One love

I have been lucky to have had love in my life. I have had one love that I will never forget. That's a good thing. The fact that it is over is sad, especially considering the circumstances but it was there and I will be forever grateful for it.

Name it first

I love Pink. I think she's the bomb.  This concatenation of interviews is pure entertainment. There are many reasons why I Iove Pink - she is honest, emotional, passionate, unapologetic and so loving. She's loyal first and foremost to her values which is something I really admire.

She mentions in one of her interviews in relation to the lack of bad press about herself that if you name it first you take the wins out of the sails and there is no story. I love this woman for her street smarts and intellect. I admire her drive and dedication. I am in awe of her strength and energy.

Yoga - the good, the bad and the just plain laughable

I practice yoga because I find it restorative. Like most gyms, mine maintains the standard where the majority of attendees are female but there are about eight devote male attendees to the Sunday yoga session, less on a Tuesday night.

While I love yoga (the swirl of energy you get, the peace and calm as well as the known benefits), there are parts that I hate (the inconsistency - one day I can perform a pose to perfection and others I am unable to balance with my two firmly grounded feet; plus there are those that tout the risks of yoga) but there are also parts which just make me giggle.

While I have never personally experienced escaping anal air during yoga there are plenty that do. I, like a six year old child, find it amusing but there are some that get quite aggressive when other people pass wind in yoga. It disturbs their chi or something.

Personally I go to yoga because, like Zumba, it is an escape. Like Zumba I sweat (not as copiously) but, unlike Zumba, I come out of yoga with a sense of peace rather than a euphoric high. The meditation at the end is my most restful sleep in the entire week, if only for a few minutes. There's something special about lying still under a blankie after having worked my body beyond its limits. I liken it to sleeping after a rigorous sex session. My heart rate slows, my body temperature drops and my mind lets go. Rather than escaping by filling my mind with something else, yoga is the only time where I find peace in nothingness. My mind clears because I have challenged it and my body simultaneously and it needs to rest. Nothing else does that for me. Yoga is my rock that pulls me through the week. I do everything I can to make sure I go every Tuesday night and every second Sunday. My sanity depends on it and I can notice a drop in my ability to cope with life's unpredictability when I skip a session.

Yoga is a place where I process so much of my mental anguish. It is a time when the washing machine spin cycle stops and I find I have something clean. The quiet, peaceful nonjudgmental observation is so important in my life.

Princess Mandy

Being alone has its advantages - no one to tell me where to go, what to do or what to wear. Thing is, I'm kinda sick of making all the decisions and trying to carve a path on my own. I'm tired. I'm so god damn tired.

I don't want to be a princess. I want to be someone's queen.

These boots were made for walking

And these heels were made for dancing! Time to get my groove on.

Give a woman the right shoes and she can conquer the world - Marilyn Monroe

Ten minutes

I have ten minutes 'spare' between commitments so I am choosing to lie still and contemplate. Just think about the pressures in my life and how I feel about them; the way I respond to them and my vices (I mean coping mechanisms). In these ten minutes I heave my chest with effort for every breath hurts. My eyes are burning, constantly on the verge of tears and my body aches with the pain of sleeplessness and worry. For what? For a hint of a man. For the possibility of a chance at happiness with the one I adore. Ha! What a fucking waste of energy and emotion.

In my ten minutes I have initiated a mind shift. May the winds of change start and blow away the funk of the last six weeks of misery and uncertainty. May they push through every crack in the wall and take with them the fear and pain. Let the heartache and sorrow go. Cleansing and swift.

Fear

This

Wishful drinking

I spend too much time hoping for things to change or wishful drinking as I like to call it. I'm done with that. Like my Mum says, my life is fucked. End of story.

This is me

I'm not fun to be around when I am hungry.

Yellow

Yellow is my favourite colour. I wear it when I am happy and it further heightens my mood. My ultimate would be the dress used in the Yellow by Yellowglen campaign. Just. So. Beautiful.

Surrounded by love

I popped in to see my sister tonight after work. I was feeling unwell - postherpetic neuralgia is a bitch! Then I went home for a sleep. I was meant to visit friend but I was in too much pain. I had a snooze for about half am hour (yay!) then lazed on the couch. I had some leftover pasta (I hate leftovers but I was in no mood to cook), watched a movie then snuggled in bed chatting to my gorgeous cousin on Facebook. I am surrounded by love.

It is all too easy to forget but I am so loved. I am so lucky to have such wonderful (crazy) and supportive family around me. I need to remember that when it gets all too much again tomorrow. When reality hits like a meteor and I am shattered to the ground again I must remember that I cannot please everyone. Regardless of how much I want him, I'm not going to win this time

All about me

I tend to get absorbed in my own affairs. I am surrounded by shit and it is so all consuming at times that I find it hard to see that others are struggling too. My naturally generous nature means that if someone comes to me needing help I will bend over backwards in order to assist them. I will forgo my own happiness for those I love - my family and my friends alike.

I need to remember that others have their own shit. I need to be more mindful and compassionate of others. I need to learn patience. I need to just let it be.

I wonder

Tonight I watched "Searching for Sugar Man", a documentary about Sixto Rodriguez which features one of his songs entitled 'I wonder' all about the curious mind, particularly pertaining to sex. Why is it that so important how many sexual partners someone has had? From listening to girlfriends the answer is twofold. Firstly, experience. There's a selfish part to people that want to be with someone who will be great in bed. Secondly, germs. No one wants sloppy seconds but there seems to a threshold and, from quizzing various randoms in one of my social experiments, the answer is eight. More than that and the person, male or female is considered slutty.

Cost of sexy

Channel Seven are filming a documentary called "Bringing Sexy Back" and, much to my dismay, I am going to feature in it. The camera crew were at Zumba tonight, recording the star of the show and, unfortunately, after the intro the camera guy put her next to me.

Now, to put it into perspective, I go hard at Zumba. I'm the freak who jumps up, hits the floor, does full squats and waves her hands in the air. Because I just don't care. It's an hour out of my week where I can fully escape the clusterfuck of life and dance my toush off. The energy I put into the class is reflected in so many disgusting ways. I end up with a river of sweat flowing down my meagre cleavage which soaks my bra, my face is beet root red, my hair is sopping and I get a batman patch on my pants (akin to bat butt below). It. Is. Not. Pretty.

Light dawns

He's never choosing me. I will hold on until the end of the month, just in case, but there's nothing there any more from his end when I gaze into his eyes.

Eyes like the sea after a storm

As I watched my mulkvisti today my heart melted a little. He has the most incredible eyes and a smile that makes me smile on the inside. He is, quite simply, divine.

