Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Whats in it for me??

My question for today is this..

Do we ever do anything out of the kindness of our heart?
Really?

Remember summer romance Alex? Back in post 2?
I have been doing him a favour for the past two weeks.
I thought I had convinvced myself that it was completely alturistic of me, done for no other reason than for his benefit and the benefit of mankind in general..
Then yesterday I had to admit to myself that, if I was truly honest with myself, I am really doing this so that he will think I'm the most fantastic person he has ever met, fall instantly in love and marry me.
Which is of course insane.
He lives in another city, I dont know him, he is the wrong star sign.... the list goes on.
But we are all a little bit insane.
If I look at why I do anything, even things for my own child, or my parents, there is always a "buy in" for me, even if its just to make me feel good, or to get someone off my back.

It's a horrible little part of us that makes it all about me, me, me, what's in it for me. I would love to exorcise it.
But for now I think I will take a good hard look at it, and see it for what it is.. unhelpful.
I will tuck it away, right at the back of my mind, and try to focus on helping this almost stranger, who I will probably never see again, and try and build up the RIGHT reasons, one by one.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Boys.. Things you should know..

.. about where to pick up a girl.

Dancing

Men dont dance anymore. Now I dont mean bouncing around a dancefloor with your mates on a Friday night, lurching round trying to get a good look down some girls top.
I mean proper dancing, partner dancing.
Have you ever been swing dancing? or salsa? or even good old ballroom dancing. Its HOT.
I belong to a swing club (gotta be careful who you tell that to and in what context) and the main reason I joined was because of the social nights at a local bar.
You walk in to the strains of Glen Miller et al and you are transported back. To a time when men are dressed like men, not boys, who come up, take your hand and throw you round the dancefloor- then buy you a drink.
Its sexy, its fun and its guarenteed to get you laid boys.
There is a ratio of about 10 girls to every 1 boy, and even the not so hot boys are in demand all night long.
You do the math.

Gay Clubs

Every gay man has at least one best girlfriend. Who gets dragged week by week to the local gay bar.
Whilst her friend is doggedly making his way round the tonsils of every single man in the club what is she doing?
Gagging for just a scrap of male attention, thats what. Its fun being able to dance with no inhibitions for about the first 30 minutes. Then it slowly dawns on her that she is as invisible as a geek at a star trek convention.
Apart from the odd boy who will come up and say "gosh girl you are so dammed cute" but before the sentence is even out he is making eye contact with the Jude Law look alike behind you.

Last week I spent the entire night dancing with the sole straight man in the club, he wasn't my type, in a normal world I wouldnt have registered him, but he was there, attentive, and straight.
It's an untapped market guys.

Sewing Class

Now I know this one is a bit of a stretch, but the classes I have been to...
12 women, all around 20-30, not one man.
Imagine..
You are the sole man. You dont know how to sew. Are women not by nature rescuers?
All of a sudden you will have 12 women falling over themselves to show you how to overlock your seams.
You just need a really good reason to be there, a manly reason.
I cant think of one right now.
Damn.








Thursday, January 13, 2011

Dear Norm...

We have been friends for 4 years.
Over that time I have seen you date the entire workforce of a certain company, advised you on whether it is a good idea to flirt with a teenage nursing student, and defended your honour to a exorbitent amount of annoyed women.
So ya know, we have history.
I like you, I respect you, I feel your pain honey.
Thats why I am doing this, with little or no anger in my heart (well maybe an aorta or two.)

You know I try to live by Buddhist principles. I know that confuses the hell out of you. But this time, they saved your butt.
The one that has always confused me is "all the suffering in the world comes from cherishing yourself, all the happiness in the world comes from cherishing others".
This is fab if we are talking the girl at the supermarket checkout, or the little old lady crossing the road, but in relationships? Does that not mean doormat time? "patiently"accepting your bad behaviour with an angelic little sigh?
So this is what i have been thinking.

