All The Small Things

JOY!

To update from my last post, my darling wonderful boy changed his mind, and didn't drink drive. He agreed to allow me to drive him home, but we overslept (and yes, we were sleeping) so much that by the time he was ready to go he was OK to drive.

We had a long conversation before he left on this subject, and I am pleased to report that he has agreed that from now on he will plan ahead or let me drive him home.

He said that he's going to call me Sass Kissinger from now on.

Now all I knew about Mr. Kissinger was that he was Secretary of State in the US around the time of the cold war.

I said this to GM, and he say's, yeah, thats right. He stopped Iran from blowing up Syria.

(Now that I've done a bit more research in order to not sound like a couplete retard should the subject ever arise again, I can also inform you that Mr. Kissinger was an ace negotiator and won a nobel peace prize in 1973. So I am going to take the Kissinger comment as a compliment, though I rather think he meant that I was a bit hardnosed in my negotiations... Also, may I add how STOKED I am that I'm dating a man who makes intelligent comments like that. Not particularly stoked that it reveals gaping holes in my own knowledge, but life would be rather boring if we all knew the same stuff, wouldn't it.)

But I digress.

Dancing

Saturday night saw me dolled up in a beautiful dress, wearing the brightest of red lipstick, and giving cheek from behind the bar of a rock and roll ball. Absolutely fabulous night, and it made me want to run out and immediately sign up for dance classes.

After initially declining offers from the punters to get up and shake my groove thing, in the end, the music and their persistance won out, and I was escorted onto the dance floor by two lovely gentlemen. They twirled and swirled and twisted me all over the place, and it was incredible. It isn't as hard as it looks either.

Alas, the night ended all too soon for me, as I had to leave to attend a birthday party with my lovely GM. So at 11.30pm I up stumps and drove for an hour into the mountains to the home of GM's cousin.

Which leads us very neatly to...

Disconnection

I arrived at the party at 1am, with 30kms of fuel left in my car. I considered driving to town to fill the tank, but I figured that I'd only be adding an hour to my trip by doing that, and I had enough to get me there. My plan was to get petrol the next morning, before driving GM home. He was supposed to have gone up with his parents you see, so that they could go home early, I could meet him there, and we could share a car home the next day. But when I got there I found out he'd taken his car up.

I don't really have anything nice to say about the party. No-one there knew many other people, and so each little group clung together as if to a liferaft. I spent most of my time sitting under the heater, periodically attempting conversation with a passing raft, with very little success. There was only one person in the whole party who appeared interested in speaking to me, and he was sporting a dressing gown as a coat over a suit. Interesting guy. He didn't quite fit in either, but he seemed to be able to bluff his way through. I think the beer had something to do with it.

At the time, I was really angry that they all seemed to be such snobby bastards. How hard is it to make conversation with someone? Say Hi, how are you? Or answer the same question when it is posed of you?

But the more I reflect on it, the more I wonder if I'm just not meant to mix in those sorts of circles.

I had an incredibly fun time at the dance, and I knew only one or two people. I made conversation all night with complete strangers, had supper with a group I'd only just met, danced with men I didn't know, and had an all round cracker time.

At the party, I knew one or two people. Yet the result was so different. I had a terrible time.

The rock and rollers are a mixed bag. They accept anyone, and there are all different shapes and sizes, they don't care. They take you exactly as they find you. They don't discriminate on age, fashion, hairstyle, weight, or social skills. They are just out to have a good time, and if you are too, then honey, join the party. That made me feel really comfortable.

This would be in marked contrast to the people at the other party. The young and the beautiful. The popular kids. The kids who will in so few years become the adults who think of nothing but how big their house is, or how expensive their car. Who will spend their whole lives trying to impress others. They could come off a production line, their spiked, gelled and carefully mussed up hair, their itty bitty blonde women folk, their tall dark broodingly handsome menfolk. The Ken's and Barbie's of the modern age. I don't fit in. I was waiting for them to criticize me, my clothes, my hair, my face.

I sound bitter don't I.

I probably am a little. I'll never know what its like to be one of those people, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who feels that way. But I'm more bitter that I had to waste my time being around them, I'd rather have stayed at the party with the regular people, and had a good time!

The odd thing is that GM fits so easily into that world. But GM fits in everywhere - thats just GM.

Subzero Temperatures

So when the heater went out at 2.30am in sub zero temps, I thought I'd had enough and let GM know that I was going to have a lie down in the car. I was thinking happy thoughts of the doona that I keep in the boot, and getting away from the wind chill factor. 

The plan was that because I wasn't drinking, I would drive GM, myself and two of his friends home to their place, and we'd sleep there. So I had to wait until they were ready to go before I could go anywhere.

So I said to GM that I was going down to the car, and he said he'd see me shortly. It was so very very very cold, you have no idea. I was shivering. I piled everything I could find on top of me and wrapped up in the doona. I froze my tooshy off.

