This weekend my internet connection has been problematic, dropping out at random and without warning. Very annoying. I’ve been trying to get a couple of half-written articles completed, but it just hasn’t been possible, so I’ve found my mind going around in circles, throwing up lots of questions that have been stewing around in there for awhile.

Questions like:

What niche am I in?

What do I offer my readers? What more can I give?

What’s unique about me?

Should I write an e-book, and what would it be about?

What can I do to move my subscriber numbers to the next level?

And the big one that’s been circulating for some time; should I cut SHE-POWER Fiction?

You’re probably thinking right now, “Wow, she really doesn’t know what she’s doing here.” And you’d be right. At least a little bit anyway.

Like my life itself, this blog is a work in progress and I tend to live and write by gut instinct. Everything you’ve ever read on this blog has poured forth from my heart and soul. Even if an article has seemed trivial to you, it’s been authentic and meaningful to me at the time I published it. On that day, those words, whether mundane or profound, were the words I wanted to communicate to you.

That said, this blog is not just about me. YOU are the reason I take time away from my young son and family and friends to blog on a regular basis. You may not have been here in the beginning when SHE-POWER was started, but the blog was nothing then. It was an idea, a catchy url. Now it’s a tool that I use to serve and entertain YOU.

So tell me, what is SHE-POWER to you? Do you have any feedback you’d like to share with me? Because for a chick that usually has a lot to say, I’m going to go out on a limb and admit I’m a bit stumped for answers here. I know the ideas I’m trying to communicate, but I don’t know what you’re actually receiving.

One decision I have made for the moment is to move SHE-POWER Fiction to its own page.

As an aspiring novelist, this category is very important to me. I not only want to share my stories and characters with an audience, but I want to impose a public discipline on myself to keep up my fiction writing.

That said, I’m not sure SHE-POWER is the right place for fiction. Some of you are devoted fans of my current storyline with Clarissa and Scott and email and write me with encouragement. I really appreciate that, thank you. Many others don’t seem to click through and read these posts. So, what to do?

For the moment, the next extract of SHE-POWER Fiction will be the last blog post. After that, I’ll post a quick message to let you know I’ve updated the Fiction Page, but you’ll then have to follow a link to read the story extract. That way, people who are interested get their Clarissa and Scott fix, and people who aren’t can just ignore the notification.

I will also get a chance to see how many people are actively seeking the stories, which will help me decide what to do with SHE-POWER Fiction long term. I have thought about moving all fiction to another writing site, but I’ll make that decision in due course.

Hope you’re having a great weekend, and I look forward to hearing any thoughts you might have about the future of this blog.

Kelly

Photo by aussiegall

Okay, I know I was supposed to publish my post about how I lost 9kgs while eating chocolate cake today - and believe me it’s coming - but I just couldn’t concentrate on finishing it because this morning I booked my family a 4 WEEK EUROPEAN VACATION!

This is super exciting news because:

1. Hello… a month in SPAIN, PARIS and LONDON. Who wouldn’t be excited?
2. This will be the first family holiday my husband and I have ever had with our son
3. This will be the first time in 9 years that my husband and I have actually gone overseas TOGETHER. You may recall from my post about The most daring thing I have ever done that I have travelled extensively on my own, so the fact that this time we are going to SHARE adventures is a big deal for us.

As you can imagine, I can’t really concentrate today because I feel like I have ants running through my veins and I’ve madly vacuumed, tidied the house and wandered around town in a daze. The day is fading fast, and I can’t really think where it’s gone, but I know I’ve been busy and my mum bought me a Lonely Planet book for Spain, and we did go to the shops and I spent $15 on fruit and vegetables, but I have no idea what I bought.

I feel like my head is screwed on someone else’s body and all that’s going through my mind is:

“Spain. I’m going to Spain. Paris. I’m finally going to return to Paris, and with my husband. Yay, romance!”

Then the daze shifts slightly and now it’s,

“Omigod, I’m going to fly on an airplane with my 4 year old for 23 hours. Am I INSANE?”

There’s so much I have to organize and I’ll have to draw up a to-do list, but at the moment I’m so scatty I can’t think past passports. I’ve got to get my son a passport.

