Friends

When I was younger, I got frustrated with always being the one to do the inviting, when going out and about, and never being the “invitee”. 

At the time my Dad gave me some advice. Stop contacting these people, they will either do one or two things.  They will either call you up in a few weeks to see what’s going on, or you may never hear from them again.

I’ve found the latter tends to happen more often.  Recently I was frustrated enough to take this drastic action again, and now two months have gone by and not a peep out of them apart from a random facebook message on a can of passion pop.

The thing is, I can’t figure out whether or not this upset me.  After 28 years it certainly doesn’t surprise me.  And instead of staying home waiting for them to respond to my text messages with the inevitable “sorry busy” message, I have been cultivating new friends and doing more things on my own.

It’s rather amazing how relieving it is, and how much happier you can be when you stop relying on other people to make your fun, and just get out there and fucking do things.  

27 Today

Today with much trepidation I turned 27.. leaving the era of "mid-twenties" behind and officially entering my "late-twenties".

I feel that a lady of my age, should perhaps be a little less excited about my birthday.  But this morning at 6 am I was awake and knocking on my parents door (that's right.. 27, single and living with my parents) to see what presents awaited me.

The sad thing is as you get older, the less fuss is made, when really I think more fuss should be made. I mean, I have survived 27 years in this dangerous world. A ten year old has only made ten.  Surely I have more reason to celebrate than them?

An entitlement to celebrate myself and the year that has been I think is completely valid.

So today I celebrate that since I turned 26 I have:

• Left my crappy supermarket job and got a real job
• Erased my debt with UK credit card providers, Australian credit card providers and Bank of Daddy
• Been on 4 dates
• Kissed only 3 boys
• Resolved to stop allowing unworthy gentleman access to my lady parts (and hence have gone through many packets of batteries)
• Completed half of a diploma in journalism and feature writing
• Almost decided on what I want to do with my life
• Put on 7 kilos and lost 4 (3 to go! Woo!)
• Attended 1 High School Reunion
• Battled with a stubborn case of adult acne
• Got my very first family dog.. in fact my very first family pet ever
• Have welcomed 4 friends babies into the world
• Seen 6 of my lovely friends deal with nasty break-ups
• Have been on 3 awesome trips – Bundaberg, Sydney & Byron
• Watched many, many hours of The Tudors, Gossip Girl, How I Met Your Mother, Big Bang Theory and Modern Family
• Spent countless hours daydreaming about the men of The Tudors and Gossip Girl (Chuck Bass, if you're reading.. feel free to have your way with me)

So as I prepare for a lovely home-cooked birthday dinner with traditional birthday trifle I’m thinking, despite first appearances, I’ve actually done alright for myself this year.

The one that got away

Yesterday I did the epic drive down the Gold Coast for Miss Indi’s very first birthday party. 

It was wonderful to catch up with old friends, but as always those pesky lingering feelings for old lovers always come back to haunt you.

When a relationship (if you could have called it that) ends because of changing circumstances rather than breaking up because they were a c*nt of a cheating bastard, it’s hard to know how to behave when you see them.

The first time I saw him I behaved rather badly, the second time was easier, but we ended up beign caught by an old guy in  a compromising position on the beach, pants around our ankles who asked if they could join in.

And this time. Well. It was ok. I knew he was seeing someone, but still, you always wonder.  We talked about real things like we used to (albeit, now it was about his new girlfriend), he teased my gingerness like the old days and we stood there in awe of the fact that 2 years ago we were drinking at Octoberfest and now our mates have a house and 2 babies.  Then scooped me up in an enormous lingering hug when it was time to leave.

I reckon if I had been drinking I would have attempted to flirt horribly and embarrass myself (hurrah for Sober October), but at last I behaved in a manner which I am not ashamed. As I was driving home I could actually admit to myself that I at last I am genuinely happy that “the one that got away” is happy.

And when I got home, I put on Love, Actually. Because sometimes a girl needs a Hugh Grant rom-com to remind her that it’s all going to be ok.

Growing Up?

Today two of my dearest friends and former housemates had a baby boy, their second and a little brother for Miss Indi.

