The Curse of the Capable Woman! aka Honey, it's not you, it's me.

The curse is simply the illusion and myth that people seem to have created about me.

This pic has nothing to do with this post - oh well!

People seem to think I am always busy, always happy, constantly surrounded by friends,  and I never need help with anything.

Truth - I often find myself sitting at home alone, dinner for one, TV  for company, knitting and I sometimes accidentally find myself not speaking to anyone for entire days.

Being on your own means finding ways of doing anything and everything on your own.

I don't have people around to help me so if the garbage needs to go out, groceries need carrying in, light bulbs need changing, cleaning, moving furniture - it's all up to me.
With no one to rely on I have to figure out ways to cope, and I do. Always have apparently.

I was told recently that I don't need help or looking after. It's mostly true, but sometimes it would still be nice.

There is only one man in the world who ever got to really know the real me. The me before I put up all the walls and created this overly confident and capable persona. Any one since then gets a version of me but no one will make it to the core. No one will ever meet the same girl, full of hope and dreams, so naive, so fresh. I  feel like I have weathered a few battle scars by now, hardened with age and the war of love, but now immune and desensitised to it.  I used to see it as a sign of weakness. I have watched  a friend of mine fall in and out of love so easily; She would and does give herself so completely into relationships. and its beautiful.  I can't do that.

The sad part is when I sit back and reminisce about some of the "what if's" and "if only's", the men I know who tell me they are my friends, they want to know me and then I eventually find out that they really liked me in a romantic sense . They tell me this when they are married with children, or about to have them, as if I am a priest in a confession booth.  It makes them feel better to have it off their chests, it pumps my ego for a while and then they go back to play happy families and I go back to my hermit hole in my beautiful beachside apartment. I don't get it?

After 20 years on the dating scene a marriage, a divorce and a few heartbreaks I have decided to take a little responsibility and accept that maybe it really is me and not them.

Over the years I've had a number of male companions who have never quite made it to boyfriend status. I know it's just a word and a label but no matter what we were doing it was shrugged off as "just casual" or "nothing serious" or however else you want to label it. Guys that told me they weren't interested in having a girlfriend or a serious relationship who went on to get girlfriends and have serious relationships shortly after our friendships diminished and fizzled.

Here's the catch - I meant what I said. Did they? Were they just saying it because they though it would make me happy and that that's how you are supposed to treat women and that I would come round in the end because ALL women want is a relationship? I don't think I ever really wanted it and now don't even know if I would be capable of it. You see it's a curse...

The Bondi Slums

What is happening to Bondi Junction??

We always see Bondi and the Eastern Suburbs as full of the young, the beautiful, the rich, the privileged and let's not forget the  yummy mummies I do yoga with. Most in the neighbourhood usually fit into one or more of these categories.

For the past week on my way to the gym sleeps a homeless man in the old Bing Lee shop front. He is pretty set up with his shopping trolley as his bed head, his milk crate bed and  little cup of coins. But I have only ever seen him sleeping, usually with head buried under his blanket or huddled up towards the wall. Its a busy street for buses and pedestrians so I understand him tying to turn away from the hustle and bustle. Today I saw his face, he looks inches 20's, but hard to tell under the scruffy head of hair and beard. Not sure what to make of it and definitely not a sight familiar with that area of Bondi Junction. I think I found why he has just appeared there and I think this is a photo of him in this article from last week.  Bondi Culling

Today, running late for my morning yoga, a man in the street turns to me asking for help. He has blood running down his face from a blow to the head and staining his jacket. I ask if he is ok and try to get him to go to the pharmacy next door where he can get some medical attention. He is not interested and wants money to make a phone call to go home so he can clean up. All I can think of is my refreshed first aid training "any head injuries must go to the hospital". I try again to encourage him to the pharmacy where there is a phone and assumedly trained first aiders. I am also aware that I am running late to my class that I really want to get to. He is starting to get a little aggressive and not one other person has stopped to help me or him despite his appearance. I apologise and walk off, because the first thing in first aid training is protecting yourself and getting permission to provide first aid. As I walk off I hear a string of profanities pour and continue to pour from this disgruntled man.

No one around me said anything about him or even seemed to noticed him. What is wrong with people today?!

I made it to my class but it was hard to stop my mind reeling with questions of should I have tried harder to help him, what could I have done? I would have felt a lot more guilty if I hadn't heard his reaction to me deciding not to help him. If another passerby, preferably male and much bigger than me, stopped to help I may have been more inclined to stay and help. I try not to be too judgemental but in the interest of preserving my own health, I think I made the right decision in walking away from the big angry man with blood on his face.

Again - a very unfamiliar sight in Bondi Junction that leads me to ask the question "What is happening to Bondi Junction and the society we live in?"

Birthday Blues, I am not Google and the Meaning of Life.

