The Girls

Since I was twelve, my life has been intertwined with those of five other remarkable women. We have literally grown up together and have somehow managed to stay friends...and not just friends, sisters.
Throughout high school these girls were my confidantes, each with a different take on any given problem,real or otherwise. They were also how I measured myself as a girl and then a woman. Comparing myself to theses girls I was quite frequently dissapointed in how I measured up. This was always only in my own mind, my girlfriends were not the kind from after-school t.v who made fun of their "friends" or turned on them when the wind changed. Ever since I have known these girls, now all grown up, they have accepted me as I am...however, or whoever I am at the time. I can only hope they feel i have done the same for them, as we are all very different from each other.
Megan, always elegant until we're all together, then she is loud and laughing and hilarious. She is always a steady voice in the many storms that come in and out of my life. Behind her usually calm exterior is a mind that is constantly ticking over, often with ideas about how I can meet a bloke and enjoy a great career, at the same time.
Kylie, always serene until we're all together, then she becomes loud and giggly and silly. she is always there for an extremely long talk, without needing to talk, letting me think things through. I have always loved being in her space, which is always warm and inviting and full of little treasures that are just "her".
Becky, always relaxed until we're all together, then she is loud and laughing and gossiping. She is always brutally honest and with such love it doesn't ever sting. A full day with her and the kids has become a much cherished luxury.
Tash, always refined until we're all together, and then she becomes loud and giggly and animated. She is always open to my many questions about her heritage, and answers with thought and honesty.
And lastly, Karina, always sophisticated until we're all together, then she becomes loud and laughing and funny. She is the one who sends books to me when things are hard and I have lost my way, without judgment, just love.
These are the five women I have grown up with, and continue to grow with. I am always astounded that they are still a part of my world and I of theirs. Perhaps the frequency of our gatherings has changed, perhaps our lives are travelling different roads, but somehow, we always manage to come together, as a touch stone to each other, a safe place to fall, or fly.
And for that, my dear friends, I say Thank You.

Coming Out of The Dark

It seems like forever ago that I was in the hole, in the dark, with no way out. But its only been a few weeks since I found my way out and started feeling "normal" again. Thats another word I hate, "normal". What does that even mean? For me its means I'm still all in my head and not entirely happy with where I find myself, but I am no longer spiralling downwards, no longer truly hating myself.
The St Johns Wort certainly pulled me out of the hole, but it hasn't made the cold hard truth any easier to swallow. I still hate my job, I still feel like I should be more successful than I am, I still have my issues, but I'm trying to be nicer to myself. Gentler...more like I am to my best mates...honest but loving. Why its so hard to be this way to myself I'm not sure, but I sure am becoming a better friend. My internal dialogue is no longer a record stuck on destroy...now I can pick the tune I wanna hear and control the volume....if you get my old fashioned metaphor...

So, the update is, I'm O.k. I'm pretty good in fact. Turns out, where I am is exactly where I need to be...out of the hole and dancing in the rain.

Love, Love me Do

Have you ever been afraid that you'll never fall in love again? Not just "Be" loved, but really love someone? Sometimes I forget about how amazing it is to be the one doing the loving...so to speak. It occurred to me recently that I haven't been in love for about seven years. I almost have, I could have taken that leap of faith, but I didn't. I haven't for about seven years. Thats an incredibly long time to keep your heart under lock and key. I haven't given anything away for all this time. I'm sure in a way its a good thing...I haven't unnecessarily set myself up to fall flat on my face...just my arse. But I miss that feeling. That crazy, unpredictable feeling that has you happy all the time wearing rose coloured glasses, speaking in cliches and unable to write properly because you are too damn happy.

I miss that feeling. I'm craving it. And I'm just about ready for it.

I can only hope there's someone, somewhere ready to shine their light on me. I can't wait to bathe in that beautiful, warm, soft golden light. You know that light in the late afternoon, when the world sparkles golden and warm, even on a cold day...thats what love feels like...that time of day.

Charlie

At the shop where I work, an old man would visit every day, at the same time...about five o'clock. He would shuffle in, giving a left hook to the air, and sit down on the usual chair. He'd give my boss one of about ten lotto tickets to put his name on, take Gerry's share, and then chat about the troubles of the world. Inevitably, the conversation would allow a trip back in time. We head back to the time he shone shoes in the city, and got a measly tip from a politician. Or the time he met Frank Sinatra ("not a bad bloke at'all") or when Louis Armstrong showed him the warts on the inside of his lower lip from playing the trumpet. Or the there was the time he saw a guy roughing up a young lady in the street, and when he came to her defence, got whacked with the butt of a gun for his troubles. 13 stitches...the nurse said the doctor must have thought he was sewing up a bag of potatoes. All theses stories and more, I heard them every day at the end of trade. The same stories over and over, but such great stories. he would promise to buy me a new car and "a couple of boyfriends" when he and Gerry won the lotto. Sometimes he's bring a little present for me...a nail polish, some skin care samples, a mini torch, an alarm clock. Once he bought in something extra special... a 50cent coin from 1966, 70 per cent silver, "for luck...its bought me alot of luck". A week later, he brought in an American silver dollar from 1921. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world" I said. A couple of weeks after that, he gave me a dollar note that has never been circulated.
His greatest gift to me was his time with me. Listening to his stories gave me time with the grandfathers I was too young to appreciate, too grown up and busy to see, and who were gone too soon.
We haven't seen Charlie since very early in the new year. We suspected the worst, and John finally told me the other day, that he really was gone. He'd found out from another store that Charlie used to visit. Had we known we would've gone to the funeral. I would've worn something bright and colourful. Charlie always said "you're lookin' lovely" when I wore bright colours. And hopefully, Charlie got his "mahogany overcoat", "none of that cheap crap" as he once declared.

