You're my kryptonite.

Why is it that after you seem to disappear of the face of the Earth you contact me and I'm hooked straight away?

After almost four weeks of not hearing from you and deciding to delete your number out of my phone - again for the millionth time - Why do I get a text replying to my question from the previous day?

I get nothing for the next couple of days. When all of a sudden... Boom! There you are striking up a conversation on the instant messenger.

You're obviously a little tipsy, or more. And a touch toey too perhaps. You see me online and strike up a conversation.

An hour later you're in my bed. We do what's needed to be done and then as quickly as you arrived, you're gone again.

You are my secret addiction.

You are crack and I'm your whore.

You are my Kryptonite.

Fin.

Oh the things I have seen...

So, I lost my job. Again. I had an interview in the city yesterday afternoon. Not knowing what the parking situation at where I needed to be, I decided to catch a train. I don't usually do Public Transport. I hate it. Dirty trains. Late trains. Strange people. Definitely not my cup of tea.

I caught the train from Newport station. I paid the required $3.80 for my daily concession ticket and made my way to the platform. I took a seat on a hard cold bench and waited. My train was due to arrive at 1252. It came at 1258. Only 6 minutes late, but late none the less. On board I saw some very strange, weird and interesting things, as well as some things that just plain annoyed me.

1) I saw a lady that looked like a poodle. She was sporting shoulder length, tight blonde curls and had a long pointy, upturned nose. Weird.

2) Directly in front of me sat an Indian lady in her late 20's. She was talking on her phone for the whole journey. That's fine. I'm on my phone quite a lot too. But she was pretty much shouting at the person on the other end. It wasn't angry shouting, just regular talking - with volume! Annoying.

3) It's school holidays - Hooray! Not. There were a 'gang' of rowdy teens wearing skinny jeans so tight that they could not pull them up to their waists. They had their rumps hanging out, exposing their brightly colored undies. Perhaps that is the cool thing to do these days. Since when do teenage boys wear pink undies? Strange.

4) The same teens thought it was a great idea to skateboard up and down the aisle of the carriage. Annoying.

5) Arrival at 'Footscrazy' station. Enter the junkies. Listening to a presumed stolen iPod at ridiculously loud levels, pushing a presumably stolen bike. Why did you choose to sit next to me? Talking loudly over your iPod to your skanky crack-whore girlfriend. My grip on my handbag tightened. As dd the grip on my brolly for protection - should I need it. Annoying.

6) I had the power at Southern Cross station. I deliberately stood and waited at the door on the wrong side of the carriage, just to see how many people disembarking at the same station were sheep. There were 5. Interesting.

7) I was hungry once I got out of the station so I began to hunt down some lunch. I found a little Japanese place in a food court. I ate the most delicious okonomiyaki I've ever had. Awesome.

8) In the same food court, was a boy aged around 12 with his Grandma. He was eating pizza. Signs plastered all over the food court read as "DO NOT FEED THE BIRDS." He ignored these, and ripped up the entire base of his pizza and threw it on the floor for the birds. Annoying.

9) As usual, I was early for my appointment. Forty minutes in fact. What could I do to waste some time? I found a bench and took a seat. I lit up a cigarette to calm my ever increasing nerves for the pending interview. A drunk traditional land owner took a seat next to me. After a few minutes of awkward silence he asked me for a cigarette. Harshly, I told him to dance for it. He did. He busted out some of the best break dancing moves I've ever seen. I rewarded him with 3 cigarettes. Strange.

Oh the things I have seen on one little journey to the city. On the journey home I sat in the back corner of the carriage with a copy of the MX pinned to my face. I don't think I could handle any more people watching for today.

End.

Violated.

Hello and welcome to a New Year. I know the first month is almost over, and I'm quite late, but I thought I had better start off by wishing you a Happy New Year. Now all of the formalities are over I can start the story of my latest violation...

