Well to “they” I say: Twaddle..
I could probably stop right there, because really – that sentence does sum it all up. But I have a predisposition to talk shit (it comes with the boobs) and so I’m gonna add more. And as someone who’s done the opposites ‘attract’ deal, I even feel like I’m moderately qualified to speak on this theme!
Not content to marry (then divorce!) a guy who was so fundamentally wrong for me, some years later I went on to spend 1/3 of a decade with another man to whom I was physically attracted but who was a mental marshmallow .. we honest to god had nothing in common except .. well .. you know..
Amazing how long that type of “relationship” can last when you’re young, dumb and full of .. the joys of life And in all fairness to marshmallow-man, we did have loads of fun cos he was a not just very funny – he was also charming, albeit a total lightweight in the brain-stakes.
When we split I said “never again, I need a man with a brain”, however again to be fair – I can since recall times I’ve been bored to the brink of stabbing myself in the eye with a fork (just for something to do!) with men who are intellectuals because somehow they shut off their sense of humour in the process of becoming big giant brains.
As always it comes down to balance huh.
Interestingly, to me anyway – the whole misconception about opps attracting seems to be so very common. Not helped I am sure, by every romance novel reminding you that Mr tall dark and brooding (and of course: independently wealthy and so handsome he makes your eyes ache) is going to fall madly in love with the meek, left leaning well-bought up virgin he rescued from a fracas in a bar last Tuesday.
*insert dry retching noises here*
An element of difference is acceptable / normal and probably even a good thing but I’m a firm believer that there needs to be a core of alignment – there has to be some fundamental similarities between you in order for any relationship to stand the tests of time.
Right this cynical old biddy is off in pursuit of a cheese burger (the blogger I’ve linked that to assures me it will cure my slight hangover.. so I’m going to test the theory) Happy daze people!
This is inspired by the dearth of recent blog entries on WordPress with the theme of “what Xmas means to me”..
For me, Xmas means: Bedlam in shops, traffic jams, harried people, broke people, crying kids, godawful music, tinsel, dead trees, turkeys and pigs. THEN there is the fact you can’t go shopping on the day, tough shit if you need milk. We’re shut. Deal with it. Selfish, huh!
Of course, Xmas also means: Summer holidays, swimming at the beach, BBQs, strawberries, cherries, champagne, parties and pavlova. Of course these are my adult Xmas “feelings” about this time of year.
When I think back to my childhood, Christmas meant excitement, gifts, people smiling, laughter, good food and being allowed to stay up a bit later than normal. Plus a whole host of other things that were usually positive .. but not always ..
In my childhood we didn’t open any gifts until 5pm on Xmas day. Not so positive, tis fair to say. We did get to eat strawberries, fruit cake and drink (watered down) sherry for breakfast. Not all bad. We got to stay up late so we could actually see the lights on everyone’s trees .. because it’s daylight savings here in Dec, so it isn’t dark til after 9pm!
My family did the “clan gathering” thing every single year and, as far as it goes for a kid, nothing could be more fun! However for the wimmen-folk I’m gonna guess it meant cooking for 12 days solid in 30+ degree temperatures, because everyone always said “yes” to the question: “Shall we stick to traditional Xmas fare?”
I wonder how much my Grandmother, Mother and aunts wished just once we’d all say “let’s just chuck a snag and some shreemp on the Barbee” – but we were never asked.. traditional was de rigour!
It’s Christmastime after all!
And so it was that at lunchtime we would sit down to a large table groaning with a giant glazed ham, there was always roast lamb or beef and of course all the trimmings. Jugs brimmed with dark meaty gravy, apple sauce, mint sauce, mustards and naturally there would be tureens filled with every vegetable known to man – many of them roasted, to ensure the kitchen temp never dropped below a balmy 45 degs C (some 113F, I think) ..
And since Dec is the height of Summer, there was never any breeze, except for when we kids would whizz by on a mission to grab some tasty treat when we hoped Motherly eyes were distracted.
Those red faced, wooden spoon weilding women were generally on to us tho .. It took a lot of careful planning to nab a biscuit tin without being caught. But Oh the spoils when we succeeded, because Grandma’s pantry was positively brimming with tins that contained a cornucopia of sweet treats: Sugar crystal topped shortbread, fruit tarts, sultana and / or date loaves, pikelets, gingerbread, Belgium biscuits, Afghans – you name it, she had them.
