I will not eat a Blow Fish

I absolutely pride myself on not being racist.  I have lived in many multicultural societies, travelled extensively around the world, actively embraced different cultures.  I have an unquenchable thirst for different cultures and I find the more I learn, the more I want to learn.  I am incredibly PC in this regard and I’m quick to jump to correct anyone who isn’t.  I actively encourage my children to relish and celebrate differences in cultures by hosting international exchange students and in a previous job, I looked after lots of children in my home all of different races.

Just to emphasise my commitment, during high school I competed at two Polynesian festivals, once for the Rarotongan group and once for the Samoan group where I was the only European representative (surprisingly).  Unfortunately I was placed in the front row, and if I didn’t stand out enough, I managed to get sunburnt the day before so I ended up looking more like a glow in the dark English Pocahontas.  However, it was an amazing experience, I mix and mingled and was accepted by my fellow performers and learnt a huge amount.  Yes, I do feel that Nelson Mandela and I are kindred spirits.

However, I have recently taken on a Japanese exchange student and have been forced to face an ashamedly ugly truth about myself.  It has become apparent that I have had an unconscious wall up around the Japanese and Chinese cultures and have at times, I am ashamed to say have contributed to racism against these cultures.  Why??  I am still trying to understand it myself.   Ignorance most probably.   

Could it be the fact that all the majority of asian constituents in New Zealand are exceptionally wealthy – they need a significant amount of funds to become a resident in New Zealand, and we are always suspicious of those who have more – rather than welcoming their contribution to our economy?

Could it be that almost everything we produce they can do it cheaper, faster, better??  Lets face it, that is pretty annoying, but we all don’t mind benefiting from it.

I once had an awful experience with a Japanese man.  I was travelling in a packed tube somewhere in London, standing up squashed like sardines against other commuters when I felt a hand start to caress my bottom.  I looked around in disgust, but couldn’t look down as everyone was too squashed together.  The man just looked me in the eye and was smiling.  This kept happening until I managed to get my hand free and grabbed him in the act. I then didn’t really know what to do and let him go and managed to get off at the next stop.  This seemed to cement my brick wall stronger than ever making it difficult to break down.  Now, I do know that one bad apple does not a race make, so why did it make me think this way?  Lets face it, he probably just mistook my plump bottom for a couple of firm peaches, who could blame him?

Just to be clear, I have never actively been racist against these cultures.  Protesters, please stay away.  I just have obviously harboured some issues, it is not everyday my bottom gets caressed.

My Japanese student arrived yesterday, and since her arrival my brick wall has been broken down in tremendous chunks at a time.  She is exceptionally friendly, polite, loving, caring, eager to learn.  She is just wonderful with my children and they already adore her.  I can not believe that I ever had a wall up at all, and now all I can think of is that I am so eager to learn everything about her and her family.  I can already sense that this is going to be an exceptionally rich experience for both of us and I whole heartedly welcome her into our family.  I thank her so much for this.  Just by being herself, I can not believe the change in my attitude and awareness in 2 days already, imagine what the rest of the year will bring!

Although, I’m still not going to eat a poisonous blow fish.

Passion vs Patience

So, I expected a number of things to miraculously happen after my first blog entry.  Namely:

1.        Oprah, Ellen, Dr Phil to be banging down my door asking for just a minute of my time to come on their show .  (Oprah, you better hurry up, this is your last season afterall) or at the very least, NZ’s Good Morning show – (just so I could turn them down, I mean, really?  Even I have standards).

2.       Publisher deals, Book launch parties (as obviously I would have written my autobiography overnight), book signings and red carpet requests.

3.       A Husband – Even despite my last post, becoming an overnight success must draw some talent my way, shouldn’t it?

Anyway, surprisingly, it never happened.  As you can guess from the above, I am not a very patient person.  I am truly passionate.  Not the rose between my teeth, stilettos and fishnet type of passionate (although that has been known to happen – disastrous consequences, another post).  I mean the ‘I can’t think of anything else passionate, excited, bursting, explosive passionate’.  I managed to blag my way through an interview once, saying that I was so excited about the job, I had a burning fire inside me, and it worked.  (Job in question – secretarial temp to an IT manager, 3 weeks).

I am like a shaken bottle of fizz ready to explode when I get a new idea.  I get so ahead of myself – utterly consumed with excitement.  Unfortunately, like a bottle of fizz, the next day, I’m a bit flat, then, by the end of the week, well, it just needs to be replaced with a new bottle.

Patient people are not like this at all.  They are methodical, cool, calm and collected.  Always reaching their goal.  They are, in my eyes, divine and the key to my road to serenity.

