Dancing In The Rain

When was the last time you danced in the rain? Have you ever danced in the rain? I have. Are you laughing at me? Well you shouldn’t knock it till you try it. Just like rain can break oppressive, humid weather, rain can break an oppressive mood.
It rained today for the first time in fifty or so days (well it did when I first wrote this) It rained, really rained and I got really wet taking my daughter in to school. I realized when I was almost back at the car I was missing a great opportunity. For days we had been complaining/commenting/moaning about the heat, and now it was brisk and wet and we were seeing it as an inconvenience to getting the kids to school.
So I stopped, put the brolly down and did a little dance near my car with my baby. Later when I was home I went outside and danced and spun and laughed in that rain and if felt so good.
It’s been a long time since I’ve done that. I have to admit when I first went outside I thought people would think I was weird, but then so what, besides those who know me best think I’m weird anyway and I like it that way.
Sometimes I think we just need to forget what others may think and just do something a little silly and a lot fun to remind ourselves that we shouldn’t take life too seriously, after all it’s a much better experience if you actually enjoy it.
So the next time it rains why don’t you risk a few sideways glances, step into the droplets and spin around. And for good measure sing aloud (if you’re me that means not necessarily in key) – ‘I’m singin and dancing in the rain.’
Feel the rain on your face and your tongue. Feel the bite of the breeze as it cools you down. Let go of everything but the sensation of the moment and allow yourself to feel joy like you did perhaps as a child. Maybe you could even jump in a few puddles just for a laugh. As you do so allow the stress that’s been building up or the depressions that’s been pulling you down, to let go of you as you let go of it.

Unforgiveness

I think unforgiveness is something we all have to face up to at some time, even if we don’t want to admit it. We all have things we hold onto. For me a lot of those things had to do with rejection one way or another; from my father, my peers, the opposite sex.
My dad wasn’t affectionate when I was growing up, unless he was drunk, which is problem number two. He’s a smart man and somehow my A’s and B’s were never quite good enough for him. When I was a teenager and he wasn’t working it always seemed to me that he was more interested in other people’s problems than his own family, more into helping others. I sacrificed growing up to pull up the slack I believed he was leaving and it took a long time to get over that, to forgive him and let it go. Now though our relationship is pretty good and I no longer feel angry or resentful when I see him or talk to him.
Rejection of my peers, female and male was something I convinced myself didn’t matter. I built up emotional walls and tried to make myself immune but if I really looked I still had feelings pent up regarding what had been said to and about me. It wasn’t until I was in the UK that I realised I’d let go of all of that. One night on the tube I realised I was happy with who I’d become and sorry for those who laughed at my expense. Sure these things formed me and I accept and understand that but they no longer have a hold over me. Those things from the past have no power over me they are simply things that happened.
I think we underestimate the power of forgiveness. We live in a society so dominated by self on so many levels, yet we ignore one of the healthiest things we can do for ourselves. We don’t let go of the hurts that have been inflicted on us. We are determined to either exact revenge in various ways or blame others and the things we’ve had done to us for our actions: ‘I abuse because I was abused’, ‘I killed them because they picked on me’.
By holding onto these things we perpetuate the cycle of deterioration. Do we really want to give others that much control over us? Is it really that hard to move on? I’ve heard people tell of how miserable their lives are because they were picked on years ago, yet when the bully is confronted by it they don’t remember. The doer isn’t the one whose life has been cramped, it’s the person who won’t let go that suffers. What forgiveness does is allow us to move on with our lives, it allows us to live in the present and for the future rather than in the past.
Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting and it doesn’t mean what was done is okay. I think both these concepts trip us up, we don’t want to give people the wrong idea, the idea that certain things don’t matter. The pain we experience does matter and forgiveness doesn’t suggest that it doesn’t. What forgiveness does is allow us to pick ourselves up and move on. It allows us to function in a healthy way even though we have scars, bruises and imperfections.
Of course there is a world of difference between the sorts of things people can do to each other, some things are very obviously more horrible and there are definitely things out there I would struggle with forgiveness for. In fact there are things I struggle with that don’t even involve me directly. So by no means am I a virtue of forgiveness, I am simply trying to point out that maybe it is time we re-evaluated. Time we took a good long look at our lives and the unnecessary baggage we are carrying around, and time we let go of some of it. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy but maybe we owe it to ourselves to give it a shot.
The bible is all about forgiveness. Jesus Christ preached forgiveness, he lived forgiveness and some of his last words were about forgiveness. If it wasn’t so important he wouldn’t have spent so much time on it.