There is a fourth

I have to deal with this exceptionally talented guy for work. I think he is number four.

I don't want to

I feel like a little kid but I don't want to. Anything. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to deal with lawyers. I don't want to cook or clean or garden. I just want to crawl into a hole until this is all over; which I hope is soon.

Sweet dreams

It has been so long since I slept all night that I am starting to become a menace. I'm so fucking tired. Stress has such a terrible effect on my body. If I knew it wasn't going to be misconstrued I would ask a friend to stay the night and hold me just so I could sleep. I have a friend that has a cuddle buddy and it works well for her (and him). They get together a couple of times a month and just share sleep. Sometimes in each others arms. Other times just sleep in the same bed. Never anything more than that (though they sometimes have breakfast on a weekend but that's where their relationship started).

I'm seriously considering it. I could do with some sweet dreams.

Addendum - for shits and giggles!

Maintenance

I don't have money to spare on nonessential s such as waxing, facials, manicures and pedicures. Ideally I would like to be pampered by others on a regular basis. However I have to rely on my measley skills. As such, I have a maintenance "schedule" where I do my best to try to look pretty with DIY. I have a daily routine but on Sunday nights I apply a hair treatment and a face mask and give myself a manicure and pedicure (which is a fancy way of saying I go to bed with moisturiser on my feet). Sunday night is also cleaning night where I change my linen, clean the house and do the ironing. I like to start the working week with an empty laundry basket, a clean home and neat nails.

Waiting

I hate waiting. Tonight I caught up with a friend and I was early. He wasn't late but I still had to wait and it mad me all agitated. I came to the revelation that waiting is wasted time. I have so much to do that I can't afford to be waiting for anything

I think that's one of the reasons I am so torn at the moment. I'm nearing forty and don't want to spend the rest of my life alone. If he doesn't want me then he should have the balls to admit it so I can heal my broken heart and move on.

Mercy

I range from pleading for mercy and waiting for him to say something.

Burning

Today my sister and I evacuated our parents from their home in Warrandyte as they were under direct threat of bushfire. I had a girfriend's daughter with me at the time and the three kids were quite distressed as we drive through smoke and hit stuck in evacuation traffic. While we were trying to get to safety people were stopping their cars and blocking traffic in order to take photos of the flames. Even for an avid amateur photographer, this is inexcusable.

My children and their friend were stressed out as we sat ten deep in cars trying to turn out of mum and dads road. I attempted to remain cool, constantly assessing our options. Watching the wind direction and the growing smoke plume all the while speaking soothingly, telling the kids we were safe. Yada yada.

Thankfully we managed to get out before the CFA closed the roads. As we were driving away I watched the smoke plume in the mirror and saw the change from white to dense black. I knew instantly the fire had jumped from the grass into the canopy and that we had made it out just in time. As news reports come in of houses lost, I am grateful the kids noticed the smoke as I wa making coffees after sharing lunch and for gut instincts that kicked in and insisted mum and dad pack bags and get out. As dad is dependent on oxygen 24/7 it is imperative he has power.

What do you need?

Today I feel like the genie from Aladdin; sick of going poof 'what do you need'?

Eulogy

I was thinking today about what I would like to have written in my eulogy.  Morbid, yes.  But intriguing nevertheless.  So, I decided to write my eulogy as I would like to see it written:

Mandy was a loving mother to two gorgeous children.  She was a compassionate and caring woman, always giving generously to those that she loved.  Mandy was a truly reliable person, delivering more than expected at every opportunity.   Mandy loved to dance and, as such, was a constant source of entertainment. Mandy will be remembered for bringing fun wherever she went and turning gloom into smiles. Mandy would always take the high road. Even in times of adversity she would smile and make those around her believe that she was coping just fine.


My aim now is to live that; make it my truth, my mission. 

Question

If I ever again consider a man as a partner I will need to know, can he wield a doona into its cover?

Because this is the thing I struggle with. That is all. Carry on. 

The hotter the better

Most people hate the weather we've had in the last few days. I love it. I have washed and dried the linen from three beds and all the towels this morning. It's not even ten. Sa-weet!

Make up your mind sweet baby

I'm loving this track at the moment. It plays at least a dozen times a day

I would have rocked the forties. I love sa-wing and can totally carry off pearls.

Shake that arse

In a conversation with a guy at work this week I was surprised to hear him say that chicks don't talk about sex but that guys do. Where has this man been? News flash - chicks like sex. Humans are programmed to get pleasure from sex but so many men find it surprising that women actually like it and seek it out.

Which brings me to a dilemma that plays in my mind. I love 'Shake That Ass' by Eminem and Nate Dogg. But some of the lyrics are kinda distressing ("looking for a couple of bitches with some double Ds... who'll sit in the crib with no panties on, knows that she can but she won't say no.... a girl that will do whatever the fuck I say, everyday she'll be giving it up"). It is a firm but funky reminder that men are really only after one thing. It's also an interesting dichotomy with other songs I love like 'Can't Hold Us Down' by Christina Aguilera and Lil Kim ("So what am I not supposed to have an opinion. Should I be quiet just because I'm a woman? Call me a bitch cos I speak what's on my mind. Guess it's easier for you to swallow if I sat and smiled") and 'Hard Out Here' by Lily Allen ("Don't need to shake my arse for you 'cause I've got a brain" and "If I told you about my sex life you'd call me a slut").

It is no secret that I love to dance. I even try to be seductive from time to time (note the emphasis is on try in that sentence). Does that make me less intelligent or independent? No. Does it make it okay for men to treat me solely as a sex object? No. Does it give them something for the wank bank? Probably. Does that matter? Not in the least.

Prolific

I've just realised how prolific my writing is at the moment. I always use my blog as a means of coping; of finding peace in the turmoil of life. But I had no idea how disturbed I was at the moment until I saw that I have fifty six blog posts for February and it is only the ninth day. Shite.

My lack of sleep and restless mind is spewing forth a whole heap of crap. Like a hippo marking its territory after beating another male, that shit is going all over the place.

Happy

When a friend quizzed me about my mulkvisti yesterday the first thing I came up with as to why he is so freaking awesome is that he makes me happy. This is not necessarily true. He does not make me anything. I am happy when I am around him. I am happy when I am around other people too. He is not the only person I am happy with. He's just the person I want to be happy around. There is a huge difference. When I realised this today I made a great leap. I will not be miserable without him. If he chooses her my world is not going to come crashing down. The building has already been demolished. The events of New Year's Eve saw that disaster. I've been waiting since for him to make up his mind but I fear he already has. He is just too scared to face it. Too frightened to admit he is going to take the path of least resistance.

