Cat's Experiment

Following On

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 12 Oct 2010 23:45:00 +0000

I'm not here anymore.. the activities and thoughts of this blog are no longer.

Part 2 of my life is now here, and you are most welcome to follow me over :-)

Thank you all for being part of this..(all 5 of you) xxxxx

Who moved my clock?

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 22:46:00 +0000

Daylight savings has finished. This is the good part about this system is the end bit, when you can sleep in late (well it feels like it)

I wrote this yesterday for the local paper, The Sydney Morning Herald. They have an unpaid reader's column called 'Heckler' and I'm trying to get a submission... one of my goals in becoming a writer.

WHO MOVED MY CLOCK?

I feel like a resident on the NSW/ QLD boarder during daylight savings, not knowing what is the right time. Frantically checking number plate origins and asking locals, what's the time please?

See someone changed my clock. I know the clocks had to change on Sunday but someone or something changed them. I'm alone this weekend, except for the spoodle,... clocks just don't go and update themselves, or do they?

I only changed one clock before bed last night, my mobile phone/ alarm/ virtual life support. It would be my lodestone, telling me the time and giving me the thing we all love about the time change forward... the one hour extra in bed.

But silly me, I woke up switched on the computer, then the kettle, then checked my work mobile and well being on some orange alert for time issues, got all confused and wondered why the computer already knew the time change, but the oven didn't and neither did the digital set top box but the iPhone did.

These devices used to be more polite, messages like ' I intuit a change in your regions' time, would you like to update?' Yes, thank you for asking. My friend's computer just updated hers last week, wrong week mate, but how do you reprimand your computer.?.I was only being helpful, it would probably say.

Someone has to supervise these self-updating computers. Are they changing other things? taking away minutes and hours, telling satellites where you are not, reverting your spelling option back to US English and deleting your cookies. Now they just go ahead and change an hour without asking. So Gen Y. Well like, why be so manual? they'd say.

My cup of tea gets cold while I seek out the correct time. I want to go back to bed and finish the Big Easter Novel but have lost my time-way. Have I two hours or three hours until the family lunch? The dog is now confused, isn't it walking time?

I'm not sure I like the time change on a public holiday. It's mucking up my lazy schedule. I don't know how long to lie in bed for. I prefer the surprise of finding an extra hour for sleeping in on a weekday.

The answer lies in the abandoned watch draw. The yellowing swatch, my 6th Grade watch and importantly the watch I was wearing 6 months ago (because I use my mobile to tell the time). I line up all the watches and satisfyingly they all tell the same time. The right time. Now, back to bed.

I have to be here

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 22:58:00 +0000

I am lost without you little blog. My friend Marilyn reminded me yesterday I should resume blogging.. .. she thought of this while gassed out at the dentists. Strange where you can have epiphany moments. My moments are usually in the shower.. this is a good excuse to take longer showers.

Yes, lots has happened.. and the weirdest one is that I'm in a relationship. Yes it's good, but I don't blog about him while it's happening.. Have learnt that you don't blog about him while you're seeing him.

To give you a summary and over the next few weeks will update you on all my shower thoughts.

I'm unemployed right now (it's day 4)
Still haven't done my tax. That's six years worth now
I owe about $16,000 on credit cards
My mortgage is up to date
I go to pub trivia every week and we win almost every time
I see a psychotherapist weekly
I'm not on any anti-depressives
My boyfriend is hot
I'm writing a children's book
Going to see Spandau Ballet, Tears for Fears, The Pixies and Simple Minds in concert

back soon

Relationships are foreign

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 00:14:00 +0000

I really enjoy my own company. I can't imagine having a husband and kids to look after. The dog is enough. I go out about 3 times a week and have lots of friends. I can walk into a social function by myself, see a film, sit in a pub, wander the shops. I like doing things alone.

Now the nights are hot, and even though I have the ceiling fan on most nights, I can't imagine sharing a bed with anyone. I read books, listen to podcasts, read my mobile phone news at 3am when I can't sleep, the dog jumps on and off the bed so the last thing I want is to share this space. If I ever have to live with someone we are so having separate bedrooms, probably each with a different climate. I like the windows open, even in winter. I love fresh air.

My friend, Louise, recently went to Sweden. She noticed all the beds are actually two single beds pushed together. Single doonas, side by side. Now that doesn't happen to a whole country via a nifty marketing strategy. They must really like having completely different sheets, pillows and their own doonas, but right next to their spouse. I'll just have a whole room, thanks.

When I discovered my desire to live alone (albeit with best flatmate ever - the current one - and the spoodle) I worried I wasn't worried. It's so me to be alone and happy. Like I'm trapped in a married world and I like being single, now I've discovered Alone-&-Happy-Island, which is my home, just I see it differently.

It's also being comfortable with whatever life is at that moment. I long ago ditched the idea that a man will change my life. No saviours, no princes, men are just others types of humans. The messier, doona hogging type.

it's the frisky season

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 20:06:00 +0000

Sydney is melting. The air is hot and still. Only mosquitoes break the thick air with their determined buzzing.

