...so long 2013 and thanks for all the fish

Dear 2013, 

I know we only got to know each other briefly in the last year but I have to admit I will be glad to bid you farewell, no offence.

You were that house guest you know the one, that eats you last bit of bacon in the fridge, leaves the bread packet open so the loaf goes stale, leaves the toilet seat up and never cleans up after themselves.  Sure we had some good times I'll give you that....but you tested me.

So good things...

• I got to see my family and dear friends (who I miss so much) and got some much needed sunshine, and remembered a tad too late that one (especially with freckles and fair skin) can burn on an Aussie beach in under 15 minutes.  Relaxed in a hammock with a gorgeous mountain view and drank and ate far too much or maybe just the right amount :)
• There was my wonderful birthday weekend with my amazing friends.  
• A cycling weekend in Norfolk (thank the universe for flat countryside) where I found the most incredible pork pie I have ever eaten and was spoilt rotten with the most hospitable company of Panda and the Bossy Blonde.  
• Walking across the O2 was pretty incredible my party was super and made ever so special by my brilliant friends and my amazing present that everyone rallied around to get.  
• I completed London to Brighton with an amazing friend and learnt that there isn't enough padding to ease that kind of '54 mile' pain and also learnt that no one will come and collect  you at the half way point in a helicopter or limo no matter how much you put that begging energy into the universe.  Finding out that, that begging energy can come across as whiny when you kick the dirt and refuse to get back on your bike (so I have been told ;))
• Learnt how to open my heart and fell deeply, head over heels, knock your socks off in love for the first time in years and had some of the most amazing romantic weekends away and not away. 
• I went on a holiday with two very hilarious and intelligent mates and saw the beautiful beaches of Gran Canaria, ate fabulous food,cemented my relationship with Sangria and realised my lifelong ambition of dancing on a stage with a pole.  Career options open ;)I also learnt that very crucial life lesson that vodka can be 'too cheap' and one can drink 'too much of too cheap' vodka.
• I found a new sport I really enjoy...indoor rock climbing here I come.
• I got to spend Christmas in Germany seeing new stuff (I do love travel)with my very dear friend who I adore and making a new friend, you can never have too many ;).

Actually truth be told 2013 for the first half of the year you weren't that bad we connected, we worked together well, it was smooth.  I thought we might even be friends and I was very excited about getting to know you better.

Then as it often goes one thing led to another, words were spoken and we ceased to see eye to eye.  For reasons unknown to me you started murkying (OK maybe that's not a word, but I'm going with it) my New Year's resolutions and goals and that's when it all started to go downhill.  You would probably argue 2013 that I made my own choices that life is what you create but I  blame you 2013 for the carnage that you allowed to unfold.  The motto 'whatever doesn't kill makes you stronger' was your mantra and lesson of choice.  I almost feel guilty for shaming you on line like this because you would probably argue with me that it was a 'learning experience'.

So what did you teach me 2013?

• Friendship and loyalty. I've said it before and I'll say it again....you taught me that hands down my friends are my best feature, in that respect I am well and truly blessed.  I could not in all good faith think of a way to thank my friends for the love and support and patience (I can not forget patience....I mean honestly, collectively my friend's tolerance has reached a whole new level).
• Strength, at this point I'm totally picking out my Marvel comic book/graphic novel superhero name.
• Trust in my gut instinct, you can talk to others until you're blue in the face but it's those voices that whisper to you in the middle of night, they are the ones that you ultimately listen to.  You can't escape yourself (says the girl whose travelled around the world in the passionate attempt to do just this).  
• New experiences are key, you never stop growing and learning. Some of those experiences are hard, painful and challenging but you have to believe they make you in to a better version of you Mel 2.0 and this can take place at any age and you need to be open to this.
• Forgiveness of yourself, life is hard sometimes you make mistakes, sometimes you have done absolutely nothing wrong and it still goes kaka....and that's OK, you will survive. Just keep breathing. It seems silly/ridiculous/irrational to be crueler to yourself than you would be to your own worst enemy.  Easy advice to give, harder to live by.

So I welcome 2014 with open arms, hopeful that it will be an improved version of 2013 with new positive adventures, excitement, love and loads of sunshine, rainbows, unicorns and happiness.

Looking back on this blog I realise that you weren't so bad 2013, maybe I judged you too harshly. Lessons were learnt I might just thank you for them in 2015, I'll get back to you on that one 2013, we'll catch up, have a drink and laugh uproariously at our shared history.

All the best,

Melissa

Communication is Key.

So here I go again....

.....after two years of not writing.

