adventures of dani

my hasn't it been a while

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Wed, 28 May 2008 03:37:45 +1000

I have missed the ability to write.

It has been so long. So disconnected.

What have you missed? I started a new job and no longer have to walk close to a million miles to get to work. I now have the internet at home so I am free to blog and flog and fill out all the surveys that I want. The month of May was madness.

Lets start at the begining, the very begining of May - I got dumped via text.

That hurt. In fact it still hurts. The man was a machine. One hell of a machine. All I get now is stalking on facebook. Then, what started as allowing myself one day of self pity and over indulgence, ended in a total whirlwind of a month.

It didn't fix anything, but then I already knew that it wasn't going to didn't I.

I'm just a girl who is still pining over the last boy. Someone save me.

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week 8 - that long already

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 22:22:30 +1000

Two months here already?

Me thinks its time to find cheaper accomidation, extra work and get a move on with meeting my goals!

The past two weeks have been absolute shite, but you know what? Fuck it.

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week 7 - not like heaven

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 22:08:03 +1000

Apparently I can't count.

It is, apparently, week eight. But, for the sake of chi and flow and mojo, we'll keep with it being week seven.

Psycho-bitch is rearing her ugly head. But I have come to understand, that PB is totally related to the ugly thing we know as emotions. Emotions complicate everything, and I swear to you, that somewhere over the course of last week my heart tried to drug and convince my brain to go to Mexico without any papers, so that it could reign supreme. AND, it almost succeded. Stupid heart.

It's a good thing I have my head screwed on straight.

But let me tell you about the near miss. I was out, the manhunk was there, we shared a many a bevvies, and somewhere in the course of the evening it had occured to me that it was the first time I had seen him in several days.

I went in to steal a cheeky hug when there was no one around. He just stood there, staring blankly, hands at his side. A little later in the evening I put my hand on his thigh, his knee jerk reaction was to freak out. Insert nervous giggle and death stares anywhere along here now.

So a few bevvies later and his housemate and I are in an indepth squabble, does he be neutral? Like fuck he does, he tells me to calm down. Clearly I was upset and left the venue. Not because I'm a drama queen, but because I knew that the only thing that would follow my tears would be the mascara.

Do I get anything from the manhunk? Nothing but a lonely gal going to bed thinking that she really is a PB.

The next day I realise that it wasn't the freak out reactions to my drunken attempts of public displays of affection, it wasn't even so much that he took his mates side instead of being NEUTRAL - which - at his age he should definately have known better, it was the fact that I was clearly distressed when I left, and he did nothing. Not a text, not a call, not even a telepathic 'I hope you are safe and not getting beat up by some random chav and her pram'.

Furthermore, in conclusion, it is clear that I have developed feelings for the manhunk. And now, I want to go and cry. Instead though, I will pre-occupy myself with house hunting, cleaning the one I currently have and getting this tyre off me. I tried to talk to him today, but that little nicker inside, that one that says I deserve better then someone who just assumes I'm a drama queen, wouldn't shut up.

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week 6 - pick up sticks

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Mon, 31 Mar 2008 22:49:17 +1000

Ya know, it's hard to conceive that I've only been in the UK for six weeks now. It feels so much longer then that.

The hunnymoon is over. It's buckle down and get ready to pay the rent time. The plastic has stopped working - and rightly so, after all it was only a matter of time that the banks back home gave up on me.

Today? 31st of March, planning a quiet as possible April, a travel buddy is planning to stop by this week, really wishing that I hadn't said anything. But hey, it's time to give back - right? I've been blessed with offers and many of which I have taken people up on during my travels, least I can do is share a bed for a few days. If worse comes to worse, I'll just invite myself to the manhunks place and invade. Bless him.

All the shit he has to deal with when it comes to me. It's a wonder he has managed to last this long and not put a foot out of place, well, except for that time I thought he forgot to pick me up from a mates place. Being the psycho-bitch that I am, I stormed off on foot, groceries and luggage in tow, cursing him the whole way home.

I find myself sounding more and more english as the days pass. I really don't want to, I like my aussiness, but I'm struggling. Just like rear and thighs. 11 stone. 11 freaking stone. Now, most half sane women wouldn't advertise that sort of information, but the frustration that attempting to pull a pair of jeans on caused on Saturday night was just too much to handle.