For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your
heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not
forgive men their sins, you Father will not forgive your sins.
Matthew 6:14-15

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked “Lord how many times
shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to
seven times?”
Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy
seven times.
Matthew 18:21-22

Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they?
Has no one condemned you?”
“No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now
and leave your life of sin.”
John 8:10-11

When they came to the place called the Skull, there they
crucified him, along with the criminals – one on his right, the
other on his left. Jesus said “Father forgive them, for they do
not know what they are doing.”
Luke 23:33-34


Unforgiveness has the ability to block up so much of our lives, to block up our joy, our happiness and even our very potential. It can stop us in our tracks. Forgiveness isn’t necessarily an easy thing but then a lot of things in life aren’t, and though we may wish they were it doesn’t stop us doing them. How much do I know that?
There are times forgiveness appears impossible. People can do truly horrid things to other people. So how do we let go of that stuff? Well I guess the only answer is to say not easily and not alone.
We need to change our focus, our heart attitude, and sometimes that takes time. The truth is I don’t know if it can be done without faith. Faith can anchor us and help us change. Faith can help us see a positive future when the place we are in seems so dark. I think it’s hard to take the step to forgiveness but I think it’s the best thing for us, it’s something that enables us to move on. For as long as it takes we can ask God for the grace to forgive and He will walk step by step with us through these tough and trying times.
Do we ever stop to think if we are holding on to any unforgiveness? Chances are we don’t. Sometimes things in this area are obvious but a lot of the time it’s probably fair to say we over look things. In my case the teasing thing and the Dad thing are both things I feel I’ve dealt with, both things that at one point or another I have said “I forgive them for those actions’, but there are people in my life at the moment who do things I constantly have to let go of. There are a couple of people I know who seem to have things land in their laps even when they’ve discarded their faith. Even to the point where we have wanted something and their actions have meant we couldn’t have it, then they turn around a bit later and say look what I’ve been given and it’s the very thing we wanted only they’ve been given it with an upgrade. Sometimes it’s easy to resent them and turn to God saying ‘what do we need to do to get a break?’ or ‘how could you give that to them?’. The truth is it is a much healthier attitude to say ‘okay God’ and let it go, even if it’s not an easier one.
What does all this have to do with forgiveness? Well that’s easy. When something like this happens we are more likely to take the path of resentment and the person we are resenting probably isn’t even aware of it. So we need to forgive them for their attitude to us, their use of us, their carelessness of our feelings or whatever it is and let the forgiveness help us let go of the resentment. Resentment is one of those things that can really twist us up.
Sometimes the person we need to forgive is ourselves. We are all stupid and do stupid things on occasion. Or maybe that’s just me.
The other thing tied to forgiving is we need to accept the forgiveness of others and of God. Both those things are tricky because they both require us to acknowledge that we are capable of doing things that require forgiveness, but not doing either of these can also hold us back and twist us up. Accepting God’s forgiveness is sightly more layered in that if we can’t or don’t accept it we are basically saying that whatever we have done is bigger than God, bigger than the sacrifice that was made on the cross for us. Do you really want to be saying that to God?
On the upside we probably forgive many times a day without realising it: when we get cut off in traffic and choose not to let it ruin our day; when someone says or does something that is insensitive or mean and we chose not to take offence; every time we try not to be the elephant that never forgets.
Forgiveness helps us move forward and have more control on our lives. It also protects us because it helps us to be more even in our character and less susceptible to every little thing that isn’t exactly as we want it. Let’s face it we could all do with a little less stress in our lives.
So maybe we should take a little time, stand back and evaluate.

Journey Home

Further entries from this journal novel can be found at http://www.webook.com/project/Journey-Home. If someone happens to be following the story and would prefer me to keep posting here please let me know.

The Oasis

Further chapters of this novel can be read at http://www.webook.com/project/The-Oasis. Unless anyone actually happens to be reading it and wants it still posted here, in which case please let me know.

