - so that was one small positive.

Then he showed me the photo of his loungeroom with the massive cabinet of trophies.  They had been banned to the pool room when his wife had lived there; but now he'd moved them to the lounge.  Yeah.  I couldn't see a huge wall of trophies anywhere in any lounge I could deal with.

Will we go out again..?  Possibly.  But I'm beginning to think my sister was right; a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.


Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Big Girls Don't Cry

This weekend, I walked around the house like a ghost.  I tried to read; tried to write… But I just couldn’t settle.  For the first time since moving house, I was lonely, teary and fidgety. 

I couldn’t work out why I was feeling so miserable.  Generally, I’m comfortable in my own skin; content with my own company.  Yet the feeling of loss escalated until I was like a cat on a hot tin roof.  To take my mind off it, I set out for the Classic Cinema mid-afternoon to catch a movie. 

I went on my own which I’ll admit; I force myself to do on occasion.  I think it’s supposed to empower me.  It doesn’t work.  Mostly, I hover in a corner until I can slink into the theatre and sit in the darkness but even then, I’m waiting for someone to look up, point and yell ‘lonely loser alert!!!’.  I can almost picture it; as I drag my carcass out of the theatre, hunching my shoulders against the barrage of abuse and possibly rotten vegetables thrown by the villagers.

As it happens, there was no villager riots and the movie was a rather amusing vampire comedy that did dull the sensation of ‘blues cloak’ that I had previously worn.  The blessed relief of laughter did not last.  As the credits rolled I was already leaving the theatre and I realised that I’d embarked upon a rather large outing without actually speaking to another living soul.  Hell, I purchased the ticket online and had to do no more than push my phone towards the ticket checker and may have offered them a nod or a brief smile, but certainly no conversation.

By Sunday morning, the roller coaster was zooming down to a full on panic attack or a desire to throw myself down the stairs.  Instead, I threw on some runners and walked.  By the time I got home I realised that this was my own fault.  Somewhat stupidly, I had opened the door and let the Squeeze back in…

We are mature adults.  Best friends – or at least we were.  Why couldn’t we be again..? And when the door opened a crack, it creaked open further and further until our email exchange became of flood of flirty ‘carry on’ down and dirty emails - of around one hundred for the week.  That didn’t count the skype messages or text messages or sitting at my dining table and laughing our heads off like old times.  Even as I drifted into an exhausted sleep on Friday night, he was still sending emails.

The conversations had been growing over the last month or so; now it had reached avalanche proportions.  What this meant to me of course was that the budding romance had died a death and we could be friends again.  I didn’t think he would suddenly develop a dose of humanity or an ability to love or that we would skip into the sunset to live happily ever after; but somewhat stupidly, I did think that maybe, there was a chance we could be friends again.

On Saturday morning, all contact stopped.  I finally sent an email on Monday evening to say “are you dead..?”  It took four direct emails before I pushed through his evasive avoidance of my dating question and I finally sent a single line to say 'are you dating???' Frankly, between work and our comms avalanche, I couldn't see where he would find the time. Then I got back: “I am seeing someone, I told you that..”

WTF? What had the last week or so been about then..?

Seriously, I knew he was weak, but I didn’t figure him for a player.  Good luck to her is all I can say because the life she has signed up for is even uglier than the one I had!  At least I had fidelity! 

So he selfishly coaxed me away from a path of change and like a fool, I allowed it. All to make himself feel good - and screw the fact the in taking his 'upper', he plunged me into despair!  Obviously the poor woman that took my place is seeing the relationship for what it is (keep a measure of delusion that he can change) and kicked him to the kerb for a week. I was the bandaide to help his poor battered ego. What a selfish Dick!

Well I won’t let that happen again.  He is dead to me.  No…  We can’t be friends.  We will never be friends again because friends don't use and abuse friendships like that.  Friends don't hurt you. Mess with your heart and mind. 

And me..?  I am catching up with the cute builder tonight for dinner. I'm spending the weekend down the coast.  I signed up for life drawing classes that start in October (nude male model if you don’t mind) and this morning, I was up and jogging at 6am. 

No time for tears; because as we all know: 


I did toss up using this one; because I did love Glee when Cory was there :'(


But in all honesty.... it's a wanky song :)

Can we still be friends....


I guess I've discovered that no...  No we can't be friends.  :'(

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Don’t you walk away!!!

The other morning, I awoke to a facebook message from a girlfriend at some ungodly 5am hour.  ‘Update your blog! I’m bored!’

I’m not sure who can be bored at 5am when there is sleeping to be done, and later in the day, I replied to say ‘there is nothing to blog about!’ And the reality is there were no new dates this weekend.  No one was rocking my world; I didn’t move any closer to the elusive ‘wild thing’ with anyone.

Wynette; this one is for you…

Today, while walking and reflecting to the sound of Diamond Dogs done Moulin Rouge style, I realised my life is a world more than blogging about some noodle headed spineless ex or a guy with Miss Daisy driving skills who had the potential to get me killed in a freak road rage incident; or even the stream of tic tac teeth, fungus fingers or impotent guitarists…

Dating a Hunchback began as a tale of woe.  Single women dating when in their 40’s and worse, dating morons that haven’t/can’t/won’t get their shit together.  And maybe that is my lot.  Maybe I’m not destined to be with someone and if that’s the case, I can’t see me no longer blogging – which means getting my act together!

Somewhat weirdly, I’m enjoying work at the moment.   Still, I applied for a job yesterday.  Why?  I need a house; which means I need to earn more money; or at least leave where I am, take all my leave as cash and put that towards my deposit.

The dating scene is quiet and I’m not chasing it.  I am talking to a builder (bring on that tool belt) who lives in Geelong and we may catch up next weekend when I go down to stay with my sister.  I quite like him too; he is my kind of people with similar family and 'tough love' kid values.

As for the title of the blog; I loved this song in my youth:


I noticed that she is playing at the Caravan Club – and I plan to be there.  I haven’t worked out who I’m going to go with as yet since my usual gig buddy is out of the country - but I have two tickets in my hot little hand and even if I have to go on my own – I’m going!