The city, the CBD, where I now work is full of hot Christmas shoppers and city workers who scurry back to their air conditioned offices after lunch time. The shopping centres look garish with over bright decorations. Already you wish the sun would fade the tinsel's intensity.

But it's what happening to us, to me, that has me curious.

I'm as hot as the sun, as smoking as a bushfire, as moist as the humidity.

As Madonna said 'I'm on fire'.

I was determined to get a root. have sex. I sighed at the thought of who. It had to be someone I knew. Just get down to business no chit chatting.

It then became apparent that I wasn't the only one on heat. Have you ever walked down a street, or into a lift and just felt the throb of people's thoughts ? Merely walking slowly, more voluptuously through the city, even early in the morning men would eye me up, and it was quite animalistic.

I'm having trouble with my phone, my Nokia N96. The sim card keeps popping out and killing the power. Waking up earlier this week, I noticed my phone was off. Two messages popped up when I turned it on; both from The Midnight Caller. He wanted to know if I was interested in an early morning visit. That's a vast improvement from a late night visit and at least he'll be sober. But I wasn't pleased that he expected me to visit him. House calls ? I don't do.

Later the same day I was waved down by another old boyfriend. Co-incidentally Midnight Caller and this one have the same name, Simon. We had a good old chat, he walked me back to my work and had a look around the store. You know when you're fishing for information? he didn't mention any girlfriends, but that he's doing yoga (ie. look at my body). A couple of hours later he returned with a Christmas card. He left it and walked away.

Well reader I wanted someone I knew to bonk, but not these two. Who else?

I put the call out to Mr Triple Scorpio. (Hi, can I drag you back to my bed ?) Who I hang out with at least twice a week, both at trivia and just at home playing music. He's good looking, nice and tall and is a known quantity. He was keen to obey my commands and help with my sexual problems. Wednesday after work it was.

I was so excited all day, not in a frenzied way, but just secretly happy to getting satisfied.

So there he was walking down the street to my place, we walked inside (the dog suitable exercised ) and went straight for it. Later we watched a movie and I cooked dinner. He left with a few bits of my eyeshadow sparkle on his face.

5 week job

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 03:26:00 +0000

"Tell them we don't have a toilet"

"You can't wear it that way, I didn't design it like that"

"So you've had a boyfriend?"

"I'm not getting you a folder! "

"If you can't cope then maybe you should think if this job is right for you"

Over the last 5 weeks I've been in a new fashion store in Woollahra. Sales were not just great they were outstanding. I'd never experienced a breaking of records like it. Her easy affordable fashions were a hit with the shopping mum crowd.

She, the designer and boss, was gushing about having me manage her store. She knew I had run my own store for 5 years, had set up a retail program and was a phenomenal seller. I came for the inflated price of $25 per hour. A casual. No contracts, I said, until after Christmas until the business was established, plus if it didn't work out, easy to leave.

Her reputation for brash, barking dialogue preceded her. You can run the store, she said, I'll do my designs and can travel. You're in charge, she said in a quick verbal conversation before the opening.

Marry in haste, repent in leisure. The same applies to jobs. Take your time, put it on paper, have a sit down conversation.

It started to fall apart when she asked for complex sales figures when we were using pen & paper and a calculator. While I put in 8 hours a day, 6 days a week to start with she worked late into the night and all weekend, then left me with tasks I was unable to complete while alone and frantically selling on the shop floor.

The computer system was still in decision making limbo while she checked ebay and tried to make cash deals. 'Buy the stupid system' I thought and get on with becoming a more efficient business. I left her tasks. 1. Install the second change room. 2. get the building rubbish removed. 3. buy me a chair.

We had a debate over clients using the toilet. One customer, who was mid purchase, asked if her menstruating daughter (her words) could use our toilet. "The boss doesn't like people using the toilet, but I'll ask". She didn't' want anyone using it, I argued it was rude and should be available to clients when asked. It was a no answer.

After the client left, thankfully another sale interrupted the toilet request, she took me aside to clarify the toilet policy. "Tell them we don't have a toilet" she barked. " I can't lie, I'll say something else instead" "No! " she looked at me with fierceness " Tell. them. we. don't. have. a. toilet ! " The conversation could not conclude until I agreed to use her wording. Besides the client had purchased; justifying her policy.

Makes you wish that no-one ever asks to use the toilet. Too stressful.

The next working day was like she took the right pill in the morning. The computer arrived and being the 'expert' I was there to set it up. Panic set in when I remembered how long the system took me 4 years ago to get going. "She's not going to like this" I thought. Because she wanted me to get it up and running that afternoon. I had to be honest and say it would take at least a week to set it all up. She didn't like that.

"I don't really think this is working out" she said for the second time in 2 days. This time I matched her. " Neither do I. Before I go I think I'll use the toilet"

The 2nd Time

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 08:22:00 +0000

We joke about 2nd marriages and are sad about the 1st marriage not working. They seem second best, not quite the romantic fairytale, not quite as right or the better option. Potential relationship are marred by stories of a person's supposed baggage.