Hatred and Bitterness

I read a blog a couple of days ago that didn’t quite leave me speechless, not much actually does that, but it did provoke me. I found this blog when cruising a fan group of one of my favorite shows. Yes without shame I admit I really like television and films, (let me clarify, shows with actors in them). Anyway this blog rips apart episodes of this show – which while I find that interesting is of no real consequence here. What is more interesting is the venom that just about spits off the page directed not only at the fictitious characters but also at the creator and writers of the show, eventually degenerating into a personal attack on the creator and his wife, people it would be fairly safe to assume the female writer doesn’t know personally.
Bemused I read further and could come to only one conclusion, this girl had been very, very hurt by men. Hatred of everything and everyone male burns off the page. Not just in regards to pop culture where for her a man in drag, or a military woman calling her commanding officer ‘sir’ is demeaning to women (the list goes on), she also spews out on the violence perpetuated by men on women and children. The latter is something I think should be considered terrible according to anyone’s personal paradigm, however she completely ignores the crimes perpetuated by women. Sure the numbers may be different but any number is horrible. Just because someone does something terrible doesn’t mean we can tar everyone of that race, faith or gender with the same brush.
I have no doubt that she would hate me without even knowing me simply because I am about to defend men. I feel I have to…no I want to, because most of the men I know do not deserve the venom she is spitting out.
Men are capable of caring for and loving children appropriately. Men are capable of loving and caring for a women. Not all heterosexual sex is rape. These statements of mine are in direct opposition to statements of hers.
My husband isn’t perfect, he’d be the first to agree but then again neither am I. We’ve both done things we’re not proud of, most of us if we’re honest probably have. Yes I cook for my husband but I like cooking and quite honestly he’s not that good at it, unless it’s BBQ. Yes I do the washing and stuff but he could and would if I really wanted him to and we’d run out of clean clothes. He does other things for me which I view as far more important. He changed jobs so I could pursue my passions; he supports and encourages me even when things don’t turn out the way we want them to in our wildest dreams. He is the best father I know. He stands by my side, he doesn’t dominate, denigrate, hate or rape me.
Men aren’t perfect, neither are women and neither sex is wholly responsible for the state of things. And to advocate wholesale hatred at one or the other is wrong and sad.
Bottom line I feel sorry for this girl. I can’t imagine living with so much hate in me. I can’t see how you can be so spiteful and bitter and still enjoy life. I can’t imagine being so narrow minded that I cannot allow for diversity in race, gender, faith or thought. There is probably no-one who knows me who agrees with me all the time and I’m okay with that. In fact it’s a good thing really because it encourages me to think things through better or differently and the even learn and grow.
That much hatred has to spring from somewhere. Interesting to note that one of the words in her blog title is poison, because that’s exactly what I see when I read her work. It is spreading out and poisoning others yes but unlike the venom animals carry in their bodies hatred spreads slowly and kills the host body. Living with hatred closes ourselves down to so many things. For this girl it is the beauty of a marriage as a marriage is meant to be; and the power of the love a father has for a child, or a man can have for a woman or a woman can have for a man. Many things that I see and experience and make my life richer.
Sometimes I wonder if I focus too much on the negatives in my life and then I read something like this and I realize I have so much to be thankful for and that I really don’t focus on the negatives all that much. It also serves as an incredible reminder to make sure I don’t allow hatred to take root in me at all because once you do it can spread and take control of your life. Even if you think you’re in control you’re not – the hatred is. Hatred gives the control of our lives over to the hands of others, you live on the back step blaming and finding fault, surely it is a dark and unhappy place to live. Hatred is vile and sneaky and destructive and more than anything it is why we need to live our lives practicing forgiveness.
Which will be the topic of my next blog.

Sex

Now I know I have your attention, unless you are trying not to read because you think maybe I’ve resorted to sleaziness. Well that’s not my intention but I always knew I was going to do at least one entry on sex, and today is an appropriate day to do it. Today marks the start of World Youth Day Celebrations.
I’m not catholic so why should I use this day to mark anything? It appears the event has come under scrutiny for refusing to hand out condoms. So are they right? It would be nice if there was an easy answer one way or another but like so many things in this world there just isn’t. Yes it is naïve to think that young people in a group that big aren’t having sex – I went to a national Christian youth event once and the one held previously to it supposedly saw eight girls go home pregnant. However if you advocate no sex before marriage and then hand out condoms aren’t you sending out mixed messages? So bottom line is I’m not sure either way is right.
And what about the responsibility of the parents? Before I left for uni my mother said ‘don’t be silly and have sex but if you do, use protection.’ It floored me, mostly because I didn’t expect to hear that coming from her. Especially as she knew I had no intention of sleeping around. Looking back on that advice I see something I didn’t really see then. I see her telling me that ‘sometimes things don’t go the way we think they will or hope they will but that’s okay I will still love you.’ Do I believe she would’ve supported me if I’d come home pregnant? Without question.
That advice though didn’t send me mixed messages. It was like saying you know what is right and I trust that you’ll do it but sometimes stuff-ups happen. See sex wasn’t a taboo topic in our house, my mother had hopes but she was realistic, she told me what she thought I needed to know and left me to make the decision.
My girls are only young but I know I’m going to have to have this conversation with them one day, I’d prefer later rather than sooner but with the way things are…Anyway maybe I should see this as my practice run.
Now girls don’t have sex before marriage!
It seems to me that even in a house with open lines of communication not much else was said, apart from you could get sick or pregnant. The underlying premise was that if you are going to be a good Christian you will save sex for marriage. No one ever gave a good reason for why. And you know I’m not so sure it’s even necessarily an issue of faith, maybe it’s more about wanting the best for yourself.
Why can I talk like this? That’s simple I didn’t keep my promise to myself. I didn’t have many partners but one is all it takes. I did learn a couple of things though, so maybe you can learn from me. First lesson is, in the words of Professor Moody ‘constant vigilance.’ You think you’ll always be in control and able to stop but that’s not always the case. I’m not talking about being forced, just the body’s reaction to hormones and chemicals. I’m not a believer in the theory that these things just happen, I believe you make choices that lead you to that place and I made some bad choices. Be aware of the direction your choices are taking you, and know once you start down a path it’s not always easy to stop.
Secondly for some reason I never heard that sex wasn’t just physical. When you get that close to someone you’re not just engaging them on a physical level, you’re engaging them on an emotional level as well. Of course I am speaking from the female perspective. I liked sex but I wasn’t sure it was all that. It seemed to me that something was missing. I supposed it could have been my imagination, I’ve never been accused of lacking in that area, and I wanted sex to be more. It wasn’t until I was with my husband that I knew something had been missing in my previous encounters. It hadn’t been my imagination.
Sex is a physical representation of the love and intimacy you have with another person. With the man I married that intimacy is so much deeper and more satisfying. Nothing needs to be held back, there’s no pressure. It is a place of vulnerability and safety, openness and being cherished. There is a deep connection when you know you are matched emotionally and yes even spiritually.
Sex is spoken of and portrayed as an act. We are taught the mechanics of it but nothing more. People use sex as currency, they devalue it, trade in it and use it for their own gratification. Some give it away because they want to feel loved or accepted. It doesn’t work because that was never what sex was meant to be. When we treat it as a physical act we may get momentary gratification but ultimately it doesn’t leave us with any permanent satisfaction. Sex isn’t the way we achieve the intimacy we so crave. Intimacy is more than that and sex is more than just the physical act.
So why wait till marriage for sex? Because sex is the ultimate physical expression of true intimacy. Sex works best when both of you are giving and when both of you are engaged in that deeper level. If you want sex to be the way it was meant to be then you’ll hang off until you are committed to someone special, someone who cares for you, knows you and values you. That’s my experience anyway.

