I think I love free things too much...

I know who I am but who are you? You're not looking like you used to.

My gran passed away on Monday. It was really sad but not unexpected, and in a way it's actually a good thing. She had Alzheimer's and she'd been gone for a while. It was hard to see her near the end, it shattered my heart. She was so scared and confused because she mostly had no idea who she was or where she was or what was going on around her. I cried a lot after every visit and when dad told me she'd passed away I cried for so long I started to worry I wouldn't be able to stop. I know that she was in so much pain and mostly not herself anymore and so I'm glad she's been 'set free' as people say, but she was my fav. I loved her so bloody much and so her death is still a brutally sad thing.

Recently I caught up with the Ex. As always, it was a fairly strange experience and though I feel like we've come a long way, there's still a ways to go before we can be 100% comfortable in each others company. but one thing that wasn't weird or negative was our conversation about our grandmas. we talked in great length about was how hard it is to see someone you love being whittled away by Alzheimer's. His gran has it too, so it was nice to talk to SOMEONE about it. He understood, I thought, and could relate to it all, I thought. I was wrong.

After the breakup he worked hard... really hard... at adopting the persona of Good Guy Extraordinaire. He said multiple times that he 'would always be there for me if I needed' and was always ready with a rational, albeit long-winded, rant about anything and everything I may potentially be struggling with. I never really bought into the whole concept that if I needed his support or advice that I could go to him for this. It felt wrong because what are we really? Friends? Acquaintances? Something more specific but also more complex? Yes probably that last one. But I never really felt like he was someone I could or would turn to in times of need. Until gran passed, and I  guess I was momentarily brainwashed by that last conversation, enough to think he'd be able to express genuine compassion for my loss. Silly little girl, will you ever learn?!

It's a little spooky that just as I was entertaining the thought of sending him an email, I received in my inbox an email from him! Crazy town, maybe we're soul mates after all?! KIDDING! hahaha. gotta lighten the mood, right?! But his email was just inquiring as to whether I'd seen this film yet that we'd previously talked about. I responded with...

"Haven't been yet, the night I was going to go (and this sounds so weak and girlie, please don't judge) it was crazy freaking cold, and I hadn't worn weather appropriate clothes/shoes to work that day so abandoned the whole idea and just went home and read a book in bed. How lame. hehe.

I then made a plan to go this thursday night with a friend, but now I'll be heading to the riverland that night instead. My gran passed away yesterday morning and the funeral is on Friday.

Will let you know when I see it though. :)"

I stupidly thought he would come through for me in this instance. I naively thought that he'd send some kind words back, something to say he understood the pain I was going through and maybe even reiterate some of the points we'd made about how shitty Alzheimer's is when we last met. I was less than impressed with the response...

"Sorry to hear that.  I hope everyone is ok."

One line. Two sentences. And he hopes 'everyone' is okay, not specifically me you'll note. He couldn't even start with 'I'M sorry to hear that'. In fact it could have been someone else who was sorry, he could have been apathetic. Heck, there's no 'could' here at all actually, I'm sure he's completely disinterested by this whole ordeal, and why wouldn't he be? He has zero emotional attachments to me, my family or my well-being, a fact he's been trying to make clear to me for ages, but one I was just too bloody idealistic to see.

I'm sure I'm not alone here when I say my brain and my heart never seem to be on the same page. Usually my heart is running the show, making all the decisions and dictating my behaviour while my brain tries fruitlessly to take the reins. My heart is the loud, obnoxious one that fuels all my mistakes, and then later on my brain is the one who goes 'I told you so, you idiot! Next time LISTEN to me. I know some stuff' and I vowel to next time listen. Mostly my brain is just a passive bystander when it comes to relationships. And by relationships I'm talking about every kind of relationship; Family, friends, acquaintances etc. For once though, both my misbehavin' heart and my lethargic brain seem to be united. Finally they agree on something. 

A while ago I decided I would only keep people in my life if they fit the following-

1. I respected them and they respected me.
2. They genuinely cared about me, in whatever capacity, and I them.
3. They were a positive influence on my life.
4. I never felt bad after spending time with them.