What if we looked at other spheres for how to reconcile this disparity in relationships when in the worlds of business, music, art, sport and science constant failures are necessary, in fact needed in order to create the right music, art, book, or revolutionary idea.

Chanel failed at her first shop. Edison failed 1000 times before finding the right metal to make his electric light work. First books are appalling, first band line-ups don't work before over-night success is found 10 years later. Failed attempts at your passion are important. In fact, a good biography is not interesting unless you enjoy the win after the failure.

There are failed proposals, failed pregnancies, and misbehaving children before they become responsible grown-ups.

Failure is important !

I failed at my first store, my numerous relationships didn't work out...but oh for the stories! the learnings! Yet I've been a winner... my swimming record is amazing. I was the best breast stroker one year....and how much effort did that take? heaps! many, many hours of following cute boys in speedos..not actually: they followed me in class..but I had to keep being better.

My learnings and failures in 20 odd relationships should give me some advantage.....well actually it does...always.

I'm excited by this discovery. I am actually embracing being someone's second, if needs be. So what if his first wife was wrong, he's right for me and vice versa. I refuse to let the idea of 'second' or 'failed first' be the definition for a marriage. Second is not second best..and even though I like vintage things, it's the quality of it that matters, in both cases. A good vintage jacket is better than a cheap new one. A bad someone else's first husband but good my first husband is how it may be for me.

Failures can lead to amazings sucesses
Experience is needed to overcome failures.
Failure is part of life...in any sphere.

The proverbial woodwork

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 02:31:00 +0000

Where are they all coming from? These men from my past, all contacting me & saying hello?

First, Jamie the chef then Bob the Politician, then a random one in New Zealand.

Jamie found this blog (hello you) not sure how as he's in the UK, married and I knew him years before I started this. I really fell for him. He quoted Jeff Buckley, was a cute as hell, could cook like a demon and mesmerized me with his charm. As quickly as he took my heart, he twisted me up with emotional demands. I didn't give him enough praise, was called 'arrogant' by him & I never seemed to do enough for him. It was a very black moment when I realised it was over, that was a profound moment of losing trust in love and men.

Bob the Politician now has 4 children to 2 different wives and he's my age. Another charmer, extremely well versed on many topics and has an interesting life. But he's not the sort to travel in an entourage, he's a lone wolf who has great solo experiences. I get the feeling there are women in all ports for him.

Also forgetting there's another midnight caller in the mix. A random bonk from a month back. Another cute funny boy who dismissed me quickly for wanting to bonk him again. Another moment where my heart and hopes were crushed and dismissed. Only to get midnight calls from him. Which I didn't answer and ignored their existence the next time I saw him.

Even Mr Balcony View turned up the other night. I still have this stupid magnetic attraction for him, despite all the things I know, so it was a relief that he left. I'm happy for him to live in a cupboard, never to be seen again!

While watching some soppy love story on TV,where the main character wanted to know what a good marriage felt like, I just blanked. A marriage? can't even get a sustained relationship going. I am very cynical, I've come to acknowledge. Although hope doesn't disappear it is greatly tempered by the constant pattern of being dumped.

I don't get why they want to see me. Are they unhappy with what they have and are testing the waters for something they might have missed ? Are they pleased with themselves for being married/ loved up/ fathered ?

I have nothing to gain from these contacts. Nice to talk to interesting people, but to be very direct, it's all in my past & not interested in reminiscing about times that I don't' particularly relish the memory of. I choose not to dwell in the darkness of past. My hope, that which remains, is forward.

Slowly coming back

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 18 May 2009 02:01:00 +0000

What a year 2008 was, with Mum's death and the business closing, I was happy to use the well-acknowledged escape into the world-of-wine to feel better. I'm only now feeling more stable, with a part-time job, a weekend cash job & less like I live in a washing machine.

After the business closed I was 'unemployed' for 2 months. Aside from 80c in my bank account, I was quite happy. I did no exercise, apart from walk the dog, and enjoyed 3pm wine-time, courtesy of my generous flat-mate and her endless wine cupboard. I did have a cash job on a Saturday, which allowed me to buy food. I'm so middle-class and would never get unemployment benefits or food vouchers.

I know my bad habits and lack of exercise are temporary. The buckets of shiraz every night, are wearing thin. It's now a habit and not particulary fun now. But you just know when you are ready to change. It might have been the sight of my gut hanging over my jeans, or that I'm not looking good in photos, that you slowly get the idea you are not that hot.

I have no plan, just a motivation to move more, drink less.. a small step.

I'll have boy updates for your next post.

Palm Reading

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 08:46:00 +0000

She was good. Straight forward with accurate times and dates.

It was the next period of my love life you always look forward to. When would I find love again?

"You'll have a strong, deep love around 60"

well, that's nice. what about the next 20 years ? Should I be happy I will live that long ? not that I doubt that. but, would be nice if we could bring that forward a bit more...

hello again

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 00:50:00 +0000

Life is like a washing machine.

Some people have recurring themes in their lives, the chorus we can't get out of our heads. Mine is to have short lived jobs, many of them, spend time at home, then pull myself up again and find another career. Next life I'm coming back as a life-time public servant, like a teacher, or a union official.