They got the thighs and just stopped. Lay down on the floor and suck your stomach in said one friend. Just keep squatting in them said another. I cried, the zip caught a very sensitive piece of skin. So then I pulled out the fat top and jeans and went on my way. Today? Today I start fresh. Healthy Dani. Good Dani. Going to tone up and loose all this weight Dani.

Oh, and on the travel horizon, I'm thinking Portugal in May. Braga, Lisbon and Fatima - suggestions?

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Week 5 - and the beat goes on

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 00:15:26 +1100

The extra long weekend away with the ManHunk by the sea was wonderful.

Although I can't say I was expecting to be climbing hills and walking along cliffs, but the effort and the heart and chest feeling like it was going to explode were well worth it. He though never broke a sweat. Jerk.

The south coast of England is stunning. Dorset. And unlike home, everything (despite how far it looks on a map) is only ever a little bit away. We walked around Lulworth Cove up to Durdle Door and back again. Up and down the Jurrasic coast around Kimmeridge and up to Gold Down. Stunning. Then there was Swanage which was absolutely beautiful in its shore-side-ness and pier and sailing races. Werham with it's quaintness. Studland with its beach streaching for miles upon miles and Poole and fish and chips in Bournemouth and so much more.

The best part? The absolute awe of the place. This is why I am here again, it's proof that England isn't all bad. In fact, so far, it's only the people with grim ideals and opinions that bring this place down.

Conversations were had, and even though ground rules were laid and we both knew exactly what this would be, it didn't extinguish the sting when I was reminded. But, we still make plans, we're still there for the end of day wrap up and we still live in denial about any feelings existing.

So back to the grind, memories in hand.

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week 4 - la la land

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 21:30:04 +1100

I don't think I'm crazy.

sure as hell hope the ManHunk doesn't think I'm crazy, but in hindsight of the past two weeks, I think he can be completly forgiven.

And his collected major brownie points for actually entertaining my crazyness.

What exactly am I on about? I miss my niece. Alot. And all I have wanted to do, is to spend a day playing with a toddler. So much so that I suggest we maybe kiddnap HIS niece - who is about the same age - for a day. I've even told him that the thought of running up to and just playing with strangers kids in the street has crossed my mind. For some reason I have noticed just how many kids there are in this town.

And him? Well he has even suggested we have dinner with his work mate who has two little adorable boys I could do some finger painting with.

Bless him. I give him a week before he starts running for the high hills.

It's hard to believe I've been here for a month. I just feel so busy all the time. Trying to plan eventful and cheap weekends so that I don't miss anything. My working week is my normality.

Oh, and by the way, just to gloat a little more, we are going to Dorset for the easter break. ManHunk, me and a little cottage by the sea.

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weak one.

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 19:15:17 +1100

So, I could have - and I believe me I did - do all the day dreaming in the world but none of it was of any help.

Fresh off the plane I scanned the awaiting crowd for a familiar face, just quickly, then made my way to the train. It's not like I was expecting anyone, it just would have been nice. You know, to be swept off my feet, just like in the movies.

Fresh off the train, phone in hand, I'm informed that I don't - in fact - have a place to stay, or a job, or the money that is owed to me.

I sat there. Deflated. Cold. Without a clue. Had I packed the backpack instead of the suitcase, I would have just caught the next train to anywhere. But suitcases are so uncool.

So, off to the pub I went.

Beers for breakfast, shoes for lunch, a sparkley top for tea and good company to boot. I had made it through the first day without killing anyone, or myself. Perhaps things would work out.

And then it was Valentines Day. I totally played it down. That is after all what all the cool chicks do. We had dinner reservations and it took me forever to get ready. But I looked good. And when I saw the ManHunk for the first time since arriving, I felt good. I laughed and laughed and fell asleep in his arms laughing. Now that is what a knight in shining armour should strive to achieve. A whole heap of laughter. Yep, all the way to the point of exhaustion.

Then two days later came the big question. He tried to play it down, being the international playboy he is and all.

Hunk: "so, you want to be my bird?"

ahhh, such a way with words.

