Channelling Carrie # 2

I managed to crawl out for a wee drink with newly single bi girl (NSBG) on the weekend, and memo to self must remember that when she says she's wearing a dress, she means a DRESS. I thought I was being totally girly in Roisin Dubh , but NSBG totally out femmed me. I felt almost butch, well as butch as one can with pink lipstick.

As a tiny little digression NSBG has managed to achieve a feat which I can't talk about yet, but which amuses me greatly. The only hint is that the toaster is being couriered as we speak, and it was bloody hard trying to score a notch in the side. I still think I should have included razor blades for use in the future.

However, one of our topics of discussion over the evening was "how soon does one attempt the post breakup getting back in the saddle shag?" Now I know this WAS a storyline on SATC and I could probably find a link to it, but I really can't be bothered right now.

Of course with the girls in SATC it is all about the hetero world so obviously it's much easier to achieve. If one is swimming in the Lesbian pool however it can get a bit fraught as the concept alluded to below applies, and the post breakup getting back in the saddle shag of course precludes any idea of ever meeting again. One then has to think about shagging "out of town" (tho history tells me this can be unsafe as well) and start trying to line up work schedules, children timetables, flight availability, to see if it can happen. All very complicated and awkward and hardly conducive to the "heat of the moment" vibe needed for such trysts.

I fear the true result will be to open another bar of chocolate and retire to the comfort of the sofa.

Channelling Carrie

Bradshaw that is!

As you all know over the last 2 months my life and domestic situation has undergone an upheaval. I've not posted any of the gory's cos that's really not what this blog is about. However...... the claws are out for a tiny bit now. Miaow.

Over this last week the child and I have had the bliss of our lovely home all to ourselves as the "ex" (a very common lesbian term) has moved out, and the new flatmate is still to move in. The only blur on the domestic bliss is that the "ex" has moved to a property barely a block away, and as my house has windows all along the northern face, with no curtains on the ground floor, her new home is centre view. I can see it from the kitchen when prepping, I can see it as I walk past the huge picture window in the dining room, I can see it when I open my bedroom curtains in the morning. As you can imagine this does not please me as where ever I wander in my favourite city fringe suburb, there it is in my face.

So I've been having some very Carrie Bradshaw thoughts about it, I imagine they could have done an entire episode of SATC on the question, which is, "what is the acceptable distance for the ex to move to when they move out?"

This musing of course was spurred by seeing the headlines of the Sun Newspaper yesterday saying that Madonna wants a divorce. I'm sure Guy will move out of her immediate view, but then I guess Madge also has curtains. And no, don't tell me to get curtains as I rent, and apparently the no curtains is an "integral part of the interior design".

I am bereft

I have mislaid my favourite pencil, and 2nd favourite pencil (which is of course identical to first favourite only shorter) is not good enough.

How am I going to check off the weeks invoices if I don't have my favourite pencil?

This of course means that my office has returned to shambles and OCD treatment possibly needs to be revisited.

Random Musings

Random Musing #1

There is a saying in the Gay world which goes like this:

Q: What do gays do on their second date?
A: What second date?

Q: What do Lesbians do on their second date?
A: Move furniture in together.

Personally I have found that I can usually survive the first date, simply by making it very clear there will be no second date. In my mind I usually substitute the word date for shag, but I've always survived that by shagging out of town and NEVER giving out my phone number. There is of course a sub story in this random musing but as I don't air dirty laundry, or in this case clean laundry, I no tell. I am however having my first night out as a single woman this weekend but as I'm taking freshly single bi woman with me I am safe. All the hot young dykes will think we're a femme couple and stay well clear.

Random Musing # 2

I've had an email from baby AV techie dyke saying there is a meeting of the Wellington Polyamore group coming up if I was interested in attending, she did stress that they only talk! The meeting is on a Sunday which of course amuses me, and I do so hope it's held in a church hall. Charlotte if you happen to be in town you may like to attend.

Dontcha just love it

The break up diet that is!

I wasn't aware that I was actively on the diet as I've been eating my normal amount of food including regular (read excessive) amounts of chocolate, however a tidy amount of weight has departed my frame. Maybe it just comes as part of the package, an add on you get even though you haven't applied.

Normally I would be pleased, but I've had to wear a long jacket today as the saggy bottom on my trousers is NOT ATTRACTIVE. It means I will fit my "thin" jeans now, but as they have extra wide flares and are out of fashion I can't wear them.

On a completely different note I fear I have reached a new level of gullible, when will I learn? However I have managed to fix the stupid stupid thing I did to the computer so the child's wrists are safe, she can surf again.

Oooh, and speaking of child, I think the school sent the wrong one home yesterday. Well actually they can't have because I picked her up as she was ill, but when I got home I found that WITHOUT asking she had cleaned the bathroom sink, wiped down the cook top, and then when I was prepping dinner asked if there was anything she could do. I'm liking this.

