There's nothing cold as ashes after the fire is gone

So I've had a couple of weeks of highs and lows.

I've lost approx 3kgs in 3 weeks - so that's a bonus. For 2 weeks I was going awesomely with eating healthy, not putting so much shit into my body, and feeling so much better.

The weekend before last, I went down to Wellington for a gig with friends, as well as my Dad and his partner. It was so much fun and I had a couple of drinks, and hung out with my friend and her hot single male friend, and got a bit of a flirt on. At the end of the night, we all hugged and then I drove home again. At this point, I crashed (emotionally, not literally). I just felt like shit. Admittedly I was very tired. But it carried on into the next day. Not feeling good enough or pretty enough or thin enough - hot guys that I lust after will never look at me in that way, etc etc.

By Monday I was marginally better, mostly due to sleep, but the healthy lifestyle definitely slipped.

I was getting my groove back towards the end of the week, and then on this most recent weekend, we went to New Plymouth for a Tattoo and Art festival. It was amazing, the weather was beautiful and it was such a great day. And then I crashed again. There were so many hot guys, but then so many hot girls also, and again I felt like I would never be good enough. There were amazing burlesque dancers, which were both a source of inspiration (imagine being able to do that and getting fit and hot etc) and a source of despair (I will never be like that so why bother even trying). Again I was shattered. And then we went to a friends house and I mildly flirted with a guy, who then wasn't interested, and while it was harmless fun at the time, it became depressing after the fact.

And now I'm back in this "why even bother" state. Its a pointless state to be in, and it's not healthy or helping, but its a hard funk to shake out of.

I have been part of a "Biggest Loser" type competition for 4 weeks now (the only time I've been weighing myself at all in the last couple of months) and it was going well, and now I even feel like I'm letting all of them down because I'm sure I've put on weight this week (PMS isn't helping...)

GAH!

End of sad rant. Will try to make my next post about something a bit more upbeat.

But hearts beat slower in the garden below

I am having a very low day, but I wanted to write. Not about my low day - maybe later. But a general rambling that has recently occurred to me.

Last month I went on a roadtrip where I got to see my bestest friend for the first time all year. I miss her like crazy. She knows me better than I know myself - which is both scary and comforting as all hell. Though I do miss her, one thing I love about our relationship is that whenever we do see each other, no matter if it's been a month or a year, it's as if we have never been apart. Our friendship is like that super soft snuggly favourite pair of slippers.

Anyway, we were having a conversation where she was telling me a story about when a male friend asked her who, if she could choose from anyone in the world, she would want to make fall in love with her. And her answer was me. I forget all the reasoning behind it because it had me in tears. I still am astounded by how much this person loves me, and how much she has my back. It is often more than I feel I deserve, mostly because I am a little crazy like that. Anyway, it was to do with how low I was at that point, and how much she wanted to support me and how I would then love someone who loved me and who wouldn't hurt me. Or similar. I'm sure if I am totally off she will correct me.

And it got me thinking back to my "crush" at the start of the year on a very dear friend of mine. There was a "kiss" that almost doesn't count. And I spent a while thinking I loved him in a different way, and that I wanted more. Yet in all this time, a sexual relationship did not actually enter my mind. My brain did not even go there. And not because I don't find him attractive, but I just do not think of him in that way at all. Kissing and affection sure, but not beyond that.

I think part of the whole crush/attraction thing, was similar to what my friend was talking about with me - in that I was wanting to be there for him. To make him realise that not all girls are cheating whores who care more about themselves than anyone else. To help him realise that he is amazing and that he is truly loved without any of that bullshit. And also because I need that in my life - I want someone to love and to care for, who also loves me back.

I had a friend comment that she thought I had always loved said guy. And it's true - I always have. But not really as anything more than friends or family. And now he has found someone who seems lovely, and for now at least, he has what he has always wanted in that he has a partner and a family and he appears happy, which is awesome and all I could ever want for him, and for all my friends.

I never meant to start a war I just wanted you to let me in

So I am very overdue for doing an update on how my counselling/coaching sessions are going with Jo - it will be quite the post, or series of posts.

In the meantime, part of what we talked about this week is how unattractive I feel, and how I have not even found anyone attractive to look at in ages. I feel like I'm always searching for eye candy but hadn't seen any in a while, which is bizarre given how bad I was just a few months ago. So part of my "homework" for this week was to find at least one attractive guy on my travels.