Feb 23rd we closed the shop. Gorn, over, finito. After 5 years. In the last week, when we could tell people, I had such wonderful reactions from people, how they only shopped with us, liked us being local. One long standing customer would pout and look upset in the last days as she passed us. And the dog is having withdrawl symptoms. She was a very good sales assistant, got lots of pats and had many visitors, including her own people.

I miss doing something I really liked, but I dont' miss the financial losses. We were working for nothing, almost. And really, that's not sensible.

Finally my brain, my mind is not thinking of the store. It took up a lot of room, all that thinking, and so many things went astray, from not organising my life or friends, to not even wanting to write. You don't know what's happening to you until it's all over. I do feel relieved, the proverbial weight lifted moment occured.

There is a good job lined up...another week and I can tell you. It's not fashion either.

Now for boys. Now at a strange but stable position of being in disbelief that a relationship with a man could ever seem real. why would I want a man? what use could he be ? I think men are lovely and my men friends (from relatives to friend's husbands) are delightful company... but I wouldn't want one hanging around being, well, being useless. I have no desire to put effort into a relationship.

Okay here are a few scenarios. A man with a good job, works hard. Weekends he catches up with his mates and plays sport. You never see him.

A man with more hours to spare. Likes computer games and watching TV series until late at night. He's entertaining himself, not you.

Finally, man with kids and ex wife, They all get along, but the kids are still young (under 10) and really, you know they are more important than you. You fit between the cracks of his life. No thanks.

I see a man via his job, his spare time, his ex's and his commitments before anything else. yes, I am prejudging, but no use trying unless there is something to try for.

so, blog, you are here for me whenever I need you.

2009

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 23:46:00 +0000

Suddenly it' s another year & I'm back to update this forgotten blog. Sorry blog, I did need some time away.

Five days after my last post in September, Mum died. The pain and upset is tempered greatly by her peaceful death, and all the love we gave each other during that time. Being so prepared helped. We refused all sorts of add-ons from the Funeral Directors, like bad flowers and overpriced condolence books to make our own choices. We felt so much better doing it 'Suzy's way' as we described mum's way of being quietly stylish.

I won't go on about that time. Suffice to say I am altered in my vision of life. It's that bloody gift of experience you get when a parent dies. I miss her greatly, but also understand what we got in return like the rediscovered simpleness of family, love, the pleasure of my silly dog, my lovely, lovely friends and how supportive they are.

We all immersed ourselves in work after Mum died. For three months we'd concentrated on her and ignored our businesses and lives. For us as retailers we had three months until Christmas, our biggest part of the year. Sales were all over the place. One week high, the next low...it was crazy, stressful..but the end goal was Dec 31st, only then would we know if we were successful and despite the Global credit crunch, spending for Xmas didn't go away, it was just delayed until Kevin (our PM) gave away 10 Billion for people to spend ..."Spend for Australia" was our motto too.

Drinking and smoking is still a constant. I'm trying...but that glass of wine after work is too tempting.

On New Year's Day I took a few days off to spend away from Sydney. Killcare one night & Avoca Beach the next. Just three days away & felt so relaxed...I think the more you don't need a holiday the more you do... I was hesitating, thinking I could just stay at home. So glad I went. There is nothing like swimming at sunset on Jan 1st in flat glassy water.

All through out Mum's illness and later, Mr Enthusiastic was there. We even got to calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. I was definitely in a sheltering at home mood, not a hermit, but I couldn't take crowds or random events. My social needs were fairly specific. Generally I'm up for anything..but I found a strong lack of interest in the spontaneous or casual gatherings.

It was only last Sunday that we called if off... for one very good reason. There was no sex. I just couldn't go there & he never initiated. I was feeling off after Mum died, but truthfully, I didn't have a strong desire for him physically..it was all mental and comforting. I did need that type of relationship for a while but not forever. We are human after all.

I am relieved that it's over, both 2008 and Mr Enthusiastic. It was shortly after I put the phone down from the break-up call that I decided on my New Year's Resolution. Last year it was 'get into the water quicker'...I'm such a hesitator at the beach, but stay in for hours. Now I get in faster and it is better.

So this year it's 'Dress Up, make the most of yourself' I feel life is an event and I like to express myself in clothes. The night of the resolution I saw Grace Jones, live at the Enmore Theatre. I wore a vintage 80's Italian Jumpsuit, with beaded self belt. I loved wearing it, I loved the reaction from people, it was like 'Shit she's wearing a jumpsuit, but hey, it's not bad'. I like to challenge people via clothing, I've decided.

If you are a real-life friend, you can see my jumpsuit pic on facebook. Photographed against a graffiti wall near the Enmore.

Who here believes 2009 is going to be good? At least I know how to help make it better. Dressing up, finding a good love and taking the dog for a walk.

Almost time

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 01:34:00 +0000

The radiation didn't work on Mum, she's one of the few for whom it doesn't work. She's near the end, not sure when the end is, but it is happening. When I spend time with her I have to take a long walk and think of things to do. We've watched enough day-time telly & it gets depressing. The news loops of cable are also mind numbing.

