General Joy and Advice for Single Men

Picture: continuing to show you the beautiful carcasses of Kare Kare.

Excellent life! On Friday Suzanne and I went to this unusual show at the Civic, something to do with Elephants in the title. We met up with Minnie and her friend Andrew, it was lovely to see Minnie looking so happy. We were late and so this nice old man sneaked us down the back passage (hee hee).
The show at the Civic:
(skip if reviews bore you)
We moved from room to room and aspects of technology and live performance were intertwined. I liked the pole dancing squid (amazing legs) and then this guy who talked about ghosts. The Ghost Guy had a black screen with a hole cut in it where a person with a sheet over their head in the style of a childish ghost appears. This ghost reads a long text about El Salvador and forests. It's boring, and I believe it was meant to be, as it sent me into this trance like state. While in this state, the guy applies white paint to parts of the screen with a roller, then goes back to project an image onto the painted parts of the screen. It shows us a body that can go with the ghost face, it's beautiful and the whole thing culminates in this incredible ghost dance with various ghost images and colours projected on the back wall. The music is relentless. It's a haunting. A relentless haunting; and I liked it.

I then caught up with a lovely friend for lunch in Kingsland yesterday, and in the evening Tieneke and I went to the hotpools, the run down 'Palm Springs' out at Parakai. Exactly what was needed, soothed my back beautifully. Got to get back into hot yoga, it was helping my neck and back immensely. And now to change the subject somewhat, but I think this might be useful. If I could save just one man from being unnecessarily unkind or dickish, it'll be worth it. I'm generous like that.

Advice For Single Men

If possible, be kind, have ideas about what to do or where to go, don't talk incessantly about the ex (and how great he/she was or what a bitch she was), and be honest as to whether you're wanting a casual encounter or might be open to more.

Be Kind:
One would think this is straight forward, but sometimes men (and women too of course) think it's smart or cool to be a little bit cruel. If you are in fact a little bit cruel, then by all means continue, but rest assured, it's obvious that you are deeply insecure and the facade will eventually fail you.

Just be kind. A woman (or man) worthy of loving will like it. A lot. If she doesn't, she's got stuff to work on, as we all do. What is kindness? You know, simple stuff like being really nice to her mum, or giving her a sincere compliment (this doesn't mean 'pwroawh, your tits look great in that you little minx').

Have Ideas: Are you the Man? I don't mean to be sexist here, but fuck, do I look like I have big old gonads in my pants? Actually don't answer that. Recently I had The Handsome Englishman continually expecting me to have all the ideas on where to go, what to do and then he asked if I could pick him up. Needless to say, if I did in fact have a dick, it would have shriveled up. So be bold, suggest coffee or an art gallery visit. I currently have a new Englishman on the 'oh goodie' list, and this one has ideas (and it doesn't hurt that he has great taste in music and books!).

Talking About The Ex Too Much:
I admit, I'm guilty of doing this. I only realised how fucking boring and annoying it was a few months ago when I had coffee with a man who told me in great detail about his ex and the gate. He and his ex wife were still living in the same house (selling it an issue or something). She has a new boyfriend, but he was a bit nervous about dating (and possibly explaining why he can't take you home, ha!). The story he told me was all about the gate, the rubbish bin, and the anger. This was our second date and I wanted to talk about Me.

I've probably talked too much about the weird and mentally disturbed aspects of past boyfriends ... and to clarify I do not mean Andrew. He's been a good one, fairly mentally stable actually.

But yeah, I've gone out with some pretty sad puppies before, and loved them very much. I don't want a sad puppy anymore. I'm ready for a happy man, or at least one attempting contentment.

Be Honest - but that doesn't mean Tactless!

If you're really wanting just sex, still be as kind as possible. Be charming, and if it's a one night stand, clarify that you're not looking for anything long term. Stay and hug awhile in the morning, she's not going to bite your dick off.
I don't like one night stands. They're just not satisfactory. I haven't had one in many years, the sex is usually low quality. Better off with Self Lovin'.

If you aren't good at oral, then sort it out. Women need the strength of Samson in the jaw in order to give good head, the least you can do is experiment with the movement of your tongue. Yes, it's ok to switch from fingers to tongue, we're not going to get all Nazi about it, but a boyfriend or lover who gets down on it with the greatest enthusiasm is a prize above all others! I've been very lucky in this department, possibly spoiled somewhat, but I understand that's not the case for all women.