I would, without hesitation, trade in half a bottle of my passion, for just a mere sip of patience.  Just a sip, would see me through such a number of daily activities.

-          Building lego with my son, a box deemed suitable for 7yr olds.  Hmmm.

-          Sticking to a diet, instead of expecting to grace the catwalk after consuming my first salad.

-          Mowing the fricken lawns

-          Finding the right pair of each child’s shoe as we are leaving the house

-          Playing Board Games

-          Keeping it together whilst simultaneously cooking dinner, wiping bottoms, finding shoes and building lego

-          Completing.....well, just about everything.

The possibilities are endless!   I am on a quest to find patience!   How exciting!!!

Being Single

I have not had sex in 2 years.

For someone who has been known to say to a potential mate:  'You bring out the animal in me'.  This is not a good thing.  So number one on my 'to do' list for 2011 is to have sex. Lots of it. Preferably with someone else, rather than low lighted scented candles and self seduction.  How I go about achieving this warrants it's own special 'to do' list, so I will dedicate an entirely new post to it - watch this space.

A Man's work is always done.........by single mums.
I never ever envisaged having to mow the lawns, pump up bike tires, clear guttering, educate my son about his foreskin, clean maggots from my rubbish bin...the list goes on.  So I dedicate this post to 10 ACTUAL reasons to find a husband.  Certainly not a conventional list, but from entirely my point of view:

1.  To mow my fricken lawns!  I hate it!  I try to enjoy it, see the positives - get outside, exercise, achievement etc, but all the grass clippings down my cleavage, sweat dribbling down my bum crack, slipped discs from trying to get the damn thing started puts me off.  Once finally completed, all torture equipment put away until next weekend, I go inside to find my children have taken full advantage of Mum's distraction and have decided to make potions with toothpaste, shampoo and flour on their bedroom floor.  I take a deep breath and go to the toilet to stop myself from screaming uncontrollably - (or at least before I have thought it over properly, then scream), pull down my pants, and amongst all the grass clippings that drop to the floor, out flys a moth desperately seeking its freedom - maybe this is another sign for the aforementioned lack of sex.... on to that 'to do' list...
2.  Put the rubbish out.  This is such a traditional male job, and for good reason.  Even with my Ex, I put the rubbish out, so this criteria for a new husband needs to be crystal clear, maybe even in our wedding vows.  I do not like dealing with maggots.

3.  Penis education.  I know more about the humble penis that I or any lady should do.  I have googled penis' what they should or shouldn't do at each age, explained it to my son, but after a 2am episode to A&E because of a 'Forced Foreskin Retraction' (technical term, will let you work it out..) have decided that despite all my research and encouragement, I fail bismisly at this as I do not have the right equipment.

4.  Babysitting.  I very rarely go out - this is due to a number of reasons, mainly I can count my friends on one hand (or two fingers), and money is always an issue (this could be point no. 5).  Babysitting is a rare commodity from family members (free) as I can not afford to pay a horny spotty teenager, nor would I leave my children with one at such a young age.  Having a husband at home could mean that I could get a life - and maybe some more friends at the same time.

5.  Money - As above, 2 incomes are better than 1.  Enough said.

6.  A Soundboard.  This could be at the very least, a help in decision making, but for the most part, a barrier for my PMS rants so that my children don't receive the first wave of fury.

7. Child outdoor activities - Riding bikes, playing soccer, cricket, rugby, tennis. Go carting. Climbing. Building Sandcastles.  All activities I am usually too tired to be a part of or have 101 other motherhood priorities eg. googling penis's.

8.  Heavy loads.  There have been a number of instances whereby I have had to operate heavy machinery (Utes and Transit Vans) for collection of heavy goods eg. beds, climbing frames, furniture.  I have no will or desire to do this.  Physically is it difficult and also I need to organise point number 4 (babysitting) before undertaking this task.  It is a minefield.  I have suceeded everytime, but a much better job suited for new husband.

9.  Technical ability.  I may be falling into sterotypes here, but can new hubby please sort out my TV/DVD/HD/AVI/MP3/Multi Region/USB system to one remote with an on/off switch, volume and channel control.  That is all I need.  Preferably, could he upgrade all of the above as well.  Thanks.

10.  Take photos of me and my children.  I have no record of all of us together, as I am always the one taking the photos.  I would be devestated if 20yrs on my children are looking at their childhood photos without me in them, thinking that I may have not even been there.  All my hard, relentless and thankless work to make their lives the best they could possibly be would be worthless if I don't get some sort of recognition later in life.

I now realise that my chances of finding a husband may be slightly hindered after posting this, so all of the above will be denied until I do actually manage to find one and have a ring on my finger, and a new telly.