Should one encourage an old flame to be rekindled? Part Two

I had deleted The Gentle Giant's number but somehow remembered the last two digits were 28. I received a text asking if I still played with my ropes. I said that I hadn't played with them for a while but when I did play with them it was super fun and he should give it a go with the missus some time. He wrote back that there was no missus. No missus hey? I thought to myself as images of naughty things rolled through my brain. He had my full attention again. I wrote back 'Maybe you should come and play ropes with me some time?' We played a bit of text ping pong and eventually came to the conclusion that he had too much work still to do for the day and I was tired. We left it at 'We'll play some day soon'. Whatever.

The next day after work I was super toey (nothing new there then) and decided to get the ropes out when I got in from work. I grabbed my red Japanese silk rope and un-wound the plait. I found the mid point of the rope and placed it on my spine, roughly where a bra strap would go. I began winding, twisting, threading and knotting around my torso, neck and boobs until I had no rope left. I was amazed with the outcome. After all, it was the first time I had really ever tied myself up. I had only ever practiced on my mannequin. I had the tension of the rope just right. Not so tight that I was going purple, and not too loose that they fell off when I moved around. I took a few cheeky pics on my phone and MMSed them to The Gentle Giant. I tried my hardest to tempt him into my boudoir... No such luck.

He seemed impressed, but not impressed enough to drop everything and pick up where we had left off earlier in the year. I had been given a second chance to show this boy who I really was and again, he was playing hard to get. Boring. I don't like games. Either you want to hang out with me and get to know me, or you don't. Simple. Don't string me along and waste my time.

The trail of the ropes went cold and a few days passed. I was on MSN like I am most nights and just happened to mention that I was going to Sexpo - a sexuality and lifestyle expo at Jeff's Shed- in the afternoon of the next day. I asked if he'd like to tag along and help me pick out some new toys. I was bluntly told he had too much work going on and he would not be able to make it. Luckily for me, one of my girlfriends - Sexi-Bum - is just as much of a sex crazed nympho as me agreed to accompany me to the event.

We were like two kids in a candy store! We ran around like we were high on sugar - squealing with glee at every new toy we saw at every stall. We walked up and down each of the aisles slowly taking in everything that was on offer. I knew what I had come for. A We-vibe II and a new dildo. I found what I was after not long after entering the expo and did not bother shopping around to see if anyone had the items cheaper. Sexi-Bum on the other hand can be quite thrifty and likes to compare prices. After a few hours, we had both spent up big and were tired from trudging through the crowds. We saw the sign for the exit and moved towards it.

We were about 10 steps away from the freedom and fresh air of the exit when I looked up and directly in front of me walked The Gentle Giant - Complete with horrid, "ex" girlfriend hanging off his arm with a dodgy "I'm missing chromosomes" look on her face. My heart sank. Our eyes locked on each other. My face went bright red. I looked away. I could not believe it.

Yeah right! "I'm too busy working to come and help you pick out some new toys to add to your arsenal." LIAR! I don't deal well with people - especially boys - that tell porkies! I couldn't help myself. I had to text him. I asked "Having fun? I thought you and the Missus broke up?" at 6pm as Sexi-Bum and I walked out of the event. Three hours later he decided to text me back. "She wanted to go so I went with". Nice. I wanted to go and asked you the day before and you said no.

So I'm pretty sure the events of the last few weeks and the weekend just gone have answered the question in the title of this blog. No. You should never encourage an old flame to rekindle. Old flames burn out to become ashes for a reason. Let these ashes blow away with the wind. They are not worth worrying about. Use your time and energy on new and exciting things. Leave the past in the past.

Should one encourage an old flame to be rekindled? Part One

The Gentle Giant is back. You may not know who I'm talking about so you might like to backtrack and read my blog titled - You can't always get what you want...

I got my 1st text from him about two months ago. It was a random school night when I received the text telling me that he'd just taken himself on a pub crawl in the CBD and was now in a local pub that I had taken him to. I congratulated his effort and told him that his pub crawl was probably no where near as good as the one I had taken him on months earlier. He agreed. I enquired as to whether he'd like some company on the last stop of the crawl, to which he accepted. I was out the door, in the car and at the pub in less than ten minutes. Eager much? Silly me.

I got to the pub and the voyeur in me kicked in. He was sitting inside, at a table alone. I paused for a moment and contemplated leaving. I stood and gazed at him for a few moments just thinking about the last chapter I had endured with this boy. I had fallen for him and he gave me the cold shoulder. Did he deserve me giving him the time of day? Of course the answer is yes. I'm a girl aren't I?

