Many single mums could not live without their trusty vibrator. And many women in enduring relationships are the same. What is it that a power-packed battery-charged mechanic device can do that a humble man can't?
Vibrators are consistent. They are ready, erect, waiting for some attention whenever you feel the need. They can come in various speeds, patterned vibrations, swirl around, change the intensity and they know exactly how you like it because you are in CONTROL!! And if they become slow and sluggish, it's just a question of replacing the batteries. They don't answer their phone midway, they don't cum before you do, they don't get confused about which spot turns you on more and you can put them safely in a drawer without being nagged, expected to swallow or asked to get their cigarettes. Quite simply, they know your body as well as you do, because you've showed it the ways without an ego getting in the way.
It's interesting how these latex vibrating love sticks get used. Most are used in solitude, but some are used to spice up a sex life. Cyber sex brings vibrators into the fore with the visual simulation and stimulation that can be enjoyed by both parties. They can be used orally, vaginally or anally (but not at the same time!) giving different sensations. It's also interesting about how many women actually use their vibrators to 'finish themselves off' after having sex with their partner. What's with that? Is that the male ego getting in the way, or have they not explored each other enough to know how to intensify each other's orgasmic pleasure? Does she wait for him to go to sleep, secretly slip it in and release her pleasure whispering her screams? Or does she walk into the bathroom to find her 'finish me off' friend while bending over the bathroom sink as he has the television blaring watching the Footy Show? Does he lie there and watch wishing that it was him that could get her to that state of total ecstasy and not her dildo?
All single mums would agree that vibrators are what we need to get a sexual release. But they don't replace the intimacy of human touch, the sensual whispers in the ear and the full body experience that 'making love' brings. They aren't warm to the touch, they don't bring the romance, they don't give us back rubs and they can't give us a hug. So, in a sense, we are jealous of those who have a man on tap, lying next to them each time they go to sleep, but then I guess they are jealous of us for having the bed to ourselves and no one nagging us to turn off the light when we're finishing off a riveting chapter.
So we 'hail' the vibrator for giving us pleasure when a man cannot be there or come to the party. Our children thank our vibrators too, because if it weren't for the artificial cocks in this world, they would have an angry, upset, stressed out mum to contend with every day. They would have no idea why we're over-reacting to every event and psychologists would get paid good money to discover that our kids would be blaming themselves for their over-worked, under-played mum's outbursts.
Thank you vibrator, for keeping the peace!
Thursday, 29 September 2011
Wednesday, 28 September 2011
Defining Selfishness
Why is it deemed that all men are selfish bastards? Because it feels right? Because you can never get them to do exactly what you want to do without any animosity? What is it?
I have a male friend who has a number of rules he lives by. The first one is everyone ultimately does something to satisfy themselves (or something to that effect). Essentially saying everyone has a selfish reason for doing absolutely anything. Some would defend that, and say, but if I give money to charity, I'm not getting anything out of it.. Aah, but you are! You are satisfying your own guilty pleasures by offsetting it onto the less fortunate, and this makes you feel better about yourself and any guilty act you may have done. It's like you've gone to confession, and giving money to the needy is your penance. How many times have you given to charity, and instantly walked away feeling better about yourself? And in most cases, when you give to charity, it's a tax deduction, so you're getting that as a benefit too.
So, if this rule applies to all, it's not only men who are selfish bastards, but women too. I just think men are more upfront about it, and women are more sneaky about it.
So, say a man and a woman are making love (she says 'making love', he says 'getting a root'). Sex is on equal terms of neediness. She wants to be kissed and cuddled, lovingly touched and worked on to become essentially 'lubricated' for the event. He hears that the opportunity will happen, and he's instantly hard. He wants to be sucked, to be able to thrust, to wrap his mouth around her breasts. She wants it to be slow, seductive and be in touch with her mind as well as her body. Somewhere along the line, they are both disappointed. But they are both being selfish. But a true man (ahem, I mean a gentleman) will actually be turned on by seeing his woman physically excited about the prospect of love making, not so much to ejaculate, but intensify the experience with a mind, body and soul experience. He will embrace the journey of the love making, and not participate in the final finale. And for some, the final finale doesn't even matter, as long as their woman orgasms wildly. Again, they are both being selfish, but this time in tune with each other. Then sometimes, a woman will feel like she wasn't attractive enough for her man to climax, even though he was thoroughly turned on by their love making session, and for her selfish reasons, she feels defeated, like she hadn't done her job properly. Can you see what I mean, that we all do things for our own selfish needs?
Many of those in the service industry - doctors, nurses, counsellors, charity workers, gardeners, cleaners, tradespeople, etc, they are the most needy of all. They need to help others to make them feel good about themselves. They are dependent on being depended on. If they have no one to look after or care for, then they feel lost, lonely and mentally destroyed. It's their joy in life knowing that they are essentially wanted and needed. They are the ones who tend to keep their kids staying at home until they are thirty-five. They are the ones who will be around at your house fixing a leaky tap when you don't know how to do it yourself. They are the ones who, despite their own dilemmas, will reach out and help at a moment's notice. They are the ones who have pets. They are the angels in this world. But they too are selfish, because they need to be needed.
Does selfish need to be a negative word? Or do we need to have a better understanding of compromise? Are those who can't compromise the most selfish, in the most negative form, of them all? I would think so. Compromise and communication is the healthiest quality in any relationship. But so many things have to be overturned first before 'compromise' can come into the equation. People need to understand the difference between attacking and defending. That events happen because they happen, not because it was intentionally created to be an inconvenience to another. Some people can't comprehend that what happens isn't a direct response to making their life a living hell, it's about fitting in with changing circumstances. It's what life does.
It's the ones who don't serve others - salespeople, creative artists in any form, 'suits', etc - those who deal with people for their desires not their needs, are the one's less likely to compromise. They are the hard and fast thrusters of this world, the ones who want the materialism and power, they are the ones who will pay for someone to be by their sick mother at her death bed. But some of these people, may have a 'service' attribute behind them and rise to the occasion when they are needed.
So selfishness, is it a good thing? In reality, it what makes us happy. If getting what we want helps us become more confident because we are happy, then it has to be a good thing. But it can only be good if there is mutual compromise and communication.
I have a male friend who has a number of rules he lives by. The first one is everyone ultimately does something to satisfy themselves (or something to that effect). Essentially saying everyone has a selfish reason for doing absolutely anything. Some would defend that, and say, but if I give money to charity, I'm not getting anything out of it.. Aah, but you are! You are satisfying your own guilty pleasures by offsetting it onto the less fortunate, and this makes you feel better about yourself and any guilty act you may have done. It's like you've gone to confession, and giving money to the needy is your penance. How many times have you given to charity, and instantly walked away feeling better about yourself? And in most cases, when you give to charity, it's a tax deduction, so you're getting that as a benefit too.
So, if this rule applies to all, it's not only men who are selfish bastards, but women too. I just think men are more upfront about it, and women are more sneaky about it.
So, say a man and a woman are making love (she says 'making love', he says 'getting a root'). Sex is on equal terms of neediness. She wants to be kissed and cuddled, lovingly touched and worked on to become essentially 'lubricated' for the event. He hears that the opportunity will happen, and he's instantly hard. He wants to be sucked, to be able to thrust, to wrap his mouth around her breasts. She wants it to be slow, seductive and be in touch with her mind as well as her body. Somewhere along the line, they are both disappointed. But they are both being selfish. But a true man (ahem, I mean a gentleman) will actually be turned on by seeing his woman physically excited about the prospect of love making, not so much to ejaculate, but intensify the experience with a mind, body and soul experience. He will embrace the journey of the love making, and not participate in the final finale. And for some, the final finale doesn't even matter, as long as their woman orgasms wildly. Again, they are both being selfish, but this time in tune with each other. Then sometimes, a woman will feel like she wasn't attractive enough for her man to climax, even though he was thoroughly turned on by their love making session, and for her selfish reasons, she feels defeated, like she hadn't done her job properly. Can you see what I mean, that we all do things for our own selfish needs?
Many of those in the service industry - doctors, nurses, counsellors, charity workers, gardeners, cleaners, tradespeople, etc, they are the most needy of all. They need to help others to make them feel good about themselves. They are dependent on being depended on. If they have no one to look after or care for, then they feel lost, lonely and mentally destroyed. It's their joy in life knowing that they are essentially wanted and needed. They are the ones who tend to keep their kids staying at home until they are thirty-five. They are the ones who will be around at your house fixing a leaky tap when you don't know how to do it yourself. They are the ones who, despite their own dilemmas, will reach out and help at a moment's notice. They are the ones who have pets. They are the angels in this world. But they too are selfish, because they need to be needed.
Does selfish need to be a negative word? Or do we need to have a better understanding of compromise? Are those who can't compromise the most selfish, in the most negative form, of them all? I would think so. Compromise and communication is the healthiest quality in any relationship. But so many things have to be overturned first before 'compromise' can come into the equation. People need to understand the difference between attacking and defending. That events happen because they happen, not because it was intentionally created to be an inconvenience to another. Some people can't comprehend that what happens isn't a direct response to making their life a living hell, it's about fitting in with changing circumstances. It's what life does.
It's the ones who don't serve others - salespeople, creative artists in any form, 'suits', etc - those who deal with people for their desires not their needs, are the one's less likely to compromise. They are the hard and fast thrusters of this world, the ones who want the materialism and power, they are the ones who will pay for someone to be by their sick mother at her death bed. But some of these people, may have a 'service' attribute behind them and rise to the occasion when they are needed.
So selfishness, is it a good thing? In reality, it what makes us happy. If getting what we want helps us become more confident because we are happy, then it has to be a good thing. But it can only be good if there is mutual compromise and communication.
Saturday, 24 September 2011
Girls Nite Out
The pub life really ain't for me - full of sleazy regulars who have a permanent seat at the bar and their teeth half falling out, busty fifty year old women desperate to find a young toy boy to play with for the night, mates having a beer eyeing up girls mirroring the blokes but with their Bacardi Breezers in the corner. It's quite a social spectacle to see how us primates interact with a little dutch courage.
Last night, I went out with three girlfriends for dinner (a very slow, poorly serviced dinner) where we talked about my new possibilities, my 40 something year old friend's last set up with another 40 something year old who wore dentures and how she couldn't possibly go to be with a man who put his teeth in a jar each night, my other friend's new sense of freedom as her husband packed his bags to work interstate for a month, and the latecomer's recent trip to Fiji. After our over-priced pasta, we walked into the pub to see what was going on. A couple of my friends 'scabbed' a cigarette from some other girls, but insisted on paying $2 a cigarette for the privilege due to the expense of them. The other girls were beyond interesting. A 26 year old lawyer who was intrigued by the youthfulness of my late 30s friends' skin (one actually over the 40 mark) and how she had an appointment to get Botox in the near future due to a deep frown mark between her eyebrows. We tried to convince her that she needed to stay natural, but she wasn't keen. Admittedly, for a 26 year old, she looked more our age than we did ourselves. But you could see in her eyes that she was a workaholic, constantly beaten (not physically, but mentally) in a male dominated field and there was a certain sadness because no male accepted her for who she was, they were essentially frightened of her 'status,' which made her a very lonely lady. Her friend, on the other hand, was more Plain Jane to look at, but was a school teacher and her personality more bubbly.
