the jilted lovers society

I was just wondering. What do you think of sites like rate a guy and don’t date him – which are sites where ex girlfriends write profiles that detail what a psycho bastard their ex boyfriends are?

ooo, They say a woman jilted in love is a woman you don’t want to mess with. True. They also say that men think they can get away with anything. Also, true. If you’re a scum sucking slimeball from a planet not even discovered yet, you can bet there is a woman on earth who will date you, fall in love with you and have your babies. Does this say more about women than men? Yep. I don’t know why women date freaks. Is it because we’re essentially flawed humans? Are we a few short? Do we want to fix everybody? Are we just idiots?! And don’t think I’m totally absolving women either. There are plenty of bitchy psycho femme nazis that will make any guy’s life a living nightmare. Watch out boys!

I’ve been aware of the site for a while. Have I or would I ever participate? No, I never have and I doubt I ever would. If there is a guy equiv, then I’m pretty confident that I wouldn’t be named either. I ain’t perfect but I don’t believe in hurting others for personal gain, not on purpose anyway. I know quite a few guys who do live their lives thinking that women are their pawns though. To those guys I say eat shit tough guy, you’re going down. Yes, I really think that if a guy is an abusive freak/cheater/compulsive liar then I have no problem with their name, age and sometimes even pictures being out there for the world to see. I do believe in karma and I also believe that every action has their consequences. I do find it somewhat amusing that people who have done horrible things to others in the name of “love” find it insulting and unfair when they are named though. Suck it up, buddy.

I don’t support this site for your everyday garden variety commitmentphobe guy, guys who get it wrong once in a while, or guy that things just don’t work out with because …meh, you just didn’t have it going on together. Those guys make up most of the population anyway and it’s just not fair to name them when they haven’t done anything majorly wrong. When they find the right girl they’ll settle down – that’s okay. I’m really talking about those guys that you would urge your friends NOT to date because you’re worried they will be completely fucked up afterwards. Most woman I know knows a guy that would fit into that category. Oh yep.

They were talking about this on the radio this morning. One comment was: women are so bitter. The retort was We weren’t *born* that way, comeback? that’s debatable. LOL, hilarious. My favourite was the guy who rang up and asked if there was an equivalent site for men to write about their psycho ex girlfriends. The retort? It’s called life, buddy. Life.

I do realise that these kinds of sites might be a playground for women who are simply lying about certain guys they have a vendetta against. I really think that’s shameful – but I doubt they’re in the majority actually. I know that one of those sites does have a refute button where the targeted guy gets to have his say. If sites like these exist (and are thriving) then is it because women feel like they have no other avenue (of control) to “get back” at men who have hurt them? When the radio presenter said that men didn’t need an equiv because they had “life” on their side already I laughed my head off, but is that true? And finally, boys, did you put your name into that search engine or were you confident enough to resist? Zat I find veeeeery iiiinteresting!

And girls, I’d watch out for this one if I was you.

oh squishy! :(

In which she watches from above

This is a contemplative moment while sitting on the balcony high above the world and listening to the wind blow deep hums through the gaps in the powerlines. Despite the movement in the air there is a feeling of deep calm that has settled over the town. Perhaps it’s the warm weather, making everything drowsy.

I silently watch the deep suntan of the distant mountains peek through the buildings as the wind tosses my hair into my eyes so I have to stop writing and pull it back behind my ears. It smells like rain.

Overhead a helicopter circles and I glare at it with curiosity. The whole scene reminds me that something is always stirring beneath even the most serene moments. Nothing is ever really what it seems, is it?

The wind picks up and the gentle hum turns into a meanacing growl. The powerlines shake dangerously and clang against one another.

Suddenly there is an accident down on the street below. A bingle. A stocky man emerges from his white pick up truck and points a finger dangerously close to the shoulder of a younger, taller bloke. They begin a macho dance. One points, the other yells. The yeller points the pointer yells. Around they go again, in what is from this distant viewpoint, a silent pantomime.