I took in a deep breath and entered the pub. His back was tuned to me but as I walked, he span around and smiled at me. I walked over to him, said hello and gave him a kiss on he cheek. I saw his pot was half empty (I'm not being negative, it really was nearly empty) so I sauntered to the bar and ordered two pots of refreshing lager beer.

I sat at his table and we began chatting away. We caught up on the past few months that had elapsed since we last spoke. We talked about work, friends, projects and love lives. It was pleasant. He was still charming and I couldn't help but smile at him. I don't know how or why, but conversation between us just comes so easily. We sat there, and before I knew it around two hours had ticked over on my watch. It was at that point that the singing from the open mic night became unbearable. We picked up our coats and left. As we were standing out the front saying our farewells, I offered him a lift back to the Bat Cave.

I pulled into his driveway and saw an odd looking unpainted car. It turns out that he has done a cut and shut on his 4x4 and turned it into a ute. I was super impressed. We talked about cars for a few minutes before an awkward silence fell over us. I once again - just like the very first night we went out - declared it was getting late and that I should head off. I was secretly hoping that he would invite me in to ravage him under the guise of having another beer. He didn't. I stepped in towards him and stood on my tippy toes to give him a peck on the cheek. He turned his head and planted a semi open mouthed kiss on my lips. I froze. I was unsure if I should kiss him back. I didn't know if he was still with his girlfriend so I chose to pull away. I got into my car as he walked to his gate. Before he went in, he looked back at me. I smiled, put my car into reverse and went home grinning from ear to ear.

That was the last I heard from him until a week ago...

Madame - My new lover and friend...

I needed a new bicycle. My last one got taken without my permission. Get yourself in a comfy chair, and I'll set the scene for you...

...Comfy? Good. Now I can continue!

I was riding reliable old, Huffy to a Mexican restaurant for dinner one evening a few months back with a good friend Miss How Do You Do. It was early evening, the sun was going down, birds were settling into their roosts for the night, when all of a sudden, the left crank and pedal assembly of my two-wheeled vehicle fell off! My close friends know that I have a very quick temper and even the slightest thing that most people would just shrug off sets me over the edge.

I picked up the bicycle and threw it accross the nature strip in a fit of rage, I threw the crank into some bushes and stomped up the street towards the restaurant. I was in a bad mood because I was hungry, my bike has just fallen to pieces so I kept my head down and used the Foot Falcon to get to where it was I needed to be. My plan was to walk to dinner. Enjoy a fantastic vegetarian la combination with the ever lovely and composed Miss How Do You Do, walk back to where I had left the bike, push it home and fix it in the morning. But no, when we got back to the place I had left my bike I was shocked to discover it was gone! Someone had stolen my broken bicycle! Who would ever do such a thing? I was furious! I picked up the detatched crank and threw it as hard as I could down the centre of the street - I'm a girl and throw like one so it didn't get far!


When Miss How Do You Do had calmed me down and defused the situation we continued the walk back to her place. It was late, getting cold, and now my grumpiness has returned ten-fold. All I wanted to do was to get into my 5.7 litre V8 car and go home to bed and forget about the fact that some jerk had stollen my broken bike!

I broiled on the fact that somebody had stolen a broken bike and not bothered to look for the missing part. Did they walk it back to their Aladdin's cave of stolen treasure? Did a one leggered pirate claim ownership of my abandoned fragmented former chariot? Over the next few days I decided it was time to replace the good old Huffy with one more fitting to my personality. I decided I needed a vintage bike.

I started trawling the internet - eBay mostly - for a vintage bike. I came to a realisation that owning a vintage bike would be much like owning a vintage car. Lots of maintenance that would more than likely prove to be quite costly. I found this amazing bike that looked like a vintage beach cruiser, but was in fact brand, spanking new! Eureka! I wanted to buy it as soon as I had laid my eyes on it.

She was beautiful. Powder blue, curved frame, tan leatherlook saddle and hand grips, 7 gears, cane basket on the front and mudguards. I was in love... again! This time with a bike and not a boy! I named her Madame.

Since falling in love with my new flame, we have been on many adventures. I love that I - the unfit, fat, non-exercising person - can now ride my vintage inspired bicycle to Williamstown, do 'the lap' and head home again all without whinging about being tired, exhausted, puffed or out of breath - I put it all down to giving up the dirty cigs five months and fourdays ago.

I heart Madame.