My 40 something year old friend, texted me to see the eye-candy on the next table. She was there to pick up and I wasn't interested, being the only other single mum in our group. My lack of interest was due to the fact that we were outside with the smokers (something that I can't stand to be locking lips with), and the fact that everyone on the deck had been their most the afternoon sucking on the end of a beer bottle like it was their security blanket. We discovered that these men were in fact 23 year old tradies - carpenters mostly, doing their standard Saturday afternoon fare - watching the footy and standing around guzzling a few beers. There were smiles exchanged, and most of them had a sense of cuteness you could almost take home, but once their mouths opened, the Aussie ockerness came out with alcoholic slurs and conversations or more so debates, that seemed to be picked up from last week, yesterday or even from the last hour, generally about footy. Hmmm... that's why I stay away from the pub. I wouldn't have a clue who was playing, how the season went and who was bonking who's girlfriend off the field and none of it interested me. But the question was asked 'How can you live in Melbourne and not be interested in football?' Well, that is the question that makes me think more that this place ain't for me...
So, after two sauv blancs, losing a measly dollar on the pokies and some intense observations, I took myself home to the boys who love me and my comfy cosy bed. I heard from my American lover briefly, who had a terrible night at work and I wished I was in a better place to be there for him. I just know where my heart is. But, at the same time, it was good to see what I'm missing out on every Saturday night really isn't anything to be missing out on at all.
Last night, I went out with three girlfriends for dinner (a very slow, poorly serviced dinner) where we talked about my new possibilities, my 40 something year old friend's last set up with another 40 something year old who wore dentures and how she couldn't possibly go to be with a man who put his teeth in a jar each night, my other friend's new sense of freedom as her husband packed his bags to work interstate for a month, and the latecomer's recent trip to Fiji. After our over-priced pasta, we walked into the pub to see what was going on. A couple of my friends 'scabbed' a cigarette from some other girls, but insisted on paying $2 a cigarette for the privilege due to the expense of them. The other girls were beyond interesting. A 26 year old lawyer who was intrigued by the youthfulness of my late 30s friends' skin (one actually over the 40 mark) and how she had an appointment to get Botox in the near future due to a deep frown mark between her eyebrows. We tried to convince her that she needed to stay natural, but she wasn't keen. Admittedly, for a 26 year old, she looked more our age than we did ourselves. But you could see in her eyes that she was a workaholic, constantly beaten (not physically, but mentally) in a male dominated field and there was a certain sadness because no male accepted her for who she was, they were essentially frightened of her 'status,' which made her a very lonely lady. Her friend, on the other hand, was more Plain Jane to look at, but was a school teacher and her personality more bubbly.
My 40 something year old friend, texted me to see the eye-candy on the next table. She was there to pick up and I wasn't interested, being the only other single mum in our group. My lack of interest was due to the fact that we were outside with the smokers (something that I can't stand to be locking lips with), and the fact that everyone on the deck had been their most the afternoon sucking on the end of a beer bottle like it was their security blanket. We discovered that these men were in fact 23 year old tradies - carpenters mostly, doing their standard Saturday afternoon fare - watching the footy and standing around guzzling a few beers. There were smiles exchanged, and most of them had a sense of cuteness you could almost take home, but once their mouths opened, the Aussie ockerness came out with alcoholic slurs and conversations or more so debates, that seemed to be picked up from last week, yesterday or even from the last hour, generally about footy. Hmmm... that's why I stay away from the pub. I wouldn't have a clue who was playing, how the season went and who was bonking who's girlfriend off the field and none of it interested me. But the question was asked 'How can you live in Melbourne and not be interested in football?' Well, that is the question that makes me think more that this place ain't for me...
So, after two sauv blancs, losing a measly dollar on the pokies and some intense observations, I took myself home to the boys who love me and my comfy cosy bed. I heard from my American lover briefly, who had a terrible night at work and I wished I was in a better place to be there for him. I just know where my heart is. But, at the same time, it was good to see what I'm missing out on every Saturday night really isn't anything to be missing out on at all.
Friday, 23 September 2011
Seeing through the Obstacles to Find the Clarity
Why is it so hard to make a decision sometimes? Is it the conscious effort to appease everyone? Is it that you're not accepting that things need to change? Is it the unknown? Is it holding onto the memories? I'm not talking about the everyday decisions, like do I go to the shops now before it starts raining, or tie it into picking the kids up from school, I'm talking about the huge monumental life changing decisions that effectively change the path that you are either stagnant on or most likely going backwards on.
But most find, once they have made that decision to make the change, the universe opens up, embraces that change, and life start to work for you, instead of against you.
So what are the obstacles that keep you on the path of torture and sorrow? Are they materialistic things - cars, a house, jewellery, collectables, shoes - things that show status and power, but don't necessarily keep us happy? Are they people - people making you feel guilty about how you live your life because it a) doesn't include them, b) goes against how they would live their life, c) or a big dollop of judgement? Are they events that you can't control - a child with a disorder or illness, a government that can't assist you, a natural disaster? You need to pin point all the obstacles in your life that stop you from moving on with your life and finding happiness.
It may sound simple, but I know it's not. And most of us get torn between being happy with the 'known' and scared about the 'unknown' - the better the devil you know scenario. And I hear it time and time again in my day job - people staying with each other for 30 or more years for the sake of the children, for the sake of knowing what each day will be like (sad and uneventful), for the terror of not knowing what's on the other side. And most have heard horror stories of bitter divorces, children not wanting to be with one parent over the other, the joys of continuing a parenting relationship with the person that they consciously didn't want to be with any more, and think it's all too hard.
But the cleansing is so much more rewarding. Lifting the baggage off your shoulders, realising and releasing the tension that other person/people put on you, finding out who you are as an individual again, living without the constant animosity and burden of trying to appease the other person while not considering your own thoughts and desires. And most the time we don't realise how much pain the person or things actually affect our own health. For instance, the day my husband went away to work I was 100kgs, riddled with years of dermatitis on my right hand, so much so that putting it in dish-water would crack my skin on my hand that it bled, stung and it hurt so much I struggled to bend my fingers, the tension in my shoulders and neck was excruciating that it caused headaches and constant trips to the osteopath, and I thought it was all to do with my workload, being a mum and getting older. But once he left, it all went away... I lost 22kgs in 6 months, my dermatitis disappeared and my headaches and my neck/shoulder pain left. Who would know that one person could cause so much physical damage through mental and emotional means? And my son also benefited from him leaving, never to wet the bed again.
It was our start to a happily life for me and my boys, but we know more needs to be done. The decision has been made and the clarity is coming. We can feel it, it's now just time. We've identified the obstacles and we're doing what we can to either remove them or put them to the side so we can find the path to brighter future. It's understanding who has the control in your life.
If I can do it, you can too... do it for yourself, your kids and your wellbeing.
But most find, once they have made that decision to make the change, the universe opens up, embraces that change, and life start to work for you, instead of against you.
So what are the obstacles that keep you on the path of torture and sorrow? Are they materialistic things - cars, a house, jewellery, collectables, shoes - things that show status and power, but don't necessarily keep us happy? Are they people - people making you feel guilty about how you live your life because it a) doesn't include them, b) goes against how they would live their life, c) or a big dollop of judgement? Are they events that you can't control - a child with a disorder or illness, a government that can't assist you, a natural disaster? You need to pin point all the obstacles in your life that stop you from moving on with your life and finding happiness.
It may sound simple, but I know it's not. And most of us get torn between being happy with the 'known' and scared about the 'unknown' - the better the devil you know scenario. And I hear it time and time again in my day job - people staying with each other for 30 or more years for the sake of the children, for the sake of knowing what each day will be like (sad and uneventful), for the terror of not knowing what's on the other side. And most have heard horror stories of bitter divorces, children not wanting to be with one parent over the other, the joys of continuing a parenting relationship with the person that they consciously didn't want to be with any more, and think it's all too hard.
But the cleansing is so much more rewarding. Lifting the baggage off your shoulders, realising and releasing the tension that other person/people put on you, finding out who you are as an individual again, living without the constant animosity and burden of trying to appease the other person while not considering your own thoughts and desires. And most the time we don't realise how much pain the person or things actually affect our own health. For instance, the day my husband went away to work I was 100kgs, riddled with years of dermatitis on my right hand, so much so that putting it in dish-water would crack my skin on my hand that it bled, stung and it hurt so much I struggled to bend my fingers, the tension in my shoulders and neck was excruciating that it caused headaches and constant trips to the osteopath, and I thought it was all to do with my workload, being a mum and getting older. But once he left, it all went away... I lost 22kgs in 6 months, my dermatitis disappeared and my headaches and my neck/shoulder pain left. Who would know that one person could cause so much physical damage through mental and emotional means? And my son also benefited from him leaving, never to wet the bed again.
It was our start to a happily life for me and my boys, but we know more needs to be done. The decision has been made and the clarity is coming. We can feel it, it's now just time. We've identified the obstacles and we're doing what we can to either remove them or put them to the side so we can find the path to brighter future. It's understanding who has the control in your life.
If I can do it, you can too... do it for yourself, your kids and your wellbeing.
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
How Happiness and Inspiration Rubs Off!
Isn't it amazing how when you meet someone or see someone you already know, who is just bubbling with personality, you just have to feel warm, excited, rejuvenated and happy? Their whole demeanour is infectious and you want to just feel inspired and part of their whole experience.
After a big day yesterday, working till 10.30pm and not inspired to finish the last 5 properties I had to write, I set my alarm for 5.15am to finish them before the next working day began. My American lover, at the same time, was working a 7pm-7am shift (my time 11am-11pm), but realised half way through it, that he had to chair a meeting the next day (or really, that day), a 2 hour drive away that he thought started at 1pm, but in fact started at 9am, essentially meaning that he had to finish a 12 hour-shift, jump in the car and drive like a maniac on no sleep with no time to eat or catch some caffeine to get there.
He called me as he left, feeling like he won't make the 2 hour drive, as he had no chance to sleep throughout his busy shift (somedays he can catch 15 minutes here or there). I was worried about his well-being, and he was talking that if he had a sleep-start, he knows he will just tumble off the road with dramatic force at 80 miles an hour. With talk like that, my worry just intensifies. Our conversation kept getting cut off as he drove, and I knew he was conscious that I needed my sleep for my early start, but I told him that if he needs someone to talk to while driving to keep him awake, just call.
I woke up at 5.15am and hadn't heard from him over the last 6 hours. I was still exhausted and uninspired to do anything. But I had to get into it, so I dragged myself off to my computer and started to be creative. Just as I finished 4 of the 5 properties, he calls me as excited as ever.
He was on this terrific caffeine high just leaving the meeting, driving back to work to do a reduced shift of four hours, that started at 9pm. It had just turned 3.30pm his time, so he should be back at 5.30pm to get a few hours catch up sleep. But he was so excited about so many things he wanted to tell me. He even, at some stage, managed to read 17 pages of my short story to give me some valid criticism and wanted to go over them with me while he was driving. But most of all, he wanted me to keep him awake. I had to get my boys ready for school, and he called just as I usually start the morning routine. But I managed to get them breakfast, and they were self-sufficient getting dressed and getting their lunch-boxes ready, so I kept talking to him, keeping him going, as he gave me the occasional countdown of how many miles to go - 115 miles, 76 miles, 40 miles, just 10 minutes to go.
He told me jokes, even joked about having a car accident so he could get a ride back to the hospital in the back of an ambulance so he could sleep! He even made me laugh out loud! He showed me the rain falling on the windscreen and the barren but most enchanting drive along the midland highway - a drive that I've done plenty of times myself, a drive that just feels like home to me. He was amazing, an inspiration in so many ways. To have been awake working a straight 24 hours or more, and still uplifting, just puts my mood right up there with his.
He managed to get back to his hotel room a little before 6pm his time, enough to catch 2 hours sleep before having to start again. For me, he has just put a beaming smile on my face, one that hopefully I can pay it forward to others during my day. Something that I know I do, when I'm at my happiest.