I have to keep reminding myself that this may not be a reflection on me. It probably is but I don't know the full story. He's not the kind of person to open his heart and let anyone in. So my over active mind leaps from one scenario to another trying to find the truth. Trying to work out what's going on and how I can make myself better so as to avoid the same situation again in the future.

If truth be told, however, this situation is unlikely to repeat. In fifteen years my ex could not find anything loveable about me and spent the last seven years we were together trying his utmost to show me that. It took a long time for me to get the message but I got there in the end.

I worry that this is the same. Though he keeps trying to tell me otherwise, my gut keeps telling me that he's made his decision. He's just stringing me along because.... I'm not sure. Maybe he doesn't want to hurt me, maybe he wants to try to have his cake and eat it too, maybe he thinks I will cope better without him. Hell, I don't know.  I could play these guessing games all day.

The truth is that my greatest fear is that my ex is right. I know family and friends love me but perhaps I am unloveable in the romantic sense. Perhaps I am too intense? Or just too difficult? Perhaps people take on board my nuances and feel obliged to try to address them even though I never ask that of them. Perhaps my insecurity and constant need for reassurance is just too overbearing. Perhaps I am really annoying and I just don't know it. Maybe I miscommunicate and people actually think I am high maintenance when, really, I don't give a shit. Maybe my lack of expectations is interpreted as weakness. Perhaps I am boring. Who knows.

The only thing that I can control is me. I have to keep reminding myself of that. I cannot make him make a decision nor can I make him communicate with me. I need to continue to focus on myself and finding my own happiness. If he comes around I will accept him with open arms. If not then I will let go as gracefully as I can with all the peace I can muster and try not to let it destroy me.

Soul mates

I don't believe there is one person for everyone. I think anything can be made to work if both parties want it to be that way. But I do believe in soul mates. I do believe that some people have a deep affinity with others. There's two people I have come across in my life that have made me feel like this - the best friend I have ever had and my mulkivisti.

My friend soul mate is now in Ireland. I rarely speak to him and hardly ever see him but I think if him all the time and he's always there for me with a humorous response, witty remark or insightful comment. He knew me before marriage and remembers how I used to be. He encourages and supports me in my quest to get back to the quiet confidence I had as a teenager.

There is an awesome Danish proverb that I love which states that "The road to a friends house is never long". This is so true. Although he lives in Ireland, is happily married with a new bub and climbing the corporate ladder with great success he's never too far away or too busy to converse and I always come away from our conversations feeling lighter and more intelligent, centred and securely planted on the ground.

I believe in what Queen Tara says in Epic "You are here for a reason.  Sometimes the connections aren't clear, but they're always there".

Family

Cheeky, I know, but this made me laugh.

Full to overflowing

Though I have not said anything, my gorgeous children have obviously sensed that I am sad.

As I wrote my blog last night my son came around the table, massaged my shoulders for about ten minutes while whispering soothingly "just relax". My daughter made my and her names out of the ties that come in a packet of freezer bags and put them on my bedside table today to cheer me up.  I am so full of love right now. 

Mulkvisti

I caught up with a friend yesterday who quizzed me on my life. I try not to divulge information about myself but she knows the generalities of my situation and was trying to understand why I am waiting for a man to make a decision about whether I am worth being with when "he should know he is never going to find better". My standard response ensued "we don't know his other option".

Anyway, another friend was asking me what's so special about this guy. She has this warped notion that I can get any man I want and wanted to know why 'my' guy is different to the rest. I had nothing concrete to give her so I tended to the needs of my children, let her question slide and turned inside for the answer.

As I was putting my children to sleep two items came up in my Facebook news feed that hit me. Firstly this -

Which made me realise that I always have such great fun when I am with him. I am truly me when I am around him whether that means I am in a playful, somber, cheeky, childish, seductive, subdued mood. It may piss him off sometimes but he accepts me for who I am and does not try to change me. I like that. I like it a lot. 

Then there was this - 

I know he'd feel the same way about this as I do - how cool are the Finnish and how much more do I love them now that I know that they have a word like mulkvisti!

Escape

I think I have reached this point. I don't need anyone. There are people I like to have in my life - my children, my family and my small group of friends. But I don't NEED anyone. I am happy enough to go to the movies, out to dinner or dancing by myself. I have no issues with staying at home anymore. I don't need to fill every waking hour with contact with other people just to get through the day. I am okay, most of the time, in my own skin. I am not looking for someone just do I can escape what's going on in my clusterfuck of a life. 

I would like to share my life with someone but if that does not happen then I will be okay. 

Warning

Uptown Girl

I was brought up with the insinuation that I was something special. I cannot recall anything specific that was said but when I look back at my childhood I get a sense that my parent, my mother especially, thought I was better than other people. To be fair, now that I am a mother myself, I totally believe that my children ARE better than anyone else. They are smarter, sweeter, kinder, more considerate... But the reality is that other kids are also smart and talented and generous, polite, kind, gentle. It's just that mine are mine. I will accentuate their awesomeness as a result of my protective instinct and my pride. I am constantly amazed that such beautiful creatures came from within me. They are, quite seriously, the most divine souls that ever existed.

So, I can understand why my parents thought that of my sister and I. The problem is thusly; I am not special. I am just another person. No better or worse than anyone else. I live in reality. No Prince Charming is going to come along, sweet me off my feet and rescue me. Not the least because there is no Prince Charming. Everyone has flaws. Some more than others. No guy exists that is going to so perfect in himself that he will be able to dedicate his life to saving me. And why do I need saving? I am pretty competent and capable. Apart from specialist fields like electricians and plumbers (because the law dictates it) I can do almost anything with a little motivation, some time and a dash of google research.

I am no uptown girl. I am just a girl. Nothing special about me per se. Nothing particularly evil or wrong with me either. I am a balance - it's just a matter of keeping the scales from tipping.

Self esteem

The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else's highlight reel - Steve Furtick

I feel like a tightly knotted ball of wool lately.  There's so much to untangle and some of the knots are so deep and so strongly bound under interwoven layers that, at times, I don't know where to begin.  Other times, I think I've undone some of the past damages only to find that I've just moved the tangled portion to another spot.  It's all still there, not so tightly wound perhaps, but ever present.

Ideally I would like to concentrate on one issue at a time and try to resolve it before moving on.  The reality is that the issues I have are so interconnected that I cannot seem to find a way to work on one thing in isolation. 

