Internet gems: Yep, copied and pasted ... couldn't resist.

	Allow me to share this weeks INTERNET DATING GEMS! Names have been changed to protect the guilty. I have copied and pasted ... First up, "Not a God!" I did not get back to this guy for one day and he went a bit bannanas ... Not a God .. 11:39 pm Sun 2 Oct 2011:
		Its funny, when u trust people on this website and forward your details because you think that people are real, but then there is never a response, truly speaking because people are not real on here, you are not the first, i am straight up and my observation here on these dating website is if you are here then you are hiding something, only 2 reasons to be here.. Hiding something or too engrossed in work to find a partner or a friend. Well mainly its the first half most of the time. Not a god but i understand a bit about Human science... Me: 11:45 pm Sun 2 Oct 2011: Er, I've been really busy, I have work commitments, other dates, friends and family to catch up with too. I like finding out if I have enough in common over a few conversations and also prefer to be asked out for a coffee rather than given someone's number. I generally don't call men. I did not ask you to forward your details. I feel the world is a mirror of your own issues, and if you think all those things then perhaps you need to look more at your own issues regarding trust. It seems like you are quite bitter which creates a negative energy which will repel people. I do wish you well, but now I have no interest in meeting you at all. Not a God (obviously).. 12:04 am Mon 3 Oct 2011: Thanks for showing me the mirror, honestly i'll say only few things, you don't have to agree but just the thoughts( I saw the mirror so i thought i'll brag about it). If some one is really busy they don't check their account as they don't have time. Secondly no one shady gives their number on this website, thirdly people who are looking for relationship or even friendship have courage to face the person in person. As for giving number, all i can say is i would rather see and meet a person then to be recieving emails for ever and then with the number depending on what u think you could have asked me to come for a coffee. My number was not at all an invitation to my bed, that was just to contact me. Trust me i am well settled, good looking and i am not here for trash. Unfortunately thats what you thought about youself so i am sorry , please don't ever bother to call me or even write to me. You are not what i thought of you. Me: You are a fucking dick. Well, the thing is, not sure if he got my last words as I blocked him after that. Not mature of me at all. Ugh. Didn't think it was 'an invitation into his bed'. I just prefer to give out my number when asked for it, or when asked out. Pretty simple really. But thanks be to the great wisdom of the Universe for showing me what a dick he was so that I didn't have to meet him 'in person'. I've not struck such full on weirdness before, then got all this in one week. Got paranoid and took off heaps of my photos just in case insane men were sitting at the computer having a wank. (The sane ones can go for it). Internet Dating Gem Number Two! "The Reptile" Now this little beauty listed David Icke as someone he had read. The following excerpt is from Wiki, it's common knowledge that Icke has some pretty extreme ideas ... At the heart of his theories lies the idea that the world is becoming a global fascist state, that a secret group of reptilian humanoids called the Babylonian Brotherhood controls humanity, and that many prominent figures are reptilian, including George W. Bush, Queen Elizabeth II, Kris Kristofferson, and Boxcar Willie.[3] ( Because The Reptile had also listed some other really interesting things, I was interested in his thoughts and so initiated contact ... Me: 6:45 pm Sat 1 Oct 2011: Spotted any lizard people lately? The Reptile* 11:22 pm Sat 1 Oct 2011: what in Gods name are you talking about? you freak Me: 11:17 pm Sun 2 Oct 2011: wow, for someone who follows David Icke I thought you might get the joke, but obviously not. Charming man I guess you are not, how incredibly rude you are. Me: 11:25 pm Sun 2 Oct 2011: Rude and don't even remember what you have on your profile, so obviously not exactly sharp. The Reptile* 8:38 am Mon 3 Oct 2011: all that new age rubbish certainly made a man out of you...judging by your picture. ha! Didn't really feel I needed to dignify that one with a reply. Reported him to the community watch on the dating site. I guess he just made that stuff up to sound like he was interesting, then forgot he wrote it down? So weird! This is a 45 year old man we're talking about here. It's truly amazing. I should thank him for giving me such good material really. But wait beloved ones, there's one more ... but at least this one wasn't outright mean. Just strangely controlling? Judge not lest ye be judged, but by all means have a good laugh. This one we'll call Control Man Control Man asked what I did over the weekend. I told him and mentioned I'd had a coffee date among other things (family, friends etc). Here we go: Control man 5:38 pm Sat 1 Oct 2011: hmmmmmmm...you had a date and you are talking to me so that ws not good the date i mean.. how was quiet..but nice....am off for some lunch...curry..i love it... then i am free...you have any plans...wild woman hair which i like lots.. D..:) Goddesslove 6:41 pm Sat 1 Oct 2011: Ha ha, well _________, one date does not a decision make! Brrr, it's getting a bit cold and I've decided to have a lovely night in for a change. Feeling really good. Just as well you like wild woman hair ... I just don't have the will to straighten it the way most women would! I don't need that much control over things! :) Control man 6:47 pm Sat 1 Oct 2011: ok.......a birds nest is ok...... do i not bother chatting as you have a bloke around...? D... Me: 11:24 pm Sun 2 Oct 2011: Ha ha, looks like a birds nest today (you'd love it). Just because I had a nice date doesn't mean I stop dating, that doesn't make sense. I stop dating once I know it's going to be a relationship! :) Oh, and when I say dating, I mean just getting to know someone, finding out if there's compatibility etc. So keep chatting. Control Man (or maybe just a bit slow man) 1:20 am Mon 3 Oct 2011: ummm..no sorry if you had a nice date and your not ok with that in my view you need to yes of no to that....... in other words if you like him then you go with him.... if i meet you and i like you i will go with you...not...oh i will chat to you nd look for another..whuck that... i met a girl in the weekend who i think is noice...but we didnt have time to talk as she brought her sick daughter...when we do i will see..and if not ...see ya..and if yip..off here... this is how i do things...so good luck flossy...wild woman hair is neat when she is on top of me and her hair is in my face while she has her pleasure with me.... i miss that..... Me: 8:26 am Mon 3 Oct 2011: Goodness me! And so friends, I will let you make of it what you will. Wild woman hair is neat when she is on top of me ... um ... ok. Neat. Neato. Yay. How bizzarre. I never said I was going to see the person I had coffee with again. All I said was that he was nice. As in pleasant. Not putting my hair in his face and having my pleasure at this stage of the the proceedings. That's for an actual RELATIONSHIP you fucking nong. Not something you decide over the first cup of coffee. Ah well, thanks be to the Universe, these guys have shown me who they were really really quickly! I didn't even have to have coffee with any of them let alone shake my wild woman hair in their misogynist faces. Poor loves, must be hard to be that much of a dick really. My compassion flows like budget milk (which is exactly the same as the other milk, it's all just packaged differently, but you knew that). Wish me luck my loves. Maybe speed dating is next?