So far it's worked and has definitely improved my life. But why didn't I extend this formula to my 'friendship' with the Ex? Well, the truth is I actually didn't notice that he didn't fit the criteria until yesterday, the day of the email. It took his detached non-message to make me see that whatever it is we're trying to accomplish by remaining in touch, it is not right for me, not anymore. Maybe it never was. What I do know is that if he can't even summon an ounce of compassion, if he can't even bloody feign concern in a time he knows is tough on me, then what exactly are we doing? We're not coworkers forced to 'get along', we're not distant relatives who feel obliged to socialize, we're don't run in the same groups and so feel the need to make nice. We are just two people who used to date and before that used to be friends. We are just two people who have hurt each other and then healed. The difference is I'm not still trying to hurt him, in fact I never intended to hurt him at all, but I think he's still trying to hurt me. Back in the day, I loved him, and I guess the dregs of that love made me think we had something worth salvaging, in whatever way we could. I guess I thought I should be friends with him because it's not right to throw someone away who meant so much to you at one point. But I'm pretty sure it isn't the same for him. I can finally see that he's not trying to salvage anything, this is just a game to him and it's one I'm really not interested in playing. Also, no one told me the bloody rules before we started! That's not even FAIR!

Sometimes it takes something bad happening to realise who are the big characters in the story of your life and who are just the passing extras who flits around for about a chapter or so and then are never mentioned again. My heart and my brain both agree that the Ex is in that second category and not the first; as I'd previously thought. I'd be sad to lose a friend but honestly, I don't think he ever really was one. 

Dreams are plain weird!

Can anybody find me somebody to love?!

I totally believe that all that bollucks about not being someone til someone loves you is crazy. I absolutely think that you should be able to rely on yourself completely and not need anyone else to make you happy. And I adamantly declare that being in an unhealthy and unhappy relationship is far, far worse than being single. I am by all accounts one of those new-aged women who will preach the values of being independent til my throat is sore and dry (and not from the smoking or drinking for once). But now I’m going to say something that as a modern, empowered woman you are not supposed to say. I just want someone to take care of me. 

But before you grab your baseball bats and broken beer bottles, please hear me out. I’m not saying I want someone to come in and take control of my entire life and keep me from having to ever make a decision ever again, what I’m saying is that right now I’m craving some TLC. Just for a day or so I would welcome the warmth and security a partner would bring. Because life can be a little daunting sometimes, or in my case and due to the extreme levels of anxiety I am riding day after day, life can be daunting all the time. But mostly it’s controllable; I’ve worked out a way to talk myself off the ledge when things get tough. Although that’s always a pretty confusing conversation, about half way through I lose track of which one of me is the saner one, and then start trying to ‘out sane’ them both, which leads to a complex discussion on what ‘sane’ actually means. But in the back and forth of it all, the original problem is forgotten and I’m able to move on to more important tasks like writing swear words in Spanish on the fridge. Badda-bing-badda-boom! Crisis averted!

I think it’s a combination of being out every night for 3 nights in a row, lack of sleep caused by said going out and some rather confusing employment twists and turns this week, the fact that my bestie has started to spiral and doesn’t seem to want to help herself out, and all the usual things in life that confuse and depress me. I’m just tired. Really tired. It’s only times like these (and when I go to a concert and see all the smoochy, happy couples singing along on each other’s shoulders) that I think I want a relationship again. I’ve had some doozies of disastrous affairs, and I can’t honestly say that any of them were healthy for me, but there are definitely elements of each of them that I miss. Yes, even the most heinous of relationships, the ones that cause me to shudder and shake at the thought of them, even they had their moments. And the thing I miss most is the way that when I was really fragile and run down, there was one who’d make me smile again and then wrap me up in a hug that felt like an electric blanket set to medium encasing my body. It was just the right amount of warmth without suffocating me, and it made me feel momentarily like things would maybe be okay, and it worked like a shot of espresso to rejuvenate me temporarily, therefore giving me the strength to keep on trucking. I hate to say it but it’s just not the kind of hug you can get from a friend or family member. A hug from ol Smithy (mum) goes a long way towards it, but unfortunately it falls just short of that perfect embrace.