Last Sunday afternoon, Miss Self Sabotage and I went to a quirky Artist's market in North Melbourne. We had a great time. I bought two new - antique, but new to me - shiny brooches, met up with Miss Self Sabotage's good friend and very talented clothing designer and ate a honey joy. We were tired and exhausted from wandering around the stuffy indoor market so we decided to head back home and grab a bite to eat. We were almost at our favourite breaky spot when my phone rang. It was Gigi, and she was crying her eyes out. For a second, I thought her dog had got loose and been run over. Luckily, Ollie was safe. But not so luckily, Gigi told me that our house had just been robbed! I immediately went into panic mode. I got goose pimples, my skin went pale and a began to shake.

I asked Miss Self Sabotage to take me home as fast as her car allowed. My luck got even better when we got stuck behind some fucking moron travelling 45-50km/h in a 60 zone. I lost my temper, punched the dashboard of Miss Self Sabotage's beautiful car and screamed abuse to the driver of the car in front of us via my passenger side window. I'm really sure he heard me too!

We finally made it back to my house. I went in to survey the damage and to assess what had been stolen. I got to my bedroom door and I nearly cried. The desperado, junkie thief had kicked in my bedroom door to gain access to my Aladdin's cave of treasure. My bedroom door is now hanging on by only one hinge and has a giant crack down the middle of it. Now it doesn't fit back in the opening so, I have to prop something up against it at night to keep it closed. I was relieved to still see my TV, DVD player and massive DVD collection intact. I moved around to the side of my bed. FUCK! A huge sense of grief and anger rushed throughout my whole body as I glared at the empty spot between my side table and bed where I keep my laptop.

Gone. It was gone. I also noticed that my phone charger was missing, along with the USB cable for my digital camera and half a bottle of perfume. I was really pissed the fuck off. I was just thinking two days before my life and bedroom got violated that I should really buy one of those external hard drive thingamajigs. I wish I had of now. The day my laptop was stolen, I also lost the last 10 years of my life in digital photos. I was devastated. I began feeling numb. I still am. If only I had saved them to a disc. Something. Hindsight is a mother fucker!

When the insurance money comes through, I shall buy myself a new laptop plus an external hard drive. Getting robbed is fucked. I hope it never happens to anyone. So children, what was the moral to today's tale? Yep, that's right. Always back up your memories and keep them in a safe place. That way, you never have to feel the way I'm feeling right now. Memoryless :(

Fin.

Shouldn't my biological clock be ticking by now?

I'm twenty-eight and a half years old. So I'm no spring chicken. All I see around me are people with offspring. Naughty, noisy, snotty nosed children. When I see a woman walking past me on the street pushing her over sized, three-wheeled stroller am I supposed to stop her and stick my nose in and say "Aww, how sweet. Your baby is beautiful"? I don't want to. My gut reaction every time I see a lady with a pram, is to cross over to the other side of the road to avoid the whole situation. I am not interested in children. I don't care what your little angel does, what they eat or how much they poop. I'm just not that kind of girl.

I'd rather have grown up conversations relating to the news of the world and celebrity scandals. I'd rather talk to my non-breeding friends about the hot guy she pashed over the weekend or about the bargains she picked up on her recent shopping trip. Children do not interest me one little bit.

Some of my friends from high school - males as well as females - have begun the whole procreating thing. Some started not long after we left school, others have waited until now. All I see and read on facebook are updates like "My kid is so cute, today he asked Mummy......" and "Today little So and So took her first steps." It makes me wonder what made them suddenly decide they wanted to become Mothers and Fathers. Was their first born an 'accident'? Were these children planned? If they were planned, did a switch in their brain flip and put them in 'Mumma Mode'?

It makes me wonder if the switch will ever flip in my head. Right now I'm finding it hard enough to get a regular root, let alone find a decent enough bloke to settle down with and start a family! I don't have the time, energy and money to look after myself and a dog, let alone to bring up a tribe of children. And let's face it. A few of the men that I have been with in recent years are married and some have children. I am their escape. An oasis if you will.

There is one exception to my rule of child hating. Two really. They come in the form of my cousin's two kiddies. Little Miss that is just over two years old and the Little Dude that just turned three months old. Those kids melt my heart. It might be because they are related to me, so I feel that family bond with them. It might be because they are both the cutest kids I've ever seen. These kids should be models! If I've had a bad day all I have to do is go and spend an hour with Little Miss and her paint set, play dough or help out by getting splashed to death at bath time and I have a smile on my face and my worries from the day have melted away.

