Aversion Therapy

Well recently, I have been trying to take my mind off things that I don’t want to think about. I have been out to lunch a few times with men (although I was related to one of them and totally the wrong gender for the other so its not quite as exciting). I have been out to a museum and a movie, I have hosted a ‘Bring Your Own Beef’ at The Mansion and I have been out for drinks with mixed company. On the plus side I once again participated in (or was the recipient of) much kissing, butt pinching and arse slapping (often an amusing pastime with the right person), sadly however, on the occasion in question it was all platonic and meant to go nowhere. Not that I actually wanted it to go anywhere, because I didn’t, but it might have been nice if there was something else that could’ve gone somewhere. You know? Maybe not.

As far as distractions go however, these were effective but only temporarily so. With the rest of my time I have been going with the theory that if I tire myself out then I won’t have the energy to think about stupid stuff. The most I seem to have gotten out of this is more muscle tone. Which in and of itself is actually a benefit anyway. Still, there is definitely nothing exciting to report and I am hanging out till my sister, the Pussycat, comes to stay. We have a plan to go out and potentially meet people. Whether we actually end up meeting anyone or not isn’t actually the point. Its more about doing stereotypically social things that other young, single, stupid and alcoholic people our age do, ie. putting ourselves in situations where we could easily meet people.

So maybe that activity will actually net something interesting to talk about and stop me returning to the fact that what I want and what I can have are sometimes two very different things. Not to mention the fact that what I want and what I think I want are also sometimes two very different things. I do try to keep these particular occurrences to a minimum as they tend to confuse the crap out of anyone for whom they become obvious but nobody’s perfect. Which reminds me of two things, the quote by Ashleigh Brilliant, ‘I may not be totally perfect, but parts of me are excellent’ (I rather like that) and the song I’m Just A Girl (which I actually heard again the other day). Neither of which are particularly significant, I just thought I’d share.

Anyway, before I get to the weekend of fun and childish larks that my sibling and I will embark upon together, there is the long weekend to fill. Assuming some other individuals do not bail, pike or otherwise act like total pansies, I should be occupied for most of it. I may even try to write more. To be honest over the past couple of weeks, anything I’d have written would probably have sounded pathetically whiny and even I get sick of the sound of my own voice. Just as I get sick of other people. I swear, whenever I read the comments on the SATC blog there seems to be an inordinate amount of trash talking between the sexes. Of course, I could just stop reading it but sometimes it is nice to remind myself that there are people out there with way bigger problems than me.

Crushed

How do you crush a crush? How do you stop the mind from wandering where you prefer it wouldn’t and dwelling where you wish it didn’t? How do you stop thoughts from rattling around your head whose purpose really only serves to make you tired as opposed to actually getting you somewhere? Perhaps I should have taken notes last time. All I remember was that awareness that something was there and later the realisation that it wasn’t. But I don’t remember what came in the middle. Which could either be because I have a mind like a goldfish on occasion or perhaps because it is hard to remember something of which you might not have been totally conscious in the first place. Either way, I am feeling at a loss now.

What advice can you really offer to anyone in these circumstances? Even if its not a crush per se but perhaps a relationship that has been redefined as being less than what it was. What actually helps? Find something to take your mind off it? Remember that this is only one day out of many? Hold onto the fact that time heals all wounds? Be thankful that you don’t have a job cleaning up camel dung in Egypt? I can’t say that any of those would really do it for me. Or for my sister the Pussycat either I’m sure. In some respects we have been two different sides of the same coin recently and I feel just as inadequate trying to offer her consolation as…well I don’t actually know that she felt inadequate at all really, I just know I did.

I hate seeing people I care about struggling with anything. I always wish I could somehow make it better. However that might be accomplished. I was bored the other day and I got a questionnaire emailed to me about identifying what it takes to be my friend or something like that. One of the questions was if my friends could only be one thing out of four – what should they be and another was if my friend was going through a rough time, what would I try to do about it. I found both questions equally annoying because I don’t think my friendships can be defined that simply and they are all individual. Sometimes you need a bit of the silly and sometimes a little bit of the serious. Although I can’t always tell which would be more appropriate.

We usually all figure it out though in the end. You put one foot in front of the other and deal with the fact that Monday follows Sunday. You try to ignore the flat forehead you get from beating your head against the wall and whenever life knocks the stuffing out of you, you end up spending a little time putting it back. And as this is getting reflective, I now I think I need to go and do something frivolous for it is Friday. Yay. Any ideas?

I Need A New Hobby

There is something to be said for being of a cautious nature. Or perhaps that was being lazy. Basically whatever it is that has stopped me from going broke, starting a degree I’m never going to finish, moving somewhere I really don’t want to live and generally getting myself in way over my head. It seems that occasionally when things throw me emotionally off balance (although not in a bad and falling on my arse way, just like when you’re walking across something and you find you need your arms out for balance kind of way), I grasp onto something else that will keep me busy and possibly be that elusive answer to the riddle of my life. Or perhaps that was the riddle of me. I have been told on more than one occasion by men that I am a riddle wrapped in mystery inside an enigma. What is that? Apart from obscure I mean. Or maybe that was an I am obscure…?

