Sunday 27 June 2010

The cold front

Tonight was a different kind of night. One of those ones where everything should be right, but it just isn't.

I compartmentalise things. Lots of people do but most people are capable of doing so long before things are 'sorted'. There are things that need sorting things in my head is just one of the very complicated things that makes me very complicated.

So in an exceptionally brave, uncharacteristically 'lets deal with this' I tried to deal with something that was never dealt with.

In dealing with things that are not dealt with, you have to take a risk. I am on the whole a spontaneous risk taker. I have a focus of how I am going to handle things and I stick to it. This invariably involves not appearing vulnerable and never exposing that someone has the ability to hurt you. Occasionally spontaneity takes over and I feel the need to expose the one thing that terrifies me most — me.

So tonight, after the night that should be right but wasn't, a moment of spontaneity took over and I decided that things I hadn't fully sorted, needed sorting.

The one thing I never allow for is that my moments rarely coincide with anyone else. I met a brick wall, a block of ice, and it upset me to a level that I thought I was incapable of.

Not only had I risked showing that my air of nothing getting to me, was possibly a front. I had to face the other thing that I fear most - That some people are just cruel. They may not be underneath but really, does underneath matter that much when other people have to fight so hard to get to the underneath? Whether there are issue that cause it or not, there is no necessity in life to be cruel to other people. None.

So it was an odd evening and one that ended badly. I am staggeringly upset.Upset because no matter those around me that say I should be more open to being vulnerable, more willing to be honest, they are making their assumptions on their own experience of dealing with peoople capable of being honest.

Mine is not so great. Being honest, trying to deal with stuff in my head is not all that it is cracked up to be.






Saturday 26 June 2010

When being me isn't me

An interesting night and one sure to cause much reflection.

I was set up. Spontanious BBQ, requested early attendance to assist friend, who turns out to be single. I am touched, initially not overly delighted but in fact, it was a lovely thoughtful gesture and it wasn't a man that was weird, short, ugly or old.

In fact, as a hard core runner and cyclist - he was a man in good shape and as the evening progressed, it was clear that there was potential for something, not sure what but definately something.

However, he is a good looking, man partly transformed from his military history but burdened by family duty which frankly, makes him very............traditional.

Traditional is not necessarily good, traditional can step into old fashioned, which can step into narrow minded. Narrow minded is never good. Family duty is admirable but to the level this man is bound, probably a curse. Bound by tradition and responsibility is an unlikely combination to appeal long term. I fear Responsibility is drawn of duty and not the same as being driven - which is far sexier. I suspect that the reality is that I am simply too challenging for a man like this and in fact I have met another cute man that stands zero chance of ever understanding me.

Now I have an issue. Nice man, nice body - both something I could benefit from for a short period and not something likely for a long term.

In some senses, this is all great - I am not sure I want a long term. On another level it raises issues for me, such as getting involved with someone you have no intention of anything serious occuring, is so far removed from the me that is currently me that I am quite perplexed.

Me being me is not a moral judgement, it never has been. It is just very me.

Last night made me question whether I should drop the old me completely and just start having fun. He did have nice legs and so I feel it sensible to review my thought process.

It also taught me that I was right about other things. Gut instinct and sexual attraction are not mutially exclusive. Having one without the other is just different.

Sometimes I think I think too much

Monday 14 June 2010

Eyeball table tennis. Game Suspended

In between vodka and eyebrow wax there was an opportunity for eyeball table tennis. Having considered that the scope for attractive and possible was fairly limited in local region, I was surely delighted.

And then I decided that I simply could not be bothered.

Yours liberated
X

In face of revelations

Sometimes, life is just one revelation after another. Sometimes you think you have faced all of the revelations that you could possibly face in a lifetime.

Sometimes, just as you believe that, you are faced with another.

Then you realise that the true test of being a woman is pulling yourself together and telling yourself that no matter what else is thrown your way - you will simply just deal with it, since there are only two choices: Deal with it or throw the towel in.

I decided on a stiff Vodka and an eyebrow wax.

Bring it on, I can face anything.

Sunday 13 June 2010

A new religion


Thank you to the person that sent this. Brilliant


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=atBg9zLI2bA

Penis Envy

I went back to work on Saturday. Whilst working on Sunday I got a message to say that they would contact me about return to work training. After I had returned to work. Enough said.

Having to work to pay all the bills and support the children is turning into an eye opener. Not the working, that is not an issue and really, being in control of my own life is always going to be better than someone else controlling it, but in terms of managing time and the effect on the children.