This blog started as a travel blog, damn I love travelling.  I know I probably have written this a million times in this blog (I do like to exaggerate :) so maybe it is just a few hundred).  I am truly in my element when I am travelling, I rarely get phased and relish new adventures, meeting new people, seeing new things and experiencing the variety of tastes, sights and sounds that comes along with that amazing ride. It's like throwing a fat kid in a candy store, without the gag reflex riding up in the back of your throat as you realise they have just stuck their sausage like phalanges back into a full jar of sweets after having them smeared in spittle because there just isn't enough room in their engorged face hole to consume the amount of candy they need to compensate for the dark cavernous emptiness that is the memory flash back of the overt disappointment of their parents expressions on sports day when they have just won another ribbon for being a good sport.

Why I have been rubbish....

So I felt that on my return I didn't really have anything to write about and was in danger of this becoming another 'feminist moany,ranty blog'....not that that's necessarily a bad thing.  I think we need to rant, express ourselves, vocalise our emotions, share our anguish, our happiness. It is OK to be angry, vocalising your emotions stops them from building up, waiting 30 days for a gun license and then hurting people....sssshhhhhh internal monologue. I don't think we do this nearly often enough.  Being an Australian in London has sometimes been difficult, I am not great at 'keeping a stiff upper lip' (to put it mildly) or not wearing my heart on my sleeve.  Like I have said repeatedly on this blog everything I am thinking is written all over my face, so even if I do lie to you (which I am appalling at), my face could potentially be telling you a completely different story.  

I am hopelessly human....

We are emotional creatures, we are not infallible things seep through the compartments (sounds gross doesn't it like packing custard in box), it's inevitable, it's biology, chemistry and all those annoying neuron type scenarios that fire off when you least expect or want them to. I have never been ashamed by my feelings (although sometimes frustrated at my lack of my control of them, there isn't enough yoga, meditation or chanting that will shut this gob up it's even worse when you add alcohol, spin a few times, light and throw and hey presto! Melotov Cocktail...see what I did there ;)).  My honesty has got me in to more trouble than it has got me out of.  Trust me when people say they appreciate, love or admire your honesty....DO NOT LISTEN they don't actually think for a second you will actually be honest.....but I just can't stop myself, it's like a drug or a very meaty sandwich to me that I just have to sink my teeth into. ;) 

I am unbelievably vulnerable but have often found myself apologising for this to ease others discomfort and worst sin of all pretending I'm not...I am so very tough, HA! I do believe everybody is in the same boat as me or maybe not....(Melissa turns to the basketball with the smiley face drawn on it and moves it in an agreeing nodding motion). Maybe I am just too self aware and although this leads me to occasionally being overtly self critical, I'd rather this than live a life ignorant to my own feelings and those of others.  I am awake and aware, I refuse to sleepwalk through this one amazing life I have.  So watch me cry, yell, laugh, point and judge, you lot do it in your heads I'll get up on the stage under the spotlight....what's the worst that can happen cue: sound of crickets echoing in an empty theatre.

So I will start writing this blog again and will not change the title as “A journey of a thousand miles must always begin with a single step" any journey whether it be travelling or not starts with a single step, life being the most important, massive journey that it is(that Lao Tzu knew what he was talking about). Sometimes smooth with the breeze at your back and the sunshine warming your face and sometimes bumpy, cold, uphill and you find without your knowledge that some fucker has changed your gears to the hardest level.  This is where the learning curve comes in right? You know for next time, better tyres, slower pace and lower gears.  You are in control this is your life, your ride, your choice why make it hard on yourself?  

So I will continue to write about what I know I'm good at writing about, you lot, life and all the shit that goes with it.  Why? Because y'all fascinate me and disturb me in equal measures, the paradox of the human race....if  you're lucky and I'm even luckier there will be more travelling (South America being top on my list), adventures and hilarity....with occasional bouts of rage, sarcasm and reality.

My access to the internet

I have no laptop, it broke, a while ago...hence my 3 month blog apathy I need to buy a new one as this no laptop scenario is totally effecting me more than I thought possible.

I always used to say "yeah I'm not addicted to anything, there's nothing you could take away from me that really wouldn't bother me", this is said in a squeaky Cartman style voice by the way.

So my not buying a new one was not just only a financial thing it was also me trying to prove to myself that I wasn't addicted to my laptop.  Stubborn creature that I am.  

How's that working out for you?  I hear you ask. Not to good.

The reasons I miss my laptop...

1. It was my connection to my friends and family that live too far away for my liking.
2. It was entertainment when the TV isn't available
3. It enabled me to sit in my room and not socialise (on those less sociable days)
4. It facilitated my access to my other addictions of social networking and online shopping (yeah OK I'm fallible and a liar :))
5. It was pretty...hee hee

So now that I have proven to myself that I am not really that addicted I should buy a new one before I go nuts, shouldn't I?

I also could do with a visit to BA (Bacon eaters anonymous) if  I'm putting all my cards on the table.

