Thank you for your kind birthday wishes, I felt a little bit spesh actually from all the nice lovehearts and happy thoughts - the big 30 is here upon me and I survived it!
I want to write some recollections of a different nature, nothing drug related really as I am free of all that burden, at last I have a new story, sweet friends.
Tonight Jas and I enjoyed watching the first Harry Potter film, when they still had puppy fat and seemed oblivious of becoming the most watched film series ever, which is amazing still.
JK Rowling is one of the people I name when Boo and I list the five people we would like to invite to our Ultimate Dinner Party. (In case anyone is curious - Noam Chomsky, Bill Gates, JKRowling, Marilyn and Oprah for me) The idea of Harry Potter literally popped into her head whilst on a particularly dreary, 3 hour train ride and in typical Writer Style, she didn't have a pen on her at the time. Sometimes, she still wonders if her recollections are completely captured by the famous series, or whether errant ideas are left under the seat of the DR Train.
Writing, is romantic to me. I can write for ten minutes or ten hours, yet I hardly have 2 Chapters of my autobiography done. I keep adding life to it, rescripting the direction and of course my brain is much more sharper than 3 years ago, when I first played around with the concept of memoirs. My ego has deterred me from ever remaining on one manuscript, three blogs and a patchwork of stories sum up how many split personalities I had at the time, each one served a purpose and got me through whatever life I had thrown myself into. Truely, I have tried to run from this very blog at least four times, much like you want to have a fresh page when you start on telling a new story, scrunching up scribbled pieces when you felt you were writing too dramatically or just plain boring crap. I don't have that editorial liberty over my life, and most of my writing is about me, what I have done, what I am doing and what I will do.
I hardly write about daily minutia anymore, which is odd as I am definately living happier and more vibrantly than I ever have actually. I still smoke too much, I am besotted with Mr Boo and I have a handful of female friends that I cherish, love and respect. I'm free of angst towards my parents, I'm slowly becoming the parent and they are the child - by transforming my addictions and life I have grown up and yet they still wallow in a dysfunctional pothole. I'm no longer drowning with them, nor am I ignoring them or obsessing - I just simply 'be', which sounds naff but is quite apt for now.
Career wise, I work from home and I live well. I am lucky to have a loving partner who encourages me to seek creativity and nutures my fragility, the days of the Office are not an option sadly.
I accept it now, maybe I might change and be able to go back and work under someone doing menial tasks without picking out particularly different work collegues (normally the 'know it all' late twenties dude or the "huge breasted freckled girl in Mum jeans with a big case of Fat Rage " and waging a personal war of competence and egotistical domination over them, just to entertain me for that particular morning. I have issues with the words - targets, budget, overtime and phrases like "Can we have a chat?" and "who stole my stapler" being in my vernacular. I'm suburban but spoilt, I appreciate the time I get to do something more purposeful than make some fat cat rich whilst I haul my ever expanding ass (thanks to the tea lady) onto a sweaty, slow commute by bus on the M1, counting how many people are listening to shit music at some ungodly hour when I should be masturbating in the sunshine strewn sheets, debating over whether to have a crossiant or eggs benedict after my 20 minute shower, facial, all over shave and just..staring into a mirror. Yeah, I do have it pretty good. A writer has to love their own company, something I have almost mastered - I do need the occasional phone call/gossip to keep contact with the living.
Mr Boo and I have been together for a year - the best year, in my opinion. He's swoonly and manly and funny without trying and I totally fuss over him when he is sleepy, and I love holding his hand when we go househunting, I feel so grown up you see! We have a gorgeous daughter, Jas and she is ten, whippet smart, beautiful, dead funny and totally gets the whole "animated" thing and loves to gossip with her cool "Stepmom". I like spelling it like that, it makes me feel like I am Susan Sarandon in that movie, totally. I want my own baby in about 2 years, business first and then once finances are taking care of themselves (I am finally doing my date coaching/matchmaking service for $$ and once I have the relevant degree of education I want to do family counselling/ addiction guidance/ child grief consultant/counsellor.) I am in first discussions with www.rainbows.org to set up a group in my area and things are looking very promising so far.