I've read things to her, looked at photos and made comments, played classical music, massaged her feet, joked and stroked her hair, held her hand and just lay there. She can't walk, too weak, and is lying in bed. Today I'm going to read her my short stories. Those that I wrote in Saturday classes in June. Some are about her, memories of holidays etc. She wasn't purposely in the stories, but the ones she is mentioned I will read to her.

I don't feel very reflective now, just being active, seeing friends, not thinking sad thoughts of Mum's imminent death, so this blog is feeling strained.

My alcohol intake is constant. I could drink three glasses of wine a day, have a few cigarettes and fall asleep in that numb way. As summer is nearing and sunrise is earlier, Calypso demands I get up earlier and do longer walks...so there is an opposite health response too.

I've seen Mr Enthusiastic every week, sometime more, I've drunk lots with him & dumped my worries on him too. We went to a play on Iraq last week. The first hour was a monologue, interesting, but at half time we discovered the play was 3 hours long. I made the executive decision to take off & we found a pub to finish the night at. It's these things which make spending time with him great.

I can't write much more, It's just not there...but I did need to give this small update.

declaration

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 06:47:00 +0000

Friday afternoon & I'm off for the weekend. Just a bunch of friends, some who surf, some with kids, but I have my 'plus one'..! my dog! Can't wait to take her for big walks along the beach and through the bush. She's also doubles as an excellent hot water bottle.

It's still a little cold here..about 18 deg in the day...almost the end of winter.

Last night Mr Enthusiastic came by & declared his interest in me. He'd like to spend more time with me & really likes me. We have had a few good nights out..nothing happens & being vague I had put him in the friend basket, a friend I've drunkenly pashed but not that interested in any more. The physical thing is just not there.

Yes, I will give-it-a-go, try him on for size, etc. Maybe, just maybe he'll grow on me... It would be good if I could magically be passionately interested in him.

Other things are going on in my life. I've been spending half my time with Mum. She needs a carer or someone there to help her do everything. The radiation treatment really exhausted her. She sleeps almost 18hours, has to be helped to walk & has almost lost her hair.

Two days ago she let out a yell. We'd switched the pay TV to Fox news... Mum loves US politics and the Democrats convention had just started. She came alive watching the almost 24hour coverage. The day Hilliary spoke she didn't have an afternoon sleep. It was lovely to see her more alert, more physically able.

How does all this affect me...lots of lovely people are asking me & being very considerate... I'm just in action mode... I am enjoying my time with Mum. She's a funny woman & very kind to all of us...it's such a strange but rewarding situation, but it's because her essence is still very much there..her facial squints of disapproval, her soft smile & her cryptic way of expressing herself. As her hair matted and fell out, she said it 'was like China' huh? I said, thinking of cups of tea, porcelain, delicate or something to do with China and tea... ' Birds nest' was the answer. Her hair was like the Birds Nest, the Olympic stadium in Beijing, China.

Substance abuse is also my coping mechanism. I have to have a few glasses of wine every night. And a few cigarettes. And walk my dog....so glad to get that yapping, chewing dog

realisation

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 18 Aug 2008 00:58:00 +0000

Lunch went until 9pm. There are some photos on Facebook, of the Truffles we ate, my old friends and The Traveller. I did wear the plunging top then put on scarf which covered it all up. I'm useless.

So what happened ? I got to tell the 'being arrested' story. Which happened the night I saw him last. And where my business is going, but these stories were told to the table.

I just thought, he's lovely, he's nice but he doesn't really like me, enough. And I didn't feel like trying. So I didn't sit next to him, I didn't ask him how his family is... he asked me about Barack Obama (we both like US politics)..but essentially there was no light, he didn't give off any flirt vibes. I've had his attention before & the difference was obvious...not rude, but just not there.

He left at 6pm, while a bunch of us stayed on.

So this morning, it felt over. In my mind anyway. A sad feeling, but an answer nonetheless.

Argh! Sunday lunch

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 05:27:00 +0000

Do I wear the cleavage top? silly question, of course I will. Sunday lunch is for Basil and his 40th. He's buying a truffle & cooking us all lunch. The Traveller will be there (I bloody hope so, after all this!)

I don't know what impresses Men anymore... cleavage, blonde hair ? a father who owns a pub. Well, I'm going to run a bar and I have the cleavage, so the blonde hair will have to wait. But I'm doing it for me. One thing about being older is you don't care to suit someone else's fantasies or ideals...you either like them or not & vice versa.

I just had a jewish guy in the store...I like jewish men, he was funny and touched my arm a few times... The Traveller is jewish, but he definately doesn't want a jewish wife, we spoke about this a few times. His ex is anglican. Being a catholic is appealing to him...we've had great conversations about religion and found so many parrallels...religions have many similarities and I feel comfortable that he enjoys his spirituality and religion, but it's his & mine is mine. Each to ourselves but fully respected.

Another thought that calms me, being 41 now, I'm resolved about not having children. I love my nieces, my cousins and my godchildren & everyone else's kids, but have no desire to have my own. There are too many things to do. Also not good at that kind of responsibility. My dog is enough.

