All The Small Things

Mood: Sigh, Sigh, Sigh - need I say more?
Listening to: StarFM - Stupid AusMade

Life is Complicated.

Not so harsh as the classic line "Life is Difficult", but more apt for the troubles I now find myself in. Deep Troubles. Dare I capitalise... Yes I believe I do... DEEP TROUBLES. Ahh. *Sigh* That feels better.

Men.

Bloody Men.

I thought I had my little situation sorted out. I have in the past been guilty of making the most incredibly stupid mistakes in my love life. Most of these mistakes were caused by one thing. Sex. The root of all evil - pardon the pun.

I am a girl who enjoys it. I won't (nay - I cannot) deny that I enjoy it. I'm not out there doing it with just anyone, I'm certainly not promiscuous, however, I enjoy having regular sex. Heck - I'm not the only one in the world who enjoys it, surely! In the past I have had the blessing of having a partner who was accomodating enough to meet my needs on a regular, satisfying, and sometimes inventive, basis.

Being single however, has presented its own unique issues. I know from past experience that I don't make the best decisions about the men that I date when I am... well... shall we say, frustrated. In fact, I make TERRIBLE decisions. I bring in people with whom I am not even remotely compatible, with whom I then practice the age-old, time-honoured reciprocating art of "Make Me Miserable". Married people have been doing it for years, or so I'm told! This would be yet another nod towards my tendancy to allow men to skip the "dating" part of the relationship, and straight into "couch time". If I allow it? I think thats a liberty that is just taken, not approved by management as it were.

Anyway - my point was that I make terrible decisions. So this time, armed with that little gem of self-awareness, I decided to make a proactive stance against the otherwise inevitably poor next-partner selection. I enlisted the aid of a gentleman of my aquaintance, who was not a close friend, but of whom I had some knowledge, and I asked him if he'd be interested in coming to an arrangement with me, whereby we would use each other for gratuitous (and I hoped) excellent sex, with no committment.

Actually that was the big bit. No Committment. I had already decided, based on my knowledge of this person that he would not be "my type" and nor would I be his. Thus circumventing the "I love you breed with me" response, while ensuring the "Sleep with Me" response that was desired. Naturally - because I am both hot and modest LOL - he agreed.

We had a long and involved discussion about how it would work, that he was not to meet Nicky, that he was only welcome in my home when she wasn't with me, that this wasn't going anywhere, and how I wasn't interested in dating, etc. etc. etc. All was agreed, it was AGREED.

And now - after meeting up only ONCE - he has decided that he likes me. I mean really. Really???

*Righteous Indignation*

Whats the story there??? Surely I'm not that likable! In which case he's entered into this arrangement under false pretences! Or perhaps I am that likable, and just totally misread what kind of guy he was, that I am really his type. *sigh* I can't even choose a casual sex guy with any sort of success. I suck at this stuff!

And the worst part of it? He is actually the sort of guy that I SHOULD date. He's kind and gentle, he cuddles (ohmygod!) and he treats me with respect. He reads, of his own volition, books - not hunting magazines. BOOKS. God that's sexy. And - this is the best part - he's really very bright.

That sounds condecending doesn't it! Well - this is nothing against the guys that I have dated - but they haven't been the sharpest tools in the shed. Most of the boys I've dated (and granted there hasn't been a lot - so perhaps my sample group isn't representative of males as a whole) don't read. Or they read magazines. For the pictures, let me assure you now. And reading is something that gives me a lot of joy. I love to dive into a great story, and its nice to speak to someone who doesn't think I have three heads because of it!

This guy is intelligent. Can - and more importantly will - discuss ideas with me. We've had conversations on issues of emotion, familial relationships, finance, politics, literature, art. I don't know. He's not educated per se, but he's smart. And practical. He's funny. And he calls just to say hi. Even though he hates the telephone. He came over last night - even though he knew that sex wasn't on offer - and just cuddled me all night. He even watched Big Brother with me. (Yes I know its mind numbing - Its my ONE guilty pleasure OK!?!?)

I've been in long term committed relationships with men who didn't cuddle me all night. I LOVE that. And I didn't even ask him to - he just likes to hold me. A) thats really unusual in my experience and B) HOORAY!! LOL.