When the clock hit 4am - that would make it 5am, because Daylight Savings had started, I made a decision.

I was getting more and more pissed off about having to wait, and colder and colder and colder. I thought bugger it. I'm going to the motel. (It was on the same road, two doors up, and I'd stayed there before. They had electric blankets. This thought was dominating my mind.)

So I drove up to the motel, walked up to the night bell, and my phone rang. It was GM. They'd been walking down to the car when I left. Whoops. Could I come back? Yeah, why the hell not. Lets not compound the impression of complete nutjobiness that I was giving his friends by cracking it and leaving them stranded. (Please note that I did rather think they were going to stay until the sun rose, at which time I would have been snugly asleep in my electric blanket heated soft and fluffy bed and at that point I couldn't give less of a shit about them being stranded because I'd be asleep and warm.)

So I went back and picked them up, then we drove to his friends house.

Where there was no bedding. Or bed.

So we slept on the floor, covered by a sleeping bag. The house was not heated. I would say that without sharing body heat with GM, I would have been as cold as I was in the car. As it was, I got to periodically thaw bits of me against GM, while the rest of me refroze. If you can imagine a frozen person (ie me) on a rotisserie, in a deep freezer, but with one of those one bar electric heaters that you used to get in bathrooms on one side of the room.  Thats how I felt. I would say that it sucked, but it couldn't suck, because if it tried its lips and tongue would get stuck to it because it was so frozen.

GM and I had a long conversation about the evenings proceedings. I explained how I felt about the people, and not fitting in. He said he thought I fitted in fine, and he thought I was just tired when I went to the car.

I had been thinking that he's so very comfortable in that kind of group, and I'm not. I was seeing this whole future in front of us where either he goes to things on his own, or I go and feel like the odd man out. I'd hate that. I said to him, "Are you sure that I'm what you want? I'm not a party girl, I never have been."

He got a bit fired up (shock) and told me that of course I'm what he wants, and not to be silly. He pulled me in so close, and buried his head in my neck. He said he loves me and he wants to be with me. If he didn't he wouldn't spend his day thinking about me, and looking forward to talking to me and seeing me. He told me that the last three months have been the best he's ever had, and he wouldn't know what to do if we weren't together.

Obviously, I feel the same way (and told him so).

He also said if I just relaxed I'd be much better off, and that I think too much about what other people are thinking about me. He thinks I'm insecure.

Oh, dear me. He's uncovered my secret! LOL

I am feeling completely pissed off and disappointed right now.

I feel like telling GM to go and stick the whole thing up his stupid pigheaded arse.

DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD DICKHEAD

 

(That did make me feel a bit better actually.)

 

The silly bugger is in town tonight for his little brothers birthday. Awesome. We're all going to the pub. Awesome. It should be fun, few drinks, bit of pool, have a laugh.

GM was then going to come home with me and snuggle up, and probably have a lovely time all through the night - which I was really looking forward to because my GM is AMAZING in so many and varied and athletic sorts of ways.

However.

Tonight he gave me a call and asked where I was. I was at home. I said, shall I come and get you then, so you don't have to bring your car into town? No, he's already in town. Ok then.

So he came up to my house.

And I ask what time he has to start in the morning. Oh, probably six-ish.

Oh. So shall we take your car home then, and I'll drive you out in the morning?

Nah. She'll be right.

Well, no actually. She won't be.

Yeah, it's the next day, she'll be right.

If you stop drinking at 2am, then get up at six, that isn't the next day, thats four hours.

Don't worry about it.

Look, I'm happy to take your car home and drive you out in the morning, its no hassle at all.

She'll be right, don't worry about it.

And so on.

 

Eventually, I said this. Right. Heres the thing. You have choices, you can take your car home now, or do any number of things with it. I can drive you home in the morning. If you're choosing now, when you are completely sober, to drink drive in the morning, I don't want any part of it. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you after leaving my house drunk. I don't want to be responsible for you losing your license, or hurting yourself or someone else.

So if you choose to drink tonight to a point where you will be over the limit tomorrow, you can sleep at one of your mates houses. I won't have you drink driving from here. I won't take that responsibility.

You worry too much. It'll be right.

I'm not worrying too much. I'm not worried on a normal day that something is going to happen to you, I don't worry that your tyres will blow out, or that an animal will jump out at you, or that you'll roll off the side of the road. I'm not a worry wart. But if you choose to drive when you know that you are over the limit, then there is something to worry about.

Righto then. I'll sleep at such-and-such's house then.

Fine. Its up to you. Its your choice.

 

We proceeded to have a conversation where I asked him if he was annoyed with me (which he obviously was but wouldn't say so) and then he's headed off to the pub. I needed to have dinner - and write this to shut up Mrs. Macca and CK... and to vent my anger - so I'm heading down a little later.