Enter Tankapalooza. Mission accomplished.

Hot guys everywhere. And despite feeling fat, I felt quite pretty which was a nice change. And mostly I was so focused on the music and enjoying myself that I didn't care that much anyway :)

One of the hot guys was an ex of sorts. More that he was a guy I used to hook up/sleep with a few years back. Actually, about eight years ago, which is crazy in itself.

He has developed this killer beard. I have a beard addiction (fetish is such a dirty sounding word, but it is a bit of a fetish to be fair). He is still the skinniest guy I've ever met, but tall, hot, and just such a beautiful beard.

The sad thing is how awkward things are. I saw him a couple of months ago - we stood next to each other whilst talking to mutual friends - and he avoided making eye contact so I avoided saying a word. This time, the girl I was to catch up with at the gig was hanging out in his corner. Again, we avoided saying a word to each other. It makes me sad because I would like to at least be friends with him. It's my fault - I acted like a bit of a tard. I liked him a lot (and he was the most beautiful guy I had ever had the pleasure of making out with), and I had high expectations (it was also a year after Jeremy died so I was trying to not run away from attachment, and instead went in the complete other direction and got far too attached), which he did not share. The first time this happened I was actually fine. After him telling his cousin (who was flatmates with a good friend of mine) that he really liked me, and wished we were still hanging out, and me hearing this, we started hooking up again. He lost a friend and turned to me for comfort, and as I would be for anyone I care about, I was there for him. And I think that convinced me that there was potential. And so when we went our separate ways, I cracked a little and got a bit sad about it. I wasn't a psycho, and I don't think I made things awkward, but I broke my own heart with it all. Silly girl.

And since then we normally only see each other when we're drunk. In fact, one such time I introduced him to a friend of mine as "this is D..., he broke my heart once" and then laughed it off awkwardly. Aside from that, we just haven't seen each other much. Last time I saw him he looked a little homeless which made things easy - but this beard provides way too much food for thought!!

Men.

I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies

There are things that I really enjoy about being single:
- having a whole bed to myself to stretch out
- not having anyone else hog the blankets - mine, all mine!!
- being able to do whatever I want, whenever I want
- not having to answer to anyone or worry about their opinion (that said - never again will I ever let someone dictate the length of my hair based on their preference - I'll cut it off if I damn well want to!!)
- not having to shave my legs every day if I don't want to
- being able to have lazy days at home in track pants and not worrying about turning anyone off (not that that bothers you after a few months anyway....)
- being able to perv on boys, and flirt if the opportunity arises, without pissing anyone off

But then, there's so many things I miss. Aside from the obvious physical aspect likes hugs and kisses, and whatever rhymes with 'hug me', there are the other bits I miss too. The main one lately that's been bugging me is having someone to do stuff with. There's a few gigs coming up that none of my friends want to go to, because the gig/genre is not their scene or whatever, and I just wish I had a person to go to things with. I miss hearing about an event I want to go to and automatically knowing that I have a partner that will come along. I don't mind going to events on my own every so often, but otherwise my life just feels so freaking lonely. Its' dumb.

It's gonna take a Superman to sweep me off my feet

Part of me misses the days when I could drink like a fish and didn't suffer much as a consequence.

Those days are long gone...

I don't understand the overwhelming need for people to encourage others to get drunk. These days I generally choose to have one or two and I'm done, and yet am often subject to pressure to drink more in order to have fun. I think these days I definitely have more fun without drinking. The next day is more fun for sure.

Friday night I did initially intend to just have a few. During the day I was convinced to have more than a few. Then the earthquake hit and I thought "fuck this shit, I'm getting drunk". At some point between then and the start of the evening, I crashed. I got sad and grumpy and I'm still not sure what turned the switch. This was the initiator for the big bottle of whiskey. At 6pm we started. I cheered up and got into drinking games with gusto. I remember yelling at people to de-sex their cat. I remember being sad and having a bit of a cry on the balcony. Then I remember throwing up and crawling into my friend's bed. I think it was about 10pm. At 1.30am-ish I heard everyone leaving, so I managed to miss the majority of the party. And I still feel a bit seedy today.

Not worth it. Not worth feeling like shit for the rest of the weekend, nor being embarrassed about facing a couple of people at work tomorrow. And all for what?