Annoying really that I basically introduced the ex to my gig world; and he introduced his friends.  Now they all go and I have no one to go with.  :'(

Other than that, life is relatively simple.  I even caught up with the ‘ex Squeeze’ through the week and gave him several boxes of records that I didn’t want.  It’s annoying.  I really like him as a person.  Why can't I hate him?  It' would be easier.

As an aside, I do think he is morphing into me.  I move to an amp and speakers, ridding myself of the preamp.  He does.  I get a Pro-ject turntable.  He does.  I get new headphones - he has to! I get a red car – he does! (admittedly, mine is way better and looking his interior just makes me want to sing Scottish songs!

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Season Seven

In a break from dating; Sons of Anarchy season seven started last night.

Jax... wow; even as a psycho... he's hot.

No matter how bad it gets; how over the top it is - there is there never ending addition to my list of music.  Hell, I've got some gems out of SOA.  Deadstring Brothers was one of my favourites.


Last night it was The Forest Rangers with this gem: Bohemian Rhapsody.  I could listen to these guys all day; and night!

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

The Table of Shame; Updated

The list grows....


Dating Update!!

Yep.  You guessed it...  I feel as though I'm on a merry go around they are coming and going so fast!


You may wonder what the problem was this time. Well, try the alarming number of short term women he would appear to have dated (and slept with); and add to that, his penchant to tell me about them.

He talks too much. I didn't think it was possible that anyone on the planet could talk more than me. He does! Wow; I at least can do moments of silence! Throw in a goodly whack of velvet, a bit of vegetarianism and a dose of "let's move in together!" and I'm literally running mock two with my hair on fire.

Far too scatty for me, and that's saying something!

So we go back to the drawing board. Okay, we are a step closer; at least I've now been kissed! But at this rate, I figure I'll be classified as a virgin again in about 6.3 years :(

Sunday, September 7, 2014

The World Changes…

It’s funny.  One minute I’m in ‘likelihood of date two is zero’ land and documenting photos of how freaking horrendous it is out there.  The next, I’m walking hand in hand through the park after a three hour breakfast, sitting on a park bench and kissing someone.  Yeah.  Weird.  I haven’t kissed anyone other than the ex for years and years.

Where will it go..?  No idea.  I know I’ve hidden my profile, so I guess I won’t be throwing any weirdo rows on my table of horrors for a while.

Who is he..?  He is a 6’3” (I could wear any damned shoes in my wardrobe and still come out 8-10 inches shorter than him).  He is intelligent.  Into music (has vinyl and hates country!)  An incredibly fit gardener who is as slim as he is tall…  Swims every day so good shoulders and I’ll assume, tight butt.  Lives on the coast but is moving back to Ormond in a couple of months.

He told me from the start he’s not rich, which seriously doesn’t bother me in the slightest.  They just have to want to aim towards a future; then picked me up in a brand new Audi.  He has three kids, all intelligent; two ex-wives – each of whom he can sit and break bread with and after two dates, would appear to be crazy about me.  Thinks I’m gorgeous!  Incredibly beautiful, smart and funny!  Wants to hold my hand while we walk down the street!

But…. He is a bit of a velvet wearer.  He does drink (thank God) but is a vegetarian – yet not averse to anyone else being a total carnivore [thank God!]  Doesn’t take medicine if it can be avoided, preferring alternate medicine (God, I’m dating the Harridan); is a lefty sigh; is somewhat sensitive and looking to the stars and horoscopes!

How weird.  I'm going out with myself!  Just a way more intense version than I! I remember sitting in the movie theatre with the Squeeze early on and him laughing because we hadn't even got past the shorts and I was crying...  I suspect I will be the Squeeze in this relationship.  Now this ought to be interesting!

Can it last?  No idea, but I think I’m keen to find out!

Saturday, September 6, 2014

Kill Me Now; I’m single...

Although I have been in ‘probably second date Siberia’, I continue on my quest.  I don’t need the ‘love of my life’ or even the ‘move right in’ guy.  I would just like someone who I connect with, that’s happy to go on the odd date to see a band and or be the partner at all those couple functions that come up – that I continue to attend alone!

I feel as though I’ve been on a merry go around; and each date is actually some giant fist that flies out of a darkened corner to knock me off the ride.  Ohhhhh and some of them have been like a punch to the face.

I decided I would start a little table to keep track of just who the Hell is out there in the land of “Kill Me Now; I’m single!” [below] and I will maintain it.  Down the track it will provide me with hours of entertainment!

On a separate note, I caught up with the ex-Squeeze yesterday.  In some ways, I feel as though I’ve got my best friend back.  He is a damned fool because I loved him and was great for him; but hey, that isn’t my problem anymore and it won’t stop me from building a future with someone, when I get past the hurdle of those on my list that I would rather suck my own eye out with a straw than have another date with!


Yes, yes.  I’m a horrible person; shocking.  Except like me, they are putting themselves out there…  Just like I am.  I'm probably on a blog somewhere, exaggerating my gap...


Upside is that I did have a date today...  So far, he is ringing the bells.  No major issues.  We are catching up tomorrow for breakfast....

Monday, September 1, 2014

Wagging

I wagged today.  I just needed a day to myself.  Not that I achieved much.  I spent hours attempting to eradicate a virus from my computer; I have no idea why these morons develop this crap, it's so annoying.  I also went for an interview; it would freak me out if I actually get to the next round but hey ho, sometimes you've got to throw your hat in the ring.  I always feel like an idiot at these things which is kind of weird, considering I actually do know my job.

So.  The weekend.  Hmm the date on Saturday…  I don’t know why one person attracts and one doesn’t, but I am struggling to meet anyone who ticks the boxes.  It’s not like there are that many boxes to tick!  I don't have a never ending list of demands for crying out loud.  Just normal stuff.  Literate. Funny. Not married. Not a woman. Likes music. That should have a pool of about 3 million guys you'd imagine... But no. 

So in the world of dating; then there was none.

Yesterday, I went to a record fair which the 'Record Guy' had told me about.  I grabbed several Stones albums and a fantastic Maryanne Faithful; so much for saving…

I’m not sure where they advertise a record fair but I’ve never seen one advertised before.  This one was like the Boxing Day sales rush!  There were boxes and tables and more tables and more boxes!!!  Records!  Everything you could want, including a record cleaning service.  There were young, old, tattooed!  It was fantastic.