One of my biggest issues is low self esteem.  I drop to zero self esteem on most days, if I am truly honest.  I have tried the "fake it til you make it" path but, honestly, that doesn't really work.  So I am working through a series of exercises in an attempt to find the source of my low self esteem and, hopefully, then be able to address the surrounding issues and start to build my confidence.

Linked to this is insecurity, jealousy and the overwhelming sense of worthlessness. These issues have been under the microscope lately, considering the circumstances. As a result I have turned to some of my most hated vices - comfort eating and self pity. Not pretty. 

So I dig deep to find the strength to continue on my quest to self improvement.  I soldier on as best I can and hope that I do better tomorrow. I hope that the work I have been doing over the last few years is making a difference; anything to demonstrate that my efforts are doing something!

Either way, we're going to lose

I am a helpless romantic.  I am a sucker for tales of love.  Perhapd the truth about love, though, is that it does not exist.  I believe in love between family members - parents, siblings, cousins, aunts - but I am coming around to the idea that true romantic love does not.  I see no evidence of someone loving someone else for eternity.  People love the idea of people but when reality hits and they see that the person of their affections is, like everyone, imperfect cracks start to showin the relationship. Passion dies and interest fades.

I have watched a number of friends that are on the dating scene recently and there are repeating patterns in their interactions.  

For men it's always about the hunt; the chase to get a woman into bed.  That's it.  Plain and simple.  Once a man has a woman he's no longer interested in her.  All the traits he liked initially become irritating.  The quick responses that were initially considered flirtatious and intriguing are viewed as  neediness.  The perception of her attire from sexy to slutty.  The quirks of her personality that originally interested a man are seen as foolish and annoying.  He disconnects until she gets fed up and walks away.  He's got what he wanted and moves onto the next piece of prey.

For women, it starts as an investigation and exploration of a man's personality.  She wants to understand what makes him tick.  She welcomes the compliments that flow freely at the start of the interaction but, as time goes by they stop and she is left wondering what she's done wrong.  Often she'll try to up the ante but it generally doesn't work and she is left with disappointment and regret.  

Most women are looking for companionship; someone to share their life with.  Men are looking for a fuck. I realise I am making generalisations and that, for some, it is the other way around. Regardless, it is so rare that interest between two people lasts more than a month. Then monotony kicks in. People get bored or complacent or both and the spark fizzles and fades like a cheap firework on New Year's Eve. 

Longer than a microwave minute

I am not a patient person. I abhor waiting. This is killing me

Choices

We all make choices in life. The hard part is living with them.

I have made some terrible choices. Many I will regret for as long as I live. I wonder whether that's why I cannot sleep at night.

Some choices fuck you up forever. They have you running in circles in the confines of our own mind. For some reason, though, I pull myself up out of bed every morning and hope that things will be different. Each night I realise, however, that nothing has changed. There are no real options. The freedom I fought so hard for was just an illusion.

The path I have taken through life has led me to a series of dead ends.  Regardless how many times I u-turn and make a new attempt at moving forward I am lead to another brick wall. Now, a wise person like Dr Suess would advise me to climb over, dig under or walk my way around that wall (though with more rhyming and less real words). However, there comes a time when it is important to realise that no amount of parkour training, badger skills or trudging is going to bring salvation. There comes a time when it is necessary to admit defeat.

I am at that point. I am never going to win. For me winning would be having my children with me the bulk of the time, not the occasional weekend. Winning would include being able to afford to travel the world, rather than juggle the bills. And winning would have me adored by a remarkable man rather than disappointed and alone.

However, having accepted defeat actually makes available a new choice. I choose to make the most of the cesspool I am in. I choose to learn acceptance. To stop fighting for more and join the plebs out there living the drudgery of life. To plug back into the matrix and hope beyond hope that I can return to a state of ignorance and again become comfortably numb. The problem with this new choice is that I have been awakened to something more. I have been shown how fun life can be. I have a mammoth task ahead of me.

Stockholm syndrome

I wonder sometimes whether I suffered stockholm syndrome during my marriage. I guess that's why cults work.

A picture says a thousand words

I think the success of Instagram and such apps is that people are intensely visual. That's why our houses have wall hangings and museum and art galleries are so popular. It's why people will pay through the nose for a key piece in the lobby of a hotel. The walls of my house are bare. Deliberately so. I prefer them that way.

Though, I must admit that landscape photography would be my wall decoration of choice if it was essential to do so. Ken Duncan is my favourite but I am loving Alistair Wilson's  work (I am blessed to some of Al's prints in my guest bedroom thanks to a friend who knows him) and I have recently found William Patino.

The grass is always greener

I've mentioned before that people show the highlights of their lives to other people. This makes it look like everyone else's life is more interesting/easy/fun/productive/successful/insert positive adjective here than your own. The truth is that everyone has shit to deal with in their life. No one's shit is the same as yours but there is always something going on in life that you are possibly unaware of.

While it is nice to be able to share your shit with someone, not everyone is able to do so. Accept that. I need to constantly remind myself of that. I also need to ensure that I don't overshare. I have a tendency to waffle on when I get nervous and always say more than I want to.

The important thing to do is to focus on your own life. Tend to your issues, address them as best you can and try not to let the shit in life get you down. That way people will look at your grass as the greener.

I need to refocus. I have neglected my grass and it is starting to brown, the weeds are showing through and it is unkempt. My aim is to eat better, drink more water, get back into running, work in some additional yoga sessions and get more sleep. I need to save some money and have someone look at the pinched nerve in my butt and my dodgy shoulder. I should also get off my arse to get the dentist to fix my chipped tooth. All cost money however and that is something I don't have enough of right now. So I will have to prioritise around my other financial commitments.

Music memories

Music is a powerful tool. I use it all the time to change my mood. When I can see the edge of the pit, I put my headphones in, find an uplifting song and play it. Loud.

This is not rocket science. But apparently researchers have made some money out of proving the connection between mood and music and demonstrating that music can bring on cravings.

Coming out of my closet

Came across this response to a four year old asking a lesbian if she was a boy. 

This blog is my way of coming out of the closet. It is my way of dealing with the hard stuff in my life.

Can't hold me down

I love Christina Aguilera. She's like Pink, honest and raw. At the moment Can't Hold Us Down is one of the songs I choose to play. When I listen to it, I am reminded of the Ann Richards quote "Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, only backwards and in high heels".

I am writing with such ferocity lately that I know there is a lot of internal shit coming to the surface as a result of the events of the year.

I have the washing machine on spin cycle 23 hours a day. It is occasionally generating some clean clothes but most of the time it's just spinning without purpose.

