A few reasons why . . . . .

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Kisses, chocolate, blogs, cats, curls, gorgeous eyes, high heels, perfume, smiles, support, pirates, Robbie, oceans, views, sleep, bath, love, family, work, chances, opportunities, silver linings, green, purple, passion, curly wurlys, health, giggles, champagne, whisky kisses, tipsy chats, www, mushrooms, steak, pavolva, crème brulee, raspberries, lemon, mango, mint, beaches, rosemary, coriander, brownies, baking, roasts, custard, water, massages, pedicures, hair cuts, M*A*S*H, Lingerie, Lost, Battlestar Galactica, mobile phones, email, GChat, sunsets, dawn, men, trust, hope, gadgets, gingerbread, blurfing, Thanksgiving, bubbles, Christmas, Easter, holidays, celebrations, travel, adventures, sand, coconut, love bucket, Autumn, attention, Spring, Summer, bed, Winter, babies, batteries, books, films, music, sharing, jelly babies, dressing up, lovers, uniforms, flowers, comments, readers, You Tube, nape of my neck, whispers, dove, quotes, monogamy, lips, balcony, skin, soldiers, sailors, karma, links, emotions, past, friends, present, future, help, affection, cuddles, attention, support, green fields, care, actions, sweet words, birthdays, cupcakes, smarties, roller-coaster, fast rides, erections, stamina, stroking, laughing, chuckles, toys, sunshine, lunch, breakfast, dinner, brunch, snack, midnight feast, afternoon delight, turkish delight, voices, telephones, texts, kittens, koalas, imagination, suspense, delight, anticipation, quiet, parties, solitude, company, crush, sci-fi, serenity, firefly, home, interest, questions, answers, lavender, lace, silk, cotton, leather, knee high boots, sparkles, humour, waves, weddings, births, nice, egg nog, sqwiffy, puddles, letters, postcards, parcels, gifts, camera, photos, slideshows, sharing, thunderstorms, shelter, safety, tactileness, dragon slaying, Geeks, skills, touch, eloquence, expressions, skills, dedication, swings, yoga, weight loss, cute, sex, making love, please, thank you, manners, gentleman, honour, integrity, showers, lemon curd, pool, swimming, walking, roads, white magnum, steps, nice, decisions, distractions, focus, dreams, hair, blushes, positions, freckles, games, dancing, whirlwind, rain, ice-cream, sorbet, gelato, Google Earth, Sydney, London, Hong Kong, Yorkshire, Wales, Scotland, lakes, rivers, ponds, puddles, cartwheels, toast, lamb chops, shorts, acceptance, desire, lessons, visitors, rugby, orgasm, Pimms, plums, sleep, senses, priorities, support, reliability, heart, soul, sharing, pouts, honesty, challenges, shoulders, back, arms, muscles, flirting, teasing, touching, words.

A long and restless night

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Even though the night before I'd had little sleep, last night was probably my worst ever night for sleeping. I went to bed after a nice warm bath at about 11:00pm but then I saw the hours tick over, 1:00am, 2:00am and right up till 4:20am - then I must have finally slept - I must have done because I jumped awake at 6:05am and laid there waiting for the alarm to ring.
I suspect that I will not be at my most productive today.

My Day

A bit of M*A*S*H

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Sitting at my desk and a workman is hanging from a rope just outside my window, I try to ignore him but he is whistling the theme tune to M*A*S*H - for the past 10 minutes - again and again and again. It's most disconcerting. So now I have the tune stuck firmly in my head I thought I'd share the lyrics with you.

"Suicide is Painless" by Johnny Mandel

Song: M*A*S*H Lyrics

Through early morning fog I see
visions of the things to be
the pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...

[chorus]:

That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.

I try to find a way to make
all our little joys relate
without that ever-present hate
but now I know that it's too late, and...

[Chorus]

The game of life is hard to play
I'm gonna lose it anyway
The losing card I'll someday lay
so this is all I have to say.

[Chorus]

The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I'm beat
and to another give my seat
for that's the only painless feat.

[Chorus]

MASH
The sword of time will pierce our skins
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin, but...

[Chorus]

A brave man once requested me
to answer questions that are key
'is it to be or not to be'
and I replied 'oh why ask me?'

'Cause suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
...and you can do the same thing if you choose.

Bathtime

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The perfect bathtime companion

Now I know how Emily Bronte would feel*

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I found out today that the people who bought our old family property (been in the family for 79 years) have done a great job in renovating the property. They have however turned one little corner into a display area. During their renovations at the back of long undisturbed shelves and storage sheds they uncovered an old writing desk and some visitors books that span generations of visitors, a framed piece of cross stitch and a tea set - they've set it up in the alcove under the stairs as a 'conversation' piece. My uncle was passing and called in to introduce himself and complement them on the work they have done to the building, he didn't expect to walk in and see the desk that ALL of us used at one time or another to write on. He was also a little surprised to see how they had turned the page of the visitors book to a date in 1945 and see his own name written there in a child's hand.
To us its every day stuff, to the new owners it is a exhibit!

