The way people order coffee...

I know that it's incredibly wrong to start judging people by the way they order their coffee but can I please sneakily judge the guy who has a triple shot take away cap with five sugars? I tend to be a bit concerned about the function of his heart. 

As for my own heart monitoring… I've signed up for another fun run, this one across the harbour bridge with thousands of other crazy morning runners. I'll be monitoring my heart as I run. My training runs have been sporadic at best while getting my family through the latest sickness and working at HANG, the gorgeous Cafe/Art Gallery where I seem to be spending a little bit of time!

Men men men.. they are confusing me. An ex boyfriend calls to ask a parenting question, another calls and talks and talks while I sit silently, with nothing much to say and a ponderous heart. The conversation felt so bizarre that he asked a few times if I was still there. I wasn't really sure whether I was. Then a guy in uniform (and we all know how much we all love those!) comes into work and orders hot chocolate. I give him a marshmallow. The women customers fall silent and I have a quiet giggle to myself and wonder if these boys ever grow up? And for that matter, will I?

I worry in advance of my daughters single years and probable heartaches. How on earth do parents not annihilate the people who hurt their kids hearts? I would like to stop time for a little longer so they grow up slower, stay innocent longer, keep coming into my arms for snuggles. My lovely little girls.

Today's revelation: Someone wants to take me out for dinner. My 10 year old says I blush when he calls. How embarrassing… but I like him.

A neenish tart for a broken heart.

A neenish tart and I found each other on Tuesday morning after I'd spent yet another night of my life crying over a man. When I saw it, it was love at first sight. It was pink and chocolatey but stuck in my throat and made me feel like vomiting. I would like to make a very public point here about honesty. Sometimes its better to shield someone from the whole truth. It is NOT nice to tell someone you want to break up a relationship (of any description) and ADD that you have a better offer for this Saturday night. I don't want to know about how easy it is for him to move on. I didn't think I needed to know he's got a date for this very Saturday. Jeez. Surely there can be a break up etiquette invented where it's just a wound not a wound with salt thrown in on top.
All the neenish tarts in the world are not going to solve this one. I'm just going to keep on running. Worse things have certainly happened to me.
Today's revelation: "SO what, I'm still a rock star, I've got my rock moves, and I don't need you, and guess what, I'm having more fun, and now that we're done, I'm going to show you, Tonight I'm alright, I'm just fine, and you're a tool. So, SO WHAT!" Pink

The truth is more powerful than fiction

I'm supposed to be updating my resume, so naturally I'm procrastinating as much as humanly possible. University has finished for a while and I feel relieved.
I've got just a little bit to say today about how strangely life can do back flips and keeps me on my toes. The major life lesson I've learned in the last few weeks is that the truth is more powerful than fiction. Reality is a matter of each person's individual perspective. My perspective has been a little strained recently but now I'm aware of a few things that will help in the path ahead:
1. My children are FIRST (I've always known this)
2. The kids don't like conflict and should not be exposed to it.
3. Even ugly people partner up eventually.
4. It's important not to get any more cats.
5. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before" is the most pathetic cheesy pick up line in the entire universe.
6. Friends are very important.
7. Patience is a virtue that I wish I had.
8. List making always helps (I've always known this too)

More on Point number 5. A little story to entertain you this afternoon,
I'm at the petrol station the other day just about to get in my car to drive away when a guy who can't walk very well comes over and says:-
Bleeding guy: Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
Me: No, no  I don't think so
Bleeding guy: I'm sure I have, I forget names but I never forget a face
Me: I'm sure I don't know you and did you know your arm is bleeding (looking at a horrible arm wound oozing blood)
Bleeding guy: Ahh yes it is, well I guess if you don't know me... but could we have met at a party?
Me: No I don't know you
Bleeding guy: Seeya
Me: Bye
 
I blame my jacket for being extremely hot. Why can't it attract someone who wants to come to the MCA with me and eat a meal with me that is cooked by someone else? The bleeding guy takes my prize in life as the ultimate in awfully awkward chat up lines. Honestly. At least it made me laugh... After driving away. The poor guy was just having a go I suppose. My advice to the bearers of bad chat up lines is this, quite simply, don't be oozing blood while you chat to women who have hot jackets.