At least my record empire grows.   I was there about three minutes when I got a “hi” text from the 'Record Guy' (frankly, I was surprised he saw me in the crowd but I may have been the only blonde!)  I did seek him out to say hi and grab a bag of records he had set aside for me; it was kind of like a drug deal…  Bag comes out from under the counter; money exchanges hands…  Fun.

The fair was full on and packed to the rafters so I didn’t get to spend more than three minutes talking to him but in those three minutes, I remembered why I had said yes to going out with him in the first place.  Not typically good looking (leave it to me to like someone ‘unusual’) but “something” there.  I guess you'd call it chemistry!  (yay!)

On my drive home I got a text from him to say “you looked fantastic today” which started more to and fro in the land of text.   Now we are going out Wednesday night.  Should be interesting…  I’m still uncertain about that whole 6-7 years younger; but that is just maybe where you have to go if you want someone interesting, into music and still fully functioning in all the areas that count  ;)  

Since then, it’s been raining prospective dates…

I awoke to two emails this morning, both from pleasant looking, normal type men that had obviously read my profile (rather than trying the shotgun tactic); one of which I have been having a great time in email land with!  Then one from a fifty year old attractive lesbian;  (Maybe if she had of sent that after the date with 'Driving Miss Daisy', lol, but not quite ready to give up just yet.)  Then one from a tubby forty-something married guy - they don't have a generic reply that says "Dear Moron, I guess you didn't read my profile.  I hope your dick drops off. Good luck in your search!"

Snap.  Do I really have to go back to work tomorrow…?  

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

What happened to the drought..?

Jeez.  The last potential date slid into the sunset; well he is still around but I am listening to my gut – and my gut says run

I went to Ballarat the other weekend and came home with a stack of records.  One was from 1985 - “Do Re Mi (Deborah Conway) - "Man Overboard" 1985.

I mentioned to the record shop guy (who is 46) that I had purchased it and he laughed and mentioned his father had been in a long term relationship with Deborah Conway.  He had played around her in the end and she’d written a song about it.  His dad owned some large band venue in Sydney… 

Yeah.  Tree.  Apple.  Not winning me over here…  And the gut is already swirling.  I hate it when people call me Darl… or Honey… it’s stupid.  Okay that isn’t a great reason to kick someone to the kerb but I’m sticking to it!

Every so often, one comes along that you just click with.  The base player was one; until he turned out to be a dick.  Wanting me to go away for the weekend five seconds in and being snooty when I said no.  Weird really.

Now there is a 51 yo Theatre Technician who has zoomed up the ranks to first place.  His first email had my heart thumping.  Hell, it was well written – he used punctuation for crying out loud!  He works in my industry.  He’s smart.  Funny.  Has a vinyl collection!

What the Hell will be wrong with this one…

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Fussy or not interested..?

Okay; sometimes I have to ask myself am I super fussy; or am I just not really interested in finding ‘Mr Right’; or even ‘Mr Right Now’?   I mean let’s face it; my track record on the scale of attractive isn’t great so I should be able to find someone who doesn't look quite as bad as Quasimodo, yet is smart and funny.

I find interesting more important than looks – and judging by my past conquests, it shows!

Now I have to admit that there are a lot of bad teeth and draggy leg things out there.  There is also seriously bad fashion and hair so bad you feel as though they should be mocked from here to eternity.  Some wearing socks and sandals that frankly, should have a tin of petrol and a match thrown on their feet…

But there are also some guys that seem nice; okay looking… Probably fun.  Fun if I actually let it get that far.

The trouble is, I’m not getting to the fun part.  I’m vetoing them before they have even gotten a foot in the door!  I find some reason, no matter how obscure, to ensure that I slam the door on them.  Now I have to seriously wonder if inside my head, I know that I'm not actually ready to date yet; and so my head (God love it...) is making sure that I don’t date.

Tonight, the last 'potential' hit the bin.  Why..?  I got this while I was at the football, watching my beloved Cats lose to those swine, Hawthorn.  Even worse, while in the MCC members…


Let's try that again.

Him:  Are you at the game?
Me: Yes
Him:  You're looking okay
Him:  Ha ha. I can hear you from here

Was that so hard..?  No it was not...

I don't do phonetics...  But more importantly... You need to be able to write in English!  

What the hell happened to grammar?  WTF is that just abandoned now???  I mean I actually have it in my profile that spelling and grammar are important!!! 

So there is another potential that just won't do. 
Frankly, I am beginning to think I'm better off on my own.  I could just write myself some fantastic love letters :)  At least the spelling and grammar would be correct!


Monday, August 18, 2014

Driving Miss Daisy

The roller coaster that is ‘dating’ continues with thrilling highs followed by wild dips; or worse, just a shuffling kind of boring train ride.

I’m approaching this with the somewhat pragmatic approach of a project.  I’m not in a hurry; nor am I desperately seeking love.  It would just be nice to have a date every so often when you have to go to one of those things where you are once again, the only single in the damned room! I have a requirements specification or check list already in my head and I adhere to it mercilessly.  On that spec are the ‘must haves’, ‘nice to haves’ and ‘deal breakers’.

I find it amazing and somewhat amusing just how different everyone’s ideal on the ‘musts and breakers’ are.  But let’s face it, we’re all different!  To some, I may seem ruthless but it is with absolutely certainty that I know I’m being judged just as ruthlessly.

When I receive a contact from someone and open it to look at their photo, this is the first “judgement”.  For example, if they’re standing there in socks and sandals then I’m not even pausing to read their opening line, let alone the details.  What would be the point?  For some, it takes a split second to know that I’m never… Not ever… going to be attracted to that face; or handlebar moustache; or belly like a pregnant blow fish.

It’s fair because I’m sure just as many are opening mine and saying, crikey!  I couldn’t be looking at that gap between her front teeth for long!  So as far as I’m concerned, all is fair in the art of love and dating.

I had a date on Thursday night with a guy I’d already met for coffee.  At the first meeting, I'd determined that his teeth weren’t great (there is a make or breaker!!!) and he had a weird limp/draggy leg thing (I didn’t say I couldn’t be a shallow bitch!)  The teeth became a lesser issue as we caught up because he was here visiting the dentist.  Date two also preceded a dental visit and so with a few clever questions, I found out that the dentist wants about 30k to fix his teeth.  I pointed out that teeth are important so it was probably worth it!  The leg, was due to breaking his hip a couple of months ago; so this would get better or maybe get a full hip replacement.

