Thursday, December 27, 2007
Oh, and I have some excellent new clothes, courtesy of my father and stepmother that will mean I will actually be dressed for summer weather over the coming months.
I know. It's a shock. But it's the time of year for new beginnings, no?
So, if you're on the gold course tomorrow and a women in an Essendon shanks one into your golf cart, I do apologise, but I'm sure I'll buy you a beer back at the club house to apologise.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Actually, leave a comment telling me how you find me regardless of where you are.
I'm curious. And I like to know things.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Anyway. Using the power of Whereis, a ruler and my calculator, I think I ran 4km last night in 30 minutes. Which is slow. Faster than previously, but slow. By my reckoning, at that pace it would take me almost a full workday to complete a full marathon. But it wasn’t about pace, it was about running for the full half an hour, and that meant slowing down. Slowing down to the pace of a tortoise, sure. But it meant I kept that heart rate of mine consistently up for half an hour. It was definitely up at the end of it, I can tell you. And if I can keep this up over Guts-A-Thon 07'/Christmas, then I might not enter January feeling like I have to start again – I’ll just be continuing the good work.
So if you see a girl with a bright blue Ford T-Shirt (It’s a work shirt. And no, I don’t work for Ford. Long story) with pigtails and glasses crawling/running around the North East, give her a cheer. It might not be me, but it’ll make whoever it is feel better about killing themselves in the name of fitness.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Let me make one thing very, very clear from the outset. I’m not advocating anything, I’m not saying it’s what I would do, and I would never, ever presume to tell any women, man or set of parents what they should do in regards to their own personal circumstances.
My personal view, what I would do, changes from day to day. I don’t know what I would do if faced with a choice I had to make. There are so many, many circumstances in which you have to make the terrible choice as to whether you end a pregnancy or not. And I’ve never been faced with any of them. I feel I have no reference point in which I can say, “This is what I would do”. Saying something, and then being faced with the actual circumstance are two very different things.
Which leads me to my first point – choice. Exactly how far do we want to go in restricting a patient and a doctor’s choice? Let me give you two examples of times when a patient, her family and a doctor are faced with a choice.
The first is a medical scenario. The life of the mother is at stake if a pregnancy continues. We’re talking HELLP syndrome or Pre-Eclampsia, or a range of other medical conditions in which the life of the mother is threatened, or her well being put at stake. Her doctor has a dilemma. He is bound to uphold life and preserve health, but the health and life of the mother will be compromised if the life of the child is not ended. In some cases, we can be reasonably certain as to the outcome if the pregnancy is not terminated – in others it is less certain.
The second scenario is that the child (And please, don’t pick me up on terminology – I’m not a doctor. I’m substituting child for foetus, embryo, etc for the sake of simplicity) has a congenital or other type of defect. These can range from circumstances where the child has no chance of survival past birth, to those that will effect the quality of life of the child – and everyone around it.
In the first scenario, we’re facing a very, very difficult dilemma. The patient and doctor must make a difficult decision. The patient must decide whether to preserve her own life by ending her child’s, or putting both in danger. The only treatment for pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndromes is the delivery of the child. Depending on when it presents, you have the option of delivering the child early and hoping for the best or if the syndromes develop before the child would have a chance of survival if delivered, termination of the pregnancy.
Can anyone, anywhere, feel anything but compassion for patients and practitioners facing this scenario? This isn’t something that either the patient or practitioner ever hopes to be faced with. No parent wants to be faced with that choice. But they are. It isn’t anyone’s fault. There’s no one to blame, and largely nothing you can do to prevent it occurring in the first place. Imagine you are that patients husband, father, mother, sister, friend, partner, lover. Imagine that you and she are faced with this choice. You have to choose between a mother and her child. The doctor has to weigh up what he is ethically, legally and morally entitled or expected to do.
I know there are hard-line Catholics who say that ending a pregnancy in this manner is still murder. But so is the alternative. Refusing to treat a woman who will die if you don’t is manslaughter in the eyes of the law. Making a choice to do nothing to assist is making a choice over who’s life is more important. You choose the child over the mother. YOU STILL MAKE A CHOICE.
Do we really want to make a difficult decision even worse? Do you want the first thing the doctor is thinking about to be what course of action he can legally take? Or would you prefer that the patient’s care be taken into account in the first instance? And having made that choice, whatever it is, do you then want some interfering, crusading politician to become outraged and demand the release of your medical records to the public?
