Just because I say it and I write it, it isn't always so.
To paraphase a quote by JC (and I don't mean Jarvis Cocker);
'Ask me and I'll tell you. Knock and I'll open up to you'
From now on, I will be known as Ms Under Stood- because I totally am.
To those who may be offended by my words I am sorry BUT if you want to know what I mean-ask me.
If you could hear my voice now, it is gentle and concise, not shouty and angry.
To those who think I have some sort of agenda, I don't. Perhaps you feel that by blogging this,
the lady doth protest too much. I'm not protesting, I'm blogging. Which is something I haven't done in a long time.
To those who feel I have wronged them, come forward and tell me so I have a right of reply and the chance to apologise. As far as I was aware, the Salem witch trials ended a long time ago. Please advise if they have started again so I can re apply my lippy before I'm burnt at the stake.
Freedom is blogging. Freedom is the right to say you hate me and my blog, go to your settings and deleting me.
I don't hate anyone and I am an open book. Be it embarrassing,drunken,all singing,all dancing- this is me for better or worse.
That's it.
Peace,love and sticky date pudding...x
Showing posts with label self esteem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self esteem. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
El Miercoles
Today provided me with;
When I get out of here tonight, I'm off to tango to hopefully get some good dancing in and catch up with my tango gals. Tomorrow, I have a day off to piss fart around before glamming up and heading to The Forum to see the amazing Royal Crown Revue- woo hoooooo!
Watch this space for gig revue and quite possibly photos-depending on how they turn out. I can at least put up one's of Miss Stacey and I looking muy guapa. (copy,paste,put into spanish translation tool).
After wanting to do draino shots, I'm glad the sunshine's coming through. I'm a lucky lady.
Thanks life...
- Winning the office trivia of a $50 Myer Voucher
- Being nominated by my manager for being 'customer focused' and winning another voucher worth $20
- Getting the house we applied for on Monday
- A box of Haigh's berry chocs from the luvverly Bob
- Two divine coffees from Brother Baba Budan
- My iPod which 'died' yesterday miraculously started working again.
When I get out of here tonight, I'm off to tango to hopefully get some good dancing in and catch up with my tango gals. Tomorrow, I have a day off to piss fart around before glamming up and heading to The Forum to see the amazing Royal Crown Revue- woo hoooooo!
Watch this space for gig revue and quite possibly photos-depending on how they turn out. I can at least put up one's of Miss Stacey and I looking muy guapa. (copy,paste,put into spanish translation tool).
After wanting to do draino shots, I'm glad the sunshine's coming through. I'm a lucky lady.
Thanks life...
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
World AIDS Day
Today is World Aids Day. It began on December 1, 1990. Don't think it's under control and going away. Every year, 2 million people die of AIDS related illness. It is not just the gay cancer anymore. People are still being as stupid as ever and thinking that they are bullet proof. I have a dear friend who can attest to that fact and has found out the hard way that you indeed are not.
Do your bit. Buy a red ribbon and practice safe sex. Buenos Aires raised awareness in 2005 by placing a ginormous pink condom over their phallac symbol, the Obelisk;
What will you do?
Hey I've just noticed that the intials for World AIDS Day is WAD... (I know,tiny things please tiny minds).
Do your bit. Buy a red ribbon and practice safe sex. Buenos Aires raised awareness in 2005 by placing a ginormous pink condom over their phallac symbol, the Obelisk;
Hey I've just noticed that the intials for World AIDS Day is WAD... (I know,tiny things please tiny minds).
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Mad (Wo)man
Despite my 'woo hoo' blog first thing this morning, I'm in a bit of a funk today. Have ten tonne thoughts swarming around my head and haven't slept properly in 2 days.
In a fit of madness and sadness, I logged into www.secretsinlace.com and bought myself some Joan Holloway-esque lingerie. Very Ooh la la. Not sure if I'll look like Our Joanie or Ooh La La-ish but perhaps the red satin will cheer this girl up.
Until then, I eagerly await my air mailed undies from the States. Naughty me.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Hand On My Heart, Head Up My Arse
I should write more often.
The last 3 or so weeks have found this girl on such emotional highs and lows. I blog my hopes and dreams only to have them dashed and then I'm too embarrassed to say that I caught the loser bus again. That's life -or at least my life- I guess and everyone who has read my stuff knows that.