After a big day yesterday, working till 10.30pm and not inspired to finish the last 5 properties I had to write, I set my alarm for 5.15am to finish them before the next working day began. My American lover, at the same time, was working a 7pm-7am shift (my time 11am-11pm), but realised half way through it, that he had to chair a meeting the next day (or really, that day), a 2 hour drive away that he thought started at 1pm, but in fact started at 9am, essentially meaning that he had to finish a 12 hour-shift, jump in the car and drive like a maniac on no sleep with no time to eat or catch some caffeine to get there.
He called me as he left, feeling like he won't make the 2 hour drive, as he had no chance to sleep throughout his busy shift (somedays he can catch 15 minutes here or there). I was worried about his well-being, and he was talking that if he had a sleep-start, he knows he will just tumble off the road with dramatic force at 80 miles an hour. With talk like that, my worry just intensifies. Our conversation kept getting cut off as he drove, and I knew he was conscious that I needed my sleep for my early start, but I told him that if he needs someone to talk to while driving to keep him awake, just call.
I woke up at 5.15am and hadn't heard from him over the last 6 hours. I was still exhausted and uninspired to do anything. But I had to get into it, so I dragged myself off to my computer and started to be creative. Just as I finished 4 of the 5 properties, he calls me as excited as ever.
He was on this terrific caffeine high just leaving the meeting, driving back to work to do a reduced shift of four hours, that started at 9pm. It had just turned 3.30pm his time, so he should be back at 5.30pm to get a few hours catch up sleep. But he was so excited about so many things he wanted to tell me. He even, at some stage, managed to read 17 pages of my short story to give me some valid criticism and wanted to go over them with me while he was driving. But most of all, he wanted me to keep him awake. I had to get my boys ready for school, and he called just as I usually start the morning routine. But I managed to get them breakfast, and they were self-sufficient getting dressed and getting their lunch-boxes ready, so I kept talking to him, keeping him going, as he gave me the occasional countdown of how many miles to go - 115 miles, 76 miles, 40 miles, just 10 minutes to go.
He told me jokes, even joked about having a car accident so he could get a ride back to the hospital in the back of an ambulance so he could sleep! He even made me laugh out loud! He showed me the rain falling on the windscreen and the barren but most enchanting drive along the midland highway - a drive that I've done plenty of times myself, a drive that just feels like home to me. He was amazing, an inspiration in so many ways. To have been awake working a straight 24 hours or more, and still uplifting, just puts my mood right up there with his.
He managed to get back to his hotel room a little before 6pm his time, enough to catch 2 hours sleep before having to start again. For me, he has just put a beaming smile on my face, one that hopefully I can pay it forward to others during my day. Something that I know I do, when I'm at my happiest.
Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Where Do We Find Available Men These Days?
As our single parent lives revolve around what our kids do, how on earth can we find our next mate?
With sexual harassment laws essentially boycotting the concept of finding love at work, is it only on the edges of the soccer field watching his kid attempt to kick the ball only to trip over his shoelaces into a soaking wad of mud, do we see a sensitive caring person from afar with no obvious female attachment?
Or maybe he's in a coffee shop, ordering a strong quad-espresso latte so he can cope with his 12 hour long graveyard shift in the local ER (you can tell this, as he's wearing his scrubs) and you bump into him as you both reach for a Sweet-and-Lo at the same time, looking up at each other laughing and smiling? Only to find yourself in the ER later that night with unexplainable heart palpitations from your chance meeting.
Maybe you met him as a client of a client, and saw him jogging when you were walking with your kids to school, and he remembered your name? Only for you to remember that he was a local policeman, and you need to get an affidavit signed, again and again, until one day, he happens to be there.
Or possibly you meet him at a party your married friends invite you to, only to have one single male there as well, knowing full well that it was a set up, or worse, your married friend's ex-husband!!
Then again, do we meet him on a Qantas flight serving us peanuts and small bottles of wine, only to make the mischievous 'Mile High Club' in the rest room, with turbulence adding to the action?
Or is he the next tradesman to come knocking on your door to do your gardening, fix those damn low voltage lights with their over-heated transformers or get your heating working again (or just get you 'heated' up again!)?
Somehow, when you least expect it, someone will either rescue you, smile at you, inconspicuously stalk you or just ask you out, and you're life will for that split second feel lighter and happier, because somebody noticed you, and wants to get to know you a little more. You feel good, because it's not about the kids, it's about you this time. Someone wants to get to know YOU!! You've got to say 'Yes' to him for at least trying! Who knows how your luck will turn out :)
With sexual harassment laws essentially boycotting the concept of finding love at work, is it only on the edges of the soccer field watching his kid attempt to kick the ball only to trip over his shoelaces into a soaking wad of mud, do we see a sensitive caring person from afar with no obvious female attachment?
Or maybe he's in a coffee shop, ordering a strong quad-espresso latte so he can cope with his 12 hour long graveyard shift in the local ER (you can tell this, as he's wearing his scrubs) and you bump into him as you both reach for a Sweet-and-Lo at the same time, looking up at each other laughing and smiling? Only to find yourself in the ER later that night with unexplainable heart palpitations from your chance meeting.
Maybe you met him as a client of a client, and saw him jogging when you were walking with your kids to school, and he remembered your name? Only for you to remember that he was a local policeman, and you need to get an affidavit signed, again and again, until one day, he happens to be there.
Or possibly you meet him at a party your married friends invite you to, only to have one single male there as well, knowing full well that it was a set up, or worse, your married friend's ex-husband!!
Then again, do we meet him on a Qantas flight serving us peanuts and small bottles of wine, only to make the mischievous 'Mile High Club' in the rest room, with turbulence adding to the action?
Or is he the next tradesman to come knocking on your door to do your gardening, fix those damn low voltage lights with their over-heated transformers or get your heating working again (or just get you 'heated' up again!)?
Somehow, when you least expect it, someone will either rescue you, smile at you, inconspicuously stalk you or just ask you out, and you're life will for that split second feel lighter and happier, because somebody noticed you, and wants to get to know you a little more. You feel good, because it's not about the kids, it's about you this time. Someone wants to get to know YOU!! You've got to say 'Yes' to him for at least trying! Who knows how your luck will turn out :)
Monday, 19 September 2011
Angels coming from the most touching places
With all the heartache I've been going through through my bitter divorce, it's quite moving where help is coming from...
In the last 24 hours, I have had three people offer me something beyond what I could ever ask from them...
The first one, is my very close friend's husband, who has recently been declared a bankrupt, offered to lend me some money to get me through this tough time. The second one, is a mother from school, who I rarely speak to in length, but I've known since her daughter and my son were at family day care together when they were two years old. She has had two bouts of breast cancer and a brain tumour and is currently in remission. She offered to help me with any packing, looking after the boys, anything to make life a little easier. The third touching help, was my beautiful friend in Queensland, who's husband is a qualified lawyer but has recently lost his job in another field due to an internal investigation, and he is taking an in-depth look into the legislation to see how I can make a stand in my case. Three people who have huge events happening in their lives, one who has never even met me, and they want to help ME. It really does move me to tears, that people will shine for you when you least expect it.
I could go on about the people who are supposed to support you, and don't... but I won't. Because angels do come from the most unexpected places, and they are the ones who look after you, so if you focus on their beautiful spirits and not the ones that drag you behind, then life will turn around and be magical again. I have to believe it... believe in my angels.
In the last 24 hours, I have had three people offer me something beyond what I could ever ask from them...
The first one, is my very close friend's husband, who has recently been declared a bankrupt, offered to lend me some money to get me through this tough time. The second one, is a mother from school, who I rarely speak to in length, but I've known since her daughter and my son were at family day care together when they were two years old. She has had two bouts of breast cancer and a brain tumour and is currently in remission. She offered to help me with any packing, looking after the boys, anything to make life a little easier. The third touching help, was my beautiful friend in Queensland, who's husband is a qualified lawyer but has recently lost his job in another field due to an internal investigation, and he is taking an in-depth look into the legislation to see how I can make a stand in my case. Three people who have huge events happening in their lives, one who has never even met me, and they want to help ME. It really does move me to tears, that people will shine for you when you least expect it.
I could go on about the people who are supposed to support you, and don't... but I won't. Because angels do come from the most unexpected places, and they are the ones who look after you, so if you focus on their beautiful spirits and not the ones that drag you behind, then life will turn around and be magical again. I have to believe it... believe in my angels.
Sunday, 18 September 2011
A funny drunken story from a single mum!
I popped in to a friend's house today while she was having a BBQ with her Mum, Aunt and Nanna, whom I'd never met before, but they welcomed me with open arms. The Aunt told a story that will stay with me for a while...
All she remembers is having two shots of tequila... the rest is what was told to her.
She found herself at Crown Casino and welcomed herself into the Members Bar. She was loud and happy and stayed for a while chatting to members. Soon enough, she was given a generous donation from Crown to leave the Members Bar, as she was not a member, with an escort from security. As she stepped out, she saw a man in a wheelchair, who wasn't altogether there - a victim of a stroke with a slight physically impairment, she thinks. She thought she would rescue him from a crowd of people and take him to another bar, where he would have more fun, not really knowing if he had anyone with him. She had a fabby time, talking to him and a few other men who could see that she was a two-pot screamer. Men were attracted by her confidence, but she had made it blatantly obvious that she wouldn't be having sex with anyone that night because her vagina got blown off in the war. But men kept huddling around her, listening to her stories, wanting to find out more.
Eventually, she made her way to another section of the casino, where a staff member hunted her down and told her that she had left her husband in a different bar (her husband, being the man in the wheelchair). She had to explain that he wasn't hers to keep. Men kept buying her drinks, and she kept telling them she had no vagina. She then found herself in the basement where the bowling alley was. It was empty except for a cute Chinese couple down there, hugging and kissing. She felt sorry for them thinking that they had no where to go to make love, so she invited them to her house to 'live.' Her friend told her it wasn't a good idea.
By then, it was time to take her vagina-less body home to wake up very sorry and sore then next morning. She kept telling her friend that she would be OK in the morning, after all, it was only two shots of tequila. :)
Have a great week everyone :)
All she remembers is having two shots of tequila... the rest is what was told to her.
She found herself at Crown Casino and welcomed herself into the Members Bar. She was loud and happy and stayed for a while chatting to members. Soon enough, she was given a generous donation from Crown to leave the Members Bar, as she was not a member, with an escort from security. As she stepped out, she saw a man in a wheelchair, who wasn't altogether there - a victim of a stroke with a slight physically impairment, she thinks. She thought she would rescue him from a crowd of people and take him to another bar, where he would have more fun, not really knowing if he had anyone with him. She had a fabby time, talking to him and a few other men who could see that she was a two-pot screamer. Men were attracted by her confidence, but she had made it blatantly obvious that she wouldn't be having sex with anyone that night because her vagina got blown off in the war. But men kept huddling around her, listening to her stories, wanting to find out more.
Eventually, she made her way to another section of the casino, where a staff member hunted her down and told her that she had left her husband in a different bar (her husband, being the man in the wheelchair). She had to explain that he wasn't hers to keep. Men kept buying her drinks, and she kept telling them she had no vagina. She then found herself in the basement where the bowling alley was. It was empty except for a cute Chinese couple down there, hugging and kissing. She felt sorry for them thinking that they had no where to go to make love, so she invited them to her house to 'live.' Her friend told her it wasn't a good idea.
By then, it was time to take her vagina-less body home to wake up very sorry and sore then next morning. She kept telling her friend that she would be OK in the morning, after all, it was only two shots of tequila. :)
Have a great week everyone :)
Saturday, 17 September 2011
For the love of travel... and love
Traveling is something that I have found only in the last three years, but I've found it's something that desperately feeds my soul. But it's not just the act of traveling, it's the people at the other end who make it so worth while. It's the adventure, it's the spontaneity, it's the unknown and it's the knowing that I'm going to see someone I love. Seeing someone who loves me, who is my absolute happiness. But it's not only my lover in the United States, it's my best friend in London and it's my love of being one with nature and discovering new unexpected cultures. The adrenalin rush of knowing that I'm going on a journey of seeing people who are happy and excited to see me, and places that are totally different to what I have at home, is what lifts my soul and spirit to heights I've never reached before.