I worked all week. I am having to work 4x the amount I should because I am working in an area that I know little about. Working for yourself means that a lot of the time you are working, you are not actually earning any money at all. The days are shorter because of the children and so that doubles the time. One day without children is like two days with. Without children, you can start early and finish late. With children and you are running from task to task and never really feeling as if you have achieved anything.

So this week was full on. Tuesday, with the added requirement of attending some kind of group meeting, I left the house at 8.30 and got home at midnight. Weds, I left at 8.30 and got home at 7pm. The rest of the week were just school hour days, and I then worked Saturday and Sunday. Somehow I managed to get some food shopping and finally got the washing done. I am not sure how and I think I saw the children but I cannot actually remember when.

Last week was their first holiday in childcare, the novelty of which ran thin fairly rapidly. They are used to holidays where they get to lie in, where they get to go out and generally we all sigh with collective relief to have a break from the hell that is the school week. No more - from now on they will get holidays in childcare. I suspect they will not be overjoyed and frankly, I missed them and they missed being at home.

One of the small ones is still clingy and this is not helping. Tummy ache on the phone on Saturday and 2 episodes of night terrors all ready and it's only 11pm. Pile it on. I have a guaranteed 48hours of trying behaviour before some kind of normality returns.

It is times like this week that I feel I might be inclined toward penis envy. I used to think it was strange that it was on the whole, an assumption that women were the ones to be the resident parent. I could understand that from my experience they were the ones that were closer to their children and more in tune with their needs but I had a mental block with the assumption.

If I meet a non resident father that says he works hard in the week, I may be forced to punch him. If you think working all week is hard, you should try doing it whilst looking after 4 children. Oh and add alternate weekends on to the list too. I think I have finally worked out why so many men are so keen to walk away from responsibility, because the real responsibility is just plain hard and for some, just too hard. Perhaps this is the test of a real man.

And on another aggrieved note. It is round one in court this week. Aggrieved because it all such a waste of money. I originally requested that round one was an FDR, which is a way in which you go with the intention of trying to come up with agreement that avoids all the extra court dates. The opposing side agreed, except they didn't actually answer any questions.

You cannot go into an FDR without all the information. So it was changed back to a first directions appointment. The judge resides, you burn money at a barrister and all that is going to happen is that the judge will decide which bits of paper really are required and tells you to go away and find them.

Having seen the other sides Form E, there were a few questions asked. Actually, having read the form E - there were a few things that I had to read and reread in incredulity. Some of the things on left me so stunned that I had to laugh hysterically, for some time. So staggering that I have decided to save it all for prosperity. If people can actually convince themselves the truth in untruths, then the world is indeed a scary place and I fear for my children.

So fundamentally, you only go to an FDA because one or both of you is not being open and honest and providing all the information they have been asked to. What you are doing is spending thousands on something that could have been done for nothing. This is what I call true insanity.

On the plus side, this is not my insanity and I know that as soon as this protracted, money burning episode of my life is over, I can actually get on with my life.

Children are more important than money ever could be.

Now that is perspective.




Monday 7 June 2010

By the hair on my head

I finally finished the divorce paperwork and went to bed at 5am. I lay there getting increasingly more irritated at the light shining through the stained glass panel in the wall, until I realised that it was not a light but in fact, the next day. I gave up after an hour.

I think that courts should allow extra time for resident parents. Half term, working and 4 children make mundane issues like paperwork a real challenge and so they get left to the last moment - at which point they cease to become mundane and become more of a crisis situation.

I detest the fact that enormous sums of money are being thrown at a situation that could so easily have been catered for by communication. Simply answering questions would have saved thousands. However, I concede that part of the reason for divorce is a marriage that lacked communication. Oh and infidelity, but even that kind of dishonourable behaviour and dishonesty, fundamentally has its routes in a lacking of communication skill.

I am simply exhausted.

For some foolish reason I decided to tint my hair in the midst of this. I forgot I had decided to do it and left it on for an hour. The end result is alarming. All I need to complete the look is to over pluck my eyebrows and wear gold earrings. Slap on a tad more take tan and I would pass for anyone working at the local funfair.

I am not entirely sure why I thought it would be a good idea to alter the colour in the first place, not only do I look slightly rough but it has the texture of an electrocuted skunk.

Looking hot.

Sunday 6 June 2010

Divorced from reality

It is a regular occurrence in this blog that I should question why people cannot look me in the eye.

I have just read the divorce paper work.