Clean Wall

The prickly one has been hassling me as to whether I have taken a certain picture down off my office wall. As I fear she doesn't believe me here is proof that it is gone.

Picture off the wall yes, Jillian off the desktop, NEVER !

Find me a Brick Wall

I had a large video conference/webcast event about a month ago, I think it was to publicise the record profits made from my personal beer consumption, however over the last week I have been tidiying up the final charges with all parties involved.

Below is a sample of some emails and responses.

From myself:
Hi everyone,
Please see the email below that was sent yesterday. As our server was dropping in and out all day, and I haven't heard from anyone I assume you haven't received it. P could you please confirm if the $1507.10 you quoted in an earlier email is included in the $1963.96 Telecom charges below, or if it is addtional to it.

W

The response from P was:
Yes it is.

Am I just being too anal?

Bleedin Taggers

About 6 weeks ago the council had the naughty boys go around several of our city fringe suburbs and paint over all the tags, it was part of some humiliation process written about in a local paper but I can't find a link to it. However they used a lovely mauve/grey paint which one assumes was donated as no one in their right mind would ever paint anything that colour, or else it was chosen by a colour blind male who thought it was concrete coloured.

I used to have a small piece of tagging on the street level retaining wall outside my house, but this got covered with a large oblong of mauve. I have no idea when it was done, it just appeared one day along with the other hundreds in the neighbourhood. I couldn't make up my mind which was more unsightly, the wee tag that used to be there or the patch of paint.

Of course as you can imagine this isn't going to deter your average tagger as as expected it has been tagged again. I now have 3 times more tagging on the wall than was ever there before, but bless their little cotton socks, they've kept it all within the lines!

Diary of a Woman on a Mission

Thursday 12 June:
4pm, server dropped out again, had enough back to plan A and a run. Check staff and booze, check gmail, start shut down, aim for 4.30 out. 4.28 Front desk ring saying there's a random walk in, race downstairs. Yes conferences blah blah, lots of rooms blah blah, 200 pax blah blah, no can't check dates server down, here's my card, email me. 4.45 Depart, catch a good worm hole in traffic and home in 10 minutes. Change, put beers in fridge, back to car and gym. Enter gym and head for treadmill and start running. Oh look all boys again, no wait, that ones not, it's new androgynous chick. She's doing weights but she's got layers of clothes on. Take ya clothes off woman so we can see your muscles, oooh she's heading over here, did I say that out loud? She's getting on the treadmill next to mine. Oh no now I look like a poser as I've just wound my speed up for a sprint section. No darling, not trying to impress you, just running. Finish run, cool down, weigh myself. Oh my, that's a nice number, quick mental calculation BMI under 24, wrists safe, throw razor blades away. Race to car, supermarket to change light bulbs. Child wants razor, can't find the guaranteed to always shred legs variety so have to buy normal safety ones. Car, drive, damn forgot chocolate. Oh well feeling virtuous with weight loss, don't need chocolate. Home, text text, please bring chocolate on way home, accept short term virtuous syndrome. Check beers, move some to freezer. Start cooking, chop chop, stir stir, scrub. Start child's hair, mix mix, foil, weave, foil, weave, on and on, lowlights done. Mix, mix, foil, weave, foil, weave, highlights done. Mash, grate, assemble, throw dinner in the oven. Rescue beer from freezer, open and run to the sofa just in time to MISS THE OPENING CREDITS AND NOT SEE THE HOT SHOT OF JILLIAN.

Please someone tell me you've recorded it for me.

Bye Bye Jillian

It's the final of The Biggest Loser tonight which means no more Jillian for another year, how will I cope.

I had my evening all planned, get out of here early, do a quick 5k, then back home for sofa, beer, pizza, chocolate and Jillian. However, as usual, work has thwarted that somewhat. Bloody clients, bloody cocktail functions, I foresee some vigorous delegation on my part this afternoon. And now I've just remembered the child wants me to put in two tone highlights and lowlights in her hair tonight ready for a party (with alcohol) on the weekend. The day is going downhill.

Oddly I don't want to give up my run, I'm getting cranky, endorphins getting low, and don't tell me to get up at the crack of dawn and run before work because that is just advanced torture.

However, I must remember to tape the intro to the show this evening so I can replay incessantly the shot of Jillian doing a one armed press up. Please note the word TAPE. If one of you kind readers out there with your fancy dvd recorders could record it and send it to me I would be eternally grateful. It would complete the Jillian collage on my desktop.

Now back to weaving my mat of straightened paperclips........

Lifes tough sometimes

I had just finished having a catch up chat with one of my staff, discussing very important topics like how sore my muscles are from my heavy workout yesterday, when the owner of the in house spa came into my office.

"Oooh", she drawled in her breathy tones, "do you have 15 minutes to spare for a massage so I can show the girls some new techniques?"

Well whats a girl to do? Now I just want to go home and have a little snooze, but people seem to think that because I'm here I should be working!!

Who is John?