Pretty pissed off though.

I said to him, of all the things that we could argue about, I never thought we'd argue about this. You nearly killed yourself, I thought you'd learned from that. I didn't think you'd do it anymore.

Ah, don't worry, she'll be right darl.

 

She'll be bloody right. I just hope I'M not right. I hope that he doesn't kill himself or anyone else, or lose his license.

I have never felt more like putting in a call to the police and telling them to breath test a certain area at at certain time than I do right now. I'm not a vindictive bitch, so I'm not going to do that. But if policemen are psychic, there will be some shit going down tomorrow.

Drink drivers are the scum of the earth. Why does this have to be the one thing wrong with my in-every-other-way-absolutely-incredibly-wonderful GM?????? Sometimes, life sucks the big one.

Last night I had the most delicious conversation with my wonderful GM.

I guess it started when my lovely man asked me if I'd told Nicky about us. (Why he asked this is a bit beyond me, I get the feeling that he ruminates about things during the day and I know he likes to know just how things stand so that he can go about things the right way. In a lot of ways he's very proper, and even a little old fashioned I think, in a deliciously gentlemanly kind of way.)

I had, and Nicky and I have had several conversations about it. I told him that my main concern has been to reassure her that there aren't going to be any big changes at our place. Things changed so quickly for her when Mr. D. and Shell got together, and her whole world turned upside down. GM and I have no intention of rushing into doing anything, and there isn't going to be any disruptions to Nicky's life as a result of our relationship.  Nicky and I had a chat about how quickly things had changed with Mr. D. and Shell. She got a bit distressed and talked about how she didn't like moving and having to share a room with Shells boy until they moved, and she said that she didn't want to leave our little house.

I let Nicky know that we aren't going anywhere, and GM isn't going to move in here. The only difference for Nicky is going to be that GM will come around for dinner sometimes. Nicky and I are still going to have lots of time with just the two of us, and I told her how very very much I love her, and how I'm trying to do the best that I can for her.

"But we can still go to see GM on the farm, can't we mum?" I said of course we could. She seemed quite happy after that, and we had a little cuddle.

I explained to GM how important it was to me that we move slowly for Nicky, and let her know that everything is stable and OK. He agreed that it was important that we do that.

He said that he'd seen a particular DVD at the shops that he thought she might like, but he didn't think that we had a DVD player, so he didn't get it. (We don't have a DVD player, so this was a good move on his part.)

I love that he thinks about us like that, in his day to day life, and particularly that he thinks about Nicky. He's not just pretending to be nice to her for my sake, he really puts a lot of thought into how he treats her, and what he can do to win her over. He's worried that she won't like him I think, but she thinks he's wonderful. To this end, GM asked if Nicky liked him - she thinks you're wonderful darling. Thats good, he say's. "Do you like her?" I asked, "'Course I do." he say's. "Really?" I said, "I know its a lot to take on a partner with a child."

"I never really thought about it like that. I just love you, and Nicky's part of you. I love you, and I love Nicky like one of my own."

(How beautiful is my man? This was just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard. But of course, he'd left himself wide open for my response...)

"Exactly how many children do you have hon?"

 

 

 

(the answer is none, obviously)

HA! You nearly thought he had a flaw, didn't you!

Is there anything better on television at the moment than the Carlton "Flashbeer" Ad?

 

Tonight I hung my new curtains in the loungeroom, and I'm writing this in order to avoid doing all the other things I really should be doing... hey, at least I'm honest!

Its all getting a bit on top of me at the moment, to be perfectly honest. I've been trying so hard for so long to keep everything together, and it all seems to be falling apart.

In my lounge awaiting my attentions at the moment are the books for the Kinder, three baskets of folding, a wilting houseplant, a pile of mending belonging to my brother that has been there for far far far too long, and I'm sitting on the biggest (and most comfortable) problem of all, being my new lazy-boy armchair. It doesn't fit in the lounge. I'm going to have to rearrange everything, and probably put the rocking chair in the spare bedroom in order to fit this thing in. And after the big weekend, and a full on couple of days yesterday and today, I'm just buggered.

Thats why I'm not going into the kitchen right now either. The dishes from dinner are sitting there, and I know if I poke my head in that door they will all stare at me accusingly until I remove my jewellry and wash them, and then they shall look at me with a little more respect but they'll still be complaining because I won't dry them off or put them away immediately. The dishes will then have a conversation with the small but growing pile of mail on the table about what a lazy sod I am. The toaster will then chime in that it used to live in the cupboard, before I got so lazy that I couldn't be bothered bringing it out and putting it away every day. "I liked that cupboard," the toaster will sob, "I had friends there. Now I see nothing but the cobwebs that she hasn't cleaned from the top of the windowsills." The microwave and the kettle will then have a sook that its been ages since they were taken apart and cleaned, and although I will argue that I haven't used them and they aren't dirty or in need of cleaning they won't believe me, and then the stove will chime in, and... well... I'd just rather not get the appliances started.