We leave on May 24th, so you can expect to receive some more posts about Travel, Spain, London and Paris in the coming months. And if any of you have some suggestions for must see attractions in Spain, then let me know because this is where we’ll be spending most of our time. And tips for travelling with kids. I’m going to be researching that, so any help you can offer I’d sure appreciate it.

Agh, I’m going to Spain! Cue the happy dance.

Photo by PhillipC

NB: This is NOT a sponsored review. I am not taking affiliate commissions for this book, so I have nothing to gain whether you buy it or not. This is just my opinion.

Considering it’s been out for weeks now and I’m such an avid reader of his blog, I thought it was high time I reviewed Leo Babuata’s new e-book: Zen Habits Handbook for Life.

It is not hyperbole to say Leo Babuata is a blogging phenomenon. Zen Habits started a little over a year ago and it has already allowed Leo to leave his job, score a book deal, double his income and win Best Overall Blog of 2007. Not bad for a years work.

Zen Habits Handbook for Life is Leo’s second e-book; the first being Zen to Done, his simplified take on GTD and productivity. This new release is a 75 page e-book that collects hundreds of Leo’s tips on how one can live a simpler, happier, and more productive life.

The e-book consists of three parts: Simplicity, Productivity, and Happiness, with several articles in each part. Some highlights are:

• A step by step guide to de-cluttering your home
• Edit your commitments
• Don’t do everything on your To-Do list
• 72 ways to simplify your life
• Purpose your day using Most Important Tasks (MITs)
• Focus on the big rocks of your life
• How to single task and why it’s important for your peace of mind and productivity
• Live your life consciously
• Boost your self confidence
• How to cultivate compassion

Let’s cut to the chase. Do I think you should buy it?

If you are interested in practical ideas for how to wrestle back control of an overloaded life, and find more time for yourself, your family and what’s most important to you, then Zen Habits Handbook for Life is a must.

Leo is a very precise writer. His suggestions are clearly articulated and he breaks down all processes for change into small, easy steps. There is a wealth of information in these pages and it is easy to pick and choose areas in your life where you need the most change and then implement one or two new actions. There is no fluffing about, no waffle. This man has six kids, he knows people are busy and want useful tips which can be quickly read, understood and acted upon.

The book is also well typeset and easy to scan. I was amazed at how quickly I got through it on my first read, and though I have been reading his blog for the past 5-6 months and have read some back articles, there was a lot of new material for me to get my teeth into.

Now, it must be said that all the information in Zen Habits Handbook for Life can be found on his blog for free. But who has the time to rifle through a year’s worth of articles looking for the best Zen Habits material? At a modest $6.95, and in a handy PDF format, which allows printing or searching for specific items according to classification, this book is tremendous value.

In fact, printing the e-book is a great idea because then you can underline the parts that immediately grab you, and you can read it where ever it suits, like in bed, or on the bus to work.

I also suggest reading the book a couple of times so you can really digest the material and work out the some easy changes you can make immediately. A bit of initial success will do wonders for your motivation, and help you persevere with the more resistant habits you’d like to change. And at $6.95, well that’s the price of a cup of coffee and a piece of cake, so you can’t ask for much cheaper than that!

Leo’s ideas are founded upon some basic principles:

1. Identify what’s most important to you
2. Eliminate everything else
3. Change through baby steps
4. Escape materialism and purge your life of STUFF
5. Single tasking

If this sounds like your cup of tea, then I really recommend Zen Habits Handbook for Life. Leo has used these very ideas to bring about significant changes in his own life, and I believe there’s enough inspiration and practical tools in this book to warrant everyone owning a copy.

See you tomorrow for How I Lost 9kgs and Still Ate Chocolate Cake (Yes, everything with me comes back to cake).

Kelly

Easter is over for the year and I hope you had a good one. Maybe this holiday held important religious significance for you, or maybe it was just a long weekend - a break from work and a chance to hang out with family and friends. For me, Easter is a time to focus on the ones I love, take stock of what’s important, whilst also giving thanks for all that I am blessed with.

This year, Easter had me thinking a lot about faith and the important role I believe it plays in everyone’s life. First, let me clarify what I mean by everyone needs faith. I am NOT saying everyone needs God or religion. I would not describe myself as religious, though I do have a strong faith. I believe the two are not the same thing.