Music, friends, Resolution with Simon, Hypnotherapy ...

Things I can Tell You ....

There are so many things I cannot tell you. Here is where I choose what to reveal, where I can create a self for you to share, but it isn't the entire picture.

What I can tell you is that last Friday I saw Simon (yes, the one I was always pining over when I was in Korea. Called him Wylie after the coyote), on Saturday I went to Golden Dawn with Otis (aquintance of old) and saw Bear cat and Petersburg play, and on Sunday ... I think I met a man for coffee (last weekend seems so long ago).

The Simon Resolution was so long overdue. For some reason I could never quite let go. I would try to, but I could never seem to get angry or feel horribly slighted by his neglect. I wanted to be annoyed. God knows friends were on my behalf.

It was time to see him again and figure out what it was that was still haunting me. He is of course, an entirely different kind of man than what I'd ever normally go for. He was so overtly masculine, so 'New Zealand' that he boarded on sounding Australian at times. It was biological, chemical, addictive.

Seeing him again, I tried to focus on anything annoying about him that I could, but really, I just felt comfortable with him. Felt like I knew him, that even after a year and a half it's as if we could have just picked up where we left off.

It wasn't tempting to be his beck and call girl again. I think I wanted him to front up, to say "yes, I am sorting out my shit, and when it's properly dealt with I can see you", but of course that did not happen.

When I went to see the hypnotherapist on Tuesday I focused on removing any blocks to creating a positive, loving and committed relationship. She used muscle testing as part of the process to find out what was going on subconsciously.

I explained how I had this unreasonable love for him. That even though his past behaviour had been unkind I couldn't seem to muster real annoyance about it. I didn't want to say unconditional love, but I knew that's what it was.

I told her how I thought I'd been Simon's mother in a past life, so she addressed this and found that I wasn't his mother, but that I have had four past lives with him, one of them as his wife. She didn't dwell on this with me. Didn't indulge me in wallowing in past life experiences, even though I would love to have known more.

She kept me on track for looking at what I do want, clearing out old connections that were draining me. It's as if the attachment has been cleared out at the deeper level, but like a corpse that still moves after a person has died, it makes it seem as though there's still a little bit of life left. I really liked her energy and am hoping that the work we did together will affect my feelings and choices in the weeks to come. If it's all good, then I will be recommending her, so watch this space!

I'm tired; a lot of mental energy expended at work this week and a slight change in hours. One of my students is so full on, always swearing, aggressive, something to prove. He's a man in his fifties, but he behaves like the arrogant 14 year old school boy who wants to make his friends laugh and try to break the teacher down. Think I dealt with it ok in the end, but it was pretty challenging.

Saturday at Golden Dawn was lovely, good to see Otis and have a drink in the darkly glamorous bar that was once Open Late Cafe. The best thing about Open Late Cafe was that it was open late. The coffees were distinctly average. Golden Dawn is a great bar and venue for bands, the staff are so friendly that at first you wonder if they might suddenly hug you or give you a kiss. I like that. A lot.

The bands bravely playing on a night dominated by rugby were BearCat and Petersburg.

Bearcat (see pic) were cutesy wootsy pie, fantastic live, but disapointingly the CD I bought for $15 was solely dedicated to pandas. Not one or two songs about pandas, but an entire album. I told someone (was it Otis?) and he pondered if perhaps the band are 'furries', getting off on dressing up as animals. Dunno about that, but they all wear little animal themed capes when they play. Not furry ones though.

Lots of animal themes in the live lineup too, perhaps they all work for Save Animals From Exploitation and wear shoes made out of rubber? I used to have a boyfriend who worked for S.A.F.E. He broke up with me because I wasn't spiritual enough, but if spiritual enough includes not killing the fleas in your mattress "because they only drink a little bit of blood" then I'm all for my strangely non-spiritual (but clean) ways. He was also the kind of guy who picked up other people's ciggie butts off the ground and smoked 'em. Yep, and I kissed that mouth.

The bearded male singer in Bearcat sounds like he's modelled his style on Gordon Gano (Violent Femmes) and the girls sound very very sweet. You can imagine them sitting around together

"Let's do an ENTIRE album about PANDAS!"

"Yes, that's a brilliant idea, we're so crazy and full of love!"

"God I love your beard, it makes me think of pandas"

"God I love your glossy hair, it makes me think of cats"

"Let's make love in our capes".

"Ok!"

Whatever the case, I would see them again live, I just wont' be replaying the panda album again any time soon. Pretty tunes though, no denying that.

Next up were Petersburg, a chirpy eight piece girl band all wearing overalls. I think the 90's are back! They were good, melodic, but just not really my cup of tea. I liked watching the girls dynamic though, as one of them was a good dancer and completely stole the limelight even when one of the other girls was singing the lead.

I wonder if they ended up fancying the same guys ..."Oh come and see my band play ..."

And then he comes and sees the band play and decides he fancies the girl with the trombone. I think it was a trombone.

