Sunday, November 28, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
My friends and I live by a code. It is an honourable code.
This is the code between women (and not just those you know - this can, at times, extend to perfect strangers) that you will not let each other look like complete dickheads/losers in public.....if you can help it.
What sort of situations are covered by the code? I think you probably know them already. Here's a just few...
"You've tucked your skirt into your undies".
"You've got toilet paper stuck to the back of your jeans/your shoes/whatever".
"You've got something stuck in your teeth".
"You've got black stuff in the corner of your eye"
"Ummm.... are you sure you really want to wear that?" sometimes known as "you look like mutton dressed as lamb".
"You've got a dried up bogie sticking out your nose".
You get the idea. I'm sure you can come up with a few more.
But there's one situation that's a little tricky..it's a bit more of a 'sensitive' issue. That issue is - upper lip hair. I know! Seriously....how do you tell someone that's cultivating a rain forest on their upper lip that it's time to get out the hot wax or Nair! And what happens if they don't care to do so? It's a frikkin' minefield.
I have on occasion been MORTIFIED to glance at myself in the rear view mirror and spy veritable whiskers sprouting from my top lip. "Why didn't somebody tell meeeee? I look like a fucking walrus!!!"
So, some close friends and I have a developed a code word...a phrase....a friendly nudge that can be used, anywhere...anytime that these heinous hairs are spotted.
And that code word is.....
Be a friend. Use it.
Friday, November 19, 2010
If you've been reading my blog a while, you'll know I've had body issues.
Maybe that's the reason I've been single for so long. Who fucking knows. I just know that my negative impression of myself has held me back, in more ways than one.
For the last few years especially, since I put on quite a few kilos, the mirror has not been my friend.
Every house I have lived in has a BIG bathroom mirror and gets the morning sun - you know what I'm talking about ladies? I might as well be in front of a Kmart change room mirror... it's that bad.
The past few months, since I let myself date again were the worst. Every morning to have to see, in the harsh light of day, every lump, bump, dimple, scar and wrinkle, was enough to make me want to throw the towel in and retreat to the cave - permanently.
But the strangest thing has happened.
For the past couple of weeks I've been getting up in the morning and looking in that same mirror....same lighting.....same body. Only I realise now, all I see - is ME.
And all it took was knowing that someone..... loves all of me.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
So a while back, before I moved house, I regularly had my fortnightly shopping home delivered. It's frikkin' awesome.
One evening a particularly hot delivery guy turns up with my order and I can't help but flirt a little. I love Coles....yes I do...and they always slip me a little something extra with my order, ya know..free samples. This week it was some men's deodorant.
Now obviously there ain't no 'men' residing in my home (Ethan doesn't count as I don't think he even has pubes yet) and I thought, under the circumstances ie (me being a desperado born again virgin....well back then I was anyways ;op) I should give it a crack..so I did a massive hairflick and announced "well that's not gonna be much use around HERE" *flutters eye lids*.
He chuckled to himself and toddled off. Damn, it was worth a try.
I unpack the shopping and a few minutes later Alex shouts from the front hall "hey mum, I think he liked you, he's left you some more freebies!" and produces two condoms..all bright and fancy like. "Maybe it was a hint" (shut UP 14 year old).
I actually entertained the idea for about 20 seconds, until I realised the teenager, rolling on the floor pissing herself laughing in front of me may be an indicator that someone was being had and was advised that they weren't a present from very tight King Gee shorts guy after all but a sample from health class.
You are fucking hilarious young lady.
She then asks if I have any more condoms as they need them for a 'health class project'. I thought this sounded like bullshit and told her that I did not. A few minutes later Ethan shouts out from the bathroom "yes you do!!". Fuckers. "There's a whole box in here and they are past the use by date". Yeah rub it in why don't you?
"Ok you can bloody have them" *sulks*.
So...about an hour later I realise I have not seen or heard from either of the kids for a while. This is unusual. They fight like cat and dog unless....they are working on something together. And that 'something' is more often than not - devious.
I hunt them down, follow the giggling, barge into her bedroom to be confronted with a room full of...... these.....
Please don't call Child Services.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
It's really difficult to write one of these when you know that the person who you're writing about, is going to be reading it. But if I can write date reports about some of the frikkin' losers I've been out with over the last couple of years, surely I can write about him.
