Monthly Archive for April, 2009

Got a Spare $12 000?

Published on April 30, 2009 in Beloved and Married Life. 5 Comments

Lately I have been swamped with a feeling that was all too familiar about 5 years ago. Everyone was getting engaged and married and I was so, so envious. Boyfriend-Beloved would tell me it would happen all in good time. And it did. And due to the time factor I got a pretty nice rock and pretty nice wedding too. (Not to mention the husband)

At the moment everyone is pregant or has just had a child. I can’t go onto Facebook without seeing another squished-faced newborn swathed in blankets peering at me. And again I am so, so envious. And again Beloved tells me it will all happen in good time.

But this is different. Waiting isn’t going to make it any better, more expensive or shinier. Waiting is gonna make it shrivel and get older and less fertile.

Even moreso with the economic down-turn, I understand the need to pay off my debts before pushing out the puppies. But my my ovaries can’t hear that over the tick of my biological clock.

Today I Realised:

Published on April 26, 2009 in Beloved, Books n Stuff, Lazy Bitch, Married Life and Pop Culture. 1 Comment

My Beloved is taking me for granted. He is infinitely more interested in his motorbike, camera and computer at the moment, while I have been emailing him daily reports on ‘this time last year’ from our honeymoon in Europe, with photos. I didn’t do him one yesterday and I don’t think he will be getting one today either. As a slight dent in the recompense I feel I am owed I have strongly suggested he buy us La Premiere tickets to see Star Trek 11 when it opens here.

If I don’t exercise for a number of days in a row I feel blah, bored and slightly depressed. I haven’t exercised since Monday and I feel rat-shit.

That I should be doing some lesson preparation. Instead I am going to go back to bed, even though it is nearly 11am. I have a headache. I will do it when i get up in an hour or so. Probably. Maybe.

I really enjoyed the Twilight film. I am a huge fan of the books so I thought it would disappoint. Surprisingly I was able to compartmentalise the two quite well and consequently enjoyed the film. Moody, gothic, yet cute. The thing that shat me was how Kristen Stewart played Bella – so damn ‘Dawson’s Creek‘ and so….twitchy.

Blonde is probably a better colour for me. But a change is as good as a holiday right?

Over-Sharers Anonymous

Published on April 23, 2009 in Can't be bothered categorising and Queen Me. 2 Comments

One of my facebook mates has decided that I should be the founding member of Over-Sharers Anonymous. And I tend to agree. Why am I missing that part of my brain that says it isn’t the most lady-like thing to advertise you are going to have your once-every-two-years Pap smear this morning? (Sorry to all the people who were eating breakfast at the time they got that delightful mental image)

You have to be an over-sharer to have a blog – it is the nature of the beast. People want juicy details, gossip, stuff that they can relate to or at least make them feel better about their own lives. Who wants to read a blog without guts and gore?

It is funny, out of the friends that I have lost over the years, it is the under-sharers that have gone first. You don’t have to tell me the details of your last cervical exam but if you can’t tell me that your boyfriend pissed you off cos he blew his nose in the shower and left boogers on the tiles AGAIN or that it has been so long since you had sex you are a born-again virgin or even that you sharted last week…..twice, (An aside: Oh. My. God. Check this out. Over-Sharers HEAVEN) well, if you can’t tell me that and I have known you for at least 2 weeks, well, move on to more pristine pastures cos I want the unmanicured stuff. And I suppose what annoyed me about the under-sharers was that somehow tacit with their tight-lippedness was the idea that their lives were somehow perfect. And I find that supremely arrogant.

I must mention that one of my bestest friends was not always a sharer (and she STILL hasn’t farted in front of me yet, in over 20 years! I am determined that proud day will happen soon) What changed? I think it was when she discovered alcohol and our glorious friendship has continued in leaps and bounds.

Now, I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong impression of myself – I will hazard to say that in all my over-sharing, I hope I don’t come across as a slapper, common or trailer…..just….a little feisty, a tad feral, sometimes flippant, often fervent, partially fey and a lot fetid.