To be religious, one follows the teaching of a particular religion. As I have never been baptized (my parents believed I should choose for myself when I was old enough) and I don’t follow the teachings of any particular church, I couldn’t be described as religious, though I definitely believe in God.

In writing this post, I have searched for a label to describe myself, though I am not sure why I feel the need. Perhaps it’s a sense of responsibility to clarify my ‘position’ before writing about a potentially sensitive topic, or maybe I’ve just been conditioned by the basic human need to define myself and my ‘kind’. At a base level, isn’t this what a religion does? It unites and labels a group of people as following an agreed upon belief system. By adopting the label, you are publicly stating which group you belong to so everyone knows.

I’ve searched for my group, but I’m having trouble because none of the labels seem to fit. I’m not an Agnostic or an Atheist. I thought I might be a Heathen, but upon examination, I am definitely not, and Pagan doesn’t seem right either because it’s often associated with witchcraft and being at one with the trees - two things I know very little about . The best label I have come up with so far is I am a Christian/Buddhist because I believe in God (or a higher power or the universe or Source - take your pick) and I believe in reincarnation. So, if you think that describes you, then give me a shout because it would be nice if I found more of my ‘kind’.

When I was a child, I didn’t like that I had no religion. It wasn’t that I couldn’t join a church if I wanted to; my parents were supportive of whatever choice I made. But I envied the other kids who didn’t have to think about such matters, who had been given their religious community, even if that didn’t mean anything on a day to day basis.

It’s fair to say, the majority of Australians are not actively religious. Although the 2001 Census found that 68% of Australians identify as Christian, only 17% of them go to church regularly, and 25% of Australians say they have no religion at all.

With a background like this, it’s probably no wonder that I have questioned the relevance of religion in modern life. When I was a young adult, just the word - God - made me uncomfortable. I associated it with people who would knock on my door and try to convert me, or people who abused and judged others, or committed heinous acts in the name of their beliefs. Religion in this form terrifies me.

It is only in my thirties after travelling a good part of this world and seeing many things - good and bad - that I realise I have always had spiritual faith. The only difference is it has grown clearer and stronger with the passing years. I believe in something more than myself, and what my five senses tell me is true. I believe that if animals have a sixth sense, then human beings must do too. I have spent most of my adult life honing this intuition and following it has always served me well. It is this innate knowing that believes with every fibre of my being that there is a higher power (or God) and it’s on my side. Hell, it’s on everyone’s side!

Atheists may say there is no scientific proof that God exists: faith is a feeling and one which may stem from “childhood indoctrination”. Personally, I think I am proof to the contrary as my faith in God is despite my background. But to be honest, where your faith comes from is a moot point. What’s wrong with faith as a feeling?

Don’t we see the world through a prism of perception? Isn’t all ‘truth’ an individual or commonly agreed perception? What if I go outside on a windy day and say it’s “cold”, while you say it’s “fresh and lovely”, who’s right? Aren’t we both stating what is true for us? If I look at my husband and say he’s the most handsome man I have ever seen, is this false because 100 other people don’t agree with me? I put to you that faith is exactly the same. We don’t have to agree on a common label or a common belief. The only thing that matters is we settle on beliefs that are true for us and which serve us, comfort us.

My God does not need to be relevant to anyone but me. That is the beauty of faith. My God is in all of us and around us, and between us. In my world, God is whatever you want it to be, as long as it makes you feel good. Whatever you choose to believe in - angels, God, Martians, Allah or nothing at all - make sure you believe in it because it works for you. It works for you if it makes you feel good. Any beliefs which fill you with fear should be disbanded because frankly who needs to be afraid of what they can’t see!

There’s enough ugliness in the world and on television to keep you awake at night, I say choose beliefs and thoughts which sustain you when the chaos of the world is too much to bear. Life is often unpredictable, uncontrollable and anxiety ridden so everyone can benefit from having a little faith in their life. If not faith in God, then at least have faith in your fellow human beings.

Faith is hope and the promise of brighter days to come. Sometimes faith is all we have. Maybe if we all agreed to have faith in each other, we wouldn’t need to separate ourselves with religious labels. Maybe we wouldn’t be invalidating and killing each other in the name of God or nothing at all.
Photo by Mr.Kris

This short is a continuation of SHE-POWER Fiction: Dinner Time Blues

“You were such an ass tonight.” Clarissa couldn’t help herself. She swore she’d wait until they got home, but sitting here in the taxi she felt like a fire was roaring inside her, smashing at the windows, desperate to come out.