And yes, the framed cross stitch - it was something I made as a child.
I shall make sure that I drop in at some point to see this all for myself - I might even sign their new visitors book for them.

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* The Bronte Parsonage was the first 'home turned into a museum' I was taken to see as a small child, the image of her desk, her journal and petite gloves has stayed with me all these years and I always wondered how the Bronte family would feel if they could see the tourists looking through their personal affects.

Lather

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I lay back as he turned the spray on my hair, he checked it wasn't too hot for me as he carefully covered my long locks with water. As I closed my eyes I could feel the weight of my hair growing. He turned off the water and took the shampoo and began to lather, his fingers entwined with my hair, with great care and attention he made sure that every inch was attended to.
When I was good and soapy his hands plunged back into my roots, his strong fingers began to massage my scalp, my temples, behind my ears, my neck, my whole body relaxed under his touch, which went on and on and on.
Finally he began to rinse off the bubbles, his fingers carefully lifting my hair so that the spray reached everywhere. Then he did it all over again with the conditioner. My head was cradled in his hands as the tension and stress was released, washed away with the lather.



Only the scent of the products left behind.

International Waffle Day

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From me to you, have a great waffle day

Hello again

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Wandering through the pages of different lives I see familiar 'faces' and aliases, I hear familiar 'voices' and I smile to myself and know there is a reason why I'm drawn in certain directions.
Only a few degrees of separation in this blogging world of ours. Sometimes I remember the link that led me to you, other times it was a comment left at another place that raised my interest, sometimes you found me first.

Sometimes when I least expect it, you appear.

Bounce

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If there is one thing I can do well its bounce.


After sleeping a good sleep I have revisited yesterday's meeting. It may not be as bad as I thought and even if the outcome is not the one I am hoping for, I did gain some answers of my own

Not the answer that they were looking for

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I've just walked away from a meeting that I thought I had nailed - everything was going well from the first question. There was a great deal of positive communication between us, for nearly an hour things were going really well. Then one last question was asked and answered, and the answer may have changed everything.
So now I'm feeling blue.

Truth

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Between any couple who have broken up there is usually 3 versions of the truth, his version, her version and the true version. One of the effects of blogging about our lives is that we the observers, the readers get to see the different sides.
In the past I've been involved with someone who rewrote his history to remove all traces of me, so I can imagine how hurtful it is when I've read a number of blogs recently where the dumper has downplayed the feelings and love that they had for the dumpee. I see men and women posting that those promises and sweet whispers really didn't mean anything to them, that the person with a broken heart was only a distraction at the time - at a distance I guess its easier to accept ones own behaviour that way.

Innocence

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I've travelled through a lot of customs channels over the last umpteen years, and until this weekend I'd never been stopped for a bag check, much less anything more invasive.
What I'm wondering was there any connection between the naughty shenanigans that I spent the weekend doing and the lack of innocence on my face?

Meet the guys

Champagne

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"champagne is different - it's not really alcohol, it's happy brain tonic that goes straight to the central giggle cortex."

Welcomed

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I've just sent an email to a friend in another country, saying that I'll be landing in her city at an ungodly hour of the morning and wondering if I might be able to come for breakfast.
Her reply

"You absolutely must come, of course. Could be faintly chaotic, but you don't mind that sort of thing! I do b & b for foreign language students these days and I have some French lady in the spare room arriving on the 30th for 3 weeks. If all goes according to plan both C and W will be here, and I don't think H has broken up from school at that point, but we'll squeeze you in somewhere for as long as you want."

That response is just like her home, filled to bursting with love and affection.
I feel wanted and I can't wait to visit.

Light at the end of the tunnel - perhaps

Recent events have been conspiring against me, but with more than a little help from my friends (being able to let off steam is such a good thing) there is a possibility of there being a light at the end of this particular tunnel, perhaps.

No wonder I'm confused

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I am attracted to men who are tall, hmmm but then again there was that short guy who made up for his lack of height in other ways.

I am attracted to men who are assertive and strong willed, yet I hate being bossed about.

I am attracted to men who gave me their time and attention, yet I feel smothered if its too much.

I am attracted to men who are geeks, and also men who are fit and active.

I am attracted to men who are passionate - about something.

Under the influence

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I've had a couple of sessions of hypnotherapy a few times in the past and I've also recently been listening to a motivational hypnosis CD late at night. I've been told in the past that I'm a good subject for hypnosis, which sort of makes sense when I accept how much I'm influenced by others moods on a day to day basis.