 

Today I bought a hammer, and put up the curtains in Nicky's room too. And I did cook dinner from scratch, and DO the three loads of washing, so its not like I'm completely lazy, despite what my toaster thinks.

 

But then... maybe I should just bite the bullet and go and do the blinking dishes.

This weekend was rather special. I got to spend it with some of the most powerful, intelligent, gifted, gentle, spiritual, beautiful amazing women that I've ever met.

Some of these women I've known for a while, others were new. All of them were an inspiration, and I walked away from it all thinking about how I can do so much better than I have been lately.

 

Some things that came out of the weekend for me personally, some things that I don't want to forget.

1) No one can take your power away, unless you let them.

2) ITS OK TO BE POLITICAL.

3) Politicians are just like you and me, the only difference is that they are prepared to stand up.

4) Nothing changes if no-one has the vision and drive to see and create a new way.

5) How you see yourself isn't necessarily how others see you. Maybe you're a gum tree, maybe you're a flashy flower, maybe you're a cactus. Know what you are, know what you're strengths are, know what your weaknesses are. Be the best that you can be.

 

One of the interesting things that happened during the weekend was that we were talking about blogs and I said that I kept one. One of the ladies there asked me why I did that.

And I really couldn't answer the question adequately. I don't know why it is that I do this.

My generic answer is that I always used to keep a diary, and now that I type faster than I write, this is easier. But that is a trite answer, and this lady called me on it. I don't like not knowing why I do something. I've been thinking about it a fair bit over the last couple of days though, and I still haven't been able to come up with a decent answer.

Perhaps I'm a closet extrovert, and this gives me the attention that I want? I'm a little apprehensive about this as an answer, because if I were that much of an extrovert, surely I'd write something a little bit more interesting, or host this blog somewhere where it would get more traffic, or do any one of the numerous things that can be done to get more attention to the thing. I don't really care how much traffic I get here - its inconsequential.

But at the same time, I enjoy the comments from people who do stop by to visit. I enjoy this way of keeping in touch with the friends that I've made here on-line, and those very select few whom I know in the "real world" who have an all access pass to my inner thoughts and personal personal life.

I guess my driving motivation is that I really enjoy writing in any form, and this is something that I can do that makes me feel better at the end of the day. Whether I write complete rubbish full of grammatical errors and foul language, or if it's a more well thought out missive, I just get a buzz from getting my thoughts out in words. I mean this isn't the only time that I write, but it's become one of the only places that I write purely for my own pleasure. Where I have complete and utter freedom to write in whatever manner I choose, on any subject that takes me, and it feels like flying to be able to do that.

Now before you start thinking that I'm one of those bloggers who thinks that they're going to make it big as an author, forget it. I'm not saying that I'm the worlds best writer, or even that I'm any good at it at all. I am saying that I enjoy it, and it brings me joy. Perhaps that's why I do it.

But then, why do I need to do it in the public arena?

I still don't know why I do this, but I'm going to keep thinking about it.

 

The other thing that this lovely lady asked me was if she could have the address of the blog so that she could have a look. I said no. Probably not particularly gracefully, I'm sorry to report. Again, I'm not sure why I said no. Someone suggested that its because I keep my secrets here. I said, no, I really don't have any secrets. And I don't. I used to. But not any more.

Interesting, the place where I learned that it was OK to live without my secrets and the challenges and opportunities that were given to me during that journey were given to me by this lady. So why would I not let her see this?

Well, that one's easy, isn't it.  I put so much rubbishy tripe up here that I'd rather her not see it! I am working (in the real world) to become one of the next generation of powerful, intelligent, politically aware rural woman. If one of the women that I look up to read this, I cringe to think at what they would make of me. Seriously. Look at the last couple of posts. We have me whining about my inability to use a computer and communicate effectively with my "hot" boyfriend with whom I like to "pash on". Oh, and then an edifying post on shopping and fashion. But there is always the balancing posts on what "Mr. D, the Shrew, the Brat and the Spawn" have been up to.

Maybe one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, I'll have the courage to give her the URL.

 

So now, enough soul searching, on with some housekeeping.

GM:

GM and I had our very first fight this weekend just gone. Saturday morning, 6am. And amusing in a way, because it isn't an argument that I thought we'd EVER have to have. You see, we'd met up the night before at 1.30am, after I'd been out with the girls (more on that later) and when I met up with my darling boy, he was so drunk he'd passed out in a chair in my next door neighbours back yard. This didn't really excite me to start with - I like a drink as much as the next person, as well you know, but I don't drink like GM drinks. In fact, I don't think I've ever met anyone who drinks like GM and his friends do. So not really that impressed to find him in that state, and I decided that it was probably better if we went home. A lovely young fella who is a regular club GM-er helped me to get him back to my place, and GM woke up enough to have a chat with the both of us outside, before his friend departed, and we went in to bed on our own. By the time we got to bed, it was 2am, and it would be fair to say that GM was still completely maggotted.