But now I don't know what to do. When he said that he really liked me, I didn't quite know how to react to that. I don't want to be in a relationship right now. I really think that I need some time to just figure out who it is that I am, what I want, why I want it. I want to really know that I am making the right decisions for me, and for Nicky. That was the whole point of this debarcle anyway. So that I could make the RIGHT decision for once. *sigh*

And he is gentle. Really gentle. I don't think I've ever been treated as gently. In all different sorts of ways. My girlfriend asked my why he wasn't boyfriend material. Well, before, I would have said that he was too rough, not very switched on, and not super attractive.

He's not a great looking guy, to be honest. But at the same time, now that I've spent time with him, there is something attractive, and vulnerable about him, something in his eyes maybe. Yet there's great strength in him too. He really knows who he is already. But its like he understands what it's like to not know yourself. And yet in some ways he's quite unsure of himself, he asks advice on the funniest things - what should I wear - what sort of stuff should I use on my face? Cute and funny. Funny ha ha - not funny odd.

But things that I was expecting to be rough about him simply aren't. He works outdoors, but his hands are softer than mine. They're still man-hands, but they aren't all calloused and gross, they're nice. And he's got this perennial 5 o'clock shadow. He's been shaving before he comes to see me, but last night he didn't, and even that wasn't rough. (He didn't shave cos his face was sore from shaving - its not something he used to do a lot!) It was really weird, it was the softest hair I've ever felt - like a person with a shaved head who's just conditioned it, that smooth softness. And his skin! I wish my face was that soft!! (God - I sound like a leather handbag!!LOL) But his skin is like baby soft. Crazy. And totally unexpected.

I don't know what to do - so I just asked if we could not do anything for a while. Thats a pathetic response I know - but he was OK with it. And we discussed that I really wasn't looking for a relationship, and how complicated that would make things. I even told him that I really hadn't expected him to like me - thats why I'd asked him! He said he hadn't expected to really like me either, as much as he did. And I let him know that I did like him - I wasn't expecting to, yet I do. And I'm coming to terms with that. Its like you get into the mindset that something is going to be a certain way, then when it changes you need a little while to adjust the brain. I guess we were pleasantly surprised with each other.

Life Is Complicated.

But - better than the Bold & the Beautiful no?

Blogging through the quagmire that is my life,

Sass.

Mood: Fruity & Fabulous
Listening to: StarFM

Got given this today. Am thinking on it. Feel free to add your thoughts to mine, and together we shall create a virtual hot pot of mental sustanance. I'll stick some carrots in later for a spot of colour. And a touch of parsley for garnish. Yummy.

On being yourself:

You must learn that you cannot be loved by all people.

You can be the finest apple in the whole world - ripe juicy, sweet and succulent - and offer yourself to all. But you must remember that there will be people who do not like apples.

You must understand that if you are the world's finest apple, and someone you love does not like apples, you have the choice of becoming a banana.

But you must be warned that if you choose to be a banana, you will be a second rate banana. But you can always be the finest apple.

You must also realise that if you choose to be a second rate banana, there will be people who do not like bananas.

Furthermore...

You can spend your life trying to become the best banana - which is impossible if you are an apple - Or you can seek again to be the finest apple.

Interesting stuff.

I was given it at a leadership thing that a good friend of mine and I were speaking at today. I had no idea that they had previously been talking about being yourself - We just walked in and sat down and started talking about our topic (which was to give them some insight into our own leadership journey). When we were done the facilitator gave me that on a sheet, and told me that I could have been the person who wrote it.

She meant it to be a compliment I think, because I had been speaking to the group on how I had discovered myself on my leadership journey, and now I am myself in every situation, or I strive to be anyway. I used to be quite a closed up person - I didn't let many people see the "real" me, and now I refuse to hide behind masks. There's no point pretending to be other than you are. It just takes up a lot of energy that could be used for other, more interesting things.

Besides which, if I can't bring the "real" me into my relationships, friendships, work environment, etc, how can I ever hope to have a life that is authentic? I can't.

Being yourself is a risky business though. There is always the possibility that folks wont like you. Boo hoo. If people don't like me that's their loss!!

The biggest gift I ever recieved was when I learned that I am beautiful in my soul, not only because of the nice parts of me, but also because of the damaged bits, and the ugly mistakes I've made. These are the things that built my character, and the grace with which I deal with them adds to me, it doesn't make me less. Whats on the inside is so much more important than whats on the outside, because it lasts.