Anyway, my most recent Grand Idea was that I could afford a house. By myself. And not just any old house but one with at least two bedrooms and in an area that is not so out of the city that it may as well be in another state. Which is a plainly ridiculous notion at this point in my life. I’m not saying I could never do it, but tomorrow? There’d be a bigger chance of hell freezing over I think. So due to my not actually pursuing my Grand-Ideas-as-a-result-of-not-thinking-clearly over the past year I won’t become a proud home owner yet, I’m not living in a big city where English is a second language, I’m not living in a small country town either, I’m not employed as a pole dance teacher and am not earning qualifications in Stupid and Pointless Areas. Amongst other things.

Now I don’t think any of those could really be considered as particularly radical which now that I think about it, takes a little fun out it don’t you think? I mean if I’m going to be impulsive and act on all my whims (for which I am eternally grateful that I don’t) then fine. I would definitely have some more interesting stories to tell, like that one time, at band camp (sorry, lame joke), but since I don’t (and my band camp stories aren’t that interesting), I may as well have some more bizarre ideas that I have no intention of following through on. A quick scan for unusual careers has netted the following possibilities for my next coordination challenge: Golf Ball Marshal (its outdoors, sporty and has the potential to inspire bad jokes), Mortuary Beautician (you get to be a make-up artist and you never have to worry about your subject moving or making your job difficult) and Actor for a Haunted House (possibly involves travel and it could be kind of fun to scare the crap out of people continually).

With so many possibilities out there just imagine what I could come up with next time I feel the need for a distraction. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade they say. In the mean time though, writing about it will just have to do. Or perhaps not writing about it is more apt. Occasionally I write things that are quite specific (which does actually help me) but sometimes references really are obscure. Perhaps there’s more truth to that whole riddle thing than I thought.

Heart To Heart

I got asked the other night how my love life was going. In one of the random and rare moments of near quiet that happen in The Mansion where I live, the PSW and I found ourselves sitting down together at the table to share a meal and a beer. Well actually he had the beer and I had the meal, I have never had a taste for the beverage. We also had a catch up on what’s been going on in our lives recently and pretty much on both sides, it was a whole lot of nothing. Not for want of trying however. You might say I just had the shortest, um…‘something’ that I’ve had in a long while (well, not including a few pash-and-dashes that is). It is probably preceded only by the couple of days I was ‘going with’ someone when I was twelve. Ah…those were the days.

So yeah, in the space of about half a week, things were, you could definitely be forgiven for thinking, ‘on’ and then definitely ‘off’ again and the whole thing seemed slightly complicated at the time because there was ‘history’ there. And no, it wasn’t the person I ‘went’ with in year six. Rather this was a person who I have been continually drawn back to over the past six years but with whom I seem to share monumentally bad timing. Since we both found we were living in Sydney, we have caught up only a handful of times but at those times it seems the possibility of an ‘us’ gets floated and then systematically thrown out. Only this time the idea was a little more than floated. And then it was thrown out. And I’m still not quite sure what I think about that.

Our relationship in my mind has always been kind of unique. Perhaps because he’s one of the few people who know me well and can call me on my bullshit. Conversation always seems to flow when we’re together and I rarely ever need to explain myself but at the same time, he frequently comes at things from another angle entirely which intrigues me. Because we can talk about practically everything, we have had a discussion about what was and what wasn’t and we are officially ‘cool’. We have also talked since and we are still cool but I guess its also kind of been on my mind. I am not desperately unhappy with the whole situation (and am therefore wondering if that lack of intense emotion signifies something) and truth be told, I still actually feel like a bit of an idiot.

Part of me wonders whether I deliberately get myself into situations that I know won’t go anywhere. The situation I am in now is vaguely familiar. ‘Its not you, its me’ doesn’t ever really make you feel any better in these circumstances although maybe it stops you obsessing what it was about you. So I am not upset but I would say that I was disappointed I guess. For once I wasn’t all weird over the situation which seemed a good thing but at the same time, that didn’t stop me from looking forward to some degree. Which was obviously now quite premature. And then, there’s another part of me that wonders whether this is really for the best and may serve as some sort of closure to the ‘what if’ question that occasionally pops up. Who knows. I really don’t. They say everything happens for a reason – maybe I just haven’t figured out the right one yet.

Slow News Day

I suppose I should have tried to back date this post as it now seems rather inacurate but oh well.

