All The Small Things

I must humbly apologise for my slackness in posting lately - I've been without internerd access for a little bit. Its been quite sucky actually.

So what has been going on I hear you ask? Well, as I'm tired, knackered actually, I shall give you the run down on the last three days in point form:

Friday:

• Phone call from lovely friends Mary and Tick Tock person, asking me to go to the pub after work with them for a beverage or three.
• Agreed. (Duh - this was so much a given I nearly didn't put it in!)
• Worked.
• Phone call from beautiful amazing incredible tall handsome funny old friend, who I hadn't seen in yonks, and invited him out to go to the pub and crash at mine.
• He agreed.
• Met Mary and Tick Tock person at the pub.
• Had a beverage.
• Becks (as Mary christened my old friend, in recognition of his resemblance to the soccer dude) arrives, more beverages.
• Pool, laughter, dancing and beverages.
• More beverages.
• Flirting with everyone.
• More beverages.
• At this point it seemed like a good idea to have a shot... so we had a shot, followed closely by another beverage.
• More, slightly wobbly flirting.

Nice or funny things that happened Friday evening:

• Mary pointed out lots of boys that she considered to be hot, and the Tick Tock person heard her (I think it was intentional on her part) and it all got a bit tense and amusing (because it wasn't me and I had had several beverages).
• Becks waltzed with me round the pool table.
• Gorgeous lad called my eyes "the most magical blue"
• Becks remarked that I was the "queen of the pub, they were all under your spell. You rule this place."
• Once we got home, Becks and I made an antipasto platter and a cup of tea and pigged out like grownup pissy people.
• There was a knock on the door, and when I opened it, there was a boy with a sword.
• Yup.
• A Sword. A no-shit-fair-dinkum sword.
• Gorgeous boy (see above eye comment) was ushered into my house by boy with sword, and I was charged with looking after him.
• I did.
• Not like that you dirty minded buggers!!

We stayed up till 6am, and I was knackered the next day.

When I woke up, Becks had gone, and it was rather awkward between myself and gorgeous boy. However, it was kind of nice too, as he confessed to liking me (and I have a soft spot roughly the size of Africa for him) so that was lovely.

Saturday:

• Wake up thinking that I really need to let go of the Dancing Man, because I don't have *that* feeling for him.
• Have slightly awkward breakfast with Gorgeous Boy, then drive him home.
• Head to footy.
• Watch Dancing Man and my little bro win!! (Yay!!)
• Timekeep for seniors game, which is an excellent way of both perving on the teams and avoiding Dancing Man.
• Think many, many times that I am both a bitch for wanting to break up with Dancing Man, and feel gutless for not doing it, and feel that I really can't break up with someone on less than 4 hours sleep, because I'd make a hash of it.
• Fall asleep on the desk at half time.
• Wake up with drool.
• Noice.
• Finish timekeeping and almost escape ground undetected by Dancing Man. Unfortunately, he was attracted by... well me 'cos I'm so dashed hot... and I had to say a very awkward goodbye to him.
• Babysat for friends.
• Put kids to bed and promptly fell asleep on couch.
• Woken up by return of Miss L and Mr C.
• Mr. C. comments that "You are the most beautiful woman... but gee whiz, you're not much to look at in the mornings are you!?"
• Ha bloody ha.
• "Seriously, you look like crap!"
• Thanks. A. Bunch.
• Recieve permission to sleep over, Mr. C. retrieves comfy doona.
• Snore, drool and look ugly.

Sunday:

• Ponder stupidity of sleeping on small 2 seater sofa, when I am clearly of a 3 seater sofa height.
• Realign vertabrae and musculature.
• Have breakfast with Miss L.
• Head home and get showered and changed.
• Ponder stupidity and detrimental effects of lack of sleep and excess of outings and alcohol, both on finances and face.
• Am glad that I don't have to look at me.
• Pop on sunnies.
• Fuck off. I know its winter, it was sunny, and my head hurt, OK?
• Whoa. Snappy much. Sorry.
• Where were we?
• Oh yeah.
• Drove to town, made appointment to see Dancing Man.
• Watched half of "Kinky Boots" with my lovely Dad. You should see this film, btw, if you haven't already. I liked it alot.
• Saw and broke up with Dancing Man. It was rather harder than I thought it would be. He's a really good person, and I like him a whole heap.
• Head back to get Nicky.
• Watch Big Brother and am totally crushed by the departure of David.
• Cheer that love really exists with the reuniting of David and Sharif. Awww. Ain't love grand etc. etc. etc.
• Hope Camilla wins.
• Drive home.
• Write completely uselessly incoherent blog entry.
• Promise to do better next time.
• And MUST write about Melbourne trip.
• Turns off computer.
• Snore, Drool, Look Ugly.

