Wednesday, March 29, 2006

It's Alive!

Dropping the boys off to school this morning, I made my way directly to the supermarket. I don't have a particular day that I do the grocery shopping anymore. In fact, lately I've been leaving it to the moment when I absolutely HAVE to go. You know, like when we run out of toilet paper or something equally as important.

I was staring bleary eyed through the glass at the raw diced chicken, thinking about dinner, when I was abruptly woken up by the sound of the butcher bellowing across the counter "GOOD MORNING! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!" This man was sunny and helpful and the volume of his voice accosted my still sleeping senses.

What is it with these men? Have you ever noticed how cheerful and smiley butchers seem to be? They're always so pleased to see you, and I don't think it has anything to do with how appealing we may we're standing there with our hair trussed back, woolly sweater, track pants and slippers on (yeah I know, quite the lovely visual isn't it?).

You know what I think? I think that because they have to deal with so much raw dead meat all day, that when a live 'one' comes into focus, they joyfully leap at the chance of spending time with it.

So, I reckon, if you're ever having a downer of a day, go visit your local butchery....those guys will make you feel so damn pleased to be alive, you'll be turning cartwheels down the aisles! But may I suggest you don't visit if you're feeling hungover? Oh and make sure you're wearing panties, you don't want to put the other shoppers off acquiring their food supplies. Hungry families to be fed an' all that.

Or, you could always do what I was thinking today and bellow back "WHO MADE YOU THE SUNSHINE FAIRY OF THE DAY?? SHUT THE HELL UP!" lol
Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Pushing the Boundaries of Friendship?

I could've had sex on Saturday.

I could've...but I didn't.

This all happened around 10am Saturday morning when he dropped in for a visit because he was in town. He had to fly out again late that afternoon, so we decided to catch up that morning before the flight.

Now, I'm not opposed to having sex during the daylight hours, and although it wasn't planned....we had discussed it earlier in the week, on an "if it happens, it happens" basis. I was feeling pretty sure by the time I hung the phone up that night, that it wasn't going to be happening for me.

This man is a dear friend of mine, I've known him for several years, and I will admit we've danced around the subject of sex off and on over the years...but to be honest, I've never really thought of him in that way. The idea occasionally flits across your mind, very briefly, but going through with it in the real world? An entirely different thing altogether.

Anyway, he turns up, and for the first time in our friendship, I'm feeling awkward in his presence. That part sucked. I didn't want to feel that way, I wanted to feel comfortable without any pressure. Eventually, after we'd exhausted small talk, I told him how I was feeling. He says "come here and let's try starting out with a hug". Reluctantly I moved to the sofa. He put his arms around me and I relaxed against him.

Ok, that part was nice. Feeling a pair of strong male arms around me is always a good feeling I reckon....I could've quite comfortably laid against him like that and talked for ages. Then we got to the "Ok, I'm about to kiss you" part. I immediately froze...I didn't want to kiss him. I forced myself to relax and thought "What the hell...I'm a single woman, this might be enjoyable, the least I can do is give it a shot." So I let him kiss me...first moment his lips touched my mouth, his tongue was in. OMG! I had to stop myself from screwing my nose up and shoving him away yelling "Get the fuck off me!"

I tried to pull back but I was jammed up against the sofa by this stage and there was nowhere to go. I reached between us and put my hand on his mouth..."Keep your tongue to yourself for the moment ok?"....Righty we try again...His breathing had become ragged, I could feel his heart hammering in his chest and yet it did nothing for me. How I was, in the clutches of a tall good looking man, nice bod...this was a bad time to discover I'm frigid.

Honestly, I felt inner stirrings, no urges, Which is saying alot for someone who hasn't had sex for a while and is in the 'zone', if you get my drift. In fact I'd go so far as to say the whole experience was a complete and utter turn off for me. I have to give him his due, he tried, he was charming, understanding etc...but the idea of having sex, just 'because we could' didn't appeal to me. We gave it a shot, it didn't be it.

We talked about it, he accepted that I wasn't interested and we spent the rest of the morning yacking about anything and everything. He gave me a lovely big hug before he left, told me this makes no difference whatsoever to our friendship (not that I thought it would to be honest, we're pretty solid), and I apologised for winding him up because I was feeling like such a cock tease. Never EVER want to feel that way. It certainly wasn't deliberate.

We were crazy to even try I reckon. Earlier while we were cuddled up on the sofa he says to me "You can't blog about this you know"...."Yes I can, Noone will know who I'm talking about anyway."...."Yeah well, at least change my name ok?"