"You girls are so cool the way you wear those jumpsuits"

"Oh, ha, well we didn't want to play up to the stereotypes associated with women in rock n roll"

"Yeah, yeah of course ..." he glances at the jumpsuit zip.

"I mean, not that we're really that rock n roll, more brass and stroll ... ha ha!"

Enough of my made up scenarios, it's time to ly down and sleep. Friday soothe me. Let the weekend weather shine.

Love to you all xxx

Letter to Marc Hitchcock and date with The Wanker!

Tuesday 20th September 2011

Hi Marc

I don't know who you'd be now. You're far away in time and death, but I'm still here on Earth. Can you believe I'm 40? What would you be doing now, if you'd lived to be 40? Would you have come right out of the closet and found a way to be happy?

How was suicide anyway? Have you reincarnated? I think you probably have.

If you hadn't gassed yourself in your car a week before your 17th birthday, I reckon you would've become a really good barista, travelled the world, fucked lots of hot guys in bathrooms after doing some coke, narrowly missed getting HIV, returned to New Zealand and met a nice graphic designer and settled down with a dog. Maybe a griffin. You'd have complained that he was a bit too messy (your boyfriend, not the griffin), and you'd still spend a disproportionate amount of time in front of the mirror. You'd probably like drum n bass and have ended up in Grey Lynn. You might be a Pilates Instructor and definitely vegetarian.

I was really pissed off with you for a long time. I got suicidal too, but I got through it. It took about seven years for the pain to really lift off my chest. I know you're ok, because I can feel it. I can feel that you've healed, and that the next part of your eternal journey is so joy filled. I just wish it hadn't been so painful to lose you. It was really hard. You were so shut down towards the end, that fake smile plastered on your face.

So I'm thinking of you this morning, and how we wouldn't even be in touch anymore. I didn't really retain high school friendships.

I'm facebook friends with a couple though. Do you remember Louisa? She was always nice. Yeah, the stoned one.

Here's something that'll make you laugh though - internet dating is NORMAL ! It isn't solely the preserve of the perve! I took a break from it, but now I'm back in the game.

I'm going to call my last date

The Wanker.

The Wanker was a little bit ugly with a fairly hot body, especially for a 47 year old. I'd already had two dates (one coffee, the next was dinner at his house). The dinner at his house was a success. He was drinking whiskey and I was drinking wine. We ate, we talked, he asked if I'd ever been to Club Something or Other (a sex club) and told me about going there and getting his cock sucked by a dude's wife while he talked to the dude. Interesting. Well, I'm all for too much information, love it.

I made it clear that a sex club wasn't my thing, that sex as recreation wasn't up my alley (and he was VERY interested in my alley). He told me about the demise of his marriage, 12 years, feeling like it's over after five.

I felt relaxed, I felt like I could get to like him despite his open admiration of Phil Collins. I'm flexible. I'm open. A bit too open maybe. Well I liked the advert with the gorilla drumming, so hey, guess I must like Phil Collins too.

Anyway, the Wanker had good sexual energy. Potent. Ended up kissing for ages, it got rather steamy. He went on and on about my bum, and oooh how he'd like to do something to it. Let him know that anal wasn't my thing. He insisted that if it's done properly that it's good. I'm sure he's right, but I don't know that I want a man to desire my A hole more than my V hole.

Realised it was probably time to go home. The following week he texted morning and night "I miss your kiss" etc. Shivers of lust passed through my body all week.

I was planning to fuck his brains out on our third date if all went well. I was wondering if I could really have a relationship with a bloke ... a basic kiwi bloke who likes to watch rugby on his giant plasma screen whilst nursing a whiskey. His actual name was Kevin. Kevin. It sounds a bit hard and unyeilding doesn't it? A bloke called Kevin.

He had a fine idea, to drive out to the Miranda hotsprings on Saturday, then get something to eat on the way back. Nice, a thoughtful and interesting plan. He picked me up, we kissed briefly and after I'd packed some ciabatta, ham, pineapple, fetta cheese and hummus, we were on our way.

It was a bit strange. He didn't talk at all, unless prompted by me. It was impossible to tell what he was or wasn't thinking. He didn't seem at all interested in me. He could have had a blow up doll next to him. In fact, that might be his dream woman. A blow up doll with a good greasy arsehole.

He said he didn't really talk unless he'd had a few drinks. I still tried. I asked him all sorts of questions and was tolerant of the 80's music he had playing. I tried to bring forward my own mellow energy, looked at the scenery slipping by, admired the hawks circling in a darkening sky.

We got to the pools, and he paid, which I thought was considerate. We ate the snack I'd bought along and he indicated to the kiddie pool in front of us

"I've had a wank in that pool" he laughed

I laughed too. I said "how old were you?" imagining he must have been 12.

"Ahh," he shrugged, "about 18".

I made no further comment. Wanking in the hotpools at 12 is understandable. At 18 it's just ... a bit yucky. Hey man, I'm not trying to judge ... but I'm gonna have to.

Even though we'd been kissing and dry humping like maniacs the last time we'd seen each other, he wasn't reaching out. It seemed to take forever to make physical contact. We moved into the bigger cooler pool, kissed and hugged a bit. There was still nice physical chemistry. He'd probably fuck like a barstard, but his appropriateness levels were out of whack. I was trying to find something in common other than sexual chemistry.

"That Maori chick has got huge tits," he observed, "bet the rest of her is huge too."

Um. Ok.

At at another point

"I've got the edge. And I'm naughty. And you like that."

Er, right. Told my mum about that one, and she said

"It sounds like some line a friend told him about ... say this and women like it."

I guess one person's edge is another persons blunt knife.

I'd prefer an edgy taste in music, or a love of heights, not a rude disregard of manners. Despite this, I still wanted to have a good time. We teased each other a little bit, he kept feeling my arse and longed to get into it. Then I decided to lay it down. That I've had sex with two men in the last five years. One was my off-on relationship. I think this information sunk in and he probably thought "well I'm not going to get into her arse anytime soon".