I think the emo-ness was brought about partly by being on edge after the quakes, but also because in 2 weeks time it will be 10 years since Jeremy passed away. I have been thinking about it but I perhaps had underestimated how upset I am about it. Operation Brave Face is not always so effective after all....

And every breath she drew was Hallelujah

A little absent...

A new month, a new job, a new city (well, town...)

I am back working in Palmy, and living at Dads. Being 30 and living with a parent sounds depressing, but it's comfy like a well worn in pair of pyjamas. Living with Dad is not like living with a parent so much, and so I must stop caring about how it sounds, and what other people think, and just do what is right for me. I get to live in a nice (albeit very very cluttered) house, with room to move around, where Diesel is happy, where I can save some money, and with someone who doesn't drive me nuts. It's a pretty sweet deal.

I have started coaching/guidance/"counselling" with Jo, as of last week. In some ways, the fact that she knows me so well will make it easier, but also more difficult since she won't let me get away with stuff. Especially when she already knows most of the answers. And she's so excited about the "journey", which is good, but her enthusiasm also scares me. Our goal is that I will be essentially a "new" person (well, a better and improved, happier version of myself) by this time next year. My "assignment" for this week is to observe myself and my actions from a bystanders point of view. It's a little tricky.

I have essentially said that I will be where I am for the next year, as it is Dad's 60th next July. This could change if an amazing animal job appears or something else pops up, but it's nice to have some semblance of a plan for now.

Back home I have more people - but I am also the only person amongst my friends who is not in a relationship or owning a house or some other grown-up venture. I like being footloose and fancy free and not having anything tying me down, but I also feel a bit meh about it. But then the grass always does appear greener on the other side of the fence. My singledom does have some coupled-up friends envious and potentially re-assessing relationships because they miss that aspect of their lives - so it isn't all it's cracked up to be after all.

I am avoiding thinking too much about guys in general. Obviously I observe them in passing (or follow them with my eyes at car events with Dad - nothing hotter than hot guys that are into hot rods, that also have hot tattoos - heaven!). I am realising that the crushes I have had in the last couple of years have been slightly ridiculous. Guys that I don't stand a chance with, guys I love but can't imagine actually having sex with, guys that I don't even know that well but think that I do (and then realising once I get to know them that I don't really have a crush on them after all). Not to say I will cease developing crushes at any stage, but it's interesting to see how out-of-reach I aim. Guess it's just safer that way - no chance of getting hurt if there is no chance of real involvement in the first place.

What a mish-mash collection of thoughts.

Baby when it's love if it's not rough it isn't fun

I feel in a bit of a state of flux, but am surprisingly rather content.

There are aspects of my life (mainly just myself - the usual) that I am unhappy with, but overall, I am not unhappy. Not happy either I don't think, but content. It's a pleasant feeling....

I am planning my next tattoo. At the end of next month it will be 10 years since Jeremy passed away (not technically, but since I found out and the grieving began). And I intend to commemorate this.

When I was telling someone of the whole situation, they seemed to think I was a little bit nuts. Something along the lines of "but you didn't know him that long, and you weren't actually a real couple, etc etc". I think this resonated with me because I often think that too. And yet there is no mistaking the impact he had on me, both in life and death.

He had this giant spider on his leg (took up his whole thigh). (Actually, I apologise if I have already shared this story, but it's my blog so too bad). The first time he took his pants off, I swear I almost cried. At that point in my life I was quite arachnophobic and to say the tattoo frightened me would be a fair comment (I was the girl who panicked over the "huge" spider which was actually less than the size of a 5 cent coin). I got used to it (it was so big that it couldn't possibly be real so that helped whenever I caught an unexpected glimpse of it under the bed covers or anything - the spider that is....). Since his death, I have had multiple encounters with similar species of spider that have surprisingly left me quite calm. No squealing or panicking at all. Bizarre. The first one perved on me in the shower. It made perfect sense that if he was to come back at all, that would be his style. And since then, with the exception of white tails (devil spawn), I cope very well with spiders and am even sometimes fascinated by them.

So if for no other reason, that is why I am getting the tattoo. Jeremy also taught me a bit about myself, what I want, the type of person I am. And I'm grateful for getting to know him, even if it for much too brief a time.