Godspeed, Little Man

Today was little Brody's funeral, and it brought me completely undone.

I can only imagine how incredibly hard it must have been for his mother - to wake and prepare for the day that she will be putting her 6 week old child to rest forever. To deliver a very moving eulogy, to share her babies story with a church full of people without collapsing in tears. To hug every mourner as they left the church, to smile and accept their condolences without wanting to scream at them. To nurse her other child on her lap, to hug him and squeeze him as they lowered her baby's casket into the ground. I know for sure she is a much braver woman than I.

I would have been a bawling, weeping, moaning mess. You know the Muslim women you see on the news, the way they howl and paw at themselves, throwing themselves to the ground? That would have been me. And i wouldnt be finding comfort in religion of any kind - i dont mean to offend anyone but i hate the hypocrisy of Catholicism. I hate how when good things happen it is Gods glory, his miracle, his wonder; but when babies are stolen away from wonderful kind people its all " God works in mysterious ways " or " He must have needed that angel back ". God gets all the glory but never the blame. Frankly, i think thats absolute crap ( and a whole other post ).

So i went, and i wept for what my friend had to go through. I wept for the thought of what i would do if it were me and my child. And wept for what my parents would have had to do almost 22 years ago. I wept for the little boy they had to put in the ground. And when little Brody's burial service was over i went to my brothers grave and i collapsed onto the grass and i cried there, with him, privately. I cried for all those things and more. I spoke with my brother and i told him how Flynn knows his name ( even though he doesnt pronounce it properly ) and how he can point him out in photos. I told him how Flynn is built like him, small and nuggety, and how our Dad says Flynn reminds him of his son. I promised to bring Flynn to his grave and tell him that we love Uncle Eli. And as i wept and talked and tried to arrange my flowers as best i could, two crows flew overhead.

I dont know what you, out there, believe - but i know what i believe, and i know who those two crows were and why they were there, watching over me. I carry them on my shoulders ( quite literally, tattooed there forever ) at all times, and today they came when i needed them....

Baby Love

So after yesterdays news i've been keenly aware of and crazy in love with my son today. I felt a pang in my heart for what my friend has lost, and couldnt help but imagine myself in her situation. It did upset me for a little while, and then it made me want to run to my son, scoop him up, and never let him go. Of course, that just isnt possible ( especially not with such an active and wriggly toddler ..... ), as much as i wanted it today.

Image from here

What i did do is just took the time to really be with him - not just in the same room, not just absently mindly playing with him whilst thinking of something else but actually "being" with him. We had a playdate with another mum from mothers group during which i let him run and play and do his own thing but the rest of the day i made him my focus. Even when out shopping with my sister i made a point of talking to him, doing wheelies with him in his pram, rubbing his hair as we strolled - little things that made me feel connected to him.

He fell asleep in the car on the way home from the shops and i put him gently in his bed. When he woke after half an hour a bit distressed ( he's cutting his canines and they arent playing very nicely... ) instead of shushing him for a few minutes and then shutting the door i climbed into his bed with him, snuggled in under the doona and we had a nap together. Its been a long time since we've had a nap together and it felt good. Not only to get a bit of extra rest, but to have that snuggly, warm, bonding moment that i'm sure will be less and less frequent as he gets older.

Once he finally gets to sleep tonight ( again, those teeth are playing havoc ) i might go in and steal one more baby kiss before heading to bed. I'm just hoping my own sleep tonight is less restless than last night, when i couldnt seem to shake the sadness of the " what ifs? "....

Trusting Yourself - 15 Minutes To Live

So, with only four days ( or prompts left ) in the 30 Days of Music challenge ( another post to come this afternoon ), i was thinking i was going to be back to posting the same old stuff again, and hoping that i wouldnt bore all you readers to death. So, happily, whilst cruising around the forums on Digital Parents i found a link to a new (and somewhat more meaningful ) writing "challenge ". In celebration of Ralph Waldo Emerson's 208th birthday, the good people who run a website in homage to him are running the #Trust30 initiative:
 #Trust30 is an online initiative and 30-day writing challenge that encourages you to look within and trust yourself. Use this as an opportunity to reflect on your now, and to create direction for your future. 30 prompts from inspiring thought-leaders will guide you on your writing journey.


Now, like the 30 Days of Music challenge, i think i might spread these prompts out over the course of two months - and seeing as the content will probably be a lot " heavier " in nature, i'll probably need the extra time to think them over.Plus, i'm already a day behind so it wont be so bad if i skip a day or two. So, day one?
( By Gwen Bell ) You just discovered you have fifteen minutes to live....