I am determined to come out of this stronger though. I refuse to let this pain I am experiencing tear me down. I accept my sadness. Love is rare and I believe it is worth fighting for but I am not going to let a man rip me to shreds again. I will not be held down during this process.

Mindfulness and madness

I am trying again to be mindful of the madness going on around me. Papery butterfly wings are not cutting it at the moment. I am being buffeted by the wind. Acceptance, grace and poise are proving to be a challenge. I am desperately trying to centre myself against the onslaught with little success.

I have decided to dedicate the next few days to quiet. A slowing down of mind. I am going to try to close my mind off to negativity and the sheer panic I have been experiencing the year and just and let it sink in.

Times like these remind me of how much I hate to be an adult. Responsibility has never been my greatest strength but I can see how many bad decisions I have made in the last few years in an attempt to regain life. But, like Bob says; times, they are a changing. Acceptance (another weakness of mine) is the only motherfucking option. Considering my natural reaction to stressful times is to fight for what I believe in, the path of acceptance is a challenging and somewhat depressing one. I am creating new neural pathways in my brain; rewiring my hard drive. It's not an easy thing to do but a necessary evil.

I am going to meditate morning and night for a whole week and see what affect that has on the health of my mind. I have not slept for more than about 40 minutes a day this year and it is starting to take a horrendous toll on my body. Postherpetic  neuralgia is making every breath painful. The glands are up in my jaw, neck, underarms and groin. I have had a headache every day for the last two weeks. My memory is pretty much non-existent. My memory is shot. Every muscle aches and I know it is only a matter of time before the stress of my life infects my body totally and I am back in hospital. Again. I want to avoid that at all costs.

The future is out of my hands. I cannot force other people to make decisions nor can I influence the decisions they are going to make. I need find some peace somewhere. I need to find a way to wait patiently for this decision to be made without having it ruin me. Uncertainty has always been a killer for me. I can cope with anything as long as I know the truth. Not knowing is my most hated form of torture.

I will continue to hope that he chooses me, even though I know in my heart that he won't. I cannot let go until the words spill from his mouth. To me, he is worth it but I need to control my body's reaction to this stress so I don't (literally) kill myself with the internal pain I am experiencing. I came close to that in 2009 and I recognise the warning signs. Now is the time to act and find a way to let the pain escape from within.

All roses have thorns

I am far from perfect. I have many flaws. Awareness is the first step to healing. I am working on some and learning to accept others.

I choose to accept that I am sensitive. Mainly because I have tried in vain to change it so many times from about age five. Not. Going. To. Happen. I am fundamentally a sensitive person and, though I do try to moderate it as best I can, it is part of the fabric of who I am. It's so interwoven and laced in that it cannot be untangled without ruining me.

I am working hard on my jealousy which stems from a deep seated insecurity. I have made great progress on this but still have a way to go.

I tend to jump to conclusions. Though I think they are logical I am sometimes incorrect.

Instead, I am trying to accept things for what they are and not plan for the future.

Despite my flaws, I am starting to see that there is some beauty in the person that I am. I may not be loved by someone romantically but I am loved by my family and my small circle of friends. These divine people are slowly opening my eyes to the more attractive qualities I have.

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses."
- Abraham Lincoln

Inadequate respect for tomorrow

I cannot sleep. I often lie in bed for what seems like endless hours with my eyes closed and my mind reeling. Other times I am reckless and show completed and utter disrespect for tomorrow by sitting up and watching pointless shit on TV, reading crap in the internet and playing games on my phone.

Devilishly good

Nutella is one of my favourite things. On crepes especially.

In celebration of world Nutella day I share with you some devilishly good nutella recipes.

The joys

There are many depressing things about being divorced but this article had me smiling.

Don't hold back

I think true happiness comes from being exactly who you are. When there is no need to be fake, no need to wear a protective mask and no holding back.

I have been slowly unravelling myself. Very tenderly and carefully peeling back the layers of filth and caked on mud from my years in the pit of despair. There were times I scrubbed and bleached the underlying skin in order to remove the darkness that had penetrated through my weak protective barrier.

What I found was not a skeleton but a collection of shattered and fragments of bones. I have painstakingly glued those pieces back together.

There have been times when I have thought "I'm done" with pride and a great sense of accomplishment only to discover that I have missed something and I have to peel the layers back a little further to uncover the dry rot has made another hole in my soul.

But I am making progress. As my gorgeous friend recently pointed out, my core is a solid as a Kylie Minogue stiletto. I am showing the real me to more and more people and I am shocked to see that they do not hate it. The more positive feedback I get, the bolder I am in exposing a little more of the realness that I hide. I am learning not to hold back. I am learning to slowly but surely open up to select individuals that have provided me with the reassurance that they are trustworthy, reliable and compassionate.

Morbid fascination

There's an abandoned school not far from my house which the kids love taking guests to.  It's filthy, full of rubbish, covered in graffiti and inhabited by squatters. Bit is is eerily beautiful too

Life in draft

I have about fifty posts that are sitting in draft format. They are piecemeal compilations of half-thoughts. I feel my life is in draft lately. I don't want this to be my screenplay. I don't want what's happening now to be written down for all to see. It's unpolished, naked and ugly. There's so much editing that's required. I want to be able to go back and try again. I've made too many mistakes. If my life was written in pencil the amount of eraser required would have worn the paper through. 

Alas, in life we don't get to try again. Our fuck ups are forever etched into history; ugly and visible by all. Moreover, they leave scars on our hearts that won't necessarily heal. I fear my heart is so badly damaged that it will stop pumping just due to the massing of scar tissue.  

Like all authors, success does not come to those who put down their pen. So, I again reach for the red corrective pen and hope that, this time, I can learn from my recent fuck ups and make better decisions. I live in hope. 

Work it out

I am an insecure person. I hate it. It sparks fear, causes arguments and tears me to pieces. There are times when I wish I was anyone but myself. I watch arseholes around me spew insults and wonder how they got to be so self assured. How, in their far from perfect state, they managed to come out unscathed and full of confidence. It perplexes me how rude people can be. Their insensitivity and lack of foresight astounds me. I know I am far from perfect but who needs someone else to point out their flaws?

I'm the kind of person who cannot accept compliments. Not that I am impolite and don't thank people when they compliment me; but that I honestly don't believe someone when they say nice things about me. .

I have spent many hours trying to work out why this is and all I can come up with is conditioning. I hazard a guess that, at some point in my childhood I was told that people issue compliments without basis. Or that someone around me was complimented and didn't accept the kind words. Whatever the root cause, I am working on receiving compliments. Not seeking approval. Never asking for people's opinion on me but actually listening to what people say when unprompted.