Some of my favourite travels have been with my boys, but others have been when I've travelled solo. Snorkelling in the Pacific with my boys off an island in Fiji watching the real life tropical aquarium under us as we float on the surface would possibly be my favourite memory of all time. And a very close second was when I first met my lover...
I hadn't heard much from him the week leading up to our first meeting as he was on a brother-bonding trip with his four brothers. At that stage, we were only starting to email each other as he felt that it might be risky, but most of our conversations happened on Skype or through the website we met each other on. So as he was without computer to communicate, I'd usually had a one line email from him once a day from his phone, as he hates to use the keyboard on his phone, but it was nice to see he was making an effort.
I'd booked a hotel in Albuquerque New Mexico, as I was coming in at 6.30pm. He was working the next morning a three hour drive away in Tucumcari the next morning, so it was decided that I would meet him in his lunch break the next day. Six hours before I left Melbourne I get an email... "Where will you be staying Monday night?" I tell him, but say that if I get a better offer, it could be changed. Three hours later another email... "I could meet you in Santa Rosa, it's a 121 mile drive from the airport for you, and just a 55 mile drive from Tucumcari for me."My heart was racing. I would be seeing him 15 hours earlier than I originally thought. I didn't care that I had never driven a car on the other side of the road, or the other side of the car. That the sun would be setting when I arrived, so most of the driving will be in the dark. That I possibly wouldn't have slept the entire 22 hour flight over. I didn't care. I just wanted to see him as soon as possible.
My flight was segmented into three flights - Melbourne to Sydney, Sydney to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Albuquerque, then approximately a 2 hour drive to Santa Rosa. At each flight change, there was another message or a chance to call him on his cell. It was so good hearing his voice on his cell. So sexy with his Texan twang. When I finally arrived in Albuquerque, it was 33 degrees Celsius (91F), a far cry from the 10 degrees (50F) I left Melbourne in. I had layered my clothes, so that I could strip off as the weather improved, but unfortunately not my shoes.
I went to the car rental place to pick up my pre-ordered car. There were three people ahead of me in the queue and nothing was going quick enough. While I was standing in line, I tossed up the idea about taking the standard compact I booked or take on the weekly special - a convertible Mustang for an extra $50 a day. I get to the counter and discover that there is a choice between a red, white or blue Mustang available - oh how American. I chose red.
I had built myself up about this trip as being the 'trip of freedom.' If the lover didn't work out, I would just cruise the open roads finding out about the culture, the people and the enchanting secrets New Mexico has to offer. So I had to look the part and the car was the perfect fit.
I put my bags in the boot (trunk!), replaced my boots with my thongs (flip-flops!), sprayed on some perfume, touched up my make-up and made sure that my red camisole looked just right with my black bra underneath and my blue jeans. I jumped into the Mustang, worked out my bearings and the instructions he gave me and set off into my happiness.
His instructions read to make my way to I-25 North and turn down I-40 West towards Santa Rosa. When I made it to the I-40 turn off, it said I-40 West took me to Gallup, and I-40 East took me to Santa Rosa. From my studious study of Google Maps before my departure, I was sure that he had made a mistake and that I should take I-40 East. I figured that if the turn-off numbers wouldn't go up, then I could just do a U-turn and make my way back. His next direction was to take the turn off at 375. I was relieved to see the numbers going up, but I was only at 190, a long way from 375.
I was high on excitement, but finding it difficult to keep myself awake on this long stretch of road. So many things to concentrate on - keeping to the right rather than the left, being bombarded by road trains and semi-trailers and sticking the driver's side to the line instead of to the left like I was used to. I didn't want to look over to see how the radio worked to keep me going, so I started singing songs to myself to make the time go quicker and keep my wits end. I reached Clines Corner, turn off 218a and my Garmin GPS said I only had 56 miles to go. But as I was going along, it seemed that each turn off was an indication of how many miles I'd traveled. Did he mean to take turn off 275 rather than 375? I guess I won't know until I get there..
I turn a corner in the road and see the glimmering lights of a town ahead. The signs suggest it's Santa Rosa, and yes, I'm at the 271 mile mark. Two miles to turn off 273, and another two miles to 275, the one I'm supposed to take. My heart is pumping a million miles an hour and the smile is not coming off my face. He asked me to call him when I was at the 273 mile mark, but my phone had no service. I just had to wing it, and I was already 45 minutes later than I suggested I would be because of the queue waiting at the car rental.
I make the turn off and see the Shell service station he wanted to meet at to the left. At least he got something right. I make a left, unsure of which side of the road I should be on, as there was no traffic in sight. I turn left, but yes on the wrong side of the median strip, only to realise after I'd done it that I better find the right side of the road before I have a head on with someone. Luckily the median strip was only 100 metres long, and I was able to duck to the right. We decided to meet outside Joseph's diner, the restaurant in front of the RV park he had parked his 5th-wheeler RV. Most would say it's a bit dodgy to come half way around the world and be meeting at 9.50pm in front of a Route 66 diner a stranger you met on the internet. But for me, that was part of the adventure. And if he wasn't right, I had my Mustang and I would shoot straight out of there faster than the Road Runner.
I crawled along old Route 66 to find Josephs and see it at that last minute to make the turn into the parking lot. I got out of the car and tried to see a man walking his dog up and down the street, as that was his plan. I couldn't see him. I didn't know what to do, as my phone still didn't have any service. I rushed into the diner to ask if they had a pay phone for me to make a call. The waitress hands me her cell phone and I called him. I told him I was out the front with my red Mustang. I thanked the waitress, completely forgetting to tip her in local customary fashion and rushed outside to wait by my retro car.
Out from the darkness, I saw a tall silhouette and a dog coming towards me. I walked up towards them, first greeting his dog, then looking at him. He gave me an almighty hug and a peck on the lips. He asked me to move into the light so he could see me better. He leant up against my Mustang with the street light above us, and said "WOW - You are so much prettier in person! How can you smell so good when you've just traveled 24 hours to get here?" Admittedly, he was so much more handsome in person than on Skype. He picked me up, lifting my toes off the ground and kissed me like lovers do. He was strong, his eyes were so magnetic, his smile just beautiful. We got in the car and drove to get something to eat, both of us too nervous to have eaten prior. He kept his hand on my knee as he drove my little fun car, looking at me with the most perfect smile.
We went back to his RV (his very luxuriously decked out RV), had our meal and a glass of champagne to celebrate our meeting. It was already late, and he had to leave at 7am to get to work in Tucumcari. We made love is ways that I'd never done before, but felt so right to be doing with him. It was magical, he was more than I could have ever imagined he would be. He was perfect.
So when I travel, it's for the love of happiness I have at the other side. For when I come home, through those Customs gates at Tullamarine Airport, all I want to do is turn around and go back again. I come home to an empty house with either my boys with me or my boys still at school, work phone calls demanding me to be somewhere within two hours of walking in the door, and the stressed monotony of home. My happiness isn't here. As no one embraces me with as much love and vitality as I get when I travel. My boys love me, and give me hugs when I return from days of travel, as I them, but it's not the same...
There is something that is so powerful when someone loves you because they choose to love you, not because they are obliged to love you as family loves you. When someone chooses to love you, they love you because of your characteristics, the warmth in your heart, because you're sexy and fun, because you're an inspiration, because you are 'you.' It makes you feel good that you are loved for who you are. Family loves you because you have a responsibility to them, because you help them, guide them, give them life and opportunity, as your parents did for you. Sometimes you just want a chance to be 'you' and not the several different hats you wear for all your responsibilities. And that's what travel does for me... I love the freedom and love it gives me, and I know that I could never be the best mum to my boys if it were ever taken away from me. They know that I come home to them being a better mum, and they know that I will give them every opportunity to have a global experience. The balance has to be right. I just know where I'd rather be.
PS Parts of this tale will be featured in my book 'On the Road to the Best Orgasm Ever.'
Some of my favourite travels have been with my boys, but others have been when I've travelled solo. Snorkelling in the Pacific with my boys off an island in Fiji watching the real life tropical aquarium under us as we float on the surface would possibly be my favourite memory of all time. And a very close second was when I first met my lover...
I hadn't heard much from him the week leading up to our first meeting as he was on a brother-bonding trip with his four brothers. At that stage, we were only starting to email each other as he felt that it might be risky, but most of our conversations happened on Skype or through the website we met each other on. So as he was without computer to communicate, I'd usually had a one line email from him once a day from his phone, as he hates to use the keyboard on his phone, but it was nice to see he was making an effort.
I'd booked a hotel in Albuquerque New Mexico, as I was coming in at 6.30pm. He was working the next morning a three hour drive away in Tucumcari the next morning, so it was decided that I would meet him in his lunch break the next day. Six hours before I left Melbourne I get an email... "Where will you be staying Monday night?" I tell him, but say that if I get a better offer, it could be changed. Three hours later another email... "I could meet you in Santa Rosa, it's a 121 mile drive from the airport for you, and just a 55 mile drive from Tucumcari for me."My heart was racing. I would be seeing him 15 hours earlier than I originally thought. I didn't care that I had never driven a car on the other side of the road, or the other side of the car. That the sun would be setting when I arrived, so most of the driving will be in the dark. That I possibly wouldn't have slept the entire 22 hour flight over. I didn't care. I just wanted to see him as soon as possible.
My flight was segmented into three flights - Melbourne to Sydney, Sydney to Los Angeles and Los Angeles to Albuquerque, then approximately a 2 hour drive to Santa Rosa. At each flight change, there was another message or a chance to call him on his cell. It was so good hearing his voice on his cell. So sexy with his Texan twang. When I finally arrived in Albuquerque, it was 33 degrees Celsius (91F), a far cry from the 10 degrees (50F) I left Melbourne in. I had layered my clothes, so that I could strip off as the weather improved, but unfortunately not my shoes.
I went to the car rental place to pick up my pre-ordered car. There were three people ahead of me in the queue and nothing was going quick enough. While I was standing in line, I tossed up the idea about taking the standard compact I booked or take on the weekly special - a convertible Mustang for an extra $50 a day. I get to the counter and discover that there is a choice between a red, white or blue Mustang available - oh how American. I chose red.
I had built myself up about this trip as being the 'trip of freedom.' If the lover didn't work out, I would just cruise the open roads finding out about the culture, the people and the enchanting secrets New Mexico has to offer. So I had to look the part and the car was the perfect fit.
I put my bags in the boot (trunk!), replaced my boots with my thongs (flip-flops!), sprayed on some perfume, touched up my make-up and made sure that my red camisole looked just right with my black bra underneath and my blue jeans. I jumped into the Mustang, worked out my bearings and the instructions he gave me and set off into my happiness.
His instructions read to make my way to I-25 North and turn down I-40 West towards Santa Rosa. When I made it to the I-40 turn off, it said I-40 West took me to Gallup, and I-40 East took me to Santa Rosa. From my studious study of Google Maps before my departure, I was sure that he had made a mistake and that I should take I-40 East. I figured that if the turn-off numbers wouldn't go up, then I could just do a U-turn and make my way back. His next direction was to take the turn off at 375. I was relieved to see the numbers going up, but I was only at 190, a long way from 375.