Image from here

Without a doubt, after giving myself 30 seconds or so to panic and ponder my own mortality, i would have to contact my most treasured of loved ones. Only those closest to me, those who have supported me, loved me, truely known and seen and lived me.

To my fiance - Thank you for finding me, and for being ready to accept the love i had to give. You were the light at the end of a dark tunnel, the dawn at the end of the longest night. I love you, and always will.

To my son - If your father was my dawn after night, you are the sunshine who keeps the clouds at bay. You're my honeybee, my baby cakes, and even though your feet smell i love your guts forever.

To my mother - we had our struggles ( as sulky teenagers are want to cause... ) but we've come good in the end. Realise the potential that you have, and go with it - stop your worrying and let yourself "be". And love yourself, the way you always, even in your funny way, loved me.

To my sister - i love you, and despite having called you a bitch when we were kids, i dont really think that. I think you are headstrong and sometimes a bit dramatic, but that you are stronger than you imagine and will make it in the end. Forget your naysayers, and remember you.

To my father - my rock, my sounding board and the first man i ever loved. I am proud of the way you live your life, proud of the way you love your family, and proud to be your daughter. See you on the otherside, wherever they may be.

To the rest of the people who inhabit my life i'd have to leave a farewell note - short, sweet and to the point:
I loved you all. Goodbye, and good luck...









 

That Small Warm Weight

The small, warm weight of him is nuzzled against my stomach, his head sweaty against my breast. He has been here for days now, feeling safe encircled in my arms. Without the use of words, we communicate with touch - i know his tummy hurts so i give it a gentle massage; i know his throat aches so i offer him his water; to show how sleepy and sick and altogther frusturated he is he pulls gently at my ponytail, at the soft flesh under my chin. He wants no-one but me - even the Daddy he idolises so much has been pushed aside - and i feel strangely honoured that he wants me as his comfort.

His mum. Mummy. Muuuuuuuummmmmmy.

Yet, i too feel frusturated. I want my lap back - selfishly, perhaps, i want twenty minutes to have a shower without hearing the tired moans of my son, or an hour to cook and eat my dinner without having to fork mouthfuls of food very carefully over the top of his fluffy head. His father would take him - has taken him - but the constant siren wail of " Muuuum! Muuummmy! " is too hard to listen to. It is easier to work around him, to suffer the sore back and numb buttocks for him, to only go to the bathroom when he has fallen asleep and can be put down.

And then, when i again shift my weight beneath his smallness and find a new comfortable spot, i remind myself how lucky i am that it has only been days. That it is not months of sickness, of suffering, of tired frusturation. That we are at home on our lounge under a blanket watching Sesame Street and Play School, and not stuck in the paediatric ward of a hospital. That i even have a child to be sick, when other women want so badly to have a fluffy, sweaty, bundle calling out their name. And, most luckily, that i have family to support me, who gladly agree to take my boy for the night so i can cook, and eat, and fold the four baskets of washing that have piled up in the few days he has been sick.

And i smile through my discomfort, and hold him tighter. I brush the soft hair across his forehead, stroke the smooth baby skin of his cheek. This is only temporary, but he is mine forever....

I Couldnt Have Said It Better

Those of you who are regular readers around these parts would know that I am getting married in November ( which is only 7 months away - yes, don’t remind me... ). Now I have never been the kind of little girl who dreamed about a huge princess-y wedding, and neither was I the type to know exactly what dress/theme/flowers/cake I wanted by the time I was 10 years old. Thusly, I have been a little slow off the mark in getting things organised for the big day. The dress is taken care of, both venues and a photographer have been booked, I’ve enlisted the help of a wedding planner to do the decorations ( and she's also sourcing my flowers from the Sydney markets ) and the cake is generously being taken of by Micks aunty. There are plenty of small details to be taken care of but the one big thing I’ve yet to organize is the ceremony.

Despite both being christened, neither of us is religious, so we’ve decided to have our ceremony held in a local park and conducted by a marriage celebrant ( who happens to be my old yoga instructor. ) Because I haven’t been bothered haven’t had time to find my birth certificate yet ( which is somewhere in my filing cabinet, somewhere in the garage ) so we haven’t had an official meeting with the celebrant yet, but I have been pouring over the information she gave me in regards to what style of ceremony she can do, and I have been trawling the internet trying to find some beautiful readings. I haven’t been able to find anything that really resonated with me, and that hadn’t been read to death at other people’s weddings…. Til now.