As the happy glow of receiving the announcement text wore off, I started thinking about how much changes in such a short amount of time.  To me it seems like only yesterday that my housemates and I were partying hard in London, watching porn and doing lines of the coffee table on a Sunday afternoon.  The amount of Jack Daniels consumption on weekends led to the investment of a JD coloured carpet. 

Now, two are engaged, with a house and 2 kids, another just got married last week, another is married with a baby on the way, another two have been together in a grown-up relationship for nearly two years. 

And me... well.  I'm still trying to figure out what the hell I am doing with my life.

Still single, still zero idea what I want to do with myself and still not done having adventures.  Are we supposed to have it all figured out by 26?  

Should I be wanting a relationship and a mortgage and children of my own yet?  I know my mother is slightly distressed that her only child has no inclination to produce grandchildren any time soon.   My father is trying to get me to buy property.  But I'm still a bit "meh".  I could spend half my wage each week on a mortgage, or I could go on lush holidays accompanied by Mimco handbags, Ray Ban sunnies and Jimmy Choo's, and drown myself in French Martini's. 

Subconsciously, maybe my reluctance to grow up properly is a defence mechanism against another heartbreak like the last.  Alternatively, it's highly possible that I'm just a selfish being who doesn't want to let anyone into my own little world.

Either way, I welcome Master Charlie into the world and wish him luck

Facebook: Taking the Mystery out of the World

I’m coming up shortly to my ten year high school reunion.  An ominous affair which I am not sure whether or not I am looking forward to.

The thing is.. with Facebook “re-connecting” people from your past, I know what 75% of my former class mates are up to, or at least what they want the world to think they are up to, via status updates and photos.

Today I ran into one of my good friends from high school, and over the years had completely lost contact with.  I knew immediately that the attractive blonde was his wife, I knew that he had a fabulous job.. and I knew it all from facebook. 

In fact, I know who got married, had kids, got boob jobs, got engaged, moved away etc etc because Facebook tells me on a daily basis.

The only people that I am curious as to what happened to them in the past 10 years is the people who are not on Facebook, and who are also therefore are unlikely to attend the organised-on-Facebook reunion. 

Has our addiction to social networking taken all the mystery out of the world?  In the days before the internet one could day-dream about ex-lovers being utterly miserable, or the mean girl from school getting fat.  Now, through Facebook, I am aware of the truth that your ex is happily shacked up with his new family he left you for, rather than suffering a severe case of genital warts and premature balding.  I also know that the mean girls from my past are all looking obscenely fabulous, which irks me greatly. 

Whilst I’d never be one to ditch my social networking (am far too addicted), I dream of the day when I run into someone from my past, and can be honestly surprised at their news.

Comebacks for the Inevitable Question

I recently attended a 70th birthday and caught up with lots of old friends.

Some of the guests, I had not seen for more than 5 years, and the first question they inevitably asked me was “Got yourself a man yet”.

As I, slightly disheartened, asked my father (that’s right – I went to a party on a Friday night with my parents) to take me home, it occurred to me that perhaps I should think up a variety of excuses to use in such situations.  I mean, I could say “Oh, I’m not really looking/haven’t found the right one” however this makes for very dull conversation.

So I did some googling and found some that I think are rather good which I encourage all single people to use when there nosy friends start interrogating…

“Why limit myself to be dissatisfied with one when I could be dissatisfied with infinite variety”

“Married people are not superior people – even Frankenstine got married”

“Are you getting divorced yet?”

“I’m not done boozing and whoring”

And my absolute favourite…

“If you had a dollar for every time someone asked me that you may be able to afford me”

And whilst I do grumble that people were more interested in my love life then my career, studies or general state of well being, it was a pleasant evening all round, and it was nice to see that even after all this time, some things and people will never change.

“How Are You? What STILL Single?” “Oh Sod Off”

Recently I’ve attempted catching up with some people I have not seen in awhile, and their first question is always “Any boys” “Seeing anyone”.  Quiet frankly it makes me a little cross.

Whether or not I am seeing anyone is not an indication of my well-being, how I am doing, whether or not I am enjoying my job, how my writing or my course is going or if I am currently just a bit fat (well, this COULD be an indication as to why I’m not seeing anyone). 