So imagine my horror when his alarm goes off at 6am, and he's going to drive back to the farm. Not even on his own, he's taking two others in the car with him.

You can't do that GM. You'll still be over the limit. You'll lose your license. I'll drive you.

No. I'm fine. There aren't any coppers out this time of the day anyway. I'll be fine.

Basically if you just rearrange those words over and over again, thats our argument.

He drove home, and I think we were probably equally annoyed with each other.

 

That night, he invited Nicky and I out for dinner. His parents are away, so we were up at their place looking after his little sister, his little brother, and two of his little brothers friends. It was like playing mum and dad to a really big noisy poo splattered family with appalling table manners and drinking issues.

GM and I had a chat out by the BBQ as he was cooking dinner, while Nicky was inside playing and watching cartoons with the other "kids".

I said "You were annoyed with me this morning, for not wanting you to drive, weren't you?"

"Yeah," he say's "I don't like being nagged."

"I'll do you a deal then."

"Whats that?"

"You don't drink drive, and I won't nag you."

He laughed.

"I'm serious darlin'. You can't do that. What would happen if you lost your license. You'd lose everything, your new job, you wouldn't be able to work on the farm properly, you wouldn't be able to come and see me. It'd ruin everything."

"How else am I going to get home? I can't leave my truck at your place."

"Well, we'll just have to do it better next time. I'll come get you the night before, you can drink as much as you like, then I'll drive you home in the morning in time for the girls."

"That just puts you out though."

"I'd rather do that than have you drive in the morning."

I am just still shaking my head that someone as bright as he is could come so close to killing themselves so many times, but particularly the last time, and still think that there isn't anything wrong with driving home tanked.

 

THE GIRLS NIGHT OUT:

Friday night I went out with the girls, for a very sensible ladies dinner. We got all dressed up, had a fantabulous guest speaker over dinner, and had a lovely meal in one of the back rooms of our local hotel.

After dinner, there were five of us left, and we decided to have a game of pool. It was probably about 10pm at this stage. We played a regular game, then the cook from the hotel taught us how to play "Killer" which was quite amusing considering our complete lack of skill. Killer usually gives you three lives, we had to extend it to six.

There were some guys drinking in the bar who were staying the night, and the publican said to us that if we wanted to play a game of Kelly Pool with everyone involved, he'd put the table on for free. I got them to get the stereo pumping, and we had an absolute blast.

The young gentleman behind the bar had been calling me darlin' all night, just being a funny bugger and whilst we were playing he pulled a stool up beside him so that I would sit down. So I did, and we were chatting away. He say's "I'm sure I know you from somewhere darlin'. Where'd you go to school?" I told him, and it turns out that not only did we go to the same school, he was a year below me, and he used to date my little sister (the one who's overseas at present). He's also engaged to the publicans daughter. So that made me relax a bit, and we were chatting away like old friends about school and people that we knew in common.

The girls and I had an absolute blast, we were playing pool, dancing around, laughing, and my very straightlaced girlfriend said a swearword (shock!) and made some ball jokes, both of which just made my night. The publican shut the pub about midnight, but we all stayed on until 1.30am, when the girls decided that their hubbies had probably done enough babysitting for the night, and they headed for home.

GM had called me several times throughout the night, to see if I would come around to the other pub, where he was hanging out with some of his mates. Because my girlfriends NEVER go out, I decided to stay with them and catch up with him after. I explained that to him, and said I'd catch up with him after. So when I'd finished with the girls, I walked round to the other pub to see if I could find him. He wasn't there, but I was met by a bunch of his mates, and we all walked up to the party at my next door neighbours together, the rest being, as they say, history.

 

So, thats about all I've got for tonight. I'm pretty tired, but I shall endevour to post tomorrow.

HA! I found it!!! This is the post that I wrote the other day, turns out that I changed the date on it before I hit post, so it ended up in August... par for the course really. I'm just stoked that it didn't completely disappear! 

 

So last night I went out to see my beautiful boy.

The first thing that he said to me was "Are you OK today, you sounded so upset last night. I'm so sorry about your friend darlin'" 

And in a very gentle not nearly as blunt as this kind of way, I said to him that I'd been confused by his behaviour the night before, and that I didn't understand why he hadn't come to see me. I said that I felt disappointed that he hadn't done that.

He apologised profusely, and explained that he wasn't sure that I wanted him there, because he thought that I was upset with him about getting his new job, which means that he'll be away during the week. He said if he'd known that I wanted him, he would have been there in a heartbeat.