Last time I actually wrote-song lyrics don't count here- was when I got asked out on a date. Said date didn't happen. Got the text about 90 mins before we were due to meet saying 'sorry can't do the gallery. I have to work'.. yeah right, whatever. I have seen him a few times since then but it was weird after the initial barrage of flirty,cheeky messages to have him change his mind and then nothing. In all reality, he is way too young for me or I'm too old for him but I still couldn't help feeling disappointed. I feel like I'm the butt of a joke in some sketch comedy show sometimes. That episode of The Simpsons where Lisa needs money to buy a copy of Bleeding Gums' album and she sees $100 note on the street. She goes to pick it up only to find it's attached to string and Mr Burns is driving away while Lisa's running to try and pick it up. That kind of sums up my efforts in the past year to couple up in some way.
So, new plan. Forget all that crap. It's not working anyway so therefore- a waste of time and good effort. It shouldn't be that hard anyway. I've decided to dedicate all my time and effort to myself. It's definatly going to be all about me. Those people who can't seem to make time for me, fine, I won't make time for you. I'm going to be so busy I won't be able to fit you in anyway.
I want a new life and I want it with the lot. I'm sick of being nice and accommodating all the time.
If you need me, I won't be here. The doctor is out.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Another Suitcase In Another Hall
Either I was born under a bad sign or I have and am never going to have – no luck in having a relationship with los hombres.
Last night, MM went out with the object of her desire. Admittedly, the girlish giddiness I initially felt had left the proverbial building but the interest or perhaps hope of things kicking off with him were still there. The night was going fabulously. He got to mine at around 6.30-ish and had a couple of brewskis before heading down to Quan 88 for some fabulous Vietnamese food. After chowing down on spring rolls, chilli squid and veg and bean curd with rice, we hailed a cab and headed for a night of salsa at the Night Cat with the fabulous latin band, Rumberos. We had time to have a good chat and get a couple of beers in before the band came on. MM was looking tres hot (may I say) in my saucy new red dress and fish nets and my ubiquitous red lippy. We made our move to the crowded floor and attempted some feeble yet effectual salsa moves and were really getting into it. After 3 or so songs, we admitted that the place was inundated with far too many 20 somethings and was too packed for us 40 somethings so we opted for quieter digs. I suggested Kanella bar down the road but were closing up when we got there so we crossed the road and ended up at the Spanish Bar. After grabbing a couple more beers, we moved into a booth and started chatting. In course of conversation, I asked him why his marriage had ended. I won’t publish it here as it’s highly personal. He then told me that he had a 5 year relationship with someone that didn’t end all that well but 2 weeks ago, she emailed him out of the blue. They caught up and…. now they’re back together!!
Jeezy creezy, how does that happen? When he uttered those words, I felt like it was happening to someone else. I just did the ‘oh wow’ and ‘oh, yes?’ etc etc and tried not to betray myself. I then started asking questions on the whole situation which gave me a deeper insight into him. I was concerned when he said he told her he had started doing tango in the last year and her response was ‘ Hmm I don’t know about that. Why don’t you choose another form of dance?” Thankfully his response was that he had no desire to do another form of dance. I then said in semi jest; “ We’ve just started our private lessons and she’s gonna take my dance partner away!’ in which he responded “ no that isn’t going to happen.” Good news for the MM. I’m wondering if any future scrag fights will ensue on the dance floor (cue Sophie Bexter Ellis).
We left the old Spanish Club (read were kicked out) and came back here for a cuppa and some of the chocolates my mum had given me (word of advice: avoid Guylian’s version of Favourites like the plague- disgusting). After a chat and bagging out said chocolates, he got in his car and went home. I sparked up the laptop, got into my jim jams and started watching the copy of Evita my nephew had lent me that day. So far, not good. I couldn’t concentrate anyway. I had a slight constriction in my throat and the sensation of an arrow in my chest. As I watched Madonna, Antonio and the rest of the gang singing away, I kept repeating the mantra of ‘I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry’.
Mercifully, I passed out at some stage and woke up with Madonna bleating out another song (oh yeah, musical- that singing shit never ends). I turned the blessed thing off and tried to slip back into unconsciousness but to no avail. I couldn’t get the fucking thoughts out of my head and the feelings of self doubt and being the old odd sock. I slipped in and out of sleep, heard the rubbish men as usual at around six, and had sleep of sorts till around 8. I pulled up the lap top and began writing this post as a word document (don’t have wireless yet and I’m still in bed) and decided ‘bugger it- I have to have that fucking cry.’ It wasn’t a big boo hoo hoo or a woe – is – me, more of a ‘here we go again’ but I realised as I let the emotion flow down my face, it wasn’t too bad. I’m in a better place than I was a year ago. These things happen as yard sticks and if I received this kind of news a year ago, I would have been totally gutted. I wouldn’t be writing this blog.