There's a wee line between honesty and tact. I think it's clear, but evidently that's not so for everyone. I once knew a man who I thought I might have fallen in love with at first sight; we talked non-stop for nearly two hours. He appeared to have bared his soul to me. His girlfriend (whoops, surprise) arrived shortly afterwards. She was tall and willowy and looked like a fairy princess complete with strawberry blonde hair down to her small shapely buttocks. She had cancer.

A few weeks later at a party he told me they'd split up. Because he had a complete honestly policy with her, he told her on the drive back to his house that he had been wondering what I'd be like to fuck. For some reason this really upset her, and then he got annoyed with her because he was 'only being honest'. Shit man, the woman had cancer. She might not have felt strong enough to hear where you felt like sticking your dick that day, not if it wasn't in her. That folks, is the very definition of tactless.
You'll be glad to know I never did sleep with the man who was so cruel to his cancerous girlfriend. He didn't know he was tactless, that's what was incredible.

So yep, if you're going to do Internet Dating men, here are my top tips:

1) Do have a reasonable photo in which you are properly attired. Tieneke suggests no striped shirts, that they're done and dusted, making you look like an office worker from the early 90's going for after work drinks. I'm not so strict, I could forgive a striped shirt, but plain colours are preferable.

2) Photo Pose: do not stand to the side trying to show you don't have a fat gut. It looks vain and pathetic. Likewise, photos where you are lying back on a bed or pillow look dodgy. Pics without shirt, well, if you're hot and are looking only for sex then that's fine, I know to avoid you.

3) Lies: If you lie about your obesity, age or pretend to be more interesting than you are, a woman will detect this in about two seconds. Maybe less. Don't lie. Embroider the truth if you must (I've just started at the gym is a popular lie amongst the obese).

4) Point of Difference: Sporty? There are way too many sporty men on the dating site. They kite surf, do triathalons, run millions of kms a day, go cycling, surf, have wankathons and more! Stand out. If you can spell, like art and have a reasonable knowledge of music, then you're already leading in the point of difference stakes.

5) Your Nickname: There's a guy who calls himself CuteyCub. Makes you feel ill? Yes, me too. He's a goodlooking guy, but in one second he's shown himself to be a dorky vain dickhead who possibly wants to be coddled. You don't have to call yourself anything earth-shattering, but perhaps avoid things like Want2eatU (that's also a real one).

That darlings, is more than enough information for one day. Judge not lest ye be judged so it goes ... but gee it's hard not to judge.

Today: off to Matakana for a music festival, but first meeting up with Old Persistant Man for coffee! Oh the fun!

Secrets and Day Tripping

Guess what?


I have secrets. That no matter how much people think they know you, that no matter how many pictures you post or how explicit my blog appears to be ... I'm always keeping something for myself. Or I'll tell you face to face when we catch up for a coffee.

I've been having an amazing time lately. Excellent and ridiculously long holiday thanks to the fact that I haven't got another contract lined up yet. I'm way too relaxed about it.

On Thursday I went to Piha with a fine assortment of folk - Tieneke planned it. She invited friends to meet at Hardware cafe in Titirangi, then on to Piha, then to the RSA for dinner ... and then stop to look at the glow worms at the Pipeline walk on the way home.
It was a mind blowing day. Andrew came and remained a sober driver, as did lovely Dana, one of T's friends from Yoga school. Tim was also a yoga dude and really funny and charismatic, and T's friend Hip (I've mispelled it) also joined us.
We clambered over the hill to the left, and because no one was around Andrew and I felt fine getting nude for the swim. It just felt right. Tim later came to the same conclusion, and we enjoyed the feeling of nature, nature, nature!

I wasn't getting nude to be sexual, it was just nice.

What a stunner of a day. I wanted to run back around the rocks before the tide rose, but the others were too scared to and went back over the hill. I felt like some kind of amazing beach ninja and ran around with levels of nimbleness previously only seen when Jack jumped over the candle stick. Quick.

We reached the other side way ahead of the others and lay on the grass looking up at the brain clouds. It was really peaceful and I was filled with unreasonable levels of joy.

When all the others rejoined us we went on to the RSA. We were already a bit smashed, but managed to get through the pressed down atmosphere of the pub and onto the deck to sip our drinks.

Tim went walk about. There was a smattering of paranoia quickly overcome. On the way home we stopped and looked at the glow worms, but poor Andrew was incredibly tired and sick of babysitting me.

To bed and to slumber. What a slumber!