It also feels like a deadline to have a child now & the risks are that much higher. Taking that pressure off to procreate is a relief, not a regret.

The pressure in it's place is to live a full life. To do those things which are harder for those with kids. To write & to build my next business. (details to come)

anyway... I didn't think about Sunday lunch for about 10 mins then. Panic is back. Don't panic...stay calm, I'm telling myself. Argh!

Posting from elsewhere

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Wed, 13 Aug 2008 04:24:00 +0000

Mum is asleep downstairs, Antiques Roadshow is on cable & I'm at their house caring for Mum for a few hours. She got home from hospital yesterday after finishing radiation treatment.

I want to manage my time better. All I do is walk the dog, see Mum, go to the shop & drink. I feel fat & unproductive. How can I look good for Sunday lunch?

Sunday is lunch at best male friends house, Basil & his wife Lavender. It's his 40th & he's cooking lunch & bringing out the special wines, stored for peak maturity in his 40th year. There are 8 people for lunch, including, The Traveller. I am interested to see him again, of course. Always good to follow up on past interests and see if 'the liking' is still there or was entirely self created.

I'll be using cheap but effective beauty methods. A razor for the legs, facecloth for the body & face & a good long shower with lots of smelly stuff. That won't help the hair colour re-growth, but at least it'll be clean.

But I take a new philosophy. It's like a new secret weapon for me...a thought position that protects me from unwanted emotional responses, like lust & drunken desire.

I only like people who are interested in me.

Blokes who ask questions, look at me & not the crowd & take the conversation to that tangent you create together. For instance, last weekend at lunch, we had plates of prawns. I was playing with my prawn & imitated a mini scream as I ripped off it's head. Then I made a ringing sound & passed my friend a prawn 'It's for you' I said. He placed in on his ear and said 'Hey it's a blue-tooth-prawn.'

Now back to doing my laundry & ironing everything in sight...so I'll have something to wear on Sunday.

The Challenge begins

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 22:46:00 +0000

Four days after my last post in June, my mother was diagnosed with brain cancer. She's in hospital this week undergoing radiation treatment. We've been given a time frame & are working on quality of life for her. She's 67 on Saturday and had to resign as a Kindy teacher (to 2 & 3 yrs old) because of the illness. Her granddaughter is one of her students.

Lucikly the hospital is very close to all of us & family and friends have been amazing. Flowers arrive daily, the visitors book is filled with people saying hello & leaving magazines and saying prayers (something I've taken up again)

So many people have told me their carer stories...looking after a parent, younger brother or friend in palliative care & how they just gave up as much time as possible to spend with them. I ran into an ex colleague on Saturday who looked after her younger brother for 9 months while he suffered from motor neurone disease ( like the book The Diving Bell and the Butterfly) We both shed tears in the street, the freezing cold street halfway between two pubs when she told the story.

Dad called me yesterday, asked if I was sitting down. That coldness runs through you as you wonder what he's been told, has Mum's time been cut short ? No, a friend's wife just died, fell over in the street and had a heart attack. Sue was the same age as Mum, and part of their wonderful circle of friends, the kind you know as a child and had holidays with.

Is it better to have a parent pass quickly or slowly? is this preparation time a gift ? Yes it is. I'm talking to my sister almost daily, I'm seeing the generosity of aunts and cousins, the tears of friends as I tell them & the intelligence and compassion of the staff at St Vincents Hospital.

We're collecting photos of mum, from her work life with kids to her with the grand children. You know how everyone has boxes of photos or files on their computer but they are never put all together ? that's our current project. When people ask us what they can do we ask for photos. We'll put them in a book using a system like Lulu... a special book for her, for us and for anyone who wants to see what she means to children.

Photo: Mum & the three of us.

sticking point

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 05:51:00 +0000

I don't think about relationships all day, only here, my 30 min zone for these thoughts. So last night's brain doodle was, what characteristic would the right man have for me ?

And it comes down to morals...as apposed to being conservative...because some good people don't stand up for what's right. But the courage to know when something is wrong and call it. Silence is not an alternative to strength. I prefer Atticus Finch or James Stewart to Tom Cruise. Morals are attractive. Clarity in confusion is attractive.

Someone who has a charity side, a sense of family, kindness to friends in need, but knows when to speak plainly. I actually think it's the best way to live life. To be kind, generous and to accept the mistakes of others and of yourself

The facades of bravado in a man are transparent to me. Just by speaking louder or bossing people around is not leadership. Letting people be hysterical for a bit and then calming them through logic is more attractive. Hard decisions are also respected.

I want a man I respect. Who takes responsibility for his place in the world and what it may chuck at him.

Years ago I watched a documentary on the Lloyd's Names. During a particularly bad insurance run in the early 90's they had to pay, not the reverse. This caused the financial downfall of many and forced the sale of family estates, cut backs in livelihood & for many with inherited wealth, they didn't have the knowledge to build it back again. Sad for history, but that is what history is about.

