On biting dogs and do overs
One of my favourite sayings – and hence one I say an awful lot because it is a part of a veritable litany of Very Wise Stuff I Say – is Never Get Bitten By The Same Dog Twice. Not Getting Bitten By The Same Dog Twice is the ultimate in protective behaviour. If someone has done something once, they are bound to do it again because humans, if nothing else, are generally consistent. Being wary of the dog (human) that bit you once means you are less likely to be bitten by that same dog (human) again. It’s a metaphor that suits all manner of situations: the manager to whom you give helpful information and who proceeds to promptly bite your head off. That “friend” who has a chronic tardiness issue and can’t seem to get their act together to meet you on time. That Italian man you know you really shouldn’t have given a second chance, but – because you believe from the depths of your soul that it was Meant To Be – ends up breaking your heart.
Yeah. About that. Hold that thought – we’ll come back to that in a minute.
My patched-up, blue-tacked, soldered-together heart and my 50 years on this planet gives me (what I like to think of as) practical experience in the Romance Department. I’ve had my fair share of short-term lovers, longer-term boyfriends and de facto relationships. Hell, I was even engaged once. I’ve had relationships where I’ve been excruciatingly, unbelievably happy, and relationships where I’ve been excruciatingly, unbelievably miserable. I’ve been in relationships where I have been so lonely I thought I was living solo on my own island, and relationships where I felt so crowded I wanted to implode. I have had sex that simultaneously curled my toes and made me melt, and sex which was cold, mechanical and alienating. I have kissed enough boys and men to know that kissing is an excellent indication of said boys’ and men’s attention to matters of an intimate nature. Good kissers are invariably good in the sack.
The art of insouciance in 4 simple steps
This post was first published on 5 February, 2014. Given that this week I indulged in post-Christmas shenanigans of the plot twist variety, I still need to work on cultivating my insouciance. I’m happy to report that I’m getting better at it, though. Pfft. Meh. Whatever.
Insouciant. Insouciance. I really like this word: how it sounds when I say it, and what the word actually means. It’s French, of course; what other language could manufacture such a linguistically delightful word that has such a cool meaning?
I stumbled on this word as I was trying to find the answer to philosophical question on Google, and it hit me! Insouciance is both the answer and a way of life… a state of mind that I must practice more regularly to be more zen in my outlook.
And my reasons for wanting to emanate insouciance? Being more insouciant doesn’t mean that you stop caring. Or that you stop feeling. It means that you worry less about things you have no control over, so you can care more about things you do have a say in. And it means that you are ensuring that the things you feel strongly about will give you a good return on investment. Plus radiating insouciance is dead sexy… think Mae West, Lauren Bacall and other such femme fatales (blokes: think George Clooney and Jeffrey Donovan aka Michael Westen in Burn Notice) who ooze laid back cool. Insouciance is bringing sexy back.
Life’s disappointments (Part 1)
I was going to publish this as one post, but it ended up being quite long, so I decided to split it into two parts to make it easier to absorb. But please don’t be depressed: I really only have four major disappointments – interspersed among countless minor ones – in the 50 years I’ve been on this planet. It’s just that I have a lot to say about each of the four biggies…
I posted recently that I haven’t had too many regrets in life. They amount to about three:
- not marrying the rich, lovely, delicious Penola farmer I was seeing when I was 19. I broke up with him because my mother made my life hell while I was dating him due to her own self-loathing, petty jealousy and need for control;
- not traipsing round the globe in my 20s having affairs with exotic men, and working in exotic locations like London or New York or Paris. Or Saigon or Calcutta or Shanghai, and benefiting from those invaluable life skills that only travel can teach you like keeping cool in a crisis, dealing with sociopaths and seeing wonderful, breathtaking, amazing, crazy, heartbreaking things;
- that I didn’t find a significant other to have more children with, because I really, really, really liked being a mother, and having been a solo parent once, I wasn’t keen to have more children as a solo parent – I wanted someone to share the journey with.
The speech I gave for my daughter’s 21st birthday celebration
My daughter turned 21 on March 24, 2014 and this was the speech I gave for her 21st birthday celebration. I raised her as a single parent, and it was warmly received by her and her guests. I was 29 when my daughter T came into the world on Wednesday, 24th of March, 1993 at
One of my best ever achievements
I published this post very recently – on January 15 this year, in fact – but seeing as my daughter’s 21st birthday celebration is tonight, I thought I would republish it today. Here’s to you, my wonderful daughter! My daughter is about to turn 21 and I’m in the process of writing a speech to
I need a good, old-fashioned, girl’s own adventure!
One of the things I regret (and I really don’t have many regrets at all) is that I didn’t travel when I was younger. Instead of partying it up in the 80s, I should have back-packed my way around Asia slumming it in cheap and cheerful hostels, before moving to London or New York for
Made in Heaven
This post was first published on 24 July 2012. Seeing as we’ve just celebrated (?) international Single Awareness Day (iSAD – aka Valentine’s Day), I figured it’s a good time to republish this post. Oh, and I recently updated my relationship status to “runner”. Nostalgia is a wonderful gift. It causes us to view experiences
Survival skills
A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about why I changed my name. Revisiting the past, which I had to do to explain the aforementioned name change, I was hit (no pun intended) with the realisation that I not only survived what can only be described as a toxic childhood, but managed to thrive as
The One Thing every new employee needs (and never ever gets)
This post was first published on 4 February 2012. It’s still a rare workplace that onboards new employees effectively. Information and communication are key tools, but are used inadequately. What every new employee needs – and never, ever gets – is a So You’re New Here and You’ll Need to Know This Stuff Handbook. As
Decisions, decisions
This article was first posted on 13 March, 2012. Given that we are just about to launch into Adelaide’s silly season again, this is a timely reminder that less is more, even though more seems better at the time! Adelaide, my home town, is a hive of activity in February and March. For readers who
Why running is a metaphor for life
Regular readers will know that I took up running at the beginning of 2011 for two reasons. One: I had a problem controlling my weight (I wasn’t huge, but I wasn’t svelte either) and two: to honour my friend Dave Fitzsimons who died of non-Hodgkins lymphoma in 2008. I walked the inaugural Fitzy’s 5 determined
No one important
This post was first published on 10 May 2012. I’m not an active user of Twitter these days. Not like I was a couple of years ago. I just pop in to see what’s going on, then pop out.
The other day, someone I knew said I wasn’t important. He didn’t say it to me directly. He said it to the Twitterverse, but I knew he was talking about me. It saddened me greatly, because this was a person I counted as a friend. He had helped me, and I had helped him. We laughed about life and discussed love, and he told me I had integrity. I thought he did too…
The reason our friendship ended – I think – was because he became involved with someone. I was happy for him, because he was looking for love. But it also meant that he drifted away: I hadn’t seen him for months. I tried to catch up, but there were excuses and cancellations and no-shows. There is a wise saying to which I adhere in these situations: don’t make someone your priority, when they aren’t prepared to make you theirs. I got the message – loud and clear – that I was not his priority. It seemed I wasn’t even on his radar anymore!