There was no answer. Scott had his head back against the headrest; his face was slack, the overlong blond fringe stuck to one cheek, and a slight whistling rattled in time with his breathing. She could almost see his pink tongue lolling around near his lips with a fine trail of dribble threatening to roll down his chin. He looked so pathetic she was tempted to reach across and slap him.

Instead she wrapped her arms across her chest and tried not to think about what had become of her once handsome husband. These days when Clarissa looked at Scott all she saw was the curl of his lips, the permanently furrowed brow and mean glint in his once shining sea blue eyes.

She found it near impossible to remember the charming, intelligent man she’d met ten years ago. The wealthy son of a heroic General. The political science student who was going to set the international political arena alight. What had happened to that man? She had loved him so. Been in awe of him, of his drive and strong convictions. How did he become another spineless public servant, more concerned with pushing papers and covering his own behind than helping anybody?

Depression and an overwhelming sense of disappointment settled in Clarissa’s chest. Is this what her life had come to? Escorting her drunk and flirtatious husband home at two in the morning, knowing full well he had barely registered her existence tonight, and wouldn’t even notice when she went to sleep in the spare room to avoid his snoring. Tomorrow, if he followed his usual routine, he’d sleep late, read the newspaper, then spend the afternoon playing golf before coming home and getting dolled up to go out again. Their whole lives were one pointless social event after another.

Clarissa stared out the window as the cab quietly travelled through Sydney’s northern suburbs, the leafy privileged enclaves of her childhood. She could close her eyes and probably describe every single house, shop, and landmark from here to their house in Balmain. Predictable. All so bloody predictable.

“Okay, if we take the bridge? The cab driver broke through Clarissa’s melancholy.

“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

She noticed the man kept a small plastic frame of two children stuck to his dashboard. A toothy girl grinned and posed for the camera, one hand on an exaggerated hip, and a shy looking toddler, a boy she guessed, was half hiding behind his extroverted sister’s skirt.

“Are they your kids?” Clarissa asked, tryign to keep the wistfulness out of her voice. “How old are they?”

The man changed the position of his rear vision mirror so he could see Clarissa’s face. His bald head seemed to shine in the moon light, while his fleshy lips spread in a wide frog-like grin.

“This is my Lita and my Daniel. She is eight next week and he is three.” He beamed with pride and raised a finger to his lips before using it to transfer a kiss to the picture. “You got kids?”

“No.” Clarissa shook her head and turned to stare out her window. “Maybe one day.”

“Don’t leave it too late,” the man warned, making the same assumption everyone else did.

Clarissa nodded, pretending like she was listening to him. Why did everyone assume a childless woman in her thirties had chosen to be this way? Clarissa didn’t like to share her and Scott’s failures with the world, and for that she seemed destined to be pegged as the hard hitting career woman, too selfish to procreate. If only they knew.

Clarissa cast her eyes over Scott’s slack figure. She knew he blamed her of course. It had never been said, but they both knew. She tried to tell herself that they were still young, and there was nothing physically wrong . It could happen any time. But in her heart she didn’t think it ever would. Maybe her and Scott weren’t cut out to be parents. God knows they could barely function as a couple, let alone as parents.

Clarissa heard a groan come from the other side of the back seat. Scott stirred, but seemed to find his head too heavy. “Shit, I feel awful.” He rested his head against the cool glass. “We home yet?”

“We’re on the freeway and about to go over the Harbour Bridge.”

He shifted his legs awkwardly and turned bloodshot eyes on her.

She held his eyes and a long moment stretched between them. His expression was unreadable. She wished he’d say something, at least try to make things better.

“Do you have anything you’d like to say to me?”

He yawned and rubbed his cheekbones. “Like what?”

“Never mind.” Clarissa turned away and moved closer to the window. How she hated him at this moment.

“So, what was the big news you had to tell me? Let me guess, Lex is retiring and you, as resident workaholic, is in line to be his replacement.” The sarcasm was thick and there was an edge of malice in Scott’s voice that Clarissa didn’t have the energy to deal with tonight.

