June 2007

I do the strangest things when I’m nervous. I behave in ways that seem so foreign. It’s as if a stranger has taken over my body and mind. It never happens at the best times either. Although I don’t know if there is a ‘best’ time to be nervous. A great example of this is first dates.

I don’t like first dates at all. It has a lot to do with the fact that I’m not exactly the smoothest first date person. I don’t giggle, cackle or grunt. It’s not that bad, in some ways it’s worse. My nerves come out as a series of delightful questions. I tend to forget the answers to these questions as soon as my date provides them.  This really defeats the whole purpose of asking them in the first place. The more question I ask, the more embarrassed I feel - the more embarrassed I feel, the more nervous I get - the more nervous I get, the more questions I ask. It’s a truly vicious circle.

Try as I might I just can’t seem to stop asking the bloody things. Every first date I’ve ever been on must leave my date feeling like they’ve being interviewed by an undercover cop. Who knew my dates are themed?

The good news is that I improve greatly by the second date. By then I’ve mastered my nerves which means I’m regained the ability to talk in full sentences and use other punctuation.

Dear Crazy Highway Drivers

I want to thank each and every one of you for consistently driving like idiots.

My drive to work everyday would be far less exciting and exhilarating if you stopped changing lanes without indicating. I like the way this keeps me on my toes.

It’s even more awesome when you drive slowly in the fast lane. I’m intrigued that you always seem to want to play this game when I’m running late.

You somehow seem to be able keep me guessing. Even when it’s raining, and I’m sure you’ve had enough, you still want to play your crazy highway games. One of your favourites seems to be the ‘riding right up my car’s ass while traveling at 120km plus’ game. Sometimes you’re so close I can see what you’ve got on that sandwich you’re eating for breakfast. This game makes me feel less alone, like we’re all traveling to work together.

I often feel like you can read my mind, that’s how connected we are. That gap that I leave between my car and the car in front isn’t a safety gap. No, it’s the place I’ve been saving just for you.

I’ve had trouble expressing my anger, but thanks to you I no longer struggle. I now know how to structure a sentence using only swear words.

I really owe you one. It’s thanks to you and your driving that I arrive at work everyday grateful to still be alive.

Much Love

Your Highway Playmate

I believe that as a woman I am entitled to have double standards, drive appallingly and inflict my PMS on my direct environment. Why? Well my reasoning is simple - when cool superhero like abilities were being handed out I didn’t get much.

I’m fully aware that I’m unable able to watch TV holding the remote in one hand and my balls in the other. I don’t have balls. Cradling my left boob in my right hand while watching a sitcom isn’t at all satisfying. Would watching sport make this more satisfying?

I realise that I’m unable to pee standing up. I just can’t seem to use a urinal successfully. I have to queue for ridiculously long periods of time just to have a wee in a bathroom that doesn’t have any toilet paper. Drip-drying is not a pleasant experience. I can’t just give a quick shake. I’m not able to have outdoor long distance peeing competitions. I have to squat and hope like hell I don’t wee on one or both of my feet. Yes the outdoors are a delightful experience for me.

I know that it is not socially acceptable for me to fart in public. If I do I can’t proudly own it the way guys do. I’ve been a closet farter all my life. I know I fart, everyone suspects I do but no one is really 100% sure. This is an identity crisis in the making. Who are you if you can’t own your own farts?

I will never be on the receiving end of a blowjob. Need I say more?

So darling as long as you cradle your balls while you watch sport, pee standing up, fart in public and are on the receiving end of blowjobs I’m entitled to behave the way do.