In the second circumstance, we tread into murkier waters. A mother has a Nuchal fold test, perhaps, or an amniocentesis, and discovers that there is a chance – or a certainty – that her child has a congenital or other defect. We could be talking anything from Downs Syndrome to Anencephaly, a huge range of Illness’ that affect the child in utero.
I’m not going into what anyone should or shouldn’t do. I’ve said that, but I’ll say it again here.
My family has a history of Neural Tube Defects and genetic abnormalities, amongst them the two I’ve mentioned above. I have two relatives with Down syndrome on one side of the family, and it’s known to be a genetic condition (Trisomy 21 being the technical term) I know that my chances of having a child with any of the above is much higher than most. I would have to be diligent with Folate, get genetic counselling, a CVS test, the works. And then, I might be faced with a choice.
Anencephaly is a Neural Tube Defect wherein the skull and most of the brain of a child does not form. Death typically occurs before or during childbirth, and if it doesn’t, it is typically minutes to hours before the child dies. There is no possibility, none at all, of the child gaining anything approaching consciousness. Would you force, LEGALLY FORCE, a woman to carry a child knowing this will be the outcome? Would you personally make that decision for a woman, without consultation to her doctor, her medical history or, more importantly, herself?
I have no idea, no idea at all, what I would do in most cases. I can’t know – I have never been faced with the decision. But I do know this – I would like to have a choice. I would like to be able to sit down with medically trained staff, my family, and make a rational decision. I don’t want that decision to be in the hands of a group of people who argue, prevaricate and use issues to further their own agenda for a living. I want the man in the green coat who studied whatever I’m going through for a very long time, and had my case information in front of me to be able to do what his training tells him, sometimes, has to be done.
I want parents to be able to make choices for their children, no matter how hard those choices are. I want them to be supported, shown compassion – I sure as hell don’t want their choices made harder by pieces of legislation that cannot possibly help make these decisions and scenarios any easier.
Oh, and to those who are "Pro-Life" - stop calling yourselves that. Because no-one, anywhere - no parent, no scared young girl is pro-death. They are pro-choice. Be honest. You are ANTI-choice.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
22. Further Adventures of a London Call-Girl – Belle De Jour – If you haven’t checked out Belle De Jour’s blog, I’d highly recommend it. But the book? The book is fantastic. It’s well written, funny, and a glimpse into a world we’d all secretly hoped existed.
23. The Pythons by The Pythons – This is probably one of the more honest autobiographies you’ll read. It’s also - as you’d expect from a troupe of performers who turned the comedy and Art world on its head – hilarious, bizarre, insane and uplifting in equal parts.
24. Home Truths – Freya North – Freya has written three novels about three sisters – Pip, Cat and Fen. And it isn’t your usual chick lit, either. If you like your sex scenes explicit (and involving a clown, in one case), Home Truths is the follow on from the three books about the sisters that brings them all together, and then scatters them to the four winds.
25. Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer - I know it's supposed to be a Childrens novel, but so is Winnie the Pooh, so shut up. The Artemis Fowl books are fantastic in a similar way to Harry Potter, but they are just that little bit smarter.
26. Undomestic Goddess - Sophie Kinsella - Not exactly being a domestic goddess myself, I had a feeling I would love this book, and I did. It's well written, and not your usual pap. It's got a main character who is both brainy and clueless, without being ditzy, and without the situations becoming ludicrous.
That's all I've got time for now. More tomorrow if I get a chance.
Oh, and off to see Burlesque Hour at the Speigeltent tonight with B. Should be interesting!
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Let's see how long I can keep this up for. I'm predicting less than a week.
Friday, December 07, 2007
15. A Big Boy Did it and Ran away – Christopher Brookmyre – If you haven’t read any of his books (And they all have long titles) then do yourself a favour and go and get one now. Don’t be put off by the Scottish colloquialisms, either. There’s a glossary at the back. This book stunned me; mainly because I got it cheap and thought it would be crap. I wonder how many other great books I’ve shunned because of the price tag?
16. Is there anybody out There? – Marian Keyes – I don’t approve of people who think that chick lit can have no merit – and Marian Keyes is the perfect example. Of her books, one focuses on drug addiction, another on cancer, another on infidelity and single parenting and another on Depression. Show me a crime novel that does that. Is there anybody out there? Focuses on Grief and how we deal with it.
17. Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy – Douglas Adams – What a great loss to lose Douglas so young. His books were completely different from anything else I have ever read, and you couldn’t help but suspend disbelief for the period you were reading.