So with those two potential breakers' on the road to being fixed, I decided on date II.

He picked me up in a 180k brand new Mercedes and it all went downhill from there…

I was kind of expecting this version:



What I got, was this version:



Who the Hell buys a 180k black Merc and then proceeds to drive it at 40 KLMS!!!!!!!!!!!  He got tooted for crying out loud!  Someone bipped him for driving too slow and not getting out of the damned way!  When it came time to leave, I asked him if he wanted me to drive, which he thought was hysterical.  Little did he know I was deadly serious…

So he won’t do.  I just couldn't stand driving around like we were going for a spell in the country...  Getting road raged at every turn.   

It had been raining men; and the well is drying up as those I actually like seem to have some weird flaw that I can’t deal with.

The only one left in the pool at the moment is the forty six year old record shop owner.  He’s nice.  We have a lot in common.   I met him in the real world as opposed to on the internet.  I’ll see how it goes…  I need a few more meetings before I can make any sort of judgement and being younger than me bothers me a little; which could be deemed as stupid!

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Marshmallow

I have to say, I’m a marshmallow at heart.

This week I’ve been in the city for a health informatics convention.  Pleasing to hear them say they have the best minds in Health Informatics in the one room – pity my boss can’t see that.

Regina Holliday…  Look her up… She is us. She is the normal person who lost her husband to illness and didn’t know… Didn’t understand.  I’m not sure any of us understand…

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Look at me now!

You see; you get into a relationship and everything changes.  I changed.  I gained about 15 kilo (give or take).  I figure it’s some sort of internal brainwashing going on...  Like “you treat me like I’m worthless, so let’s just be worthless…”

Yeah. I don't get it either. You think the opposite would make more sense!  And let's face it; it would.

Still, maybe the toxic part wasn't so one sided… 

Although most of our years together, I treated the ex-Squeeze like as the person I loved, towards the end I was getting downright scathing.  Still, I watched that kid lie and manipulate and why wouldn't he since he could see how great it worked.  The sucker that was my partner, would not even question the truth of anything that came out of its mouth.

Between him and the witch of an ex-wife shooting off emails that said “I don’t care what she wants!!! I only care what my pimply faced toad wants” in regards to that kid living in my home whenever they damn well felt like it, touching my stuff.  And to Hell with me and mine.  My family and friends weren't even figured into the equation.  I meant nothing and had no opinion. 

She didn't want that kid, so why she figured I would is anyone's guess.  And the reality is that she knew I didn't. 

The whole thing was about getting rid of me; and oh God, she knew how to play.  She's got it down straight.  She knows the ex-Squeeze better than anyone on the planet; she does everything but turn the key in his back to wind him up.  

But hey; even knowing that, I couldn't have taken it on... Not even to F up her world.  They created that vile child - I'd frankly, I'd have rather sucked out my own eye with a straw than have to put up with it for another second.

Squeeze at the end....
Squeeze at the start...
One can only exist for so long being totally excluded from all discussion/decisions regarding their life, home and belongings; before exploding and telling everyone to ‘F’ themselves sideways with a pogo stick! 

And oh God... I wanted to do that so many damned times...

This week, I realised I’ve somehow
lost most of my Dad’s coffee
table book I was designing
which is in a word, devastating.

I can do it again, but it is serious work.

Still, that loss caused me to trawl through  images frantically in an attempt to locate it and suddenly, I noticed images of the Squeeze – morphing from 'my guy' to 'circle guy'.

Guess life and the crappy circumstances we find ourselves in affects us all!  Seriously; I don't remember those hairy arms though lol

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Keep At It...

Snap!  We are in man drought ladies; but Im telling you Persevere.  Keep at it!

Why?  Because according to the people Im meeting, many of the women on dating websites would appear to be stark raving mad with tendencies to stalking. (Lucky they arent dating dick men or theyd really know theyre alive!)

I dont get stalking. Seriously What the hell is that about..?  Why put yourself in that position..?  Why let someone think that you cant live without them..?   So my exs have always been safe with me. 

Okay   No one does DEAD to me like I do.  Im careful not to encroach on the new Squeeze life.  Mostly, I havent liked anyone enough to even try.  The ex-Squeeze is different, since we were best friends prior to me waking up one morning and discovering the cat speaking to me (which was akin to me and the ex being an item).  I loved him.  Different, I loved him as a friend, the person he was first. 

He was important.  He was my best friend.  No matter that he hurt me with his inability to man up; I didnt want to do life without my best friend!  I guess in the end, I dont control the world.

I did try to keep the friendship going, but got tired of the three word answers and so moved into the mutual silence and thats fine.  I get it.

But I regress  So far this weekend, Ive had a date with a farmer who showed me the 180k merc he just bought (frankly, I think my zoom zoom Mazda is prettier) But more important than a car, he is nice.  Just a normal, genuine guy.  Even better, he likes me!  Then there is the guy who owns a vineyard in Mildura  My sister said snag him or I will; come to think of it So did my brother lol

Then today, I went to a vinyl sale and purchased about thirty records; and the owner sent me texts throughout the night and then asked me out.

Girlfriends that are reading this  Get your ass out there!  The drought may be over. Yay!

Friday, August 8, 2014

And that’s when it dropped…

Ha!  Life went as expected...  :(  Things were moving along so fantastically with the base player that I began to have a sinking feeling wondering when the anvil was going to drop out of the sky and hit me in the head!  I knew it…  Sheesh, I’m basically Wile E Coyote; and I’m not even trying to eat someone.  Just date them.

We met.  It was easy.  It was nice.  I could see myself spending time with him; and liking it!  We had long conversations and hours of text entertainment.  He was funny, articulate, and tall!!!  I could basically wear any damned shoes I liked!  He wasn’t fat, or even tubby – just a gorgeous, flat stomach, long legs and no handles on the side.

He was into music, played in a band for crying out loud!  When he was driving me home the other night he turned the stereo up and sung his lungs out – just like I do!  He was better looking in real life than in his photos, nice clothes...  Groovy clothes...  And his ex-wife is an ex and out of the picture.  Bonus, he only had one adult kid who did not live with him.   He liked me; and I liked him so much that my sister sent me an email to ask “should I be shopping for a frock!?” [You guessed it; she’s a sarcastic bitch {who I love really}]

You may wonder, where in all this, is the anvil is figuring. 