See ya' Charlie, I'll miss you. Give 'em hell up there.

The "D" Word

For the last six weeks or so, I have been suffering from mild depression. Thats what the quizzes on the Beyond Blue website tell me, what my doctor suspects is a Saratonin problem, and what I have come to acknowledge...with my head hung in embarrassment. You don't realise the stigma attached to the word "depression" until it is attached to you, and by then you hate yourself already so what difference does it make.
I've always been an emotional chick, like a regular chick, but more so. It comes with being a "creative" type, and to be honest its usually more a blessing than anything else. I am able to act, and write and perform as well as I do because I am emotional. It makes me the woman I am, caring, empathetic and compassionate. Now, however, I am sad and have been every day for the last six weeks or so. Its more involved than "Oh, its raining and I miss my family". That feeling passes in a day, or when the sun comes out.What goes on in my head is this: I hate my life, I don't know what to do to change it, I'm crap at everything, I'll never do anything worthwhile, nobody loves me, no one will ever love me because I am unlovable, I have a shit job, I am an embarrassment to my family.......and so it goes, over and over in my head like clothes in a washing machine.
I go through this on a fairly regular basis, always the same frustrations at where I find myself and not knowing what to do about it. After a week or so I'm usually distracted by something and I'm sunny again. When it had been going on for a month I realised that something wasn't right. Even I'm not this dramatic. So I took myself to the doctor, swallowed my considerable pride, and asked if he might refer me to a shrink or something. He asked a few questions, explained something about stress and Saratonin and told me to start taking St Johns wort and do some reading on a couple of websites, Beyond Blue being one of them.
Meanwhile, I had arranged a few days off from work, to give me some time, at least a little, to sort my head out. This is day three, the last day, and I feel a little better. I'm not teary, and I'm trying to block the negative thoughts that lurk around me. Whether or not the herbal anti-depressant (another icky word) has worked or not is debatable, but I have been less teary this week in general, so I'm guessing that has something to do with it. I may still see someone to talk through some things, but I'm not interested in blaming my past and parents on why I'm a mess now. I'm pretty sure I'm a grown up and can screw things up all on my own.
I've spent my few days off trying to be nice to myself ( not easy when I don't really like myself much right now) and reading a dodgy old self-help (yuck) book on positive thinking. Its basically the same theory as "The Secret", but I'm pretty sure this bloke isn't a zillionaire now.

Anyway... the bad news is this won't go away in a hurry.

The good news is, I'm feeling better today, at this moment.

The Mean Reds

I am in a grade A funk. It started when dad left for home and half an hour later I found $100 hidden under the remote. I always argue with him when he tries to give me money, so he hid it...my lovely dad. I immediately started missing him, which turned into homesickness, which turned into feeling lonely ,which has turned into the terrible, vague and totally shit feeling I have now. Its taken a little over a week to get here and I'd like to go back now.

From where I stand right now, everything looks crap. My flat, my clothes, money, my damn job...especially my damn job. I basically hate the world and can't think of a thing to bring myself out of it. Alcohol certainly isn't helping,I tried cutting pictures out of magazines to make an inspiring poster ( I know...I'm disgusted with myself), I'm even watching Bridget Jones...but the dvd's fucking up for some reason and I'm tempted to throw it off the fucking balcony. Now I'm wondering if a nice hot bath will do the trick...

What I really want is a break from myself. I want to get out of my head for a bit, which is always spinning and twisting at the best of times, but is now effecting my heart. Or is it my heart effecting my head? Hmmm, there's a thought...yet another that will lead me nowhere tonight. Perhaps I'll play a computer game, perhaps I'll organise my make up drawer...what ever I end up doing tonight, I will try not to do it while thinking about being lonely, stupid and lost. Maybe things will be better in the morning.

I hope where ever you are tonight, you are resting easy, laughing freely and not suffering from the mean reds.