Without fear

"Screw fear, it's contagious.  Infecting everything.  It makes me do such stupid, stupid stuff.  I say things I never mean" - Pink

Living in the moment

I tend to over analyse everything.  It's something I have always done.  It is something I cannot seem to stop doing, regardless of how much I want to stop.  Therefore, as one of my wisest friends pointed out, I live inside my head.

There are many disadvantages to being like this.  I find it very hard to live in the moment as I am constantly analysing things that have happened earlier in the day, last week, a decade ago.

One of my favourite quotes at the moment is "when life gets ugly, throw some glitter and make that bitch give you a lap dance". I'm going to need a lot if glitter.

Freedom

"As I walked out the door toward my freedom I knew that if I did not leave all the anger, hatred and bitterness behind that I would still be in prison" - Nelson Mandela

Despair

I am in a dark place.  My world has crumbled around me.  I have nothing to look forward to and no hope for the future.  When I try to envisage my life in a year, 5 years, 10 years there is a blank void.  I cannot begin to fathom what is in store for me.  I dare not imagine things getting better from where they are now because the thought of not reaching that point brings so much pain.  Each breath I draw is laboured.  Deliberate.  Yet I persist.  All I really want to do is give in.

It is okay

I'm not a demanding person. In fact, I tend to let people trample all over me. The truth is that it's okay. I don't give more than I want to and I only give to people I choose. So, it's okay that you take without giving in return. It's okay that you invite me to dinner and make me cook my own meal even though you have catered for everyone else's special needs. It's okay that I give you my favourite cup, I know it is your favourite too.

It's okay because I am strong enough to cope with it and it is clearly something you need. I deserve nothing and I know it. It's okay that you take and never give because I have enough to give without hope of reciprocation. It's okay that you make promises you don't keep because you have your own issues to deal with. It's okay that I'm alone because I am enough all by myself. It is okay that you don't respond to me; I have my own thoughts. It's okay because I am building myself up from the ground and there is always room for further improvement. It's okay because I am recreating who I am and becoming someone I am proud of. It's okay because you can be replaced if I feel a void but you will never be forgotten. It's okay because I know that once you no longer have me in your life you will miss me.

Houston, we have a problem

So. There's this guy I like. Love, actually. But it's complicated and I get the impression that he's not that keen. Then there's this other guy. I'm not good with this sort of thing but I am pretty sure he likes me and I don't want to give him false hope. He's a nice enough guy but he's not even in the same ballpark as the first guy.

There's nothing wrong with guy number two. In fact, he'd be a pretty safe choice. He's honest and trustworthy. He's punctual and reliable. He's sweet and very complimentary. He constantly tells me how awesome he thinks I am. He's seen me without makeup and instead of being appalled told me I was a natural beauty. He's seen me at two in the morning when I'm all cranky and hasn't complained or called me a whiny bitch. He's aware of my quirky eating habits and doesn't rant on about it (too much).

But he's not the first guy.  Not. Even. Close.

I am not willing to settle for second. I want the best. I'd rather be alone than with someone who's not up to scratch. The bar has been raised.

Then there's a third guy who I have known for years and is really sweet but I'm just not interested in him as more than a friend. He's never tried for anything and he never would but I know he wants to which makes me feel bad.

God damn that first guy for ruining all other guys for me. I imagine that in years to come I will have lots of awesome male friends as a result of guy number one though. Silver linings.

Advertising win

I love this man

So much love

At a friend's house recently I took a seat on the couch. My children came to sit next to me like I was magnetic. I felt so freaking special! I love those two more than I could ever think possible.

Male privilege

Like female entitlement, male privilege is something I despise. I hate that men expect women to be perfectly groomed at all times yet don't have the decency to do the same. Their attitude towards women as a piece of meat is degrading at best. I have issues with the way that they think women should feel privileged if they look at them. I despise the fact that stupidity can be overlooked if they consider the woman at fault to be beautiful. I find the way men behave to be so shallow. Who the fuck died and made them king?

Entitlement

Entitlement, the guarantee of access to something, is rife. Gen X to a certain extent and Gen Y in particular seem to think that the world owes them. There's a special type of woman, an entitlement princess, that I abhor (probably in part because I am jealous - they always tend to get whatever they want). The entitlement princess receives special treatment from everyone she encounters. She is generally inner focused and condescending, often times bitchy to boot.

I find the sense of entitlement difficult to deal with. There are a number of people in my life that act in this manner and it grinds my gears.

Usual craziness

This is madness

Good girl

In a way, I am not a good girl - I don't match my handbag to my outfit, I cannot wear bold lipsticks, I don't do touch ups and I cannot apply falsies. I can weild a chainsaw and use power tools.  But I am a good girl - I am loyal, compliant and oozing compassion. You win some you lose some.

Speak on it

Sometimes all you need to obtain clarity is to speak of you ails aloud. You don't need an ear to hear you. You just need to get it out. That's what writing if for me. Being a slower form of communication I am less likely to be misunderstood like I continually am when interacting with real people. Writing gives me a way to exercise my thoughts and feelings without knowing them on anyone. No one is obliged to read my blog. I write for me so I can help rid myself of the toxic shit that has accumulated inside me. 

I find it cleansing to write. It nourished my mind by allowing me to exercise out the impurities. I am able to slowly grind away at the rusted surfaces, prime them then paint them over again knowing that no further damage will occur. Sometimes it take a few goes on the grinder. I get tired or stuck on a stubborn bit of rust and have to rework it a number of times using different tools to ensure all traces of rust are removed before prettying the surface again. 

It is tiring, difficult and unrelenting work. Sometimes I think I'm done and then I look up and realise I still have a long way to go. But the patches of rust are smaller and further apart than they were two years ago. That I can see progress is such a relief. After all my effort I am glad that I can see some splashes of light from time to time.

Monster

I am embracing my flaws. Eminem anf Rhianna's Monster demonstrates this in a contagious ear worm format. We're all a little crazy. Some in a more socially acceptable (aka alcohol addiction) way than others but no one is immune to a little madness from time to time.

Rocking the self love

Tonight I cooked a veggie packed gluten free pasta (with optional chicken for the kids). I did some yoga. The kids massaged me. I used all my best beauty potions and I am in bed at 2130. Lights are off. Fan is on. Hoping sleep will find me.

When am I going to come first?