This morning i was browsing my Google reader list and noticed that the lovely Maxabella  from Maxabella Loves had made a new post, so i clicked on over. What i found was a post in regards to what marriage means. It.Was.Beautiful. I have no other words except to say that what Bella has written rings so true for me, is everything that i would like to say about what i hope for my marriage, and it would make the perfect reading for my wedding ceremony. I have commented on her post and asked if i could get her permission to use her words at my wedding, but i might try and get a hold of her on Twitter to ask the same. I've just re-read over her words again now, whilst writing this post, and they are making me choke up ( Gawd knows how i;d be at the actual wedding ). Please, do yourself a favour, head over to Bella's page and read what she has written - and then pop back here and let me know what you think, and whether you have any recommendations for a second reading....

Lover Boy

I just wanted to let you all know that i am madly, insanely, crazy in love with a boy.... and its not Mick. He's really gorgeous, a great kisser and hugger and is hilariously funny. So who is he?

Oh yea, there he is .... its Flynn! I just had to share with the world how much i am loving Flynn right now - he's 14 months on Sunday and so much is happening. He took his first steps way back in December but this week he has really started walking properly. He's still wobbly, and sometimes he only manages half a dozen steps before he falls down, but its beautiful to see how hard it tries, and how big he smiles when he gets it right and i clap for him. He was walking all around the loungeroom today, and kept wobbling over and giving me a huge cuddle, or blowing raspberries on my neck, or giving me a big smooch on the lips ( complete with exaggerated " mwah! " sound ). We went shopping and he said hello to almost every single woman we passed ( dirty flirt! ) and was blowing me kisses from his stroller while we waited at Medicare. Everything he did today was just so gorgeous....my heart couldnt help but swell with love, and pride.
Do you ever have moments like these with your kids?

Dear Flynn, Aged 12 Months - Happy Birthday!

Dear Flynn,
Well you made it, my gorgeous little man - as of 5:05pm yesterday afternoon, you are now officially a one year old. ( Which means that Daddy and I are now the parents of a one year old....which is kind of weird to say ). Over the course of your first year you have grown into such a beautiful little dude - and you are a dude, a wrestling, wrecking, crazy little boy right to your very core. Yes, i've seen you play with dollies, but 99% of the time its trucks or tractors or pulling things apart ( and making a big mess while your at it ). And you weren't ever one of those androgynous-looking babies either - it was clear to every random old lady who stopped us down the street that you were a little boy. See - you're a total dude.

Chowing down on some birthday cake yesterday - it got soooooo much messier after this photo was taken

You love your food and though i try not to let you eat too much i am starting to become convinced that you do, indeed, have hollow legs. And its not just how much you eat, but what you eat - i'm so glad you're willing to try pretty much everything ( you know, like gherkins, or olives or yummy, yummy prawns .... ).However, i'm concerned that by the time you turn 15 our groceries will cost us $1000 a week, just to keep up with your appetite. So, whats happened in the three months since my last letter ?

* You've totally mastered the whole crawling thing, and have progressed to pulling yourself up on everything and anything, cruising your way along the furniture. However, despite being awesome at the whole cruising thing, and very easily able to hold onto things with one hand and stomping those little feet, you havent started walking yet. I know its not really cause for concern but, let mummy be frank here, i think your just being lazy. I've seen you stand on your own - holding something in both hands, without holding ON to anything - and once or twice you've easily taken little steps behind your cousins dolly pram.... but when Daddy and I try to get you to take those first steps, you just giggle and squat down your little bottom. I know you can do, and i'm i know you know how to do, you just wont. I know i'll regret saying this later but hurry up and get your walk on little man!
* You're turning into a real little chatterbox. Sure, a lot of it is crazy, indecipherable baby-babble, but you have picked up some really great words, like " hello! " ( which is the first thing out of your mouth of a morning, and doesnt stop until you go to bed ) " En-nen " for when Aunty Erin is hanging out with us, or just in the last week Mummy has started hearing a " ank ooh " when I ask you for a " thank you ". Too cute!
* Lastly, but most importantly.... i can finally add "champion sleeper " to the list. Yes, since our visit to Tresillian back in October, you have kept on with the 11-12 hour sleep throughs overnight, and the 1-2 naps twice a day. This has not only allowed Mummy to get her sanity back, but it has also transformed your personality. You werent ever naughty before, but you were a sooky-la-la baby a lot of the time and, in retrospect, i know its because you were overtired. Now? You're a sweet, affectionate happy little man, who is happy to play with other little people without having to be attached to my lap, and who is laughing, and smiling, and gibber-gabbering more often than you are sooking.  Halle-freaking-lujah!