We talked about happiness.

"No one's ever happy with me" he said

"Do you really mean that?"

"Well," he said "No one's ever really happy."

"I am." I responded

"No you're not."

"Um, no, really I am."

"Well I'm not saying I don't have periods of contentment, but I wouldn't say that's happiness."

I considered his statement.

"Well I do have times of darkness, and in the past I've been depressed, but now I'd say I feel a pretty consistent level of happiness most of the time. I wake up and I'm glad. I look for reasons to be grateful."

Cos that's the thing isn't it, to actively create what you want. To know you are the only one who can make yourself happy or unhappy. What is 'happy'? Is it getting your cock sucked in a sex club, or admiring the way light falls in the evening? Is it that moment between sober and blissfully intoxicated, or the rise in your heart upon stroking the cat? Is it lying in bed, drinking coffee, reading and feeling 'yes'.

It could be that some of them are not on the radar at all, that being sucked off in a sex club is one man's nightmare, or that reading in bed sounds boring and tiresome to some. Surely it's about growing your appreciation of whatever it is that you call the state of happy. Grow it. Soak in it whenever it comes.

After the pools we got fish and chips, driving along the seabird coast. It was beautiful.

"God, mangroves are ugly aren't they?" he commented.

"Ah, well, I know what you mean, but I guess when I look at them I think of how they support the bird life, and it makes them beautiful to me."

No reply to that one.

The fish n chips were fantastic. His non-talking stance was becoming harder for me to cope with. I asked if we could have a quick look at the beach from another angle. It's a muddy beach (hello, mangroves!) but it was more exposed and I wanted to stand out in it, feeling the hills and sky.

"Ok, as long as your'e quick" he said. Ugh. It reminded me of a relationship I used to be in where I always felt like I was being rushed or controlled, that opportunities to love life more were always crushed.

He sat in the car with the engine idling while I got out to admire the view, the beautiful stones on the foreshore, the birds picking through the shallows.

It was like being with a grumpy old fucking grandad or something. I picked up an egg shaped rock and walked back to the car. I opened the passenger door and smiled.

"Why don't you come out here for a minute, it feels so good."

"Nah," he said, "It's a shit hole. I've lived right on a beach for 15 years before, this is nothing."

I took the egg shaped rock and threw it directly between his eyes. He fell unconscious onto his steering wheel, it set off the horn in the car and the sound shattered the silence, pouring out into the empty space. I stood still, my arms hanging limply by my sides.

(Ok, that last part isn't true.)

I got back into the car and asked if he really couldn't see the beauty in that scene, and he said he'd been to every beautiful beach in the world ... so nah, it's a shit hole. I smiled.

"But I was standing there" (so you could have come and kissed me)

"Just because you enjoy something doesn't mean someone else does."

"Yes, I know that, but sometimes it can feel good to share a moment with someone, even if it's not entirely your thing."
"Well you wouldn't watch a rugby game though"

"Well I would actually. I have done before, and I even watched a bit of that opening night game with my flatmate's son."

"Yeah, Sonny Bull Williams ..."

"Yeah, he passes really well."

"Nah, I mean, he's got a really good body."

God. What is it with men going on about that guy? It's like they have a man-crush on him.

"Well yeah, he's got a good body, but me and Jaiman were admiring the way he passed the ball. Even I could see he was good at that. So even though I'm not interested in rugby, I'd still watch it if it meant a lot to someone or if it was a big occasion."

Silence ensued.

And more silence.

The only things he asked me were

"Did you know this car was diesel?"

and

"What time do you like to go to bed?"

He knew nothing about me other than what I'd freely offered up.

I looked at the hills and trees slipping by. I didn't know until we were close to my house that he'd been planning to watch the rugby that evening. So I was home without plans on a Saturday night! What a prick. Prick. Isn't that a great word?

I don't really mind though. He's the ideal prick for someone. A sort of hard arsed lady who wants a dick up her bum and no faffing around the mangroves thanks very much. I call it like I see it, and I'm not happy and no one is, that's my reality. Pass me the whiskey and maybe I'll talk.

Well Marc,

It's sad and good to think of you. Who you were, who you might have been, and what you are now.

Nothing ever really dies. I know that's true, and yet it's sometimes hard to believe when I'm still here on Earth in a Mortal body. What's it like to be free of a body? I've only astral traveled twice that I can recall, and it freaked me out a bit.

If you have reincarnated, which I think you would have done by now, then I hope it's going well. I'm sending you love. I'm asking you to stick with it this time. If you end up heading for a deep depression again then find a way to get help. You were such a creative, quirky guy. We were always laughing about something or somebody.

Lots of Love

Candice xxx

Beach and pondering the term 'Horny'

Pondering Life!
Greetings my sweet little piggies of love!

As you can see, now that Spring is here, I'm pretending it's high Summer. To the right we have a picture of one of my lovely new friends, Rachelle. You may remember I met her through Tam. We went to Piha, ate cake and coffee, talked about life and the Universe, then trekked over the hill to White Beach.

I was there on Friday too, when all the World Cup Rugby shennanigans were going on. I was meant to go galvinating with T and some of her friends, but I couldn't seem to get excited about being part of a pressing crowd ... dare I say, I listened to my Higher Self and it said "stay at the beaaaaaaaach".

So yeah, two days in a row of walking over to White Beach, and of course on Friday there wasn't a soul around, it was just perfect. Was good to take a friend on Saturday though, and fortunately she didn't mind my slow pace. Got to stop and touch trees, admire the sparkling sand, feel nature loving you, giving everything to you with it's energy. Gets me really horny actually.

Horny is a funny word. Obviously it can never be the same after Austin Powers, but it also makes me think of all those Penthouse Forums I read (sneakily) as a child, and how women in the stories always seemed to be standing around with dripping wet pussies and absolutely dying to suck big throbbing cocks. Leaves an impression on a 10 year old mind, and I ended up trying to write my own 'pent house forums' when I was 12. Ahhh, those weren't the days.