But back to the original topic of this post – I have been having a little think. Our slogan? Sharing is NOT caring.

A Maudlin Self-Indulgent Rant (Alternative Title: Don’t Read this if Self-Pity Enrages You)

Published on April 19, 2009 in Cranky/Dopey Bitch, Married Life and Queen Me. 2 Comments

I wrote this a while ago, as you will see from the references to my honeymoon. However, I am sorta feeling the same way so I though I would post it, in honour of that.

Sometimes I feel poisonous. Like, why would anyone want to be my friend by choice - let alone marry me and god, don’t you feel sorry for my family?

By the way, Hi! I am back from my glorious honeymoon in Europe which I thoroughly enjoyed. I have many stories that I will soon share but I feel a bit too ‘meh’ at the moment to give them the oomph they deserve. I am combating post wedding and honeymoon blues. For two years I had something to plan and look forward to. Yeah, sure, babies are on the cards but until the lil insect is actually in the pupae stage only then will I get excited and anally retentively plan the next 10 years of the poor bugger’s life. So until then my nice-house-car-husband-and-friends future seems a little bleak. I know – pathetic. I am healthy and generally happy but all I do is whinge. It is what I do best.

My point. I know I am not a nice person. You probably know that from these blogs. Unless you are a family member, you will at least know that I am not very nice in my head. In person I can be considered friendly, funny and feral. Those who are family or have the pleasure of knowing me too well know that I can be impatient, rude, intolerant and snappy.

Every so often this gets pointed out to me. I am usually well aware when I am behaving badly but no matter how aware of it I am, and how much I pep talk myself into taking deep breaths, I will snap, snipe or growl. I generally control myself with friends, colleagues and acquaintances but it is my nearest and dearest who cop it.

Everyone has their flaws. Arrogance, insecurity, lack of common-sense, tactlessness, frugality, indecisiveness, bossiness etc. Whether they are born with it or have nurtured it, they have it. However my ‘thing’ is one that hurts people directly. I never mean to be mean – I am too gutless to be purposefully malicious. But I might as well be when something unthinking and mean pops out of my mouth making someone I love feel like shit.

But it is hard to have someone tell you you’re basically a mean person. It hurts cos it is true. But it just hurts too. Everyone else gets to keep their flaws close to their chest and thinly veiled. But my flaw is aired. I mean – everyone displays theirs quietly and sneakily but other people aren’t supposed to comment. I can’t have my misdirected revenge by retaliating with ‘Well, you’re……whatever’ because that highlights my flaw even further!

I think I had a point with this. Maybe not. Who cares? I have had headaches on and off ever since I got back to work and I don’t feel like hiding my crazy anymore. I dunno, maybe when I am next mean to you I am hoping you will go: ‘Oh well, I guess my crazy is easier to hide.’ Or something.

Blah.

Next blog: The cute, fluffy puppies of Europe. It’ll be all sunshine and butterflies. I promise.

Something You Can Do For Free

Published on April 16, 2009 in Can't be bothered categorising, Lazy Bitch and Queen Me. 3 Comments

I was been trying to think of things I like to do for free. I didn’t think writing ‘picking my nose’ was appropriate even though there is nothing more satisfying than mining some good green gold.

At the moment I can only think of one other thing….something I am about to do very soon….and that is nap. I am the certified Queen of Napping. On the school holidays I will often nap every day. I am not a huge one for sleeping in – I end up with a sore back and feeling fuzzy for a good while after I get up. I would far prefer to get up early and then have a mid-afternoon constitutional.

Everyone teases me about my ‘Nanna naps’ but the thing is - I have been napping since I was a teenager. I have always been in the position education or job-wise to always have time for at least one weekly nap.

And don’t talk to me about this power nap bull. If it isn’t at LEAST an hour, it ain’t worth it. Although I am finding lately that an hour just about does it. And none of this napping on couches. I have to be in bed, under the covers.