And i just keep having good times.

Friday had a third date with the Handsome Englishman, but he was starting to bore me. I realised I didn't want to kiss him. His mouth looked too hard, yet his behaviour was so passive. Where's the passion? Bring me the passionfruit! Ooh, speaking of which, I did have a good ice cream today. Delish.

Where's the time going?
How can it now be 10.35pm on Sunday? It's madness I tell you. A mere illusion!

I also caught up with Lou and her lovely man Johnny yesterday, and god, they are so fucking nice and cool, it's crazy! We talked about Duncan, and then guess what? I saw Duncan today when T and I were having coffee at Hardware!! Synchronicity plus. I wouldn't have recognised Dunc because I haven't seen him since we were 26 and he has since grown a beard and looks all MANLY!!!

I'm excited. Man I'm buzzing. Life is good.

Piha with Andrew, grooming ... and missing Korea!

January 18th 2012

Yesterday Andrew and I went out to Piha, it was warm enough to swim in the tidal pool after walking over the hill to the left of the beach. An easy and beautiful walk into Paradise. I feel like I'm really getting back to the contentment of my 'true self' which is a great relief.



I didn't say a lot about the depth of my recent depression in these blogs because I don't want to bring anyone down, but man, it was a right doozy. If you've ever been depressed (combined with our good friend Anxiety) then you'll understand how difficult it can be to get out of the hole. I'm outta the hole! Thank goddess!



So yeah, another amazing day at Piha. It's a place that never lets me down (that sounds like a sanitary napkin ad now, or was it a deodorant?). As much as Andrew enjoyed Europe he said it's definitely refreshed his appreciation of NZ.



Funnily enough, I'm missing Korea today. I wrote in my journal that I miss the predictable unpredictability of it ... and if you've ever lived in Korea you will know exactly what I mean. I looked at some photos from January 2011, the snow was thick and deep ...




Anyone who has actually lives there long term should just have WTF? tatooed on the inside of their palm, so that they can just hold it up silently whenever the next bit of shit goes down. I didn't get a smile from my school's caretaker until winter came and I helped shovel snow. Cracking the ice that had formed over the concrete was hard work, but it beat sitting in a freezing building waiting for someone to say something interesting on Facebook.

Andrew said he now realises that even though France does great cheese they can't compete when it comes to coffee, but that yes, people in Paris all look amazing and as if their clothes have all just come straight from the dry cleaners. Imagine the pressure! I spill crap down the front of myself on a regular basis, so reaching a Parisian standard of grooming would always be beyond me. However, the good thing is, I don't really care. I have days where I feel like looking immaculate (my version of it anyway) and other days where I don't care if I'm mistaken for a homeless person.




Well this was just a little bloggie, wanted to share with you how damn good it feels to be sane, still on holiday, and the sun it shining!

Today's star thought:
The Andromeda Galaxy colliding with the milky way ...

http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTdIE26VOjFCuM0rbIYn2rpWD3HYvTjhZUcMPbq4DW5lgUUFf-OpxXePXQJPg

Kare Kare: West Auckland slice of wild paradise!

Fantastic afternoon out at Kare Kare. It's not a place you'd want to go when feeling anxious or vulnerable, it's so open and windy. It was just what I wanted today ...
I felt completely soothed and had that 'alone but not alone' feeling.



I didn't go out till late this afternoon; the sun tried valiantly to shine and I had a sense of immense contentment as I took photos and soaked in the vastness of it all.


Also, I forgot to say in my last blog that Andrew is back from Europe! He got me a gorgeous necklace from Barcelona. Andrew is looking beautiful as ever, but we were good and didn't indulge in a romp because (shit, now why didn't we?) ... oh yeah, I'm keeping my energy clear in order to attract a man who wants to commit to me properly!



I'm a little sunblown and wind burnt .... my eyelids have that swollen feeling ...stoned on the sea. I have a few candles burning, Toscat sleeps, the house is quiet. Spoke with Lisa thismorning. She wanted to know what happened with 'Rose' and found it hard to believe that someone who has been my friend for 18 years doesn't yet 'get' me. But hey, we're all entitled to change or not change, to hold grudges if we want to, or to let go with love and an intention of forgiveness. I don't feel angry with Rose. I guess it's arrogant, but I just think it's her loss really.