Well I have to say that there is not really much to say at the moment. Despite spending part of my weekend in Bondi and Oxford Street, things have been relatively quiet. Or perhaps that was relatively comfortable. I had a long overdue catch up with the Italian Man and Nature Girl and also Mr Flatmate and as I have recently found out, his now fiancée. We ate, drank and were merry and its always nice when you can go out with couples and not feel like the third wheel. It doesn’t necessarily stop you from looking at them and hoping you can find something similar but I think an enjoyable evening was had by all.

A few other people joined us that evening as well and we each caught up on the comings and goings of everyone else (whether we knew them or not) and just let the evening flow. I believe we did start out with grand plans for a massive pub crawl but somehow bums got planted on seats, additional rounds were ordered and we forgot to migrate. We were all enjoying talking about everything and nothing, from wedding plans to racing around town with giant inflatable dinosaurs. As you do. There was of course the almost obligatory recap on my dating prospects or lack thereof as well.

Fortunately or not (whichever way you want to look at it really), I actually had something to report this time. I had pretty much decided this week that it was all past tense but the night managed to put a positive spin on the end of it for me. I just needed to hear a ‘yeah, right on, you deserve more than that’ this week and funnily enough that came from the Italian Man. Sometimes I probably do need to be told that I should just chill out and give things more of a go but sometimes I just want to pander to the girl part of me that doesn’t want anyone else to solve my problems or offer advice but to just listen instead. And I know there is no logic to that but thats women for you.

As an aside I would like to point out here that there was nothing inherently bad about the so called ‘dating prospect’ (or the experience as a whole). It was just that whilst he ticked a lot of the right boxes, the ‘it’ factor was just missing (I am assuming for him too as he didn’t contact me either). That connection that has you wishing you could share something with them to find out what they think, or wondering how soon you can talk to them again just wasn’t there. My only wondering about someone else at the moment, and its more curiosity than anything else I think (inspired by something else entirely), has actually been directed towards someone else. Hardly a good sign really when you think about it.

And speaking of that someone else, I just thought you’d like to know that in my effort to get in touch with this person again I got to feel like a prize knob by exhibiting behaviour which seemed unfortunately stalkerish. After calling an old work place to be totally fobbed off by the wicked bitch of the west (‘well if you are a friend I can only assume he will be calling you’), I rang seemingly random numbers in the phone book till I located his parents. Sad but true. You may commence laughing. Now who says I don’t know how to have fun?

Heartbreak Hill

Something that I didn’t mention at the time was that Sydney recently hosted, the City 2 Surf. This is the annual race where thousands of people from all over Australia come to run through Sydney’s Eastern Suburbs. The route is about 14k’s long and goes from, well, the city to the surf really. It starts off at the intersection of William, Park and College Streets in the city and finishes up in Bondi just short of the Bondi Beach Pavilion. This year it seemed like half the country woke up early to be part of the race as either a participant or a spectator. There was a record number of entrants at over 63,000 people, which is a lot for Sydney, and I hear Bondi was packed. I actually wasn’t there though. I was part of the other half of Australia that Sunday and I woke up late with a hangover.

I was out the night before celebrating the imminent departure of two of the Bring Your Own Beef Crew*. Or that was celebrating their presence while I still could as they were about to depart for their new adventure in Melbourne. Many of us were partaking of pints or other measurements of alcohol served by that fine establishment, the Lord Nelson and it was a fun night. It would have in no way prepared me however for ‘Heartbreak Hill’, a notorious stretch of the race route which would be a breeze if only you were travelling in the opposite direction. Unfortunately though, for the less than extremely fit, it has been most aptly named. Now this has absolutely nothing to do with the price of fish of course but it somehow got me thinking – can anything truly prepare you for Heartbreak Hill? At least in a figurative sense?

In my more cynical moments I start to wonder if I’ll ever really find myself in a serious relationship that doesn’t end in heartbreak. And I’m not whinging ‘poor me’ here, more questioning why it could actually work without said heartbreak. I know it does of course but still, sometimes I wonder if I could live with one guy for the rest of my life. Maybe I hear too much living with five boys and need to remember that girls are not so innocent either when we get together. Maybe I see too much as well. I mean as much as I’m rather amused that ‘Dick Masterson’ obviously read (at least two sentences on) another entry, and I happen to find parts of his site quite funny, I can’t really imagine wanting to spend more than about 10 minutes with him or any of the people who take him seriously. But I’m sure that’s not really a problem because I assume at least, the sentiment would be totally reciprocated.

So occasionally, faced with members of the male sex that I don’t understand, I am left pondering just what sort of person could possibly turn out to be ‘the one’. Or in other words, who could I put up with and who could put up with me. By and large I’m sure this is a reasonably pointless exercise. No one gets to plan out their life to that extent (and if they do, they’re probably not very happy with it anyway). Occasionally though (and unfortunately sometimes), I don’t come up with something better to do with my time and I figured the net was as good a place as any to publicise some insignificant thoughts on the topic.

*This is literally ‘BYOBeef’ as a group of us get together every Sunday for a BBQ dinner and we provide our own meat.