I was high on excitement, but finding it difficult to keep myself awake on this long stretch of road. So many things to concentrate on - keeping to the right rather than the left, being bombarded by road trains and semi-trailers and sticking the driver's side to the line instead of to the left like I was used to. I didn't want to look over to see how the radio worked to keep me going, so I started singing songs to myself to make the time go quicker and keep my wits end. I reached Clines Corner, turn off 218a and my Garmin GPS said I only had 56 miles to go. But as I was going along, it seemed that each turn off was an indication of how many miles I'd traveled. Did he mean to take turn off 275 rather than 375? I guess I won't know until I get there..
I turn a corner in the road and see the glimmering lights of a town ahead. The signs suggest it's Santa Rosa, and yes, I'm at the 271 mile mark. Two miles to turn off 273, and another two miles to 275, the one I'm supposed to take. My heart is pumping a million miles an hour and the smile is not coming off my face. He asked me to call him when I was at the 273 mile mark, but my phone had no service. I just had to wing it, and I was already 45 minutes later than I suggested I would be because of the queue waiting at the car rental.
I make the turn off and see the Shell service station he wanted to meet at to the left. At least he got something right. I make a left, unsure of which side of the road I should be on, as there was no traffic in sight. I turn left, but yes on the wrong side of the median strip, only to realise after I'd done it that I better find the right side of the road before I have a head on with someone. Luckily the median strip was only 100 metres long, and I was able to duck to the right. We decided to meet outside Joseph's diner, the restaurant in front of the RV park he had parked his 5th-wheeler RV. Most would say it's a bit dodgy to come half way around the world and be meeting at 9.50pm in front of a Route 66 diner a stranger you met on the internet. But for me, that was part of the adventure. And if he wasn't right, I had my Mustang and I would shoot straight out of there faster than the Road Runner.
I crawled along old Route 66 to find Josephs and see it at that last minute to make the turn into the parking lot. I got out of the car and tried to see a man walking his dog up and down the street, as that was his plan. I couldn't see him. I didn't know what to do, as my phone still didn't have any service. I rushed into the diner to ask if they had a pay phone for me to make a call. The waitress hands me her cell phone and I called him. I told him I was out the front with my red Mustang. I thanked the waitress, completely forgetting to tip her in local customary fashion and rushed outside to wait by my retro car.
Out from the darkness, I saw a tall silhouette and a dog coming towards me. I walked up towards them, first greeting his dog, then looking at him. He gave me an almighty hug and a peck on the lips. He asked me to move into the light so he could see me better. He leant up against my Mustang with the street light above us, and said "WOW - You are so much prettier in person! How can you smell so good when you've just traveled 24 hours to get here?" Admittedly, he was so much more handsome in person than on Skype. He picked me up, lifting my toes off the ground and kissed me like lovers do. He was strong, his eyes were so magnetic, his smile just beautiful. We got in the car and drove to get something to eat, both of us too nervous to have eaten prior. He kept his hand on my knee as he drove my little fun car, looking at me with the most perfect smile.
We went back to his RV (his very luxuriously decked out RV), had our meal and a glass of champagne to celebrate our meeting. It was already late, and he had to leave at 7am to get to work in Tucumcari. We made love is ways that I'd never done before, but felt so right to be doing with him. It was magical, he was more than I could have ever imagined he would be. He was perfect.
So when I travel, it's for the love of happiness I have at the other side. For when I come home, through those Customs gates at Tullamarine Airport, all I want to do is turn around and go back again. I come home to an empty house with either my boys with me or my boys still at school, work phone calls demanding me to be somewhere within two hours of walking in the door, and the stressed monotony of home. My happiness isn't here. As no one embraces me with as much love and vitality as I get when I travel. My boys love me, and give me hugs when I return from days of travel, as I them, but it's not the same...
There is something that is so powerful when someone loves you because they choose to love you, not because they are obliged to love you as family loves you. When someone chooses to love you, they love you because of your characteristics, the warmth in your heart, because you're sexy and fun, because you're an inspiration, because you are 'you.' It makes you feel good that you are loved for who you are. Family loves you because you have a responsibility to them, because you help them, guide them, give them life and opportunity, as your parents did for you. Sometimes you just want a chance to be 'you' and not the several different hats you wear for all your responsibilities. And that's what travel does for me... I love the freedom and love it gives me, and I know that I could never be the best mum to my boys if it were ever taken away from me. They know that I come home to them being a better mum, and they know that I will give them every opportunity to have a global experience. The balance has to be right. I just know where I'd rather be.
PS Parts of this tale will be featured in my book 'On the Road to the Best Orgasm Ever.'
Friday, 16 September 2011
The end of the winter sports
After over 6 months of taxiing and cheering both my boys in their soccer, hockey and basketball matches, it's time to put away the hockey sticks, the shin pads, the mouth guards, soccer balls and basketballs away for another season.
As like most families, weekends can be a bit of a juggle with sports. Luckily for us, Friday night was basketball starting anytime from 4pm to 5.45pm and finishing with some type of Friday night take-away. But Saturdays were always a headache. Soccer games were generally local, most starting at 9am (with training at 8.30am), but hockey could be anywhere from a 10 minute drive from the soccer game to an hour away or more. And of course, hockey started at 9.45am with a 9am start for training. So every week, the games clashed. When they both played home games, I would drop one off to soccer, drop the other off to hockey, go back to soccer to see the last half of the game, and return to hockey to see the last half of that game. But when they were polar opposites away, there were a few favours to ask from fellow parents who didn't need to do the Saturday morning shuttle with other kids. The boys only missed a handful of games during the season due to traveling, school concerts and the occasional logistics, so I think between us (and the help of the hockey coach and mums at school), we got there in the end.
I tried to make it as even as possible - miss one son's game one week, and the other son's game the next time venues clashed. It was the only way it would be fair. But last week was a hard decision to make - see the soccer star get presented his trophy for the end of the year, or see the hockey champ play in the semi-finals. I had to do the presentation, and his game went so well. They won 4-2 to an older team (FYI, they play the U8 and the U9 in the same competition in soccer, basketball & hockey, so there is always a younger group and an older group, which also means the 'more experienced group' and the 'less experienced group', not necessarily playing each other each round, but in the same rounds.). Our boys, who all go to school together, and most play in the same basketball team, started singing 'We are family, but not me' to the Sister Sledge song while doing the conga. It was very funny.
The hockey game apparently was a nail-biter as well. Our team were 4th on the ladder playing the top team on the ladder in the semi-final. They were even 2-2 up until the last minute when the other team scored the winning shot. Even if it stayed level, the other team would have won based on being first on the ladder. So it was a triumphant loss on the basis that they were so close to beating the top team.
So tonight was the final basketball match. Our team had started to shine over the last two-three weeks, and again playing one of the better teams in the league, the boys drew at 10-10 until we were fouled with 16 seconds to go, and the other team had to do a 2-point shoot out, missing the first but getting the second one to beat us by a point. The good thing about our kids is that they feel like they win even when they lose, because they know how far they have come from their devastating 4-30 losses to a more even game. They sing, they cheer, they Hi-5 each other, where you see other teams as bad winners and still hold a grudge for not doing a better job.
To finish off, we had pizza in the park as the sun set and the kids disappeared into the darkness. We had a small presentation where my 8 year old was 'most improved' and catering manager here (me) ordered the right amount of pizza to go around (there were only 2 slices left when we went home).
So now onto the summer sports... still deciding what to do, but it will be nice to have a couple of weeks off!
As like most families, weekends can be a bit of a juggle with sports. Luckily for us, Friday night was basketball starting anytime from 4pm to 5.45pm and finishing with some type of Friday night take-away. But Saturdays were always a headache. Soccer games were generally local, most starting at 9am (with training at 8.30am), but hockey could be anywhere from a 10 minute drive from the soccer game to an hour away or more. And of course, hockey started at 9.45am with a 9am start for training. So every week, the games clashed. When they both played home games, I would drop one off to soccer, drop the other off to hockey, go back to soccer to see the last half of the game, and return to hockey to see the last half of that game. But when they were polar opposites away, there were a few favours to ask from fellow parents who didn't need to do the Saturday morning shuttle with other kids. The boys only missed a handful of games during the season due to traveling, school concerts and the occasional logistics, so I think between us (and the help of the hockey coach and mums at school), we got there in the end.
I tried to make it as even as possible - miss one son's game one week, and the other son's game the next time venues clashed. It was the only way it would be fair. But last week was a hard decision to make - see the soccer star get presented his trophy for the end of the year, or see the hockey champ play in the semi-finals. I had to do the presentation, and his game went so well. They won 4-2 to an older team (FYI, they play the U8 and the U9 in the same competition in soccer, basketball & hockey, so there is always a younger group and an older group, which also means the 'more experienced group' and the 'less experienced group', not necessarily playing each other each round, but in the same rounds.). Our boys, who all go to school together, and most play in the same basketball team, started singing 'We are family, but not me' to the Sister Sledge song while doing the conga. It was very funny.
The hockey game apparently was a nail-biter as well. Our team were 4th on the ladder playing the top team on the ladder in the semi-final. They were even 2-2 up until the last minute when the other team scored the winning shot. Even if it stayed level, the other team would have won based on being first on the ladder. So it was a triumphant loss on the basis that they were so close to beating the top team.
So tonight was the final basketball match. Our team had started to shine over the last two-three weeks, and again playing one of the better teams in the league, the boys drew at 10-10 until we were fouled with 16 seconds to go, and the other team had to do a 2-point shoot out, missing the first but getting the second one to beat us by a point. The good thing about our kids is that they feel like they win even when they lose, because they know how far they have come from their devastating 4-30 losses to a more even game. They sing, they cheer, they Hi-5 each other, where you see other teams as bad winners and still hold a grudge for not doing a better job.
To finish off, we had pizza in the park as the sun set and the kids disappeared into the darkness. We had a small presentation where my 8 year old was 'most improved' and catering manager here (me) ordered the right amount of pizza to go around (there were only 2 slices left when we went home).
So now onto the summer sports... still deciding what to do, but it will be nice to have a couple of weeks off!
Wednesday, 14 September 2011
Knowing Who Your True Friends Are...
Life gives us tests. Tests that can break us or make us stronger. As we have friends - friends who can break us or make us stronger. Some friends point out our weaknesses in a drunken fury, other friends show us their love and appreciation for us under the same intoxicating spell. Some friends always seem to need something from you, but when you ask for something in return, they can't give back with the same enthusiasm and capacity as you've given to them. But true friends help you, guide you and make you laugh out loud when you feel that your life can get no worse.
The reason why there has been a lack of posts of late, is that I've had a fairly tumultuous time in recent weeks that stop me from writing in my positive 'go-gether' ways. And it's been the true friends who have shone for me these last few weeks, even above their own problems that in their own way, are monumental in their own lives: Husbands losing jobs, husbands taking on short-term jobs interstate, wives going through pregnancy, friends packing to move permanently interstate, friends losing family members... everyone seems to be going through some type of life-changing moment, but they are the ones who are there to support me, check up on me, make me smile and make me forget about my woes.
And the funny thing is, some friends are friendships that have been rekindled through Facebook from high school years, some are old flames and some are friends who just seem to have popped out of no where and created a brand new bond over the last couple of years through my boys, through work and through the internet. Some live around the corner, some live interstate, and some live overseas. Everyone is so different, so kind and so generous of their time.
So in this public forum, I would love to Thank You all for being there, some every couple of days, some daily, some twice daily or even more, for being the best 'family' of friends a single mum could have. Thank You!
Saturday, 10 September 2011
9/11
It was one of those moments in your life that you say 'where were you when you first heard about...?' Like when Princess Diana died, when John Lennon died, when Michael Jackson died... the pivotal moments that make you realise that no one is invincible. They make you do a double check on your own life - make you see if you can be a better person, see if you can contribute to those less fortunate, see if you can enjoy the special moments just that little bit more, make you appreciate your life more.