Lessons From My Girls

Children are a blessing and they can also be a frustration but added to that is the fact parenting can teach us some great spiritual lessons.

1: Kids feel they have the right to always be first – ‘I need you come here’.

2: You have to give kids the space to learn.

3: You have to let them make mistakes.

4: I’m the adult, you’re the child and I expect you to do what I tell you to.
Lets start at the beginning then. Kids seem to have this idea that they should always be first. The key word here being ‘always’. Without question when you have children your priorities should change, the world doesn’t revolve around your wants and needs anymore, but like the rest of life it is a balancing act. Babies can’t do anything for themselves and so they cry we act. That’s the way it should be babies need to know they are loved and cared for. But babies grow and they start to use words. My eldest used the phrase ‘I need’, a lot. ‘I need a doll’, ‘I need chocolate’, ‘I need you’. These desires are broken down into two categories, stuff and attention. Mostly these things are wants not needs but to a three year old they amount to the same thing. Our children know they are important when we give them time, the stuff is nice but it’s probably nicer if we spend time playing with it with them. It can be draining, and just when you think you’ve done enough to allow yourself five minutes to drink a coffee, eat lunch or even read or watch something, it’s… ‘Mummy I need you to get something’, ‘Mummy look at this’, ‘Mummy this is happening’. Sometimes I just want to pull my hair out or throw something in frustration. Is five minutes alone on the toilet really too much to ask for?
Thing is though, how often are we like this with God? Our faith, our prayers become all about what we want. ‘God I need this’, ‘God I need that’, ‘God show me some attention so I know you care’, even ‘God before I can do what you asked I need…’.
Wow that’s a sobering thought. How often is my prayer life like that? It really is all about me, and it shouldn’t be. It is time I realised I am not a small child. My dad and I don’t see each other or speak everyday but I know he loves me. My husband and I do see each other everyday and do tell each other everyday, ‘I love you’ but I don’t sit there constantly after him for something. If my girls never grew out of their ‘I need you to do this for me’ phase, I would be exhausted and incredibly disappointed.
Yet often with God it is like we never grow up. ‘I love you God’ is closely followed by ‘can I…?’. You’d think after 25 years of believing in God I’d have learnt better. But no, at times I am just as bad as the Israelites and their grumbling, selfish, fearful attitude got them walking around the desert for forty years. I don’t want that. So I need to grow up and understand God loves me and is always there for me so I shouldn’t need to be the focus of attention all the time. Lets face it when we see older kids acting like three year olds we shake our heads and say there is something definitely wrong there.
Points two and three are tied together. We need to unwrap the cottonwool we may be inclined to put around our children, allow them to do things that may concern us and also give them the space to make mistakes. How else do we learn and grow? A child will never gain confidence in themselves if we don’t let them try things by themselves. My eldest used to love going to the park when really little, she’d get to the top of the slide reach for the overhead bar and swing from it. I thought about stopping her. I worried about her hands slipping and her falling, but I’d let her go for it. She loved it and never once fell. It gave her the confidence to try other things and when she did hurt herself I held her and kissed her and patched her up and she would go and try something else.
When she first got her bike she rode it too fast down a slope and crashed into a tree. It really hurt her and she wasn’t sure about getting on the bike again. But she did. It took a little convincing and I held the brakes with her when she went down that slope the first time after the crash and she got her confidence back. You can tell your kids a dozen times to hold the brake but sometimes it’s not until they crash that they realise they should have held the brake. We can listen to so much advice but sometimes some of us are so stubborn we don’t get it until it is our face planted into the rough bark of the tree. That’s when we go ‘oh that’s why you said that’.
It is all about learning and growing up. God wants us to learn and grow up in our faith just as we want our kids to learn and grow up, from sitting to crawling to standing; from letters to words to sentences. We weren’t created to lie in dirty nappies for our whole lives. If our grown kids wanted us to still spoon feed them…I’ll leave that thought with you. Yet we still want God to spoon feed us. This isn’t a new problem but God wants us to grow up.