She decided to ignore his baiting. “You remember we’re having a barbeque tomorrow night for Ashley’s birthday.”

“Fantastic, just what I need. An afternoon spent with the one woman in the world who hates me.”

“I wouldn’t say she’s the only woman,” Clarissa snapped.

“Listen to you Miss Snippy. Come on. Tell me. what I’ve done wrong now.”

“I don’t want to argue,” Clarissa said, hating the way he always made her feel so petty. “And you know why I’m upset.”

Scott groaned. “Oh the jealousy and the drama. Seriously, what did I do? Chat a bit much to a pretty lady? Well, excuse me.”

“People will start arriving about 4pm so make sure you’re there, okay?”

“That’s a subtle way to change the subject, isn’t it?”

She gave him a pained look, and he threw his hands up.

“Fine. I’ll be there.” He was silent for a moment. “Do you need me to pick anything up tomorrow?”

Clarissa looked at him with surprise. She seriously couldn’t figure Scott out. He could be considerate one minute, then a jerk the next.”You could pick up the beer on your way home from the golf course.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll stay home tomorrow and give you a hand.”

“Really?” Clarissa was skeptical.

“Sure.”

They sat staring at each other for a moment before Scott reached across and entwined his fingers through hers. “I love you.”

What could she say to that? She leaned over to snuggle against him, her head resting against his heart, her fingers kneading into his shirt. She closed her eyes and wished it could be like this all the time.

“I love you too,” she murmured.

Photo by normanack

View from James Bond Island to the surrounding Phang Nga Bay, Phuket, Thailand

Canoing the limestone cliffs in Phang Nga Bay, Phuket, Thailand

Sampling the local hospitality

“Our happiest moments as tourists always seem to come when we stumble upon one thing while in pursuit of something else.”

— Lawrence Block, Author

The next installment of SHE-POWER Fiction will be published tomorrow

I came across this image on Photobucket and liked it, partly because of the sentiment, mostly because of the delicate sweep of the downcast eyes.

These eyelashes look like they’re frosted and they remind me of the butterfly kisses my son and I exchange. If you don’t know what butterfly kisses are, it’s when you put your eyes up close to someone else’s and flutter your eyelashes with their’s. It’s such as soft and flickering sensation, it’s like butterflies dancing across your eyes and cheeks.

The verse also stuck with me because it centres on an ideal that has danced off and on through my consciousness over the years and that is, “Do I believe in love at first sight?”

When I was a child, like most girls, I did. I believed one day I would meet the one and he would throw rose petals at my feet, slip diamonds on my fingers and sweep me away to live in his mansion where I would be kept in a style that I was keen to become accustomed to. Yes, this poor kid was only interested in a Prince Charming who was rich.

As I grew, this image of Prince Charming was influenced by raging hormones and morphed into that of a sexy rebel biker boy. Someone sweet, but misunderstood, who would throw a tattooed, careless arm across my shoulders, and kiss me until I was breathless, while whipping me around on his Harley Davidson motorcycle. Funny enough, this is a pretty good description of my first love.

Then, a few years into this relationship when the downside of the rebel biker became all too evident, I yearned for the soulmate. You know, the one you look at across a crowded room and just KNOW they are the man for you. The one your heart has been waiting for, the one who will know what you’re going to say before you say it and adore every little thing that you do.

The soulmate stage didn’t last long and 1.5 broken hearts later, I became a cynic. It was much safer I decided, than all this waiting around for men with bikes, white horses and soulful eyes. I decided lust was as good as you could hope for most of the time. In fact, it was better than love because you could trade in the object of your lustful attention for a new model every weekend if you wanted to.

Yes, I thought I had it all sorted. Nameless trysts, dancefloor pashes and hot taxi cab gropings. After all, I was a modern girl with a successful career; much too sophisticated to believe in fairy tales.

Then I made a simple decision to move to new share accommodation, and my life changed forever. I met a man who was quite unlike anyone I had ever known, and from the moment we shook hands I felt like I had known him my whole life, and maybe other lifetimes too.

He was too stereotypically good looking for my usual taste. And though I liked the fact that he was dreamy, philosophical and a talented musician, I was also confronted by his intensity. He always looked deep into my eyes when we spoke, he listened - really listened - and he encouraged me to challenge myself and pursue my dreams.