I was at Whangamata Area School from the time I was 10 and until I turned 13.

There came a day when Mrs Procter, the horrible Principal of the school, was given a scrap of paper a child found in the bin. It was a little taster of one of my 'forum stories'. I would write them for friends if requested, but on this occasion I'd written a rather intense B & D lesbian scene between two girls who were sometimes really bitchy to me. In guilt, I'd thrown the paper away, but when Mrs Procter walked in waving the offending scrap in the air, I was freaked out.

She went on and on and on. Someone in here must have written this DISGUSTING thing, and they have a PERVERTED, NASTY LITTLE MIND! Shit. Guilty guilty guilty. Most of my classmates knew it was me. Everyone kept quiet. Then strangely, after Mrs Fuck Face Procter left the room, I put up my hand.

"Mr Vaughn?"

"Yes Candy?"

"Um, ah, it was me who wrote that thing. Sorry."

"Ok then," he said, not looking at all shocked, "you'd better go and see Mrs Procter".

Side note: a Proctologist is someone who studies problems to do with the anus aren't they? So Mrs Procter was aptly named. She had a face like a puckered up bum hole.

Damnit. Mrs Bum Hole was nasty. She screwed up her wrinkled, mean face even more than usual and pronounced me a dirty, nasty, horrible little girl. She said she should give me the strap but wouldn't because of my Nanna. Oh yeah, my Nanna was a primary school teacher at the same school.

I looked at her calmly.

"Mrs Procter, I think you should treat me like anyone else. If you think I should have the strap, then I should have the strap" (You have to love the 80's!).

"Oh," she sneered (yes, SNEERED), "we do think we're CLEVER don't we? Well I'll be keeping a close eye on you ... !" She reminded me that I was filthy and disgusting.

All it did was make me angry. I felt a little bad about being caught for writing something so silly, but surely anyone could see it was just an invention, nothing to do with my own actual sexuality. I wasn't interested in B & D (well, not majorly). I didn't want to suck a giant cock. I was 12. I wanted to hold hands with a boy I liked. I wanted to be kissed. The stories were just funny.

It's true that I was already an avid wanker by the time I was 12, and I thought sex was really interesting, but funnily enough I ended up inflicting Christianity on myself by the time I was 14. Aint Guilt grand?

As a result, I was an incredibly late starter in many ways, but I was also saved from other extremes. I know if I'd followed my naughtier instincts I'd have chosen a pathway laden with drugs and sex. Instead, my sexuality grew in the repressed realms of Church. Jesus was always coming!

I digress. I was speaking of nature, and although we usually refer to Nature as a She, I feel like Nature was He in the last two days for me. the hard, glistening rocks I scrambled across to reach the stretch of sand, the feeling of cold waves on bare breasts on Friday. It was Nature as my boyfriend. And I love him.

Picture: White Beach, over from Piha.

Wanna see my Cocking Cactus? Cocktail party, feeling arty smarty.

Day of Hate, Cocktails and Conversations.

Yes darlings, it's my beloved cocking cactus. Isn't it glorious?

Thought it was high time to share a picture of the dear thing. Massive and smooth but with lots of tiny pricks.

Speaking of pricks, well, I was supposed to meet Wylietoday,

but of course he was sick and unable to meet for coffee and my desired Resolution.

I'm sure he's not aiming for Resolution. He probably imagines he'll have me back in the sack in no time Jack, but I have this little thing called self respect ... well ... at least I'm working on it. Although he said he was sick, he still texted today and asked if I felt like going for a drive. Hmm. What for? A blowie in the car? Who knows.

Had A Day of Hate yesterday. Do you ever get those? Haven't had such an epic one since I'm not sure when. A day when you actually wish death on those who do annoying things on the road, a day when you think of how shitty som

e of your relatives have been (or still are). I'm not refering to my mum or cousin Claire obviously. They rock.

Fortunately for me, I visited mum

and she said a few things that just calmed me the hell down. I knew I was being all hate fucked anyway, but seeing mumma just helped to soothe my soul. Hate or resentment is so yucky. It really eats away at your mojo like a big old moth

on wool.

I went to Tam and Sean's cocktail party and really enjoyed myself despite the fear I might feel consumed with fear, unresolved sorrows and resentments. Shows how crazy a day of Hate can be - I felt so happy last night!

Lovely people, some good quality conversations - one with Rachelle and another with Adam. Adam announced that he was an Atheist. What fun! Such commitment to a belief system, I like that.

Dionne, Tam's sister, had worked on the music playlist which was really quirky and suited the cocktail theme. There was dancing, strong mixes to consume, and towards deep of the evening ... MEATY STICKS. Yes folks, bacon and chorizo on a little toothpick. YUM!!!

Drank a bit when I got there, but calmed down and stopped in the last few hours so that I could drive home. And yes, I went home earrrrly, so I was able to wake up feeling fine and dandy.

So today I went to The Oratia Markets (through Glen Eden, keep driving, go through the roundabout and head towards that vineyard ... ).

I love going to this market. It makes me feel involved and virtuous, buying locally, blah blah.

I usually go quite late and today was no exception. I bought these eggs (SPCA approved), carrots, courgettes, bagels (which are amazing), two bags of mandarins, .... yeah you get it.

Picture shows me smiling with eggs

So I'm set for most of my groceries for the week, as long as I don't forget these things are in the fridge and need to actually be eaten. So that was my community spirit taken care of, and then I went to a dirty old mall (the one in New Lynnand did a few boring things ... among them buying bras!).

Was there ever a task so onerous? Finding a bra to fit AND look fine is much more arduous than a man could ever believe possible. I was in changing rooms for nearly two hours, possibly more. I think I tried on forty bras. Seriously. Fortunately there was a sale on (yayyyy) and I got three bras and millions of knickers for $110. I'm in the unique position of wearing a bigger bra than I appear to need. C cups always look like they should fit me. They don't.