It focused on a dapper, well kept gentleman in his 60's with that leanness that comes from a good life and health, he walked into a sweet terrace house while flashbacks showed a much grander residence, lost in the Lloyd's payment. He sat at his antique desk, surrounded by photos in silver frames, and stated..."Well I built it up once, I can build it up again"

In other words, bad luck happened, but my skills are still intact.

In the confusion of men's role these days, I find the facets I admire are timeless. Courage, morality, intelligence and being indefatigable.

single comfort factor

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 03:42:00 +0000

As I prepared for my birthday cocktail party, I was happy to organise, create and set-up the list of drinks, ingredients, decorations, guest list and music. Knowing my friends would all pitch in and help with various foods and mixers, although I was providing the bulk of the goods, I felt utterly complete.

yes, I'd love to hire a waiter or barman or buy a case of french bubbles, however, I hope that I gave my friends a good night out. Certainly the dog, Calypso, had a good time. She slunk up to everyone and was thoroughly adored. Like me, she has a hard time knowing when to say good night.

Mr Enthusiastic wanted to stay over & Calypso acted as both chaperon and contraceptive. My dog is becoming more useful daily.

My life is not complete, yet, and I have grand plans for the rest of the year, but the aching need for someone else has disappeared. Mr E is sweet and Mystery Man is a true friend, but not worth all my time. My alone time is so enjoyable. Do you have that feeling? the house is empty...you can play your music, the only mess is yours and you have mess amnesia for that, a bit like can't smell my own fart-itis.

Some people panic without structure, order, a certain amount in the bank...but not me. Am I an internal hippie? I don't need perfection, either for my physical or economic means. I like to treat people right, be empathetic, kind, & I detest a locked in mind.

People ask me why the dishwasher still isn't fixed, or the rip in the couch, or the curtains still unlined, and the real truth is lack of money, but the house is arranged for living. Everything is in a good position, the magazines are tempting, the sun shines on the outdoor cane lounges and everyone is relaxed. And the dog is a bonus.

I just want to get my plans up and running...maybe self fulfillment is what I've discovered.

Reverse underpants theory

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 22:40:00 +0000

Those nights when you are waxed, smoothed, oiled, tanned, glowing, boobs are in alignment and your underpants are matching. Not just matching, but they snap and fit perfectly, no lines, no bulges... you actually look like a burlesque performer, right before the last scene when she does something with a harmonica and a feather.

That's the night you thump in the door, crash without taking off makeup and sleep face down so both pillow and your face resemble a used tissue.

The next time you go out you're like a bank that just lost it's Triple A credit rating. A little less shiny & some corners need to be cut. It's jeans not a dress, it's comfort shoes not stilettos' and it's the reliable undies and bra. The kind that was not made to match. The bra is from the t-shirt range, comfortable, no wires and doesn't make you sit so upright. The undies came in a pack & you bought them, not only for the hygienic cotton element but the fun retro pattern.

That's the night you are less witty, more humble, less hair-flicking, as it's tied like a sideways sitting pony & your makeup is basic. No magic concealers, bronzer or make up primer. Just a slap of this and that.

Getting all dressed up seems like too much of an effort. More fun to sit back and watch others try their hardest. You take a position on the couch or table, and let others do the manoeuvring, you just sit and chat normally. Then a strange thing happens. You become the centre of the night. By sitting still you are the home base, the place of retreat from the hectic mating dance.

Conversations develop, jokes become intertwined with the evenings activities and you don't' care about bad lighting or elbows on the table. It becomes slightly conspiratorial as you spend more time with the witty boys and not the pretty boys.

Out of the laughter and confessional conversation your prime light is ignited. Witty Boy no. 2 goes home and Witty Boy no.1 stays on. Body heat increases along with alcohol consumption, but it's not a race, it's a prop. It keeps you sitting there longer, only when both glasses are empty will you break the seal and go home. Pretty Girl No. 1 breaks that moment for you. She's exhausted herself flirting and her feet hurt. She sits down with you & tries to talk. You get her a glass of water and she's asleep on the couch by the time you return. Witty Boy no 1 adjusts her dress as she sleeps: an exposed drunk girl is no porn for anyone.

Lights on, the pub is closing. Just when you can smell his skin and see the lashes on his lower lids. Your eyes look at him in pieces. Top lip, bottom lip, jaw, ears, hair line, lashes and then down to his neck and chest. Strangely you can have an excellent conversation about American politics at the same time as this eye fondle.

Drunk girl is awake and searching for all her accessories - phone, bag, lipstick and left shoe. Which she was sitting on. We help her into a cab are we are now alone, on the footpath with the night air snapping our thoughts into some decision making. That's when you realise you are wearing the wrong underwear. No matter, he's wearing a very tatty t shirt and jeans. His will be worse.

note: reverse underpants theory also works with 'got my period' and 'my legs are hairy'

I don't know anymore

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 06:59:00 +0000

Louise and I were talking about her latest...she likes him despite herself, he's not as good looking as she likes, he's not as well dressed, but he's intelligent, kind and a good root. Her thing is she's not looking to get married, it's only 1.5 years since the separation and it's just time to have fun.