Fin.

I think we are not too far from the point where petroleum goes up to a price that I can't afford, where I have to purchase myself a pony and cart to get about.

I’d look quite dashing don’t you think? I can see me cantering about town in a trap, sporting a whip, yelling “Yee Haa” “Mush” “Whoa there Nelly” (My pony’s name would be Nelly).

I might even purchase a bonnet. A jolly blue bonnet, with a big bow tied under my chin. And one of those lacy umbrellas to keep the sun of my delicate complexion, and swat the wandering hands of grooms and blacksmiths and other horse associated folks.

And I’d take to wearing hoop skirts and saying “Thee” and “Whence” “Hitherto” and “Erstwhile” and other lovely old-fashioned words that nerds like me love. And I shall begin to write all my letters on vellum and seal them with wax and send them by post, on a steam ship.

And I’d cook scones, and tongue, or roasts with three veg all done in a big ol’ woodfired Aga. And I shall drink tea made from real tea leaves, brewed with a gum leaf, over a fire, with scantily clad shearers who will moderate their language because there’s a lady on the floor.

Man, I can’t wait for the petrol to go up and my new life to begin!!

Well, its been a rather tumultuous time in Sassville lately.

Things aren't going well with Mr. D. and that whole situation. I'll probably have more to say about this on Thursday evening, or soon thereafter.

In the Sass's Lovelife File, the Dancing Man is still on the scene, but I'm really feeling like he won't be for much longer. I had *that* conversation with him again this week - please don't call me, don't surprise visit me, don't text me incessantly. I'll see you when I can see you.

He sounded like he got it. I sincerely hope so. Dumping another one for being too clingy and nice would just make me feel like a bitch.

To be honest, I'm a bit sad and down and worried about how Thursday is going to go. So I'm going to leave this for a bit, and come back after its over, to fill you in on the INCREDIBLE trip that I had to Melbourne last week.

Much love,

Sass.

... Some Photographic Evidence...

Though whether it is for the prosecution or the defence is yet to be seen ;-)

As taken on the night of the Footy Ball, where I met my two suitors.

Obviously this was taken with a flash. It was quite dark in the room.

 

That helped, I think.

 

 

Batchelor Number One is still on the scene, and still being lovely. I asked him not to call me so much, and he's pretty much complied.

I've seen him a few times, and I have to say that I'm just really torn.

Part of me enjoys his company, and has a good time. He's kind, gentle. He makes me feel rather beautiful and special. I feel very secure somehow, in the fact that he really likes me, and wants nothing more than to be around me. Its nice to feel that another person thinks that you are the most wonderful thing since sliced bread.

But another part of me wants to run away from the attention that he lavishes on me. I don't want to feel his eyes constantly on me. I don't wish to hear that he thinks that I'm attractive. I don't want to have him constantly touching me. (And I do mean constantly.)

I asked him the other night to give me some space. To back off a bit, and not touch me so much, I was tired, and I needed some space.

His response was to immediately do as I had asked, and thank me for telling him how I was feeling.

For some reason, this made me really cranky. I mean, seriously, the fact that he was happy that I'd told him to back off, and he just sat there looking at me, was more irritating than his initial behaviour. In the end, I left.

Is it wrong for me to think "Where is your self respect man?"?

It feels as though he is depending on me, as if even his moving away from me was an act of dependance. I haven't seen him do anything without checking with me first.

I don't really feel much respect for Batchelor Number One. Thats a problem for me.

While I appreciate that he's trying to make me happy, and to be considerate, and be affectionate, that isn't what I want to see really. What I want is someone who knows who they are, and is just as happy with me as they are without me.

I guess I'm happy in myself and in my life, and I'm looking for someone in the same situation, who wants to be with me, not because I define them, or can dictate their behaviours, but because we complement one another and have mutual respect. Someone who has their own life, as I do, and wishes to share that, but maintain our own individual identities.

It all sounds a little Professor Higgins... "why can't a woman, be more like me?"

I'm not interested in just hooking up...

 

but we could have ice-cream.

 

 

I like ice-cream - what more can I say!

Been a while since I posted, and I apologise for it. I've been hellishly busy, away, and oft without internet access unfortunately.

So this post will be covering the basics, not all the good and wonderful things I've been doing lately.

Firstly, another wonderful catchup with my dear friend Mrs. Macca again last week, or was it the week before now? I can't remember! Anyway, we caught up, and we went to visit our dear friend Meg. How nice it is to be able to sit out at the cemetary with her, plonk down on her grave with a cuppa and have a chat with her about whats going on in our lives.

