<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133</id><updated>2011-08-03T15:59:21.269-07:00</updated><category term='Cassie'/><category term='Miss Diarist'/><category term='Trains'/><category term='Sex'/><category term='Love'/><category term='Mum'/><category term='family'/><category term='Work'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='Double Standards'/><category term='PBF'/><category term='Deb'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>Is life that interesting?</title><subtitle type='html'>My stories always seem to draw a crowd and mostly make people laugh. After calls to start my own blog I have finally succumbed to the pressure!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-389998385610030074</id><published>2011-06-07T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T06:26:00.044-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New life is coming</title><content type='html'>Sometimes my head goes in directions I never knew were possible…out of character, if you like. Tomorrow I will be an uncle, third time over. It never seems to lose its impact on my mind, each time I seem to appreciate more and more the little person that is joining our family. Seeing my two nephews grow up around us gives me an appreciation for just how much joy they bring to your life. And that...that there…is what always catches me off guard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I ever change my stance on 'no children', but it warms me to the idea of having them around me. It's not something I ever thought possible, but until they are you own blood, you just can't imagine the effect they will have on you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so tomorrow another one of us will enter the world, to two incredibly loving parents, one of them my big brother. It seems like no time that we were riding around the back yard on our bikes or swimming in the pool. It feels like days ago that he taught me to drive. Cruising around with his friends in their hotted up cars I never even imagines being here in this position now. It really seems like just the other day that we had no responsibility, no cares, just laughs and good times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to the next chapter for my brother and his new family. And of course I'm along for the ride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-389998385610030074?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/389998385610030074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=389998385610030074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/389998385610030074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/389998385610030074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-life-is-coming.html' title='New life is coming'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-6696976741989588241</id><published>2011-02-08T03:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T03:46:53.078-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cassie'/><title type='text'>A long time between drinks</title><content type='html'>It's been 18 months since my last post...August 2009 was the last time I logged on here. A pretty poor effort I must say! In spite of my lack of virtual communication, there is indeed much that has happened since back then. My god is there a lot. My last post had me buying a car to carry a dog, whilst being blissfully happy in love. How things change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not my many and varied stories that made me decide it was time to return to the blog. Today I had a teary phone call from my little sister Cassie who despite every ounce of common sense that exists in her head, continues trying to get a pretty average bloke to fall in love with her. No amount of dishonest behaviour has had any effect on the regard in which she holds him, to her own detriment. Despite the obvious, she continues to expose herself to being hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was then, talking to her and reinforcing that it takes time to get over someone, that I realised just how far I had come in the last six months. Since I suddenly plunged back into the world of single gay life, I have dropped 15kg, got a new job I never thought I would get, and now consider my life to be so much better than it was in the last first half of last year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that overwhelming feeling of empowerment, I started to tell my little sister how good it felt. Then I remembered something my friend Carlo had said to me, "When you look at all you have achieved in the last six months, do you really think you could have done it if you were still with him? Would you have really had the confidence or the conviction to go into an interview and get that job?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we need to learn the lesson ourselves, and when it comes to pulling ourselves out of an emotional hole, there's only so much those who care for you can do...the hard part, and the bit that teaches you the most, has got to come from you. And with that in mind I stopped, let Cassie talk, and let her begin her journey upwards...because there's nothing more satisfying than knowing you have come out the other side and it was all your own work that got you there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-6696976741989588241?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/6696976741989588241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=6696976741989588241' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6696976741989588241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6696976741989588241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2011/02/long-time-between-drinks.html' title='A long time between drinks'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-6427843664186921060</id><published>2009-08-13T04:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T05:00:13.