He seemed so perfect, yet so flawed, I didn’t dare hope he was real. So we became friends. But as the months went by and my interest in lusty trysts grew less and less, and the time spent with my flatmate grew more and more, I came to wonder if friends do indeed make the best lovers. Considering that this man has been my husband for almost 10 years now, I would say the answer is yes.

Back to the original question, I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight. Maybe some people have the ability to know what they need in a blink of an eye, but me, I need time. Love is something that has always taken me by surprise.

I do believe in Connection at first sight. But love, I’m not so sure. Love is a mysterious thing. It sprouts out of nowhere, can endure great hardship, then die so swiftly, so silently that it leaves you gasping and ruined in its absence. I think I am probably too guarded to believe in romantic ideals, but I am also too in love with my husband not to hope that our love has some kind of cosmic blessing.

In my definition, my husband is my soulmate because he’s my best friend, my lover, my sunshine, my shadow, and my parent in arms. He can definitely finish my sentences and guess what I’m thinking, but then after almost 12 years together that could be because he knows me like no other. And that’s romantic, isn’t it?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

This short is a continuation of SHE-POWER Fiction: The Dilemma

“Look who managed to make it after all.”

Geoff ushered Clarissa into the dining room, one hand nestled on the small of her back, the other still clutching a large glass of red wine, which was sloshing about, threatening to spill on the polished floors.

Clarissa clutched her bulging laptop bag to her body, feeling a little like the new girl at school. She realised that she had not checked her appearance before coming, and quite likely she was wrinkled, frizzy haired and shiny faced right now. Hardly the best look for a sophisticated dinner party.

While Clarissa liked the Roystons, their dinner parties were always full of Scott’s old friends and family connections. It was all very incestuous. Everyone either worked for the Government, an NGO, the courts or was married to someone who did. Most of the room had known each other for years and Geoff had been friends with Scott’s father, so the two men were practically family.

“Hi everyone, sorry I’m late.” Clarissa held out the $50 bottle of shiraz she’d just plucked off the shelf in the bottle shop for. It was ridiculously overpriced and she had no idea what it was, but the price guide meant the Roystons would love it. “I picked up this, just in case we run out.”

Geoff’s wife, Sandra laughed as she pushed back her chair and reached up to give Clarissa a peck on the cheek, enveloping her in Chanel No. 5.

“I think Sydney will run out of water before this house runs out of wine, but thank you.” She held out her hands for Clarissa’s bag. “Let’s take this and get you comfortable, shall we.”

Clarissa handed over the bag and then felt quite naked standing there alone. There didn’t seem to be an obviously empty chair and she noticed a couple of unfamiliar faces. Her legs felt heavy and stiff, and as she shifted her feet awkwardly, she wished Geoff would forget about the wine glass he was trying to find for her, and get her a chair instead.

Doing a quick scan of the table, Clarissa noticed that Scott was seated at the far end, near the windows and was deep in conversation with a young blond woman she had never seen before. They were the only two who continued talking despite her arrival.

A slew of open wine bottles littered across the table in between serving bowls and dirty plates indicated that dinner had obviously been served and enjoyed. It occurred to Clarissa that Scott may not have told Geoff and Sandra she was coming.

Suddenly feeling like an uninvited guest, Clarissa turned to Sandra just as Geoff thrust a glass of wine in her hand. “I’m so sorry to turn up like this. I really meant to be here a lot earlier, but there was an emergency at work.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you decided to come. Geoffrey and I were very disappointed when Scott said you couldn’t make it.” Sandra looked across at Geoff. “Darling, get Lissa a seat will you.”

Clarissa felt a knot forming in her stomach, and she lowered her eyes, blinking back a hot rush of tears. Damn Scott. Why do that to her? he knew this would be awkward. He just wanted to humiliate her because he was pissed off she was late. She looked over at him and for the first time caught his eye as he half turned toward her. He stared at her with angry eyes, then turned back to his blond dinner companion.

“I’ll rustle you up some food,” Sandra fussed. “We were going to have cheese and dessert soon, but we’ll wait for you.”

“No, I’m okay actually. Cheese will be fine.”Sandra looked concerned and squeezed Clarissa’s arm tenderly. “You really should eat. You look like you’ve lost weight.”