I love my kid. I love my cat.
If my kid decided he really wanted to stick a firecracker up my cats behind, would I let him? Because I cherish him?
Likewise, would I let you run around town with only your underpants on?
So if we follow that little convoluted pathway, why on earth should I allow you to continue to treat me in the way you are.
It is not good for me, Its not good for you. Its not good for your reputation, our friends, or the future of mankind.
So it's going to stop.
I am cherishing you by removing myself from your world.
Because a doormat has no power to help anyone, all a doormat can do is get more and more angry until one day she wears herself out with all that stomping on.

About the underpants... maybe one little lap around the waterfront on a Saturday night...

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Second Base Hussy

The moment Matt embued me with this mantle I just knew it would make a great Blog title.

Lets zip back a bit and I will tell you a little about my journey thus far, and why I am embracing my new found Hussyness.
So I am single, perpetually it seems like. Not because Im not attractive, not because Im mean, unkind or otherwise personality defective.
I am growing more aware of why, and you know what? Im fine with it, I wouldnt have swapped the past few years for all the men in the world (well, maybe Alan Rickman).
So now, 2011, my 37th year looms and I am excited.
I have found my oomph, my kapow, and I am about to unleash it on New Zealand.

It started with Norm, sorry I know its a naff nom de plume, but really - he deserves it.
This boy has been a long term, crying on each others shoulder friend, he comes with a rap sheet as long as the Amazon river and a string of broken hearts floundering in his wake.
So of course, at the end of last year that little self destruct button dwelling in my breast piped up with "me, me, try hurting me for a change" and before I know it we are embarking on a journey of sillyness.
He was clever.... Hit me with " Ive always been in love with you, lets get married and have 2.5 kids".
As I was reeling from this, simultaneously naming our children and making plans to flee to Sth America, he turns tack.
Spanning the range of ignoring.. beginning with not answering the phone right up to not returning texts.

So I had a choice. Now for a bit of context, this is not the first, second or even third time I have been in this situation. So I did something different for a change.
I dumped his ass, before he could dump mine.
Via Facebook email!
Kapow..

So fast forward to a 3 week holiday in the sun, a roadie with my gay BFF Matt.
He happens to be a therapist so we had a weepy, exultant, intense trip. Processing to the max.
We even had a theme song.
And just like a beautiful butterfly, the new Miss G emerged.
Enter Alex...

Hot, sweet, successful, and guess what? Into me!
He lives in a different city so I didnt have to do the whole "How am I going to turn this into a relationship" thing. I could just enjoy his company and the thrill of the moment.
Dont you love campervan holidays? Matt was passed out in mine, Alex's mate in his.
So we did what any self respecting thirtysomething would... made out in the grass, like teenagers, for 2 hours.
Hence Second Base Hussy.

Then on the way home, Matt and I went out in my home town. This is deserving of a blog post all to itself really, but to be brief...
Bumped into my old crush, he broke my 17 yr old heart by dumping me for a blonde hippy.
He was still lovely, sweet, long brown hair.
This time though, completely into me. I didnt want to push the Hussy lable too far, so just sang the words of Katy Perry's "teenage dream" into his ear and kissed him goodbye.
Kapow..

I am no longer 17. I am no longer desperate for any little scrap of love.
I am a Second Base Hussy goddam it, and I will make 2011 the year of kissing boys.
You heard it here first.

Monday, January 10, 2011

An Explanation..or apology

If you find me, here in cyberspace, I wanted to explain what I am doing, and why on earth I am inflicting myself upon the blogosphere.
I have had other blogs, you are not my first. As much as I love my other blogs I felt that they were just not meeting my needs.
As I rapidly approach my 37th year I have reflected upon my life, namely my lack thereof... dont get me wrong, I have had an amazing life, full of.. well everything really, apart from romantic relationships.
I have had flings,I have had crushes aplenty, I have had medium length relationships.
But never the real thing, and always losing something of myself in the process.
Sometimes my dignity, usually my car keys, and often the one thing that I need the most.
My confidence.

So this little bit of nonsense is my new years resolution, in a diary.
I will relay my adventures anonomously as I forge the rivers of other, whilst clambering up the mountain of self, hopefully eventually sticking a bloody great flag of love in the summit.