Breakfast

I love breakfasts! They would have to be my most favourite gathering of the day. I know you are probably thinking that in terms of food, breakfasts aren't altogether exciting.

It's the mornings I love, that just-woken-up feeling, shared with people who you must think love you enough for you to confidently show your face so early in the day.

Eggs are a must, some sort of bread, a vegetable, coffee, tea, juice and whatever else you want to see on your plate. Ooo! I also love smoked salmon, spinach and cream cheese on a bagel! I love croissants with ham, avocado and Swiss cheese. Omlettes are fun and delicious and can be filled with whatever you have left in the fridge, last night's roast even!

Most people say they can't eat when they wake up, it must be what they are eating. Be adventurous! Try something new! Hell, I only started getting into oats. That's right. Oats are very healthy and considered as boring, especially with the way I have them; with water, zapped in the microwave. Mmm... Warm AND healthy! But to me they are yum and wake me up.

I am sure there are many of you out there that are simply not morning people. Shame on you! Mornings are the best time of the day. Waking up and going somewhere to do something! Trust me, if you had nice breakfasts everyday you would bound out of bed in happiness, embracing the beautiful day!

I have a breakfast tomorrow that I am looking forward to at John Street Cafe in Cottesloe! I am meeting Kate for a coffee and a private chat half an hour before the rest of them come to celebrate Michelle's birthday. Now, I have to try and decide what to order...
...to go with the sparkling Shiraz!

Death

Death is a good thing. It brings people together. It renews you, gives you a lust for the life you have. Death makes you pick up the phone, send that message to say, 'I am thinking of you'. It magnifies beauty, to bask in the warmth of the sun and to gulp the frosty air. It makes time unimportant, relieves stress, makes you forget your worries. Death creates peace in the turmoil of your soul.

On Ice

After 15 years on non-slip luxury and the safety of substance underneath my feet, my friend decided she wanted to tick another assignment off her never-ending list of things to do before she dies.

So after sailing in the relentless hot sun without a stir of breeze, I had to quickly shower off the layers of sweat and sunscreen, make myself look half decent and then start squeezing into jeans, sweaters and jacket without forgetting my mittens and pom pom beanie. Yep, we were going ice-skating!

My friend did her reserach and Perth is lucky enough to have 3 ice skating rinks *sarcasm* We have two within a couple of kilometres of one another, where my friend lives and one about 40 minutes South. Of course she chose the one South. Her reasoning? Cockburn Ice Arena has Saturday disco night!

When we got there we thought it was closed. We could hear the faint sound of music but could not see through the screens covering the windows. We opened the door to be greeted by a blast of crisp cold air, the smell of the ice and the rubber, and music that makes you want to jump and dance. We were excited!

After getting our skates from an American sounding boy, who I am pretty sure got the job for authenticity, we went up to the bleachers and donned our big plastic skates and gingerly walked down the steps to put blade to ice. Oh, the adrenalin and fear of losing control!

After two laps around the arena, we were pros! It was exhilarating! It was invigorating! I felt free!

Meanwhile I had big burly boys skating around, behind and in front of me, wooshing and spraying ice and doing all sorts of tricks to take me off guard. I had teeny girls doing spins and graceful one-legged poses with arms in the air. It got me motivated to try out a few of my own not-yet-discovered tricks. So off to the middle of the rink to try and go backwards, whoops! Around, woah! And on one leg, eek!

After a couple of hours with a lighter heart, runny nose and a big smile we left the arena with a promise to come back within the next 15 years of our lives.

Hearts Entwined

With every breath he becomes more mine

As our love develops like the finest wine

Asleep and awake

Together through fate

We live each day with our hearts entwined

Hard bits of Life

Ah! The ups and downs of a million!

The moments that create dissension

Becoming so consumed with such petty annoyances

When so many are far worse off than us

Damn those dilemmas arising from passion!

How do we tell ourselves in those small moments of misery that we should be grateful when all we feel is despair? That we just need to live through the day because tomorrow will be better, won’t it?

It is hard when you are overwhelmed with life. You tell yourself that it will pass, that you need to handle stress better, that you are not to worry.  Yeah right. Easier said than done.

My BBQ

They all came!