So where was I when I first heard about the tragedy? It happened at around 11pm the night before and I didn't hear about it until the radio came on the next morning around 6.30am. I had a seven week old baby, so I was deliriously tired and focused only on the care of my baby and my business. But there was a tone in the radio announcers voice that was eerie. Something bad had happened, something beyond repair. Through the rambling of words like 'plane,' 'America,' 'shock,' 'Tower One,' 'Tower Two,' 'deaths' and 'tragedy' I could only piece together that something equivalent to a 21st century war had broken out on American soil, something we could only imagine in the movies. I turned on the television to make sense of it all visually. I saw the impact of the first plane on the tower and thought of it as an accidental tragedy, but with the view of the second plane flying directly into the second tower, I, as all did, saw it as a deliberate act of terrorism that was the beginning of uncertainty for all westerners, all allies of the United States.
What had I brought my baby into? What kind of world would he live in?
But there was more - the attack on the Pentagon and the plane that was forced into a field in Pennsylvania destined for the United States Capitol. When would it end? It was terrifying not knowing if we would hear of another tragedy after another. It was possibly the most humbling times of my and many others lifetime.
So ten years later, what have we learnt? To accept every day like it could be our last. To enjoy the small moments, to not be dominated by finances but by the people who mean the most to us. To experience life to the fullest. To enjoy nature more. To find what your heart and soul love the most. Maybe 9/11 was a blessing in disguise for most in western society to stop, think and to take life by the horns to find happiness.
So in terms of 9/11 affecting my every day, it is most noticeable when I travel, especially to the United States. Homeland Security makes me strip down to my bare necessities, scanning all my personal items in front of a stream of strangers and law enforcers. For me, I feel it's not an inconvenience, it's my duty to ensure that their country stays safe (as I do when I re-enter Australia). It's what I need to do to enjoy the privilege of traveling.
In terms of how it's affected people as a global entity, there is no doubt that the world's economy has taken an almighty blow from the combination of extensive spending on military to ensure safety and peace within our communities and people choosing 'lifestyle' over financial responsibilities. We value communication more than ever through the means of cell phones, video chatting and the internet to keep those we love closest to us. We have a greater appreciation for the sacrifices the military and their families go through. We take better care for ourselves which is more noticeable with the ever-increasing influx of those making trips to the doctor, health farms, having regular massages, attending support groups and doing spiritual bodily exercises like yoga and tai-chi to better our wellbeing. Our values have changed, however we do 'want it all' more than ever.
So take some time out this 9/11 and think of those who sacrificed so much to give us the peace and freedom in our lives to 'choose.' As so many people in this world don't have that luxury.
So where was I when I first heard about the tragedy? It happened at around 11pm the night before and I didn't hear about it until the radio came on the next morning around 6.30am. I had a seven week old baby, so I was deliriously tired and focused only on the care of my baby and my business. But there was a tone in the radio announcers voice that was eerie. Something bad had happened, something beyond repair. Through the rambling of words like 'plane,' 'America,' 'shock,' 'Tower One,' 'Tower Two,' 'deaths' and 'tragedy' I could only piece together that something equivalent to a 21st century war had broken out on American soil, something we could only imagine in the movies. I turned on the television to make sense of it all visually. I saw the impact of the first plane on the tower and thought of it as an accidental tragedy, but with the view of the second plane flying directly into the second tower, I, as all did, saw it as a deliberate act of terrorism that was the beginning of uncertainty for all westerners, all allies of the United States.
What had I brought my baby into? What kind of world would he live in?
But there was more - the attack on the Pentagon and the plane that was forced into a field in Pennsylvania destined for the United States Capitol. When would it end? It was terrifying not knowing if we would hear of another tragedy after another. It was possibly the most humbling times of my and many others lifetime.
So ten years later, what have we learnt? To accept every day like it could be our last. To enjoy the small moments, to not be dominated by finances but by the people who mean the most to us. To experience life to the fullest. To enjoy nature more. To find what your heart and soul love the most. Maybe 9/11 was a blessing in disguise for most in western society to stop, think and to take life by the horns to find happiness.
So in terms of 9/11 affecting my every day, it is most noticeable when I travel, especially to the United States. Homeland Security makes me strip down to my bare necessities, scanning all my personal items in front of a stream of strangers and law enforcers. For me, I feel it's not an inconvenience, it's my duty to ensure that their country stays safe (as I do when I re-enter Australia). It's what I need to do to enjoy the privilege of traveling.
In terms of how it's affected people as a global entity, there is no doubt that the world's economy has taken an almighty blow from the combination of extensive spending on military to ensure safety and peace within our communities and people choosing 'lifestyle' over financial responsibilities. We value communication more than ever through the means of cell phones, video chatting and the internet to keep those we love closest to us. We have a greater appreciation for the sacrifices the military and their families go through. We take better care for ourselves which is more noticeable with the ever-increasing influx of those making trips to the doctor, health farms, having regular massages, attending support groups and doing spiritual bodily exercises like yoga and tai-chi to better our wellbeing. Our values have changed, however we do 'want it all' more than ever.
So take some time out this 9/11 and think of those who sacrificed so much to give us the peace and freedom in our lives to 'choose.' As so many people in this world don't have that luxury.
Thursday, 8 September 2011
Big feet
Went shoe-shopping for my 10-year old son last night.
If anyone knows him, and has known him for a while, he has always been my little 'Tigger.' From the day I can remember, he was so strong in the legs and happiest when standing on your lap as a baby bouncing away on the tips of his toes. He started walking around furniture at 6 months, and bolted from a fridge holding a magnet taking about twenty-steps in a row so no one would take his magnet from him at 11.5 months - his official start to walking, but really it was running.
Since then, his kinder teachers were always concerned about his toe-walking. We tried to get him to 'heel down' because we were concerned that he'd shorten the tendons in his calves as he was developing, but it was such a struggle to get him out of his habit.
The good thing about it is that he's always on his 'toes' in sport. Ready to go for the ball in soccer, tennis and hockey. He runs well in the sand at the beach and he has a spring in his step for things like long jump and high jump.
The bad thing is, he goes through a pair of shoes every 3 months or less. And I mean 'goes through them.' He has been known to wear away the soles of his shoes right through three layers of rubber at the ball of his foot, just below his toes in four weeks. The stitching for his shoes around his toes show weakness within two-three weeks of being new and can be generally destroyed with 8-10 weeks (some last a little longer). I usually buy him runners that have a reinforced toe, made of leather and none of this hi-tech breathing mesh that runners are so famous for now. Last year, he ended up getting a fungal disease on his feet that is so rare, it is usually found on those in the military tramping through the jungles of Vietnam, and the medication to treat it wasn't available with a government subsidy. So we now have to make sure he's always in 100% cotton socks.
So, as you can imagine, shoe shopping has to be 'right' for him. I can't buy cheap shoes knowing that they won't last long, I need to buy the right shoes. Last night, we went to the mall and noticed my favourite adventure shop had a up to 40% off sale. I knew they sold kids shoes, so I thought we would check them out. The kids shoes were on sale for $79.95, down from $120 so I honed in on them. The sales assistant asked me what size shoe he was... I said I think either a 5 or a 6. She said that the kids shoes only go up to a 5, he would need to go into a women's shoe, she whispered.
The display women's shoe was an 8.5. He puts it on and loves it straight away. The beauty of these shoes are they are totally waterproof, designed for hiking, but light weight enough for active sports. I have a pair of hiking boots in this brand which cost me $240, so I know how comfortable, supportive and warm they are. They have a heavy duty toe that's plastic moulded so there is no way he can bounce out of the stitching in them and the soles are plastic too. It will be hard to destroy these. After a lot of deliberation, about the cost, the fact that we are going into summer and that they are a warm shoe and that he needs to 'look after them', we opt for the next size up - a size 9 (in a women's shoe) so that these shoes have a chance of lasting him six months instead of three. As at $129.95, they had better last.
As we went to the counter to pay for them, I handed the sales assistant my 'loyalty' card, knowing that the shoes were already on sale and most likely won't be able to be discounted any more, but she was nice enough to take $12 off the price for me.
As for my son and his 'big feet', he is now only one shoe size less than me at the age of 10, and I have big feet for a girl! So help me when he's in size 12s and 13s in three-four years time and it's impossible to find him shoes.
If anyone knows him, and has known him for a while, he has always been my little 'Tigger.' From the day I can remember, he was so strong in the legs and happiest when standing on your lap as a baby bouncing away on the tips of his toes. He started walking around furniture at 6 months, and bolted from a fridge holding a magnet taking about twenty-steps in a row so no one would take his magnet from him at 11.5 months - his official start to walking, but really it was running.
Since then, his kinder teachers were always concerned about his toe-walking. We tried to get him to 'heel down' because we were concerned that he'd shorten the tendons in his calves as he was developing, but it was such a struggle to get him out of his habit.
The good thing about it is that he's always on his 'toes' in sport. Ready to go for the ball in soccer, tennis and hockey. He runs well in the sand at the beach and he has a spring in his step for things like long jump and high jump.
The bad thing is, he goes through a pair of shoes every 3 months or less. And I mean 'goes through them.' He has been known to wear away the soles of his shoes right through three layers of rubber at the ball of his foot, just below his toes in four weeks. The stitching for his shoes around his toes show weakness within two-three weeks of being new and can be generally destroyed with 8-10 weeks (some last a little longer). I usually buy him runners that have a reinforced toe, made of leather and none of this hi-tech breathing mesh that runners are so famous for now. Last year, he ended up getting a fungal disease on his feet that is so rare, it is usually found on those in the military tramping through the jungles of Vietnam, and the medication to treat it wasn't available with a government subsidy. So we now have to make sure he's always in 100% cotton socks.
So, as you can imagine, shoe shopping has to be 'right' for him. I can't buy cheap shoes knowing that they won't last long, I need to buy the right shoes. Last night, we went to the mall and noticed my favourite adventure shop had a up to 40% off sale. I knew they sold kids shoes, so I thought we would check them out. The kids shoes were on sale for $79.95, down from $120 so I honed in on them. The sales assistant asked me what size shoe he was... I said I think either a 5 or a 6. She said that the kids shoes only go up to a 5, he would need to go into a women's shoe, she whispered.
The display women's shoe was an 8.5. He puts it on and loves it straight away. The beauty of these shoes are they are totally waterproof, designed for hiking, but light weight enough for active sports. I have a pair of hiking boots in this brand which cost me $240, so I know how comfortable, supportive and warm they are. They have a heavy duty toe that's plastic moulded so there is no way he can bounce out of the stitching in them and the soles are plastic too. It will be hard to destroy these. After a lot of deliberation, about the cost, the fact that we are going into summer and that they are a warm shoe and that he needs to 'look after them', we opt for the next size up - a size 9 (in a women's shoe) so that these shoes have a chance of lasting him six months instead of three. As at $129.95, they had better last.
As we went to the counter to pay for them, I handed the sales assistant my 'loyalty' card, knowing that the shoes were already on sale and most likely won't be able to be discounted any more, but she was nice enough to take $12 off the price for me.
As for my son and his 'big feet', he is now only one shoe size less than me at the age of 10, and I have big feet for a girl! So help me when he's in size 12s and 13s in three-four years time and it's impossible to find him shoes.
Wednesday, 7 September 2011
When Parents Turn On You...
I've spoken to a couple of people who are recently separated but in a new relationship and their parents have turned on them.
If anything, you always hope that your parents support any decision that you make, but in most cases, they just want you to do the 'traditional' thing when it comes to family values - get married, have a family and live happily ever after. Or maybe they are just jealous, because they wanted to get out of their marriage and didn't have the courage to do so, so they take it out on you. Here are their stories...