I am a woman who gives so freely. I do so without though of reciprocation. I do so because I love to. I only do so with people I deem worthy. Very few people fall into that category. I am difficult to please. I am fussy and I am very, very discerning. As a result, I have a very small circle of friends. Once you're in, I will tolerate more than is reasonable. I am forgiving and compassionate. But there is always a line. Step over it and the switch is flicked. You never get to come back. Ever.

Just once, I would like to come first (not literally, in a sexual sense) but figuratively. I want someone to just adore me. Dote on me and treat me like a princess. Just for a little bit.

Here I am thinking something akin to Jason Derulo's Trumpets. I imagine it would wear thin pretty quickly but it would be a nice change for a little while.

Words sting

In a conversation with my mum this morning she revealed that she does not think that my father loves me. I was saddened to hear that she thinks like that. Perhaps it is pain talking. I don't know the motivation behind her saying something so hurtful.

Now's not the time

My optimism is waning. I am struggling to see the light in life. I am not depressed but I am sad. I am not crazy but my mind goes a million miles a minute. I am overwhelmed; completely and utterly beyond capacity. I try so hard to do the right thing but I keep fucking up. I am tired. I don't want to hear about all the things I should be doing to attract a man. I am sick of the constant pressure at work to be more like someone else and less me. I miss my kids. I miss human contact. I want to be held and have someone tell me it is going to be okay. That, at some point, life is going to stop getting harder. I want to get something, any fucking thing, right. I want to make someone smile. I need to not feel like a complete and abject failure in just one thing.

A friend recently said that now is not the time for me; that my children will come to be with me in time. Someone else said that now is not the right time to find a man. People in my life continually defer me with the "not now" excuse when I ask difficult questions, hoping I will stop asking them.

A gorgeous friend asked me what's wrong recently. When I started reeling through the list I thought to myself 'no wonder I am knackered'. My kids miss me (and I them). My father is in hospital (it's not too serious but a firm reminder that the end is looming) and, consequently, my mum is stressed. I have not been able to get to gym which I rely very heavily on for the endorphin rush. I am out of contract at work. My cousin is having issues with her bestie. My sister is selling her home. My best friend's uncle just died and a legal battle looms. I cannot seem to get my lawyer to get the property settlement details right. I am frightened that my nursing friend is right and my hip pain is bone cancer but I can't afford the MRI. And despite all my best intentions and plans to the contrary, I fell hard for someone who is absolutely god damn fucking awesome but it's unlikely to work because he does not feel the same way as I do. So, I am trying to pull my heart back before the shards splinter my other internal organs and cause permanent and irreparable damage. I fear it is too late. I promised myself in 2009 that I would never fall in love again. I let me down. Again.

So, I have just a bit going on. No wonder I am stressed and deeply sad; the most sad I have ever been. I really need to drag my arse up and apply for jobs but I'm so tired. My eyes sting and my head is fuzzy. I can't hear properly anymore. I have to wear my glasses to be safe to drive. I haven't slept for five weeks. My world has been torn up. I just want to crawl into a hole, lie in the fetal position and sleep a dreamless slumber for a week.

I want to be able to keep my heart in tact. Though he may not want it; I have not yet given up hoping. The guy I love is not perfect. No one is. But I see his flaws, I am acutely aware of them in fact, and I still love him. I wish I didn't but I do.

Life's complicated. Now is not the time to deal with things. So I wrap my broken heart up as best I can, trying to hold the billion pieces together in case. Just in case. Hoping against hope for something I know in my soul won't happen but wanting it to anyway.

For some reason I cannot let go yet. I will fight for the man that I love because, to me, he is worth it. And I am the only one that matters. I am well beyond the point of caring what anyone else thinks of me. I. Don't. Give. A. Fuck. Try as I may I cannot seem to please anyone anyway so I am going to chase the one person, apart from my children and my family, that brings joy into my life. I live with so much guilt and regret already. I cannot afford to add to that pile.

So if now is not the time for me at least I will know that, like everything that has every meant anything to me, I have it my all. This time, however, rather than simply do as requested in order to appease (like I did woth my ex) I was honest and open and raw. I was me - insecure and passionate, crazy and insightful. If he decides that he does not want me I know that it is me he is rejecting. Not some false impression. Not a mask or a persona I invented to try to please him. He has seen me at my most ugly and I have never made false claims about who I am. I have not lied to him at any point about what I want and what I cannot tolerate. That gives me some peace. I know that, should he walk away, he walks away from me. I don't need to second guess things or wonder "what if" in a million different combinations because there is nothing more I can offer him. I am willing to give him everything. Only he can decide whether it is enough.

I have established boundaries and I do not want to live in limbo forever. He has a finite time in which to make a decision. My heart has been damaged enough in the past. This is not an ultimatum or a threat or a trick but a protective mechanism. I never mean ill with the things I do. I am the most deeply caring person I have ever met. I have nothing but my heart to lose and I could sit around forever waiting. And, for him, I would wait. And he knows it. But that is not healthy for him. It is for him that I do this. He has a difficult decision to make and it is one he needs to make actively rather than passively. I will gently push him to make a choice for it will make his life easier in the long run. He needs to step up and face this for he is the one that has to live it.

I may have fallen in love without wanting to but I have not let go of who I am in the process. That's growth. And that is something I am proud of. For I know that if he decides to walk away, I will be sad. I will miss him. I will spend months licking my wounds, a process that started weeks ago to be honest, but I can return to a core that will have been untouched.

Hitting the nail on the head

I am rarely surprised by people. Generally, they do exactly what I expect them to. This, however, is priceless.

Move

Men need to be cheetahs and not cheaters. Chase me. Make an effort. Move.

My body is a wonderland

I have body image issues. With everything that's been going on this year I haven't been going to gym and it really shows. Nothing fits, I feel like shit and I have no energy. As a result I am eating poorly which feeds the vicious cycle.

This goes some way to explaining my thought process at the moment, particularly the eloquent, succinct and accurate statement that "my brain enjoys weaving complex tapestries out of truth and false beliefs". 

There's not a lot wrong with my body. My left knee is cactus, my right shoulder rooted and I currently have significant issues with my right hip. My boobs are too small, my stomach too big, my arms and calves are chunky and I have wonky toes. But, fundamentally, there's nothing wrong with me. Yet I detest my body. I look at it with disgust and feel physically unwell when I accidentally see my reflection.

A friend was talking about natural beauty yesterday. He was saying his brother had run into a mutual friend when she wasn't wearing makeup and accused her of false advertising. Wow! Like he's a real Brad Pitt! Not.