I am stting in the DJ room, yeah you heard right, the DJ room! It has speakers and turn tables and a mixer and a couple of hunky looking DJ boys playing DJ music. AND it has mirror balls and disco lights!

I just had my first BBQ and pretty much everyone came! I would call it a success for me as I was having such a bad year (I know, one month. Shh!) and my Chinese Horoscope said something along the lines of, 'Go into my chicken coop and come out in 2013.' It was going that way. Now, I don't like to be negative or to ponder on the bad things but I swear everything that could go wrong did go wrong! My $5600 tax bill, missing trains and buses by a second and digging up a past I wish to forget.

I was surprised to see that the people who came to my BBQ were those I wanted to be my bridesmaids! My sister and one of my best friends didn't come, but the other four did. Not that I am in a hurry to get married, though I have thought about it in the past. It was exquisite, my BBQ! To be able to have a party and to play host!  

Get Rid of the Junk!

Ever seen that movie 'Up in the Air'? The one where George Clooney gets paid to fire people and he also gives those 'inspirational talks' on how to minimise 'baggage' in order to lead a satisfying life?
This is what he says:

Now this is going to be a little difficult, so stay with me.

How much does your life weigh? Imagine for a second you are carrying a backpack. I want you to pack it with all the stuff you have in your life and start with the little things the shelves, the drawers, the nicknacks: then start adding larger stuff, clothes, tabletop appliances, lamps, your TV – backpack should be getting pretty heavy now – and you go bigger. Your couch, your car, your home – I want you to stuff it all into that backpack.

Now I want you to fill it with people. Start with casual acquaintances, friends of friends, folks around the office, and then you move to the people that you trust with your most intimate secrets, your brothers and sisters, your children, parents, and finally your husband, wife, your boyfriend, your girlfriend – and get ‘em into that backpack – feel the weight of that bag.

Make no mistake; your relationships are your heaviest components in your life. all those negotiations and arguments and secrets are compromising. The slower we move, the faster we die. Make no mistake, moving is living. Some animals were meant to carry each other to live, symbiotically over a lifetime, star-crossed lovers, monogamous swans - we are not swans, we are sharks.

I am using this speech to move on with my life, to get ahead, to stop feeling so overwhelmed and pressured. So first I begin with minimising my belongings. I don't own much, lucky me, I have the clothes and the shoes that I wear, I have my puppy, I have my car and I have all of that other junk I haven't looked at in years.

Since moving I have rid myself of the material weight. I have donated bags and bags of clothes and shoes. I am selling my furniture bit by bit and I am about to tackle the junk. Birthday cards, Christmas cards, love letters, photographs, sentimental items. What is one supposed to do with these things?! It is depressing enough just thinking of having to look at this stuff. Someone suggested to have a big bonfire, chuck it all in there.

What about the weight of relationships? What am I supposed to do in that regard? When it comes to my family, I am the one who carries the burden of knowledge, I am the one who takes on that role as the counsellor, the manager, the umpire. It is hard and it is heavy. Why do I do it? For love. I love them. They are my family. If I ceased to be who I am to them then I fear we will be nothing. I won't have a family. It already borders on the brink of extinction and I don't like it, I won't have it.

So the best I can do, it seems, is to start with the material things and see where I go from there.    

New Home

Wow. The last few weeks have been a rollercoaster ride for me.

Not only I have had to adjust to my new abode but I have also had to surrender my former room at my mother’s house. Mind you, most of my life long belonging’s are piled on my poor father’s bed. Lucky for him, and me, he is working away at the moment. The poor man would have had the scant edge of his bed to sleep in.

Since moving into my boyfriend’s house I have been a bit lost and wandering, not quite knowing where I belong or what I am meant to be doing. I guess I was sort of the same at my mother’s house but found a routine where I came home, made myself dinner, showered and then went to bed and read for a couple of hours, woke up and went to work. This was when I was actually did make it home. At this new place I have way too many options. I mean, I have people who I can talk to, a working kitchen with the oven door still intact, a backyard, not a jungle full of spiders and strange creatures. And I have a boyfriend to entertain myself with!

I find that a lot of women my age enjoy solitary time, their own space, quiet, nothing to stir up their energy. I have always had this but not necessarily wanted it and now, I guess, I can get bits and pieces here and there but don’t really know what to do with it. Have a bath, go on the internet, go for a walk, chat to the dog, do the laundry, sort out my wardrobe. I am turning into a homebody!