So there you have it. Something that is easy and free. *Yawn* I might just go have one now…..bollocks – the sheets are on the washing line. Do I go the couch or the spare bedroom?

How Did I Grow Up So Bloody Selfish?

Published on April 12, 2009 in Beloved, Cranky/Dopey Bitch, Queen Me and Teaching. 3 Comments

Beloved’s Gran passed away early on Thursday morning. She was just shy of her 94^th birthday and according to all who knew her, she lived a long and adventurous life. I had only met her about half a dozen times but she captured me with her gorgeous long plaits, her sprightly manner and interesting stories.

We knew she wasn’t travelling too well on Tuesday night. Beloved’s dad was told and was making his way back from his ‘retirement holiday’ in the UK. He and his wife are living in the UK for a few years to travel around. However due to the current economic situation they were going to come back in July. He was in the middle of a long planned holiday when he got the news.

We too were about to embark upon a holiday. Beloved is going through a hard time at work, being involved in a court case which has meant lots of stress and long hours. I was at the end of a long term at school. We had planned a week-long trip to visit my sister in the town of Karratha. There is nothing much there but all we were planning to do was eat, drink, relax, swim, chat and drink some more. After Easter with her and her husband we were off to Karijini Gorge with one of Beloved’s groomsmen who works on a mine up North. After two days of spectacular sight-seeing we were going to spend a few days in his ‘hometown’ with some more eating, drinking, napping and chatting to be had.

We cancelled. I was so disappointed I could vomit. But where were my thoughts of poor Beloved/his Gran/his dad/his uncle/his cousins? All I could think of was my bloody self and acted like a brat to boot. I mean I wasn’t reprehensible but I still pouted. One of my Facebook mates had to send me a private email to pull me up on my behaviour after one of my status updates:

Grumpy Young Lady’s husband has gone to Coles in a huff. WHATEVER. Sometimes she needs HIM to think about household stuff. She can’t always take the mental responsibility for the running of the household. Anyway – who want go food shopping tipsy?

I was annoyed cos he had been home all day pissing about and then at 7:30pm decided we needed food for when his dad maybe came to stay on Good Friday. I had also had a few glasses of wine.

My friend, who knew of the general situation, due to other update, wrote:

GYL,

Just saw your status update from an hour ago. You can tell me to f$)& off if you want, but as a friend, I just wanted to tell you that in times of hardship like what Beloved is going through with his Nanna passing away, try & be extra sensitive.

I’m guessing it’s probably bugging you that you couldn’t go on your planned trip but don’t forget it’s not in his control what just happened.

I’m guessing based on the fact you share some similarities with my wife & our general life situations, you might be aggro in a time when Beloved’s after some moral support.

Happy for you to hurl abuse my way if you wish.

And boy, did I feel ashamed, and rightly so.

I know Beloved too was disappointed – he certainly needed the break more than me. I still get two weeks off. He is going to go straight back to work, not wanting to ‘waste’ his annual leave at home. And his dad – on the trip of a life-time, cut short AND not finding out his mum had passed (mobile phone not working) until he actually landed in Perth. Imagine – that 26 hour flight, hoping she would still be alive. Sigh.

And of course this post has been all about me, me, me – even if it has focused on what a selfish ingrate I can be. I don’t want to be like this. Is there a course on how to be selfless and nurturing, cos I really need to take it. Three times perhaps.

My thoughts go to Beloved and his family at this sad time. It is comforting to know that Gran lived a long and exciting life, and that after 40 years, she will be reunited with her beloved husband.

5 Consumer Items That I Love

Published on April 10, 2009 in Books n Stuff, Can't be bothered categorising and Pop Culture. 1 Comment

I know we are in a global economic crisis but meh. Sometimes it is nice to think about the things we can buy to give us that warm, happy glow. Perhaps next post will be about the free things that do the same.

Clinque ‘Almost Make-Up’. It is more than a tinted moisturiser and less than a full foundation. Gives excellent coverage without being too heavy. It also have sunscreen in it. Foundation makes me look old but this stuff gives me a youthful glow, or so I like to imagine.