Brothers I could not address you as spiritual but as
worldly – mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk not
solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed,
you are still not ready.
1 Corinthians 3:1-2

When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like
a child I reasoned like a child. When I became a man,
I put childish ways behind me.
1 Corinthians 13:11

If we don’t grow we can’t move forward on our spiritual journey. We cannot fulfil our part of the great commission if we don’t grow.
Back to the lessons from parenting. Then there are those times we just want our kids to obey us. There are a great many times I tell my daughter to do something and there are a great many times she seems to think I’m just saying it to hear myself speak. Sometimes my reason for telling her to do something is because I don’t want her to get hurt, sometimes it’s because it’s the best way to do it and sometimes, if I’m honest, it’s to save my sanity. Tonight it was all to do with going to bed. She can procrastinate with the best of them particularly when it comes to bed and it’s even worse during daylight saving. She was being disobedient and so I said ‘because I said so’. Suddenly I wondered how many times God has said that or wanted to say that to me. After more procrastination I took some of her toys off her. Ever wonder what your procrastination or disobedience has cost you in as far as God’s best for your life? God has something for each of us but if we don’t step up then we force his hand and he gives it to someone who will. Fortunately God is the God of back up plans and he always has an awesome plan for our lives but there have been times in our lives when my husband and I have pondered the thought of missing out on God’s best for us and we don’t want that.
So what did I learn today? I learnt that sometimes I need to be willing to hear God say ‘because I said so’. Or better yet I need to learn to do it before it gets to that point.
It’s amazing what we can learn from our kids.

