Looking for the perfect man?

Handsome. Intelligent. Teetotaler. Non-smoker. Graduate. Rich. Respectable. Well mannered. Charming.

According to the 250 marriage proposal ads in the newspaper last Sunday, almost all posses the above criteria. Even the divorced 50 – odd -year -olds are distinguished –looking. Intelligent. Teetotalers. Non-smokers. Graduates. Rich. Respectable. Well mannered. Charming.

Had I only intently read the papers a year ago, I wouldn’t have wasted my time looking for the ‘perfect man’ at social dinners, company functions and walked for that ‘save-the-people’ charity walk!

SIGH!

Money Matters

The bible says that the love of money is the root cause of all injurious things. I think it should read the lack of money is the root cause of all injurious things.

Please nod in agreement!

You’ll always be my shadow

Seven years of commitment. Seven years of dealing with his shit. Seven years of waking up to the sound of his voice. Seven years of picking up after him. Seven years of cuddling and sloppy kisses.

Seven years is a long time to be in a relationship. But just the other day, we went out for a walk and since we were feeling experimental, we decided that a different trail was a good idea. Half an hour later, and three streets away from our home we stop and stare at the traffic situation in the sky. I’m amused, him not so, as myriads of birds fly in different directions, some to their homes, others in search of lost flocks.

The weather is changing, the blue sky turns gray, the wind picks up momentum as I pick up pace. Suddenly I decide to enjoy it all, the rustling, the soft pelts of raindrops, the refreshing air. So I sit on the pavement and gesture for him to come join me. Apprehensively he sits down, we watch.

In the distance the thunder starts to roar. He edges closer, he never understood the concept of thunder or crackers so I put my arms around him reassuringly while I tell him that they are wonderful things and that sometimes being scared is okay. I quickly bury my face in his neck as I feel tears prick my eyes. It’s a strange sensation as I realize how much I love him and how much I would miss him when he leaves. With grubby hands I wipe away the tears, hoping that the few people who witnessed our amorous behavior would think I was simply wiping the rain off my face.

I look at him and dare him to beat me home, he is eager. So I lengthen his leash and together we run through the storm, homeward bound.

Bitterness

You look at me with troubled eyes,
hoping I would ask you why.

The truth is I don’t want to know,
about the twisted lies, sleepless nights and rows.

I’ve told you what I think,
deep honest answers that makes you flinch.

While you smoke and blink away the tears,
(and I passive smoke, just because I like to, dear)
I sometimes hope it will burn out your fears.

A piece of advice,
honest and completely uncivilized.
Don’t try to be me, N or the guy with the goatee.
We all have our battles and we’re definitely not free.

Not lucky, not good,
not beautiful but maybe a little unique.
So are you, which you don’t want to believe.

We don’t have magical solutions,
escape routes or places to hide.
Learn to state your turf and learn to fight.

Suicide is for cowards, I’ve told you twice,
Thrice if necessary, but don’t start to cry.

Someday, maybe someday soon
all the clichés,
the turning of the tide,
the rainbow after the rain,
the cloud with the sliver lining
will come true and you will laugh at your own surprise.

NOTE: It wasn’t an attempt at poetry, most of it just rhymed so I went with the flow but it sure was an attempt at venting.

It’s over

He was one incompetent moron!

He was immature!!

and hopeless…

As you can see I’ve thought long and I’ve thought hard about this…he wasn’t all of the above (strike that). Ok I’ll be honest, he was immature but certainly not incompetent and definitely not hopeless. We pulled through, partner and I and made it as 1st runner up (that’s running to win a free trip to France) and as second best we head in the opposite direction. Yippee!!

Ah this was going to be a long rambling post about how much I suffered during the competition, how ill I was with worry and frustration but I think I’m going to lay off the drama. I do have a few congratulatory notes and a round of thanks.

First up, Tall One. I’m proud of you and extremely happy, and at the same time insanely jealous that you get to see France and Venice before I do. So anyway au revoir, amusez-vous bien and also while you’re at it find an un homme too (is it me or does that sound retarded??)

N won her first Silver and Bronze and I’m thrilled to bits about it. Cheers girl, you deserve it!

Special thanks to Cookie for being a sport. You really are amazing for putting up with a bunch of ad people without mortally wounding them and especially for putting up with my whining, grumpiness and hysteria. Oh Pokey you too are remembered, thanks so much for making me go through this ordeal and without your constant drilling I just might have been a quitter.

Now that it’s over, onto more important work…