But I digress..
Lunchtime was our main meal and we knew that – along with the aforementioned gorgeous food, we’d also have to save a little room for pavlovas with whipped cream, strawberries and cream, trifle, and the piece de resistance: Gran’s flaming christmas pudding with runny, brandy laced custard (How I loved finding the little coins inside!) and of course: fruit tarts and fruit cake with cheeses and then chocolates to finish.
As kids, this all just magically appeared not unlike an Hogwart’s feast. How those house-elves had to slave to ensure a successful dinner was had by all..
Nowadays, nothing on this planet can convince me to attend a family Xmas. Everyone is still there incl lots more kids and just as much food and presents as ever, but .. and maybe my tolerance levels are lower than they were .. now I just think the whole thing is silly. And I really dislike seeing the worn out faces of the women, as the day progresses.
I wish we could all just ignore the fact it’s xmas and sit around with some crackers, some cheese and some wine .. AND relax.
And you know what?
My Grandma says she wishes the same! Usually around the same time each year she calls me to say “you’re not coming again this year, are you dear?” I swear, I hear envy in her tone but nothing more! lol
Ah yes, Christmas. A time of peace and joy. Or of stress and of exhaustion.. ?
Ultimately the choice is yours once you are no longer a child who has to attend along with the rest of your family and I choose to do mine either alone or with friends, in a relaxed and pleasant way.
So, what does Xmas mean to you .. And how do you and yours celebrate this more than crazy tradition?
for another year. Always makes me laugh how everyone bangs on about how stressful Xmas is. Is that because the date changes each year that you’re so surprised and not ready for it? Hmm.. Anyway for your daily dose of cynicism, well let’s just say you’re in the right place!
I am nursing a less than pleasant blend of sunburn and headache after a fantastic day in the sunshine with an odd assortment of people. Turns out splashing oneself in champagne doesn’t save you from burning. I mean heck, who knew ..
So this morning I’m sitting here sipping strong coffee (and swallowing drugs as fast as I can) and I check my emails to find one from the daughter of a friend of mine.
She wanted to share with me some pictures of her xmas pressie, from her boyfriend. They’re 15. It’s adorable in that eye-stabbing kind of way.
And as I flicked thru the pics I realised what a nasty piece of work I was, cos I muttered to myself “Yeah cos that’s gonna happen”..
You see, the dear boy (and he does seem sweet) had bought her a teddy bear and on the bear’s shirt was their names and the words: “together forever” .. Which is what bought about my cynical comment.. I know, like I said – nasty piece of work
Speaking of work, I aint got none! For 2 glorious weeks! Which means one thing: NO need to get up early. Which means what else!?
You guessed it.. It’s party season! And in 3 hours I am off to the first of many Summer BBQ’s .. Funny to think we’re on the day after Xmas while you’re all half way through yours..
I trust that everyone is having a “wonderful Xmas time”, as the song goes
PS Yeah, sorry about Santa being late…
But I’ve always had a thing for a man in a suit..
If, by some quirk of circumstance, I was given the chance to go back in time and give myself some advice I think maybe I’d start by saying “it’s OK to make mistakes”. I was raised to believe that mistakes were failures.. When in fact I now know that they are simply a chance to learn something .. I spent my teens and 20′s worrying every time I screwed something up (which was reasonably often cos duh it’s what we do best at that age!) and that was not time or energy well spent.
1. Regret less. That would be something I’d say to my younger self.
2. Go with your gut. Tune it finely, then listen to it!
3. Love. Love wisely, love deeply. And love often.
4. Friends come and friends go. Enjoy them while they’re friends, let them go when they are not. There was a number of times I fretted over a friendship that faded for reasons I couldn’t identify.. I know now it sometimes just happens.
5. Dark chocolate and red wine are health food. Enjoy!
6. Surround yourself with beauty.
7. Swim naked whenever presented with the chance. It’s a wonderful feeling. Not after the company xmas party though.. Decorum suggests at least keeping your sox on.
8. Don’t live your life trying to impress others. Turns out they either don’t care or they like you just the way you are.