“I just need to sit down and relax, that’s all.”

“Geoffrey, where’s that chair?”

“Here.” Geoff said, dragging another chair over from the wall. He moved towards Scott. “Everyone shuffle along please.”

Geoff nudged the chair in and held it for Clarissa as she sat. “I’m afraid my daughter’s been monopolizing your husband. They haven’t seen each other for years, have you?” He patted Scott’s shoulder.

Clarissa felt a little better about Scott’s attentions now. Maybe he was behaving himself after all. She’d never met Geoff’s daughter from his first marriage before, but surely Scott had known her since she was a child.

She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Scott’s wife, Clarissa. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

The blond turned flinty green eyes on her and shook Clarissa’s hand limply. “Madeline.”

She slid a glance at Scott before reaching for her glass and bringing it to her lips.

Although Clarissa wanted to slap Scott for his childish antics, she forced herself to lean over and kiss his cool lips. “Hi.”

“Decided to come, did you?” Up close, Scott’s eyes were glassy, and he’d spilled wine down his shirt.

“I told you I was,” Clarissa said through gritted teeth, a smile pasted on her face. “I would’ve come earlier if I could have.”

“Sure.” Scott brought his over full glass of wine to his lips again, the liquid sloshing out onto the table cloth at his unsteady hand. “But we can’t disappoint Lex, can we?”

Clarissa flushed hot with embarrassment and hoped that no one else had heard. “Not here, not tonight.”Her jaw ached from smiling so much. “We’ll talk later.”

Clarissa reached for his hand, but he pulled it away from her. She sighed and turned back to Madeline, who was now leaning forward, displaying perky, well tanned breasts in a flimsy camisole top. Clarissa could see Scott’s eyes continually going in their direction, and from the smug look on Madeline’s face she didn’t seem to mind a bit.

“So, how is it we haven’t met before, Madeline?”.

Scott let out a groan. “Fucking small talk.” He reclined back in his chair and loosened the top buttons of his shirt.

Madeline looked amused as Clarissa’s face reddened. “I’ve been in New York for a couple of years. And before that I was living with mummy in Melbourne.”

Ah, the first wife. Clarissa had heard a little about Geoff’s first wife, an ex-model and fashion designer, but she and Geoff were not exactly on speaking terms.

“And what made you return home?” Clarissa resisted the urge to hit Scott for the way he was now openly staring down Madeline’s top. Madeline Radcliff had to be no more than 22 years of age, and even for Scott that was young.

Madeline scowled at Geoff, who was deep in conversation at then other end of the table. “Dad wants me to go to university.” She spoke like it was a pointless exercise.

“Oh, so you haven’t been yet?”

“No, I finished school and just spent two gap years in London working with a fashion designer friend of mummy’s.”

“How nice,” Clarissa said, thinking this girl was barely out of school, so what was she doing flirting with her thirty year old husband. “And what will you be studying?”

“I don’t know. Business or something boring.” Madeline yawned. “I can’t stand studying.”

“I need a cigarette,” Scott interrupted, pushing back his chair to stand. He extended his hand to Madeline. “Coming?”

She nodded obediently and rose from the table, clasping her hand in his.

Clarissa resisted the urge to look up as they disappeared together out to the back patio. So this is how the night was going to go.

With a shaky hand she raised her glass and took a large gulp. There was nothing she could do except hope he didn’t embarrass her too much, and drink enough that she didn’t care about any embarrassment at all.

“This is lovely wine, Geoff. What vineyard is it from?”
Photo by RTPeat

Today is a great day for me because Zen Habits has published an article I wrote called The User’s Guide to Fabulous Friendships.I’m a big fan of Leo’s and am quite chuffed he asked me to guest post. Zen Habits not only has great articles, it has a very involved community of readers and there’s always interesting discussions going on. Hopefully, I can help contribute to that with this article, so why not go over and check out The User’s Guide to Fabulous Friendships.

I’d also like to add a personal note that this article truly comes from my heart and is dedicated to all the wonderful women I call friends. Some of you have been with me a very long time and have helped pick me up when I was broken and down. I thank you for your undying love and support, and please know that my life is brighter and bigger for your presence in it.

Kelly

PS. And thank you to all my online friends and readers who have sent their well wishes as I have slogged through two weeks of ill health. I’m on the mend and I appreciate you thinking of me.