Loss

The winds of Kare Kare will find your bones
bare
stripped of all your flesh
finally free
and flying

what loss is this
the coldest kiss
like a man who loves you in the morning
and meets another in the noon
we are all stumbling
from beach to bed
feathers and bone breaking in the seas of sorrow
but no
it is nothing
it was an absence
and there is nothing missing in you
nothing at all
you are whole
as ever
as always
and Kare Kare shows you the truth
with death
with wind
with water.

Candice.
x

Stars, The Handsome Englishman ... and Bikram Choudhry looks like a little pimp!

So I've decided I need to know more about stars. Not astrology darlings, but actual astronomy. The facts of it are far too poetic anyway. Sometimes you'll look up and clumsily try to remember what the hell is going on out there, so I'll try to provide some fun reminders:

"Since light travels at a finite speed, distant objects are seen as they existed in the past. We see the Sun not as it is now, but how it was eight minutes ago. (The Sun is eight light minutes away from the Earth). We see the nearby stars as they were several years ago. We see Andromeda, the nearest spiral galaxy as it was roughly 2.5 million years ago. Thus, the most distant objects that we see are the oldest objects that we can directly detect."
http://map.gsfc.nasa.gov/universe/rel_firstobjs.html

January 16th 2012:

Speaking of stars, one of the highlights in the last week would include another date with the handsome Englishman. We went to a comedy evening which we both enjoyed, though some of the humour relied on levels of crass that shocked even me.

Don't get me wrong, jokes that rely on sex or shit don't worry me in the least, but poking fun at the expense of Para-Olympians or the intellectually disabled seemed a bit desperate.

Although I feel rather besotted with the Handsome Englishman already, I'm continuing to talk with other men on the site. I've learned my lesson when it comes to putting all my eggs in one basket, though that hasn't been a problem on most other occasions in my life.

The men I've usually started to 'see' are only too happy to take my eggs, basket and anything else that comes with it! Becky said that emotionally unavailable people are always going to attract emotionally unavailable people. Maybe I need to trust that inner compass. I'm emotionally available, so someone who isn't won't stick around for long.

I imagine I've got some kind of Love Magnet in me, and it's going to repel someone who doesn't feel lovable or worthwhile. I can see it happened with The Painter, and even with Rose most recently. The person who can handle being well-loved will enjoy being with me. This can be said of all relationships, not just romance. Obviously we end up blaming ourselves instead of thanking our true inner magnet for attracting or repelling the situations that unfold. We are always creating our own world, giving things the meaning we choose to.


The Golden Rule, and Imagine if Someone Wanted You to Shit in their Mouth .... something that has never happened to me, thanks be to Jesus.

The Golden Rule states that we treat others as we wish to be treated ... but sometimes that's not true is it? Some folk need you to be aloof so that they can work hard to 'deserve' love. Some folk wanna be pissed on or whipped. It takes all sorts.

So what if you end up with someone who wants you to shit on them? If you agreed, what does that say about you? We could be talking about literal or metaphorical shit, but thinking literally is funnier. Imagine it.
"Darling, I feel we've reached a point in our relationship where I can finally tell you my greatest fantasy."
"Oh cool, what is it?"
"Well, you'd position your arse above my eager mouth and shit directly into it while I masturbate".
"Oh.I was kind of hoping I could just wear the nurses outfit and have you tie me up."

If you feel happy and excited about shitting into someone's mouth, then wow, it's a match made in Heaven. If you didn't feel too good about it but did it anyway, then you'd be diverting from your values and debasing yourself. You'd probably come to the conclusion that it wasn't going to work, no matter how much you loved them. Every sexual adventure would now be shit-tinged, the eyes of the beloved trained hungrily on your arsehole.

Gosh, that was a bit of a diversion, but it segues nicely into the next topic ...

Bikram, The Man.

Birkram Choudhry walks onstage. He is little, but stands a few cm higher thanks to the curious choice in footwear. They appear to be women's court shoes, the material shiny silver, almost holographic, complete with a stiff bow. They look like the sort of shoes a wealthy old Korean lady might wear.

In addition to the amazing choice in shoes is the over sized black, shiny suit complete with a red satin handkerchief in the top pocket. He is balding and yet still keeps his thin, frizzy, hair long, sort of like Michael Bolton used to do.

His shirt is also black, shiny and embossed with some kind of pattern. Possibly paisley. The tie is astonishing; also black, but encrusted with diamantes in a pattern the shape of a diamond. He's a tiny Magpie Pimp, and goes on to talk for far too long about himself and all that he's accomplished. He talks himself up at every turn, and although much of what he says is valuable, it's the stuff I already know. Does the man not realise that we're already sold? That if we're here, we're not here to find out if Bikram Yoga is any good, we're here because we're interested in the philosophy and spirituality behind it. We already know it's a good practice, but to hear Bikram blather on you'd think we were arguing with him about it's validity.