"I can do that for sure...hey, you can be my John"
Sunday, March 26, 2006

You Can Leave Your Hat On

When I was visiting my sister with Alice a month or so ago, my sister brought out this brown fuzzy hat to show us. Apparently she wears it in the shower instead of a shower cap. Her husband walked into the bathroom one morning to find his wife in the shower, fuzzy hat on her head. He raised his hands saying "Don't tell me...I don't even want to know".

My sister has beautiful long curly hair....she hates it (of course she does, if it were straight she'd want it curly right?). So every so many days she does the ardous task of getting out the GHD and straightening her hair. If you know anything about straightening your own hair at home, you would know, that when it gets wet, the curl comes back. Sproing! So to protect her straightness, she wears the only thing she found that she could stuff her hair up into.

Now, I don't have a shower cap either, and if I'm not washing my hair in the shower that day, I pin it back with a claw clip, go about my business and for the most part my hair doesn't get that wet. But, then the hat idea took hold in my mind...what a great way to keep ALL my hair dry!

Cameron's beanie fell mercy to my charms.

I stuffed all my hair up into that woollen knitted hat, made sure it was completely covered....and yes, I did look like a right wally and was happy that noone was home to see me looking that way. I hopped in the shower, didn't worry about how I moved or bent over (to shave my legs you cretins, why ELSE would I be doing that??...don't answer that). The hat worked perfectly, what a brilliant sister I have!

Ryan came home after school that day with a new friend. I'm not sure what it is about that kid and his home, but anytime he has someone new to the house, he feels it's his duty to show them each and every room in the place.

So while I'm standing in my bedroom, nothing but a towel draped across the front of me, woolly beanie still resident on my head, the door is flung open to the sound of

"And THIS is my mother's bedroom"....

Three bodies freeze.

"Oh....hi Mum.....this is Josh. Josh, this is my..uh...Mum, Lisa." *blush*

*Josh waves* "Hi Mrs K"

"Hi's nice to meet you."

"Yeah..well...anyway, we've got things to do now...see ya"

Door shuts firmly. I sigh with relief...

Door swings open again just as fast.

"By the way Mum..."


*clears throat* "Nice hat"
Thursday, March 23, 2006

Explaining the Unexplainable

Something devastating happened after the softball club prizegiving on Saturday night.

A young man...18 years old next month....took his own life by hanging himself from a tree in the neighbour's back yard. A six year old found him. From what I've heard he attended a party after the prizegiving....and he was going around saying goodbye to people. Everyone thought he was just being silly...noone took him seriously. And why would they? Who would suspect that such a tragedy was about to occur?

Obviously those he left behind are numb with grief and questioning the why's and wherefores of his actions. As is usual in so many cases of suicide, noone is ever going to find out the reason. I have read so many tributes to him...and from all accounts he was a smiling, laughing teenager that seem to make it his business to keep his friends happy and smiling. It makes no sense at all.

The college students were informed about this former pupil when they returned to school on Tuesday. Alice had telephoned on Monday afternoon with the news and she spoke to Cameron first, asking him if he knew of this boy. Alice's daughter (16) has been in Australia for the past 3 weeks and received the news via text from one of her friends. From that moment on she was texting her mother saying she wanted to come home straight away.

Cameron didn't know him but I soon discovered that Ryan, although not close to this young man, did indeed know him through association with another acquiantance.

My youngest son has been affected by this more than I realised. He's been distracted in class, is finding himself staring off into the distance thinking about it...and he refuses to go back to see the school counsellor. He said "I didn't even know him that well, how can I be part of those that are grieving for him?" Tuesday night we had a very lengthy talk about suicide and how I imagined people that attempt it, or accomplish it must feel at that time of their lives.

How can I explain something I don't understand myself? How can I help him try to come to terms with something that we, as adults, can't come to terms with ourselves? I talked to him about how there were so many things to look forward to at such a young age....his first pay check....learning to drive....his first legal alcoholic drink....his 21st birthday party. I avoided going so far as to speak of getting married and becoming a father...that would have seemed so far out of reach in his mind at his age I felt.

My ex husband has another view, and I admit that I don't disagree with some of what he said. He dropped off a couple of friends at an evening tribute that was held last night...he said there were kids all over the place...all crying. His first thought was "Look at what you've done to these people. How could you do this to them?".

There is no politically correct way to talk about teenage suicide...there is no way to soften the catastrophic blow. I can't even find the words to describe how deeply I feel for his parents. I can't possibly imagine what they must be going through. The other night as I sat here and spoke with Ryan, I had a fleeting jolt of how I would feel if he was taken away from took all I had to stay put and not run off to the bathroom to vomit. I would be inconsolable.