Photo by riza

I so wish I was jumping for joy like this fella in the photo. In fact, I’d settle for walking around the house without coughing and having my nose run everywhere. After twelve days of a stinking, mangy flu, I’m not feeling my usual sunny self and I am ever so slowly losing my mind!

Why should you care? Well, after yet another day of throwing myself from the couch to my bed, whining and moaning in despair, I’ve had lots of time to think and have come up with an effective how-to list for surviving family illness.

Number ONE with a bang - DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN. They may look cute, and be all cuddly and stuff, but it’s all an evil facade. Their real reason for being here is to contaminate us! They’re death traps I tell you!

All kind of infections and bugs lurk within those smiling faces and that downy soft skin. This is the most important lesson I can impart. Do not have children if you want to stay healthy.

If you’ve already screwed up and had children, well that’s it, you’ve got an an uphill battle now. May as well look at some emergency measures just to try and hold you together. Please see the following:

• Never under any circumstances care for sick children yourself. When they’re sick they sweat, billow out snot and drool, and all that infectious gunk gets on you. Not healthy. Some do-gooders will go on about it being your responsibility - ignore them. Relatives are vital here. Drop the kids off with their grandparents, uncle, aunt, basically anyone who will take them and hasn’t served time. The Emergency room at the local hospital is also an option, but you’ll need someone waiting in the car with the engine running so you can make a quick exit.

If you ignored the above advice, there’s probably little I can do to help you, but because I’m a kind and generous soul, I’ll try.

• Do not spend all night when you’re supposed to be resting, getting up and down to a sick child. So, they’ve got a fever, you’re suffering too. Let’s get some perspective here! Slip them an extra dose of panadol. It’ll get rid of the temperature and knock them out. Problem solved.

• Do not try and sit up late with some crazed idea that you might be able to write a blog post, even though you can barely stand. The only thing that will happen is you’ll sit there, stare vacantly at the screen, then fall asleep on the keyboard and wake up with a crink in your neck to add to the headache and the runny nose.

• Drink plenty of fluids and eat lightly. Apparently beer and wine don’t count because of the histamines, but any doctor that says whiskey, vodka and gin won’t clear the head and warm the chest is a quack and deserves their license to be revoked. Chocolate biscuits do count as a light meal as long as you don’t finish the packet.

• When your doctor gives you antibiotics, they actually expect you to take them. Putting them in the bathroom cabinet will not suffice. Apparently they don’t work from a distance. A related point is…

• Have someone else dole out your child’s antibiotics. (Didn’t I tell you to get rid of that kid?) The simple act of giving your child their prescriptions will make you think you took yours, but you didn’t! Now the rugrat is getting better and you’re still sick and the little mite wants to know why mummy won’t take him to the park. Mummy’s dying, don’t you get it, child!

• Do not spend the days you’re supposed to be resting doing the washing, the floors, the kitchen and all the other parts of the house that are getting dirtier and messier by the minute. Get a cleaner. Enlist your partner. Enslave the kids.

• Make sure you call everyone you know to whine about how sick you are. It will bore them to tears, but you’ll feel better and everyone will get the point that you really are the most important person in the world.

• Forget about exercise. And definitely do not go for a run on the first day you start feeling better. You may find yourself overheating and puking your guts up in the park with some horrified granny glaring at you and rushing away in her walker. Not that this happened to me of course.

• My last point is vital. You are not a parent when you’re sick. It’s everyone for themselves. So the kids are killing each other and want to ride their bikes on the main road. Let them. Who has the energy to fight? You can’t worry about every minor detail, can you? Everything your children say is right this week. Ice-cream and chocolate topping is dinner. Green jelly is basically a vegetable and yes, your son can watch Thomas the Tank Engine all day.

Now, don’t thank me all at once for these valuable tools to survive illness and family life. I know they’re revolutionary, but hey I’m a genius. You leave the hard work to me. Just sit back and enjoy.

I’m off to work on chromosomal gene theory now.

Kelly

Health Warning - Anyone without a sense of humor should disregard this post entirely. Actually, forget you ever saw this blog. If you don’t understand my humor, even the deranged stuff, then we’re probably not right for each other. Find someone else. You will love again.

Photo by mikes&mugs