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today the world lost a good one</title><content type='html'>Some days you wonder how the world is working. How can there be good, how can there be hope, how can so much bad happen to so many people who do no harm to others. Unfortunately, today is one of those for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I discovered in the most impersonal of fashions, that what was once a very close friend, has passed away. Not through disease, not through underhanded actions, not whilst causing any harm to anyone. Instead, in the prime of her life, she lost her life in a plane crash paying tribute to people like my grandfather – preparing to walk the Kokoda Trail. And as the realisation sets in that such a positive light in anyone’s life will no longer be, I start to reflect on the time we spent together with a new appreciation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was the girl I met on my first day at Uni. With the brightest smile in the room, she was always the one who was last to get the dirty joke. She started and finished everything with 100% effort and was always ready to try something new. She was the one who would never just sit and listen to us ramble on about dreams of travel, but instead put into action our ramblings, realising for a group of us a cruise around the Pacific Islands, a trip to the snow. No matter how big or small, she was always ready to take it and run with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was the first one to dive down a ski run while the rest of contemplated it, regardless of having never done it before. As she disappeared into the fog we all held our breath, hoping she would be alive at the other end. &lt;br /&gt;One by one, we all followed her down…such was the impact she had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was the one girl I could race around the roundabouts of Brighton with a serious challenge on my hands. She was the most excited, and proud, to be getting her new car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is the girl you just don’t forget, unique in her enthusiasm for life, warm in her innocence and simplicity. Always eager to go beyond, always eager to please, she was destined to be a great mother some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will miss her, and I know anyone who ever came in contact with her would say the same. It will forever be a regret that I wasn’t a great part of her life recently but I take comfort in knowing that she died performing a truly fitting duty as an Aussie, as an adventurer, as a person to admire. As Kel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You will forever be miseed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-6427843664186921060?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/6427843664186921060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=6427843664186921060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6427843664186921060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6427843664186921060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/08/today-world-lost-good-one.html' title='Today the world lost a good one'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-8754971121425873524</id><published>2009-07-01T06:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T06:08:13.824-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Bored Relations?</title><content type='html'>Last Saturday I went with the other half to a very swish restaurant. It had been decided when we went there for our anniversary that we would return - each with a pair of friends, both of which we saw would get along very well indeed. We spent on dinner what some people earn in a month I'm sure, but after nice wine and food, along with great company, we called the night a complete success. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we pushed on back at one of the couple's places and eventually climbed into a cab early in the morning. We had had a great a night without even the thought of a club. So it got me thinking about how my life has changed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started also wondering whether people would think perhaps this had become a little tame for me. No more big benders where I spend more time with dance floor than anyone else, instead dinners at nice restaurants, excursions to wineries, weekends at the holiday house in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;Contemplating not of my next car as a hot convertible, rather a 4wd to hold skis and a dog!?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it true: When love strikes, so too does the boringness?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if yes, how did I end up here, whilst being so happy about it?  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-8754971121425873524?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/8754971121425873524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=8754971121425873524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8754971121425873524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8754971121425873524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/07/bored-relations.html' title='Bored Relations?'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-2510275076845516994</id><published>2009-06-20T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T22:28:54.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Al Show</title><content type='html'>I sometimes feel like I am on the Truman show. So many things just seem to happen to me with such large coincidence that I don't believe they aren't orchestrated. Jobs would just come at the right time, money would come into it life...all the stuff that just doesn't seem to happen to other people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it seems that prior to the last twelve months or so the viewers of my very own Truman Show had got a little bored. The result was that the producers turned up the heat; love, work and family suddenly got a little bit crazy. The viewers seem to like to see me grappling with a number of things at once. Maybe they wonder when I will break?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now however they are cutting me some slack, with the romance shaping up to be something worth seeing! Last night came confirmation of this with a (drunk) friend telling me he thought me and the other half were meant to be together. Usually no-one pays attention to these drunken ramblings but he elaborated with such precision and passion that I couldn't help but pay attention! And so at a time when, once again on cue, I needed reminding someone was there to do it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to The Al Show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-2510275076845516994?