There is no argument. It's great yoga. You feel fantastic when you've completed a class. What's interesting is that Bikram himself is quite abrasive, crass, funny, pathetic, boring, amusing and arrogant. I should have saved my $75, only it is good to know it's contributed to the re-building of the Bikram centre in Christchurch (something he will of course benefit from).

He loves to name drop. Shirely Maclaine, actors from the past that we don't care about or even remember, President Nixon, both Bushes (and a joke about pubic hair that he thought was really funny), some actresses who supposedly killed themselves because he wouldn't fuck them. Really. I'm sure there might have been other reasons why you'd kill yourself, rejection from an arrogant little Yogi wouldn't be reason alone.

It's a classic case of Rock Star Genius. You know the ones. Some man or woman with talent ends up going a bit nutty with power and ego. The amount of self-praise and outlandish claims are just boring after awhile. I don't need to be convinced that this yoga is good, yet he would say (far too often)
"I don't have to prove anything! If you believe me good. If you don't, eat shit and die!"
Yes, that was his particular brand of charm. He swore, he boasted of how he'd fucked one woman and given her 42 orgasms, imitating the broken walk of this lucky lady after he'd done with her. He just seemed a bit of a dick really.

Despite all this he insisted that we hurt no-one, live well, care for our bodies and our souls. I liked how he pointed out that Jesus was a Yogi, and that as such, he had total control over his body and mind. This means Jesus didn't actually suffer when he died, as he had mastered the ability to shut down the organs in the body through meditation. This made it appear as though he'd died, but of course he hadn't. I think that's entirely plausible, and I enjoyed thinking of how different people wrote that Jesus suffered when in fact there was no suffering. He overcame death because he didn't die in the first place. Booya!

So yeah, the best thing about that talk was realising that even when someone looks like a little pimp, even when they talk about women in a way I find offensive, even when they wear a massive diamond watch that's the very last word in garish, they too have something valuable to contribute. Depsite his personality and obvious love of power and celebrity, Bikram has introduced a really effective Yoga practice that I enjoy. I just hope none of the instructors ask me what I thought of him.

Accidentally Stoned at Bikram Yoga, A good Date, More Dicky Internet Names and the End of A Friendship!

KNOW WHEN TO FOLD 'EM!



On Friday I visited a friend I’ll call Hal, went to Bikram Yoga and then sashayed into the evening for an internet date. At Hal’s I shared melon liqueur with tonic water, drank black coffee (no milk available) and ate icecream with chocolate sauce. This was before Hal even lit up a joint.

As you may or may not know, I can’t partake because I don’t really want to. Do you want me to move slowly, find it hard to speak and then fall asleep? If that was the goal, then that would be the drug for me! I politely declined, but of course must have accidentally inhaled during the course of breathing in the small living room space.

As a result, doing Yoga in a heated room ended up being very difficult indeed. I thought I was going to faint or vomit, or maybe both. Maybe I could vomit and then fall into it for good measure. I spent most of the class breathing deeply through my nose, lying flat on my back, sweating profusely. Fortunately the nausea and light headedness passed and I ended up feeling amazing. A few women in the changing room were really kind to me. One girl, stripped clean of any fat whatsoever, said she noticed I was completely grey at one point and was ready to perform first aid if necessary. Aw, how nice is that?

I showered and drank copious amounts of water, changed into my ‘innocent blue frock’ and turquoise shoes ready for my date. I was quite ready to meet with someone pleasant and boring and make the best of it, but he ended up being attractive with sparkling blue eyes and a ready smile. Yum.

He’s one of those people who gets better looking the more you look at them. I didn’t blurt out how much I liked his nose or anything, the way I might usually do when I fancy a man.

We’re seeing each other again next week. I was a bit more forthright than usual and he really appreciated it. I’m normally afraid of hurting people and tend to tip toe around a little bit, always trying to make sure I’m not misunderstood.

I told Lisa how I spoke to this lovely man and she said
“oh if he can take that then he doesn’t have a big ego. That’s good”

A man who is excessively egoic or too fragile won’t cope if you’re a bit full on, but the one who can take it is obviously not afraid to laugh at himself and at life.