That may be why I get so indignant with people who judge others by their appearance. Looking at me, you have no idea of the experiences I've had, the strength of my beliefs, the courage that I possess in the face of adversity. You see only a young woman. (If I'm having a good hair day, and have made an effort, you may see an attractive young woman! lol) Yet I, and indeed everyone, is so much more than their outer shell. And an attractive outer shell doesn't necessarily mean an attractive person inside.

Don't know that I'm an apple. If I had to choose I think I'd be a pomegranate. They're interesting, yummy, and there is that wonderful myth about Persephone and the Pomegranate.

I do love being the best pomegranate I can be. And I love pomegranates.

Perhaps one day I'll find someone who loves pomegranites too, my own hottie like Hades? But until then, I sit here contentedly alone in my fruit bowl, blogging.

Sass

Mood: A Bit Flighty, A Lot Frozen
Listening to: My Teeth Chatter

Isn't Christmas a lovely time of the year??

Don't you just love the little Christmas trees, the toy sales, the dinners??

Me Too.

IN DECEMBER!!!!!!!!!!

Who was it that moved Christmas to July? I went into my bank yesterday, and there were little trees on all the counters. Part of some promotion they're running, ok I get that, but Nicky doesn't! She was asking me if it was Christmas time now. I told her it wasn't, and then she wanted to know why the people had their trees up if it wasn't Christmas. How do you explain marketing campaigns to children? Hmm.

In the end, I told her that some people didn't have beautiful little girls to draw and paint pictures for them, so they had to find other things to decorate their offices with. My walls at work are covered in her artworks - I really am very lucky to be my own boss here. Whatever I want goes. Its awesome. So on my desk I've got photos of almost all my nearest and dearest, I've got my favourite poetry, half my CD collection (after all - who has time to listen at home, lol!) Plus a bunch of drawings that I've done myself. Maybe thats why I'm happy to spend such a disproportunate amount of time here - because it feels so much like home.

Actually, I was thinking of getting some sofas for the kitchen, but really, on nights when I'm by myself I'd probably end up sleeping here. I mean, I don't knock off until 2 or 3 am on those nights anyway. Would be kind of weird to wake up here!Plus then I'd have to keep a toothbrush etc here as well... and while I already have smaller versions of all my hair products, a brush, a spare jumper,  moisuriser, lip balm, mascara and a frozen dinner here, a toothbrush seems to be going too far. God, that whole paragraph makes me sound incredibly boring doesn't it! I'm not! I'm not! I promise!! LOL

I never understood workaholics. I still don't I guess - but I don't count myself as one of them. I'm just a night person. I get much more done, plus it leaves my days open for the real business of having a cuppa with my customers. Much more fun.

Everythings getting a bit weird on the personal front at the moment. Boys are circling, as boys are wont to do. I never quite understood it until I read this shark splatter book. In it, I learned that sharks make a pass past their prey, prior to moving in for the kill. I don't know if thats true or not - and I'm too lazy to find out by Googling - maybe one of you could find out and post it for our mutual learning. Anyway, my point was that I believe men behave in that way too. They make more than one pass - perhaps that has to do with them being higher up the evolutionary ladder (not as high as women, but higher than sharks!) - several passes over a period of weeks. This lulls the prey into a false sense of security "yes, this guy wants to be my friend". Then they strike.

Strikes take on two forms in my experience. The "I love you, I want you to be the mother of my children" or the "You're a tease if you don't want to sleep with me".

For the record, I am an incorrigible flirt. I can't help it. I was never actually aware that I did it - but it's been pointed out to me on more than one occasion - so I guess its true. And now that I'm aware of it I KNOW its true. I'm terrible. Every time I go to the loo during a mixed function, I find myself looking in the mirror and saying "Yoorr terrrrible Sassy-girl" I am however a very gentle flirt. I am not into being overtly sexual, I think I run more to letting men know that I appreciate them. I just like blokes. I find they tend to be easier to get along with (until the trouble starts anyway!!) they aren't as bitchy as girls CAN be. I love my girls though.

So there are men that take flirting as "she wants me". Its not true, its not intentional, and when they try to hold/pash/inappropriately touch me, and are repelled, somehow I become the bad guy. "Oh, but you led me on."

Bugger off. Talking to someone, flirting with someone, letting them know you enjoy their company does not mean that you owe them anything. Comments welcome. I must note that this very rarely happens to me. I'm really not that sort of flirt, or that sort of girl for that matter. I do have my A rating to consider after all!!