The funeral was held this morning and I was unable to go but Ryan went along with friends. Fortunately, Alice was in attendance with her daughter and she was able to keep an eye out for Ryan....she told me later that he spent most of the service with his head in his hands. A group of the young man's team mates (rugby and softball) performed a haka outside the church in his honour. I can imagine it would have been a very emotional display. There were at least three of his previous teachers at the funeral that had travelled from other parts of the country to be there.

If he could see the pain he had caused others, and the amount of people that loved and cared for him while he was still on this earth, would it have made a difference to him? It scares me to think that no matter how much love, support and friendship we can give someone, they still may not feel that they're worthy of sticking around to grow old with their peers.

What a terrible waste of a life.
Monday, March 20, 2006

Much Ado About Nothing

I went out Saturday night. The annual softball prizegiving evening was held last night, and although I haven't played for two seasons now, I still attend the end of season knees-up. It's always a great night, spent amongst great people and I love to dance. Been a while since I really loosened up enough to bust some moves on the dance floor....that's not to say I'm any good at it...just that I was relaxed enough to do it. Read my lips...."bourbon and coke".

Being a single woman in my 40's, there are a few things that come to the fore under these circumstances (actually the fact that I'm 40 doesn't have a lot to do with that, I noticed it the moment I shed my husband at the age of 33). The first one is that I'm single. The second is there are married women around watching the single women...and their proximity to said married women's spouses.

Why is that? Do they think we're going to run off with their husbands if they don't watch closely enough? Surely we should be able to dance with whoever we like without causing some kind of under-rumblings. I never felt the need to watch my ex-husband so closely....we would often dance with other people, and come back together off and on over the course of the evening. Isn't that what's socialising is about? Or did I miss something?

What stumped me the most about this was, these are women that I've known for years through the club....ladies that I've got on well with and socialised with. Just because I become single, does that mean I get dropped into a different cateogry other than 'friend'? Does a neon light flash on above our heads..."Predator"? I never would've dreamed to worry about that with my ex, he was loyal to the nth degree when it came to his wife and children.

When we seperated over 7 years ago now, we made an agreement....that if either of us were ready to move on, we would keep it out of the know, out of respect for the other half, didn't want to hurt their feelings, have any awkward moments etc. He eventually hooked up with another lady from the club he breached our 'contract'...but that's ok, because I know she's made his life miserable for several years that should teach him a lesson good and proper eh? lol

Attending one of these functions means three things to me these days. I either have to dance with many married men, no discrimination or favouritism allowed...I can stick to dancing with my single or married girlfriends....or I end up dancing with my ex-husband. There's a certain amount of 'power' to being the ex-wife...and I will admit that on a couple of occasions I've wielded that sword to prove a point, but for the most part I behave myself and I'm a damn good ex.

To be honest, I'd really rather not have to think much about it....why can't I just go out dancing without the possibility of rumours being fuelled? And ok, some of the men really do deserve to have their wives hold on to them by short leashes. What is it about divorcees that they think are 'easy meat'? Is it because they think she's not getting regular sex that they could be 'in' for the night? That she's going to leap at the chance of having sex...any matter who they are? Does the label "divorce" mean we're now devoid of any standards or principals?

Maybe I've thought about it too much, and am being sensitive to the fact that I am single? Maybe I'm over reacting about it, and none of it's actually know, like the proverbial figment of my imagination?

On the dance floor Saturday I was either with Alice, my ex-husband, Anna's husband - Jason or my ex-softball team mates. Regardless of who I was with, I had a great time dancing. I'd forgotten how much I missed it. Yesterday as I walked down the stairs at home, I realised not only is my body not up to taking in so much alcohol, but my knees are not up to coping with that kinda dancing anymore.

On my top half I wore a fairly low cut red sequined top with spaghetti straps. I can only wear this top if someone (namely Cameron or Alice) safety pins the straps to my bra's the only way I can wear it without it falling half way down my chest. From my viewpoint (looking straight down), it looks like I've got my chest fully on show, but anyone looking directly at me can only see a very small amount of, if any, cleavage.

I got two direct compliments...both from married, one single. My single friend said "God, I looked at you tonight and I felt jealous...made me think "Why the hell did I cut my tits off" lol"

The second one came from the newly married Anna "You know, if I was a man, that...*pointing at my chest*... is exactly where I'd like to have my head cushioned tonight".

So,I don't know what all the fuss is's only the females that notice me anyway lol.
Saturday, March 18, 2006

My, How Things Have Changed.

I'm back.