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/2510275076845516994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=2510275076845516994' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2510275076845516994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2510275076845516994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/06/al-show.html' title='The Al Show'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-411577012759892099</id><published>2009-06-19T06:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T06:23:30.591-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The path to responsibility</title><content type='html'>It really has been way too long since I last posted, but seriously I have been so busy. I could give you all the excuses but really it's because the other half was on holiday for a month. Yes that's right, a month of annual leave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of it we spent overseas, some of it he spent here while I went back to work to get a mountain of work underway - one I should get through by August! Some of our time was good, some of it was challenging but needless to say we have come out the other end...and knowing each other a whole lot more about each other; ready to start considering the next chapter of our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of that consideration going on in my head has been forced upon me a bit, as my apartmet is for sale and thus a chapter of my life really is about to come to a close. Most people who know me are fully aware that living where I do is&lt;br /&gt;part of my personality. It has a large effect on how I live my life by virtue of where it is. I chose to live here for two reasons: it's close to my friends, and it's near the clubs I go to! The fact that everything else is so close has helped&lt;br /&gt;to define how I live my life day to day and has become an integral part of why I love living here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With all if this about to come to a close I have started reflecting on how life has been here, how much fun I have had and how much I really will miss it. The current path says I won't be back here again in this guise, but should that ever change, I know where I can return to really live and have fun. Just knowing that will probably be enough when I move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Responsibilty here I come...but hey, it's been a damn fun path that got me there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-411577012759892099?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/411577012759892099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=411577012759892099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/411577012759892099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/411577012759892099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/06/path-to-responsibility.html' title='The path to responsibility'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-632722305055984361</id><published>2009-03-27T01:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T01:56:43.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Invasion</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It's not great to come home to a note stuck to your door, as it usually means something from the body corporate telling us what we should, or more likely shouldn't, be doing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I came home rather merry and found a note in my door. Opening it I was confronted by a complete invasion of my personal safety, with the note being from the apartment right next to me informing us that they had been broken into last night. Made worse was the news that it was from the front door...which means we were all potential targets. It's not nice to know that people were comitting this crime just metres from what I usually think of as a place of safety - my 'sanctuary' if you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope it was a one off, but something tells me once the security is breached it's a known weakness and they might be back. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-632722305055984361?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/632722305055984361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=632722305055984361' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/632722305055984361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/632722305055984361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/03/invasion.html' title='Invasion'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-7772711719093217962</id><published>2009-03-24T02:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T02:50:54.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time For A Change</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;After the app on my iPhone decided it wasn't working my blogging took a major hit. Here it is working again (for the time being!) and so posts are hopefully coming your way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I decided it was time for a change and for the first time in nearly two years I took the tram home. How odd it was, to see different types of people, different buildings. Even the smallest of changes makes a day more interesting! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-7772711719093217962?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/7772711719093217962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=7772711719093217962' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7772711719093217962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7772711719093217962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/03/time-for-change.html' title='Time For A Change'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-420626244024447708</id><published>2009-01-20T19:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T19:54:24.101-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trains'/><title type='text'>Stupity at new levels</title><content type='html'>From the Connex website:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wanted to explain to our customers what actually happens when the temperatures rise. In extreme heat:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the metal tracks, which can become as hot as 60°C, expand and have the potential to buckle;&lt;br /&gt;sun-glare affects the ability to properly see signals and station monitors;&lt;br /&gt;fires can break out beside train lines and in timber sleepers;&lt;br /&gt;the air conditioning units on many of our trains are only designed to operate up to 35°C and thus have the potential to fail in extreme heat;&lt;br /&gt;the power supply to trains can fluctuate leading to faulty lights and other electrical problems; and&lt;br /&gt;power outages are also common due to the multiple demands on Melbourne’s power supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sun glare?? &lt;strong&gt;WTF????&lt;/strong&gt; Put your visor down, or wear a pair of sunglasses!?!? If people in cars can deal with having to see a traffic light every ten metres, how the hell do train drivers get so confused by the signals??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's more, that is all they have to watch! There's no other trains on their line they have to contend with steering around!! Connex you have done it &lt;em&gt;again...