Installment Two of Internet Dating Nicknames:

Today dear ones, I decided to search under nicknames using a simple formula. Who, I wondered, might nick name themselves something really stupid, like ‘dickhead’? Well, it turns out, more than you’d think. I would guess that many of these have been created as a joke ... but what if some of them were not? What then, would this mean? It would mean we have way too many dickheads in NZ.

Search 1: type in ‘dick’

These are my favourites.

Dickosaurus (32, Auckland): this is kind of cute actually. Least offensive.

Dickname (52, Auckland): his name is Dick and so he thought it would be really cutesy to play on that fact. He’s been given a lot of shit about Dick all his life, so now he’s going to play it like the Muppet in the episode where Kenny Rogers sings “the gambler”. Know when to fold ‘em Dick, know when to fold ‘em.

Dickwad (72, Auckland): this one is a joke. A man of 72 isn’t going to call himself Dickwad. But what if he did? What if it was a nasty, smelly, angry old man jerking off in his crusty old Y-fronts and telling people to fuck off?

Dickcheez (52, Nelson Bays): Likewise, I can’t see this being someone’s real profile. Why would someone admit to dick cheese?

The winner in the dick search is (cockin’ drum roll please):
DICK HOLE (Dunedin, 20): This could be a sad country song –

“I’m in Dunedin and I’m sad and lonely
lookin’ at my dick and wishin’ you’d phone me
You know I don’t love ya but I want ya to blow me

ohhhh, my dick hole, ohhhhh oh, my magic dick hole!
(imagine enthusiastic crowd joining in)

Sing it with me!

I asked you if you’d sit on it
but you want no part of the magic slit
cos it’s all clogged up with shit and grit

oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhh my magic dick hole!”

Sorry. That was uncalled for. It appears that my humour might fall under ‘horrible teenage boy’ category at times. So be it.

Search 2: ‘bum’

The only good one that came up was BUM CHUM (46, Wairarapa), and I’m glad it’s in capitals, because you know, the message may not have otherwise got through.

Search 3: ‘wank’

Wanky (28, Upper Hutt): Oh wanky, I’ve longed for this connection. As soon as I saw your dating nick name I felt this stirring in my heart and knew we were meant to be together.

Wankey (26, Otorahanga): So this is special – you wank, but it’s a key. You’re a clever young man. If only you were in Auckland!

Search 4: ‘lick’

Lick clit (24, Christchurch): Christchurch might be falling apart, but at least there’s a young man doing his part. Oh Lick Clit, you inspire me.

Lickmymince (24, Rotorua): Most intriguing! So, do you really have a plate of mince you’d like me to lick, or are your genitals so mutilated that they resemble mince? It’s quite confusing, I’d love to know more, but Rotorua is a long way to go. Tell you what, throw in a visit to the Polynesian Spa and maybe I’ll consider it.


Sunday 8th January

Ah, it’s still raining folks. Watched “Never Let Me Go” last night. Dark, depressing, sad and yet quite satisfying. I must be over my depression if I can watch something like that. I came to the conclusion that it was a clever way to demonstrate how people do not question the status quo, that the people who are cloned do not rise up and rebel against what is inhumane and disgusting because it’s ‘for the greater good’.

I also liked the simplicity in it – that we all need to have a reason to live, and to love and be loved. The value of life increases when you have to fight for it.

Speaking of value, I have a friendship of 18 years that has finally died. I had done a prayer of sorts awhile ago, asking for that which needed to die in my life to do so, so that new growth and goodness could come in. The following day, this friend, who I will call Rose, got annoyed with me about something trivial. She didn’t communicate properly about it, and it followed an old pattern in our friendship that I’ve become weary of.

Nothing I ever do or say reassures Rose; she’s always measuring the friendship, making mental (and literal) notes of anything I do ‘wrong’. Years ago she wrote a long letter to me listing all the things I’d done wrong in the previous year, attacking me and saying how selfish I was. Her timing was brilliant. I was recovering from the worst breakdown I’ve ever had or am likely to have in my life. The things on the list were bizarre, as if she’d been scratching around in an old barrel to find fault with me.
Things like ‘you didn’t light the candle for my birthday’, when she had told me she wasn’t sure she wanted me to even do it! When I pointed this out, she refused to even hear me out. She said that none of it had ever been misunderstandings, that I had purposely done these things to hurt her. Um, right, because that’s what I’m all about.