Not sure for how long, but seeing as this is free, I can't be jumping up and down complaining about it really can I? Besides, I know the people at Blogger will be working their little butts off to return our regularly scheduled programme back to normal!

For the time being I'm going to post an HNT pic for the weekend....a pic I would've posted yesterday had I been able to get here. lol

No, that is not my bed. No, those aren't my naughty ornaments. And no, those handcuffs don't belong to me. But...yes, those are my hands, so it's within the guidelines of HNT right? Oh and one more...No, this picture was not taken under the circumstances you might be thinking. Unfortunately I don't have any green for St Patrick's Day in it (which was a requirement this week)...but I was married to a Patrick once, AND that's gotta count for having plenty of irish bloodstock in me over the years I reckon lol. day last week I noticed my hit counter shot up over 250 hits in less than half an hour...after taking a quick look in my stats, I discovered that not only was someone scrolling through my archives and posts at a great rate of knots, but it was my very own IP address that was doing it.

After further investigation it turned out that Ryan was hunting for a photo of himself, and rather than come out of his bedroom, he thought it easier to ask Cameron for my web address and find a photo on my site.

Should either of them come back to take a look, I've posted one specially for them. This is one sure way of getting them out of their bedrooms, even if it is to rush out here and yell at me lol.

And just in case you need the reminder...this is what they look like now...

I've just recently dropped Cameron off at work (at the bakery), and now that I know it's possible to get into my page, I'm going back to bed for more sleep.

Goodnight, good morning, or good afternoon, depending on when you read this.

Happy HNT and have a great weekend everyone!
Thursday, March 16, 2006

My Son...The Magician

Ryan (15 next month) came home from school on Monday and announced "Well it's official...I now hate my music class". My heart dropped...this is (was) one of his favourite classes.

At the beginning of the school year, the class was split into groups of 3 or more, and each group was to decide on a song to play at an up and coming concert (two weeks from now). For the past 6 weeks Ryan has been practising on his guitar and learning the tune to "Six Feet from the Edge" by Creed.

On Monday, due to one of the other groups only consisting of two students, he now has to learn "Iron Maiden" by Iron Maiden. Have you heard the guitar work in this song?? My son is a novice electric guitar player, and while I'm not going to doubt that he has the capability to get the job done...that's mighty intricate finger work to achieve in two weeks.

He reckons he'll be ok. I have to admire his spirit and give him credit for having the confidence...but in the meantime I'd be willing to have a go at his music teacher for doing that to him at such short notice. Saying that, in the past Ryan has proven himself to be someone that can be counted on to step in at the last minute to help out.

A few years ago, he had auditioned for the school of the main parts...a crazy scientist character. Lots of stage time, lots of lines....he didn't get the role, but was still part of the play (he was basically prancing around on stage half-clad, with a large lightning bolt painted on his chest lol).

Come opening night, the young student that was the scientist didn't turn up...hadn't telephoned to say he'd not be there....just didn't arrive. (It was found out later that he'd gone to his cousin's birthday party instead.)

The drama teacher, beside herself with last minute hiccups and trying to organise at least 50 students on the night...grabbed Ryan..."Well Ryan, you wanted the part, here's your chance to play it"...and jammed the frizzy bright orange wig on his head. My son had all of 15 minutes to get into a white lab coat and a pair of colourful stripey pants, let alone go over his lines. He was 11 years old at the time.

He fronted up on stage, clipboard in hand and blew away the audience with his improvisation and fast thinking. This all happened on a Tuesday late night shift at the unfortunately I never got to see him play this part. We had bought tickets to see the show the following night. I heard nothing about it from Ryan himself, so I had no idea what had happened, until other parents and students brought it up at a later date.

I don't know whether he didn't think it was worth mentioning or whether he thought I'd make a big deal about it if he told me (the kid hates me fussing over him lol)....whatever he thought or didn't, I couldn't have been prouder of him for stepping up to the plate and smacking the ball out of the park.

I've got my fingers crossed that the same will happen in his music class this year. This is the first year that counts for him as far as exams and credits are concerned and I'm finding it a difficult task sitting back, giving gentle encouragment without doing the impersonation of a heavy rock on his back all the time.

Ryan is like his Dad in many ways....traits he can be and should be, proud of. Just as his father was always so good at pulling a rabbit out of the hat when we needed him to the most...Ryan is also very capable of doing the same thing and has done so several times over the years already.

Today, I'm sitting here hoping that fluffy bunny can perform a mean-arse rendition of "Iron Maiden" in two weeks time.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Where There's Smoke...