Now I'm trying to decide if I can be arsed going out again tonight. I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I would rather stay home, read a book, or watch a DVD

... but I do have the chance to go out with my beloved T and her friends. One of them is the guy who made the fau paux the night of the Flat Tyre ... gosh, what nick name did I giv

e him? Was it Mr Sensitive?

He's probably a good person though, and I don't think I'd feel funny if we were all out having a dance. So yeah, it'd be Rakinos. Haven't been to Rakinos since returning to NZ.

Oooh, update, just talked with T and fortunately she doesn't feel like going out either. Yay!

We can stay in and be wonderfully boring. Oh wait, she's inviting her part time boy over. Oh well! Maybe time to call the sexy ex. Hmmm.

And now - more photos of Tosca and stuff for your pleasure and amusement. Lots of love, C x.

Rest From Internet Fishing, get back to Creating!

Picture: looking out my window in New Lynn.

Internet Dating ... when it's time to take a rest from it:

Helloooooo
well darlings, you know what I've realised? Using internet dating should only be done for as long as it's fun and 'frisky' (as E Hicks would say). When it becomes a bit of a bummer, and you feel sucky bannana, then it's time to get the hell out and focus on your creative or intellectual pursuits more!

Can you believe how much fucking energy goes into the want of romantic love? Well, I can, because I have been expending it. I do believe it's all good, that there is no waste of my energy in this regard. What I mean is, I know it's coming, it's like getting a job or finding a good flat. I've done the 'work' on myself. I'm sane, creative and full of looooooooooove!

I haven't done one painting since I've returned to NZ. I haven't made one clay doll's head, and I haven't been to any art gallery openings (why are they always on the days I can't make it?).

I reckon I just got a bit carried away with the net dating. I was cramming in 2 or 3 dates

some weeks, and sometimes you'd think 'no' as soon as you sat down, but still feel like you should spend an hour talking shit with that person. Or worse, I can't actually talk shit very well, so I'd feel the need to get way deep with someone I'd never want to see again.

Right now the sun is trying to shine through the clouds, clouds which are so puffy and low down that you feel hugged by the sky. That was one of the things I missed so much about NZ when I was in the big, far away skied Korea.

Last night I wrapped a blankie around me and sat in the deckchair on the front lawn (noisy with the cars, but ah well) and Tosca came out with me. We just hung out in the cool air. I looked up at the sky, could see the stars. Yesterday I was in bed all day recovering from a really delightful dose of food poisoning. Urgh, it was a both ends at once deal. I lamented the rare tuna and caramelised bannana as they forced their way out of me. That was the new FISH restaurant, formerly WHITE, the Hilton. God, it was good. Nice

waiter too, really naughty.

Picture: Dolly says hi to Buddha. Fun times.

I don't know if it was their food, or if I had an allergy to something in it. I suppose I should have rung and told them. I didn't start feeling better again till 9.30pm at night, so sick that even speaking was difficult.

I'd gone to FISH (terrible name, especially since the two main men in the restaurant were gay and you could imagine them saying 'ugghhhh, NO FISH!') with Feather, my dear work colleague and possible angel. It was her mum's birthday yesterday, so we honoured her with this lovely dinner since she left the earth a number of years ago. Feather showed me Maureen's picture and I was blown away by her beauty, one of those faces that are just so angelic. I know, I know, I'm going on about angels whenever I talk about Feather.

A lot of people would have gone to B street on K Rd last night, the bands playing as promoted by student radio in Auckland. As I sat in the chair wrapped in my blue woollen blankie looking up at the sky, I truly felt I didn't really want to be anywhere else.

Today I woke up feeling so rested, so purified (accidental fasting!), and have managed to get some washing done, changed the sheets, took photos of Tosca being cute. I looked at Amsbry's photos of Thailand on Facebook and commented on way too many of them.

Now that I don't have Findsomeone to take up too much of my creative energy, I guess I can start making doll heads and painting again! Wahooee, you know I love it.

So my dear sausages of love, today I plan on going to the run down Palm Springs hot pools out Helensville way with Brenda. I haven't hung out with Brenda before, but it should be lovely. If for any reason she can't make it, I'll go on my own and look up at the stars.

Right now, I think I need to buy clay to make some doll heads. Ooh goodie.

Be happy and safe, and if you can't be happy and safe, enjoy your misery!

xxxx

My Metaphorical Nuts, Mr Singlet, Improved Eyesight, and Sunny Daze!

Ah, so sorry about my last depressing blog. It was a bit of a bummer, but you know, getting out there and dating regularly takes big balls, and after Mr Eyebrows my

metaphorical nuts

had shrunk to the size of marbles.

In the meantime I've dated three more men, all of which were interested in seeing me again, but only one of which has any hope of compatibility. He has rather lovely eyes, but was quite reserved in nature upon our first meeting.

Well, I was really late, I forgot how long it took to drive to Mt Eden, geeze. Perhaps he was reserved because waiting around for some woman from the internet wasn't his idea of a fun way to spend a Saturday morning. Fair enough too. Let's just say me and time do not always see eye to eye. I'm working on that.

We could call this guy Mr Singlet because he appears on the internet dating site wearing a white one and looking quite muscly armed and sexy. He's a little bit of a bloke I think, but I'm liking that more these days. Maybe my hormones are up the jiggery pokery, but a man who knows how to work things and pick things up looks pretty good to me these days. I usually like men who have some interest in art and hopefully reasonable taste in music ... but if I can have it all then why not? Supposed to be a man shortage on. Not for me. Lots of yummy men out there, it's just a matter of sorting through them and enjoying meeting the ones you do date. Oh, and not getting over excited on date two and then all bummed out if the dude hasn't got his shit sorted out. Some people never grow up, and that's got little to do with me. If I want to make it about me, then sure, I can. It just won't lead me anywhere I wanna go will it?