Most recently I’d asked if I could stay at her place for one night when I was in the midst of my lovely ‘surprise depression’. I needed a friend; I needed a change of scene. I was a mess.

She said no, that wouldn’t be possible until the new year (which was a few months away at the time). Instead I asked Lisa, and not only did she say yes, she treated me like a Queen. The contrast was glaring.

God knows, I did still try this time. I emailed saying I wanted to save the friendship but that she needs to take responsibility for her emotions. She wrote in an email that she won’t explain herself or take ‘all the blame’ and that the friendship was over. Blame for what? I don’t blame her. I think that once again, she’s imagined a rejection coming from me because she rejects herself. This has nothing to do with me. She’s imagining all sorts of hurt where none exists, because she needs to be a victim, to play a role she’s comfortable with. And no, she doesn’t read my blog, never has.

Farewell Rose. It was a pretty wonderful friendship, but a lot depended on how willing I was to play the part you assigned me. I don’t need it anymore, but I will always hold love in my heart for you. It would have been great if you’d had the courage to admit you over reacted, the courage to be the strong one in the friendship for once.

Life is too wonderful to spend time trying to prove to someone that they are lovable. You can never assure someone else enough. You can’t debase yourself enough. You can say sorry when you’ve done nothing wrong, but again, it will never fill the hole inside them. You have to let them go with love and hope they find their way. I feel good. I know I have been a fucking awesome friend and given absolutely everything I could, but I can’t sacrifice my soul. That’s asking just a little too much.

Instead, I have time for friends who allow me my humanity, who are willing to talk about it if they feel hurt, and I do the same. Otherwise you end up shutting everyone out, suspicious and fragile, willing to judge others and make them guilty.

Here’s to love. x

Cheap Amusement: what men nickname themselves on net dating

Photo: another of the new year selection. But let's not think about that joyful time, let's talk about what men call themselves on internet dating!

Yes, this is what it has currently come to. I am now compiling a list of the 'nick names' that I find most annoying. Ok, I'm not saying my own internet nick name is brilliant. It's not, and no, I'm not telling you what it is. But it's not Sunny or Fun Times or Smiley Girl 70, so you can rest easy.

This may well be an on-going hobby. So here are the ones I looked at today that really caught my eye, and for all the wrong reasons. Attempting to list from least annoying to most offensive or irritating. I'm going to be mean ok? These are not men who approached me, they're just a sample of the names you can snigger at if you have a bit of time to kill.


Heywotsup: Wots up is this: you're a bit boring.

Nick Breaker: Ok Nick, we get it. Sounds like 'neck breaker', and that, obviously, is what we gals are looking for. Someone to snap our necks like a twig. I can't fucking wait.

live2themaximum: are you twelve? Are you like, totally rad, living life to the max? Just annoying.

WhatIF??? : Ok, there's nothing wrong with what if? But the way this is written, it looks like you're try to say whatIFUCK. Maybe that's the secret message. Maybe I just have a filthy mind. Dunno. But you're holding a fish up to your face and smiling, so maybe I'm just incredibly insightful. The fish represents all the pussy you'd like to be getting. You don't mind if it's fishy, that's ok. So you're working the ladies with a subliminal message WhatIFUCK is fish. Good one.

badboymatty73: Am I supposed to tame you? Will you cheat on me and spend all my grocery money on your latest fix? Ooh you sound sooooooooo bad and exciting, cos you're appealing to women who 'like bad boys'. Dick.

A-Positive: This is a bit too blood orientated. Immediately makes me think of H.I.V. which makes me feel a bit sad. You sadden me A-Positive, and this is no way into my heart. Not at first anyway.

cheeseman69: ok, so he likes cheese, or is it something sinister, like the state of his genitals? Coupling 'cheese' and '69' in the same breath isn't a good idea.

SINGLE4EVER: Well ok then. Is it meant to be a challenge? Are you playing hard to get? Not working. You sound like a frightened little boy wetting his pants. Oh no photo. Wait. Sorry, you are probably very ugly and will actually be single forever. Now you've bummed me out.

completeasshole: this is the name a really clean cut douche bag gave himself. Once again, he thinks he'll get the edge by being so, so funny! What he doesn't realise is that often people reveal the greatest truths in jest. As my mum always says "if someone tells you they're an asshole, believe them."

gspotty: this is today's winner
Gee gspotty, even though you're at least fifty, I'm impressed that you finally know where the g-spot is and so cleverly incorporated it into your nick name. You're such a fun guy! I'd love to COME all the way to Hawke's bay to meet you and see that you've no doubt listed your age and height with a few minor adjustments.

