On One Night Stands

Let’s face it. Once you sleep with someone, no matter what, you want them to be damn besotted with you. You want them to have fallen under your strange and mysterious spell.

And that’s fucking scary, isn’t it? What if they don’t get that? And in the morning, instead of staring into your eyes and covering you with kisses, they roll over and give you the – “please leave already” vibe.

Luckily, I don’t know what that’s like. I’m far too scared of being rejected like that, to bother taking the risk! Hence, until recently, the last time I had sex… was with my ex. (A year and a half ago. What!?)

I’d had enough friends tell me that after a one night stand, the feeling of “Yes! I’ve still got it, I’m still sexy!” soon wears off to “oh dear… I’m a whore.”

And enough experience to know that sex makes you fall in love with anyone you find semi attractive. Well, initially anyway. Plus… what about those nasty STDs. (let’s not forget about eye-herpes!!)

So, as you see, I’ve been rather conflicted on the ‘getin-some’ front, and taken to embracing a life of fantasy… where I imagine being bold like Samantha (from SATC) and having the confidence and care free attitude of the author of “My Horizontal Life”.

These girls are what I call respectable sluts! Empowered, hot and unafraid of conforming to other people’s judgement. They also own their sexuality with the familiarity and comfort of an old pair of favourite jeans. And shouldn't we all?



While I’m grateful for not jumping into another relationship straight after my ex, and for being happily single for an extended time (woot!), part of me wonders weather being happily single, is just an excuse for being too afraid to jump back in the game. As for one night stands? Well, I'd love to know your thoughts.

Cocktail Epiphanies

Rain beats down solidly for the second day in a row since my Aussie friends have left, and while I’m not feeling as devastated as I did yesterday, there’s still a sad empty feeling lingering in my heart.

The weird thing is, we hadn’t really been that close before they came. Two of them - I didn’t even know. But sometimes, on holidays, magic happens.

After a week of living purely in the moment - of bonding over chicken wings, hang-over brunches, endless shopping, and stories from our past, we managed to create that feeling you get between friends who have known each other forever.

Our crew consisted of... a dear college friend, Chelsea, who is as fabulous as she is outspoken, smart and funny. She kept us in fits of laughter with stories about the men she’s been dating, and never ceased to draw people in our direction. I had the experience of walking down a SoHo street with her and we got paparazzied! Very cool. We pretended it was totally normal for us until we rounded the corner and gave each other [the girl equivalent of] a high-five.

Chelsea managed to pick up a young woman at the luggage carousel in the JFK airport. A bright, confident and driven 24yr old, fleeing Australia fresh off the heels of a relationship break up, in pursuit of a fashion internship and a glamorous life in New York City. Ironically she was subletting in Harlem, and was the only white girl on her street. Her presence was fun and a gentle reminder of what it’s like in your early twenties... and how life gets easier with experience.

Our fourth member, was my gorgeous sister-in-law-to-be, Maz, who booked this trip on a whim as a last overseas jaunt before marriage. Maz was fun as always and all class - introducing the expression “I feel like a busted piece of ass!” to New York each morning after our cocktail infused evenings.

Of the male variety there was a spunky old-college “sepo” sometimes present in the evenings…. plus another guy friend of Chelsea’s, who was on a 30 day round the world mission of self discovery - thanks to an early bout of relationship experience, that luckily for him has taught him some huge lessons that most people don’t get to learn until well into their 40’s.

Maybe it was because we’re all on the brink of going through some exciting / scary changes in our own separate lives. Or maybe it was that we knew it was a special time and wanted to make the most of it. What ever it was, this trip will connect our time together forever. Just like the childhood holidays you have as a kid.

A few big lessons came out it for me. Firstly, I gained a special confidence that one gets when they are reminded that everyone has similar issues that they go through. Even people that appear and act to have it all together.

I also gained a sister!!... by getting to know how awesome my sister-in-law-to-be is, and how in many ways she reminds me of my wonderful step-mum, Abby. We talked relationships a lot and her pearl of wisdom that has stuck with me, among others, is that no matter what - if there’s something on your mind - always, always talk about it, no matter how hard or how much it might hurt the other person to hear.

Heaven to my ears. Frankly you could talk to me about relationships forever. Dating someone? Married? Come talk to me, I want to hear it all.

So another issue the group discussed was how important it is to keep your own identity within long-term relationships, and always take time for yourself…. and yr friends! This is huge for me because I’m actually a little identity clueless about myself. Having tied my identity to peers, my ex partners, my job and even my family, for so long now, this year - alone in NY is a revelation for me. I’m starting to get to know my true self for what feels like the first time.

***

Last week picked me up and shook me by the tail feathers. I learned a great deal and am still chewing stuff over before I discuss it here. One thing I’m incredibly happy about, is that despite drinking all week, I didn’t park one tiger. It’s a miracle people! And because of the hangover-nausea each day - I hardly ate - and may have kicked my food obsession. Hurrah!

So let it rain New York. Let me figure out what I'm really here for, and let this sad feeling be a reminder of just how much friends and family really mean.

A Cool Change

It was only fitting that the day after a great Aussie contingent left New York, a cool change has blown into the city. To me, it signifies the end of an intensely hot summer, the end of an insanely good week, and the beginning of something new…

I can’t seem to articulate what that new thing is, but it’s a feeling, like there’s something brewing. A new perspective on life perhaps…

Thank god for friends.