Rainbows is an international organization, a support/peer group to provide a bridge to emotional healing for children, adolescents, and adults confronting death, divorce or other painful family transition - "because it doesn't need to hurt forever."
How cool is that? Seriously, I am so enamoured with this concept and I came across the idea quite by accident, just a random book I found on a bench. A sign perhaps?
The great thing about Rainbows is that they teach the Group Leader the outlines and planned content and I basically chair the group, and mediate the discussions. I feel so strongly about the impact of loss in our childhood years has on our adult life and overall well-being that I think peer groups shouldn't just be for Alcoholic's or gamblers, the stories of young boys supporting each other's grief and anger over a father's divorce is inspiring and it works.
Show me anyone struggling with a mental illness, depression, addiction or trauma and I would most likely be able to pinpoint a time in their childhood that they experienced loss of a parent - not only due to death, but painful loss from divorce, custody issues, jail time or, in my case, abandonment because they just couldn't cope with being a parent. Anyway, I just wanted to share with you some of my interests and directions for 2008. http://www.rainbows.org
If you ever wanted to help make a difference, Rainbows is not as intimidating as some of the other charities and organisations.
Now, I am just about to wrap up so I will quickly go through the remaining details of me, lately. I've not been able to quit smoking. I had a wonderful Birthday and I felt Loved, really nice memories. I revisited Rockhampton, the country town my Father dragged us to in my high school years, the town in which I left the house and family a year after arriving. I reunited with a very close friend, Bahl who has many stories I am yet to share and we spent the whole time catching up and did none of the touristy things I half-heartedly planned. Even though we have hardly spoke in 10 years, we connected almost like I'd never left, even though she had three children clinging to her skirt now, and I no longer obsessed about miniskirts, one night stands and University. You can expect to hear more of our wacky adventures, not just old stories (how embarassment - I am not old and dusty just yet thank you!) but new magnificent adventures and scandal. We are even reinstating the Original Girls Club - although I am committed to finding a new unisex moniker seeing that a decent share of my besties are male. Bahl is my partner in crime in many ways and I am quite sure our men are nervously awaiting announcements of our new and improved plans to take over the world and be utterly fabulous - without chemicals this time.
I am going to elaborate more on this Girl's Club in due time, it is more a state of being rather than a club you can join, aspiring to be in it is useless - you either have it or u don't.
For instance - Bahl thinks Sex In The City is ridiculously dull. We all know I love the show, Carrie and co were surrogate girlfriends when I was living with Michael, the buff yet angry navy guy that had little man syndrome and an embarassing fondness for road rage.
They helped me realise that even though I was in a co-dependant, miserably boring relationship with a man who had way too much teen porn for my liking, it kept me holding hope that once a week the girls would come and save me and take me for a Cosmopolitan. Memories..
Yes, memories are what brought me to be striding into Rockhampton's pitiful Arrivals lounge, I was all about the sunglasses, the toss of my hair but the smiles were all genuine.
Seeing Bahl again, and letting her love for me, the real me, fall down gracefully upon my shoulders like shiny clean hair, reminded me just how hurt the last year had me. I had a flicker of hope, that my "sisters are doing it for themselves spirit" could be retrieved my sorry ass trainwreck of self esteem that had me convinced that I was 'too hard" for girls to comprehend, that because I was never a constant (eg; I can sincerely love a person yet tell them I hate their behaviour to me or others) but perhaps the saddest part of all the London stuff and girls here is that I realised nothing I did, no matter how "clean" I was, I was just "done" in their eyes.
Hate me for something I did - that would be easier than making me feel that being my friend was the biggest waste of time and oh such a bother - that apathy stung like you wouldn't believe.