Isn't it silly how we misunderstand one another sometimes. He assumed that when he saw me in the street and told me about his new job, that I was upset at him for taking it, when in fact I was upset because I'd just found out about my girlfriend. I should have told him at the time, but I thought he looked so happy that I didn't want to put a damper on it for him.

So we came to the conclusion that from now on if I need him, or he needs me, we will say that straight up and not assume that the other person knows.

 

We had a really big talk about his new job. I'm not stoked that it will take him out of town for the entire week, and that he'll be a really long way away, generally in Melbourne. I'm going to miss him terribly, and I won't get to see him nearly as much as I do now, which will just suck bottom bigtime. However, he's feeling the same way, so that makes me feel a bit better.

I couldn't understand why he wanted to take the job. He loves milking, he loves the farm. Why would he want to go working in the city (albeit in an outdoors job)?

The answer is right outside your door my friends.

The drought is already biting. Feed has gone up. Water is being trucked in. Cattle are being sold off in record numbers, and you can expect that soon enough we will have a shortage of meat, and milk and it will be of a very poor quality. There has been no harvest this year, so there will be no feed when the grass dies off. Those lucky farmers like GM who have a little will be rationing to avoid paying the inflated prices for feed.

GM has taken the new job to try and offset the costs of the drought.

"I'm not doing it for me, I'm doing it for this place. We'll be needing the money soon enough."

What can we do? We talked a bit about how its going to make life difficult for us, not seeing each other as much. He'll be working on the farm when he isn't on the road.

"It won't be forever darlin'. And I'm only a phonecall away. I'll message you everyday, and I'll see you on the weekends. I love you, more than you know. I'm gonna miss you."

So here, upon my head, sits a brand new and not altogether comfortable hat. Its that of the patiently waiting ever supportive girlfriend. I daresay it will grow on me.

After we'd talked about the farm, and the costs, and his reasons for taking the job, I asked him if he'd told his family that that was why he was doing it. "I reckon they'd have figured it out."

They haven't though. His brother was telling me when I arrived about the job, and how GM'd been offered even more hours than he'd initially thought. He said he thought GM was tired of farming and needed a break from it. He said he couldn't blame him, he'd been working on the farm since he was 18, and not taken a break from it. This morning I was talking to his mum, and she was saying it was great to see him getting out and doing something new, because he must be so sick of working so hard on the farm.

Its not my place to tell them, but God, someone should. He loves that place. He loves everything about that life, and he's giving up what he loves for the next six months or more, to help keep it going.

 

I love him so much.

 

Prepare yourselves for many posts bemoaning my loneliness and lovelorn-ness. I don't know what I'm going to tell Nicky, she loves him to pieces.

 

In related news, my car packed it in this morning outside GMs house. Ace. Also, because I had let my RACV membership lapse, I had to pay double to rejoin, so that they would come out. Yay! Hooray for being overcharged because of an overabundance of optimism regarding the reliability of your vehicle!

How bizarre.

I wrote a massive post yesterday, and it appears to have disappeared.

Now I'll have to redo the whole thing.

Shit.

Yesterday I found out that a girlfriend of mine was killed in a car accident on the weekend.

This beautiful, vivacious woman, in the prime of her life, with everything going for her, gone.

 

Naturally, the news of her death floored all of us who knew her. I was devastated, and wandered through the day with a look on my face that must have been bad, because I was repeatedly asked, "Gee Sass, whats happened?".

I ran into GM down the street, and he just said Hi, guess what? I've got a new job, I start tomorrow so I'll be out of town for the rest of the week. I'll call you tonight.

A quick kiss, and then he was gone.

When he rang me last night, we talked for a while, I told him about my friend, explained how upset I was. He says "Is Nicky there?" I said yes, we talked some more, then he said, "Well darl, I might see if I can come in tomorrow night, but it'll depend on if I'm working. I'll give you a call and let you know."

I said I was going to be busy, because there are a bunch of us getting together for drinks for our friend.

Oh, he say's. Righto then, I'll see you Friday.

 

Now I ask you - and I've been asking everyone round here - what would you have done in that situation?

 

*** And before Mrs Macca writes in that he's a tosspot wanker and I should ditch him, the general concensus round here is that this lack of support and non-visiting immediately to render a hug and comfort is very very very unlike our boy. So I'm going to have a talk to him and figure out what the hell was going on in this situation. Perhaps he'd been drinking and couldn't drive in? This may explain the question about Nicky being home - I can't drive out to see him if I have Nicky asleep in bed, or alternatively he may have taken on board that I don't want him sleeping over when she's there. He had been at a funeral himself earlier in the day, and its possible he'd been drinking at the wake. I feel like I'm clutching at straws to explain this odd behaviour. Ergh. I'll keep you posted anyway. But he's not a tosspot wanker. I hope. Dear God, please don't let me have fallen in love with another tosspot wanker. Please. Fuck I'm pathetic. ***

Today I went shopping, and while this isn't usually something that really does it for me, today I really enjoyed it.