Early yesterday evening I drove past the local firestation. We have a very small firestation....for years there's been talk of them shutting it down and joining with the neighbouring bigger surburb. The community uproar basically consisted of a very loud "OI! Bollocks to that!!"....and for the time being, we're still lucky to have one. And when I say "one", I mean that's how many fire trucks live at our station lol. Yep, just the one. But that one firetruck is what gives our community some security when and if it needs it.

I believe there are only 2 permanent firemen at this firestation, the rest are volunteers. Several years ago standing on a balcony of one of my friend's houses, I heard the fire siren go off. It sounds like the civil defence emergency siren, it's so loud it can be bloody deafening if you're close enough. My friend's house is high on the hill, and has a terrific view of the community. The siren went off...and within minutes there were cars screeching to a halt in front of the running inside to get into their uniforms....then the firetruck driving down the street, it's siren blearing. It was pretty impressive to witness from my perch...seeing the cars on the street parting like the Red Sea allowing the truck through.

Last Saturday night after dropping off a friend (no guesses as to who that might be right? Everyone yell "ALICE!" lol)....I was coming back along the motorway with Cameron (my company on the trip home, girl's gotta have good peeps to share her car time with)....turning in at the bottom of the Gorge, there was no way NOT to notice the air was thick with smoke. We could hear sirens in the first thought was my ex-husband's business, it was sitting right there amongst the smoke....but nope thank God.

As I drove further up the hill the smoke cleared until we got to the main road of my suburb...there were police cars everywhere, coppers out waving torches, directing traffic. I eventually managed to drop Cam back off at his Dad's and came home. Once inside I looked across the valley seeing the flashing lights from the firetrucks....there in the sky was an orange glow, thick smoke obscuring my otherwise beautiful skyline.

It was very windy here on Saturday night....a fireman's nightmare....and as I watched from my window I saw flames flaring as the wind fanned one stage it looked like they'd got it under control...then the wind would be back to move it further across the hill. During this time I heard the helicopters arrive with their monsoon buckets.

There were several fire stations called out....I could see fire trucks strewn around the street...parked haphazardly, every possible space being taken up with firemen and their apparatus trying to get the job done. God how I felt for those workers....just when they were being encouraged by it backing down, the beast would flare up again and move several metres burning any scrub or tree in it's path. The neighbouring houses were being doused with water by their owners....the street had come alive at 10.30pm, the community pitching in desperately trying to save homes.

Thank God noone was hurt, and no homes were lost. When I woke on Sunday morning, firetrucks were still across the valley, but for the most part the fire was under control....apparently they were still battling flare ups on Sunday night. I watched tiny yellow/orange figures making their way across the blackness of the hill....inspecting every square metre making sure.

This picture was on the front of the following morning's national paper.

WELL-EARNED BREAK: Sean Mintey, of Upper Hutt's rural fire department, rests after battling one of four suspicious fires to hit Wellington over the weekend.

Someone is out there starting these fires up around the region....I'm not even going to touch on that here....don't get me wrong, I have plenty to say about it....most of it's not for innocent ears. Besides, just sitting here thinking about it at the moment has my stomach in knots and my blood pressure nuff said...for now.

When I drove past the fire station yesterday, there were 5 firetrucks outside....approximately 20 men busy rinsing off gear and packing up. Although they looked tired and pretty grubby they were joking around and laughing with each other. There's obviously a special comaraderie between workers in this field....just as there is in any industry that your day's/night's work is to be putting your life on the line on a regular basis.

I drove past twice....tooting my horn in support....they probably thought I was some kinda lunatic lol...but hell, there's just something about community spirit and people joining together at times like this, that gives me goosebumps. If I didn't think they'd have all disappeared by the time I got back there, I would've baked them some scones (no matter how bad my scones can be lol), just to show how much I appreciate them being there for us. I wish I had the balls to stop and get a photo of them for you lol. gorgeous firemen/women....I love that you're around to keep us safe and assist in any way possible when we need you. Thank you so much for looking after my community...thank you for your tireless bravery. I take my hat off to you and the hard work you've put into the Wellington hills over the heart goes out to you during Guy Fawke's must never get any rest that week.

God bless you lovely firemen...don't ever change...we love you just the way you are. Yeah, you heard me...PLEASE don't civvies for me just stay that your uniforms, phwoarr!!
Monday, March 13, 2006

All By Myself...Or Maybe Not

I stayed overnight at Alice's Friday night. I finally got to bed at 2am...that was after I'd already been asleep on the couch since about 12.30am. Yep, that's middle name isn't "Stamina" for nothing ya know *snort*.