One, who was in a long distance interstate relationship with someone they met on-line. He had sole-custody of his children and wanted to go away for a weekend with their new beau without his kids and asked his parents to look after his children for the weekend. His parents blatantly said 'No' because they felt that he should have closed the door on his separated relationship with all his finances, child custody issues, etc before he moved onto a new life with someone else. He was shocked, that for so many years his parents had seen him in such an unhappy relationship, but now they wanted him to be restrained by that relationship until he had completely closed that chapter. Did they think that he was cheating in his other relationship before the divorce went through? Or were they just enjoying seeing him unhappy? He asked his parents, 'Don't you think I deserve to have someone who keeps me happy, gives me support, someone I can trust and enjoy their company while I go through all this turmoil finalising my divorce?' They were speechless, but still refused to help.
Another, I mentioned recently was a friend who found her long-lost love and renewed that relationship, breaking it off amicably with her husband, only for her parents to turn on her, inviting her husband around for dinner because they felt sorry for him.
The third case, was a friend's sister who separated from her husband raising her own three children, fell in love with a man who had sole custody of his four kids, became the Brady Bunch, bought her parents house to fit them all in, but somehow her mum has felt sorry for her ex-husband and keeps him around for company now that her own husband has died, which has strained the relationship she has with her mum.
Another friend has had her mum turn on her as she doesn't agree with the way she is raising her teenage daughter. She has been through an extraordinary divorce that's involved domestic violence, the media, unpaid child support, slander, a new husband who has lost his job because of the ex-husband and a new baby on the way. So her teenage daughter is now rebelling and mixing with the wrong crowd, not coming home and is desperately trying to seek attention from someone, and her mother is suggesting she needs to be 'disciplined' with violence and a grounding. My friend would prefer to involve a psychologist, school counsellors, family counsellors due to the rapidly changing family dynamic and to talk it out to help her daughter, so her mum has decided not to talk to her anymore.
What is it with parents and their loyalty to their own children? Who knows... it just makes you know, as a single parent, you will support your kids in any decision they make, (as long as it's legal) and help them get through all the tough times, the loving times, the hurtful times and the things that try them, because as a single parent, we are more in tune with what to look out for, because no one knows how painful and hurtful life is until they've gone through a divorce or separation when there are kids involved.
If anything, you always hope that your parents support any decision that you make, but in most cases, they just want you to do the 'traditional' thing when it comes to family values - get married, have a family and live happily ever after. Or maybe they are just jealous, because they wanted to get out of their marriage and didn't have the courage to do so, so they take it out on you. Here are their stories...
One, who was in a long distance interstate relationship with someone they met on-line. He had sole-custody of his children and wanted to go away for a weekend with their new beau without his kids and asked his parents to look after his children for the weekend. His parents blatantly said 'No' because they felt that he should have closed the door on his separated relationship with all his finances, child custody issues, etc before he moved onto a new life with someone else. He was shocked, that for so many years his parents had seen him in such an unhappy relationship, but now they wanted him to be restrained by that relationship until he had completely closed that chapter. Did they think that he was cheating in his other relationship before the divorce went through? Or were they just enjoying seeing him unhappy? He asked his parents, 'Don't you think I deserve to have someone who keeps me happy, gives me support, someone I can trust and enjoy their company while I go through all this turmoil finalising my divorce?' They were speechless, but still refused to help.
Another, I mentioned recently was a friend who found her long-lost love and renewed that relationship, breaking it off amicably with her husband, only for her parents to turn on her, inviting her husband around for dinner because they felt sorry for him.
The third case, was a friend's sister who separated from her husband raising her own three children, fell in love with a man who had sole custody of his four kids, became the Brady Bunch, bought her parents house to fit them all in, but somehow her mum has felt sorry for her ex-husband and keeps him around for company now that her own husband has died, which has strained the relationship she has with her mum.
Another friend has had her mum turn on her as she doesn't agree with the way she is raising her teenage daughter. She has been through an extraordinary divorce that's involved domestic violence, the media, unpaid child support, slander, a new husband who has lost his job because of the ex-husband and a new baby on the way. So her teenage daughter is now rebelling and mixing with the wrong crowd, not coming home and is desperately trying to seek attention from someone, and her mother is suggesting she needs to be 'disciplined' with violence and a grounding. My friend would prefer to involve a psychologist, school counsellors, family counsellors due to the rapidly changing family dynamic and to talk it out to help her daughter, so her mum has decided not to talk to her anymore.
What is it with parents and their loyalty to their own children? Who knows... it just makes you know, as a single parent, you will support your kids in any decision they make, (as long as it's legal) and help them get through all the tough times, the loving times, the hurtful times and the things that try them, because as a single parent, we are more in tune with what to look out for, because no one knows how painful and hurtful life is until they've gone through a divorce or separation when there are kids involved.
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
School holidays are approaching... what do us single mums do!
I guess it all depends on how old your children are, but this idea can be adapted to any age group.
Set yourself a budget for the day, say $50 or $100, and see how far it takes you on an adventure around your city. Catch public transport and get a ticket that offers you unlimited travel for the day and just see where it takes you. Do a little bit of internet searching before you go to find out where there are a lot of free activities or get vouchers for discounts, but don't plan too much. The Entertainment Book (which I believe is available in most corners of the world) is a great source of discounts for places to eat and activities.
Last year I did this with my boys, and they had the best time. We had $100 and the boys had fun budgeting what we could do with it. In Melbourne, we caught the train to Richmond to find a rock-climbing wall I heard about under a bridge. We had to catch a tram, walk through a park and hoped to find it under a freeway. We looked everywhere, but as there was so scaffolding under the main bridge for some construction work, it seemed the rock-climbing wall was hidden, so we missed out. But instead, we found ourselves walking along the Yarra River on a beautiful sunny Melbourne day watching the rowers and cyclists doing their Sunday exercise. We climbed the staircase from the river to Church Street and walked to East Richmond station to catch a train to the city.
We came in at Flinders Street station and walked out to discover the Arts Centre Sunday Market. My then 9 year old and 7 year old boys looked at all the stalls, we had a couple plates of poffertjes, they bought some chocolate, climbed on the sculptures around the Arts Centre and enjoyed the bright colours and eclectic crafts offered by the marketeers.
We then walked along Southbank to the Eureka Tower and purchased tickets to the Skydeck. We saw how amazing our city was from the 88th floor, spotting our amazing sports stadiums, looking at the ships on the bay, and stretching our eyes to see if we could spot something close to home. We grabbed something to eat in the food court, before deciding to catch the first tram on St Kilda Road having no idea where it would take us.
We just happened to catch the No 96 tram to St Kilda Beach. When the boys saw that we were outside Luna Park, they were very excited. We had enough money to have one ride each, and these chose the Scenic Railway.
We then walked down Acland Street, grabbed an ice-cream, walked down the streets towards Elwood and caught the bus home. It was a day for us to be us... a day where we talked about what each of us wanted to do, a day that we all truly enjoyed and were pleasantly exhausted at the end of the day. It's a memory that we all cherish, with my boys constantly reminding me that they want to do it again, soon.
Set yourself a budget for the day, say $50 or $100, and see how far it takes you on an adventure around your city. Catch public transport and get a ticket that offers you unlimited travel for the day and just see where it takes you. Do a little bit of internet searching before you go to find out where there are a lot of free activities or get vouchers for discounts, but don't plan too much. The Entertainment Book (which I believe is available in most corners of the world) is a great source of discounts for places to eat and activities.
Last year I did this with my boys, and they had the best time. We had $100 and the boys had fun budgeting what we could do with it. In Melbourne, we caught the train to Richmond to find a rock-climbing wall I heard about under a bridge. We had to catch a tram, walk through a park and hoped to find it under a freeway. We looked everywhere, but as there was so scaffolding under the main bridge for some construction work, it seemed the rock-climbing wall was hidden, so we missed out. But instead, we found ourselves walking along the Yarra River on a beautiful sunny Melbourne day watching the rowers and cyclists doing their Sunday exercise. We climbed the staircase from the river to Church Street and walked to East Richmond station to catch a train to the city.
Monday, 5 September 2011
A Blast from the Past
Today was an exciting day for me... exciting but relaxed. Today I met up with my first ever boyfriend in the flesh for the first time in thirteen and a half years.
We were each others' "firsts" in our high school years. We were only together for three months, but they were the most wonderful three months of my teenage years. He was almost two years older than me, and we 'broke up' because I was starting a new school that added 2 hours of travel each day to my day, and he lived ten kilometres from my home in the opposite direction from school, and he just felt that if we couldn't see each other, then what is the point of continuing, but at the same time, he declared his love to me saying that one day, we may be again.
So as any love-struck teenage girl would do, I held onto that thought that one day it may happen again. And there were chances. I would generally call him up every six or so months to see how he was going, but he had another girlfriend, who he ended up marrying. When I was in my final year of school, he unexpectedly called me up, and we decided to catch up over lunch. I hoped that this was our chance to renew things, but his mind was very scattered and he couldn't look at me, so lunch was disappointing and he didn't return my calls after it. So I continued life, hoping in the back of my mind, that one day, it still may happen.
At what would have been ten years after we were together, I wrote him a tear-jerking letter asking him why he came back into my life for a fleeting moment only to leave just as quickly. It was possibly ten pages of thoughts, feelings, hopes (because I'm an avid letter writer!) and dreams of our time together and how he dearly had a place close to my heart. I wrote the letter and sealed it, but never sent it.... not until about three months later, having no idea what I actually wrote.
Two weeks after I posted the letter to his Dad's house (as that was the only address I had), I received a phone call at work. It was him. He sounded different... almost gay. I was excited because I had a chance to get to know him again, but concerned at the same time about his sexual orientation. We decided to meet up ten days later at a cafe halfway between our offices.
We met up at Giorgios in Armadale, he in his physiotherapist whites, me in my casual office attire and we sat down for a coffee. We talked about the unresolved issues we had between us, but he wasn't as open as I had hoped. He kept saying 'he'd forgotten.' But then he talked about all his beer drinking partying that he did ten years prior, and that he was still doing it... But he was also newly-married to the girlfriend he had after me. I was devastated, but realised that we were in two different places and wanting two different things, so it was OK for me to move on now.
So I did, and we never spoke again... not until I found him on the internet about eighteen months ago living in London. He had divorced his teenage sweetheart (I was his childhood sweetheart!), but now had a serious girlfriend with whom he was happy. He revealed to me in our first series of emails that he often thought about me, and wonders what would have happened if we continued. He told me he kept my letters in a box in his cupboard until one day someone robbed his house and took them, unknowing that it was nothing important to anyone else except him. He remembered my birthday without being prompted. His kindness was shining and he was showing that I actually did have a special place in his heart.
So today, we met up at Brown Cow in Hampton Street, I had a wine, he had a beer. We sat chatting for almost two hours about how his trip back home has been like, his travels, my travels, kids, family, life in general. It didn't seem like we were stuck for anything to say, and it was nice. The sun was out, we had a few smiles and a few laughs. He is still quite cute for someone who's almost forty, and taller than I remembered, and quite lean. He wore a shirt that revealed some of his salt-n-peppering chest hair, and his stubble showed flecks of grey, but his curly, slightly receding hairline didn't (and it didn't looked dyed either). His eyes were still as mesmerising, and he still had the sweetest smile, and I can see that we have a lot of things in common now - travel, living our own lives not that what our family expects, etc. but we are in different hemispheres all the same. I'm glad we still have our friendship and that will always continue.
So we left each other with a hug and a peck on the cheek, like friends do. He paid for the drinks, which was sweet and gentlemanly of him, and he sent me a text about an hour ago saying that it was great to catch up, apologised that it wasn't longer, and he hopes to see me in London one day soon.