I got three pairs of short / cargo / cropped pant type things. I did attempt to find pairs that didn't make my bum look like it should have its own postcode, and I'm happy to report that I think I managed it. Yay for bum disguising pantaloons!

I also got this adorable cropped trench coat-y blazer thing. Its white, and fitted in a way that makes my chest go POP! Yay! Hooray for jackets that do lovely things for ones cleavage!

Add to that two of the prettiest girliest dresses that you can imagine. I was prancing round the changeroom singing "I feel pretty, oh so pretty!" (Not really.) Nicky was choosing with me... "Try the red one next mum!" "That looks so nice mum" "Try the black one next!" So thank the lord that dresses that accentuate ones waist whilst floating gloriously down over ones bottom and knees are in this season!

I also bought this very cute little green top.

 

Now my only decision is what on earth shall I wear??

GM has been spending a lot of time out with the girls in the last week. (The 250 odd girls in the bottom paddocks - don't get stressed now!) So when I went to see him last night, it was understandable that he was tired. Tuckered out. Pooped. Asleep on the couch actually.

In his defence, it was 10.30pm when I finally arrived, after going to the movies with a girlfriend. He was asleep when I called to let him know that I was still coming and hadn't forgotten how wonderful he was, if he wasn't too tired to see me... he assured me that he wasn't, and he'd love to see me. According to the boys (his brother who lives with him, and his best mate who was staying over) he'd been asleep for half an hour before I called, and fell asleep about two minutes after he hung up from talking to me.

So I arrived, said hello to the boys, and he was there, in the lounge room asleep on the couch. They were sprawled on the floor and on the other couch, watching a movie.

Have you ever watched the person that you love sleeping? GM looked so vulnerable, and soft, and young and so incredibly beautiful. I sat on the beanbag just in front of his couch, so that I could stroke his head and hold his hand. I thought that he might wake up as I petted him and kissed him, but he didn't. He was absolutely exhausted. He's been working far too hard lately, and I don't think he's given himself enough time to recover from his big weekend away. It was absolutely delicious to watch him sleep, the only person I'd rather watch sleeping is Nicky - she looks like a cherub when she sleeps. And she snores, little baby girl snores. She's absolutely devine.

Anyway, I watched the movie with the boys, or more precisely, I watched my man sleeping as the light from the DVD flickered over his features. There was a big bang on the video, which made him jump, and I said, very softly, "Hi Gorgeous Man" as I stroked his head. The biggest smile spread over his face, and he slowly opened his eyes, looked at me, smiling. "Darlin' girl. How long have you been here?" he whispered, "Not long, about half an hour" I said quietly. "I'm glad you came." "Me too." And we just smiled at one another.

We had a chat about our day, what I'd gotten up to, what he'd gotten up to. They're joining at the moment, which means (for the uninitiated) that they are inseminating the cows. I said to GM, it must be hard work romancing the girls, you look exhausted.

He says "Yeah, its pretty tiring. Getting them in the moods the hard part. I had to look everywhere to find my Barry Manilow LP, and the number of Cud dinners by candlelight I've had to eat. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

He's really very funny. This launched us all into a jokefest about cows and romance, I won't bore you with the details.

Anyway, then I took him to bed. And we went to sleep in each others arms. And we woke up and smiled at each other and I realised that my life is wonderful.

There is absolutely nothing like this feeling, and I am loving every single second of it.

Yeah, just in case you were wondering, there is a waiting list for those of you wishing to come to court and tell everyone just exactly how AWESOME I am.

Oh, and to tell Mr. D. what a tosspot / bastard / ignorant prick / insert your own particular insult here he is.

 

Its nice to know that I have so many people who are so... passionate... about wanting me to win this in court.

Advice thus far has been mainly of the "rip him a new one" type.

However, I am rather loathe to do that. I don't see how bagging him could possibly benefit Nicky, so I'm not going to get into a mud slinging match with him about it.

He's a good dad. And I'm a good mum.

And I have a shiteload of people willing to testify to the fact.

 

Emergency Girls Night has been organised for next Thursday, and the girls are busy writing me up a battle plan for getting the right lawyer / witnesses / letters of support. They are all hanging out to find the date of the court appearance so that they can come with me, or meet me after, or drive me in. One of my girlfriends was saying that we need to get the best lawyer we can. I said, I can't afford it, so I'm going to talk to Legal Aid. She said, if you can't afford it, we'll start a fund for you, whatever it takes to do the right thing for Nicky.

 

I have the best, most wonderful friends in the world, hands down, bar none.