Oh, how i love you, little man. Daddy and I were talking about it the other night, and we just cant imagine life without you anymore. You are our sunshine, the love of our shared life, and our " little mate ".
Love ya guts little man,

Your very proud Mama.

Go Now, Into The Light

I have just come from the funeral of the schoolmate i mentioned here.

I cried - i cried tears of empathy for his mother and the mother of his children, both whom were shuddering with big, animalistic sobs. I cried tears of grief for his children, who will grow up without a daddy. And i cried tears of happiness for myself, that somewhere inside i found the strength that he could not, and escaped the same fate.

And i was ashamed. Who cries for themselves at a funeral? I have every empathy for his family, even more so that i am now a mother, and each moan that escaped his mothers body broke my heart. My own parents have had to bury a child, so i have some understanding of how much strength it would have taken for her to stand in front of everyone and place loved possessions on her sons coffin. I hate that they have so many unanswered questions, and that they'll never get the chance to have them answered, except when posed hypothetically. I cried tears for all of that, for their heartbreak and their grief and their anger. Yet, mostly, i cried for myself. Everytime suicide was mentioned my thoughts turned to how close i came to that decision, and the lyrics of the songs his family chose to farewell their son, brother and friend brought me further undone.

I didnt attend the internment - i felt i didnt have a close enough relationship to be at this more intimate rite of a funeral, and that my presence at the funeral ceremony was enough to show my respect. Instead, i drove straight home and gave my son the biggest hug i could muster, and sent Mick a message telling him how much i love him. Its all i could do and i hope, in case of dire circumstance, it will be enough....

The First Blush Of Love

Welcome back to my " What the reader wants, the reader gets! " week, to celebrate my 300th post milestone. Todays suggestions comes from Jaded Vixen of The Jaded Gym Junkie who wrote:
I'd love to read a post about your first love! They're always interesting stories! x

Aaah..... young love. I'm always interested to hear other people " first love " stories but, to be quite honest, mine isnt really all that special. My first love - if we're talking about that first boy you ever held hands with/kissed behind the toilets/ wrote " Mrs Amy Blah De Blah " on your notebook love - was a boy we shall refer to as K, and i was around 10 years old. We went to school together and it was of those situations where he got someone else to run up to me and say " K wants to be your boyfriend. Wanna go out with him ? " and i say " Yep. OK ". Of course, at 10 years old, " going out " means nothing more than eating your lunch at the same table, lending him your favourite pen, and walking home holding hands. All of which K and i did. We lived close to one another so we hung out on weekends too ( with other kids around ), down at our local playground and riding our bikes. We were friends. But, as happens with almost all first love, it eventually had to come to an end . I cant remember exactly what happened but i'm pretty sure it just came down to boys are still kind of weird and icky when your 10 years old. Eww, boy germs - gross.

As for my first adult love, well.... truth be told, during high school and the first few years of my twenties, i was a chronically shy and socially anxious kind of girl. I only had one boyfriend and a handful of dates here and there. I told one guy that i loved him but, in retrospect, that was completely misguided and i didnt really mean it ( although i thought i did at the time ). So, i'm happy to say, my first, proper, real, adult love is.... Mick.

                         

We met on an internet dating site, our first date lasted for five hours, i went away for the weekend to visit his family after only two weeks.... and now we're engaged and have a gorgeous, smorgeous baby boy. We tell each other " I love you " every day, several times a day, and i can tell you, for my part, that i mean it every single time its said. All thats left now for us is a wedding ceremony ( which could be at the registery office - its the marriage bit that matters to me ) and more bubbas!

Oh, and PS - if you havent already done so, leave me a comment letting me know what you'd like to see me blog about this week!!