I thought about it. Freaked out about it. And then realised that he was looking slightly uneasy, maybe at the silence, or maybe because he needed to pee, either way I felt like I was put on the spot.

Me: "I don't know, I'm not keen on limiting my options"
Hunk: "oh I think you misunderstood, I meant be one of my birds?"

Blah to him.

He scares me. A man with a great career that he enjoys. A man who is stable? A man who, well, most women would love to have an opportunity to be with, and I, I feel inadequate?

What has the world come to?

I'll have to work on not letting on about the lack of confidence. All I need is....a job.

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Feb 13th

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 22:30:07 +1100

Alright, I like to day dream. Sometimes a lot. Sometimes my day dreams are harmless, most times they end up with me being disappointed. See it all just happens so fast in my head. The poor bastard has no time to catch up.

The latest day dream? I'll arrive in the UK and the escapades with the ManHunk will pick up where they left off and I'll enjoy the rest of my visa time there in butterfly bliss. He, of course, will spend the next year with a lovely /feisty /adventurous lady on his arm. Namely me.

Despite the fact that jokingly he mentioned he would be an international play boy by easter. Fat chance. We all know men lie about these things. Right? What ever, my defense? I don't care.

There was a point here....

I am trying to find a place to live that isn't where I work. Live in pub jobs just aren't that great, especially if they come with their very own squatter and resident crazy grounds keeper who insists on leading people to believe he has some type of authority by wearing a business shirt to water the flowers. Crazy bastard. I know, I've been on the receiving end.

So I get an email about a house share. She's an older lady with a cat (you know, this could be handy, get some pointers perhaps?) and a spare double room only 3 miles from where I'll be working. But I can't inspect it when she wants me to, namely because I wont be in the country. So she sends me a lovely reply "If it's still empty by the 13th, I'll let you know".

Do you think she would have been so snotty had I said the truth about my arrival date? Seriously, who wants to be in transit for 24 hours and then go and check a house out? I want to have breakfast with my girlfriend, have a shower and then go to the pub for lunch and a bottle of white wine. I'm just asking for it aren't I? Maybe I don't want it bad enough, either way, today the day dream seems a little further out of reach then the usual impossible.

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it's time for introductions

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Mon, 04 Feb 2008 05:23:54 +1100

I'm not your 30-something-wondering-why-she's-single type. For starters, I'm not THAT old, and I know why I am single. It's a state of readiness.

See, some years ago my teen come young adult relationship ended. Even though it was my doing and then when I tried to undo it the bastard blatantly refused, I was devastated. For months I lost my appetite for food and just stuck to simple carbs like vodka.

Looking back over the past, say three years, I've developed certain habits and in no particular order;

-I roam the planet at every opportunity. I have tried to come home and establish some sort of normality, but I just get the itch (not the type that can be fixed with creams and a one time pill) to pack and go to some random country that's not too far away from another random country just in case I find myself out of my depth.
-I'm slowly but surely ridding myself of all my worldly possessions. If it can't fit in the back pack - it's not worth having. Sometimes the culling has lead me to tears, but it just has to be done.
-Other culling that has not lead me to tears - people. Not literally. Just out of my life. One step, two step and sometimes I allow three steps to turn me off and you're done. Seriously. Delete. Just like they never existed.
-I'm liking my own company more and more. After all, at least I get all of my jokes.
-I have serious commitment issues. The simplest things. I eat ALL food. I like ALL types of music - yeah, including country. I mean, I can't even commit myself to a job for longer then six months or come to think of it, even a country.
and finally and most alarmingly
-I only get involved in relationships that I know will end.

Which leads us to my latest escapade.

I'm going to the UK because there is a boy. His fun. Also very handsome. I met him on my last trip.

Yes, yes, believe me I have done this before and fell flat on my face. In fact, it was just six months ago. The difference this time though, is, that I don't care. I'm not wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm not investing any exuberant time or effort on him, his just going to be my ManCandy until I get bored and make my way to the next country.

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testing to the one, two, three....

nobody@vox.com(dani) — Tue, 20 Mar 2007 23:46:07 +1100

Obviously this is a test to see how this whole shin dig looks and works.

However, should you fell compelled to comment, please, feel free!

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