Although this CD doesn't aim to help me sleep I'm finding it very useful as it allows to me to 'switch off' from all the worries and concerns that seem to swirl around my mind in the darkness. As I lay there counting back from 300 (as per instructions) I can literally feel the pull on my mind and eyes as I am being taken under the influence, its a sort of fluttering over my eyes, even though they are closed and I'm relaxed against my pillow I feel that I'm being taken deeper - deeper to what or what I am not so sure. I just know that on the nights that I fall asleep listening to this CD I sleep well, don't have scary dreams and wake refreshed in the morning. And the furthest I can remember counting down to from 300 is 235 so by that reasoning I'm probably getting an extra hour of sleep a night which is great in itself!

300 men

Well, partly on the recommendation of Seven Seas and also because I've liked what I've seen in the previews I headed off to see 300 men in loin cloths this weekend. And what a treat it was, duty and honour and six packs - get me every single time!

No sulking

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During a chat with a man who was trying to lure me off to do naughty things, the conversation drifted around to the subject of my 'appreciating' a masterful man. Well from that point on his actions and words just amused me, his idea of being masterful seemed to swing between being bossy and aggressive.
And when neither of those had any effect on my libido he sulked, and that certainly isn't a turn on.

Fear

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I was talking to a friend today about my options in the near future. How I was a little afraid to walk towards a certain goal. Her comment

"You do this, you get close to something then you run/walk away before the final hurdle."

She's right. I do.

Why? Because sometimes I'm afraid.

One of my favourite days of the year

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Yum


'nuff said

Today

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A year ago this day was filled with anticipation, hopes and laughter.

Today it seems just full of time. Time to wonder on what might have been if things had turned out differently and what still may be in the future.

Early morning people watching

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The couple who walk hand in hand along the road every morning, usually chatting away to each other with animated faces. Today they walk silently, arms carefully held away from each other, no chance of an accidental touch.

The 6 year old who skips to the bus stop holding the hand of her father, full of giggles and conversation. On the days when she walks with her mother she is quiet and careful, her mother quizzing her on her spelling practise.

The much older man, who smells gorgeous. He walks past me every day.

Another couple, he in a business suit pulling deeply on his smokes. She in gym clothes with a large bottle of water in her hand. They never speak, but always walk side by side.

The older man standing waiting for the bus, but never at the bus stop. He waits a little down the road until it approaches, only then does he walk to join the others standing there.

The young woman walking the dog, he stops and does a poo every single morning at the same corner, as he squats she puts a plastic bag under his bum, he poos straight into the bag that she throws straight in the rubbish bin - she doesn't even tie a knot in the bag.

The young man who leaves his house as I walk past, we make eye contact now and say good morning. Today he remarked he was running late.

Oxytocin

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Another great post by Annie, reminds me that I have an abundant supply of Oxytocin. Far too much for one woman to handle.

Who is that?

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Yesterday I used a new shampoo, it left my hair feeling lovely and soft, but it had quite a strong scent. It was a very pleasant scent, just not one that I've ever worn before.
For the whole day when ever I turned my head or lay back against the chair I'd catch the fragrance, I kept turning around to see who was nearby, it was most disconcerting.

Today I didn't notice it so much.

National Chocolate Cheesecake Day

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I've just seen over here that today is National Chocolate Cheesecake Day.

Go forth and bake!

Exit

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A few days ago I received word that a member of my immediate family has died, I received this news without sorrow. There is no mourning of her passing, just relief that she is at last free from pain, she is no longer a burden on those around her but most of all that she no longer manipulates my father.

My reaction to her death surprised me a little, I am someone that has cried many times on reading blogs where family members have been lost, when I read a book or watch a film then I feel pain for those grieving. Even yesterday I shed a tear in the middle of a book when a fictional character lost her fictional sister. I've even been known to cry reading a book about pets that have died - yes watching Bambi was not my best moment ever.
Yet strangely I find myself unmoved by the passing of my own. Does this mean I love her less than others loved their own? Perhaps so. I just know that we had a difficult relationship, and what I do mourn is that she was never able to tell me that anything I ever did was good enough. No matter what went on, nothing was ever acknowledged. When ever we spoke it was always to praise another family member who is in a similar line of work, yet has not had the 'success' I have achieved through sheer determination and hard work. If I were the train driver, then my cousin would be the lady who pushes the tea trolley. Not that there is anything wrong with pushing the tea trolley, just that my strengths, achievements and challenges were never ever noticed never mind praised.

Perhaps this is why I seem to be steeled against feeling any grief at her passing - I never mattered to her.