My reply that indeed I am still single is always met with one of the following:

a) The right one will come along when you are not looking or
b) Plenty of fish in the sea, bla bla bla or
c) You better get a move on or all the good men are taken.

I don’t mean to sound so Bridget Jones-ish, but really must all the smug married people be so fricking patronising. Coming from a small town it seems your self worth is based on whether or not you are shacked up. 

The fact of the matter is, I can’t see myself staying in this supposedly idyllic (read dull) quiet coastal village for the rest of my life.  I am not done having adventures, and it would take someone extraordinary to deter me from this.  Yes it would be lovely to have someone to share these adventures with, but I’m just as happy with the companionship of my friends, and the company of myself.

And since my resolution to stop whoring around has left me thinking that perhaps finding a man should be a little higher up on my agenda (purely so I can relieve some of my daily frustrations in a more satisfying way), I am not going to go out of my way to achieve this.

I’ve managed to evade Mother’s continual requests for grandchildren by the addition of our adoring and affectionate Border Collie, if only I could do the same for my friends.

Distance is a Bitch

I haven’t bummed out about missing London Town in awhile now, but today I am longing for it.

It’s very hard to live a life when the majority of your closest friends range from 300kms – 20 odd thousand kilometres away. Especially when you know that one of them needs a hug, or a smack in the face, or when you really just want to sit down with them and have a glass of wine, or a cocktail at your favourite pub.

I’m so grateful that I get to see Miss Bella in a few weeks time, even if it is for a short weekend away.

And as for those of you 20 odd thousand miles away in my favourite home of London.. I think of you nearly every day. 

Praise the Lord for the internet.

The Most Fun You Can Have

Today I ventured down to the Gold Coast to see my very good friends Ali, Andre and baby Indi.  As always I had a lovely time, and that child is a delight to be around and makes my biological clock start to tick tock.

Saturday we went to Dreamworld (A theme park a’la Thorpe Park or Universal Studios for my overseas readers).  I am adamant that a waterslide, rollercoaster, hot dog and children’s TV characters combined is the most fun a girl can have without Vodka and boys.

Whilst lining up for another go on one of the most awesome waterslides EVER, my childlike enthusiasm could not be contained. One of the boys who was with us asked me how old I was.. but I do not mind.  I was enjoying myself immensely. 

When your weary or feeling small, when tears are in your eyes.. forget crossing that bridge over troubled waters. What you need is to shoot down into a massive cone of water on an inflatable tube. 

It will put a MASSIVE smile on your face. 

The Fine Line of Friendship

I’ve been in a bit of a dilemma recently. 

There is a line in friendships which sometimes you just have to cross. And this is the line between keeping your mouth shut and speaking up.

Those who know me personally know that I have never been one for the ‘keeping your mouth shut’ option and I’ve been known to put my foot in my mouth on many an occasion and say things out of place.

But sometimes it is called for. When you have a friend that you love like family and you see them doing things detrimental to their well-being, whether it be emotionally or physically, then I think it is your responsibility as a friend to tell them to quit being a dumbass.

I think that perhaps I’d rather be unpopular for awhile then sit back and watch something that is clearly not on.

2000 – 2009: A Decade In Review

Today is the 2nd of January 2010.  The second day of the year and the second day of the new decade.

The “Noughties” was a decade of change for me.

2000: Year 12, don’t work as hard as I should have but received good grades nonetheless. Am awkward looking, all legs, ass and arms as boobs have not yet arrived.  Awful fashion sense.  Very sad to leave school.

2001: Started university.  Studying (to my dismay) business, when would have rather been studying at NIDA or similar.  Think about leaving but decide to stick it out as was the easy thing to do.  Hoped to make lots of new friends at university, but found that it was as cliquey as High School.

2002: Year two of university.  Change my major from Tourism (pft.. what a joke) to International Business.  Decide that I want to travel. Obtain drivers license and first car – a 1987 Toyota Cressida with blue velour interior. Pa dies. 