18. The Hobbit – J.R.R Tolkein – I like books that create a world around me. Books are something I dip into when I want to tune out. And J.R.R Tolkein set the way for so many before him.
19. Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens – For me, Dickens was not just a social commentator, he was one of the finest exponents of character work I’ve ever read. And his storytelling doesn’t suffer for it, which is rare.
20. Little Women – Louisa May Alcott – Oh, Beth. Just when we thought you were out of the woods, you pop your little clogs. Has anyone been able to read this and not cry?
21. Jessica – Bryce Courtney – Oh Bryce. I know there really wasn’t any other way to end the book, and if you’d softened the blow it would have defeated the purpose of showing what a harsh place the bush could be, but again with the tears!
That’s all for today. I’ll post another ten or so on Monday.
Yes, as it happens. And damned if I don’t want to do that again right now.
2. Pretend you've had 10 beers. what you would be doing right now?Drinking my eleventh?
3. What do you want?
4. Who was the last person you shared a bed with?
B. By sharing I mean he took up three quarters of the bed, and I repaid him by waking him up approximately every 7.5 seconds by rolling over, having strange dreams and being too hot then too cold.
5. Do you talk to yourself?
Yes. Everyone I know does, they just admit to it in varying degrees. Besides, I picked it up when I worked at a school uniform shop and my main duty was untangling coat-hangers. That is the single most boring, yet at the same time, most rage-inducing duty anyone has to perform, anywhere.
6. Do you drink milk straight from the carton?
I don’t drink milk, unless it’s in tea.
7. Who knows the latest secret about you?
The latest secret? I’m not in the habit of accumalating too many of them. Besides, I’m the world’s crappest liar.
8. How long is your hair?
Just past my ears at it’s longest, above the eyes at it’s shortest.
9. Do you like Batman?
I can’t say I’m personally acquainted.
10. Who was the last person who told you they loved you?
My mate A, maybe? One of my parents?
10. Do you like anyone now?
I like many people. But I’m assuming this question was geared at 16 year olds to whom “like” is a matter of life and death. In which case, the answer is yes.
11. When was the last time you lied?
I tried to lie to my father about what he was getting for Christmas last night, and he saw through me like a pane of glass. That man should work for ASIO. He wouldn’t need torture to get all the info he needs.
12. Is your birthday on a holiday?
It should be a national holiday, but unfortunately, until the Queen dies, I think she’s got dibs on that.
13. What instant messaging service do you use?
I don’t. Well, unless you classify SMS as Instant Messaging?
14.Last thing you cooked today?
I haven’t cooked anything since the pasta B and I cooked about two weeks ago.
15. Did you have a nap today?
Who gets a nap apart from children? Why am I missing out?
16. Whose house did you go to last?
17. What do you wear more, jeans or sweats?
Jeans. I generally don’t do “Sweats”
18. Why is the sky blue?
Something to do with the light spectrum.
19. Do you like green beans?
20. Do you swear a lot?
More than I should, less than I used to.
21. Where did you get the shirt you're wearing?
For my birthday.
22. Do you use an alarm clock?
I use two, and it still takes me an hour to get out of bed.
23. Where was your default MySpace picture taken?
In my ex-boyfreinds ex-car.
24. Do you ever snort when you laugh?
25. Whats the first thing you notice on the opposite sex?
"A man!” Ten points for telling me what musical that’s from.
26. Is cheating ever okay?
Before I’d been cheated on, I would have said yes. But knowing from both sides of the situation (I’ve been cheated on and I’ve been the “other woman”) I would say that no amount of short-term happiness is worth the pain you cause others. If you want to be with someone else, get out of the relationship before anything happens.
27. Do you want someone you can't have?
Many things. But that’s okay. I only want what I want, not what I need.
28. Do you wear underwear?
29. Do you wear a bra?
If I didn’t, I would place myself and others in mortal danger.
30. What Size?
Depending on the brand, anywhere from a D to an E
31. Are you a social or an antisocial person?
Both. I’m quite happy by myself, but I also like to be around people. Depends on my mood, I guess.
32. Do you have a tan?
I have what for me could objectively be called a bit of colour.
33. Are you afraid of the dark?
34. Do you miss someone today?
I miss someone every day. Not the same person every day, mind you.
35. Do you still have pictures of you & your exs?
Yes. It seems ridiculous to erease an entire person from your life. Oh holy god. One still has baby photos of me pouting my mother gave him.