Dear Flynn, Aged 3 Months

Dear Flynny,


Hello my darling – my little bubba boy. Its Mummy! You’re 3 months old now and I cannot believe how quickly the time has gone by ( it’s a cliché I know, but its true ). It feels like just yesterday they were popping you up onto my chest, your skin all soft and wet and me in tears. And now here we are, 3 months later, and you still sometimes have me near tears with how beautiful and clever you are ( very occasionally its because you wont go to sleep… ). In just this past week you have learned to:

a) Pull yourself up to sitting if someone holds your hands to steady you ( you could already go from sitting to standing on someones lap )
b) Reach out and grab things ( your right-handed by the way )
c) And roll from tummy to back ( and almost from back to tummy – you keep getting stuck on your elbow )

All that in just one week! I’m sure one day soon I’ll blink my eyes and you’ll be sitting on your own unaided, or will have got yourself wedged under the coffee table somehow because you crawled off when I wasn’t looking.

You’ve grown into a bit of a cheeky boy – you poke your tongue out when your happy ( that’s my fault for teaching you how ), flirt with all the checkout chicks and old ladies who stop us in the supermarket and smirk at me when your supposed to be falling asleep. I pretend to be grumpy and tell you “ Shut them eyes, Smiley! “ but really you could just stare up at me all day long and I wouldn’t be too mad. I probably wouldn’t mind at all except you really do need to sleep at some point ( and so does Mummy – nanny naps are important ). You think your Poppy S is hilariously funny and your not really scared of B anymore ( even though she made you pee yourself like a scared puppy… ). Both your Grandma and your Nanny show you off at every opportunity and H tells everyone she knows about every single thing you do ( you’re a very cool cousin to have apparently ).

Your daddy and I love you very much. We were kind of nervous when we found out you were coming into being, and we were kind of a little, tiny bit scared when you were born, just because we loved you so much and we were a little unsure how good we’d be at being your parents. But, after 3 months, I know that we’re doing awesome. How do I know? Because you’re awesome – and happy, and healthy, and learning and growing everyday. That means we’re doing something right, even when sometimes Mummy feels like she might have done something wrong. Daddy never feels like that, and he tells Mummy she’s doing great. He’s a good Daddy. Always remember that. Oh, and always remember we love you, love you, love you! ( and that if I ever catch you smoking, I’ll kick you right up the bum ).

Big, big snuggles and kisses,

Your Mumma

Oh.My.God - There's Poo On My Carpet!

Ok, firstly, let me just get the whole post title explanation out of the way. Its kind of self-explanatory really - theres poo on my carpet. Why? Because my adorable 11 day old son shot liquid poop at me. It was kind of horrifying at the time: there i am, changing his nappy and then i hear this telltale squelchy fart sound and.... poo shoot! There it was, pumpkin yellow liquid poo squirted straight of his little bum and i'd only just managed to jump out of the way. Which meant that i was spared a spray all over my shirt, but also that the offending poo ended up on the carpet. It was horrifying at the time but now its hilarious. Seriously, imagine ( if you will ) seeing something similar on " Funniest Home Videos ".... yep, hilarious.

Ooh, also, i got thrown up on for the first time today. Ace!

Aside from these little misadventures, things are going quite well with mini Flynn-y and I. I'd heard all the horror stories about getting zero sleep and high-pitched sqalling crying that never ends... but i havent had much of that. We had a horror evening last night - to the point where i got all teary and felt like the worst mum ever because i couldnt figure out what was up with my baby - and i think he's having an early growth spurt because he's had a period everyday for 3 days where he feeds, sleeps for around 40 minutes and then feeds again, but on the whole the first ( almost ) 2 weeks have been a little easier than i thought. Not that i'm gliding through motherhood like some kind of superwoman either - my boobs are sore and heavy sometimes, i havent had a proper time-to-myself-shower since the birth and my back is killing me by the end of the day - i'm just saying that it hasnt been the nightmare some women made it out to be.

But God love those poor new mums who do have a rough time of it - i get a cranky crying bub for 4 hours and i get upset, so anybody whose doing it tougher than that gets a round of applause from me...

Love-ly Distractions

So - i've been thinking: its been a rough couple of weeks for me, what with itchy skin, then appendicitis and abdominal surgery, and just in the past 4 or 5 days i've developed some pretty strong pain in my lower back and hips. I dont want to complain too much because a bazillion women have been pregnant before me, and apparently the back and hip pain is pretty damn common.... but hey, knowing all that doesnt make it any less annoying. However, in the spirit of loving my pregnancy, and loving my body, and loving my life i thought it might be nice to set down a list of 5 things that i'm loving right now ( and are distracting me from the twinges in my back and hips. Stupid twinges. )

1. Facials: and we may aswell count massage in this category aswell. I've just came back from having an organic facial and upper body massage this morning and i have to tell you - it was bliss. Anybody who has ever had a professional facial or massage is feeling me on this, and anyone who hasnt - well, you people are missing out. If you can get past the fact that a stranger is touching you in a somewhat intimate way ( and sometimes in somewhat intimate places... ) then an hour set aside for a massage is the perfect " me " time. I'm thinking i might go once a month from now til the bubba arrives.


