A single woman's search for hedonic pleasure before marriage, mortgages and making babies

Waiting In Line

You’d always imagine this should end like in the movies because, cliched as they may be, everyone likes a happy ending.


My flights about to board and there’s still no sign of that cool guy in jeans I’d grown to love, a guitar slug over his shoulder, charging up the escalator, knocking over trolleys and skidding down the corridor after me. That’s how scripts go. This is life, I guess things don’t always turn out as you hope or expect.

I believed I’d finally found my soulmate…

but I’m still waiting in line…

The Ultimatum Game

I’ve given Dylan an ultimatum…it’s cocaine or me.


Last night he called with apologies and promises, says he’ll go to rehab if that’s what it takes. Rehab?!! Has he lost his mind entirely? He’s getting more affected by all this Hollywood nonsense by the day. He doesn’t need rehab, he just needs to get away from there. How can someone as artistic, musical and creative flourish in such an artificial and superficial place as LA? Music and art are a means of pursuing truth, LA is about avoiding it. Numbing his senses isn’t the answer and neither is lounging in some five star rehab hotel pretending that he’s actually addressing the problem.

We didn’t argue. I’m leaving anyway. If he’s not at the airport with his bag, that’s it. I’m surprising myself at how strong and assertive I’m being, normally I’d crumble under the weight of an apology but this time it’s not good enough. I care too much to compromise.

My flights in two days. Music & Lyrics are sending me to Brazil, Buenos Aires and South Africa to visit their offices there and then it’s back to London in April for the Music awards. Naturally I’d love him to come and there’s nothing to hold him if he wants to, but he has to decide.

rolling-diceI’m taking a gamble I know, and then what if he doesn’t show? I’ll be heartbroken for sure. I’ll also have come half way round the world for nothing, not to mention all those wonderful places I skipped over without stopping in my hurry to get here, Bali, Papua New Guinea, beautiful New Zealand, the Hawaiian islands! I don’t want to live my life with regrets, especially not those kind!!

Still, I must roll the dice…


A year of life, love, loss and learning

Plan-DesignAs I look back over 2013 I ask myself what have I learned over the past year, if anything! When I abandoned my old life last January everyone thought I was insane, throwing myself into the unknown without a map or a plan. Some might say it’s an aimless waste of time, but then what had I got to lose except the illusion of who I believed I was. Stripped down to the bone it’s amazing what you can discover about yourself!

I’ve discovered that I can sail… or at least tell east from west… it’s a start, right? I’ve learned there’s a difference between double hung sash and casement windows, although what that difference is, I couldn’t tell you. I can talk about collar beams, breeze blocks and carbonation, that natural process of fracturing that can occur in new concrete. I understand that sailing ‘three sheets to the wind’ is not all that good, that it’s better to vomit overboard than aim for the toilet bowl and that night swimming is  the ultimate of life’s great pleasures.

flat-tireIf I ever get a flat while driving alone, I know I could change the tyre …that is, if I could just open the wheel nuts! I can even fix a broken sump (well actually I can’t, I just threw that in because it sounded good). I can predict that when the wind picks up a storm may be imminent, that squalls are a consequence of mid-level tropospheric cooling, that forces strong localized upward motions at the leading edge of the region of cooling, enhancing local downward motions in its wake…et Voila! you’re trapped in the eye of a storm with lightening biting at your heels as you dive for cover under a fig tree!

In love I’ve learned I can spot a good bullshitter from 100m across a bar ( a very useful skill), and I can easily recognize the players and the psychopaths. I know I’ll never refuse an invite to a mafia wedding, they are just too much fun! Also, from now on I will listen more to my heart more, for I understand that it will rarely lead you astray, emotions are, after all, the barometer of our lives. I’m still not convinced in ‘happy ever after’ however but I’m willing to be proven wrong.

Let’s see…



Music & Lyrics


I’ve taken the job! ‘Music & Lyrics’ the record company where I went for the interview last week have made me a proposal I couldn’t turn down, not that I would, I’d have to be insane to turn down the opportunity of world travel, writing and music.It’s as if all my dreams have been rolled into one big fat cigar of pleasure!


When I went for the interview I told them immediately I probably wouldn’t be suitable for the position, explaining how I felt about working in an office all day (leaving out some of the more colourful descriptions I’ve expressed in private here, naturally).