37. Who's always there for you no matter what?
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Rob Sawyers hands were like blurry spiders. Spiders on speed. He was just incredible. B kind of laughed at me because I’m just sitting there gob-smacked, like a child with Santa or something.
The down side to all this music watching is that you get very tired. Gigs tend not to be held during the afternoon, and last night I got home at half one. Which is fine once in a while, but I can’t make a habit of it. For one, I start work at 8am. Secondly, B gets grumpy when he is tired – and I have less patience when I am tired. Thirdly, we will be poor, even though some of these gigs are free or cheap, if we go to one or two gigs a week (Which is what we’re doing at the moment)
Anyway. The chick up the front who was dancing like an idiot at the Corner last night? Twas I. If this keeps up, that boy of mine is going to wear me out.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
The second is from a scalding hot coffee burn. I was six months old, and was sitting on my aunt’s lap and pulled the coffee on to myself. Cue weeks in a burns hospital and a scar that runs from the middle of my chest to the middle of my right breast. It also means that my nipple on that breast is squared off, and the breast itself is misshapen to some degree.
My parents always told me growing up that if I wanted those scars fixed up, if I wanted to see if something could be done about them, they would. They made it clear that it was totally my choice, and that if it bothered me I could do something about it.
I never did anything about it. It never bothered me. The stomach scar has been there since I was six years old, and given the choice, I wouldn’t have it fixed. It saved my life. Pyrolic Stenosis is fatal if untreated and mine was misdiagnosed for so long that only the threats of my father got me any treatment for it at all – I was going to die. That scar means I am alive today. It isn't going anywhere.
The chest scar has also had some other damage done to it as a result of a car accident, so there are also areas that are redder than the rest of the scar, and it looks a lot “fresher”
The scar itself doesn’t bother me. It’s been there so long it’s a part of me, and the only time anyone ever notices it is when they touch it, and the only people who get to do that know me very, very well. But the shape? Wouldn’t mind if that cleared up overnight. I certainly never would have done anything about it in the past, but as I get older, I’m thinking there’ll come a time where I will. I’d at least investigate the possibility of getting the shape fixed up, if that’s possible. I’m not self-conscious about it per-se, but I think about it sometimes. I think about how it would be to have both of them look at least similar. I guess if I wasn’t….. overly blessed in that area, it wouldn’t be so obvious to me, but blessed I am. In abundance.
Now, just to be clear, if you saw me on the street, you’d have no idea. It’s not obvious to the casual observer. But I know. And when I take my bra off, so does everyone else. It looks like what it is – a burn. But the breast itself? I can’t even explain the shape of it. But because of the size of it, it certainly isn’t round, like it’s un-scarred compadre.
So, a question. If you had a scar, and it wasn’t obvious to the casual observer, would you get it fixed, 25 or so years after the fact? If it was just you it’s going to bother, would you see the point?
I’d like some comments and some fresh perspectives on this, because I’m thinking about it more and more.
*Please note. This isn’t something that bothers me a lot. I'm not crying myself to sleep. It isn’t something that effects my self-esteem, or worries me in any way more than if a picture is off-balance. I just look at it and think “If it can be fixed, why wouldn’t I?” But this isn’t a breast augmentation thing either. I’m fixing and ACTUAL DEFECT here. Not looking to be Pamela Mark II or anything.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
I received from 78 Records (Look it up, I can't be bothered) a copy of Lighthouse Family's excellent CD Postcards from Heaven. I'd had it years ago, lost it not long after that, and it was so soothing to me at a time in my life when I needed to be soothed.
So with no expectation that it would work, but with a sigh because I can't load it on to the Ipod, I tried it in the CD player.
It worked. Joy. Serious elation.Oh. Small things, people, small things.
And you know the best thing about this CD now? I never once listened to it whilst I was in a relationship, at any time in my life (I don't know why. It's so joyful, this CD. It's perfect for when you're happy with someone) so it is memory free. Driving to Mount Dandenong (Yes, I was in the drivers seat. Much applause to B for putting up with me) on Sunday on a beautiful sunny day and having lunch at Sky high because, hey, WE GOT THERE ALIVE WITH ME DRIVING is now imprinted on it.
Although it does seem to induce some kind of narcolepsy in B, so I might have to keep the listening to it to myself.
More books tomorrow people. No time today.
kisses, etc. mwah
We were there to witness the genius that is Mr. Tim Freedman. Me for the umpteen and tenth time, B for the first.