I guess I can take the clichéd positives from this situation. As a friend, he is a fabulous person. I now have a dance partner for my tango lessons so we can help one another perfect our technique of the dance we love so much. In reality, I don’t think we would work as a couple anyway but you can’t help being hopeful and I like that. It means you aren’t hardened or jaded. It means you still have passion for life and a need to reach forward for better things. It means you aren’t cynical and fatalistic about life. I love that I still feel hopeful even though most of my pursuits of coupling in the last few years have been paramount to a kick in the guts.
And the best thing I’ve learnt is- I’m fabulous and I deserve to be loved.
Last night, MM went out with the object of her desire. Admittedly, the girlish giddiness I initially felt had left the proverbial building but the interest or perhaps hope of things kicking off with him were still there. The night was going fabulously. He got to mine at around 6.30-ish and had a couple of brewskis before heading down to Quan 88 for some fabulous Vietnamese food. After chowing down on spring rolls, chilli squid and veg and bean curd with rice, we hailed a cab and headed for a night of salsa at the Night Cat with the fabulous latin band, Rumberos. We had time to have a good chat and get a couple of beers in before the band came on. MM was looking tres hot (may I say) in my saucy new red dress and fish nets and my ubiquitous red lippy. We made our move to the crowded floor and attempted some feeble yet effectual salsa moves and were really getting into it. After 3 or so songs, we admitted that the place was inundated with far too many 20 somethings and was too packed for us 40 somethings so we opted for quieter digs. I suggested Kanella bar down the road but were closing up when we got there so we crossed the road and ended up at the Spanish Bar. After grabbing a couple more beers, we moved into a booth and started chatting. In course of conversation, I asked him why his marriage had ended. I won’t publish it here as it’s highly personal. He then told me that he had a 5 year relationship with someone that didn’t end all that well but 2 weeks ago, she emailed him out of the blue. They caught up and…. now they’re back together!!
Jeezy creezy, how does that happen? When he uttered those words, I felt like it was happening to someone else. I just did the ‘oh wow’ and ‘oh, yes?’ etc etc and tried not to betray myself. I then started asking questions on the whole situation which gave me a deeper insight into him. I was concerned when he said he told her he had started doing tango in the last year and her response was ‘ Hmm I don’t know about that. Why don’t you choose another form of dance?” Thankfully his response was that he had no desire to do another form of dance. I then said in semi jest; “ We’ve just started our private lessons and she’s gonna take my dance partner away!’ in which he responded “ no that isn’t going to happen.” Good news for the MM. I’m wondering if any future scrag fights will ensue on the dance floor (cue Sophie Bexter Ellis).
We left the old Spanish Club (read were kicked out) and came back here for a cuppa and some of the chocolates my mum had given me (word of advice: avoid Guylian’s version of Favourites like the plague- disgusting). After a chat and bagging out said chocolates, he got in his car and went home. I sparked up the laptop, got into my jim jams and started watching the copy of Evita my nephew had lent me that day. So far, not good. I couldn’t concentrate anyway. I had a slight constriction in my throat and the sensation of an arrow in my chest. As I watched Madonna, Antonio and the rest of the gang singing away, I kept repeating the mantra of ‘I’m not gonna cry, I’m not gonna cry’.
Mercifully, I passed out at some stage and woke up with Madonna bleating out another song (oh yeah, musical- that singing shit never ends). I turned the blessed thing off and tried to slip back into unconsciousness but to no avail. I couldn’t get the fucking thoughts out of my head and the feelings of self doubt and being the old odd sock. I slipped in and out of sleep, heard the rubbish men as usual at around six, and had sleep of sorts till around 8. I pulled up the lap top and began writing this post as a word document (don’t have wireless yet and I’m still in bed) and decided ‘bugger it- I have to have that fucking cry.’ It wasn’t a big boo hoo hoo or a woe – is – me, more of a ‘here we go again’ but I realised as I let the emotion flow down my face, it wasn’t too bad. I’m in a better place than I was a year ago. These things happen as yard sticks and if I received this kind of news a year ago, I would have been totally gutted. I wouldn’t be writing this blog.
I guess I can take the clichéd positives from this situation. As a friend, he is a fabulous person. I now have a dance partner for my tango lessons so we can help one another perfect our technique of the dance we love so much. In reality, I don’t think we would work as a couple anyway but you can’t help being hopeful and I like that. It means you aren’t hardened or jaded. It means you still have passion for life and a need to reach forward for better things. It means you aren’t cynical and fatalistic about life. I love that I still feel hopeful even though most of my pursuits of coupling in the last few years have been paramount to a kick in the guts.
And the best thing I’ve learnt is- I’m fabulous and I deserve to be loved.
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