&lt;/em&gt;now we are entrusting our lives twice a day to people who are either colour blind or so stupid they should not be let out of the house, let alone piloting overcrowded trains all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Either that, or you just can't think of a better excuse. Which makes me think perhaps you are as stupid as the train drivers you purport to hiring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-420626244024447708?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/420626244024447708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=420626244024447708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/420626244024447708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/420626244024447708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/stupity-at-new-levels.html' title='Stupity at new levels'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-6551026427393745279</id><published>2009-01-19T05:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T05:03:44.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worlds Apart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Once a year we amble down to the park for a festival if all things gay. It's through a sense of obligation to those who had it much harder than me to live life as a gay man that I go down and walk around, avoiding the lustful eyes of men older than my father.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite this unwanted attention from people who could kill the ugly tree they hit it so hard, it's something else that always seems to fascinate me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so funny that lesbians get lumped into the same venue once a year as gay men. The difference is like Datsun and BMW, Coon and a French Blue, cask versus Veuve (assuming there is a cask version??). And yet because we are all gay, we get lumped into the same venue! I'd love to know what the lesbians are celebrating as they roll around in the dirt, their feet the colour of the ash our fine cheeses get rolled in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gay men, on the other hand, are celebrating the fact that they have managed to avoid the lesbians spilling beer all over them, as the lesbians struggle about in a drunken stupor yelling obscenities at each other as a matter of course. And so we scurried back to our apartments in our European cars and were safe once more!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lesbians seem similar to gypsies, no shame...and a foul mouth.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-6551026427393745279?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/6551026427393745279/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=6551026427393745279' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6551026427393745279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6551026427393745279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/worlds-apart.html' title='Worlds Apart'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-4398147443906862475</id><published>2009-01-13T02:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:17:01.056-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double Standards'/><title type='text'>Another Double Standard</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Talking with Deb today about potential blog subjects, I managed to remind myself of one topic that really gets to me: parents who get all the extra leave that normal people don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because you decide to pop out a baby, suddenly you get to come in late to work, work a four day week and get paid for five, or disappear at 4pm bcause kinder finished early? I don't think so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you think us people without babies would like to have Fridays off work? Or call in with a sick child and thus not come in at all?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another double standard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-4398147443906862475?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/4398147443906862475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=4398147443906862475' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4398147443906862475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4398147443906862475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/another-double-standard.html' title='Another Double Standard'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-875909801079435891</id><published>2009-01-09T04:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T04:18:06.279-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Music For The Soul</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;There are some things that never cease to amaze me: guide dogs are a good example of something I am destined to always be in complete awe of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some things that not only amaze me but move me to such a degree that I momentarily embark on a private and deep self reflection. There are not many things that prompt this in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Without a doubt, it is music that brings me to this point more often than anything else. Whilst at my parents this evening my father was watching The West Wing, and from the other room I was drawn to the tv as a piece of music started to play. Both my mother and me headed straight to the tv silently to better hear this piece of music and stood, motionless.  Moved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the show climaxes in a height of emotion over the President's kidnapped daughter, Sanvean by Lisa Gerrard starts to stream from the tv.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find it and listen to it. Stand, sit...whatever you need to do. Absorb the music and experience such an amazingly powerful piece of music that truly does caress the soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-875909801079435891?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/875909801079435891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=875909801079435891' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/875909801079435891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/875909801079435891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/music-for-soul.html' title='Music For The Soul'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-6977989090563533050</id><published>2009-01-07T05:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T14:17:09.997-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Double Standards'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sex'/><title type='text'>Double Standards</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I met with a colleague (and a friend) today to catch up on each other's holidays. After filling her in on the 'Days of our lives' saga that became my holiday, I got the low down from her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary has been blogged about before, a vivacious young woman who realised after seven years that her and her (now) ex were not on the same page. Slowly but surely she's got back on the horse - so to speak! In fact it appears she got on a couple of horses in a short period of time over the holidays. I was ever so please, as she was clearly happy to have done so and it was great to see her becoming more comfortable with putting herself out there. It seems she Is enjoying horses more than she realised!