I have the answer.

Wednesday 2 June 2010

Tenuous links

When you are as mouthy as me then writing 250 words on anything is a huge challenge. More of an extended twitter than an article. Yet I achieved it.

250 words on mens propensity to wee on the side of the road, all tied in nicely with water conservation measures for the South East. The art of the tenuous link - one of the few abilities that I excel at.

It's journalism - but not as you know it.

It has got me thinking. My self esteem declined steadily in the last few years unhappiness and writing took the hardest hit. I fear I may be some time off a return but I am beginning to get the familiar niggle of wanting to scribble.

I am not sure there are many markets for pieces on male scenting on roadside but life is full of strange unexpected occurance.


Driving Ambition

I am supposed to be writing a sample column on motoring. My mind is blank. Apparently, Quentin Wilson is writing his sample to and for free. Thanks to his generosity, the increase in budget means that I am getting paid for mine.

He is no fool that Quentin. He can happily offer his wise words for free since he is unlikely to get turned away. I am happy to take the money on the basis that should I continue with my mental blank - it could be the last funding I see for some time.

Women and motoring........................nope, nothing.

Tuesday 1 June 2010

A worm in the head

I am having to draw a reluctant and decisive line under something.

For some time I have been involved in a round of mind games. A series so subtle that I have had to question whether I may in fact be going insane. I know I am not. I have had to acknowledge that in this bat and ball mind game, I have enjoyed it. It has been titillating, exciting, mentally challenging and thought consuming. So very few can challenge me in such a way that I remain hooked - never to be beaten by the latest subtlety, constantly pitting my instinct against my imagination.

I like it. I like the ability in this person to keep me rapt. Its like cerebral sex and like good sex - it is equally addictive. Except I don't want this from this person, I want more and I always did.

I finally got it the other day. This is the bit this person is good at and equally I can hold my own, but I can do the next bit too and they can't. I always did want the next bit and all I have done in becoming rapt by the mind games - is guarantee that the next step could never be attained.

Mental challenge, chase and titillation is safe sex in the extreme. Since you cannot put your finger on it and dare not say it aloud then there is no risk. No blatant emotions on the line, nothing to get called up on, nothing concrete that could have accusation or demand attached to it. What I achieved is a few weeks of mental foreplay and whilst in ways that has been what I like -it is not healthy or good for me.

If there is one thing I have always been certain of is that you are unlikely to meet anyone quite like me. Good or bad, I know I am not any ones idea of predictably female. I can live with this. For all the minus's attached to that, there are a hundred pluses.

I know that my moral gauge is higher than most and if you fail to reach it, there is nothing that you will ever do that will make me lower mine. If you lack integrity then mine will not be dipping to get in line. If you want me to react like a girl, I will react like a man. If you want me to tell you what you want to hear, you could be waiting a long time but if you want me to be honest about the way I see things, then you had better have a pretty comfy seat.

So in this sense I also know that I will never fear being just one in a long line of many women, I may well be one in a line but if there is one that will bug the hell out of you, then it will most certainly be me. If there is one person that will make you question how good you feel about something when you behave shabbily, that may well be me too. And if there was one person that told you that you were beautiful and meant it, that would probably be me too. If there was one woman that never said anything she didn't mean, it was me. If there is one person that may niggle away at you - guess who.

So it is equally in this sense that I know that despite the fact that I like the mind games, I like the hook - that I also know I am worth more. This is not good, it is not healthy and if I am going to get involved in cerebral foreplay it needs to be with someone who can perform. All I have done is feed a situation in which the chase and the tease become the existence and this, is the part that this person was always good at.

It saddens me immensely and I have been a fool. I don't think I was wrong and yet I cannot create a situation whereby someone can trust others. Life is dangerous, there is no real security in anything, I get that. However, that does not mean that you should spend your whole life running from the one thing you crave.

So I disappointingly resign myself to being a worm in the head. Such a waste, it could have been so much more, but I am no ones imaginary muse. ~I was definitely and whole heartily worth the next step.

And another clear observation. When someone cannot look someone in the face it is invariably because they do not feel comfortable doing so and almost certainly that their own behaviour makes them feel too bad to lock pupils. They cannot make eye contact because this would involve guilt and since they do not want to accept any responsibility, they cannot face you. So for anyone in my life that cannot look me in the eye - deal with your issues, life would be so much easier and happier.

And for those that can maintain the merest glimpse of eye contact, the eyes are a window to the soul. I never, ever say anything I do not mean.