They're only getting younger....

Today I went to the London School of Osteopaths on the advice of a colleague cause I've been having trouble with my neck and shoulder...who knows why, it could be age or my ass (we'll get back to this one later :)) I thought why not go here, it helps students learn and is cheaper than a regular osteopath.  Brilliant win, win right? 

So I walked in to the reception and almost immediately heard my name called looked up and two 'boys' barely over the age of 20 something came out to the reception area to collect me.  

They take me into one of the clinical rooms where they start taking my history, my history that is older than Methuselah and both of them put together.  I had underpants on older than this pair (another mortifying realisation when asked to strip down).

So anyways after asking me quite a few embarrassing questions...e.g. Are my poos loose? How regular is my cycle? (how do these boys know about periods)

I then was asked to strip down to my underwear, my old cotton pants while they talked to their supervisor. They'd just be gone for 10 minutes they said, the thing with time is that 10 minutes whilst hanging out with a mate and supping nice glass of wine, well it just simply zips by doesn't it?  When you're in your bra and pants, old pants waiting for people, young professional people in the next room to finish your consultation well the bastard just drags by.....it's like being caught in a horrific time loop, so I put my trousers back on cause I just felt so damn awkward. 

So here's me with my old, fat cellulite laden ass and my very messy bikini line emerging out of my pants, ha ha emerging that makes it sound like something delicate and shy not the horror out of control garden that I was looking down upon.  The voices were screaming in my head 'why didn't I wax last night !!!!???' 

You would think this was the end of my humiliation oh no.....I then had to bend over for them to check my posture (while I imagined they were sniggering behind their hands and doing that finger down the throat motion) whilst he suggested in technical terms that the size of my arse put strain on my back.  This is of course not what he actually said (he was a consummate professional, they both were)but is what the most mental, female part of my brain heard.  Baby has got back indeed. He also said 'she has good mobility' what I heard was 'for someone of her age'. 

Would it have bothered me as much if they were young females, yes without a doubt.  I don't think this was a gender thing it was more an age phobia.  I generally don't consider myself vain but I've also never been one to lack in body confidence, I think I'm doing pretty good for my age (if I do say so myself). But the thing about youth, as lovely as it is (and I do like looking upon its freshness) I quite frankly prefer to be fully clothed around it, especially when I'm stone cold sober and in that amount of lighting.

So next week I have to go back and I will be wearing bigger pants and whipper snippering the rabid outback.  Oh and trying to silence the voices.....

A new breed of dog

Apparently they are called 'honest players' or so I have been told.  These are men (I guess they could be women just as easily but rarely)who cheat on their girlfriends/wives....yadda yadda and tell you straight off the get go that they have girlfriends/wives...yadda yadda.  

Hmmm why would these HP's do this?  You ask...

Well then when you turn around at any point and bitch that you don't get enough; commitment, love or attention they can say, "Well sweetheart I did tell you I had a girlfriend/wife.." you get the point?  It's your choice if you enter into this situation you've been given full disclosure and there is no recourse for ignorant bliss.

Who are the women that facilitate this you ask, are they women who don't respect themselves or the 'sisterhood'?  What kind of nasty bitch would hook up with a bloke that already has a girlfriend?  Does she not feel guilty?  Why can't she get her own boyfriend/husband/object of meat?

See what I did there?  

I blamed the woman, and that's what most of society does as well.  Whenever any of my female friends cheat on their partners or hook up with a 'taken' man, I don't ask why, I don't care, I just say becareful.  

If you get caught you will be blamed, you will get labeled with the scarlet letter.  We historically and socially accuse the female of the species of this sexual indiscretion, is this because we expect more of women?  Boys will be boys and all that shit.  Do we assume that women have a lower sex drive and therefore are less likely to cheat?

So many questions and very few answers.  I can only come and this from my cynical perspective.  So I'll try to answer as clearly and concisely as I can. :)

They respect themselves.

There is no loyal sisterhood, it doesn't exist, there's women who are loyal and love you (your friends) and women who don't (your competition).

I know quite a few.

Guilt is easily compartmentalised and often overrated.

She can, but probably doesn't think it's worth it, considering what's on offer.

We do expect more of women it's the whole Christian, social mother/virgin scenario, it's outdated and boring.

Yes we assume in our culture women have a lower sex drive, newsflash we don't. 

'Honest Player' bless them, a dog is still a dog, new breed or not.  But it's your choice to make, not theirs, whether you become one of the bitches in their pack.

“I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep everyone's expectations.” - Bill Watterson

Fairy Tales...

But when the witch bent down to peer inside the oven and check the heat, Gretel gave her a tremendous push and slammed the oven door shut. The witch had come to a fit and proper end. 