The sort I seem to attract with alarming monotony is the "I love you, breed with me" sort. Men want to take me home to meet their mums. "You're the type of girl I'd love to settle down with". While flattering - most of them are NOT the type of boy that I would settle down with. And then when we break up (the last one is a perfect example of this) they just don't want to let it go.

It's very nice to be thought of in that way I guess. But I don't know. Some times I'd love to break out of that - be the naughty girl. Be the girl who dates once or twice, then never calls again. Heck - BE the girl who DATES! My men seem to fall very quickly into couch and TV mode. LOL! Hooray! Another night with the CSI hotties (male for me, female for him) and a our jimjams and moccies!

Perhaps there's something inherent in me that makes them react that way? Hmm. Something to ponder.

Until next Blog,

Sass

Mood: Floaty 'n' Stuff
Listening to: StarFM (Love that Red Eye)

Don't know whats going on with this Blog tonight, I just finished writing a huge entry about losing that last one, the Tibetan Prayer Sand. I lost it, honest! It was gone, I deleted it by accident, and now its back! But the entry I wrote about it being gone is gone now!?!

As Alice would say: Curiouser and curiouser.

"We're through the looking glass people."

And I'm sure thats a quote, I just can't remember who said it. The voice in my head sounds like Jim Carey, but I'm not sure. There are so many voices competing, and its quite echo-y.

Particularly tonight, when I've been up a ladder painting our bathroom. I had a choice to make. I could open the window, let the air (which with wind chill is at a balmy 1 degree C.) or I could keep the heaters blasting and retain the use of my fingers and toes. So, like a slack jawed religious zealot, I chose life. Now I actually am slack jawed. Didn't know that that was a side effect of fume inhilation. There you go - learn something new every day.

Thats also how I came to delete then recover my entry - my fingers have full feeling, but they aren't responding particularly well to the mental commands I'm giving them. In fairness though, its got to be confusing with Jim Carey, Alice in Wonderland, the Radio DJ, and me all giving directions at once...

Looking around my office, looks like the Enola Gay's been over for a bit of a trip down memory lane. Not cool. Its only the second day back, and already my desk has disappeared. Will have to clean that up before I go home. If I'm gonna have a headache from the fumes tomorrow, I'll be buggered if I have to clear a space before I can put my head down for a nap!

Not to mention that my Childcare team are back on deck tomorrow - they may need to know which children are attending, and I'll be in no fit state to do that first thing either. I'll add that to my list of stuff I have to do before I can go home to bed with the other two great loves of my life (minds out of the gutter folks - my book and my chocolate!!). The most action happening in my bed right now is my digestive system processing a block of Mr. Cadburys finest.

Need Coffee?...

(Sorry, that was the waitress from last nights film... she was talking to Jim...)

I really need to pee. Unfortunately that puts me in a difficult position. Our loo doesn't work at the moment. Will have go next door. Back in a minute...

Ahhhhhh thats better.... Do I look thinner?  He he he...

I really should be getting on with the pile of work I have to do, if I don't it'll be there in the morning, staring at me accusingly. It may even mutate, grow tonsils and vocal cords and join the party in my head... I think its getting a bit tight in there. Yeah, me too. I agree. Lets not push our luck.

Shhh guys, I'm trying to blog here!

I'd better get on with this work I guess. Can't spend all night here again. Sleeps a funny thing, you really don't know how much you need it until you are deprived of it, unwillingly or through your own stupidity.

Time for me to go, after all, it is quarter to blog!

Sass

Mood: Ready for Beddy
Listening to: The bloody radio (StarFM) Wish they'd play my song!

Ok, so now that I've put it in the title, I can't not write about it... love those double negatives.

My gorgeous friend James and his fiancee are wonderful hippie types that are extremely talented, beautiful, attractive people. The sort of people that you could get really jealous of, if they weren't so lovely. We all know at least one person like that. So wonderful, but yet unaware of how wonderful they are. They are just so used to being that way its like they don't even notice. Sigh.

Anyway, my friend James spent a week with a bunch of Tibetan Monks last year, when they came to town to create a Prayer Mandala similar to this one:

Because I'm too lazy to explain the process to you, here's a grab from a website:

From all the artistic traditions of Tantric Buddhism, that of painting with colored sand ranks as one of the most unique and exquisite. In Tibetan this art is called dul-tson-kyil-khor, which literally means "mandala of colored powders." Millions of grains of sand are painstakingly laid into place on a flat platform over a period of days or weeks. When finished, to symbolize the impermanence of all that exists, the colored sands are swept up and poured into a nearby river or stream where the waters carry the healing energies throughout the world.