Saturday morning I crawled from her daughter's room, into bed beside Al and we watched Bridget Jones' Diary...again. As I sat there staring at the telly and eating reheated leftover pizza for breakfast, my brain cogs began to spin. Bridget Jones was in her early 30's right? She was fixated on her weight, how much she smoked and drank..and the lack of men in her life....or maybe more the lack of a significant male in her life.

So....I've just begun the journey into my 40's...I'm not obssessed with my weight, although I probably should be...I know I certainly shouldn't be drinking is minimal, so at least I've got that bit under control....and as for the lack of men in my life? Well, that's another matter entirely....and one I can live with for now.

But...I don't want to be on my own for the rest of my life. And some day I'm expecting that will change...eventually someone will come into my life....there has to be someone out there who deserves whatever shape, mentally and/or physically, I may be at that point in time lol. Not that I'm in any hurry whatsoever. God knows I need plenty of time on my own to sort out my internal shit and discover what it is that I have to offer. Like..."would you like fries with that?"

At work last week, one of the patients was yakking away to me in reception....she'll be 62 this year and we were talking about some of her life etc. Then she said the words that had me mentally gasping for oxygen.

"I've been on my own for 21 years now, Lisa"

21 years??! oh my god....21 years?? Do the math people. That would bascially mean she's been on her own since she was 41....I'm going to be 41 in June. There is, of course, a possibility that I could indeed end up on my own forever after, BUT.....being one for shoving the negatives to the back of the cupboard and encouraging the positives to the front....I refuse to believe that could happen to me...deny, Deny, DENY!

My recent experience has made me wonder if perhaps I'm going to need a MASSIVE house to accommodate another adult living with me. I'm going to need a whole wing dedicated to my space...and he, whoever that poor bugger might be, will need to have another wing dedicated to his space...for when he needs to get away from me lol.

We could rig up a gong in the centre know, that's where the two marble staircases wind down to the first floor? Told you this was a massive house I'm fantasising about. Anyway, back to the gong...we could bash it when things got to the air-snorting-through-angry-bulls-nostrils stage...retreat to our respective corners of Spacedom...coming back together again after decompressing...our coping mechanisms firmly intact.

Anyway, nuff of that, it'll happen, when and if it wants to happen.

While sitting at McD's yesterday afternoon, my cellphone rang. My brother is coming to town...he's flying over with his fiancee and the gorgeous baby Lyla this afternoon some time. It's been a while since I spoke to him and I told him so.

"It's been so long since I talked to you last, did Mum tell you what's going on in my life now?"
"This sounds exciting, what's the news?"
"I've got a new partner...her name is Alice...and she'd really love to meet you"
"Oh really!?" *sounding too happy for me*
"No David, I'm only teasing you, ya shmuck"
"But it wouldn't matter if you were, you're my sister and I love you"...

Earlier that evening I get a phone call from my father. My Dad always yells down the phone, he appears to think he has to, to be heard properly from the South Island to the North. "HELLOOOO!"....he bellowed sounding like he had a forced nothing-wrong-in-his-world kinda tone. "Hi Dad, how are you?" "I'M GOOD! YOU LOOKING AFTER THOSE BOYS? ANYTHING NEW HAPPENING IN YOUR LIFE??"... " there be?"

This morning I woke, switched on my cellphone and got a text message from my older sister (who incidentally arrived in Australia yesterday afternoon and was surprised to find my brother waiting to pick her and hubby up at the airport.) The text read "Hi, just had dinner at Dave's, it was gr8, Nic is so nice, Lyla is beautiful & I hear you're a lesbian now LOL Not that it would matter if you were".

So ya see, there's a rumour going around about me....what's more, it's one I started myself! It just confirms my sense of humour is sometimes lost on my own family *sigh*. I'll tell you something though....I do love the fact that my family were being so careful and PC about it all....just in case. So is this what my life has come to? Because I have no significant male in my life, people might think that I've swung to the other side?

Nah...surely not...I'm far too interested in having a good raunchy romp between the sheets with a man...and my enjoyment of that has been more than obvious at times across these pages. But we should never say never, because if 21 years of downtime starts looking like a strong possibility, I might have to reassess the situation.

You know?...just in case.
Thursday, March 09, 2006

Sleeping Next Door to Alice

A couple of weeks ago, the infamous Al and I, for seperate reasons, had a particularly trying Saturday morning. While I was crying down the phone to another friend, the beeps came through...answering that call, I heard Alice crying on the phone....I say goodbye to the first caller and go back to Al. After we both managed to stop blubbering, we laughed at each other, making fun of the irony of us both sobbing at the same's never happened's either one or the other, you know, and never the Twain shall meet....until that morning.

Eventually our conversation moved to safer ground.