Yes, so you see, many minutes of free amusement can be had just looking at what people call themselves. I suppose I could start calling myself douchebagfun! and I'd get an amazing response. But I'll hold off for now.

So it's 2012! Love and acceptance rock my ass.

Happy New One!!! You survived or thrived. Well done.




New Year's was exactly what I wanted: low key, good company, lots of laughter. Went to Lou and Johnny's in Devonport (feels like I've slipped into Lou's life like a cat). Lou lives next door to her parents in an amazing old villa, and she and Johnny make you feel so welcome, they are so easy to be with.



I also got to meet Eliza, a charming quirky bird, long limbed and elfin. I told them about my new year ritual, and the girls were keen to perform it - the writing of what must be burnt and let go, the invoking of a wave of positive intention. Very witchy pooh.

New year striking was kind of funny; we jumped in the car at the last minute and were all yelling various instructions as to what to do, where to go, why, why not, oh my god look at all the fucking losers gathered in Devonport! We ended up somewhere opposite Devonport food town staring up at the Sky Tower; shrouded in forboding grey clouds it was pronounced "mushroom cloud apocalyptic". Becky was disgusted.
"Well that was fucking pathetic!"
Yeah. Fucking clouds. How could they? Then we started to think of how funny it was that all these people had probably waited for ages to see all these fireworks, waited with their little necks craning upwards, sunflowers searching for an elusive sun. Eliza was concerned that we might have all hugged prematurely for new year, and for some reason this struck all of us as really funny. "Don't go giving away hugs if you don't need to" taunted Becky with her classic laugh.

It was then onto the beach to do the old year/new year ritual. Lou was coughing deep in her chest. The wind was blowing hard, and what was first exhilarating soon became a bit cold and uncomfortable, sending us running back towards the shelter of a large tree. I put my hand on a slug. Eliza screamed when a small shrubby sprung out from the base of the tree. She said it looked like a possum. I admit, I saw it too. The possum shrub. It lay in wait for that moment.

We all kept laughing at anything and everything and we weren't even intoxicated. I guess we all just got high off being around each other - around other people who are mad, ridiculous, loving and bold. I love that. I need that.

We went to the other side, over by some Navy Museum (where the girls burnt up the list of things to let go off with manic enthusiasm), where it was sheltered. I instructed the girls on what to do to let go of past shit and embrace this new wave, to yell out 'I feel different!' and such.

Johnny smiled and tolerantly waited in the car. Lou was losing strength, coughing like an old man on the street. We all ended up somewhat thrilled though, our feet doused in the ocean, the current pulling away any guilt, sorrow or self doubt contained in 2011. Ha, I can imagine Lou saying that in a sarcastic way "oh, it was thrilling!".



But you know, it was thrilling. To be with good people who 'get' you. To not have to be anything more or less than exactly what and who you are. To share your hopes for the new year.

I have an old friendship that appears to be dying off, yet as it's done so, these other connections have sparked back up. Here's the phoenix. Who'd have thought a spark remained in ashes for so long? As for the old friendship - it would be lovely if she came through, but I'm not going to bend over backwards and eat shit for anyone anymore. That's over. O.k, exaggeration. I might bend over backwards and very occasionally eat shit if you are sometimes willing to do the same for me.

Now, if you see me, remind me I am not allowed to do charity work on the internet dating site. I am such a knob sometimes. Oh, and thanks to a certain friend, we now know why you call someone a 'knob' or 'nob' as an insult. I imagine it's derived from 'snob'. Imagine is all, I haven't researched it. The other would be that there really are men who have very short, thick penises that actually do resemble door-knobs.So calling someone a door knob style cock isn't very pleasant is it?

Anyway, what I'm meaning to ask is that you remind me not to do charity work on net dating. For example, I've continued talking to this guy on the dating site who is possibly intellectually disabled or extremely Aspergers ... or he's taking the piss.
I want to help him. I want to give him advice on how to talk to people, that if you like a woman you might want to ask her a few questions before asking if she'll sit on your face (and he wrote LOL). Yeah, when I put it like that, I think I might have to leave the educating to someone else. Curse of the teacher. My burden: to want to educate every fuck wit that crosses my path! Ha ha!!

Well, we're all just doing the best we can aren't we? Fuckwits and nobs, bitches and dogs, saints and sweethearts all.

Love and light. xxx