The good news for me is that this will certainly pass soon, once I get a proper night’s sleep (meaning more than 2 hours) and have a chance to breathe again. And honestly with the way my friend’s relationships are panning out lately, I’m not jonesing to go out and get me a lover any time soon. It seems like the most miserable people that I know right now are the ones in unhealthy, unhappy and completely wrong relationships. I get that being single is darn scary. I get that loneliness is not something any sane person would opt for, but sometimes it’s more lonely being in a relationship than it is being out of one. But I can’t make people see that, and I can’t get involved. Apparently I ‘can’t even understand’. Of course that’s ludicrous. Is the reason I can’t understand because I’ve never been in a relationship? Cos guess what, I have. Is it because I’ve never been in a difficult relationship that keeps me from understanding? Cos again, I have… plenty of times. Is the reason for my lack of identification that I haven’t been with someone who is emotionally, verbally or physically abusive? I hate to sound like a broken record here kid but… you know what?! I have. It’s not easy, I know. Love doesn’t just disappear when things get rocky, but in the grand scheme of things, how much pain are we willing to endure before we go ‘that’s it now. I’m nothing but scar tissue and open wounds. I think I need to stop this’. 

That being said, I’m truly sympathetic towards those people today who just can’t seem to break free from what really isn’t right. Because I know that a good spooning is not something to sneeze at. And I know that for today… and just for today… I’d give a lot to have that for myself. But much like the life span of milk, this pathetic emotion will soon curdle and I’ll throw it out with the rotting veggies I never got around to eating. And then I’ll go get some fish and chips, throw on some old school Pixies, write angry letters to food companies in hopes of getting sent some free samples, and then all will be right with the world yet again.

Secrets, Lies and Broken Trust

Every moral mother fucker out there is just mad for the truth. Honesty is the best policy, the truth will set you free, to thine own self be true… blah blah blah. I get the drill, and for the most part I agree. But I also believe that we all need some secrets; you know the little ones that we keep to ourselves for whatever reason. Maybe they show you as you were and not as you are now. Maybe they’re a little embarrassing… like you’re secretly hot for Donald Trump and NOT because of his money (can you imagine?!). Maybe the secret is just too important to you that you’re not ready to share it with anyone yet but hope that one day you will. Maybe your secret is something that would hurt someone, and maybe that secret doesn’t need to be out in the world at all and so there’s really no reason to bring it up. Whatever the reasoning there are legitimate motives for keeping certain secrets to yourself. It is because I care, and because I want to prove a point, that I will now reveal some secrets that I have kept to myself for the above reasons. Just so you can see what I mean….

•  When I was younger (although, embarrassingly, well into my teens) I hid a picture of Jeff Goldblum under my pillow and every night before I went to bed I’d tell that picture about my day and then kiss it goodnight. 
•  The first time I tried caviar I hated it so much that I couldn’t bring myself to swallow it, so instead I discreetly snuck off and spat it out in a pot plant. Then later I saw my cousin’s dog going mental at the pot plant and I didn’t say a word about it.
• I have never told anyone that I secretly hope I’ll be asked to be on the cover of FHM one day. I would say no, obviously, but I’d still like to be considered. It’s the same way I feel about being propositioned for a threesome by Will Smith and Jaden Pinkett- Smith.  
• I didn’t get my first pap smear until I was 25.
• I am pretty sure that one day I will be the creative director of a highly successful art/film/fashion magazine. I’m actually really sure of it.
• When I was younger and I was making the majority of my mistakes, I inadvertently set up two friends even though it was always going to end in a major shit storm. When they did inevitably break up my guy friend told me exactly why he broke up with my gal friend and I never ever told her why. It was too mean and so I kept it to myself. She still wonders to this day what happened.  
• There is a friend of my parents who gives me chills in the bad way. In one instance when I was getting a lift with him he got a bit too touchy feely with me. I said some really crass things to let him know it was not cool and he immediately stopped. He now knows not to ever try anything on me, but I haven’t told my parents and actively avoid ever having to be in the same room as him for too long.
• Sometimes, not often, but sometimes when I’m sure no one is going to see me, I make my favourite guilty pleasure sandwich. It is four different kinds of cheeses with a layer of pumpkin dip and roasted capsicum dip in between each cheese layer. I love it. But just like a man’s love for his tractor, it is not one that the world is ready to accept yet. And so we are only together sporadically and secretly. But one day… one day we will be together forever. 