I wonder about them, about the wind, the copter, the traffic and the faint smell of rain hanging in the air. I wonder how thoughts about everything and everybody else around me always seems more urgent than thoughts about myself. Sometimes I only think I exist in a capacity for others and rarely for just me. My life has never been entirely vapid and self absorbed but it has …stilled to accommodate everything else that always seems to be going on instead – too many people needing me, sometimes badly, sometimes sprinkled with manipulation, always urgently. I put me on the backburner a long time ago. I watch from my balcony at all the things happening. Never the right time for me to climb down.

A bird lands on the powerline. Our gazes meet and she tweets before flying off. As for thoughts about him. Forget it.

same old, same old

Movie Musical Monday.

Movie soundtracks are such a rich source of random music. So often I’ve stayed until the end of the credits just so I can write down the name and artist of a song I particularly loved. Then I skip off to the music store to buy it immediately. I have many, many favourite film soundtracks. Some of them are film scores (The Virgin Suicides, Interview with the Vampire, The Fog of War) but the ones that I take with me everywhere are the ones that contain a combination of music that you wouldn’t find as a colleciton anywhere else. Some of my favourites include Dazed and Confused, Pulp Fiction, The Virgin Suicides (not film score), Cherish, Strictly Ballroom, Garden State, Blow, Coffee and Cigarettes, Trainspotting, Suburbia .. and the list goes on and on. I like different soundtracks for different reasons but mostly when I listen to them I replay parts of the movie in my head. There are certain songs I cannot listen to without thinking of the movie.

One soundtrack which is never far from my side is The Royal Tenenbaums. I remember falling head over heels in love with the movie and buying the soundtrack straight afterwards. I heard that Elliot Smith song in the scene where Richie is going to attempt suicide and I was a goner.

The soundtrack itself is just beautiful from start to finish. It’s melancholy, stitched through with threads of punk – and just like the movie, a little unpredictable and quirky. It has one of my favourite Ramones’ songs (they need their own post) on it (Judy is a Punk) as well as Nico’s mesmerising These Days (I defy anyone to hate this song). Plus it has the added bonus of Maurice Ravel’s classical String Quartet – Second Movement and original music my Mark Mothersbaugh. God love Wes Anderson and Randall Poster for coming up with such a beautiful combination of songs. For months and months after seeing the movie I hardly spent a night without listening to it two, three times. That probably says a lot about my state of mind at the time but I assure you, it’s more than that. I think you should all go out and buy the soundtrack. You won’t regret it.

The song I picked today (and it could have been any of them, really) is Needle in the Hay by Elliot Smith, I picked it for that awesome contemplative moment in the movie where it comes from and also because after today – spending a day in the classroom for a change – I’ve realised how much I’ve really, really missed it – and now I feel well and truly lost and well..just sad. As for Elliot himself, of course he ended up committing suicide, which I think we all knew he was going down that path – so well worn by tortured artists. But the song, ah – well it’s not one to play while you’re getting ready to go out clubbing. It’s probably not one to play much at all if you’re into good moods – but it’s lovely – just lovely.

baby waybey

Auntie M and Auntie #1 have offcially wicially lost their good friendy wendy F to baby talkies. Ohhhh yesss they have! They might be a bit saddy waddy while they wait for F-ey wefey to come back to the land of the normal people. Let’s do aeroplanes..yes let’s! weeeeeee!

In case you needed the adult version, we have officially lost F to the land of the permanently preoccupied facial expression and general municipality of baby talk. #1 is already doing it with her dog (you know, the crotch sniffer) so when her waters finally give way she will be there in that strange land as well – and where will that leave the baby challenged people like moi eh? Hitting her head against a brick wall, that’s where! With all this baby talk going on, I’ve never felt more like Bridget Jones in my life!