For a start, Manchester Lane is somewhere I’ve heard a lot about, but never ventured in to. It’s found fairly easily, being on the street of the same name, and you walk in and the staff are lovely. They escorted us to our table, which was pretty close to the stage, with my only gripe being we had to share it with twenty or so strangers. No matter. B got the first drinks in, and I decided to order a champagne cocktail, because the décor was of the kind that just inspires you to do that. So we ordered the cocktail and waited. And waited. And twenty minutes into the waiting, B asked the waiter if he knew where my drink was. By this time, people who had turned up twenty minutes after I’d ordered my drink were sipping in comfort. It was really, really hot in there. I wanted my drink. But I was patient. Then B started getting annoyed, and him getting annoyed on my behalf annoyed me. Then we asked the waiter again where my drink was. Politely, of course. I don’t believe being rude to hospitality staff gets you anywhere. And we probably waited another, oh, fifteen minutes before I decided to go and get it myself. So I did. By this stage I was a bit shitty. I mean, it wasn’t cheap, this place, and I don’t like shoddy service.
But then the entrée arrived. Slow cooked Rabbit pie for me, oysters something-or-other for B. I hate seafood, so I wasn’t paying much attention. It was delicious. One of the tastiest things I’ve had in a long time. And the main was…..I have not the words. We both had Eye fillet with Garlic sauce, roasted carrot, potato and roasted garlic, and it was sensational. Dessert was double chocolate pudding, which of course I loved.
And then the support act came on. B was loving it, and I have to say apart from the lyrics, which were mind-numbingly depressing, he was pretty good. But support acts are only ever delaying devices for the main act, and I was impatient to see how Tim would perform in this kind of venue. I’d seen him perform in the intimacy of the Speigeltent a year or so before, and I was anxious to see if he would treat it the same.
In a word, no. He treated it half-way between the way he plays a big gig with the Whitlams, and how he’s played the smaller solo gigs. He played with verve, although less than I’ve seen in the past, but I was feeling very hot in my air-conditioned chair, and I wasn’t under lights that were un-tuning the piano, so I’m guessing he was roasting. He was lively in parts, but I think he missed that the crowd contained less of the hard-core Whitlam fans than in past (During Hamburgers, only about three of us yelled “Hot Sauce!” when that would usually be everyone, practically no-one did the Woo-Hoo’s, and during Thank-You, he changed the lyrics to “Thank you, each and every six of you, and fuck off to the rest of you” as only six of us knew to cheer at the appropriate juncture) so there was less predictable interaction.
Anyway, my tip? The dinner and the show bit was well worth the money considering it would have cost easily the amount we paid for a three course dinner of that quality anywhere else. But it was really hot. Not just for me, everyone was hot. B was boiling, there were people who had actual hand-fans going, and that almost spoiled the experience. But apart from that, it was a great night out. I wouldn't go there again on a hot night though.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
And before anyone starts, Dan Brown will NOT be on this list. I tried a good three or four times to read The Da Vinci Code and Devils and Angels, and they were shit. I don’t care how good the plot is, or how much it will change my perception of the Catholic Church. It was badly written. Very, very badly written. I got twenty pages in and hated the main character and his suits.
1. Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen. It’s good. It’s terribly, terribly good. It’s so good that it changes the way I speak while I read it. For a start, if I wasn’t reading it now, I doubt I would have used the word edification. Or said terribly.
2. Hound of the Baskervilles – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a genius (Apart from that spirituality stuff, but anyway). Not only did he come up with the cases and solve them, there was character stuff in there that was great but managed to not detract from the foreground.
3. Great Expectations – Charles Dickens. Who didn’t want Pip to get the fortune and the girl? Who didn’t want to shake him by the shoulders when he got older and needed a good kicking?
4. Tess of the D’urbervilles – Thomas Hardy. When we first read this book in school in an English Lit class, I had to explain to the rest of my classmates what the rape scene meant – they didn’t understand the language. I did, and detested it. Then I came back to it a few years later and all of a sudden it was beautiful. I even named my cat Tess.
5. Sense & Sensibility – Jane Austen. She just created a world that you wanted to live in. I wish things were still that simple, and yet so complex. I would love to live in a world where for the most part, the outcomes were assured, or at least predictable.
6. April Fools Day – Bryce Courtney – If you can read this book and not cry, you qualify as a sociopath in my book.
7. Lunch with the Generals – Derek Hansen – Not a book with a twist, a book with worlds created within worlds. Genius.
8. 1984 – George Orwell – A scary, scary book. A razor sharp, machete of a book. I hate reading it for the same reason I love it – it’s scares the living bejesus out of me.