2003: Final year of university.  Finish degree successfully, but having not tried nearly as hard as I should have.  Finally hook up with boy I had had crush on for year.  Boobs arrive. 

2004: Embark on a camping trip of Europe and see things I have dreamed about seeing all my life. Travel to Dublin, France, Spain, Andorra, Switzerland, Austria, Italy, Corfu, Germany, Liechtenstein. Set out on my new life in London but quickly find that it was more expensive that I thought and had no chance of getting a decent job.  Return home with tail between legs.  Get job in Real Estate.  Turn 21.

2005: A bleak year where I realise coming home from London was stupidest thing I had ever done.  Despise my job.  Take up Latin Dancing and quickly become very good at it. See Meat Loaf in concert. 

2006: Have nervous breakdown and run away from Sunshine Coast.  Arrive Terminal 1 Heathrow 19th June.  Bum around for awhile.  Go to Prague, Liverpool. Live in a hostel. Have heaps of fun drinking.  Hook up with lots of boys.  First cold Christmas. Work in a bookstore.

2007: Meet THE-Ex and start a disastrous 2 year love affair destined to end in tears.  Travel to Amsterdam, Dublin, Croatia.  Get a job in television.  Meet some of the best friends I have ever had. Spend Christmas in Scottish Highlands alone as THE-Ex was off cheating on me on a ski trip. 

2008: Move out of hostel into The Vale.  Ditch THE-Ex.  Meet the loveliest boy in the world, who I treated terribly.  Travel to Turkey, Oktoberfest, Copenhagen, Sweden, La Tomatina Festival and all around the UK.  Meet some more of the best friends I have ever had.  Do good in career. Start seeing THE-Ex again.  Leave London in a blaze of glory to return home.  Turn 25. Job prospects look bleak.  Very depressed end to the year.  But best New Years Eve ever.

2009: Go to Perth, have heart broken by THE-Ex again.  Spend a miserable 6 months on the dole due to the Global Financial Crisis.  Granny dies. Get job in supermarket.  Meet some friends at job, but find my soul slowly dying from mindless, monotonous job.  Turn 26.  Pleasant Christmas & New Years. Finally get a career job to start on January 4th. 

So that’s my decade in review.  Bring on the next decade, which there still seems to be much debate as to what we are calling it.  The teens? The tens?  I hope someone decides soon. 

New Years Resolutions

New Years Resolutions.  Made in good faith this time every year and destined to be broken by February.

My list is similar each year and somewhat resembles one of my favourite heroine Bridget Jones’.  Each year I fail miserably.  It was on the news just the other day that it is pointless to make them because 90% of people don’t stick to them. 

2010 is looking like a promising year for me so my resolutions this year are going to reflect my new full and happy life.

1. Lose a bit of weight.  Which was successfully achieved during 2009, however have put it all back on again during the birthday/Christmas festiveness.

2. I would like to complete the Beginners Italian CD course that I purchased on a New Years resolution whim in 2005. 

3. I will astound my new bosses in my job, and strive to do my very best at all times. Even when hung over and all want to do it crawl under desk with a pillow.  I will not be lazy and avoid doing work by doing tea rounds, but tackle everything head on.  After a year on unemployment and working in a supermarket I will not complain about having a lovely office job ever again.

4. I will stop letting men sleep with me whenever they want and instead try this “hard to get” business I hear so much about. 

5. I will try and eat more fruits and vegetables. This is on the list every year and every year I fail because I just don’t like them. Broccoli – Blugh!

6. I will move out of my parents home.  As it is just depressing to be living at home at the age of 27.  This will also lead to family relations improving, stress levels decreasing and an improvement in my love life. 

7. I will make more of an effort to catch up with friends, instead of idly laying in bed watching DVD’s and moaning about being bored.

8. I will spend less time on facebook and on my computer farting around, unless I am actually doing something productive like writing for the blog or writing my book. 

9. I will save all my pennies to enable travel to the UK to visit my lovely London family.

10. I will not sulk about being single, but develop inner pose and authority and sense of self as woman of substance, complete without man, as best way to obtain man*

Auld Land Syme!

*This is stolen directly from Bridget Jones Diary by Helen Fielding.  I think this is one of my favourite resolutions of all time.