So that's my love story that's blossomed back into my life in the form of friendship, someone who will always have a close place in my heart, someone I've never had any animosity with and someone I will have a connection with possibly for the rest of my life.
We were each others' "firsts" in our high school years. We were only together for three months, but they were the most wonderful three months of my teenage years. He was almost two years older than me, and we 'broke up' because I was starting a new school that added 2 hours of travel each day to my day, and he lived ten kilometres from my home in the opposite direction from school, and he just felt that if we couldn't see each other, then what is the point of continuing, but at the same time, he declared his love to me saying that one day, we may be again.
So as any love-struck teenage girl would do, I held onto that thought that one day it may happen again. And there were chances. I would generally call him up every six or so months to see how he was going, but he had another girlfriend, who he ended up marrying. When I was in my final year of school, he unexpectedly called me up, and we decided to catch up over lunch. I hoped that this was our chance to renew things, but his mind was very scattered and he couldn't look at me, so lunch was disappointing and he didn't return my calls after it. So I continued life, hoping in the back of my mind, that one day, it still may happen.
At what would have been ten years after we were together, I wrote him a tear-jerking letter asking him why he came back into my life for a fleeting moment only to leave just as quickly. It was possibly ten pages of thoughts, feelings, hopes (because I'm an avid letter writer!) and dreams of our time together and how he dearly had a place close to my heart. I wrote the letter and sealed it, but never sent it.... not until about three months later, having no idea what I actually wrote.
Two weeks after I posted the letter to his Dad's house (as that was the only address I had), I received a phone call at work. It was him. He sounded different... almost gay. I was excited because I had a chance to get to know him again, but concerned at the same time about his sexual orientation. We decided to meet up ten days later at a cafe halfway between our offices.
We met up at Giorgios in Armadale, he in his physiotherapist whites, me in my casual office attire and we sat down for a coffee. We talked about the unresolved issues we had between us, but he wasn't as open as I had hoped. He kept saying 'he'd forgotten.' But then he talked about all his beer drinking partying that he did ten years prior, and that he was still doing it... But he was also newly-married to the girlfriend he had after me. I was devastated, but realised that we were in two different places and wanting two different things, so it was OK for me to move on now.
So I did, and we never spoke again... not until I found him on the internet about eighteen months ago living in London. He had divorced his teenage sweetheart (I was his childhood sweetheart!), but now had a serious girlfriend with whom he was happy. He revealed to me in our first series of emails that he often thought about me, and wonders what would have happened if we continued. He told me he kept my letters in a box in his cupboard until one day someone robbed his house and took them, unknowing that it was nothing important to anyone else except him. He remembered my birthday without being prompted. His kindness was shining and he was showing that I actually did have a special place in his heart.
So today, we met up at Brown Cow in Hampton Street, I had a wine, he had a beer. We sat chatting for almost two hours about how his trip back home has been like, his travels, my travels, kids, family, life in general. It didn't seem like we were stuck for anything to say, and it was nice. The sun was out, we had a few smiles and a few laughs. He is still quite cute for someone who's almost forty, and taller than I remembered, and quite lean. He wore a shirt that revealed some of his salt-n-peppering chest hair, and his stubble showed flecks of grey, but his curly, slightly receding hairline didn't (and it didn't looked dyed either). His eyes were still as mesmerising, and he still had the sweetest smile, and I can see that we have a lot of things in common now - travel, living our own lives not that what our family expects, etc. but we are in different hemispheres all the same. I'm glad we still have our friendship and that will always continue.
So we left each other with a hug and a peck on the cheek, like friends do. He paid for the drinks, which was sweet and gentlemanly of him, and he sent me a text about an hour ago saying that it was great to catch up, apologised that it wasn't longer, and he hopes to see me in London one day soon.
So that's my love story that's blossomed back into my life in the form of friendship, someone who will always have a close place in my heart, someone I've never had any animosity with and someone I will have a connection with possibly for the rest of my life.
Saturday, 3 September 2011
Death... is a celebration of life
Death, not necessarily a person or living thing, is the end of an era. If it's the death of a relationship, the death of a family member, the death of a television set. However hurtful it is to part with these relationships (as we all do have a relationship with our TV set!), we all need to accept that what has gone has gone from our lives and we need to re-build and live a better life knowing how well that involvement with that person or being affected us.
So how do we move on? For a family member or friend, it's interesting how the 'living' work. Most will reflect on the good that person brought into our lives - the joy, their loves, their achievements and their passions. For those who were surrounded by love by the deceased person, their life can be in shatters as the dead were the strength behind them and they have no idea how to live without them. The grieving period can be long and drawn out, because they don't know how to exist without their loved one. For others, after all the pomp and ceremony of a funeral, the 'unspoken' comes out, especially if there was a darker side to that human being. Some feel that they are now able to let go of the hurt and secrets that have been weighing them down for years. Some feel that now that that person is no longer with them they can breathe and be the person that they always wanted to be. It's interesting how one person can cause so much damage to another's emotional and physical state.
But why do we let this happen? Why do we allow one person to control who we are? Why can't we physically move away from this person so we can just 'move on' and be the person we want to be? Is it a question of family bullying at its best? Sometimes it's a question of small-town mentality. Prior to the days of planes, trains and automobiles, no one ever really travelled - it was actually called 'exploring' back then. We stayed in our little villages, surrounded by family and neighbours who became our family and everyone knew everything about everyone. Some people are still in that vortex, and in fact the social mentality of some countries are the same. For instance, there is a figure that only 37% of the population in the United States have a passport, and only 5 years ago it was 20%. The U.S. Homeland Security used to not worry about citizens travelling between Canada, Mexico or Bermuda to have a passport, but since 9/11, they have made it more stringent for those re-entering the country to have proper documentation. Therefore, some haven't got the vision to be able to relocate on a grand scale - to the next state or to another country for the sake of growing and reaching their own abilities, so they wait it out, becoming more depressed and unable to function as a family member takes over their lives.
A 'death' of a relationship is usually worse than the death of a person, as there is the possibility of always having that person still in your lives for the sake of your children or simply just bumping into them in the street. You can't seem to get away from that person, as they unknowing to you, keep tabs on you through Googling you on the internet via social pages and other information, they can stalk you, do things to jeopardise your new relationships or you need to still have some type of financial attachment to them for child support, alimony or joint property. You can't completely get rid of them out of your life unless you disappear and/or create yourself a new identity. Even if you try to move on, they try to maintain some type of contact trying to maintain some control over you. Is there any way, outside of death, that you can move on without your past partner/s influencing the way you live your life? For those who are successful at moving on, they find new and exciting ways to create a future for themselves rather than holding onto the past. They do the things that they always dreamed of doing - traveling, sports, Yoga, trying out new restaurants, meeting new people, learning an instrument - whatever it is that makes them feel 'human' again, makes them feel in touch with their soul.
As for the death of an 'object', it really does depend on how materialistic you are. Who knows, you might feel better with the upgrade of a new one, or upset that the quality just isn't there with the newer versions. But then there are tragedies like fire and flood that destroy our photos and sentimental items. As technology advances, more and more people are transferring their photos to digital format, making it easier to store and retrieve photos in times of desperation, but really, in the whole scheme of things, isn't it the memory of the joy that you received from that object or looking at those photos more rewarding than the actual item? I know everyone is different, but it's all about perspective... people are more important than 'things' and when you see the tragedy in third world countries and the wars in the Middle East and Mexico, then all in all, life really ain't that bad. If you are at all reading this, you have the access to a computer, you have electricity, heating, running water, food on the table and a means to communicate and most of us have the people we love close to us. Isn't that something to celebrate?
So for those who have something or someone dying around them, don't look at the negative of the loss, look at it as an opportunity to gain - a chance to celebrate your own life, celebrate their lives, celebrate who you are and celebrate the time you had together with that person or object. Let go... release yourself from their stranglehold and discover a new and improved you. Learn to love yourself as the person you are, not who you were as a couple, a friendship or as part of a family.
So how do we move on? For a family member or friend, it's interesting how the 'living' work. Most will reflect on the good that person brought into our lives - the joy, their loves, their achievements and their passions. For those who were surrounded by love by the deceased person, their life can be in shatters as the dead were the strength behind them and they have no idea how to live without them. The grieving period can be long and drawn out, because they don't know how to exist without their loved one. For others, after all the pomp and ceremony of a funeral, the 'unspoken' comes out, especially if there was a darker side to that human being. Some feel that they are now able to let go of the hurt and secrets that have been weighing them down for years. Some feel that now that that person is no longer with them they can breathe and be the person that they always wanted to be. It's interesting how one person can cause so much damage to another's emotional and physical state.
But why do we let this happen? Why do we allow one person to control who we are? Why can't we physically move away from this person so we can just 'move on' and be the person we want to be? Is it a question of family bullying at its best? Sometimes it's a question of small-town mentality. Prior to the days of planes, trains and automobiles, no one ever really travelled - it was actually called 'exploring' back then. We stayed in our little villages, surrounded by family and neighbours who became our family and everyone knew everything about everyone. Some people are still in that vortex, and in fact the social mentality of some countries are the same. For instance, there is a figure that only 37% of the population in the United States have a passport, and only 5 years ago it was 20%. The U.S. Homeland Security used to not worry about citizens travelling between Canada, Mexico or Bermuda to have a passport, but since 9/11, they have made it more stringent for those re-entering the country to have proper documentation. Therefore, some haven't got the vision to be able to relocate on a grand scale - to the next state or to another country for the sake of growing and reaching their own abilities, so they wait it out, becoming more depressed and unable to function as a family member takes over their lives.
A 'death' of a relationship is usually worse than the death of a person, as there is the possibility of always having that person still in your lives for the sake of your children or simply just bumping into them in the street. You can't seem to get away from that person, as they unknowing to you, keep tabs on you through Googling you on the internet via social pages and other information, they can stalk you, do things to jeopardise your new relationships or you need to still have some type of financial attachment to them for child support, alimony or joint property. You can't completely get rid of them out of your life unless you disappear and/or create yourself a new identity. Even if you try to move on, they try to maintain some type of contact trying to maintain some control over you. Is there any way, outside of death, that you can move on without your past partner/s influencing the way you live your life? For those who are successful at moving on, they find new and exciting ways to create a future for themselves rather than holding onto the past. They do the things that they always dreamed of doing - traveling, sports, Yoga, trying out new restaurants, meeting new people, learning an instrument - whatever it is that makes them feel 'human' again, makes them feel in touch with their soul.
As for the death of an 'object', it really does depend on how materialistic you are. Who knows, you might feel better with the upgrade of a new one, or upset that the quality just isn't there with the newer versions. But then there are tragedies like fire and flood that destroy our photos and sentimental items. As technology advances, more and more people are transferring their photos to digital format, making it easier to store and retrieve photos in times of desperation, but really, in the whole scheme of things, isn't it the memory of the joy that you received from that object or looking at those photos more rewarding than the actual item? I know everyone is different, but it's all about perspective... people are more important than 'things' and when you see the tragedy in third world countries and the wars in the Middle East and Mexico, then all in all, life really ain't that bad. If you are at all reading this, you have the access to a computer, you have electricity, heating, running water, food on the table and a means to communicate and most of us have the people we love close to us. Isn't that something to celebrate?
So for those who have something or someone dying around them, don't look at the negative of the loss, look at it as an opportunity to gain - a chance to celebrate your own life, celebrate their lives, celebrate who you are and celebrate the time you had together with that person or object. Let go... release yourself from their stranglehold and discover a new and improved you. Learn to love yourself as the person you are, not who you were as a couple, a friendship or as part of a family.
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