On facbook I made a comment about protecting your 'fire'. I thought of Bear Grylls (pwoarh) chomping away on maggots, starting fires in the middle of wherethefuck, and thought 'well if we protected our positive energy like a small fire in the amazon at night, then we'd stand a much better chance of being mentally healthy'. Instead we live so much of life by default, letting whatever random crap that comes along into our lives.

We'll watch the news and think it's all completely real, we'll devour sad stories like chocolate biscuits during a premenstrual binge, we'll suck up gossip through the straw of fear and excitement .... but protecting peace and joy is so far from the focus of society that we struggle to maintain it on a daily basis.

How I maintain it ...

I write something positive in the mornings, try to make sure I pleasure myself regularly (think nice thoughts!), watch good stand up comedy (thanks Nate, I am still introducing Louis CK to anyone who will let me), wear nice clothes, attempt to exercise more than once a week, love the cat, talk about good things, listen to music in the car, smile at myself in the mirror. Anything you can think of that helps.

OH!!! GET THIS: My eyesight has improved! Hadn't been to the optometrist for about 3 years, had been buying lenses off the net cheaper, finally went and got them seen to and the woman goes
"Your optic nerve is looking really good!"
Ha ha ha! Get it? My optic nerve is LOOKING REALLY GOOD. So, that's fine, but in addition to this my base curve (eyeball shape) has dropped from 8.6 to 8.4 and the power from -5 to 4.75. I reckon it's because I made a decision (about three years ago) that my eyesight would not get worse anymore.
Wahooee!

What else ... well, 'Wylie' has been in touch. Oh yeah, I know, yadda yadda, he's a bad bad man, he only wants to fuck me and use me. But I do want to resolve it for once and for all. I want to look in his eyes and ask him "what happened?".

I'm asking the angels for help on it. I can't do it on my own steam, it has to come from a part of me that's more evolved, otherwise I'll end up under the powers of my, er, 'base chakra'. Time to rise above (rise above! rise above! Is that Black Flag?).

My metaphorical nuts are getting bigger by the day. Watch out.

Disappointed , but that's ok. Rejection sucks balls.

God, rejection sucks balls doesn't it?

The End of Mr Eyebrows

Even though I have about 10 other men on the dating website who are interested in meeting me, I of course get all excited about one person with great eyebrows. He's nothing like what I'd normally go for either, but he really had something in him ... maybe it was magic saliva?

I continue to be positive in my expectations. There isn't much else one can do in Love, or we'll all end up being cynical old shit heads who drink too much and masturbate excessively and cry ourselves to sleep. Ha ha!

I dunno, I think Mr Eyebrows just had this quality I felt 'at home' with. He felt like a real person who was being honest with me. Maybe he was, but he didn't tell me that he 'doesn't really know' what he wants from life until today (I did ask if he was still processing a prior relationship, had to get this all over with). Nope, reckons he's dealt with his last relationship. Just doesn't know what he wants and thinks I'm 'sweet'. Sweet. Jesus. Thanks. Sigh.

How can anyone get to be 45 and not know what they want? No, I'm not being silly, I'd really like to know. I don't get it. I've known what I wanted since I was five. To love and be loved. To sing. To make people laugh. To be understood and to understand.Oh no. I AM SWEET. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

A SUCK it, so be it. I am sweet. There, I admit it.

The Sexy Ex visited last night. Bought over chicken and veges and had a shared meal with my flattie and her son. We all watched True Blood together and crapped ourselves with excitement. It was really sweet.

xxx

How to think of things .... mum, guilt, shopping ...

Something I think everyone struggles with now and then is how to communicate with one's mother. It doesn't seem to matter how well you get on with her, there will be moments when it just isn't going as peachily as you'd wish.

My mum is lovely, but boy, when we misunderstand each other it's not a pretty sight. I've been practicing my practical spiritual applications to the situation for years now, but feel like I'm only just getting there. It's been slow going, but yep, I'm getting there.

Today's E Hick's inspirational card says:
"There is nothing for me to guard against.You exist in a place of absolute well-being; tell yourself that again and again. Know it. Be the evidence of it to give others reason to believe that all can be well."

Mum and I argued last night. Well, I think it was an argument anyway. I didn't feel angry, but at the same time, I decided to just call things exactly as I saw them, refusing to take on the roles normally assigned to me. For example, in a disagreement you might always be cast as the bully, or maybe the victim. I have mainly chosen the victim role in my life in the past, but with mum, funnily enough, I end up being the 'bully'. I just couldn't do it last night. I told her what I was thinking, but of course she just cried. I wasn't really upset by her tears either. I've seen too many of them.

I wasn't sure if the way I felt and dealt with this was cruel. I normally end up saying sorry, even when I've done nothing wrong. I didn't do that. I tried to explain where I was coming from, that I don't want to play out these roles anymore, that I love her, but if she accuses me of things I'm not even doing, then I will stand up for myself. She said I was putting on a 'voice'. God, maybe I was.

I sometimes find that a voice stronger and calmer than my everyday voice will come out of me when I need it to ... and I think it really irritates mum because it might seem fake to her. For me it's been a life saver. It's the voice of reason that lurks beneath all my fears and anger. If I sound like a wanker, ah well, at least I'm a wanker that isn't shouting or abusing anyone.

Despite this weird 'argument' about nothing, we've had a really nice time together since mum came over to visit on Friday night. We went to 'Calendar Girls' which I reviewed, it was pretty mediocre, but something fun to do. Yesterday we caught up with The Sexy Ex and assisted him in buying NEW CLOTHES! Yes, it's the first time in five whole years that TSE has bought new clothes without his mother somehow being involved. You can imagine my excitement. The control. The bossiness. The Voice that came from me. I marched into the shopping complex like a fucking drill sergeant and proceeded to look for sales.