As expected, it dropped out of the sky the night before last when he sent me a long winded text about a tree falling on the roof of his place in the country.  Although we had planned for him to come to my place for dinner tonight, he would instead need to do a service on his car on the Friday prior to heading up to the country tomorrow for emergency roof repair.

Here was an idea; why don’t I come to his place for dinner tonight and then in the morning, we can both head up to the country for the weekend!

Ummmm.   Yeah.  Nah...  What’s wrong with that..?  I mean he told me he has spare rooms in both houses so we could kick back and spend time and get to know one another. Truth tell, I liked him enough that I may have even considered going for about 3.2 seconds.  

Then I thought about what I’d say if the girl came home to tell me she was squeaking off to the country for the weekend with a guy she met on the internet; after only a week or two of conversations and the odd coffee date.   Even worse, I thought about what my Dad would say (something along the line of a shallow grave in Marysville is waiting for me...)

Okay the anvil hadn’t appeared just yet.  I didn’t mind the idea that someone I met and really enjoyed, liked me and was eager to spend time and progress our relationship.

What I didn’t like was his princess moment; where he turned surly because I said no.  Hmmm, hello anvil.  There was no negotiation or discussion…  Just surliness.  And I don’t want that.  I don’t want any dramas or hassles this time; I had enough in the last relationship to last me a lifetime.  I will stay single until the day I die rather than take that on.

I’m not dating a princess.  I just want to date someone who is in to music, relatively normal, doesn’t have some personality disorder kid or a hunchback of a wife still hanging on to his back, leg and wallet.  Someone who doesn’t make me shudder when I look at them; can hold a decent conversation!  They don’t even have to cook.

So the base player is on the dating scrap heap with the lab manager (who wasn’t a dick, but had my internal alarm ringing for other reasons...)

Tomorrow, I’m doing coffee with a farmer who has been emailing me for quite a while.  I haven’t met him until now because I wasn’t sure we have anything in common.  Still, I guess the only way to discover if we do have, is to actually meet.  

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Cleaning...

Stupid, I know... but can't talk... cleaning!

So the 6'2" base player, articulate, funny mechanic... is coming to dinner on Friday night.

So I'm walking around the house thinking like this bird that someone sent me.  Yes, I know it's a bird, but it thinks just like me! [the angry parrot]  Seriously, I'd love to own this thing and have it sitting on my balcony screeching to the street!

But back to reality...  Am I out of my ever living mind!  A date!  Another date!  And he is ringing my bell.  Usually, I'm relatively frosty - at least for a while (like date ten).  On date one with my base player, I leaned over and brushed icing sugar from his chin.. twice (from a vanilla slice).  How strange that I would do that; but worse... He felt good.  Firm chin.  Good skin.  Just good.  And right.

Dinner!  But hey... Oh... He's nice.  He is like me.  He is a base player.  Has a record collection.  The other day when he drove me home, he turned the stereo up and sung his head off - ahhhh just like me; except he actually has a good voice.

So I have my menu.  I'm cleaning.

I'm basically just waiting for that anvil to drop out of the sky and hit me in the head; because there has to be something wrong with him!  Some catch...

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Still Alive...

I'm still alive but have been flat out; both at work and home...  When I get time to sit at the computer, I'm trying to actually write and trust me, there hasn't been a lot of that either.

I spent the last two weeks at work writing a concept brief asking for twenty million dollars (and I'll be asking for a pay rise if I get it!) - even if I am still looking for a new job  :)

Friday night I went to see The Models with a friend of mine.  Sean Kelly remains oh so cool I have to say and it was good to see that they are recording!

Sean Kelly in action at the Flying Saucer Club
I got some great video of him singing "Big on Love" but it wouldn't let me upload a huge file so the blog world only gets a photo.

Last night, my brother and sister in law came up for the night and we went to the Rooftop Bar 3 doors down for a pizza and got home at 1.30 after spending four hours dancing and drinking red wine.

Today, I'm going back there on a date. (they are going to think I've got no life so just have to hang out there I guess!)  I haven't had great luck so far in the dating stakes.  Actually, I'm not really putting much effort in so I can't whine!  Still, I figure when the time is right I'll meet someone and frankly, I'm having a pretty good time with single life at the moment; other than the fact that I seem to have no time to even catch up on housework.

And the reality is that I'm not sure where I am going...  I'm applying for jobs in different areas so I guess I'm letting fate dictate!  But if I meet someone, the ability to just late fate take me where it may is kind of off the table.

Having said that, I really like the guy that I'm catching up with today.  I really like him.  He's funny (a prerequisite for any date in my world).  He's tall, 6'2" - so I don't have to retire my heels again.  And he is the base player in a band.   Basically, he ticks all the boxes!

Later:

And wow...  after today's date...  He is definitely ticking all the boxes.  If I wasn't so tired I'd be literally skipping!  Wow.  I forgot what this feels like.

Friday, July 25, 2014

The War

It really is a battle.  I'm a war the time.  I’m inspired to write.  Hell, I woke up at 7 am last Sunday and started a short story; but the time just slips away and by the end of the day, I go to bed and realise I didn’t even think of writing.  Well not markedly; quite often I open my story and leave it sitting here but that doesn’t actually achieve anything.

I’m absolutely determined this weekend!  I’ve got the day off today and I’m going to cover off the cleaning that I didn’t think about last weekend and then its writing time!  I started a short story last weekend… I’ve got my book to do.  All I have to do is sit down and let my brain run wild!

How hard can it be?

Saturday, July 19, 2014

The Comfort Zone...

I’ve basically spent my whole life living in a comfort zone; and in the scheme of things, maybe “safe” isn’t as safe as I figured it was.  I decided that this was the year of change.  I’m looking for a new job; have lost over ten kilo and last week, I joined a group of random writers…

Okay.  Let’s face it.  Joining a group of writers online is a whole world apart from actually turning up at some writers gig and opening my mouth to speak to them.  We all knew that was never going to happen.  Hell, the ex-Squeeze and I went to a million writers things.  When we got there, we were so socially inept we spent the whole time talking to each other and then leaving.