2. Shemar Moore : Need i say anything but - look at him ? Yes, i'm in a committed and very loving relationship with Mr Gil but Mr Moore over there is a nice little piece of " look, but dont touch " eye candy. You know how when you're in a relationship each partner gets to have a " list " ? The list of fantasy partners that they would theoretically be given a free card to sleep with if you had the chance ? I havent told Mr Gil yet, but Shemar Moore is totally on my list. Gimme, gimme... gimme, gimme Moore!


3. Garlic : Hello, pregnancy cravings! Rather than crave icecream with pickles or chocolate coated onions ( or any other disgusting concoction you can come up with .... ), i've been craving garlic. Specifically garlic bread, but meals with a good garlick-y component will suffice. I've heard that too much garlic in the third trimester will give me heartburn. And i've also heard that a lot of heartburn gives you a baby born with a lot of hair. So best i can figure is:
Garlic + 3rd tri = heartburn = fluffy headed baby.
Whats wrong with that ? If its a fluffy headed boy, i am so styling his hair up like Wolverine!

4. Reading: So simple, but something i dont always take time out for. Of course i've been reading a lot on pregnancy lately - pregnancy and parenting magazines, health care guides, pregnancy specific websites - but i'm talking more about books. Novels. Literature. I went through a major love affair with reading this past December/January : i knocked over " Pride and Prejudice ", " Jane Eyre ", " Perfume: The Story of a Murderer " and " Everything is Illuminated " all in that two month period and then i took a brief break before starting " Lolita ". It was a great book, but when it was finished the passion for devouring books had vanished. Well - its back baby! I finished " Sense and Sensibility " last night and now i'm on the prowl for the next great literary adventure....

5. Naps - the naps are soon to dry up ( seeing as i'm allowed back to work next week ) but for the last fortnight or so they've been a blessing. Everyone loves a good nap right ? People who say they dont need them or think napping is lazy - poo to you! Naps are a great way to spend a lazy winter afternoon when your home alone, plus they have restorative powers. At least, thats what i'm sticking with!

More Cosmic Weirdness

Oh Universe - what in the boojesus kind of game are you playing ?

Today is Friday the 13th of February ( ooh, Friday the 13th...spooky ), the day before Valentines Day, and i had a single red rose delivered to me at work. Guess who it was from ? Average Joe. What ?!? I went one one date with him, 3 months ago, and he send me a rose for Valentines Day. I also had an email from him earlier in the week, saying he would love nothing more than to take me out again. 3 months after our first date.
And did i mention he sent me a rose ?

Don't get me wrong - i thought it was sweet, and very flattering, and i sent him a message telling me so. But what am i supposed to do now ? I'm 90% sure i still dont want to go on a second date with him, but now that he's forked out for a rose, on the most expensive flower-sending day of the year, i feel kind of obliged to see him again. But so much has time has passed, and various unanswered emails have been exchanged between both of us ( meaning i have sent a few he didnt answer aswell ).... a date now would be majorly weird, wouldnt it ? There'd be crazy awkward pauses in conversation, and eventually he'd want an expanded explanation of what i really thought of our first date. I dont want to put myself through that do I ? But then again, the poor guy was apparently kind-of, sort-of crushing on me big-time. Maybe i owe him another chance ? Maybe he's seeing something i just cant.

But here is the second part of my dilemma: i have recently started communicating with another guy, still kind of tentatively, but he seems really sweet. Should i now put off meeting up with this guy for a casual coffee or something, just so i can give Average Joe a second chance ? And why is it this all becoming weirdly complicated on the eve of Valentines Day, when i was perfecly resigned to staying in by myself and watching a Clive Owen film ( mmm...Clive Owen... )?

So i guess it all comes down to a handful of questions :
1. What is the Universe playing at ?
2. What should i do about Average Joe ?
3. Is Average Joe a stalker ?

Help me people, this is so not within the realm of my experience!

Love is all around me....

I am not alone. Obviously - i live with my parents and my younger sister, i'm NEVER alone - but thats not what i meant. I mean I am not alone in my quest for true love - apparently you all have issues too. Seriously. If i was to have a rough guess-timate I'd say that 67.3% of the blog posts i have read in the past week have related back to L-O-V-E . People falling love; out of love;having new crushes; crushing over exes; wondering where it will lead and wondering where it all went wrong. It seems that we in this particualr blogopshere are a complex set of creatures, and we're all looking for lurve.