So as you can see some secrets are meant to be kept. These are the ones that aren’t causing harm by being all hush-hush and they don’t weigh down your conscience or cause you anxiety. They are not hurting anyone and they are really just for you. Unless you decide to publish them on a blog. Then they are for you and the internet to keep. Luckily I’m pretty sure no one reads this blog except me, so these little gems are probably safe for a really long time. Til I get that creative director gig I’m no-so-secretly waiting on, of course, then they’ll be dug up by some competing Creative Director and used to push me out of my glorious position. But that’s bloody easy to solve, I’ll just say that someone made this blog in my name as a vindictive revenge attempt for never calling them after a mind-blowing sexual encounter. This way I will still look capable and professional while also notifying them of my amazing proficiencies in the boudoir. Win win! 

So now that I’ve argued for the affirmative, it’s time for me to put forward my view for the negative. Some secrets are not secrets, they are lies. And they hurt people.

Sometimes you need to keep something secret for a little while to give yourself time to get all your ducks in a row. This may be because you know that the reaction you’ll get will not be a good one. Maybe it’s because you want to make absolute sure of something before you go broadcasting it to the world. Maybe it’s a scary secret and you need to pluck up the courage to talk about it. I totally get postponing the reveal on the big secrets, really I do. But what I don’t get is the belligerent denial of something when asked about it by a loved one. This I don’t quite get.

There are two people in my life who have refused to tell me what is going on between them for over two years now. If they were just acquaintances, then I wouldn’t care. Really, I’d just shrug it off and move along with my life. After all, I have a lot of things keeping me busy at the moment. Like piles and piles of Cops episodes that I still haven’t watched. Or the bucket list I made years ago of inappropriate places to get drunk; I’m only up to letter G at the moment and my next one is ‘Golf Tournament’ so I have a lot to organise.  There’s also my busy candle-buying schedule which takes up a lot of my time and my storage space to truly commit to. As you can see, I have a lot on, so why would I even bother caring if these people didn’t matter to me? Honestly I wouldn’t. But they do matter to me. And the worst part is that it’s now just insulting that they haven’t confirmed their status. They don’t seem too concerned with hiding it by the way they behave in front of me, but they still won’t just come out and say “Yes we are dating” or “Yes we are in love”. It hurts me that they obviously think so little of me that they believe I don’t deserve to know. And it frustrates me that they expect me (and the rest of my family for that matter) to treat them like a couple while they vehemently deny any romantic feelings at all. 

I’ve gone over and over the situation in my head trying to work out why they’d still need to keep their relationship a secret but the thing is…  I can’t see a reason for it anymore. By keeping this secret they are lying and they are hurting people. And I’m sure they think it shouldn’t matter to us, that it’s not our business, that they don’t need to confirm anything, but that is absolute and utter bullshit! When you have people who love you and whose lives you are a big part of, those people generally want to be happy for you and share in your triumphs as well as your tribulations. I personally want to be able to dream of a brilliantly happy future for these two. I want to stop worrying that, like me, they get really lonely sometimes and wonder if they’ll be alone forever.  I want to stop pretending all the time that I believe they are just friends because god forbid I insult them by calling a spade a fucking spade! I don’t want to walk on egg shells around them. I want the friendships I had previously with these people back the way it was before all of this drama! I don’t want this lie in my life, and I feel like the resentment in me is growing so severe and fierce that one day it’s going to consume me and ruin these friendships. I have in the past been so affected by something someone has done that I shut myself off from them completely. And once that happens it’s like I can’t get back to a place where I care about them anymore. It’s like I’ve gone to their funeral, said my goodbyes, grieved for the appropriate time and then taken them out of my heart altogether. I don’t want this to happen with these two but I don’t think I can keep this bollucks of a charade up for much longer. 