So I was never going to go.  Right..?

Wrong.  Today, I got up and dressed… Packed my laptop, leather journal and fountain pen in my Oroton briefcase and stepped outside my comfort zone.  Firstly, I drove to the city.  As a general rule, I’d train it… Fearful of getting lost; not knowing where to park… not being able to find my car at the end… Getting a hundred dollar bill for an afternoon of parking!

The year of change means doing it differently.  I marched out to the car and took off for the city.  I’ll admit, about half way in I was beginning to think I should turn around; but there was no time by then.  I was meeting my best friend and her sister in Chinatown for breakfast – so I persevered.  I hit the city and saw a sign so turned into park at Federation Square – which is about sixteen bucks for 24 hours.  Okay…  I can do that.  I can even find my way back there!  Everyone on the planet knows where Fed Square is so even I could find my way back there!

I had made it.  I was in the city.  My car was parked and I was off for breaky.  I put maps on my iphone and marched off to venue number one making it only 5 minutes late due to a wrong way. We had a great time (I’ll ignore how much damned seafood stuff was on for breakfast in Chinatown) but the vegetarian stuff was pretty good and it was about the company as opposed to the breakfast anyhow.  Then we went shopping for a few hours before I trekked off to the Giraffe Café for an afternoon with strangers to write.

Luckily, my best friend came for a coffee prior to flying off for Prague.  Basically, it meant that when I turned up; I was the coolest person there – because I bought an actual writer with me.  The guy running it nearly choked on his spleen which was pretty amusing.  Everyone else bought pads and pens; a few bought laptops.  I bought fountain pens, leather journals and a real, bona fide, paid... writer.

And at the end… I’d written two brief stories and spent hours talking to a table of strangers.  And I was okay.  No one died; no one called me out.  The year of change was actually turning out to be the "year of change".

I came home and cooked before having an idea for a short story.  I talked to my best friend before she flew out for Prague and we laughed our heads off over the writers she’d left gob smacked.

All in all.  I’m having a good time.  I’m inspired.  
I’ve remembered those things I forgot over the last few years.
I'm actually kind of interesting.  I'm not fat and horrible.  I'm funny; and I’m a writer.

Am I going back?  Yes.  Next fortnight.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Finally! Yay!

So far this year I have list 10.1 kilos.

Go figure!  I can't believe I actually did it!

Still kind of blown away.  10.1 kilo's is pretty good.
No wonder all my clothes are swimming on me!

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Catchy....

He He - I may be struggling with the Bonnie Raitt song on piano; but now I've got my brother trying to learn it on guitar in Synday :)  Soon his household will be fed up with it - which is a thing of beauty really... I mean children whining in the house means you know you're committed to learning; right?

If he get's his arse down here anytime soon, we could almost be the Von Trapps!
Of course this also means I'll have to up the ante of practice because he is more advanced than I am (and we can't have that...)

We do have a shared love of music and it's handy to have a brother in Sydney I discovered this week while planning a Christmas present for my best friend.

It was suddenly there in my inbox.  Nick Cave.  Doing a gig in Melbourne.

Of course when I think of Nick Cave, I think of the Boys Next Door doing "Shivers" and how unbelievably cool he is.  So I immediately sent an email off to my best friend to say "hello!!!  Nick Cave!  Want to fly in to Melbourne that night..?"  She was a guest along side him at some writers thing and had a tiny little crush on him (you'd have to be dead not to, let's face it!).  She replied to say "better idea; let's meet in Sydney for our Christmas present to each other!"

So it was decided and tickets were snagged.  She will fly in from Brisbane.  I'll fly in from Melbourne.  We'll have a night out in Sydney...  And catch up with my brother; talk music and writing.

Seriously; can't wait.

The Little Shop of Dating Horrors

It is astounding to me how any man I know that puts his ass on a dating website; is inundated.  It appears that women are virtually leaping out at them.  Fifteen or twenty a day; and trust me, some of the people that have said that to me were barely making it out of the “maybe… If I shut one eye and squint with the other” pool!

Several of them have mentioned that it is basically a full time job and then they have been snapped up two seconds later.  And it is always by younger, more attractive women.  Hmmmmm.  My spurt of wishing a pox and potentially, a dose of impotence upon the ex-Squeeze is mollified slightly.  I guess that explains how he can start “seeing someone” while I lose 10 kilo; am 8 years younger than he and yet I am still doing the dating cycle which is in a word; freaking hard.

I’ve taken to showing my potential dates as they contact me to the guy I share an office with.  Suffice to say this awards us hours of amusement as I spy one aging Elvis and then next, move to Captain freaking Stubing from the Love Boat (I kid you not there).

Then we have the ones that on the surface appear relatively okay; I mean I’m not shuddering or rolling around the floor laughing – but then they go and ruin it as per one did today…

This was the end part of his profile:

Ok that said I certainly wish to have a healthy sex life with my princess,, I certainly don't want it every second Saturday night with the street lights turned off and missionary position only, that is definitely not me.. fun exciting romantic sexual sensual is what I am after. So if that is not you don't bother to chat with me. a polite refusal is the nice thing to do.

WTF????  Seriously!!???  What a total TWAT!

Then in his “what I’m looking for section”, we go again….

Intelligent easy going, fun loving, witty, sensual, sexy, attractive, caring considerate, girl who is also fairly active and if she is a cyclist that would be a real bonus.. ...She must also have to enjoy a healthy sexual appetite. I am not a monk and don't want a nun for a partner.. A sense of humour is a must also

Too right she needs a sense of humour to put up with this tool!  I was going to reply to say “thanks for the email; but I require sex every single morning – always; and twice on Saturday.  If you’re not up for it, F off!” 

But what is the point!  And to make it worse, the fool was wearing lycra in several shots.  Pity he doesn’t know that when I am ruling the world via my land of Secret Women (www.secretwomen.org) – ALL LYCRA WEARERS ARE DEAD!

J

Monday, July 7, 2014

Welcome to ‘Singlehood’

Yesterday I caught up with the Scottish Lab Manager.

I thought I’d be clever and ensure that I chose a place near me, so selected the rooftop bar on the corner.   I wouldn’t have to think about drinking; I could basically stagger down the laneway to home.  It was an afternoon gig because that is less “date-like”; more relaxed…  And I selected an acoustic gig that I figured most twenty year olds wouldn’t bother to turn up for.