The Oasis - Ch 10

Rachel walked into the kitchen flicking through the mail. The only thing for her was a postcard from Darwin sent by Liz. Rachel had been surprised the first time Liz had contacted her after leaving the hostel. She honestly didn’t expect to ever hear from her again, that was seven months ago. Somewhere between then and now Rachel had told Liz the truth, about her age and running away from home. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her about Trevor though. The only thing Liz said in response was she was right to stick with a cash job and if she could get one a fake ID might not be a bad idea. Unfortunately Liz didn’t know where Rachel could get on from but thought Jez or Brett might know someone.
The advice had not been much help though because the boys had left to travel just over a month after Liz had left and Rachel hadn’t heard from either of them since. Not that she was exactly surprised, by the leaving or the no contact, though both had hurt. She wasn’t sure whether she had been more hurt by the no contact or by the way she’d found out Jez was leaving.
After they had been together one night he’d said, ‘I’m going to miss this.’ Not her, just this, just the convenient sex. Rachel asked what he meant and that was when he told her he and Brett were leaving at the end of the week. Apparently they both felt the need to move on and the best thing about not being tied down to anything, was the fact you could just pick up and leave anytime you wanted. Rachel remembered hearing Liz say those exact same words.
Rachel was disappointed that the news had hurt her so much. She hadn’t intended letting Jez get that close. They hadn’t even known each other for three months. The three days between being told and the guys actually leaving were hard. Rachel had tried acting normal but inside she was angry and confused and more bricks were built into the wall around her heart.
Less than a month after Jez and Brett left Rachel had moved in with Mark and his brother Danny. Rachel had been sharing a place with them for around five months now and she still had no idea what Mark did, except that he was stoned a good percentage of the time. Danny on the other hand looked like a clean cut public servant, but then looks could be deceiving. Danny was the one with the contacts. Danny was the one who got her the fake, ID. He was the one who got her a job at the strip club.
The hours weren’t great but the money was definitely better and it was more interesting than working at the deli. Sure some of the guys that came in made her skin crawl but as long as they paid Rachel decided she could cope with the creepiness. In fact she quickly learnt that when serving drinks or collecting glasses the occasional brush of her body on theirs earned her some good tips. It took a little while but she soon worked out how to pick the right guys to work on.
Putting her bag on the kitchen table she headed to the fridge. She’d just had a meeting with her boss and finally convinced him to let her dance. It was better money. She wouldn’t get a great time slot but she couldn’t expect to she’d have to work her way up to what she wanted and she was prepared to do that. Rachel had just turned seventeen, today in fact, and her goal in life was to be completely self reliant, to never need a man for anything except personal gratification, on her terms and hers alone.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge she scanned the postcard before heading out into the back yard. Mark was spread out on the outside lounge smoking a joint. Rachel wasn’t sure he smoked anything else when he was at home. He offered it to her, she took it and he lit up another one. Marijuana and alcohol were her drugs of choice, if you didn’t include caffeine but most people were caffeine junkies so she figured you really didn’t need to count it.
She didn’t smoke very often but living with the guys she did, it was always around. It would have been easy to get other stuff, Danny had offered to set her up enough times but she preferred to be in control as much as possible, the occasional smoke and drinking binge were all she allowed herself. Besides she preferred to spend her money on other things. She had just about anything she wanted when she was living at home but somehow knowing she’d earned the money for it herself, rather than her parents buying her off, made stuff more valuable to her.
“Happy birthday,” said Mark holding out his beer for her to chink.
“How did you know?”
“Some chick called to wish you one, said she’d call you back later.”
“Wow you actually answered the phone, I’m impressed.” Rachel sank into the papa-san chair curling her legs up underneath her.
“Blow me.”
“You can’t afford it.”
“If you must know I was expecting an important phone call.”
Rachel didn’t pursue the topic, the less she knew about what Mark did the better it would be, after all what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. In this particular case she decided that ignorance was definitely bliss.
Mark changed the topic, “You got any plans tonight.”
“Nah, it’s my night off, I start dancing tomorrow.”
“Good lets go out and get pissed to celebrate.”
Rachel couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “Well it’s not going to be a very long party then, you are mostly pissed already.”
“That’s okay,” a third voice joined the conversation, Danny closed the sliding door behind himself as he joined the other two out the back. “When he passes out you and I can continue on with our own private party.”
Rachel smiled around the neck of the bottle she had just lifted to her mouth. Danny was the biggest flirt she knew. He had a different girl nearly every weekend and as far as she was aware she was the only person he had been with more than once. In his recent history at least. It wasn’t a monogamous relationship. Neither of them wanted that, it was more a matter of convenience. Sometimes when one of them wanted an itch scratched the best person to do the scratching was the other. It worked well. Rachel felt she was stronger than she had been with Jez and as long as they saw other people her head, or heart couldn’t form any particular attachment to Danny.
“As a special birthday treat what say you and I go out for dinner first?”
“What about me?” demanded Mark.
“What about you? There is plenty of food in the house, I’m not going to waste good food and good money on your damn munchies, you’re so stoned you won’t care what you’re eating.”
“You’ve got a point there.” Mark conceded taking another toke. “Just leave money for pizza and I’ll meet you guys down the Stamford later then.” He used the remainder of his joint to light another one.
Rachel rolled her eyes and not for the first time wondered how Mark always seemed to have pot but never money for anything else.
Danny turned his attention to Rachel, “If I were you I’d go and get changed.”
“Why, we’re just going down the pub.”
“Well if you expect to get lucky in that outfit.”
“I thought I wouldn’t need to try tonight.”
Danny put his hand on his chest in mock pain, “Oh I’m hurt that you don’t think I’m worth trying to entice.”
Rachel uncurled herself, stood, walked over to Danny and kissed him. “You might be worth it. I could do with a shower anyway, besides you’re right, it’s my birthday I might get a better offer.” Rachel went inside.
Danny shouted after her, “So might I.”
When Rachel walked into her bedroom she discovered the real reason behind Danny’s comments about getting changed. Lying on her bed was a new top, she picked it up and held it against her torso. It was dark red, practically backless with a plunging neckline, Rachel loved it. She wasn’t about to complain about the top but she made a mental note to ask Danny why. They were housemates who occasionally had sex, gifts weren’t a usual part of their relationship.
Danny was already showered and changed by the time Rachel emerged from her room. ‘Guys definitely have it easier when it came to getting ready to go out,’ Rachel thought as she looked him over. It was quite impressive considering he wouldn’t have been able to get in the shower until she was out of hers.
Rachel gave a little spin and Danny’s eye’s travelled over her body with approval. “It looks good on you.”
“Yes it does, but why?”
“Because you’ve got the right body type and it is the right colour for you.”
“Don’t be an idiot.”
“You mean I’m wrong?” Danny asked trying to play innocent.
“No you’re right, I look hot, and you can compliment me as much as you like but you still haven’t answered my question.”
“I dunno,” Danny gave a half shrug. “I saw it and thought you would look good in it.”
“And?”
“And my birthday isn’t far off and I expect something in return.”
“That’s it?” Rachel wasn’t completely convinced. “There isn’t some girl you’re trying to manipulate into sleeping with you by being seen with someone else? Though I have to say if you are I don’t mind as long as you keep paying me off like this.”
“What do you take me for?”
“You’re right I’m sorry what was I thinking, they all know you are the biggest sleaze there is.”
“Be nice or I’ll take that back.”
“You can try later.” Rachel handed him some money. He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to ruin the line of my clothes.”
“Oh, obviously.”
They headed out the door.
“Later Mark,” they shouted in stereo.
Mark grunted at the in reply from the backyard.
Rachel turned to Danny, “What do you reckon the chances are of him actually making it down to the pub tonight?”
“Pretty good, there isn’t much beer left in the fridge.”