Cadbury Creme Eggs. Soooo addicted. I have to play a game with myself when I am doing the food shopping, especially when on my healthy eating kicks. ‘If I see one on the way back to the check-out I am allowed to have one.’ Which is cheating really, cos they are EVERYWHERE!

Books! I know – what a cop-out item. However, I will give you a specific. I just read The Adoration of Jenna Foxby Mary E. Pearson. I read a lot of teen fiction and I really enjoyed this mix of teen romance, social science-fiction and mystery. Some bits could have been worked on like the odd character of Dane (ie fleshed out a bit more – heard his story) and I felt there wasn’t a satisfying enough climax, but still – thoroughly readable and thought provoking.

RPM class at the gym. I have only just gutsed up to go, and I love it. I thought I wouldn’t be fit enough but it is easy enough to work at your own pace. It gets your heart going and the music is motivating. Make sure you get the correct technique or else your arse will hurt for days. (Sit back on the seat, hold in your abs and plant your bum firmly to stop yourself wobbling around)

Rosemount ‘O’. Low alcohol sparkling wine. It is pretty sweet but not a sweetness that lingers and clags up your taste buds. Perfect over ice in Summer. I can easily drink a bottle to myself!

I am Woman, Hear me Age

Published on April 7, 2009 in Can't be bothered categorising, Fighting the Fat and Teaching. 4 Comments

There is nothing like the young and beautiful frolicking on a memorable evening of fun to make you want to slash your wizened, veiny, old-lady wrists. I have been at my school for four years now and finally, a year 12 cohort who I actually taught, had their ball.

Dress a student up in a swanky three piece suit or a shiny dress and immediately – kids I have known for years – I forget their names. They are just so out of context and grown-up looking.

One thing I couldn’t get over was how stunning all of the girls looked. I won’t say there weren’t any fashion disasters but all of them looked radiant. It was a confection of silk, satin, taffeta, diamantes and sequins. The dresses ranged from a wedding-dress-if-it -were-white to cute cocktail. There were fake tans, taloned nails, nests of hair and acres of toned, teenage flesh, taunting me. Did I ever look that good? I am sure if I got my 17 year old body back I bet I would be freaking pleased but geez – what is in the water these days?

I am not an old crone but seeing all these gorgeous girls – you really feel the passing of the baton to the younger generation. And it depressed me. What have I got going for me? And I guess there is one thing…that they won’t have for a little while yet – and that is life experience. I am a woman. They are but girls, albeit in the body of hot, young, lithe and unlined mini-women. I held that positive thought dear until I couldn’t see my spider-veined legs, southward heading boobs and crows-feet-ed eyes through a veil of shameful tears, as I tried nearly everyone one of the cute lil desserts at the buffet table.

Let’s add cellulite and stretch marks to the list shall we?

A Bleeding Heart Misplaced

Published on April 3, 2009 in Beloved and Fighting the Fat. 3 Comments

Have you ever met someone whose life seemed too awful and tragic to be true? Did you meet that person and detected a cynical whiff of bullshit because, surely – how could a person go through all of that?

Meet my ex personal trainer. When Beloved joined the gym he received a complimentary personal training session which he gave to me. She was small, with long blonde hair, early 30s, French-German with a ready laugh and generous nature. She said that fitness was her passion and because I was keen she ended up given me four free hour long sessions.

For Christmas, Beloved wanted to buy me 10 sessions with her but I couldn’t get in phone contact with her and she wasn’t at the gym. When I asked the other staff they said she was ‘sick’ with a tone that suggested more than a cold but they didn’t want to say more.

Shortly after Christmas she sms-ed me, saying she had been ill and her phone was broken. I asked her:

‘Did you have a nice Christmas?’

‘Yeah – it wasn’t too bad.’

‘Did you spend it with family?’

No – I don’t have any.’

‘Here – in Australia?’

‘No – just no family.’