So i said in my last post that I'm going to give a second date with Joe a shot, and Steph wonders if my date must have been all that terrible in the first place. Wel, it wasnt - it wasnt terrible, it was just " meh ". And, on the scale of things, " meh " is not as bad as " argh! ", is it ? If you're wondering what scale it is that i refer to, it is as follows:

1. " Argh! " = terrible; horrible; could not have been worse;
2. " meh " = yea, it was alright .... i suppose...
3. " Woo hoo! " = great; fantastic; mind blowingly ace;

So no, i wasnt tearing my hair out at how awful it was, but i wasnt exactly " Woo hoo! "ing either. And so, on this occasion, I've decided that " meh " deserves a second chance. I mean, what if the first date was just a one off and the second one completely rocks my socks? I could potentially miss out on that sparky " Woo hoo! "ing because Joe was having one off night. If worse comes to worst, the second date totally blows - but then i know for sure right ? Plus, we all need bad date stories, the horror stories we tell our friends and siblings ( and blog buddies ... ) to demonstrate just how bad the whole love caper can get. Like, I dont know, when your date spends approximately 97% of the night talking about how uch he earns, how much he owns and how much it costs - and even goes so far as showing you numerous pictures of his flat screen tv. Like they were pictures of his kids. Prententious much ?

So, if any of you blog readers are in half of a loved up couple, how did you meet your other half ? Is there anything i should be doing that i'm not ? I want the secrets of the love universe people! Open up!

Freedom for free love

As of late this blog has been pretty light and fluffy. That is to say that my posts lately have been mainly of the " humourous rant " variety. Well it is not always sunshine and lollipops here people. I have a real rant today and i just wanted to see what you people thought.

See, I was absentmindely reading news articles on the internet today ( during work hours - i know how to waste time too... ) and I came across an article about Hallmark producing greeting cards for same sex marriages. I'd link to the article but the article itself is of little consequence really. No, its not the article that has me riled up but the barrage of comments left after it. Frankly, some people are dipshits.

Just to clarify - I am not gay. I like men ( although I'm starting to think that maybe they dont like me so much, but thats a whole other post ). So, yea, I like men, but I also like men who love men, and women who love women. I'm just in love with the human race so it doesnt matter to me who each specific human happens to be in love with. I also do not give two figs about who you choose to have sex with either ( unless you're into man+dog=love, or woman+horse=love - that shit is just sick! ) Basically I'm all for people, whether they be gay, straight, metro, retro, black, white, tran, tri, bi or otherwise. And not only am i for people, I am most definately for people being in love. So if your name is Elton and you love David, then I'm happy for you. If your name is Ellen and you're in love with Portia, then thats a beautiful thing. And if you all want to get married, then i wish you all the love and happiness in the world.

My bug bare is that not everybody else agrees with me. You know how when you're in love with someone there are still things about them that you might not like ? Yea, well like i said i'm in love with the human race but the thing i dont like so much is those of us who are close-minded, abusive and inconsiderate. The first comment after the article was a " God thinks homosexuals are wrong " rant, and it just carried on from there. Of course there were individuals such as myself defending the right to love whom you choose, and the right to marry whom you choose, but the majority of commenters were being downright homphobic and, frankly, disgusting in their arrogance and, in some cases, hypocrisy.

So many of the commenters claimed to be good, upstanding Christians who were disgusted in the fact that Hallmark would produce such trash in support of what is morally wrong and a deadly sin. Firstly - love is a sin now ? Secondly, I was rasied Catholic ( until the age of 15 when i told my priest that i didnt believe in God ) , I've read the Bible, and i distinctly remember the part about love thy neighbour and do unto others as you would have them do unto you. So why are these supposedly Good Samaritans treating others like dirt ? I'm sure they dont appreciate it when people call them, oh, i dont know , brainwashed red-knecked Bible bashers, so according to the book and, indeed the God they so revere, they should be treating gays and lesbians with the utmost respect. Thats what gets me about the Christian faith, or at least the way it has ingrained itself in society - so much of it has been twisted and warped and is nothing like the author of the stories intended. Yep, i said stories....