And honestly, love is so fucking rare these days that if you find it wouldn’t you want to shout it from the hills? So many people I know are lonely or recovering from detrimental relationships or (and I think this is the worst) actually in a relationship that is making them miserable. So many people are in pain when it comes to the truly gruelling task of finding someone who makes you smile. Love is elusive and sometimes love is hard but love should be cherished and not taken for granted. I may not ever find true love; I may wander the earth trying to kid myself into thinking that deep fondness is what love is, because I’ve never had the real thing to know any better. Maybe I’ll have a sufficiently adequate relationship that doesn’t quite get there but comes close and keeps the loneliness from consuming me. Who knows what’s in store. But I’ll tell you this for nothing… if I ever fall in love and am lucky enough to have that person love me back the same way, I will not be hiding it from the people who care about me. I would never keep something that exquisite to myself. And I will respect my partner enough to want to incorporate them into my life completely, and I will respect my friends and family enough to share that important part of my life with them too. But maybe the only love I’ll ever know is the forbidden love between a woman and her cheese sandwich. But I guess there are worse things in the world too, so I’m still pretty lucky.

Sexy cardigans, ear hair, smelling like moth balls... you bet your ass I'm kickin it old school styles!

There are a lot of amazing things in this world that would be considered 'old fashioned'. Choosing NOT to wear underwear masquerading as shorts just cos Vogue says it's cool, for one. Eating dinner at 5pm so I have more time to yell and throw empties at kids from my front porch is another. And making a zine is yet a third. I know, I know... we don't need to do this anymore. We have the blogs. Like this one. But blogs are a part of that instant gratification/frustration species and once you've read them you move on. In a few minutes you can experience a plethora of emotions; excitement, joy, disgust, anger, apathy, nausea, arousal... heaps of things. But just as quickly as they came, they disappear. And then you're just as bored as you were before and if you're anything like me, you will then go back to your second favourite way to pass the time at work; playing a game I invented called 'Prank call Dave Coulier until he cries. Call Dave Coulier again and pretend to be John Stamos. Console him and then have phone sex'. Another downside of blogs is that just like this one.... blogs can only do so much with very little equipment. I'm sure that I would be able to create a more interesting and popular blog if I hadn't killed a majority of my brain cells during the great alcohol binge of 2006.... through to 2014. Lay off, okay?! I am self-medicating because I'm still trying to cope with the fact that Spaced will never have a season 3. And cocaine is like... really expensive!! So what's a gal to do? With zines though you get something real, something you have to wait weeks for, something you can hold in your hands and rub up against your face, something that you need to search for if you want to read it again. It's more work but oh so much more fun. 

I know that Zines are considered outdated by a lot of people. Fortunately, the amount of people who DON'T think zines are outdated is almost as much as the amount of zine-haters in this world. And by 'nearly' I of course mean 'not even remotely close even if we didn't count the people with large nostrils because obviously they are not actually real people'. The good news is that even though us Zineophiles are in small supply, we are still present. And we are mostly smiley people who accept criticism the same way we accept free food, with a smile and a single tear rolling delicately down our cheeks. It's pretty adorbs really, you'd find it endearing. But the point here is Zines are getting cool again. As proven by the upcoming Zine fair in Melb-town.... 

It's exciting! it's going to be just lousy with smiley Zinesters and adorable stalls. I'm pretty sure there's going to be a unicorn there, or two because it's a pretty big deal this fair.  AND I may or may not be correct in predicting that someone will be naked there. And by 'someone' I mean 'me'. Juuuuust kidding! I'll wear clothes this time. It's not worth the breezy freedom of going commando if someone gouges their eyes out like the last time. That law suit went on fooooorever! 

I'm especially excited about this year because:

1) I've never been. 

2) Laus will be there

3) I love Melbourne and any excuse to visit is golden

4) I'm unleashing my first every zine. YAY!

I've finally finished putting everything together for the release of my zine called #Potato Face. Which looks a little something like this....

Pretty high class, yeh? Not really. And I'm sure that the title is confusing. To understand it you'll need to get the zine. or ask me over a beer. Which you will buy. And I will drink. Deal? DEAL!