Alice: "We need to get hammered."
Me: "Nah we don't, we need to do something Thelma and Louise-ish. Oh, I know! Let's bugger off up the coast for the night and stay at the orchard."
Alice: "That sounds cool...but without the gun..."
Me: "Or the driving off the cliff bit..."
Alice: "I'll bring the scarves."
Me: "I'll see what I can do about getting hold of Brad Pitt."

So, after organising offspring and packing an overnight bag, she picked me up later that afternoon.

The scarves were a no-show...but then so was Brad Pitt. We took Barnaby instead, besides we knew he wasn't going to have sex with either of us, let alone steal any money. There was no money to steal from me, but that went way over my head at the time.

We stopped on our way up the coast to have dinner at a restaurant that looked out over the sea, it was beautifully relaxing and just what we needed. We enjoyed our time there so much, we didn't get up to my sister's until sometime around 9pm.

The fact that I couldn't really see where we were going in the dark didn't help. I had Alice driving up and down the road looking for a sign that wasn't even there because we'd not gone down the lane far enough. She eventually retorted..."Bloody hell, I'll be blogging about THIS tomorrow! *snort*" In reality she doesn't have a blog, but I guess she's heard me say that so often she felt the need to repeat it at the time. She loves me really, just sometimes I can make it difficult for her lol.

Alice has never met my older sister before. We walked in to find my sister, half tipsy, (another) glass of wine in her hand, her step-daughter straightening her hair, eyes streaming and constantly blowing her nose. Hayfever must be a bitch when you're living on an orchard.

My sister has no 'natural' children of her own. She has three adult step-children, one of which has produced two gorgeous grandchildren. The bonus of the evening was that all were present. I don't often refer to them as her far as I'm concerned they're her children just as much as her husband's...they've been a big part of her life for over 17 years now. It is obvious the mutual love and respect they share is deep, and I was proud to introduce them all to one of my closest friends.

It was a warm fuzzy evening with a lot of laughs and couldn't have been a better tonic. God, how I love that my sister and her husband have such a haven for me to run to at times. If truth be told, it wouldn't matter a jot if they had such an oasis or not....being able to spend time with them has always made me feel calm and refreshed afterwards. It's like they balance my soul.

We went for a walk through the orchard the next day....the apples were ready for picking....we picked some ourselves to bring home. I was admonished once again for leaving Barnaby back at the house....Alice seems to have taken on the role of his advocate...she refers to Jo as "Barnaby's Mum" lol.

We slept in the shipping containers I've shown photos of on here before...well set up, bathroom facilities included (still no hot water as yet). That night it was a little chilly, and we'd gone to bed pretty well covered up. Body heat being the wondrous thing it is....I woke up the following morning and spied Al's pjs on the floor.

Me: "Please don't tell me you're naked in bed beside me"
Alice: *rolling over sleepily* "What time do they bring in breakfast?"
Me: "Here we are, two newly single women....Is this what it's come to?" *sigh*

Ah well, what's life if you can't get that comfortable and intimate with your breast friend?

(Barnaby and Alice's "Lambie")

Friday, March 03, 2006

Making New Friends Can Be Tough

A few months ago I made a new friend...his name is Mark.

Mark comes to me courtesy of MasterCard.

Mark rings me each month for a lovely chat....this always consists of "If you could just put the minimum amount of $[blah] on it, you'll be ok until next month".

See how much he cares for me?


Today I made another new friend....his name is Daniel.

Daniel has become very attached to my home. He is a man of many hats. He brings gifts. He shuffles things around to make good things happen for me. And because I think he's so wonderful, I introduced him to my mate Mark.

Daniel comes to me courtesy of my local banking branch.

I now have a new fixed interest rate on my mortgage, AND a very cheerful Mark at the same time.

I think that means I've just lost Mark's friendship...he will be out there searching around making new friends I suppose.

I have not made any friends, new or old, at the Inland Revenue Department....yet.

But...I'm wearing them has become my mission to force my friendship on them.

Could be a tough not hold my breath on this one.
Thursday, March 02, 2006

Behind the Screen

How could I possibly disappear after all the support and encouragement you've shown? That would be unforgivably rude of me. Thank you all so much for your kind words, I can't tell you how much I appreciated reading your comments on my previous post. They've all helped me immensely. We really need to have some kind of party.

There are various forms of being 'done'. There's the done that applies to the roast beef being ready....the done that applies to an assignment, or job being complete...and then there's the done in relation to had enough, given up...nothing, more to come because there's nothing left to give.