So here I go...
It all started a couple of months ago (wow..only a couple of months?). Another blogger mentioned his blog, and I took a look. I commented on his post (about dating). He commented on my most recent post (about dating) and next thing we're blog buddies. Next comes the outrageous Facebook banter (not limited to me mind you - apparently no-one with a vagina is safe!) and after a few emails - he asks me out.
Of course I tell him he's crazy. I'm in Perth, he's in Sydney plus he's really not my usual type so seriously...what's the point? But then my usual type isn't fucking working for me is it?! He's very charming and we're already developing a nice friendship..so I accept. What's the worst that can happen?
He phoned me for the first time that night - we spoke for two hours.
So...then there's the four.......weeks. What started out as a fun idea with nothing to lose, soon turned into something quite unexpected and I found myself emotionally invested in the outcome (and I knew he felt the same way). Many, many phone calls, emails and texts (he writes a beautiful email...shit he writes a beautiful text for that matter and I know I'm probably going to embarrass him here by saying that he's quite possibly the most romantic man I have ever met).
Fuck...and that says a lot, 'cos this is where I usually BOLT.... and I didn't.
I knew he was still pretty much doing the 'single guy' thing over there. Hey, it didn't thrill me but to be honest I'd prefer that, to me being the first woman after his wife - you all know my thoughts on 'fresh meat' by now. So...it's ok.
So..shit I'd better actually write about THE DATE!
After a build up that nearly frikkin' killed me he arrived in Perth. Our date was set for 7pm on the Saturday night. We'd agreed that even if we totally repulsed each other...we'd greet each other with a kiss on the lips. Seriously....and I know this shit 'cos I've been on a LOT of 'blind' dates, you NEVER know 'til they are standing in front of you. You can't fake chemistry and we both knew it.
But it was not a problem :o)
One kiss and that was it.
We caught a taxi up to Kings Park, a beautiful spot overlooking the city. Fuck....how long have we been holding hands? (I don't do that).
Our relationship to date had been lots and lots of talking. We really enjoyed each other. So, we both thought our first date would be an extension of that.
But there was kissing.
Kissing at the Whispering Wall. Kissing at the War Memorial Lookout. Kissing on the park bench (and there were fireworks.....no ACTUAL for real fireworks across the river).
Seriously...it was a Kissofuckinrama! How old are we again? Actually, I do recall a 'milkshake break' in there somewhere but then it was just straight back to the kissing.
We finally dragged ourselves off to a nice wine bar where we did manage some chatting...and more hand holding (oh god who IS this person?). And then...back to his hotel.
No. I'm not telling so I think we'd better...
*insert elevator music here*
I caught a taxi home about 2am. What? Well of course not. I don't do sleepovers on a first date...remember?
Part 2 of our date commenced mid morning on the Sunday, although unfortunately I wasn't quite ready when he arrived and was still in my bathrobe...
*yada yada yada* (that one's for you Nic!)
The weather was beautiful so we shared some fish and chips down at the foreshore and then I apparently fell asleep on the couch in front of the MOST BORING MOVIE EVER.
He got to meet the brats a little later. It was nice :o)
He caught a taxi back to his hotel later that night. And, that was the last time we kissed. He flew out on the Monday.
Holy crap just had to have a little cry baby break then...so where was I?
Oh yeah... he left.
But, we have made plans to see each other again. We're doing it. For as long as it feels right.
And it does feel right.
EDIT - shut up.
Monday, November 8, 2010
So....had intended to keep this close to my chest, but finding it very difficult. My emotions are determined to burst out, much like that scene in the movie Alien..with John Hurt.
Umm...ok...so as I said, wasn't going to write about it 'cos every guy I write about turns into a big fucking F.A.I.L. and this is kinda..special. But, there is a possiblity of both chest and brain exploding if I don't release a little of the pressure.
Ok..condensed version -
I just had the most wonderful of weekends with a guy, who lives ...a long way away. He's a fellow blogger who I've gotten to know very well over the past couple of months and I adore him to bits. We have no idea what the hell we are doing...but we're kinda doing it anyway.
Oh god I'm such a dweeb.
PS - sorry about the photo baby hahahaha!