I'm still not so keen on the Little Dude, I find him a bit boring, and he spews a lot. Though I am sure that when he gets a little older and stops vomiting on me, I'll get more joy out of him! I love those kids, but even spending time with them, two kids that I adore - does not make me clucky at all. One of my girlfriends - who is my age and single - has a one year old nephew. She gets clucky just by mentioning his name. I don't get it.

Maybe there is something wrong with me? I'm sure by now - as my eggs are slowly turning to dust - I should feel something. I don't. Perhaps I will someday, but for now, I'm just happy being me. Twenty-eight, single and living life large in Melbourne town.

The Great Man Drought of 2010

There was a six month and three day period of time after Round One with the Gentle Giant that I had nobody to release my sexual frustration on. It was mainly was due to my lack of faith in the male half of the species. I had tried so hard to get the attention of The Gentle Giant earlier in the year only to be shunned and not spoken to when he found himself a gal. A call or even a text to let me know that he had moved on from little old me would have been nice. Instead I got the silent treatment. Sometimes not knowing is worse than knowing, because you hold on and hope for the best.

My apprehensive attitude towards attempting to find a new bloke was getting me down. I was starting to think I had lost my mojo. I thought I was never going to get laid again. My mind was playing out little scenarios in my mind of my vagina withering away to dust and blowing away in the wind if it didn't get used soon. The first three months were the toughest. My brain and my body wanted so much just to jump on any semi decent looking male I saw. But no matter how many times I tried to send out the "Hey, you're cute. Let's fuck" vibes I got shot down. I was starting to climb the walls with my horniness. People with shares in Duracell were loving me. I was about to hit the six month marker and I was over it. I was not interested in sex. I wasn't even flying solo anymore. Until one day, curiosity got the better of me, and I logged onto the dating website again.

I had a recent message from a boy who was new to Melbourne from Perth via Launceston. The Traveler and I sent a few emails back and forth, exchanged numbers and play a little bit of text ping pong for a few days. We worked out that we both had been through very long droughts and concluded that we should break the drought for each other. We agreed to meet up at a bar near his place, so if we didn't feel a spark there would be no awkwardness like "Gee, is that the time? please get out of my house." We'd just go our separate ways from the bar to our own homes. Nothing ventured nothing gained.

In the afternoon preceding the 'meet' The Traveler sent me a text saying that he was looking forward to meeting me in the evening and gave me his home address "for the record". I thought that was sweet. It eased my mind a little. Meeting up with men off the internet, no matter how well I think I know then can still be dodgy. I told a friend the address so if I did end up back at his place, and for some reason I had judged his character wrong, and ended up dismembered in garbage bags dumped across the city, the cops would know whose door to knock on and ask questions. Not long after that text we decided to scrap going to a bar to just meet at his place.

I raced home from work to shave my legs and deal with my severely over grown pussy and under arms. Boy oh boy was that an effort! I had a shower, moisturised and threw on a dress. I'm not a girly girl, so it takes me about 15 minutes to get ready. a little longer if my tangled mane of hair has been washed and needs brushing. I threw a handful of condoms into my bag and ran to the car. Safety first.

I fired up the not so trusty Tom Tom, punched in his address and away I went. I parked out the front of his house, spat my gum out and proceeded down the sloping driveway. I got to his front door straightened out my dress and knocked. The Traveler opened it and welcomed me inside. I sat on the sofa and he opened me a beer. We began chit chatting about nothing in particular. We downed a second beer. We somehow as if by gravity, merged closer together on the couch. Then it was on like Donkey Kong. We went form first base to third in around 30 seconds before heading up the stairs to his room.

I was very surprised to see a very tidy room and bed complete with fresh linen. Nice work Traveler. Nice work indeed. I won't go into too much detail of what took place in said freshly laundered sheets. You're a clever cookie, I'm sure you have a good enough imagination to fill in the blanks from things I've said in previous posts.

Six hours later at the not so godly hour of 1am, I got dressed. The Traveler walked me to the door. We shared a goodbye pash. He opened the door and I traipsed up the driveway to the street with a spring in my step.

After a six month and three day sabbatical I was back baby!

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...