Daddy's Girl

Lets get one thing straight...I am not a daddy's girl. In fact, I'm not a mummy's girl either. My family isn't the touchy, feely, let's-spend-time-together type... We don't hate each other- you understand, we just don't spend time together...ever.
My sister and I are close and we speak on the phone a few times a week, enjoy each others company, until we don't. Mum and I were close in my late teens, but as I've grown up and she's grown older,and slightly more dotty, we've drifted a bit.
I've never known my dad really. Don't get me wrong he's always been around, but when I was young he was working constantly. The only time i could catch time with him was when he was working in the garage. I would wander in sit on a stool and chat while watching him work. he was always building something, or carving or fixing something. That was my only time with him, so you can imagine my jealousy when he and my sister started going out to pony club and actually hanging out. I was green with envy and it was a very unbecoming colour.
But now I'm thirty, all grown up. Mature...or something.
Dad has been here visiting for the last couple of days. He came to bring a big dvd cabinet he made me (with very groovy ladies legs on the front), as well as the xmas presents I couldn't fit in my car. Last night I took him to the bar and introduced to all the regulars...all blokes I might add. The King promised that I was safe and well looked after there, and everyone was very sweet...and i think dad had a good time. Today we had a lazy morning then headed out to look for furniture to fill my empty house. Finding a couch in my price range, and that I really like, is proving to be a tad difficult, but today I think we narrowed it down to three, and Dad said he send me more money to help out. We ( I mean he) bought a t.v stand and some cool bar stools, then he spent the late afternoon putiting it all together and rearranging furniture.
He's now trying to fix my car which suddenly has a flat battery...what would I do without him?

I've really loved having him here. This is literally the first time we've ever spent any extended period of time together, just us, and its been lovely. I feel safe, secure and loved.

How I will miss this feeling, and him, when he goes home. Maybe I am a daddy's girl after all.

A place called Home

My new favourite thing is shopping for homewares. I've always loved it, but now that I feel at home, and really plan to stay a while, its taken on a whole new meaning.
First of all I unpacked a few wall hangings I've been given as gifts but never put anywhere ( no room, no hooks or just no ability to make a shared house mine) and actually put them up in the bathroom and loo (of all places) and they look fantastic. I've unpacked my pictures and put them around the living room, and finally I have the space to get more.
Today I was forced to get up early for the delivery of my mattress, and while waiting I hung my Marylin picture and "Desiderata", took down the xmas tree and started making room for my old bed in the spare room. Tomorrow my fab new leather bed arrives.....ooohhh!!!
Today i went into Howards Storage World. If you've never been, you must go as soon as possible. Anything you could want to organise your home in a gorgeous way , and even things you didn't know you wanted, are there, and today I finally made a purchase... a clear suction capped basket for the shower. Fabulous!! I can't wait to put it up. My bathroom is going to be so cool!

Perhaps its a tad pathetic to be such a homebody, but right now...I don't give a shit!! I'm as happy as a pig in mud! And oh so excited to show it off to my dad when he visits on Monday.

Life is good... but don't tell anyone I said that.

My Castle, my life part two

Actually lets forget about xmas. Even though I got to go home and spend it with my family, it was pretty uneventful. I got some great gifts, saw my mates and was annoyed by my great aunt. other than that, it was nice to have a few days off.
The only bummer with visiting Canberra, is that every now and then I wonder if maybe I should move home. The fact of the matter is I could be doing what I'm doing here in Melbourne back at home, while being surrounded by the people who love me most. I only moved away because I wanted to be an actress, and thats not really happening. In fact I'm not really trying.
And that brings me to my next problem...what the fuck am I doing here? I gave myself a year off from dating and worrying about the whole acting thing. I needed the break from both, but I'm having trouble getting back in the game...on both counts.
If I were in Canberra I'd be hanging out with my sis and my girlfriends, getting out and doing things. But I'm here, living this life I created and not entirely enjoying it. I love Melbourne, but does it love me? I feel stuck in retail because I don't have the skills to do anything else, and I don't want to get yet another job that I can't stand.
On the man front...well there are no men. I haven't dated in a million years, and the last bloke sniffing around was my ex who remembered why he didn't like me. I don't go out because I have no single friends to go out with, and the friends I do have are young and coupled up, or married with children. So that leaves me hanging out at The King Of Tonga with all the regular crew, who are all lovely blokes but no options there.
You see my problem(s) don't you?
With all this swishing around in my head, I am also making plans. I'll start teaching dancing again at a scout hall every monday night, I'll start taking drama classes at "the nash" again, I'll train myself on computers in order to get a new job as a p.a somewhere fab, and somehow I will make myself open to meeting a new bloke...even though there are no men.
In the mean time I'm feathering my nest. Unpacking, putting things up that I haven't bothered with before, and generally enjoying being a homebody (thats a trap). I went couch shopping today and actually found one I liked, but it was $200 out of my price range. It doesn't sound like much, but I'm using dad's money and I can't bear to ask for more. So, I continue on my quest...and I'm kinda loving it.
So I guess things aren't so bad. Lots to think about (as usual), lots to plan, lots to buy and lots to do.
Perhaps it'll be a good year...

Cross your fingers for me... and Happy New Year.