Anyway, the deal is that they sweep the thing up. So because my mate James was there with them, they gave him a bit of the sand to take home. They did the same this year, and even though he couldn't spend the whole week, he was there for the sweeping ceremony, and they gave him some of the sand. The rest of it went into the river. I went to visit him during the week, and when I told him about the renovations we are doing here at work at the moment, he gave me some of the sand to sprinkle to bless the new part of the building.

So yesterday, I had a chat to our wonderful tiler, and asked him if he would let me sprinkle out the sand under the tiles. (I figured that was the most permanent way to bless the room, if we set them into the floor) So he let me - he thinks I'm deranged - but he let me. Mind you, he knows me, so he already thought I was a bit imbalanced!

Actually, it was funny talking to him about it. He was amused at the start, but I explained the mandala etc, and he was really into it. He was saying that he'd never done a "holy" job before, he thought it was a bit cool really. I do too. Might make up a bit of a blurb to let folks know that the room is blessed. Bet there aren't any other buildings in this town that can claim that!

Except the churches maybe. Well obviously.

Anyway...

Wanted to share a bit more about the party on Saturday. This is a bit sad. You have been warned.

When I got to the party, I was accosted by a boy in an ape suit with Franjelico shots, insisting that "everyone had to have one" no worries. I'm up for that, in a pinch. (I had two... I like the stuff, what can I say!)

Shortly after, I was approached by the birthday boy himself, who was carrying a flask of what he claimed was Franjelico. After taking a shot (again - he guilted me with the "Everyones got to, its a shot out of respect" - I took that to mean out of respect for the occasion of his birthday. I was wrong.) And it wasn't Franjelico for the record. I don't know what it was - a concoction of every alcoholic spirit he could lay his hands on - anyway, it tasted vile. Had to have an immediate slurp of my tart fuel (pre-mix) to kill the burning on my tonsils! It was like the whole crew from Men at Work were in my head, but they all had jackhammers, even the Indian. Powerful stuff.

Later in the evening I ran into the lady who works in the shop next to mine. We've had lots of chats, because she lost her son three years ago, and I lost a very good friend almost 2 years ago, and its nice to talk to someone about that stuff who really can understand where you are coming from - you know?

She was at the party with her husband and their daughter. They're really good friends with the birthday lad, and then she told me that it was on the night of his 18th birthday party that her son was killed in a car crash. He was heading home from the party, and they hit a tree.

The "Shot out of respect" was for the birthday lads best mate, who would have been 21 this year if he had lived. I can't imagine having to hold a birthday party, having everyone celebrating, and having everyone thinking that the last time there was a party like this, our mate was killed. Actually, they bought the party forward a week from his birthday, to avoid the anniversary.

You have to give him credit though. Lots of blokes would have not talked about how they felt about that, but he did. There were speeches that mentioned him, and they weren't depressing, they were just usual 21st speeches. I remember the time when we...

All the same, there was a feeling that all the people there were really determined to have a good time - determined to a) give the party lad an awesome party to remember (which it definitely was!!!) but b) respect the memory of their friend, and honour him by living hard.

Its a beautiful thing to honour the memory of someone you loved. My friends name was Meg, and her family have set up a trust in her name to support an orphanage in Nepal in her honour. I got goosebumps when they told me what they were doing. We had the first fundraising dinner about 3 weeks ago, and it was an incredible success. It was a dinner dance, but nearly everything was donated, from the food to the band and the venue. That was great because it meant that almost all the money went straight to the orphanage.

I went over to their place to help set up and get ready for the dinner (butter rolls, set tables that sort of thing) and it was really weird being there with her family, but without her.

I've been out to visit her folks before, but I'd not been there when her whole family was home. Megs brothers and sister are hilarious, and when they all get home on the farm together its just a joy to be around them. I leave with a sore stomach from laughing so hard! But I just kept expecting Meg to come through the door. I had a chat to her mum about it, and she felt the same. But we agreed. Meg was there with us, and she was happy to see us all there thinking of her, helping others. She was a wonderful person, and she would have been out there on the dance floor for sure!

Bloggy,

Sass.

PS: Wish I knew how to put links in. Will have to consult my friend the STUD.