Social awkwardness is everywhere

We are beings of such social awkwardness, at times I wonder how we ever meet anyone and keep them at our side long enough to be promoted to ‘friend’. Bus stops, parks, supermarkets, post shops, coffee kiosks, school trips, bus rides, family reunions, takeaways, public toilets…making eye contact is a conundrum, and in general I feel that people are afraid to hold a gaze for fear of what it may reveal, or may imply. We tend to use phones now to avoid, suspending us in a techno bubble that doesn’t need to answer to anyone or anything in that moment, we are at one with our guise. Yet we are all lonely, we  seek validation, we crave love in every capacity, but time after time we are seduced into a false expectation that we must either avoid connection for fear that the other person does not want the attention, or fill the space of the awkwardness created by it. So lets be a little more patient, with ourselves and others. I know I have in the past disregarded people too quickly, assuming that they offer nothing more than that 1 bad joke, that sideways smile or the writers block that comes after the ‘how are you?’. I am however one of these people too, I can come across ditzy, flippant, dismissive, quiet and withdrawn so why should I expect so much more from others…just last night I was taking to a friend about my wanting to find another ‘Angel’. To elaborate, Angel owns a piece of my heart, she is my best friend, my diary post, my confidant, my laugh, my quirk, the pea to my pod* and we met on the first day of Primary school back in 2007. It was one of those moments where I was waiting for that parent to walk in to the room with a presence that intrigued, and there she was, hair in pig-tales with stripey knee high socks complete with red crocs…she was rocking it and needless to say we latte’d our way through those Primary years. She embraced my quirks, my self doubt, my family, my need to create, my ass(et)…still a sore point sometimes, but to quote her it went a little like  “you gotta get that bad boy out more often”, so I did. The point however is that there is only one of her and to seek someone similar is not fair, I am trying to fill a gap created by her move across that body of water to Australia, and now here I am with a toddler in an isolated life wanting to connect with someone who will listen to all the ins and outs and vice versa, to feel that light bulb moment of gotcha**

I have had more awkward conversations about the weather than any other subject in my life, washing probably come in second place. Then there are the pull up a chair this is about to get interesting moments, where you are in the mix of some deep and meaningfuls encompassing relationship, sex, babies, cleavage, butt size, hair, life’s purpose and how much caffeine produces heart palpitations, seducing everyone into a potential caffeine detox regime, then promptly ordering another flat white. These conversations are prescribed goodness that jump you back into the reality that everyone is going through something, we are all fragile, we all have doubts, and it is here that I believe if we can just pause and observe and take a punt of a potential coffee date or playgroup committee meeting, that we will find something…what that is I am still discovering, but as long as I am open to it, it has to be a purebred winner*

So I will take my own advice and some of others too, put them in my pocket and walk on down to the coffee shop and see what happens, social awkwardness in itself can be a huge shove up the jacksie to embrace the terrifying and reap the rewards…

and just to clarify…

Jacksie is Cockney Rhyming Slang.
It means backside, bottom, arse…
The word comes from : Jacksie = Jack and Danny = Fanny.
It’s not a synonym for fanny though.
You can shove your Sony PSP right up your jacksie
by Argun August 04, 2006


So here’s to the scary, change your outfit 10 times nervewracking walk out the door voyage, that is yourself in this world of others*


P.S If all else fails have a shot of tequila*





Why I am here..

I need this space to fill a void of sorts, a chasm of unwritten words and emotions, sensations, suggestions and curiosities left untold, unheard. In the hectic mix of time I have given my voice and energy to my young children and it is now that I re-emerge into my own life, my own voice and from time to time dance again a little*

I have had many phases in life and by using this blog, I wish to re visit old phases and observe and live new ones. I find that as my numbers increase by the year, there are parts of myself that I wish to keep and embrace a little more, and others that I can happily recognise, discard and move right along, contented. Whether this be a judgement once held, or friends I have met and shared a brief encounter, the self loathing and self pity, the unconscious behaviour, or the sheer joy of dancing, tequila, friends that are never going anywhere, the babies I have made and the Mum and artist that I strive to be. We all experience life, we are all made up of the same atoms that can shine or fade as we wish, our mind is fragile and strong as we traverse our unique suspended state of emotion and memory. So I am starting a new relationship here, with myself and you, the reader.

When I gave birth to my second son 2 years ago I went down the rabbit hole and lost my life compass, N.S.E.W were all intrinsically linked to being a milk factory, a vitamin merchandiser, a poo wiper and spew recipient, a laundromat, a smiling /singing /cheek aching actor, in order to maintain a happy thriving new person. I didn’t go outside for 3 weeks, I sat on my derrière for so long, (didn’t get any smaller though), showered…um well lets say the wet wipe wash comes in very handy and should be added to the Oxford dictionary – Wet Wipe Wash; what parents do in the first 6 months of having a baby when desperate, in order to maintain hygiene standards and general sanity.

Most of all I fell in love and in guilt like a hurricane, and constantly had to check what day it was, if I was feeding right, swaddling correctly, cuddling too little, too much, how do I love everyone all at once, how can I listen to every conversation and actually respond in a way that sounds English, and how do I just let go of all the self expectation. All in all I was a Mum at home with a small being relying on me to love and function, and every time the plunket lady came or a relative came over to give advice or criticise, I would simply do as stated below…

Higher Perspective
‘Higher Perspective’

Which is basically my advice to all Mums in order to live as best you can in order to keep the baby ship sailing.

So enough with the heavy and lets get to business as I crawl back to my life..independent of children..and take my 36 years to a whole new level. This is my re awakening and a promise to myself that I would give writing a go. At present my day is literally full of terms like, tags, slugs, posts, pages, categories, SEO’s, URL’s and several blah blah blah’s that will form reality and context in my brain, just not right at this minute*

I am on a mission to speak my piece, as I know that through that first year of baby life with boy 2, I yearned for a real point of view, a cup of tea with a friend, a social injection, the joke of a stranger, or the smile of the dairy owner up the road. All in all..something real with no hint of judgement or sideways glance.

So pull up a coffee and lets meet once a week to have a conversation*

Word porn.1