HI all,

Sorry if the title is a little misleading - I don't think I am that insightful and deep - but it sounded like a good title. It is my birthday eve and it is a cold rainy winters day where I don't want to leave the house and don't  need to leave the house. Only problem then is that I do actually stay in all day and don't talk to anyone - good thing about that is I write - coz thats like talking but not.
And the meaning of life is an old Douglas Addams reference to the number of years that I have now been on this earth. (Go read The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy series!!)

I felt the need to write something - its kinda crazy babble with no real meaning. keeping it consistent with everything else on here already!

Not a year goes by where I don't get a little down around my birthday. It could be simply because its the middle of winter and I'd rather be at a warm sunny beachside resort - OR it could be birthday blues. I like that my birthday is in June, it makes me reassess where I am at twice a year - Christmas/New years and my birthday - both festive days that people insist on celebrating to mark that another year has passed and ask what the F*%k have you done with your life?

When reassessing ones life it is easy to fall into self pity mode and ask yourself "Why didn't I do more this year?". But I have said it before and I will say it again - I really don't have anything to complain about but I could be doing better. But the only person that expects more of me is me (and maybe sometimes my parents but they are getting much better about it). Appreciate what you have - I'm good. 

So I know that my Facebook page will be filled with birthday wishes for the next few days (thanks to timezones) from people I have met, known, worked with, partied with and maybe even slept with but what will that really mean? It basically means a social media website sent you a reminder about a calendar entry and society says you should send a greeting. Is there really anything more in it? Well YES if you place a lot of value on social media as a communication tool, and NO if you are over 35ish. My therapist told me that all people give and receive love in different ways and its true.

I will be marking my birthday at three different occasions  this year (maybe more, the week is not over yet) with various family and friends. What does this mean - balloons, cake, presents? No, mostly good food, drinks and a good chat with those that have time to see me. (not to belittle anyones attendance, just that I know there are a lot of people who I do care about who can't be with me right now for various reasons). And on the actual date of my birthday - I have an appointment with the foot doctor - YAY! Its just a date, and somehow despite working freelance, my friends still want to socialise on weekends.

I organised (threw together last minute) my own birthday drinks last weekend. I didn't make a booking  and guesstimated about a dozen people coming and going through the night. Ooops, Its hard being popular - pretty much took over a room at the pub with 20-30 people. And when the crowd thinned and I was barely tipsy I sat at my table surrounded by younger men and they proceeded to get me plastered - vodka, a cocktail and a fireball shot (thank you for the water - I needed it). I managed to not lose my phone (just) and was poured into an uber car and escorted home by 2 drunken boys who continued to pour wine into my system until we passed out. But not before I managed to cook up a midnight feed of leftover risotto and home made dumplings?! Not sure what else happened - it all went fuzzy after the fireball and the next day hurt (a lot! damn this aging thing!!!).

Oh the Google thing. I feel like I get asked for answers everyway I turn. At work people ask me things that I would have to look up anyway and in this age of smartphones it's probably faster for them to look it up themselves. I know it's my job to have the answers but why does it have to leak into my personal life too? Random people in stores ask if I work there?? Even my family got me to book the restaurant for my own birthday dinner. Every now and then it's nice to be told what I'm doing or where I'm going - that's all. It gets boring sometimes. 

The meaning of life? I don't know!! Just go out and live it... I say from my laptop in my home office that I have barely left all day - tee hee. 42 - bring it!

My Anti Valentines

You wanna piss me off today? Just say "Happy Valentine's Day!"

My anti Valentine's Day sentiments are not because I am a bitter and single divorcee. I do believe in love and there is a romantic in me just not a roses and chocolate kind of romantic that must be acknowledged on a day that everyone tells me it should be acknowledged kind. And a quick google search tells me that I am far from alone or original in this thought. Scrolling back through this blog I actually say the same thing in Feb of 2012. But It needs to be said again coz the message just aint getting through.

I cannot believe that Hallmark has managed to convince so many people world over that this is a legitimate celebration; cause for greeting cards, overpriced chocolates, flowers and flower shaped chocolates. Not to mention jewellery sales.

In North America they celebrate it from a young age giving cards and candy to school friends. But in Australia they focus much heavier on the socially idealized version of romantic couple love. Does this not segregate a large portion of the population? Maybe it's because I am not a huge fan of flowers or chocolate that this day offends me as much as it does. What about hay fever sufferers and lactose intolerant or dieting people?! Cut flowers, whether bought for the inflated Valentine's prices or not, are pretty for a little while. But then they get smelly and die.

There is a friend of mine who has turned up at my door with a single frangipani for me. It's sweet, even though I know he picked it up off the ground just outside my front door. Frangipani's only last a day or two so it's fitting because it's kinda representative of our relationship. 

Another dear friend of mine once met me with plastic flowers delivered in the most unelegant, unromantic way possible. He gave me a little bouquet of yellow plastic flowers upturned in a little shopping bag as we met on the steps of town hall. But they are plastic, low maintenance and they will last forever. I like to think this is also representative of the relationship. I can't name names but he knows who he is.