If I walk into your Starbucks Store, and order a Venti Carmel Latte with 1 teaspoon of expresso in it... and have an extensive conversation with you about how I really don't like the coffee much, and how I really only like a tiny tiny tiny little tiny bit of coffee in that really quite big cup... and then you offer to make me a caramel milk instead and I say, no, thats ok, please just put the one little teaspoon of coffee in for me, and that would be lovely...

 

CHANCES ARE I DON'T WANT TO SIP MY DRINK HALFWAY DOWN THE ROAD AND DISCOVER THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN ME A FUCKING FULL STRENGTH LATTE.

 

PAY A-FRICKIN-TTENTION.

 

$5.05 for an undrinkable latte = One really irritated and potentially EX-regular customer.

 

That is all. Thanks for your time.

GM is away at the moment on his annual Footy Trip.

My plan had been to go to the Deniliquin Ute Muster, with a friend, and tick that off my list. That fell through, so I found myself at home alone on Friday night, after I dropped my beautiful Nicky off to Mr. D.

And at a bit of a loss really. My beautiful girl away, my wonderful man away. And feeling rather ill about the whole court thing (see below).

So at 11.30pm, after quite some time feeling sorry for oneself and doing some jobs that needed doing round the place, I ran myself a long hot bath, took a packet of chips and some dip, a bottle of Coke, and a truly excellent collection of short stories with me. I soaked, and soaked, and soaked some more. At 3.30am I decided I probably should get out and go to bed. So I did.

Saturday dawned early. I assume. I slept in till lunchtime, and then got up to watch the footy grand final. But it wasn't going to start until 2pm, so I figured I should do something else first. So I mowed the lawns. I looked so glam, and I smelt like a navvy. I hadn't done my hair, and I was sunburnt with a lovely greasy patina of sunscreen on my nose and cheeks. Awww, sexy as.

Late in the afternoon, about mid final, a girlfriend rocked up with her little boy, and we spent the afternoon sooking because my beloved Swannies lost (despite a very nice goal by that sexy Adam Schnieder late in the final quarter). We pottered about, got some dinner. Pizza from the pizza place here in town. I went in to get the pizza, and who was in there but GM's cousin and his girlfriend. I wished that I could sink into the ground, because I looked and smelt so very delightful, and I'd also had a drink or two and was a bit... weavy.

My girlfriend headed for home about 9pm, and I hit the showers. I got all tarted up (or at least looking presentable) and headed for the pub. All the lads were down there, many of whom I would have thought would have been on the footy trip, but weren't.

Also in attendance was The Tease's girlfriend, and we had a long and rather baffling conversation. She says "I want to talk to you" and I'm thinking Oh-Oh. She's going to get up me for The Tease behaving the way that he does around me. But no, she just wanted to tell me how fantastic it is that GM and I are together despite what people were saying about us at the start (??? I didn't ask. It seemed safest not to somehow!). She thinks its great and we should ring them (Them being GM and The Tease) and leave a message on their answering machine. So we did. A rather long, rambling, drunken incoherant message. I'm still not sure exactly what we said, but I know I'm going to have to apologise for it when GM gets home!

Then she said "I want to tell you something" and I was like, Ok. So we sat at the bar, freshened up our drinks, and she gave me the full story on her relationship with The Tease. I'm not going to repeat it, because it isn't my place or your business, but I can sort of understand his behaviour now. She's a really lovely girl, and she's been through a lot. We actually have quite a lot in common, and I can understand why she doesn't smile very often.

I asked her why she puts up with him behaving the way that he does. She explained to me. I get it.

I also realised what it is that I need to say to him to stop him from behaving the way that he does around me. And for that I am going to be eternally grateful.

The night ended early, about 1am. So I headed for home, walking most of the way safe in the company of The Tease's girlfriend, so that no-one could start any rumours. I hate that it is necessary to take such precautions. And usually I wouldn't bother. But I'm GM's girl now, so I feel it prudent to be a little more careful of my reputation. Why go looking for trouble?

Bizarre that he is on the annual Footy Trip, and yet, I am not even remotely worried about what he might be getting up to. I was discussing this with my girlfriend earlier in the evening.

My relationship with my ex-fiance was one based (for me) on fear. Fear that I would lose him, or that he would leave me, or cheat on me, or decide that I wasn't good enough.

My relationship with Mr. D. was one of passionate love. I would die without him, I needed to be with him every minute that I could. I needed him.

My relationship with GM is really quite different to that. I feel completely safe, at ease and cared for. I feel like its a love that is supportive of us both as we are - not as one fused entity, but as two seperate and individual people. It feels right.

And I'm not afraid of losing him, or of him doing something to harm me. I trust him.

I'm off now. I need to head to town and get myself something very delicious for lunch and a large Starbucks Coffee. GM should be home tonight, but I'm spending the evening with my lovely little princess girl, Nicky.