What to wear on a first date... with a fashion designer...

Fact is, I was intimidated. The huge decision of what to wear is bad enough on any first date... when he's a fashion designer? It's HELL!

Did I tell you I was back on RSVP?

That I decided it was time to 'get out there' again? That reality is, I am sometimes lonely and that whilst I am not unhappy being single, I think there is much to be said about finding a great partner. Trouble is, it's actually not that easy to meet eligible single men... So, here I am back internet dating. 

I've done it before, way back in 2006, and decided recently it's time to give it another go. I have been pretty cautious this time. Being very choosy about who I agree to contact/email. Taking it slow, not expecting Mr Perfect to contact me in the first day, though of course hopeful he will materialize at some stage, and hopefully sooner rather than later.

He had a great profile. Well written, witty, no corny name, an interest in art and design. And so I said I was interested and he emailed me back. And so we corresponded online getting to know each other, as much as one can in a format than can be edited and composed any number of times before the send button is pressed. And finally we agreed to meet.

OK. As I said, I was intimidated. And meeting in person where he could actually SEE me, was ridiculously nerve-racking. Needless to say, I asked friends for advice. And the replies... dress up, dress down, dress short were little comfort. And finally, the one true response that would work for me... just be yourself.

And last night (Thursday) we had our first date.

We met at Fed Square and took a quick look at a late opening exhibition of collaborative artwork in "The Studio" where we chatted to a couple of the artists, before heading up to an outdoor cafe for a drink and catch up while watching the world go by.

It was a beautiful evening to be out and about in Melbourne. Balmy with a light breeze. Perfect weather to wear a hand-sewn skirt with fitted top, a light jacket and flattie shoes. Pretty much me. And the thing is, dressed as I was, even though I was nervous, I figure if he didn't like me because of my sense of fashion, then it was never going to be a match made in heaven anyway.

Was he nice? Yes. 

Were there sparks? Not really, no. Actually, no. None. 

Will I see him again? Not so sure about that.

But the thing is, if I do, I'm already worrying about what to wear and I'm not sure I can handle the stress...

Where to begin?

I have an absolute stack of books that I am attempting to read at the moment (this is just the first pile)...
I have so many, I'm not even sure where to begin...
Any recommendations on where to start?

Making a list and checking it twice...

Passport - check.

Tickets - check.

Money/credit cards - check.

Flat cleaned, paperwork sorted, bills paid.

Check, check, check.

Washing done - check.

House sitter organised - check.

Late minute catch ups with friends - check.

Work replacement organised - check.

Lift to airport booked - check.

Tim tams, cherry ripes, caramello koalas packed?

Check check check.

Ready to go?

check!

Waiting for the call that didn't come?

Sorry guys. There will be no call from Barbados in the near future at least...

I know, you must be as disappointed as I am!

Stay tuned, there is another big draw coming up on Saturday!
And I have the winning ticket...
I am sure of it!

Will you accept a collect call from Barbados?

Tonight there is a $20,000.000 lottery draw.
And I have the winning ticket.
I am sure of it.
And next week, you may well be getting a call...
From here ...
though of course, I won't have to call collect now will I?

Wish me luck!

(The pic is not actually Barbados, as I haven't been there yet, it's another photo from my travels, this time from Egypt.)

Could it be me in National Geographic?

Last weekend I was at my parents home in Point Lonsdale (small seaside town in Victoria, Australia) helping with a major spring clean of their home that has been ongoing for the last few months. It is an overwhelming task, mostly as the belongings of my parents have been accumulated over the course of many years and my father in particular is an incredible hoarder. This past weekend was set to be another negotiation of what was to be discarded and what to be saved as we tackled the linen press where things had been hidden away for years.

Amongst the bedding, beach towels and childhood games there was an extensive collection of National Geographic magazines, some from as long ago as 1967, the year that I was born. My father (true to form and totally expected) did not want to get rid of the magazines and so it was decided to dust them all off and return them to the shelves. As we flicked through them and placed them back, I collected a few of interest, including an edition that included an article about Dian Fossey and the mountain gorillas from 1970 and another with an article about Jane Goodall. As I continued to stack the magazines back onto the shelves, another one caught my eye as I glimpsed the words Zaire River on the spine.