Journey Home - Entry 11

To finish where I left off yesterday, my little girl was the first casualty. She was also the youngest victim by nearly twenty years. I on the other hand just ended up with a bullet in my thigh.
You know why my daughter died? Why a child, who had so much to give, lost her life? She died because some fifteen year old boy couldn’t handle being rejected. Some girl had told him she wasn’t interested in going out with him, “not to the movies and not ever,” according to what they printed in the newspaper.
If we all reacted to rejection that way everyone would be dead. I don’t care how extreme or stupid it may sound because that’s just the way it is. Rejection happens to everyone at some point in their lives. Okay so it happens more often for some than others but you don’t see everyone shooting people because of it. Rejection is a part of life, an unpleasant one certainly but still a part. We all have to deal with it and move on.
My baby died because another kid decided it was his right to shoot up a shopping centre when some girl said she didn’t want to go to the movies with him. That just doesn’t make sense. It also doesn’t seem fair. What exactly are we teaching our kids these days.

Happy Birthday To Me

Today is my birthday, and in honour of that I’m going to write straight through without really editing.
I’ve been thinking about my birthday a bit, the fact I’m 35 and what my life is like. Is this where I thought I’d be? I can only answer I don’t know. Do I want more? Definitely. Am I happy? Yes.
There is a lot included in just those three questions. I tried to think about where I thought I’d be now, when I was younger but I’m not so sure I ever really had set goals. I tend to set goals closer than that and try not to think about the future too much. That of course doesn’t mean I don’t dream. I just don’t dream by halves and they aren’t that concrete.
I think my goals aren’t so much about a final destination as they are about the things I accomplish along the way. So let’s have a quick look at that. I have traveled and even lived overseas, I haven’t been everywhere I want to go but I’m not dead yet. I have written two novels – okay so they aren’t published but they have been written and I’m working on that next bit. I am married to a wonderful man and have two beautiful girls. I have just finished a theatre show, my first in three years and proved to myself I can still do it. I have friends all over the world. And here’s a big one, none of the hurdles or great ditches that have been in my path have beaten me or caused me to give up hope. In the hardest and blackest times I’ve somehow managed to come out the other side.
Do I want more? Well who doesn’t? I guess though that people just want different things. I would like a house of my own, the space to have a studio and a study/library. I’d like not to have to live from paycheck to paycheck. I’d like to be published and to do films and more theatre. I want to be a person who is there when people need her. I want to be a great wife and mother. I want to continue to grow as a person. I don’t want to allow negativity and bitterness find root in my spirit. I want to continue to hope and overcome. I want to find my place, my individual path through life and travel it with honesty, integrity and yes, success. I want to hear those words when I reach that finish line ‘well done good and faithful servant’. Interesting to notice that not everything on that list is material. In fact the things most likely to contribute to me being a happy or content person aren’t. Though where does making a living from my passions fit – is that material?
Anyway moving right along. Am I happy? Yes…and no. I love my family. I am able to write and perform both things I love and can get grumpy if I can’t do. My life experiences have put me in places where I have been able to help some people out at various times. I think though the ‘no’ is important for without the ‘no’ I wouldn’t move forward, in fact I probably wouldn’t go anywhere. The ‘no’ is what provides my motivation, and brings me right back to the previous section of wanting more. The ‘no’ reminds me that I am not at the end, I am still on the journey and there is still so much to do.
So it seems I do have goals and being as it’s my birthday I’m going to throw an invitation out there – if you can help me take any steps closer to any of these please feel free to do so.
- House with studio (recording)
- Publishing deal
- Performing contract
- Advice on how to get my hubby to want to do housework
- Advice on how to get me to want to do housework
- Any encouragement for anything

Failing any of that dvd’s and books are always welcome, though I could probably do with a computer upgrade and a make over (myself and my wardrobe) more.