New Friends

It is difficult, as you get older, to establish new friendships.

In my 30’s I find that I only seem to be making friends with women who are at least a decade younger than me. And even though it makes me feel youthful, it is actually quite hard to maintain these friendships. Why? I guess because a lot of them feel as they need to be doing something, or saying something or moving or complaining, or flirting with your boyfriend, anything that disrupts the potential for a good time. Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderful friend who is 22 years old and we can just go for lunch and talk about work and life. I think that she is an exception because she is socially aware or, maybe, being a single mother, she hasn’t got time to put up with bullshit.

Or, I seem to make friends who have a hefty repitoire of personal problems who require much of my time and cause worry and mental anguish. I don't like using this term but most call these people toxic friends. Through these bouts of friendships I was on edge waiting for their upset phone calls, always attentive to their needs, helping them, trying so hard to make them happy, and getting absolutely nowhere. It turned me into a depressed zombie with an aching heart. I was desperately unhappy and anxious. I started to cringe when I saw their name come up on my phone, I didn't sleep because I was thinking of things to say or do to help them, I had fights with my boyfriend because, couldn't he see, I was spending all of his time trying to help people?! In the end I had to say goodbye because it consumed me to the point where I had no life but theirs.

During the last couple of years I have tried to make some female friends, not quite succeeding due to matters that I addressed earlier. But last week I met a tourist from Switzerland through a friend of a friend of my Facebook friend. It was funny really. She is also in her 30s, yippee! And had been travelling around Australia for the last month with her father. We hit it off straight away. She was switched on, quite at ease and completely open. It didn't take long, as she had to go home after a week, but we formed a close bond and are now friends for life.

I guess it takes a lot of searching, or a lot of luck, but I am really glad I got to meet her!

Intuition or Paranoia?

I think that, as a woman, we often question ourselves as to how blurred the edges are due to contributing factors such as hormones, sleep deprivation, family problems and other things that could affect our well-being and mental health. But, I would like to know what people mean when they talk about a woman’s intuition? Do women have better intuition than men? Because the way I see it, women think way too much which results in confusing and often irrational ideas.

My friend had a relationship with this man who came across as an honest and good person, a little quiet, though very polite and open. One night after they had had sex and were falling asleep, she had a sudden sense that something was amiss. She said it was a feeling that was out of the blue and rocked her core. I never heard her once say anything negative about him. She always said that he was open and honest with her. She did the outrageous and the inexcusable, she checked  his phone while he was sleeping. Now, I know what most of you will be thinking, that there ended up being no substance to her feeling, and that her behaviour was a teeny bit obsessive. But I assure you it ended up being vital that she did or else she wouldn’t have found out about the handful of women he was dating behind her back.

I have had these bouts of ‘intuition’ where I have felt that my partner is hiding something from me. It is an awful thing to go through and I always wonder what is wrong with me as it makes me feel insecure and paranoid. When I get like this I have to ask myself whether my thoughts are plausible. I work through every reason, every effect and every God damn excuse as to why I shouldn’t be feeling this way. It is consuming and, quite frankly, quite depressing. I do think that people should learn not to jump to conclusions and to certainly not accuse or throw out the question of, ‘Are you seeing someone else?’ Because there are two inevitable consequences from asking this which are:

1. They will blatantly lie to you and say they aren't seeing anyone else. 

Or

2. They will get angry and make you feel like the smallest person on the planet.

I wonder if this stems from being cheated on in the past? There was one incident where I had this type of ‘intuition’ long before the missed phone calls, the vague mentions of his whereabouts, the lack of eye contact, the one-sided conversations during dinners out and the overall lack of effort for which I blamed on the length of the relationship, that only being 6 months. What was I thinking? The last straw was when he stood me up after stating he was with his family and too drunk to drive. Imagine me, beautiful make up, hair done and dressed to kill. Killed that relationship. Lucky I had that intuition, that sneaking suspicion, or else I would have been a mess. Expect the unexpected, I say. 

I don’t want to sound like a pessimistic feminist but I will maintain one thing. Trust your gut and, even if you don’t do anything about it, store the memory because the truth will come out in the end.