New Friends & Old Friends

There is a beautiful poem by an author I cannot recollect that goes (something along the lines of)…

Make new friends, but keep the old
Those are silver, these are gold
Old made friendships, like fine wines
Age will mellow and refine
Friendships that have stood the test
Time and change, are surely best
So make new friends, but keep the old
Those are silver, these are gold

I read recently in Cleo magazine that you change your social circle almost entirely every 7 years.  When I actually thought about this I found it to be disappointingly true.  I am friends with few that I was at the age of 19.  People with whom I was then inseparable I have not heard a peep from in years.  Moving overseas for 2 years made me realise who my real friends at home were.  People I thought I was close I did not hear from at all during my travels. 

But last night I was privileged to enjoy dinner with old friends.  People I have known since I was in early high school, and whilst we may not see or speak to each other regularly it doesn’t matter. It is one of those friendships that has stood time, change and distance, that falls into easy familiar patterns.  I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. 

Cherish these sorts of friends dear readers.. for I find they are few and far between.

The Loneliest Time Of The Year

Today is December 1st and as I sit listening to Christmas Carols, I get that familiar tug on the heartstrings I get every year that reminds me that I am single.

In general I quite enjoy being single, I can snog and shag whoever I like, and I no longer spend my weekends washing my live-in boyfriends work clothes, shopping for food to feed him during the week and then not seeing him from Friday Night until Sunday Arvo.

But as soon as the tinsel comes out I find myself longing that I had myself a little 3 bedroom Old-Queenslander, a Christmas tree of my own to trim, a group of friends that I could bake Christmas goodness for, and someone to share it with.  All in all, the holidays are truly a terrible time to be alone.

I’m sure that this year will be better, I have finally got some friends on the Sunshine Coast that want to play with me and unlike last year, I have all my lovely things around me in our new house (even if it is my parents). But as it gets closer and closer to December it also reminds me how very far away I am from the people I love the most.

Ali, Andre and Indy (about 300kms), Saffa & My Godson (about 800kms), My Brother & Nephews (about 1800kms), Miss B (about 4000kms), My London family (16,533kms).  All so very far away. 

It’s days like this that I praise the invention of the world wide web. Because of email, Skype and Facebook I am only a click away from the people I love.  And quite frankly I’d rather wake up alone on every Christmas Morning until I die than be without my extended family of friends. 

Day 16 of 365

Old Insecurities Run Deep

When I was in Bundy over the weekend I got a bit of a shock.  I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a girl I went to high school with.  After some sneaky reconnaissance I established that it was definitely her and a funny thing happened.  My confidence levels and happy drunken high dropped and I felt nauseas in my tummy.

Isn’t it funny how you can not see someone for years and they still make you feel the same way that they did 9 years ago?  We were quite good friends, but for the four years at high school she was constantly putting me down in a non-obvious way. And the most I ever did to stand up for myself was not accept her friend request on Facebook last year.

Obvious put-downs I can handle. I’m prepared for them and can let them slide of my back.  It’s one disguised as favours or compliments that I have never been able to deal with.  Perhaps because my Mother is such an expert at these. Anyway this girl used to do allot of “let’s give you a make over so a boy may actually be interested in you” etc etc, which quite frankly made me want to crawl into the cupboard under the stairs and cry.  Because I knew perfectly well that I wasn’t very attractive at the age of 15 (I didn’t get boobs or hips until about 20), and I was a bit strange back then as well.  And people drawing attention to this bothered me.

It bothered me as much as people saying “You’re so funny Ginger”.  People have been saying this to me for as long as I can remember and every time, even when its from people whom I genuinely love and I know genuinely love me, it’s like a little punch in the gut.  Because I feel deep down that they mean ‘Funny Peculiar’ not ‘Funny Ha Ha’. 

I wish I could say I was brave and went and spoke to High School Girl on Saturday night, but I didn’t. I just couldn’t face it. Especially the “What are you up to now” conversation that is obligatory.  So I avoided her, and soothed my distress with Vodka and dancing to Sexy Guitarist.

POST / DAY 15 of 365