A juggling act

The life of a single parent...Is it juggling or balancing? or simply hanging in there and rolling with all of it? We have had a spectacularly busy week. Once I folded the pile of laundry today I simply had to retreat down the street to my bestie's place for a cuppa. Putting them away and tackling the rest of it seemed too hard!
The cat has become nocturnal and prefers waking me up by walking on my face in the night. The dog had a flea which sent me into a tailspin of revoltingness (this is a word). The chooks are still behaving like arseholes and gobbling all the food and producing not a single egg. The kids are beautiful, but kinda snotty and coldy, therefore grubby and making me feel like I should be disinfecting surfaces! In short: thank heaven's its Friday.
There's too much uni work on my plate at the moment, and not enough hours in each day! I'm writing an essay on a chick lit novel and a graphic novel. It's boring me but I love uni, I love uni, I love uni (repeating to myself as a chant till semester is over)
Sometimes I feel like my life is an endless to do list.. and not enough is getting done. Still juggling away!
Today's revelation: A wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf. And it probably has fleas.

Thirty six and never been kissed

  I'd really like to celebrate my birthday. I did not get a single kiss. When I was married I had nicer birthdays, or at least that's how I choose to remember it. After 4 years the memories are dim. Still I do remember the cheap mothers day cake with the words Happy Mothers Day being altered to Happy Day. That was extremely amusing. I now understand how significant an ordered plate cupboard is... Thanks Lew!
   I'm seriously grateful to my lovely girls who made the day start wonderfully yesterday with breakfast in bed. Gorgeous girls that they are. I'm hoping to celebrate tomorrow night by carb loading and going to bed early. Fun run Sunday morning, can't wait.
  Blogs are interesting in their expression of how words have power. Communication in this digital age is far reaching, or short reaching and can even get a whole suburb away. Welcome to my new readers!
  I really had better write some uni work... Last nights lesson was my fave so far. We got evacuated for a little while and I used 'my birthday' like the princess and the pea would and refused to get into any discussion about Eat, Pray, Love.

   Still waiting for that kiss....! Hopefully soon.

Today's revelation: Thirty six is still mid thirties, and nowhere near late thirties so my darling sister...I'm not that old! Love you Ked. xo

an episode of Jerry Springer

I had an ex-boyfriend call yesterday. A lovely guy but obviously not for me. He called to wonder why it's hard to share his space with his new partner. He wondered this out loud, I listened and hung laundry on the line. What a bizarre choice to call me for relationship advice.. Honestly!
What was nice though was laughing at his jokey way of talking to me and the way he told me I'm not allowed to get a tattoo. As if I'd do anything he said! I can truly say I miss his parents, and all that delicious food. I miss listening to french at family events where I felt paraded as the new girlfriend (not cosy) but felt vindicated by the fact that I could understand everything they were saying in french when they thought they were talking about me behind my back.
You see people at times in your life for a reason, and he made sense then. He was scary, tattooed and huge. I guess that's where I was up to then...
I've come a long way.
I described my ex-husband's latest choices and mentioned that I thought it's like the days of our lives. He disagreed and told me I'm living in an episode of Jerry Springer. Well I guess that's right except we're all sure who the father is.
Today's revelation: I spent today in a please-let-it-not-be-my-birthday-tomorrow SLUMP. And when you're in a slump, you're a grump. 

Running 'towards'

    Running is a one year old passion for me. It took three weeks to process a terrible thing I had heard and to start feeling addicted and then, well, I took off. I've flirted with running for all of my life but now I'm a convert. Many people see me out and about running and almost all ask why? The answer is so simple. It's simple to run, you just put your shoes on, leave the house and put one foot in front of the other. I love the solitude, I love my ipod, I love the time to think.
   I am not into team sports, though I'll obsessively be watching yet another Tour de France soon and complaining (again) about being alone on my couch. I exercise alone. I monitor my heart without a heart rate monitor by simply checking in with myself. It's self indulgent and it makes my clothes too big. I run fun runs and one day I'd love to be met at the end of one by my kids or a friend.  
  Today I got an early birthday present from my Dad, new running shoes. Now the guy in Athletes Foot was so incredibly good looking I honestly would have bought every shoe in the store. Something about his tattoos or his eyes or the way he spoke about performance socks just had me. He was talking about running, a language I could understand. (ok, so the guy didn't give me a second glance.. but he may have looked if I had been a decade younger... at least that's what I going to delude myself by thinking)
  I guess it feels like I'm in on the secret..... that running is cheaper than therapy and twice as effective. It makes me feel free. Thanks for the shoes papa bear!
Today's revelation: running 'towards' is far more beneficial than running 'from'.