As she talked more, it appeared she is going to find it hard to say goodbye to him, he's leaving for another state. "Do you really like him?" 'I do, but" we both sat there, mouths moved to say something, eyes blinking just a bit too hard. There was no absolute answer. Any definite statement felt wrong.

"I don't know anymore" she said.

We can no longer convince ourselves about someone, no longer interested in taking a position. In one way its about backing a non- outcome. Hopes are not pinned to anything.

I do know one thing. I can't settle. It's has to feel like I'd change my life for this person. Like my new dog, Calypso. She's just sweet and naughty and cuddly and she's worth being a dog owner. I really have the best dog. Can't believe how easy it's been to have her around. That's how it should feel.

some changes

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 05:53:00 +0000

I'm sitting here typing sideways. I have a puppy asleep on my lap. After a week of decision making and a few months of other decisions, I have my very own dog. She's 20 weeks old & a 'spoodle' yes, that a cross between a spaniel and a poodle.

I've named her Calypso after a character in The Camomile Lawn by Mary Wesley. Calypso was beautiful but naughty. This Calypso is not naughty yet. All shoes have been put away & she's not showing any chewing tendencies yet...yet.

She's not my substitute child, she's just a dog & I'm trying to grow up and be responsible for something. Which is a big deal for me... all the freedoms I have, my work, my lack of other responsibilities (except the m-word - mortgage) means I didn't feel I was contributing or sharing with other people. Dogs make you share. You talk about them, take them for walks and then you pick up their poos. Grown up stuff!

Enough about the dog & I swear I this won't turn into a dog lovers site..it's still all about me (a great place to be)

A couple of things have happened.

When it rains it pours and all that. Saturday night 20 of us saw Sex and the City. We had champers before and after the film, then I pashed Mr Enthusiastic after the 5th bottle of bubbles & he came to mine for sleep-over...all clothes on & a good nights sleep.

yes I felt bad...why did I do that...because. He's fun to be around, makes me feel instantly happy & I don't worry about him (*ouch* sitting sideways & typing is hard!) the worry that you are responsible for their good times. I'm like that...I worry that people are not having a good time & must entertain.

The next morning he left early & walked home...although this is where I can genuinely worry as he has no sense of direction... He texted to say he has something to tell me and can we meet at 5pm the next day for a drink.

the old 'something to say' moment. I could agonise. I could be defensive. I could guess ?

He loves me, he doesn't, he doesn't want a relationship right now, sorry to lead you on, you're wonderful, but.., you deserve someone better...

all those thoughts.
He needed a few beers to tell me. The second part I can't say here...suffice to say it's a body issue thing, not permanent but just a personal thing. You respect I can't it say here.

he said....he does really like me.. wow. He could fall for me. okay.

This is where the long dating history starts to be useful. I've had this happen before. A very attentive bloke pleaded with me to love him. He's was such a puppy and I just gave in. Hard when it ended because I feel like I was talked in it.

If I fall for Mr Enthusiastic it will not by via convincing myself. And it's not going to happen straight away. It takes a while to rid yourself of thoughts of anyone else and any ongoing liaison I may have (with MysteryMan). But it may happen and I'll tell you why.

He's just so open, emotionally. He tells me his thoughts, not necessarily to agree with them, but to express himself, and he accepts that my answers are not exactly like his or align with his views..he just wants to know where I stand. He doesn't tease, or belittle, or argue back, he just shows his thinking and accepts your version, with a little backchat.

I shared my theory that 'dating' is not just about dinners and drinks, it's about walking the dog (yes!) buying groceries, making a meal together and trying to find the new Ikea store. Next weekend I am going to help him put his bed together. He's such a bachelor. The bed is in pieces while he sleeps on the floor.

So when I say I want to take this slowly, I do. I can & just hang out with him.

But a least he's trying and I respect that.

Now, off to walk Calypso.

No Booty Calls !

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Mon, 09 Jun 2008 23:00:00 +0000

I sent this video to TypeASuperFit.

two down

noreply@blogger.com (Cat's Experiment) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 08:57:00 +0000

The Traveller is travelling again & with all his family responsibilities (two sons, a sick mother and suicidal sister) I'm punting on this not being a good time for him.

Mr Enthusiastic told me on Saturday night he wasn't in a good place either. Which was fine with me..I like him as a friend, in fact he is a friend, a great one, but nothing more.

Which leaves Mystery Man. But he's only what he is, a friend, a buddy, an occasional dirty stop-over and excellent dinner companion.

So I read some astro stuff...all about Pluto in Capricorn and how it's affecting Gemini's. It said either I had great soul affecting sex or I went celibate. Either or. The best or nothing. I kind of agree. I realise my desire is very stop start. It could be based on my monthly cycle but it's probably a combination of increased chemicals each month and an actual desire for that person.... and vice versa.

Desire is inconsistent. Some things take precedent, paying bills, talking to friends, ...I don't have time to think or make it happen. It's just not important right now. This might change in a few weeks when the cycle begins again.

Right now a good bottle of champagne, a good night's sleep and a long hot shower are my current pleasures. Just remembered I have some prosciutto in the fridge...how I love that salty meat.. Here's a theme, food as a substitute..!