All good until the Scot texted to say “this is a private function”…   Well, they didn’t have that written on the sign!  Still, apparently he had created the hydroponic garden up on the rooftop so we got to slink in there anyhow – and what a fantastic afternoon it was.  Very cool place which has an eclectic mix match of ‘stuff’ in every available corner of floor and walls.

There were a couple of different guys singing and playing guitar and a room of “not too young” people there to raise funds for a girl who had thyroid cancer and needed drugs that weren’t on the list so basically cost you a house to pay for it.

I met new people.  The pub owner who gave off a “coolish” vibe; and his partner who was dressed rockabilly style with a little skeletal hand clutching her hair back.  She had a little dog with a diamond collar that followed her everywhere.   There was a tall bald guy with a thick neck who proceeded to flirt with me…  This gave me a little spring in my step considering he would have been lucky to be forty; but the spring fizzled as I watched him try the same approach on every old broad in the room.

One girl in particular I felt an instant connection too which doesn’t happen often and I have collected similar people over the years; they now make up by best friend circle…  I have a theory; well I was told a theory when I had my past lives read.  I had gone there looking to be a lady, with someone wearing my colours at tourney and instead, found myself a Frenchman on submarine that sunk before the war.  She told me that I would meet people in life and feel and instant connection to them; they were on the submarine also…  Oh I know its all crap, but still, I was intrigued by the story.

Our chat started with her saying “you look like Hugh Jackman’s wife!”  Which made me laugh; I mean I haven’t heard that for a couple of months at least and prior to that, it was basically all the time.  We talked for ages and then throughout the night, we would look up and catch each other’s eye and wave.

She hunted me down at the end of the night and I’d already written my number on a serviette as I was going to hunt her down and tell her that if she ever feels like getting out for a drink over this way; call!.  I’ll be interested to see if she actually contacts me.

The date.  Still undecided.  My passions are a slow moving beast I’m afraid.  When it hits, get out of my way; but first I have to find someone prepared to wait for me to catch up.  I’m not in a hurry; not at all.  In fact, I'm quite liking being single.


Saturday, July 5, 2014

Bonnie Raitt...

Love this song..  The neighbours, alternatively, must hate it.  I've been trying to learn it on the piano lol which means playing it over and over again.

Given the fact that they are the loudest people in the morning; I'm okay with torturing them with this!

I Can't Make You Love Me

Where did it go..?

Seriously…  Every so often I look around and think “what the Hell!  Where did those hours go?”

It can be utterly perplexing; this weekend is almost half way through and I’ve achieved nothing.   I’ve stripped my bed and washed the bedding but that’s about it.  The bare pillows and doona are lying in a haphazard heap in the centre of the bed.  I’ve walked past and looked several times (pausing twice to spray Frebreeze) but I haven’t even fished out clean linen yet.  Worse, the clock is ticking and I hate making it just before I go to bed so I’ll need to get to it at some stage!

I had such high hopes and plans too!  Not about making the bed because let’s face it; the house is always neat and pretty much clean.  I could switch off doing housework for a week and no one would even notice.   It’s not even the lack of the vacuum cleaner echoing across the floorboards that is upsetting me.  It is the writing; or lack thereof.  And I promised myself…

Still, promises or no; sometimes there just isn’t anything left over!  Life gets in the way.

For example; I’ve decided to start job hunting.  And there was my first big mistake.  It’s been ten years since I’ve done any real job hunting so there was an edit and refresh of my cv required.  Then any job that you want to submit an application for these days, somehow requires about four hours of addressing ‘key selection criteria’; which of course means you agonize over every single word.  It takes hours!  They should have to pay you to do that!  Read the damned CV to cull people; don’t expect me to do your work for you!

Two job applications and a phone interview later seemed to take out most of Friday.  What was left of the afternoon had me debating the pros and cons of a new job and actually moving out of town…  Then before I’d even had time to throw my coat off and head upstairs, a friend called over with a bottle of red.  That ended any move towards the computer Friday night; instead we drank steadily and debated the realities of life while eating cabana.  I was going to say we are very different personalities, he and I; but in all honesty, I think everyone on the planet is different to me.

The gist of our conversation was around my blog and he wondered out loud, how the ex had just allowed me to write all of that…  (Allowed..?  Really..?  You really want to go there..?)  Actually he may not have said the word allowed, but I got the drift.  Either way, he couldn’t understand how there hadn’t been humdinger rows over what I wrote.  In fact, if we ever argued over my blog, I don’t recall it but I’m sure we did occasionally.  Generally when his slow boil of outrage got too much to handle, I received one of his scathing, cruel, put down emails.

Still, to my wine guzzling friend, I pointed out that our lack of rowing was due to his lack of care and common sense.  That and the fact that he read my blog as though he was reading about another person; that “damned Moodle” wasn’t him… It was some other poor sap dealing with this ranting witch. 

And then, my ill-fated and somewhat stupid wine infused friend uttered the words, “you are very opinionated you know…” before guzzling his next glass of red.

WTF!!!  Opinionated!  Me???  I already knew I was about to give him my opinion!

But maybe he was right…  And no wonder none of my relationships work!  By this morning, I was tossing and turning, wondering how I could make myself less opinionated.  Was that even possible?

I got up and went to a pump glass and then came home to research (there goes cleaning and writing!).  The first and most interesting site I came to was an advice blog and I speed read through the first letter and I had to admit; this girl did sound rather vaguely like me.  And surprise surprise; her letter was due to the fact that her boyfriend was going to dump her because she didn’t “validate his thoughts” or some such crap.  The blogger’s reply was rather delicious; long and full of descriptive words regarding the said boyfriend with non validated thoughts…  Words like “feewing”…  “Did your opinion hurt his feewings…  Poor baby!”

And suddenly; I got a second wind and realised that yes… I am opinionated; maybe even overly so.  And there were even some websites dedicated to guiding people in abolishing that shocking trait.  It’s easy. 

All you need to do is be INDIFFERENT!

Oh.  My.  God.  And the blinkers fell away as I realised just how ‘chalk and cheese’ the ex and I really were.  He lives in a haze of apathy.  I want to rush to my sword at the first sign of injustice!  Chalk/Cheese.  Oil/Water.  It doesn’t come bigger than us.