Anyway, as I lay in bed contemplating the various interactions of the day, as I do, I came to the revelation that I am never going to have a perfect body. Let it go. Like with the rest of me, there are seven billion people out there, about a quarter of them men, surely one out of one point seven five billion there's one that is willing to treat my body as a wonderland.

Don't let me down

It is so refreshing to have people in my life that I can rely on. I am thankful for my divorce for showing me that there are good souls in the world.

Mum, Dad, Shelly, Paul, Sue, Candice, Lauren, Brad, Shelley, Jen, Paul, Jane, Liz, Rin, Kevin, Kieran, Paul and Katie; thank you. I know you won't let me down. Some days, that's all I need; to know that if it all goes to shit someone out of my support network will be there at my moment of need. I am not alone. I am loved. I am loveable and I am worthy.

All I need to do is look at the wonderful and truly beautiful people in my life to know that I am not unloveable. Some day I will meet a guy who will look at me, just as I am, and will fall madly in love with me. Until then I have plenty of people who love me for who I am. For now, they will be my reminder that my ex is wrong; I am loveable. Just. As. I. Am.

The mammoth task ahead is for me not to let me down like I have in the past. I need to be strong. I need to hold out for the guy that accepts and loves me for me. A guy that sees that I am a once in a lifetime opportunity, someone that's worth being with regardless of my flaws. That I am genuine; I don't do or say things for the hell of it and that everything I do is done with the best of intentions. I never mean any ill by what I do and say. I am quite sincere when I say I put others ahead of myself. I do so knowingly and willingly, always have, but my failed marriage has taught me that I need to have boundaries around that and maintain them in order to ensure that I am not taken for a ride. I am not like most people and, where I previously saw that as a fundamental flaw I can now see it as a great asset. I choose to continue to surround myself with people that appreciate the lengths I go to for them; who feed my soul and warm my heart in return for the things I do for them. I am completely self sufficient. While I would love someone to hold me and nurture me I don't need that. I need for nothing, in fact. But it has taken me five sleepless and traumatic weeks to finally find the clarity to see through the fog of pain in my heart and realise that I am not unloveable. I am loved by many people in my life.

Like all the other shit I have faced I will pull through this. It's just another fuckstain on the shitstorm that is my life and I will come out the other side of it. A little more scarred. A little less happy. A little more bitter. But alive. I am here and I won't let me down.

Escaping the pain of life

Val Kilmer's response to Philip Seymour Hoffman's death struck a chord with me. My last five or more years have been spent trying to escape pain. Physical pain. Emotional pain. Mental pain. I'm over it all. I just want one day, one fucking day where things don't get worse. Where, for a whole twenty four hours, I don't ache.

Basic wisdom

Sometimes the smartest things are the simplest in life:

Weakness

My father is in hospital again. Nothing major, thank goodness, but I always find it confronting and sad. A coworker asked how he was doing the other day. In relaying the latest news, my eyes welled up. Crying is often considered a sign of weakness. I have a different perspective. I believe weakness is avoiding the things in life that challenge you. I could have avoided the conversation (which may be have been considered rude). The person probing me is always looking for information. She does not mean to be insensitive but she is incapable of seeing that she is upsetting the person she is talking to.

I think strength comes from knowing what challenges you and proceeding anyway. Strength, to me, is facing adversity when you know there will be hurdles and doing so because it is the right thing to do. Strength is sometimes not achieved by holding on but by letting go. Sometimes the bigger battles are waged once you have changed your circumstances. In my limited experience, it is the weak that endure. The weak stay in abusive relationships because they are too scared to face the issues that will arise when they leave. The weak live their life pleasing others rather than chasing their unconventional dreams. It takes strength to break the mould; to do things differently.

Weakness is subjective. Strength is an inner quality, rarely seen by those looking from the outside. Strength comes from facing your fears and taking steps to change the way you do things in order to overcome those fears and truly live life.

Search light

Sometimes shining a spotlight on issues just makes you realise how ugly you are inside. That's how I am feeling today. Like an apple that has an intact skin but is rotten to the core.

I'm so ashamed of myself. I've made some bad choices. I know I can get it right all the time but just one day would be nice.

What matters most

Honesty and loyalty. That's it. Those two things are non negotiable.

Seeking the silver lining

I had arranged to go out with a friend tonight but it didn't work out. Instead I drove into the city to watch the fireworks for Chinese New Year and watch all the pretty people. En route, as I watched the bats come out of roosting and fly up the Eastern Freeway to gorge themselves on fruit in the Yarra Valley with a backdrop of a gorgeous summer sunset, I was blessed by the music Gods. I was treated to the sultry sounds of Pursuit of Happiness, Free, Next to Me, How Come You're Not Here (which I sang at the top of my lungs much to the dismay of the pedestrians) and my favourite song of 2014 Heartbreak Down.  For me, music is therapy.  So is walking. The mild evening was perfect for strolling which is exactly what I did.

I always love the fairy lights in the trees near Crown but tonight they were highlighted with Chinese lanterns.

There were street stalls and crowds galore. It was such a beautiful evening.

The night was topped off by the fact that I finally found, after years of searching, a yellow doona cover today. Reduced by a whopping $119.95; I snatched it up for less than $80.  It is cheery, clean and fresh and I get to pretend to sleep under it all night.

Men

By my reckoning, there are essentially six types of men
- the alpha male - the manly, self-satisfied and driven leader
- the jock - the testosterone-charged sportsman with brains in his biceps
- the geek - the quiet intellectual
- the hipster - the overeducated thrift shopper
- the player - the charming, confident and arrogant dick
- the douchebag slimeball - 'nuf said

Like most women, I have a deep attraction to the alpha male. I like manly men with biceps that'll hug me tight. I like men that keep their pants on when in public (the bog-catcher look does nothing for me). Eyes and lips are important - I like eye contact and kisses are exceptionally underrated. There is no such thing as too many kisses.

However, the alpha male can easily slip into a player. Women love him so he'll take what he can get and that usually means vying for the affection of more than one women. The player is a skilled liar; a smooth talker who balances sporadic compliments with frequent insults.

Endless hot water

I am usually quick in the shower. however, there are days when I am very thankful I do not have endless hot water. Today is one of them. I wouldn't have got out of the shower otherwise. Today is one of those days where I find total escapism in the shower. I'm enclosed in a small environment and I'm warm. Outside is a minefield of crap I don't want to have to deal with. In those few minutes that I am in the shower the heat reduces my pain, the steam clouds the air and the noise dulls my mind. Bliss.

Until the water turns from hot to warm and I know I have to turn it off and step back into the cold harsh reality of my fucked up life.