9. Zig Zag Street – Nick Earls – Nick Earls is a marvellously funny guy. You know those moments that you cringe and think “Oh shit. That never happens to anyone else. I’m a freak”? They’re all in here. Nude Dancing, knocking people unconscious with shoes. Reading this is therapy with a bookmark.
10. Love and Other Near Death Experiences – Mil Millington – Apart from the fact that Mil has red hair and a delightful website, he’s also an astonishingly refreshing writer. The way he writes is the way most people wish they could speak.
11. The First Casualty – Ben Elton – Ben Elton is very good at provoking thought. This book made me laugh, cry and made my head ache with the thinking.
12. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire – J.K Rowling – A rare case of the book well outshining the hype. If you haven’t read them, do it now.
13. The Vampire Lestat – Anne Rice. Anne Rice didn’t just create a series of books. She created a world. You can smell the Queens Wreath. You can hear the water lapping on the shore, and you are suddenly convinced that the things you have always dreaded are real.
Feel free to comment, rail, or just say “Meh” in the comments.
- Things I love:
· The smell of rain. The sound of rain on the roof when I’m undercover. Actually, I don’t mind the rain, apart from what it does to my hair.
· Flowers. Freesias, Roses, Daffodils – I love the smell, the feel of silken petals. I grew my own Daffodils for the first time this year, and they made me smile on my way out of the door every morning.
Thunderstorms. Lightning. Watching the elements make a mockery of us.
·Music. Of late I’ve been organising to attend/attending a lot of gigs and getting a fair bit of new music. In the last few months I’ve discovered Feist, Rufus Wainwright, Interpol, Faker and Editors. New music is great
· Old music is greater. I ordered a CD I’d lost a while ago – Lighthouse Family, Postcards from Heaven, and it’s bliss. Like slipping into a warm blanket with a book you’ve read a thousand times and a big steaming mug of hot chocolate.
Things I want:
· A car. Preferably a Mazda 3, or if you’re feeling really generous, an Astin Martin DB9. But a 1994-1996 Toyota Corolla would do me nicely.
·A license to drive said car. And an end to the fear that I’m about to kill myself and anyone else within a kilometre.
· A holiday. A proper holiday. It feels like years since the last holiday but it was only two months ago I was in Perth.
· To have remembered when Bon Jovi tickets went on sale. I missed out AGAIN.
Things I have that I never thought I would:
·Clear Lungs. I can’t believe how congested my lungs were, and how easily I ignored it. I honestly didn’t realise how bad they were. I ran on Sunday, and I was tired, sure, but I wasn’t out of breath. Unbelievable.
·A pretty good relationship with my mother. Which is a HUGE improvement from being angry/upset/hurt/murderous when thinking about her or seeing her. I’ve just learnt that she is how she is, and nothing I say is going to change that. All I can do is try and focus on the positive aspects of our relationship and make the most of that.
· B. To say that before I met him I was not expecting to find myself as happy with him as I am now, well, that’s an understatement. I didn’t expect to find him at all. I didn’t expect to find myself missing him when he went away for the weekend. I didn’t expect anything. And that’s sometimes when the best things happen – when you least expect them.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
No, I don’t still talk to my ex. No, there was no nastiness about why we are not speaking, we just aren’t. I can’t speak for him, nor would I attempt to, but the reason I don’t attempt contact with him is simply because I don’t feel the need to. I’ve moved on, I’m sure he has as well, and I’m leaving it at that.
Yes, I do believe you can be friends with an ex. I do believe in platonic friendship between men and women, and I think it’s possible even with people who have had a relationship at some stage. My best mate A is a man, and there’s more chance of me sleeping with a 3000-year-old mummy than with him. As long as you are both on the same page, I don’t see why it would be an issue. Not everyone believes this, though, and it’s up to the individual.
No, I don’t feel any bitterness towards The Boy. He’s not a bad person. He did things I didn’t like sometimes, but so does everybody. He made a decision he thought was right for him at the time, and though I didn’t like how he did it, I wouldn’t have liked it no matter how he did it, so it’s all academic, really. I don’t hold grudges; I don’t hold anything for him, actually. He’s a part of my life I can’t and don’t want to erase – if I did, I’d lose every happy memory I had with him – and there were many, and I would not be the person I am now. But that’s about it, really. I don’t feel anything – bitterness, regret, anger, love, hate. The past is the past. I can’t change it now, nor would I want to. I would love to tell you everyone gets to that stage, but I know people who have split up with exes and cursed their name until the day they die. I’m just not one of those people. I hope he’s happy and he took a lot away from our time together.