9. Plan for the worst – but don’t welcome or invite it into your life.
10. Make different mistakes. Refer earlier “they’re lessons” statement
11. Save money – but don’t be so worried about saving anything else. Sleep in the best linen you can afford. Eat jam sandwiches off that exquisite dinner set your Mother kept in the cupboard ’til she died. That last drop of beautiful perfume is best applied to the nape of your neck before you go out on a date than it is going sour in the bottle at the back of the cupboard.
The saddest task I did after my Mum died was to dispose of all the things she felt she had to save.
There’s probably more, like the fact I think laying back cloud watching is something everyone should make time to do. Or the obvious ones like “be kind”. But I think those 11 are my top tips to a younger me.
And now, it’s time to go and sit in the sun and drink some ice cold champagne, eat some gorgeously ripe strawberries and send Christmassy texts to all my friends.
Merry Christmas to me .. And to you
It’s Xmas eve here in my part of the world, the sun is blazing as I toddle around my apartment in shorts & singlet (the doors & windows are open to try and keep the place at a nice temperature)
I’ve got rock music blaring. I’ve got champagne chilling. I’ve got gorgeous food in the fridge. Friends threatening to drop by all through the day tomorrow (and / or this evening) Oh yeah and I’ve got scotch fillet ready for my cats.
I’m ready Christmas – bring it
Whatever you are doing this Xmas, wherever you are – I wish for you a safe and enjoyable day.
With shit loads of presents, food and wine
PS the random tree pics are the official Christmas tree in New Zealand flowering just in time for December – I love them!
If nothing else it makes people think you got laid? I love misguided people and gosh let’s face it, the planet is simply groaning with them but why (whyyyyy!?) do they all seem to congregate around me?
What the $#@! is she on about? Well, I dunno really. Bear with me and we’ll see where this goes cos it’s 6am and I’m still half asleep. I guess I’m kind of responding to a very sweet email someone sent me after reading my last blog entry.
You see, apparently I am giving off the wrong energy to the universe
SO this is to replace that post with something less “tragic” in tone to a) ensure people do not think I’m about to top myself and to b) remind the universe that I’m a liddle bit crazy but not completely there .. yet
Hmm what to say, what to say .. There’s a reason I don’t tend to blog during the week – I don’t write well under time constraints, clearly!
OK I’ve got it – did you know that I’m that woman? (At 42 I suspect I am too old to call myself a girl) But I digress .. as usual..
I’m that woman.
The one the crazy people on public transport just KNOW to sit next to cos I will talk to you if you engage with me. The one the homeless people on the streets smile at and wave. Preferably from up-wind.. Annoyingly, I’m the one kids gravitate towards too. They can smell my fear?
But that’s nothin’!
Yesterday I was walking along and some gang members (from a very nasty gang) were sauntering along. I didn’t notice them til I was almost in their personal space (which as a rule should be kept very LARGE) I looked up and smiled without really thinking and said “excuse me” and I got the sweetest smile back from this big black bad ass.
He looked as shocked as me, as we side stepped each other and kept on going – it made me smile to think I can even make gang members (who’d beat their own Mother up for a few dollars) smile! Maybe he’ll be nicer to his girlfriend for a few days, who knows!
I kinda like the idea of random things like that. We have a few character homeless people in the city I live and they all know me cos I sneak them drinks (coffee or energy – not bourbon! lol) or sandwiches every now and then. And they are just so surprised each time. OK so they’re coked out of their tiny minds and don’t recognise me: That’s why they’re surprised?
Without wanting to sound Pollyanna-ish, I do love the notion of smiling at the world. Of course, some days when the world has taken a dump on you from a great height, this aint easy to achieve but most days, I find it’s a nice way to be.
Yesterday was a dump-day no two ways about it .. Today I’m gonna rock on out there and see what happens (got my hard hat and brolley just in case) Happy daze everyone, it’s time to go to work!
Don’t panic, this isn’t going to be a porno-posting (or self help for frustrated women).. well, yeah it could be termed the latter I suppose.
You see, some comments on a recent post of mine have got me thinking. Moreso than I usually do, which could be good or bad – I am as yet unsure
I love how the people who comment on my blog are generally both humorous and helpful in their thinking. It really is quite awesome .. especially as some of my rants could realistically be met with “harden the fuck up, woman” (or just “fuck up, woman”?!)