You’ll be having a conversation, pouring your heart out in fact, and then suddenly you’ll hear “ohhhh who’s mummy’s gooooood widdle boy?” and you know she’s floated off somewhere nicer. I wonder if I’ll be the same way should I ever spawn my own surprise child at 60 – but I have a feeling I’m more the, having strange conversations that make no sense type, rather than the goo goo ga ga type – but hey you never know! When I had ducks I did scare the shit out of them by running outside and trying to hug them everyday until they ran and sheltered under the cactus plant (where it was obvious I couldn’t reach them) whenever they saw me. Perhaps I will be so utterly besotted by the cuteness of my own child (err, hope it’s cute) that I will scare it silly with hugs until it runs and hides from me as well. One can only hope anyway.

I am finding myself being deliberately inflamatory more often than normal lately. If I know someone has an ideological weakness I will exploit it by saying something that will rile them up. I don’t know why I do it – one day it’s going to get me punched in the face. F, for instance, is a child psych and so I know if I make a comment about children it sets her off. Now, I’m a big hippy and when it comes to children’s nurturing and god I can’t think of anything worse than cruelty towards them in anyway. So when I said “ooh, I hate it when children throw temper tantrums in supermarkets because they don’t get what they want. Is it okay to spank children in public? I’m all for public spanking. Line ‘em up and spank ‘em down” I totally didn’t expect her to laugh. Damn, I’m wearing off on people. I will have to find another way to antagonise.

In other news I had a dream about one of you last night. Don’t worry your chastity belts are all still firmly in place but I did wake up thinking “wtf?” a bit.

a huntin’ we will go.

So today I went to a few open inspections for houses. At the beginning of the day I got onto that domain site and earmarked a few places within my price range. They looked pretty snazzy from the photos so I was pretty excited about them.

Now let me ask you a question: can you airbrush pictures of houses? Because either those pictures were airbrushed like any recent picture of Brittany Spears (and I ain’t talking about the ’stars without makeup’ page – cause we all know those are real) or they did a house switcharoo on me.

Here’s the lowdown:

First house in a leafy street I liked…except that it leaned so far to the right I actually lost my footing. Also the guy doing burnouts in his driveway down the road didn’t impress (though it *did* amuse).

Second – the apartment opposite a lovely park in a great central location had a bathroom with original fittings, circa 1971 (not in a cool kinda retro way – more like an “I play the organ and have the sheet music for Hawaiian Wedding song on the stand out for the whole world to see” kind of way). Plus I could hardly fit into the kitchen.

I actually couldn’t bring myself to go into the third flat – something to do with the fact that I feared for my life in the neighbourhood. I’m sure it was just lovely though.

The fourth house was magnificent! It was my favourite (I’m not kidding). A gorgeous courtyard, perfectly sized bedrooms, exquisite original fireplaces (I love fireplaces). It was just darling. Of course it would have helped If I couldn’t see the footpath outside the house out of the gap between the floor and the wall in the front bedroom. Also the wall actually crumbling before my very eyes earned it another black mark. And well..outdoor loo usually means redback spider bites on your bottom. But apart from that I am so going to that auction.

Fifth house? okay didn’t quite make it – I was depressed by that point.

I had dragged bro along with me for moral support and he laughed his head off the whole time. In fact in the fourth house even the real estate agent (seiously are blonde hair tips part of the job requirement? Why do they all have them?) was laughing at it.

So either I’ve got to get a high paying power job or I’ve got to lower my standards because so far, I’m just not feeling it in any of these places. The thing with me is that I like cosy olden style with all the mod cons, but not delapetated. Somehow this doesn’t quite seem to work in the real estate market these days.

counting flowers on the wall

I’m confused, pensive, pondering.

There is this guy at work I’m not attracted to. Huh? Yeah, not.

This is not really an issue except that he’s extremely good looking, a good person, we have the same dorky sense of humour (best laugh of the day today…err, also only laugh of the day) and he’s single. He’s even thinking of becoming a Primary School Teacher – which means he loves kids! Men who love kids are really high on the list of things that attract me to them (it’s got to do with that kindness thing. Men who love kids enough to actually want to spend most of their day with them simply must have a good heart). Men who make me laugh are to die for. I just adore them. Yet, this guy – I’m not attracted to him. Not in the least.