‘Oh.’

I loved training with her – how hard she trained me depended on whether she was feeling more French or German. Normally it was German and I was becoming famous at the gym as the client who was routinely butt-kicked. My personal favourite was her getting me to kneel on a fit ball. That took about 15 minutes and a surprising amount of sweat. THEN I had to pick up a 4kg hand-weight off the floor in front of the fit-ball.

I got to know a little bit about her and time progressed. She was a gymnast in Germany and also coached gymnastics. She plays soccer, she is a qualified chef, has a degree in music and has part of a degree in physiotherapy. She also has a ‘partner’ of a few months. In my cheeky lil brain I was convinced she was gay because of her lack of the use of a gender specific pro-noun. A couple of times I had to stop myself from saying ‘she’ rather than ‘they’ or ‘your partner’.

Right from the off-set I knew that she was a little unreliable. At least once a week a training session had to be rearranged but I knew she was having problems with her housemate, as well trying to take her citizenship test. I also found out why she was sick. Her leukaemia had returned – and she didn’t want treatment. This concerned her doctors because she didn’t have any family to convince her otherwise.

When my 10 sessions were up I decided to buy 10 more – I was feeling better than I ever had. But I was very wary of putting any pressure on her – I didn’t want her to do it if she wasn’t up to it physically but I also knew she needed the money. I gave her plenty of opportunities to back out. She was a bit odd like that – in some things she was very open but when it came to her love life and money she was quite cagey. But I figure it might be a cultural thing or just general good manners. Not everyone is a blabbermouth like me.

One day on the rowing machine I ventured a question about her family. I like to get to know people and quite honestly I can’t really fathom non-sharers. I know there is such a thing as being discreet and having a bit of mystery but that ain’t me. I am a sharer from way back. She said that her sister had died in car accident about 6 years ago. Her mum died of a heart-attack a week after that. Her brother died a few years later but she did not elaborate on how and I surmise that perhaps it wasn’t through accident or illness.

During the sessions I also became aware that she was having money difficulties, issues with her living situation as well as her health problems. She was working as a waitress/chef at night, while trying to find a higher paying job and a place to live. The gym at which I attend was pressuring their personal trainers to pay exorbitant amounts of rent which they couldn’t pay due to the economic down-turn. At one stage they were locking them out of the gym, which impacted on me and my training. Often she would cancel, feeling too sick to get up in the morning. I felt so badly for her – wanting to offer her a room at our house if she ever needed it. (I never did because I didn’t know how to bring it up with this virtual stranger without sounded like a weirdo stalker)

By the time our sessions were winding up she was sleeping at friends’ places (and one of her last experiences in her old flat was of a group of indigenous Australians loitering around and trying to break in) and living out of her car. She sounded like shit, her face was gaunt and often her gums were so sore and swollen she could hardly talk.

The week and a half before my sister’s wedding (which is what I was training for) she was so sick she couldn’t train me. It was also hard to get in contact with her as her phone was yet again broken. I hadn’t quite had all of my sessions but I wasn’t going to worry about that. (She was always giving me one hour sessions when I had only paid for 45 minutes.)

After the wedding I tried to find out how she was. I sms-ed her twice, trying to see if she was okay, letting her know that the wedding was great and that thanks to her, I looked pretty great in the two bridesmaid dresses my sister had chosen for me for. But she never replied and she was not at the gym anymore.

Perhaps her phone was broken again. Perhaps she thought I would hit her up for those ‘missed’ sessions. Call me a bleeding heart but I just wanted to know if she was okay. I thought we had forged a semblance of a friendship. But then again, when you are paying someone a dollar a minute they gotta put on their friendly face, right? And just because I share with people it doesn’t mean we are automatically mates.

All in all I guess she is just too complicated. I don’t know if everything she told me was true. She could be the most tragic person I have ever met or she could be the biggest mentally-ill con artist. Either way I just want to know if she is okay. But a third possibly ignored sms? A desperate people pleaser like me has got her pride.