It seems honesty does pay after all! They want me to take on a new role (yet to be defined), but which involves discovering new talent around the world, interviewing up-and-coming music artists, covering events as well as promoting new and established clients already signed under their label. Along with music producing and managing artists they publish a bi-monthly music magazine distributed in over fifty countries. I’m giddy with excitement already, just the thought of visiting all these places gives me bubbles of joy that surpasses opening any bottle of champagne.

There’s only one piece missing in this wonderful puzzle I call life…





It’s only words

‘Con-ven-tion-al-it-y,’  a word that’s onomatopoeic not in it’s sound but rather it’s rhythm and tempo, just like ‘mun-dan-it-y.’ How different to ‘SPON-TANEITY,’ that glides on the crest of a wave then skips off the tongue with delight, or ‘FREE,’ liberating itself off the bottom lip, a true paraglider in the lexicon of great words.


My year of fun and frolics should be over by now, after all this was only intended to be an experiment, not a lifelong journey! Still, you know what they say, you cannot get enough of a good thing. As I cast my mind over the past twelve months I realize a year can be very long, or short, depending how you spend it. Before I set out on this adventure on Jan 1st 2013, I could barely distinguish one year from another, punctuated only by weekends and annual two week holidays.

This past year I’ve loved and lost not once, but twice, though hopefully not trice! I’ve explored yoga, a practice I’d never have dreamed I’d be interested in, let alone teach, visited exotic beaches, and cities that hum with sensation, indulged in strange and wonderful sights, smells, sounds and tastes (including the infamous rambutan, a supposedly delicious fruit that smells of sweaty socks). I’ve rebuilt a house in a country I knew nothing of until I landed on it’s parched earth, lived on a boat, made new friends and swam under starlit nights in a sultry sea…why would I choose to return to ‘con-ven-tion-al-it-y’ when ‘spontaneity’ and ‘free’ beckons me at every turn?

6311467848_b571244abb_zSpeaking of words, I’ve been wandering around Santa Cruz wondering what am I going to do next. There’s no point talking to Dylan, after all, men and women don’t even speak the same language. I’ve hardly noticed the city I’ve been so preoccupied with with the drama raging in my heart, but as there’s only so much ruminating anyone can do when there are humpback whales to see in Monterey Bay, I’ve come up with a rather unconventional solution.

If there’s a universal language we all speak, it must be music, and if there’s any way I can get through to Dylan, this must be it. So, I’ve sent him a message, not in a bottle, but in a song…and yes, while it may be somewhat dated and even a bit cheesy (not to mention those 70’s hairstyles!!), it might just work…



Curved balls, Cocaine… and I’m off to Santa Cruz!


Just when you think you think you have it all figured out, life throws you another curved ball! At the party last night I caught Dylan snorting cocaine in a bathroom. At first I couldn’t believe my eyes, then he had the audacity to offer me some. How could he, knowing how I feel about drugs? Seems he’s been doing it for some time. How could I have not known? I should have, especially when every party we attend is snowing white powder. Regarded as the caviar of street drugs (and probably why it can command such a premium), cocaine has earned an almost respectable, if not glamorous, image and is therefore the drug of choice amongst the aspiring middle classes, celebrities, wall street traders and social elite. While I appreciate that it does offer some rather unique physiological and psychological benefits, it’s recreational use is extremely hazardous. As far as I’m concerned there are plenty of other great ways to get your kicks.

When I noticed how erratic his behaviour had become, not to mention the paranoia which is a dead giveaway, I should have guessed immediately. Still, am I really that naive? I knew Dylan had dabbled in drugs in his early years, he had shared all that with me already, but I was certain all that was in the past now. He was so against it when I met him in Malta, said he’d never have made it in the music industry if he’d continued taking it, that it was “foolish, stupid and dangerous.”


I’m quite devastated, I feel I don’t know him at all, or maybe I just thought I did. I understand that people can change, certainly I have, it’s quite natural. Things I grew up believing I’ve had to question, after all beliefs are a bit like faith, most of the time we hold them to be true without any real evidence. Life experience shapes us and sometimes alters what we hold to be important or true, changing our values, needs and behaviour. I suspect that people who don’t change can’t be engaging in the world or learning very much. But go from being anti-drugs to a cocaine user practically overnight? How does that happen?

