Doing things differently

Everything seems to be picking up speed at the moment.

Last week I picked up some casual work here. I did one weekend and was offered a full time job elsewhere. Nothing terribly exciting, just reception/office admin at a motel in town and I start Monday. I'm taking a massive pay cut and the work is brain dead stuff, but it's a good opportunity to get some experience with different booking systems and the like. It also brings in enough cash that while I am looking for something more appropriate I can MOVE OUT OF MY MOTHER'S HOUSE!

We had our first big bust up earlier this week. I was lamenting the absence of a Japanese restaurant in Kalgoorlie* and after a bit of too-ing and fro-ing she told me I needed to stop whingeing about being here and get out there and try things instead of sitting at home all day eating and moping. This is, indeed, a valid point (except for the eating thing. If anything it is my daily cigarette quota that she ought to be worried about). I did not take it as such at the time and informed her in my best shriek-y adolescent voice that I was well within my rights to be miserable and mopey as I had just moved to the other side of Australia and was busy dealing with that, OK. We both retired to our respective bedrooms (cue the obligatory door slamming) with massive glasses of wine and have not spoken about it since. Given that I have been sleeping in her spare room for just over a month and that I have, in fact, been acting the miserable chain-smoking, non dish washing (30 year old) adolescent, I'm surprised this hadn't happened sooner.

I love my mother intensely and I will defend her to the death but, good lord, she is a trying woman. She nags - my god she nags - and she is judgemental and, to be frank, quite narrow minded some times. A trait that I have only just discovered. She drinks too much and she is always much too loud. And worst, that is what people find endearing about her. She is a 'woman of a certain age' yet she will not let me pay for her to get a style hair cut and she talks way too openly about sex.

For example: there is another person living in this house and he is attempting to set me up with his friend. This is not going to happen. This evening, in a gentle attempt to rebuff his suggestions, I mentioned that there was someone on the scene that I was interested in and that I would like to see what happens there. Mother darling responded to this by bellowing 'HIM, he's just a booty call. (Name) is just a booty call. Booty call, booty call, booty call.'


I stomped off with my glass of wine. Of course.


Oh, so yeah, something seems to be happening on the boy front.


A little about him - he is only slightly younger than me (28), lovely and tall (6ft 3") and heavy on the shyness. He is also, quite frankly, gorgeous. He does, unfortunately, have a penchant for what I will call 'rap' music (I am a Nanna and shall be judged accordingly) and, as such, I will refer to him as Marshall**. And I like him.


As you might have already gathered, I am useless with boys. I have an unfortunate tendancy to not deal with my feelings, leaving the potential relationship to hang in never-never land until it fizzles out or veers into the dreaded 'casual' zone. I will also usually sleep with them too quickly. I am hideously self conscious, and filled with jealousy and I will read too much into text messages or conversations. All this gets dressed neatly, for the fellow, in a veneer of lightness and, potentially, coldness. I don't like to hold hands and I will always find an opportunity to interrupt a nice touchy-feely moment on the lounge with a distraction.


However, as I said, I like him. And I don't want this to happen here. I did wait until our third 'date' to sleep with him and I have been more open to 'togetherness,' something that he seems very comfortable with.This change of tack does mean that I will have to have a 'conversation' with him sooner rather than later. Something I am dreading more than I can say. I don't even know how to start one of these conversations.


"So, do you like me?"


"So, what do you want from this - us?"


"So..."




I came here to do something different, but most importantly to do things differently. And I will damn well have this conversation if it kills me. Rest assured, I'll let you know how it goes...




*I have been having some serious cravings for salmon sashimi. Almost pregnancy-esque cravings. Except, of course, if I was indeed pregnant, I would be unable to partake in said craving due to the whole raw fish yada yada doo-hickey.

**Yes, as in Marshall Mathers III, aka Eminem. I had the joy of listening to one of his albums the other night - I also listened to Tupac for the first time. I don't think that name quite suits him though.