The other question I was asked was how what I feel about B compares to what I felt for The Boy. Well, it doesn’t, because they are very, very different people. I met them in completely different circumstances in different times in my life. I think it would do a disservice to all involved (and even those not!) to make any kind of comparison on how I feel. But yes, they are very different – looks, personality, likes and dislikes – there’s no question they’re different. But that doesn’t mean anything in terms of how I feel. It’s different – of course it’s different! And that’s a good thing. If every relationship were exactly like the one before, why would you ever bother starting another one?
And lastly, No. Emphatically No. I am not afraid to trust again. Something I realised a long time ago was that trusting someone is as much about trusting your own judgement of people, as it is about how much those people deserve your trust. And I’ve always said that I won’t let things that have happened in the past effect how I judge other people. THEY didn’t hurt me, so why would I hold them accountable for it?
Bah! That’s my last word on the subject. I don’t want this to be about post-morteming to death something that doesn’t exist anymore. I am happy, I have so much to be thankful for, and dwelling on the past isn’t adding to that. So, if you please, no more questions, because I won’t be answering them!
Oh, and feel free to actually put things in the comments section rather than e-mailing me.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Last night B cooked me dinner (ha) actually, we ended up cooking it together, because he wanted me to chop the onions, and then I kind of went on a herb hunting spree and it actually turned out to be pretty great. Also, we looked more into the holiday thing, and it looks like it might be a goer. It was nice to spend some time together, because B was away at the weekend, and, well, I missed him. I’m not even sure I actually said that to him. He told me he missed me, I know that, but I don’t think I said that I missed him. Will have to rectify that tonight or tomorrow.
Tonight is my one free night this week. B and I are going to my mothers tomorrow, so he can meet her and she can fill him full of food. Which should suit both of them, because he is a pig and she is a chef. Thursday is my work Christmas party, which is at a Thai restaurant, so that should be good. Friday I know I have something on but I can’t remember what. Saturday I have a driving lesson in the morning (More on that later) and Saturday night I’m going to see Tim Freedman at Manchester Lane. Hurrah!
On to the later bit. I am learning to drive again. As in, this is my fourth attempt at learning to drive. Generally I get to a month or two in and lose interest/give up/stop caring and leave it for another, ooh, three years or so.
This time is different. I’m determined to have both my license and a car within six months at the absolute outside. I’m 25 years old, for the love of God! I should have taken this step years ago. And it’s different as well because I am much, much more confident behind the wheel. My low-speed manoeuvres last week were great, which made up for the lesson before (six days into the non-smoking) when I nearly hit a car. It was the lack of concentration, I’m sure. I couldn’t concentrate on anything at the time, never mind learning things. That’s what I’m telling myself, anyway.
Also, I am going to make a concerted effort to save money. I need to have money behind me. To that end I have written out a budget and this time I am bloody well sticking to it. There’s no excuse at my age for not being able to save money. None at all. I will stop buying shoes instead of saving money. I will stop buying CD’s instead of saving money. I will stop buying doonas, and tents (more on that tomorrow, if I have time) and things I don’t need, instead of building some kind of security for my life.
If I can quit smoking, I can do anything. I just need to set my mind to it. I used to be good at that, once upon a time. And I will be again.
Monday, November 26, 2007
I have no idea how. I have the will power of an alcoholic at a brewery. I had thought about quitting for a long time, but I hadn't really made any serious attempt before. No patches, no gum, no nicotine replacement at all.
Just sheer bloody mindedness and a determination not to go through the first few days again.
And, most importantly of all, no casualties. And I have been informed by impartial judges that I was NOT cranky.
Even I don't believe it, but it's true.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Vote him out, please.
I don't like the alternative all that much, but I just can't put up with another three years of this.
Plus, you know, Costello as PM? If we have to have a Costello, can't it be the one with the conscience?
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Speed update! Have met B's parents, and everything went really well. B's Mother apparently described me as "A lovely girl" and his Dad seemed pretty cool too.
Also, we're planning a holiday to Tasmania in March/May.
And, HE SUGGESTED SHOPPING. I repeat, a man, that's right, the one with the trousers, suggested shopping.
I don't want to jinx this, but things are going really, really well.