Okay so the album was a flop and the american critics hated it. Big deal, there’s still the rest of the world and even if it doesn’t do much better in Europe, it’s still no excuse for drowning himself in white powered self-pity.

The-Signs-of-Cocaine-AddictionThere are so many great ways to get high on life if you just look around, so why he needs this sh*t is beyond me. Is he that desperate to to be accepted here? I thought he was someone who lived according to his own rules, who wasn’t afraid to stand apart from the crowd, a free spirit with an independent mind who loved life and adventure as much as I do. I’m so disappointed in him.

When I saw him slicing blow with a credit card he did it like a pro, and all I could feel was disgust. Watching people snort drugs is about as repulsive to me as being force fed live maggots or seeing someone vomit up yesterdays half digested dinner, a rainbow of beef, potato and carrot, judging from the colours! I’ve seen people with holes in their septum from snorting drugs, it’s damn scary!

I couldn’t stay any longer, this was not my scene and never will be, so I took a cab home. After a stiff drink (ironic and somewhat hypocritical I admit) I went straight to bed then immediately got up again, shifting onto the sofa in the lounge. Tossing and turning all night I tried to make sense of it all, asking myself why, and wondering how I was going to handle the situation in the morning.

california-drivingI needn’t have bothered, for Dylan never returned home. It’s New Years Day and everyone’s on holiday. I’ve decided to go to Santa Cruz. I need to get out of this city for a few days, away from the superficiality and shallowness of the people here, and the sadness I feel because I know Dylan and I have drifting into unchartered waters.

I’m not so foolish to believe that love conquers all. Besides, nobody has the right to tell someone else how to live their life, everyone has their own path, lessions to learn and choices to make. It’s not for me to tell Dylan what to do but when you care about someone it’s hard not to sometimes, especially when you believe there’s a better way, but then again how can I say that? That’s my belief, maybe he thinks differently. In his mind maybe cocaine is the solution, at least temporarily. The only problem is you get addicted, your brain gets hijacked and everything else becomes permanently distorted, changing your beliefs and values leading you into a swamp of uncertainty and confusion. Then the solution has become the problem!

I’ve run into a few alcoholics and addicts before before so I’m under no illusions how difficult it is to help them. You certainly can’t have a relationship with one, after all three’s a crowd. Still, I care about him deeply, dammit I came half way around the world for him, I’ve never have done that for anyone, that must mean something?

What on earth am I going to do?

What a life!

Popcorn Porn

popcornWe’ve been invited to a new years eve party tonight at a new jazz and cocktail bar in Venice beach. An actor friend of Dylan’s invited us, someone he knew when he lived in the States years ago and who has since made it big in the movie business directing porn movies for women. I spluttered coffee all over myself when Dylan told me but apparently this guy ‘Sebastian’ has tapped into a niche (if you excuse the pun), having identified a growing interest in porn amongst women. Can’t say any of my friends in Europe have mentioned it to me (then again would they?),  but he says the demand is huge. He claims that unlike porn for men that is based on explicit imagery, what he does is more scripted, relying more on story and intrigue than full frontals of well endowed men in florescent g-strings. Apparently it’s very tasteful, he even offered a few to Dylan for me to watch but as I’ve better things to be doing with my Saturday nights than looking at ridiculous porn while scoffing popcorn, I’ll rather just take his word for it.

VCATo be honest I’d rather be going anywhere than this party tonight. I really can’t take much more of all the insincere air kissing and back stabbing that goes on. Dylan on the other hand seems to be really getting sucked into the lifestyle. I suggested taking  off somewhere else to ring in the new year, drive along the coast and celebrate in San Francisco perhaps, but there’s no budging him. He didn’t even suggest going another time, all he’s interested in now is who might be throwing the next party, and when he’s not talking about that he’s sleeping on the sofa. I wonder if it’s his way of avoiding having to deal with the failure of the Album?

Handmade-Mens-Mustache-House-Slippers-MoJos-Cozy-ToesI’ve been down this road before with guys, ending up doing everything on my own because they’ve lose sight of their dreams, replacing them with drinking and watching TV. Better to be happy and alone than living with someone and lonely. When did he become such a stick in the mud I wonder? Would you believe I even caught him wearing a pair of old mans slippers this morning?!

As for his moodiness and paranoia, I’m determined to get to the bottom of it…




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