When I turned my phone on on Sunday morning I received a most unusual text. I am now going to transcribe the full conversation.

Random Texter (RT): Hey sexy gurl what u up 2
Moi: Who is this? and if you say it's a wrong number I promise I'll slash my wrists
RT: Hey i havnt txt da rong number im just trying 2 sleep sexy didnt go 2 bed til 6am
Moi: Show off, and yr name is
RT: Marcus
Moi: Who are you? and how did you get my number? Do you even know who I am?
RT: a m8 gave me ur numba said u were realy hot an funi
Moi: And yr mate is? How old are you? This is bizarre
RT: Lol 19 his names john
Moi:You def have the wrong number, I am sexy and hot, but also the same age as Madonna and with the same amount of kids
RT: And thatz a problm y i dnt mind
Moi: Now I need to find who John is.Go back to sleep junior. I like my women hot and muscley and my men RICH and clever
RT: Rich u say hahahahahahahaha du u know who i am im rich wel my dad iz so i am 2 kum on baby i kan buy u wateva u want
Moi: oh yr such a tease tease tease
RT: wil u keen baby.........il buy u wateva u want
Moi: I see you ignored the word clever
RT: Lol im dat 2 uda wise i wuldnt own 3 houses
Moi : Have a bottle of Krug, NV is ok, delivered to W G*** @ XXXXXX. Do not contact me again. When I have received the wine I will text you.

That ended the conversation. Now of course the main question is "Who is John?" and "why did he have my number and pass it on to a child?"

And yes I know what you're all going to ask, if the wine turns up am I going to do a Mrs Robinson?

Addendum:

I received this text late Monday afternoon:

RT: Ur mean da least u culd du iz be nice fuk it dealz off il just find another olda chick 2 please

Moi: I'm mean? Gosh if you wanna play wif hot older women you gotta learn a whole new set of rules. Bye bye junior league.

Oh well I guess that means no Krug. Gutted, cos I had my eye on a nice set of Swarovski flutes to drink it out of.

Cyber Help

Since the cyber world has come to my rescue before I thought I'd give it another try.

As you all know sorting my accommodation is my number 1 priority right now and I'm starting to panic. I've been praying furiously to the Goddess of nice flatmates, and the Goddess of fabulous and gorgeous yet surprisingly cheap rentals, but no one is answering. (maybe they're jealous cos I've got Nataraja sitting in prime position at the moment, should really move cos dancing isn't high on my priorities right now))

I really don't want to leave my lovely cosy house as it's so sunny, spacious and comfortable, but I'm having no luck finding a flatmate. So while I'm going through that process, I'm also looking at rentals and scarily I'm now considering spending over 52% of my income on rent. A very very scary thought.

So if anyone has any ideas, or can help in any way, just comment as it goes to my email.

Gutter Minds

To those of you who's brains are stuck in the gutter my post below and the one from Cactus are about DATING. You know, people, food, wine, conversation. Somewhat like what a Corporate wife does but without the strings, nagging and money drain.

The S...E...X word does not come into it, I mean, for goodness sake, why would I want to have sex with a man when history has proved to me repeatedly that no man can satisfy me sexually. I have been living a full lesbian life for the last 8 years and have the skills and equipment (if I desire) to keep myself sexually satisfied, so like a Corporate wife, why would I want to shag a man?

However, if the S....E....X concept should arise, naturally full market rates would apply. And yes Cactus as my pimp you will get your cut.

Mission Impossible.......Never!!

I've had a couple of emails with the Prickly one of late over my current change of circumstances, as naturally she is dead interested in where does one go from here.

As I've stated below, I'm OVER women, and that is O...V....A...H.........over!! I figure the passion to head fuk ratio is just not worth it. This of course does not mean that I'll stop my social life and getting on with having fun, which I fully intend to pursue with lashings of zeal once the current dramas have passed.

Naturally I have pondered the aspect of the male of the species, which is where Cactus comes in. I have no intention of pursuing a "relationship" ever again, but I am available for no strings dates. My years of being a company wife mean I am an excellent escort when someone needs the "plus one", or if one has a business dinner that is just too dreary they can take me along and I will sparkle and amuse all. (tattoo display by prior arrangement only)

So, I have charged Cactus with the task of finding me the perfect male for these types of outings. My needs are quite simple. He needs to be a lawyer, preferably, and practicing in an interesting field. Tall......that is 6' 2" minimum in bare feet, 8' when standing on his wallet, and his looks have to be somewhere in the spectrum of Mr Clooney to Mr Big.

I don't think the task will be too hard, and I look forward to what offerings she sends my way.

New Trend

I see all the women's trash magazines are saying that Madonna and her hubby are splitting.

Now I know us 58'ers like to be trendsetters and all, but really Madge that is just so LAST WEEK.... I did it first.........(well I didn't really, my split up is actually number 4 to have happened to people I know in the last 4 weeks)

Somehow I think the details of the Madge and Guy division will be far more riveting then my "who gets to keep the wok" story.