It still does, but the time between "sad attacks" about what could have been, now that I am so happy and settled, and what I feel wronged by, well they are getting fewer and further between.
Another thing that has complicated my female friendships is I'm too honest in my oldness now, I'm not rudely blatant mind you - I dislike rude girls who just mindlessly confront or object either - I pride myself on witholding my final opinion until I have all the information so consequently my values and beliefs are controversially a work in progress. This infuriates any one that wants to label me, I just grow in less obvious ways, more inwards rather than the usual progressions a girl makes, with career, relationships and friends. I know myself very, very well.
I'm hoping it will come in handy one day dammit.
So many young women I know (25+) are scrambling for this "growing up" phase, defined by a solitare diamond ring with a puppy on top, that unless I intend on assisting or "oohing and ahhing" then I'm just wasting their precious time. This "time" is not the kind of time you would think would cause it to be the dealbreaker- it's just a lunchbreak, or a slot on a weekend when 'he' is out of town, or the even more elusive night out 'clubbing', which nowdays ends by 1am - the highlight of the night not being the hot musican you snogged but rather the Doner Kebab and a good night's sleep (cos she has kyaking at sparrow's fart.) I'm a little different to that, but to say I am irresponsible and wild, is not a good fit either. Can I still be satire - without the drugs? How many girls do you know that would actually drop everything and come to you if you were certain that you needed them, now. I know I am one of those girls again, thanks to Bahl I may not be everything anymore to many but I know that I am something special to someone again.
That's why a girl needs a girlfriend - to keep that part of you alive.
Perhaps girls should actually realise that Carrie isn't really real (jessica is so boring omg), her Manolo shoes cost $2000 and she works at Vogue? Isn't hanging out a bar when you are 35 and single, dare I say - a touch sad? Commitment seems to be the golden standard when you are closing in on 30. Mortage, Marriage and Monogamy - that's three things I have open views on.
I was a sex worker, so I saw a lot of miserable thirty something guys and they openly resented the commitment and babies and seriousness - it takes a real man to give up being a boy.
As you can imagine - this is not a great opener at social events in this hemisphere.
I am very curious to find out what becomes of Carrie in the new movie.. I really doubt that Sleazy Mr Big would chase her forever, I bet he breaks her heart. Snore.
Domestic bliss or tycoon wannabe - uggh.. is that what I idealised for myself? I ponder such things since "growing up", like how will I define success as a woman when it comes? Because it seems you need to present this to your friends, like a fruit platter. Subtly competitive nature evened out with the occasional passive agressive swipe - oh how I adore the class system women my age are creating all around me. Girlpower dies when you are 30. We hide in small clusters, dancing to New Romantics, spilling hair dye on white vanities and putting crumbs in our beds such a sorry, sorry state of affairs. This is why we formed The Girls Club. We started it when we were 20, scribbled on a excersise book. We had many young recruits but I am slightly jaded now to girls under 23 - I can no longer fluff delicate ego's or indulge cringe inducing vanity.
The Girls Club is not pretty or pink. It's more a society, but maybe, just maybe I could make it a movement. I shall publish the rules on a seperate blog, so stay tuned for the link.
So in short, I have a new girl friend. Weeeeeee! Yay for HG.
Bahl is a killer bestie, but the only blackberry she knows is the eating kind and I love her for that. I respect that rather than fight the glass ceiling at work, sneak diet pills for lunch then ask "Is it Organic?" at a nine o clock dinner in a resturant so cool it doesn't have a name, Bahl has her own sense of fufillment. She has three healthy, happy children, a husband that is her best friend and animals that would rip limbs of you if you ever tried to mess with any of them.
Bahl wondered why she had not featured much in the blog and I think it's because now is the start of a new story, of old friends with past mistakes, spilt nailpolish on pure white carpet, never picture perfect to each other but we couldn't love each other any other way.
Thank you Bahl and Bee for being such wonderful hosts.
I am so happy you are all in my life and I love all you like family. I really do.