Plus, you know, shopping. Cool.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
Sunday, November 04, 2007
I have the house to myself this weekend, which has been good. Nice and quiet. But it is hard to stay smoke free when you are in a house by yourself, and a little voice in your head keeps saying "No one will ever know, Keri. You could go and get some cigarettes now, smoke yourself stupid and then start again when people get back"
Then I remember what the first four days of quitting were like, and I have no urge to ever go through that again. Ever. I really don't want to go through four days of constantly thinking about something I can't have and wanting to hurt inanimate objects. So I'm keeping myself busy, and just remember all the good things about not having a habit that will kill me. Like not dying. That's pretty much top of the list, you know?
Anyway. Last night B and I went and saw Gala Flamenca at Hamer Hall, and it was amazing. I had all these pre-conceived notions about what Flamenco dancing was, and it was nothing like that at all. It was all solo and group work - no couples - and it was very beat-centric. And completely stunning. The way everything - limbs, dresses, jackets, shirts - are props and part of the dance was just amazing. And apparently an awful lot of it is improvised, which is just astounding.
Tonight B and I are going to a Saw marathon, which should be interesting. Four straight movies of cringe-worthy gore. Yeah! And Tuesday I'm - wait for it - meeting his sister. Considering the trouble I've had with sisters and mothers (Aka, Bitches from Hell, tm) I'm hoping it goes well, but if it doesn't, I'm not going to get myself worked up about it. It's just not worth it.
Anyway, off to have a bath now. Hopefully this time I can get through it without dropping my phone into it. I know, what the hell did I have my phone in the bath for anyway? I don't really know either.
Friday, November 02, 2007
No excuses this time. Things have happened and I've just put some things on the backburner. I'll try, I swear I'll try this time.
Okay, so what's new? Erm, The Boy and I are no more. And permanently, this time. Definitely permanently. I'll try and make this bit quick. We'd been living together for about 5 months, and I lost my job. And I'd had a bad run with jobs - made redundant, not made permanent in another, and the latest I was told my services were no longer required because the Branch Manager I was going to be Credit Analyst for didn't start. That was on a Wednesday. On the Thursday, The Boy walks in, and says he can't be in a relationship with someone who can't hold down a job, and who always thinks they're right. And I had two days to find somewhere to live and get my stuff out. So, thanks for that. See ya later.
So off I goes to my parents house, and they've been amazing. They couldn't have been better to me. That was five months ago, and in the meantime I've lost 12 kilos, gotten a great new job, closer to home, quit smoking (120 hours and counting!) Been on holiday with my best mates, and met someone else. I've been seeing him for about two weeks, and all's going well so far.
His name I won't disclose, in the grand tradition of not putting peoples names on the Internet, but let's call him B, since his name starts with that.
He's sweet, he's kind, he's funny, we get on like a house on fire (Three hour phone conversations, texting like crazy, 10 hour dates) and the most random things happen on our dates.
Our first date we went Bowling and discovered that I can bowl just as well (hideously, incidentally) with either hand. Which he found hilarious. Then we played pool for five hours, and we discovered that I'm not as bad as I thought I would be after a three year hiatus, and that B's a natural. Then we went for dinner, and during the course of it it became clear that I was getting rapidly ill. So he dropped me home early - seven hours after our date had commenced. Our next date I met him at his work in the city, and we went for dinner at one of my favourite restaurants - Blue Train - and one course took us three hours to finish because we were talking at a hundred miles an hour. We walked around Southbank for hours, sitting on a bench for a while and listening to the beat of the drums coming from up the river. At one stage, I went into the toilet and came out to find him sitting on top of a 15 foot rock like some kind of gnome. On our third date we played pool again, went for dinner at a Thai restaurant where the service made him angry and made me laugh, drove down to St. Kilda for coffee and a fifteen minute firework display started up about five metres from where we were sitting.
Neither of us had any idea why, because there didn't seem to be anything going on to warrant it, but it was pretty damn amazing to see. Then we walked along the pier, and sat and looked at the Cityscape for a while, and then went on a bay cruise. None of it was planned, but things just tend to work out that way.
It's just been great to get to know someone from scratch and discover all the things about someone in good time.
And without further ado, I'm shutting up, because I'll bloody well jinx it, and who knows what'll happen with it? It's all so new.
I'm trying to think of other news? Oh yes. The election. I'm sick of it. John Howard throws money at us. Surprise, surprise. Rudd looks smug. Shock, Horror. Bring on the 24th so I can stop bloody hearing about it. I've gone full circle back to apathetic about politics again.
Sheesh. Nothing for months and then I can't shut up.