Mum and TSE trailed after me like dazed kittens, and in Just Jeans I allowed TSE to listen to a pretty shop girl for far too long before calling out
"You may as well look at the jeans that are on special first"

Made him try on the really skinny jeans first, but they were too high waisted and grabbed his cock and balls in a denim vice. Not a good look. He ended up going for the slightly wider leg and getting a really good deal thanks to my razor sharp specials-hunting mind. If he'd gone in alone he would have been sold one pair of over-priced jeans by one of the wee girls in the shop. He looked absolutely gorgeous, and then we all went to Arthur's, a turkish cafe/restaurant in Kingsland. I had Affogatto (which I believe I'm spelling wrong) which mum shared, and TSE had a lemon lime and bitters.

Got home and Tenika the sweet flatmate was getting ready to go out. She looked stunning in a one shouldered, 70's inspired dress.

Drank some bubbly she offered and got a bit drunk really quickly. Fight with mum ensued. Don't really know what it was about. I wasn't really fighting from my end, but it really was one of those situations where you couldn't do anything ... you just had to hold your own peace, exist in a place of well being, don't let guilt eat into your heart like a sneaky cancer. I hugged mum for a long time. She's still grieving for Nanna, and she's been doing so well. Not sure how else I could have been last night, nothing I said helped, it was like the script was already running in her mind and she couldn't really hear me.

I kept saying "the thing is, when we don't agree or misunderstand each other, I know it's only on the surface ... that the love we have is the only real thing anyway"
but she kept on crying.

And that's ok. If you have to cry, then cry. Just don't say it's my fault. ;)

You are in a place of absolute well-being ... know it ... be the evidence of it.

Mr Eyebrows ....

Here I am in my nice room with my furry beast of love, Tosca, or Tosser as she is sometimes known.

Today's card of inspiration from E Hicks:

"As you look for things to appreciate, praise, or enjoy, you achieve vibrational harmony with your own Source (higher self), and with all that is good. And then, the powerful Law of Attraction brings more good things to you."

Yeah baby, bring it!

You know what I like to do? I'll sometimes look in the mirror and say to myself 'yeah, you are a bit sexy and good looking arent' you'. So much better than lamenting the latest wrinkle or whatever it is that I'm supposed to be worried about. I think I've been preparing for getting older since I was about 19, so I should be fine with it.

Being in NZ is so much better for one's sexual ego (and options). The Internet Dating Scene is rife with horny men (and if sex alone is what you want, you are spoilt for choice).

Mr Eyebrows:

Goddamit it, he's hot. We got on really well, he sparkled his eyes at me, we went on date two on Tuesday and then got all kissy bannana. Trouble is, think I broke some rule or something, talked way too much about deep things and may have scared him. He is a Cancerian after all, and aren't they prone to scuttling under rocks and hiding?

Yeah, I should (and I don't mean this) be following those rules about keeping things light. I just can't though. It's boring. If I want light, I'll talk to someone in a shop.

We're still in contact, but I feel like he's pulled back and now I've gone 'oh shit, he knows how much I liked him and he's JUST NOT THAT INTO ME'.

Can't really see how that's possible, I'm a fucking catch! I have no insane ex partners, no children, no debt (ok, let's not count student loans) and I'm dynamite in the sack (not that he knows that yet).

So I'm going to do what E Hicks suggests. What went well? I met a sexy, intelligent, honest man who spent time with me and was kind and interesting. I'll just calm myself down a bit. God, it's the hormones I think. Yes, coming up to Moon Time physically and literally.

Gotta go to work now, going to run late otherwise.

love ya, send me a relationship success vibe will you?

Life is Bloody Good!

Picture shows me whoring a coat on Trademe. No buyers.

Had a really sexy dream about the guy who plays Eric from True Blood. One of those dreams that was so real, I can still taste his skin.

In 'real life', I am recovering from the Flu, nothing compared to the hacking horror of illness in the merciless Korean primary school system, but enough to have tired me out and slowed me down.

The Net update:

I've said I'll catch up with Mr Chambray again. He is so named for his light denim-like shirt, a popular choice in the 1980's and briefly revisited as a fashion look for girls under 25.

He was a perfectly nice man with very beautiful eyes, we talked easily and I did wonder if maybe there could be chemistry. The thing that might throw a spanner into those works is his taste in music.

The Scorpions. I think they're a dodgy hair metal band from the early 1980's. Youtube it. You'll see what I mean.

Ok, just you tubed them myself and they would best be known for 1988's 'Wind of Change', which has that nice whistling at the start. They've been around since the 70's, and the lead singer is a man who insists on keeping his hair long and fluffy even when it's receding on the top.

Having said that, I have gone out with people with varying taste levels when it comes to music, and sometimes those with 'the best taste' are a bit prone to being judgemental and arseholey anyway. Remember Mr Arrogant? He had the BEST taste in music, but he was such a dick head.

I have a coffee date thismorning at 11. I think. Wait, I'll check my phone.

So yes, I'm having coffee with what looks like might be a nice, normal-ish man who has quite good taste in music and very good eyebrows. Lush and thick. Mr Eyebrows!

As far as life goes in general, I have been catching up with The Sexy Ex every now and then for more than a cup of tea. It's just as well really. I was feeling quite strange about my sudden longing for Wylie, The Engineer, but once I'd caught up with TSE I calmed down again. Got it all back in perspective.

I know that TSE and I are not meant to be together in the long term. We have tried so many times, but he really can't commit. That's ok, our arrangement seems to be working well for both of us. I don't feel attached, but it is lovely to spend the time together once every two weeks or so.

As for Creating the Life you Want ... it all seems to be going rather well doesn't it? I have a great job, I'm saving up to visit (hopefully) Claire in Vietnam at the end of the year (or November-ish) and I adore my flatmate and friend Tenika. I'm getting on well with Feather from work, and I actually tidied my room yesterday and it looks fucking amazing. God I have good taste.

So yes, I can list all these things, but more than that is this feeling of contentment that runs through me. I love focusing on what is good and what's actually working well each day. I wake up and I ly in bed thinking of things I am grateful for. I seem to be surrounded by kind and helpful people where ever I go. Life is bloody good.