The Oasis - Ch 9

During the second week of her stay Rachel decided she needed to find herself a job. She had the reference from her old job at Woolworths but she wasn’t going to be able to get a job in a pub she was too young. She couldn’t go to a supermarket because they would probably check her reference and that’d let her parents know where she was. In fact a lot of jobs would result in that which was about the last thing she wanted. What she really needed was something that paid cash in hand and where she wouldn’t be asked a lot of questions.
It turned out to be a lot more difficult than she thought it would be to find a job like that. Nearly no-one paid cash. She called a few places, not wanting to go in just in case they called the police on her, but they wanted older people.
Finally she got lucky. The deli down near the train station was looking for a casual junior, it was a fair hike from the hostel but the bus that ran right past it stopped at the train station. She only found out about it because she overheard a conversation and applied before they even had time to advertise it. The wife of the couple who owned the deli was six months pregnant and had just begun to find the hours too much to handle. They offered her cash.
She told them her parents were dead and her aunt’s boyfriend beat her up so she needed a job in order to stay out of their place. The couple were sympathetic. Rachel felt a bit guilty lying so outrageously to them, they seemed nice, but she needed the job. Not desperately, yet, but she didn’t want to let it get that far, she had no idea when she would need some emergency cash.
The work wasn’t really exciting but at least it was a job. When she wasn’t at work she was with Liz, Brett and Jez. Jez treated her better than any other guy she’d been with, though that wasn’t necessarily saying anything. Life quickly settled into a loose sort of routine. Liz ended up stay a week longer than she originally intended before heading down south. They had one blazing send off for her though.
They stayed up all night drinking and watched the sun come up down on the beach. ‘Which really was somewhat stupid,’ Jez had said, ‘considering the sun set over the ocean and rose on the other side.’ No–one could argue with that but like many drink induced ideas it had seemed like a good one at the time.
Liz decided to take a taxi to the bus terminal. She figured she would be less likely to get lost that way, the cabbie could simply drive up to the terminal and kick her out. She hoped there wouldn’t be too many busses waiting she didn’t want to get on the wrong one. The alternative was bus then train, transfer to a different train and make sure she got off the at the right station. Liz was still very drunk and wasn’t feeling that confident in her ability to make the right changes at the right places.
As the taxi pulled away Rachel felt sad. She hadn’t known Liz for very long but she was the closest thing to a best friend Rachel had had in her life since she was ten, even though she’d never gotten around to telling her the truth.
“Well I guess that’s that.” Jez slapped Brett on the back.
“Yep.”
Rachel felt as though she was intruding. “I’m heading up to bed, I am stuffed.”
“Oh you wuss. I’m sure there has to be more beer left somewhere in this place.” Brett flung his arm around her shoulders.
“Fine, you go hunting for more beer, I am going to have a shower.”
Standing under the hot water felt so good. Rachel had sand everywhere, ‘but,’ she thought ruefully, ‘that’s what you get when you are down the beach for several hours drinking and being silly buggers without the benefit of many clothes or even a towel to sit on.’
She heard the door to the bathroom open.
“Hey I’m in here,” she shouted.
“I know,” Jez stuck his head in the shower. “Would you like some company?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just stepped under the water fully dressed.

Journey Home - Entry 10

I couldn’t finish it yesterday so I’m going to try again today.
That particular Thursday we were finishing our ice-creams, her chocolate chip and my strawberry swirl, looking in the toy shop window. Jessica was listing off all the things she wanted for Christmas even though it was months away. It was at that place and time when my life fell apart.
It started with a loud noise, well noises actually, one after another in quick succession. I didn’t know it was gunfire until after the fact. Jessie fell down and I threw myself over her. People were screaming and glass was flying everywhere. There was so much happening all at once it’s difficult to describe. My only concern though was protecting Jessie.
When the gunfire stopped I sat up and picked Jessie up. I was going to hug her and reassure her that everything was all right. I’m not really sure what I said because that was my last semi-coherent thought, and I do mean semi-coherent because then I noticed all the blood. Some of it turned out to be mine but most of it was hers. That was when I think I screamed.
It took two paramedics to get her out of my arms. I didn’t want to let her go even though deep down I knew I had to.
Jessie died just as we got to the hospital. I was holding her hand. They managed to revive her and took her into surgery but she never regained consciousness. She was pronounced dead in the operating theatre. The doctor told me she wouldn’t have felt anything, wouldn’t have suffered. Like that was much of a consolation.
I was so numb. I think in many ways I still am.