The second thing that got me about some of the comments was people who were saying they were against same sex marriage because marriage is defined as being between a man and a woman. By whom exactly ? By law makers ? By some fat old men hundreds of years ago ? Newsflash for those people - laws can be changed! Definitions can change too. Funnily enough, not that long ago the most common definition of " gay " was completely different, so why cant the definition of marriage be changed? To me, marriage is about love, not biology. Marriage is the best expression of love, of being so completely enamoured of another person that you want to spend every day of the rest of your life with them. And as far as I'm aware that depth of love is not exclusive to a man-woman relationship, so why should marriage be exclusive to hetero couples only ? It just doesnt make logical sense.

And to those who said marriage was about having children - BBBBRT, wrong. Sex is about having children. What we know about human anatomy and biology says so. Sex is completely possible without marriage, and marriage is possible without children, so your theory makes no sense at all. The whole idea that being married is partly for the purpose of producing children is just another Christian idea thrust upon as all.

I dont want this to turn into a Chrsitian-bashing post, or an anti-religion rant. Far from it. Unlike so many deeply religious people, I dont try to push my ideas and beliefs upon others, and try to uphold a basic respect for others rights to their beliefs, no matter how ridiculous, backward or just plain wrong i think them to be.

So what about you people ? Any opinions on the topic, whether you're for or against gay marriage ? I'm not usually so politically charged or socially controversial, but sometimes things get under my skin....

Carson Kressley - stylist, fabulously flamboyant gay man, inspiration

So here's the thing - i desperately want for Carson Kressley to be my cliche gay friend. So does my sister. Maybe we could share him, and we'd be this cool, well-dressed little trio. I'm obsessed by fashion makeover shows and, if i had cable or pay tv, i'd probably only ever watch the fashion channel. Point is, Carson is my favourite of all the celebrity style gurus. I'm loving his new show here on Channel 10 - " How To Look Good Naked ". Ironically, apparently the key to looking good naked is knowing how to dress yourself, or so the theory goes. See, the basis of the show is that Carson takes a woman who has body issues and teaches her to love her figure by showing her how to dress for her best assets. Its actually kind of a theory i wrote about in a post a few months back - only i didnt exactly advocate the getting naked part.

Anyhoo, this brings me to the crux of my post. After this weeks episode, my sister and i discussed the parts of our bodies we like - and, i'm glad to note, we both had positive things to say. I dont know if i've mentioned it before, but although my sister and i both wear the same clothing size, we have vastly different body shapes , plus she is 7 years younger than me, so it was nice to be able to share and compare with someone who was going to have something different to say. My sister, in my perspective, is tall and thin, with long-ish legs and a small upper body. She's the kind of girl that can pull of a micro-mini, where as i am not - but thats all good. I totally rock a pencil skirt because of my curves, where as my coltish sister probably wouldnt be able to get away with it.

And so, this brings me to the shortlist of things i like about my body. Yep, even though i do blog about going to the gym, and trying not to eat crap, it doesnt mean i'm suffering on a diet or having overwhelming body-hate issues. Here it is, a post where i, a young, modern, woman, lists the things she LIKES about her body:
1. My waist - so alright, i like my waist. Its a small, defined, waist. I'm not going to give a measurement ( even though i know it ) but suffice to say i go (slightly) out at the chest, in in the middle, and out at the hips. Having a well defined waist means that when i wear my favourite pencil skirt with a fitted top, or a cute fitted dress, i get that awesome, old school, hourglass shape. I like that, too.
2. My upper arms/shoulders/decollatege - so technically thats three things in one, but they're all kind of inter-related. What i like about the aforementioned area is that its toned and tight, a legacy of yoga and light weights training. I dont have that flabby, old lady upper arm thing - which is not to say i would hate myself if i did, or anyone else for that matter - but i've worked hard and it shows. I'm proud of that. It means i can pull off strapless dresses or cute little camis and still look trim and toned.
3. My eyes - i know most women would list their eyes as one of their favourite features - because its really hard to find fault with them - but i really do like mine. Their big and their brown, and i have naturally long eyelashes that only look better when coated with lashings of black mascara. They get played up by purple shadow or liner, and are the first thing i choose to highlight for special occasions make up. Its kind of hard to go wrong with my eyes ( unless i let my 2 and half year old neice do my make-up - it was a fun game but she's not coming at me with an eyeshadow brush next time i hit the pub ).

So there you be. Any ladies readers feel free to take this as a challenge to list your own body loves, and male readers should feel free to take it upon themselves to list what they really love about the female species. Share the love, y'all, share the love!