I'm sure there are other varieties, but those are the only ones i can think of at the moment. It seems for the moment I'm "undone"....and not in the "I've buckled under the strain and my brain is now a gooey mass" sense...been there, done (heh) that...but in the "I have far too much to say to ever be done infinitely".

As some of you will be aware Walker and I spoke on the phone the other night and despite me bawling on and off through the conversation (sorry about that dear), I believe we're now on a comfortable footing with each other. This is a good thing of course, and I think it can only help towards the healing process. I'm feeling more at peace on the inside than I have for weeks.

Now, I wanted to address a comment that came through the other day. A comment from someone I've never heard from before. Her name apparently is "emily". I say 'apparently' because I know not where she came from or how long she's been reading about us, and as far as I was aware I'd never heard from her before. There have also been a few comments under the guise of "Anonymous".

Then last night as I was messing around in my Haloscan account, I came across Emily's comment again....or more to the point, I came across her IP address. I also found Anonymous' IP address...and blow me down if the two addresses don't match. So what? I hear you saying.....well if it was just emily and anon that matched I could understand it.

But can you imagine my shock when I realised that our 'friend' Emily has actually been reading both of us for several months now. And not only that, she appears to have several personalities...all who have their own blog. Sometimes posting comments under one non de plume, then posting a comment a day later, differrent name, but same IP address.

How IS this possible?? I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer (Heaven knows how many scars I'd have by now if that was the case), but shit, have I missed something? Can you be in different cities/states and have the same IP address each day? My ex-husband says, and I quote "That's a load of crap, they've got to have all come from the same person!"

This makes absolutely no sense at all to me....unless these three women (excluding emily and anon, which would make 5), all know each other, share coffee mornings together, using each others computers to read and comment etc. Perhaps they jet set across the country to each other?, bet their frequent flyer points are incredible numbers. Maybe I'm talking out of a hole in my butt?

And what about firewall proxies that some ISPs use? Can this be the reason behind these women having the same IP address? Would that also be the reason that some comments and emails have had very similar content, but were from different people?

Amidst Emily's comment, were the words "Noone knows who you really are". Although Walker has already focussed on this and I agree with much of what he's this instance I'm wondering if perhaps she's right. As much as it pains me to admit it, and quite frankly I'd rather cut my leg off without anaestethic, than say that someone who has such an unsavoury opinion is we really know who we're mingling with on here?

We come here to write because for the most part we enjoy writing...we vent...purging our thoughts and feelings...some comical, some not so comical...and for whatever the reason, the bottom line is that we're sharing parts of our lives with the rest of the world.

We show ourselves on here to be fun loving, miserable, happy, sexy, angry, passionate...whatever...the list goes on and on. We open ourselves up raw to you on occasion, giving out our inner most thoughts. We support each other in times of need....we cry and hurt when you're hurting....and we are jubilant and join in the party when something wonderful has happened and we celebrate together.

But...and this is in no way a criticism of any's just the way it is...we don't tell you about each and every second of our lives. There is much that can be read between the lines, and besides the writing that hits you between the eyes like a sledgehammer...the rest is like a jigsaw puzzle of who we are and how we live. Some of it can often leave us assuming the possibilities of what's REALLY gone on behind the scenes.

I've lost count of the amount of times I wish I was looking through your house windows so I could get the entire picture. I'm a peeping tom in the making, I am. Be relieved that I live all the way down here in New Zealand.....I'd be arrested for stalking....doing drive-bys and taking photos of you all at some stage. Hey, I never said I would be good at it...just that I have the capability. I certainly have the desire anyway.

We are a community of our own...a BIG that has every type of personality in it's membership....every race, religion, name it...our community has it. That's pretty damn special my friends. Not everyone out there in the world can say that about those they mix with on a daily basis.

We can do this, because we are diverse beings and have many facets to our make up. I love that about us....and will continue to love it. The Emilys and Anonymous' of this world will come along and do their best to upset the apple cart....make us think they are caring, supportive friends with one persona...then switch personalities and become aggressive or obnoxious but do it in hiding. They are nothing but cowards hiding behind insecurities, taking pleasure in causing mayhem.

Emily, Anonymous or whatever the hell you want to call yourself...may I suggest you take all your personalities and have a party of your own? Because you are no longer welcome at mine. Do not come here and comment in any manner....we KNOW who you are. And besides feeling the shock and disbelief of our discovery last night, I for not want to know you anymore.

The rest of you I'm hoping will stick around, because despite what I've said previously, you've probably noticed I still have plenty to say.

And yes, I'm aware I look like I've several different personalities myself at the moment...each post showing a different mood swing...I'm hoping to settle back into my old skin sometime soon. Thanks again for listening.