He was helping with the editing of the movie project today so we were working hand in a hand a lot. Actually, now that I think about it, over the years he has helped me out a lot with technical matters (ie: me fucking up the server whenever I come into 10 feet of a computer). Honestly, when I first started on the job I had a big crush on him. I could hardly look at him without blushing – but it sort of dissapeared. And today, Bless his soul – this shows how great he really is – he spent 6 hours straight with Dawson Leary and did not combust into flames.

After all was said and done and all the kids had gone home, we found ourselves in a comfortable moment together over the editing software waiting for the tape to finish recording. I stepped back from myself and examined the situation. Why don’t you love him? I couldn’t think of a reason why I wasn’t attracted to this guy. Meanwhile any number of dumb reasons will set me off on a huge crush on…people I hardly know – but this guy; nada.

It unnerved me, this lack of feeling for someone so ..there. I have no idea what I want anymore. Maybe I think that ‘certain guy’ is just going to end up doing something really not nice, so it’s not worth it from the beginning. Maybe I don’t want anything at all. Maybe I just want a cat and a good book and a vibrator. But that can’t be right..can it?

no good.

There is this great little children’s story called Alexander, and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. It’s about this kid, Alexander, who is having a bad day. The worst day in fact. It’s so bad that the only cure is getting on a jet plane and going to Australia. No one has a bad day in Australia, do they?

“I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there’s gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.”

I love that book.

The only thing I want to know is; If I’m having a terrile, horrible, no good, very bad day and I’m already in Australia. What’s my cure?

sigh.

Nonsense stuff

Dawson Leary is driving me batty. I swear he has driven me back into the arms of chocolate. I’ve had 5 Freddo Frogs in the past 4 days – I shove them into my face like the cookie monster. You may be asking well, if she’s on a detox then why has she got chocolate around anyway? Well, inquiring minds, the reason why I have chocolate around is that I bought all these Freddo Frogs to give to the people who gave up time and energy to devote to this project (other teachers we used in the filming process). So yes techincally I’ve eaten someone elses present. yep.

Anyway, back to Dawson. The other day I walked into the editing room (ie: also known as the library, desk to three teachers, degrassi dvd burning centre, only place in the school where you go to steal the enforced sticky tape and CD-Rs and where you’ll find Vice Prin most days) and there he was mucking around making the film go backwards and slowing down the talking etc. I almost ran over and slapped him in the back of the head. He had done a bit of editing (ie: one scene) and showed me the end result. I was unimpressed and immediately wanted to hire a professional to do it (wait, can I DO that???). He had missed half the lines and the scene had no continuity. I tried not to act hysterical and showed restraint and professionalism by grabbing the script and shoving it in his face (yes, literally) FOR THE NEXT WEEK THIS IS YOUR BIBLE!!! THIS IS WHAT YOU WILL EAT AND BREATHE! THIS IS THE FIRST PLACE YOU LOOK BEFORE DOING ANYTHING! He looked at me and said “well it’s good that I don’t read the “other” bible then isn’t it?”. But I was serious, oh yes. Vice Prin who was standing two feet away was very amused by the whole situation. I hope Dawson doesn’t tell his parents about the bible comment.. oops.

In other news (and since I have decided to become a nun I have no news of my own) L has been tantalising us with her gossip about her new man. On the surface he seemed nice and everything but then wrote her this email where he told her that he liked it when “his women” dressed like “sluts” and that actually she should dress more like a slut for him. L immediately went into survival mode and wrote back well, I like my men to be 6 foot 2 and built but I’m not going to ask you to start walking on stilts and working out for 3 hours a day am I?

Best. Comeback. Ever.

Needless to say, the relationship didn’t last.