I opened it up, flicked to the article and exclaimed to my mother that here was the river I had once travelled, and on this very barge that was pictured in the article. It was a part of my travels in Africa that I had never been able to describe accurately as words could not do justice to the experience and I did not have any pictures of this journey. We were advised before boarding that security was a problem and it would be best to avoid carrying anything of any value with us. As we would be sleeping on the roof of one of the barges, with no real protection, most of us decided it was good advice and so most cameras were left with friends who would not be making the trip.

And so, as you may imagine, to find the article was an absolute treat for me and I was quite thrilled with the images in particular, as they bought to life a journey I had taken nearly 21 years ago.

The crocodile under the stairs, the chimpanzee that was for sale in the bar and the barge-side sales were all as I had remembered, not to mention the incredible conditions and the number of people on board. No-one could really have imagined the reality of that barge without being there or without seeing these images. It was unlike anything I had ever seen before, nor seen since.

The article was published in 1991, less than two years after I was there and it didn't occur to me at first that it could have been our trip... and yet, as I looked closer, I noticed there were a number of white people in a small group on the roof of one of the boats and in fact 3 of them looked remarkably like 3 of the people in my group. Their stance and their heights and their features were certainly familiar. Seriously. I was stunned.

Could this photo have been taken at the same time we were there and could they really be people I knew? It wasn't until the following day during closer examination that I noticed another 3 people sitting further along on the highest point of the 5 boats and I think one of them might be me!

Now, this may not be of particular interest to you, but to me, to have this article bring my memories to life and that it is POSSIBLE that it is actually me there in this amazing photo in National Geographic... well that to me is so so exciting. The photographer Robert Caputo has captured the essence of what that trip was to me.

I read the article with interest and according to the magazine there was a film made of the journey and I am of course, eager to watch it and will have try to contact National Geographic to find out if it is available.

In the meantime, through the magic of the internet and Google, I visited Robert Caputo's website and here is a link to the amazing photo. His photos are available for sale via Aurora Photos and I have emailed them in an attempt to contact him and find out the dates the photos were taken.

I travelled in Africa for the first 4 months of 1989 and according to my diary we boarded the barge on Feb 19th in Kisangani and disembarked at Lisala just 3 days (and a huge adventure) later. How incredible if these photos were taken on the very same journey. And how amazing that nearly 21 years later, I should happen upon the article in a pile of magazines that had not been touched for years.

I hope to hear from Robert sometime soon and will let you know what he says.

A $15 bottle of hair colour does amazing things for a girl’s confidence...

I've been pretty cranky this week.
Mostly about work, but not that excited about much else either. September is often like this for me as I drag myself out of my winter slump. But work is especially getting me down. Whenever new work drops into my intray, I sigh with resignation that it's groundhog day again. Same thing, day in, day out.

Most days I just get on with it, but some days it gets me down. Yesterday was one such day. And it showed.

I was less than receptive when Amy (client and also good friend) dropped a job to me and I showed her little enthusiasm. I only managed a weak smile and I later emailed her to apologise. She has known for a long time that I am not happy at my work, and her response was a big cyber hug into my email inbox.

You haven’t been happy here for a long time. That’s before the job crapiness, and before your brother died and everything. I think it’s time we let the butterfly out of the cage... Where would you like to spread your wings Miss?

And herein lies my biggest problem. I really don't know. I have absolutely NO eFn IDEA where to spread my wings.

Her reply to me:
Ok, tell me when in the last 5 – 10 years you have felt happiness. When have you been complete and most at peace. Give me a place, or an event, or a set of circumstances. Just think about it and then type without judgement...

And so she reminded me once again to look for my happiness where I have found it in the past...

Learning new stuff.
Especially creative things.
Spending time creating and being with people who are positive and enthusiastic about doing the same.
And writing.
And hanging out with friends.
And family at the right times.
And when I am challenging myself.
And feeling good about myself.
These things make me happy.
But right now... I feel like a troll.
An angry shitty, disagreeable TROLL.
With bad hair.
send.

And the wise (and loving) reply...