So yes.  I can be loud and opinionated.  I call and spade and spade; if I think it… I say it.  And he is probably correct, it was probably hard work for the ex to hear repeatedly that he was a Moodle, or that his kids were ungrateful or ill-mannered or selfish.  I know he spent years hearing about the Harridan and her unbelievable velvet wearing selfishness!  Then again, he could have just fixed it if he wanted me to shut up.

And at that point, I realise a fact that I had missed up until now.  The ex had once ‘loved’ (if that is what he calls it) the Harridan – because she is an overbearing, opinionated bitch.  Then he loved me…  Another overbearing, opinionated bitch.  And let’s face it; he isn’t the smartest tool in the shed (he is just a tool) so the chances are….   You guessed it….  His new lady love will be a “overbearing, opinionated bitch” because that is what he likes!  His body chemistry is protecting him; because it knows he is a balless wonder, so it deliberately looks for a Joan of Arc!

So...  Comfortable in my opinionated skin, I emailed my friend this afternoon to tell him I think I’ll just be staying exactly the way I am and if someone doesn’t like it; they can lump it! Okay... Okay... he suggested I attempt to be a little more subtle; and maybe I will... Try it that is.

Dating update:  Tomorrow is date two with the Scottish Lab Manager.  How perfectly he is playing it.  Not ‘in my face’ or ‘stalking/contacting’ all the time; but answering pretty quickly when I contact.  Not making out he is sitting there pining for me and awaiting my contact; but open and pleased to receive it.  Yes, he is playing it so perfectly that I’m almost looking forward to it. 

Hope he likes ‘overbearing, opinionated bitches’ lol

Thursday, July 3, 2014

How is that working for you..?

My sister emailed me this week to ask how I was going.  I think she knows I’ve struggled over the last week or so.  In true Gemini fashion; and because I’m scrupulously honest, especially with myself, I answered with exactly how I was feeling.

My epiphany bought on a weird combination of relief, sadness and jealousy.  Yes, I said it was weird.  You couldn’t imagine those things all rolling around to create their own emotion, but there you go.

The ‘relief’…   My brother in law’s ex-wife is a lesbian.  We are talking plain faced; spikey haired, seriously manned up lesbian wearing bib and brace overalls.  They aren’t attractive on a hot guy, so I don’t know what she was thinking.  I’m missing my point.  I remember saying to my sister once “that must be so much easier for him!  I mean he has to know there is absolutely nothing, short of waking up, looking in the mirror and discovering he was a woman; nothing was going to make that relationship work!”

As far as faults go, that is a get out of jail free card.  No amount of shared household chores or giving space or romance was going to change the mechanics of that.

My epiphany telling me that the Squeeze had never loved me meant he was gay.  Or may as well as have been in my mind.  He didn’t love me!  There was nothing I could do to change that.  He didn’t love me.  He tried; he faked, whatever – but he did not love me.  Not my fault.  It wasn’t that I didn’t love enough; didn’t cook enough; didn’t put out enough (in fact in the end, he was the one not putting out – a sure sign!)  He just didn’t love me.

The ‘sadness’ is because I lost my best friend of fifteen years; and I’m pretty sure I’ll never get him back.  That he has shut me down now that he is dating is a pretty good sign of what is to come.  And if I am shut out because he is dating; odds are I will slam the door when I am.

In truth; that sucks because he is my only male best friend.  He is the only one I can bounce thoughts and ideas off.  He is the only one I can ask “is that normal?” when talking about some freak I went out with the night before.  And now, it is gone.  All because in a moment of loneliness he thought he could have a fling with a friend.

I have been married three times.  He should have known I don’t do flings.  I marry.  That’s what I do.  I love.  I meld.  I join.  I’m probably fricking scary now that I read that lol and oh my, how much worse is that for an emotionally bereft person such as the Squeeze.  And bereft is what he is.  I always knew that I guess; but stupidly, I figured that if he was really loved… it would change.  He would change.  Just as I’m sure the next fool will.

My sister once said to me “in all the times we have spent time together, I never once saw him hug you; or hold your hand… Or kiss you.”  She was correct.  I was emotionally skeletal, so suppressed was his ‘touch/romance/love gene’.    I saw it as flaw, or condition in him.  For it wasn’t just with me.  In five years, I never saw him hug or kiss his kids.  More than once I mentioned that I never heard him; or them, say “I love you”. 

I finish most conversations with my parents or kids by saying “love you!”  They don’t doubt it; have never doubted it.  I have often wondered if the Squeeze, for all of his “give my life for you” father act; was just that… An act.  I’m not sure if he feels the love; or if he fears becoming his father, so he plays a role he figures he must play.  I guess that isn't something I need to worry about anymore. 

The ‘jealousy’…  I told my sister I am going through “toy train” syndrome this week.  I have survived our separation quite easily until the last week or so.  I didn’t have to think.  There was my Dad dying (love you Dad!) which consumed my every waking moment for months.  My siblings and I became ghosts of the people we were in the face of losing Dad.  Now we are ghosts that fear; ghosts that hold conferences and share email to ensure my mother is as “fine” as she can be.

Walking to the car park tonight with a guy from work; he said out of nowhere; “I just can’t believe I’ll never see my Mum and Dad again…” I knew exactly the emotion of which he spoke.  I can’t imagine a life without my Dad in it.  I don’t even want to.

But I regress…

From the minute the Squeeze emailed to say he was seeing someone; it was like someone had picked up my train set.  It didn’t matter that I hadn’t played with it for eons.  It didn’t matter that I didn’t even think about that train set… it was mine.  It belonged to me.  And now some other (probably fat) kid at the park had taken my train set home!  I wanted it back!  It was mine!

I went from barely a thought; to unable to sleep or concentrate on anything else.  All I could think about was my train.  My train in the hands of someone else.  

When I mentioned this theory to my sister, she, of course made some ugly analogy about Puffing Billy and the Orient Express; lol and riding them.  The ex was, you guessed it; Puffing Billy.  I followed up with the fact that it felt like the only thing left on the planet was the Fat Controller – and he was probably wearing socks and sandals!

The epiphany made me admit that it was never really my train in the first place.  It never had been.

He had never allowed himself to be.