You Know You're an Aussie in NY when... #7

- You just took a video of a rat in the subway. (The real splinter!)

- People assume you are a crazy binge drinker. (Everyone wants to party with me. It’s cool actually.)

- You can’t stop telling people that the New Zealand accent originated from an English settler who had a speech impediment.

- You’ve never felt angry before in your life, but now you’re constantly 1 button-push away from being extremely pissed off. (Yes this is true of New Yorkers!)

- You’ve started to realize that talking to your self is acceptable.

- When people ask what crime your ancestor’s committed, you have a list of made-up felonies at the ready. (l tend to stick with bestiality)

Feet Fetish

The people on my mother’s side of the family have a thing about feet. They hate dirty feet, and place them on their list of evil, along with Hitler and pedophilia.

“I just can’t stand to feel grit under my feet!” my grandma will say, as she dustpans the kitchen frantically for the tenth time that day. These words rings so true, she actually vacuums her house every day. Every…single…day. Obsessive… Compulsive… Behavior.

When visiting Grandma, before we come in from outside – wearing flip flops, we have to stop at the laundry sink and wash our feet, like people wash their hands before dinner.

This feet phobia has unfortunately filtered down through the generations. I often clean my feet with baby-wipes before bed, and my poor little aspergers cousin, can’t even walk down the driveway bare foot, because he feels so dirty.

Of course, when it comes to ‘feet loathing’, my brother, J-Rad, truly takes the cake. “They are fucking disgusting!” he’ll say, as he stuffs whole cup-cakes into his mouth, spitting out the chewed up paper in little pellets to show me.

One afternoon, our family (Dad’s side), was sitting on the living room floor, for our weekly cheese-eating ceremony, when J-Rad was going on about how much he hates feet.

My step-mum, Abby, got a glint in her eyes. “Even girls feet?” she enquired.
“All feet,” replied J-Rad. “They are just wrong, I don’t let them near me.”

This made Abby chuckle. “Your father, doesn’t mind feet at all!”

J-Rad, along with my then-boyfriend, Ralph, and I all cringed. It was no secret that Abby and Dad had a healthy sex life. They were almost a little smug about it, and why not? In their 50’s, married for thirteen years, and still lusting after one another? Unheard of!!

Once on an email up-date to friends and family about their cruising adventures, Dad signed off with the sentence “With plenty of time to make love and read, we leave you to the next update.” (None of the children replied to that one.)

“Are you saying you’d never suck on your girlfriends toes?” Abby continued.
A repulsed look from J-Rad, “Nope!”
“Well… your father likes to suck on toes," she grinned, "and let me tell you, girls like to have their toes sucked!”

This hit a nerve. At 22 years, J-Rad was always keen to find out what girls liked, and she was stirring him. (Like she does to all us kids, in a fun and affectionate manner.)

“That’s fucking disgusting!” barked J-Rad. “If my girlfriend asked me to lick her toes I’d punch her in the ovaries.”

Ha! We all knew that he would probably lick them if she was hot.

Then J-Rad asked Ralph “Would you lick someone’s dirty feet?”
“Sure,” he shrugged.
What!? I never recall having my toes licked by Ralph. That would have involved having actual foreplay… a sore topic for both of us.

I was sure J-Rad would cave for money.
“We’ll all put in cash, and give you $100 if you lick vegemite off Ralph’s feet right now” I said, daring J-Rad.
“Get fucked! Would you lick vegemite off his dirty feet?”

I looked at Ralph’s blackened foot, with his thong hanging from it.
“How much will you give me?”
“Ten bucks.”
(Tight ass!) “Alright then.” I said, like it was nothing.

I got up and smeared some vegemite across the ball of Ralph’s foot. Then took a deep breath, bent down, and licked it in front of my whole family.

J-Rad gagged, while Dad and Abby clapped and cheered.

The things I do to prove my toughness to them.

“Easiest $10 I ever made!” I said, licking my lips.

My parents were extremely proud. They knew that it took a lot of guts for me to do, and I basked in the honor and status that it immediately earned me. Plus, who doesn’t like to make their brother feel like there’s something wrong with them?

I'm also pretty sure Ralph thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Sadly, we never took that move to the bedroom. But I’m thinking vegemite on toes would be a great foreplay article to write for Cosmo magazine, if they were to ever hire me.

The Finger Suck

I gave Ada’s hand a kiss this morning. She then grabbed my hand to reciprocate, but instead of kissing it, she narrowed her eyes, smiled at me, then put my middle finger in her mouth, and sucked on it.

WTF!!! I was so surprised, that I started giggling like a school girl. I yelled out to Jean to see if it was normal for old people to absent-mindedly perform foreplay on your fingers.

“Ah ha! That Ada! She knows trouble, you see?!” beamed Jean in broken English.

Ada was still smiling at me. I hope she didn’t want me to suck on her claws in return. I think I’ll stick to the cheek kiss from now on.

Urban Slang for the Elderly

Ada can be brutally honest, and extremely harsh for an 86 year old lady. Last week she coined a new word for me:

“A Nieviot!”

It describes someone who is both naive and an idiot. She call’s me this when I deny that her carers are stealing from her.

Usually, an insult like this would sting a bit, but this new word is so cool, I could only get mildly offended. In fact, I was so proud of her genius, that I almost gave her a high five!

I’m currently considering entering it in the urban dictionary.



Word.