Well, so far I haven’t seen anything that can’t be fixed. You may have momentarily forgotten this, so I’ll happily remind you...

Ah hem. You are a wonderful, kind, creative, talented, inspiring, motivated, funny, gorgeous, warm, caring, articulate, sensitive, original and incredibly strong woman. You WILL find a way to get back to your whole self, it’s coming, promise. You continue to grow your repertoire of talents, whether that’s in the creative area, or just dealing with different sorts of people, all of these are the skills that will get you to where you want to go. Go home tonight and do something that makes you feel more like you. And a $15 bottle of hair colour does amazing things for a girl’s confidence, trust me! ;)

Awww Ames... what can I say, but thanks. Your reminders and support have got me through to the end of the week. How awesome, that whilst working in a job that I don't much like, I have found such a great friend. That alone makes coming in every day that much easier. Thanks.

Oh, and that hair dye is top of my shopping list for the weekend.
It's a good place to start. And a bit of a lazy start on Saturday.

Have a nice weekend everyone.

No sugar for a month? Who's bright diea was THAT?

Call me crazy, but I decided to have no sugar for a
month. No sweets, no lollies, no cakes, desserts, biscuits, cookies, no
fizzy drinks. Of course I knew I couldn't avoid all sugars, but I have
declined any offers on theafore mentioned goodies.

It sounded
like a great idea at the time. Of course, these things always do sound
better in ones own heads. I have no-one but myself to blame.

And
it has not been easy. I am a person who includes chocolate in the major
food groups. And here at day 25, it seems harder than days 1, 2 and 3.
Right now, all I want is chocolate. Forget the cakes etc, I'm not
really bothered. But chocolate is infiltrating all my thoughts.

Last
night I even dreamed I ate chocolate. And as I was half way through I
realised what I had done. I even felt guilty! And this morning I woke
up wanting it even more.

Roll on next Wednesday... July 1st is chocolate day!

Dreaming of escape to a simpler life...

There are days, as the summer fades into autumn and I sit at my desk after a long week-end, that I dream of escape.

I don't want much really... a peaceful view of the water, sunshine on my shoulders, sand between my toes, a pile of books, a few pens, brushes and an empty notebook... and a caravan in which to make up a mug of hot chocolate in the cooler evenings and curl up each night.

This little beauty is an Airstream Bambi, and you can buy one here. At $51,000 it's a bit out of my price range (and I think that might even be US dollars), so I'll just have to keep dreaming.

I think I might be onto something... I may never have to shop again.

And this would be a good thing. Because... (gasp of horror) I HATE TO SHOP. Seriously.

When I was small, my Mum (in an effort to avoid any confrontation) let me choose what I wanted to wear every day. She would look out the window and tell me what the weather would require and then I would dress accordingly. Pretty clever on her part, and we never did clash.

HOWEVER... I do hold her entirely responsible for the fact I have absolutely NO FASHION SENSE AT ALL! And as a result, I'm not much of a shopper. I have never been one to follow the latest fashions and would far prefer to have clothes that can be worn for however long I like them and not be met with looks of despair if worn one season too many.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not a total disaster and I do like to look good... I just don't list clothes and fashion as a high priority.

I have been saying for ages that I would love a personal shopper. Someone who knew me well enough to know what would look good on me, but also know what I wouldn't like. Someone to push me a little, but not make me look like a 40 year old trying to look like a teenager! And let's face it, I was a teenager in the 80's, so no wonder I don't want to go back there!

So, I'm at work yesterday and we're talking about the sales. And no, I haven't been. Mostly because I haven't much felt like facing the world right now. Nor battling with the crowds. And whilst I know I could do with a few bits, well... it's hardly high on the list.

I joked that I would be happy to hand over $100 to each of them (two workmates) and let them go shopping on my behalf. Well! They got all excited, they squealed with delight, smiles filled their faces, their eyes glazed a little and before I knew it, the deal was done.

Right now, I'm happy - I don't have to shop. They're happy - they get to shop and spend someone else's money. And hopefully, when they return with all their bargains, I will be even happier... They may even get a regular gig.

Seriously, I think I might be onto something.
I may never have to shop again.
Wish me luck!