We were doing some things for Mrs. Macca's impending nuptuals to CK - which I am looking forward to with some excitement! I think that Meg was with us, helping us to select the perfect lines. I'm sure that she watches over our activities with much interest actually - laughing at some of the silly things that go on, our funny little worries and woes. She had such incredible perspective.

I had a date with batchelor #2 on Friday, which was interesting. Well, it was interesting in its lack of interesting-ness perhaps. I was looking forward to it, I even made a total effort and got dressed up and everything. I was charming and witty and asked lots of open ended questions. And it was hard work. Really hard work.

We went to dinner, he had made reservations. (Points awarded) He watched TV over my shoulder throughout the meal. (Points deducted). Why ask me out if you want to watch TV? You can do that at home! And I'm really quite good company - I can't remember anyone ever watching TV over my shoulder before. That's a first.

It wasn't even that there was anything really WRONG with the evening, (except for the TV thing, and that was fleeting) it was more that there was absolutely no spark. We went from dinner to the movies, where we found out that the movie we wanted to watch was an hour away from starting. So we went and had dessert, to kill some time.

Longest. Hour. Of. My. Life.

Really, it takes two to have a conversation. It's hard yards to talk to someone who doesn't understand that basic principle.

So we went to the movies. No popcorn. No drinks. We were too full from dinner. We saw Pirates of the Carribean, which was actaully really good, and excellent as a choice, because it was so long! By the time it got out it was 12.15am, and I could say that I was tired and needed to go home.

Which I wasn't, for the record.

So he walked me back to my car, said goodnight, and off he went.

I assumed that because he didn't go in for the goodnight kiss, or say "Lets get together again soon" or anything similar, that he'd had the same experience of the night as me, and didn't wish to repeat it.

I was wrong. I went to the game on Saturday, and up he came. Can I give you a call during the week to catch up?

What could I say?? He'd bought his mates over with him, I couldn't knock him back in front of them, that'd be awful. So I just kindof mumbled Ok and got the hell out of there.

So he texted me that night, to see if he could call me, and then again to let me know the score of the game. Two texts in the space of two hours. I tell you, there should be a phone licence. You only get a mobile if you can text responsibly. He knew I was going out, so why text me? I was at a birthday party out of phone range, so I didn't get his texts until I was on my way home, and it was too late to call him then anyways.

I'm going to have to tell him that I'm really not interested in going out again. Any advice on how to do this would be most appreciated. I feel so silly, because I really don't know how he could have enjoyed himself enough to want to do it again - I had the most dull time. I didn't think this would be an issue!

Tonight I had Mary and the Tick Tock person round for dinner (yeah, I know.) and I was talking to them about it, their response was:

"You were bored??" (Mary)

"Yup." (Me)

"Shit, he must have been boring!" (Tick Tock person)

What can I say, I'm easily amused. Most of the time, I'll have a good time regardless of the company or activity involved. It's an attitude thing. But I really struggled this night. I just didn't have fun.

Having those two round for dinner was a laugh. We cooked, which was fun, and then we ate, then we cleaned up and played cards. They're a funny pair, not "really" dating. But he fancies her like crazy, and she him.

Its a bit weird, seeing them together. I wondered if it would bother me, but it doesn't. I'm over him. Didn't think it would happen so quickly, but his behaviour around Mary is enough to turn anyone off!!

I'm going out on Thursday with Batchelor #1, the dancing man, and that should be good - I had a chat to him about the constant ringing and texting, and he's backed right off. I'm glad about that, because he's very good company really, and I did have fun when we went out last time.

In other news, I'm knackered.

Its beginning to worry me a bit.

I'm getting tired earlier and earlier. Its not like me. I am usually a night time person, I can go to bed late, and I'm fine.

This last week or so, I find I'm getting tired by about 10pm, and I'm still tired when I wake up at 8 or 9. Its rediculous. It's a little frightening.

And on that note, I'm tired. Exhausted. And I'm off to bed.

Perhaps my next post will be a little more coherent!

Telephones.

They've improved our lives in so many ways, yet at the moment they seem to be the complete bain of my existance.

Firstly, and most irritating of all: Mr. D. and the Speakerphone.

The man has apparently lost the ability to hold the telephone up to his ear. I haven't seen him in person in what... two weeks... so there is a potential explanation in that he may have had both of his arms amputated by the harpie that he calls his fiancee.

(Yes, Shell shall now be known as the Harpie. I do believe it suits her. And one must have an outlet, mustn't one? I'm feeling particularly bitter this evening. Bear with me, the reason is coming...)

So tonight Mr. D. rang to speak to Nicky. No worries, they have their chat, and as they are about to hang up, I say I need to speak to Daddy, and Nicky gives me over the phone.

"Hello, how are you?"

"Hello, fine thanks."

"Sorry, I just wanted to talk about a few things with you."

"Yeah, what?"