Poor witch living alone in her cottage in the middle of the woods when these two little hoodlums come by and start destroying it with their gluttonous hunger.  She was just protecting what was hers right? :)  Imagine that... being female, single and childless...it must be the most horrible thing in the world.  Especially when you get to the poor witchy poos age.

More Fairy Tales...


Barren, Spinster, Old Maid.....bless.  Words you don't hear very often but yet society still views women of a certain age in this light.  I was told recently that it is OK (read: acceptable) to be a man in his mid-thirties, that is single, sexually active and non-committed but to be a woman in the same position well....now that's another story.  Slut, tramp, loose.


Reality...

My mum used to say 'you have one life, you live, you die, you become worm food'. I was brought up quite rightly believing that you had to make the most of this one life you had been given.  There was no after-life, no do overs. My gender was never an issue in these conversations, I was never told that I couldn't do something, be someone great because I was a woman.  Now constantly I get reminded by society of the expectations it has of me.  I bought into this for a while, it depressed me.  I have been told by male and female friends alike that I need to be more submissive, less assertive, let men chase and persue, play the game, be more coy...yawn.  I have been asked if I am a dissapointment to my parents because I'm not married and haven't given them grandchildren. 

I was always have been abundantly aware of how fast life goes, it really does zoom by and I have always felt I didn't have enough time to do, see, taste, feel, learn everything I wanted. I have a good job, I pay rent, bills am responsible (mostly ;))I worked pretty much full time while completing a degree, I have travelled around the world alone.  My life thus far has been pretty amazing and I don't think my parents are dissapointed.  Why is society more focussed on my 'failure as a woman' and not my success as a human being.  Why is it odd/unacceptable to be a woman at this age and to be single, childless and openly comfortable with my need for sex that is not attached to intimacy?

I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep everyone's expectations.... and the higher I keep mine....well it is my life.

Protect me from what I want.- Jenny Holzer

Saw this postcard --------------->

on the weekend at the Whitechapel Gallery  went I went to see an exhibition of John Stezaker's work.  Whitechapel Gallery was fab and really enjoyed Stezaker's art also love exploring yet another area of London I haven't had much experience with.

This postcard by Jenny Holzer is part of her 'Truisms' exhibition and I just love her work.  This particular phrase has been used nicely(appropriated)in Placebo lyrics.

Protect me from what I want?

Do we really want to be protected from what our heart desires, our self absorption our indulgences?

One of my favourites quotes by William Blake is 'Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained'.  

I don't want to restrain my desire.

I never wanted to one of those people who looked back and thought I wish I had of touched, seen, eaten, smelt, held, kissed that or been there....I didn't want to have regrets about missed opportunities, experiences or journeys. 

I don't believe anything is out of my reach.

That country I haven't been to, that goal I haven't yet achieved, those people who I am illogically infatuated with after only one meeting.  Time, distance, money is no issue to me.  There are no barriers.  Barriers (excuses) are made in fear of failure, I would rather fail than not have tried. Although, if you protect me from my desires then I won't potentially have to face defeat, loss, embarrassment and heartache.

Protect me from what I want, please?

We don't always know what's best for us, we have addictions, weaknesses.  We humans are indulgent creatures.

We are selfish and self-absorbed.

Drugs, alcohol, food, complacency and lust.

What we want is not always what we need, what is right for us.

We ask opinions that we don't listen to, advice that we don't take and stay in situations that make us unhappy.  We beg for support and help then don't take it when it's offered.  We create dramas that we can play the lead role in, drag our friends in for bit parts, then wonder why they get pissed off at the constant re-runs.

Don't protect me from what I want..

....if you do, how else will I learn my lesson? 

Stickers got me thinking.,,,,

You know the bumper stickers on vehicles that indicate clearly that there is a 'baby on board' or 'there's nothing left inside this vehicle overnight', the ones that overly explain the really bloody obvious.

I was thinking wouldn't it be easier if we could all wear stickers like this?  

If my eyebrow is raised it is because I'm judging you.
Yes I am angry.
In my mind I've pictured you naked already.
God you're boring.

We of course could change them daily or hourly depending on our moods, the weather or the people we meet. Then people wouldn't have to ask how you are feeling (right now or before you asked me?), if you're angry (mostly always) or am I boring you (generally yes).


It would reduce meaningless conversation somewhat, however...


I always believed that my face worked against me, not in the 'boo man she's scary ugly way', more in the 'everything I am thinking is written all over it' kind of way. Maybe everyone else is just as easy to read as I am but we are all just generally too self absorbed to take the time to bother reading.

Let us for a moment consider... What would happen if we paid as much attention and time to our fellow human, planet/oxygen sharers as we do reading that moron's bumper sticker in the car in front of us? 

It would reduce meaningless conversation somewhat and it would save on the stickers.