This relates back to my “common themes” post, where I lament the fact there doesn’t seem to be a common theme viz it’s harder for me to “FIX” the problem.
However the reality is, I am assured that until I love myself – I cannot find true love.
So to you I ask … how did you find true love? And what does true love mean to you? How do you not get bored? How do you not hate where you’re at such that you leave it?
WHAT makes it work for you?
I am intrigued.
I’ve never been one to much care about what others think. I tend to do my own thing and just figure shit out for me .. but I am learning lots from both emails and comments, so figure why not try it s’more ..
I am a reasonably attractive woman. My best friend says I “pull like a tractor”. (She isn’t gay but I do like her best, heh) I am not even <-> this much interested in having babies or white picket fences. Could be good, could be bad, I know.I don’t need you to earn money to support me (and / or my kith and kin). I have a brain. A well utilised one. A job. A well paid one. I am well travelled. Well educated.
But not a wanker, for all these earlier statements..
I do charity work. By choice. Force me to do something and we have a-whole-nother issue. But if I care, you will know. A lot. I take care of those I choose to. I love my country, my family, my friends and my world…
But have no man to do this alongside.
(insert tragic loser musack here)
And yes. I would like a man to go thru life with.
Because I’m hard wired to? Because every girl I went to school with has one? (Happily or otherwise) because I should?
I DON’T KNOW!
Which comes back to (I told you before, I am logical… sorry) why I can’t find true love. Do I want that or do I want … mm I don’t know ..
Why do humans feel the need to be paired up with someone? What’s missing (apart from the obvious sexual equipment!) in our lives .. in ourselves.. that makes us think we can find that completion in some other person?
And just how illogical is that concept, when you stop to really think about it!?
Here’s a complete stranger I spy across the crowded room. He’s cuuuute, nice smile. Mmm, nice ass too. Ohhh.. a platinum credit card. I’m in love.. OK OK I’m being cynical but this is one of those posts, so bear with me.
I was watching some show on telly awhile back that showed jungle cats in their natural habitat – including their way of finding a mate.. It was fascinating!
Animal attraction is explainable..
They don’t have to fuck around with telling each other how much they love them. Engagement rings, valentines day, walks on the beach, movie night.. Whatever! If they give each other the silent treatment it’s cos they’re hiding from something .. They’re concerned with survival..
What’s important to them is sourcing their next meal, warding off prey, protecting their young, their turf etc All things they do, and many of these things are done together but their roles are clear and they just get on with it.
She never sits with the baby moaning because he’s off at work all day. When he brings home the bacon (or deer or rabbit) she sets to doing her bit and life is all ticketty-boo.
So why can’t we be as sorted as the jungle cats or rabbits or .. even the domesticated moggy most of us have?
Oh yeah cos they have instincts, where we have brains..
Big fat friggen lot of good the brains do us though huh. It enables us over analyse, stress out and think about things way more than is probably healthy…
Next guy I see that I think is cute, I’m gonna walk up snarl at him, snatch some food off him then rub myself up his arm and purr..
Let’s see how that works for me..
Does that include not having one, I wonder?
Hands up if you think there should be a quiz we can get any prospective partners to take, which contains the necessary questions to help us decide if they’re going to turn out to be a complete schlep for all that they seem incredible on meeting #1
One of the questions I’d have on my quiz would be what they think of this statement:
“Peace at any cost”
It’s largely the same as the title of this blog but perhaps spells out a bit better how crummy a concept it is!
Don’t get me wrong – I loathe chaos and discontent. Peace is something I am very “at peace” with. However the rest of that statement is what freaks me out!
AT ANY COST.
In other words, I will not speak my mind. I will put up with shit.. I will tolerate all manner of things. Probably even going without lots of things. All for a quiet life..?
Not for me thank you!
If I believe in something I will stand up for it. If I dislike something, I will fight against it or try to change it. The whole concept of ‘peace at any price’ simply defeats me.
Do you suppose at some point people like this ‘go postal’ as years of pent up rage simmers up to a boil? I wouldn’t wanna be around when they blow ..
Why can’t we have a bit of balance?
I think it’s OK to give a damn about things.
To care deeply about something or someone. To know when to keep your mouth shut, and to know when to take a stand.
It doesn’t have to be all or nothing – does it?