"Well, for a start I went into the Dept. ICOST, and its going to take a couple of weeks to sort out the payments and stuff. So I wanted to make sure that you've rung in and changed all the details at your end."

"Yeah, we have."

"Righto, well I just wanted to check, because if you hadn't you'll end up with a debt. And I don't want you to get into trouble."

I can hear the Harpie... not sure who she's talking to, its a bit indistinct.

"What else?"

"Well, Nicky's been saying things like "Mum and Dad's room" and I just wanted to have a talk to you about that."

I can hear the Harpie in the background talking again. I begin to wonder if she's listening to our conversation. Its not echo-y... so I don't think we're on speakerphone...

"She calls the Harpie either Shell or Stepmum" says Mr. D.

"Well, while she's been here she's referred to her as Mum a couple of times, "Mum and Dad's room" "I went with Mum and Dad" and I just don't think that thats right. I mean, I wouldn't let her call someone else Dad. You only have one mum or dad."

"Yeah, well its up to Nicky what she calls her."

"Well, no, I think that its something that we can help her with. I think it would be nice if you encouraged her to say Shell all the time, or something else. I mean your (half) brothers call your mum Auntie Vi, not Mum. So maybe we could come up with something else like that? I just kind of think its a little bit... disrespectful almost. She's only got one Mum."

The harpie has raised her voice now, and I can make out what she's saying. Its not pleasant. She's telling me off. "Its none of your business Sass, what she calls me, disrespectful my arse, you can keep your opinions to yourself" and so on.

"Am I on speakerphone Mr. D.?"

"Yes."

*Sigh* I don't even bother asking him to pick it up.

The Harpie is still going on in the background.

"Shell, I'm talking to Mr. D., not you."

Raised angry bitter spiteful hateful Harpie carryon in the background. "Well I'm part of this too Sass, and I have a right to be part of this conversation. You have to talk to me."

I ignore her and keep addressing Mr. D.

"Mr. D., what time on Tuesday?"

"5pm."

"No worries, and thanks for letting Nicky come home for the party, she had a great time."

"No worries. Bye"

"Bye."

The harpie kept up throughout this final exchange. I wonder if its the pregnancy hormones making her behave in such an unpleasant way?

Throughout this conversation, Mr. D. was actually very pleasant. He sounded as if he was taking on board what I was saying, and I wasn't being horrible about it, or bitchy, but I really do think that a child only has ONE mum or dad. It's not a title that can be used by mulitple people in a childs life. Thats just confusing and wrong. I would NEVER allow Nicky to call another man dad. She's only got one dad, and he's excellent.

Its not that I'm worried about her replacing me, or anything like that - I'm Nicky's mum, and there isn't anything that can change that. I just think it is disrespectful to me as her mother to encourage her to call someone else mum.

I hope Mr. D. is able to agree with me on this, after all, it is something that his family has had to deal with before, and they have gone the route of choosing a different name, so that's got to be a good precedent right?

What do you think?

 

Second Phone Drama - The Man with a Mobile.

Men are strange creatures. So are women. Women have trained men to pursue them. To chase, lavish with affection, and generally just hang about like lapdogs.

I DON'T LIKE THIS BEHAVIOUR.

Not one little bit. It's annoying. It assumes that I have nothing to do with every waking moment than recieve insipid text messages, take telephone calls, and gaze into his eyes.

And lets face it, I have lots of other things going on right now. I'm busy.

I HAVE A LIFE PEOPLE.

I want a man who will call when he say's he's going to call. Occasionally, its nice to get a call that you aren't expecting. I'm not that hard to get along with really.

But I want a man who understands that if I say, "I'll see you on Saturday", what I mean is, I'll see you on Saturday. If these plans are made on a Wednesday, then I really don't need to talk to him three times a day on the days in between. Once, maybe. Twice at a push. But three times every day? No. Sorry. Don't need it.

Don't need text messages every couple of hours throughout the day (yes. literally.). Don't need to be called, just to see if we can possibly get together sooner than Saturday.

Because IF I COULD HAVE GOTTEN TOGETHER SOONER, I would have said that, and arranged our next date accordingly, wouldn't I?

*Sigh*

He's a nice boy, the dancing, tall, funny one. But he's driving me around the bend, up the wall, and then back round the bend again. I'm doing circuits.

I like him, I do. I would like to see him again. I just want to be left the hellski alone inbetween times.

And I have a date with the other one on this coming Friday - I can only hope that I can get batchelor number one to settle the heck down before then. I'm just not interested in having this person constantly in my face. And I sure as hell hope the other one isn't going to be the same way.

Harsh?

 

How I wish I didn't have to deal with telephones.

Maybe tomorrow I'll just turn mine off and leave the other one off the hook.