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However a comment quickly changed the focus of the conversation. It seems Mary was being very cautious about who she told as the stigma of a woman 'going riding' more than once every ten years was not one she wished to pursue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How odd, I thought to myself. In gay male culture, you could go out to a club and pick up, take them home and 'hop on the horse'. You could then shower and head back and do it all again. And if you were to tell your male friends, you would get a smile which would say 'Well done, I wish I had the courage to go out and do that!'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In stark contrast here we have a woman who is anything but the cheap and vulgar slang terms she would surely receive were she to tell the wrong person. The double standards have gone nowhere so far as I can tell, but i'll turn straight before I submit to those. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good on her I say, and if she wants to enter every horse race in the country what does it really matter so long as the horses don't already have a rider??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-6977989090563533050?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/6977989090563533050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=6977989090563533050' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6977989090563533050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6977989090563533050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/double-standards.html' title='Double Standards'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-657983792019017719</id><published>2009-01-07T04:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:33:00.880-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PBF'/><title type='text'>Elusive harmony</title><content type='html'>Someone once said to me that there are three things in life that are important to everyone - love, home and work - and that of these things there will always be one that isn't performing as you would like. Ever since hearing this, I thought this was the case insofar as my life was concerned, with one coming good whilst simultaneously another started to fail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, just before the end of the year, they all came good and stayed that way and I thought I really had sorted out my life so well that I had attained the unattainable. Little did I realise what was coming my way...for I had not been made aware of the fourth element in this equation: friends. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so begins the latest disaster to mop up as the PBF and me are no longer on speaking terms. A series of events over the Christmas break whilst holidaying with my closest friends (including the PBF) have made me question when discretion should be used with your friends, and when you should just be blunt and tell them how you feel about what they are doing with their life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you would have read from previous posts, the PBF has an entirely unhealthy obsession with a man he simply can't have. This obsession has been going on for well over a year, with me having to hear about it every single time I see the PBF. At first it seemed comical and harmless however it's manifested into an unhealthy, sad and lonely obsession that is beginning to effect PBF in such a way that he is volatile and withdrawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wonder, do you call them early on this type of thing and be completely honest? Or do you do as I did on this occasion and make it clear that you don't think there's a chance, all the while knowing the person is not listening to what you are saying?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By taking such an approach we have had a disagreement of such magnitude that we aren't speaking and I am now faced with emailing PBF to ensure he knows where I stand. And despite only ever having the best of intentions, I have a fair idea none of it is going to register with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elusive harmony in life once again slips away...I did get close this time though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-657983792019017719?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/657983792019017719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=657983792019017719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/657983792019017719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/657983792019017719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2009/01/elusive-harmony.html' title='Elusive harmony'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-8011037572783782440</id><published>2008-12-06T10:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:35:10.907-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Fate</title><content type='html'>So I'm going to tell you a story...I'm not quite sure what it means yet but that will become obvious soon enough I'm sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been out for the last two nights, finding it really tough to go out and see a world of sex, substances and sordid behaviour that I thought I would never have to deal with again. I really felt that I as never going to be single again, but here I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, tonight I felt I was making progress then I got text from my ex...."I have just met Matt and apparently you said all good things about me. I miss you xx". Instantly my heart sank and the tears formed. I became a mess. Fuelled by a lot of alcohol I was heading to a dark place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now regular readers will be keen to know that Matt was the man I have blogged about before. The antithesis of my ex, successful and older, he was everything I described I wanted to have to get over my ex. I met him on a recent business trip to Perth. He has been on my mind a lot lately as I really think he is someone I want to be part of my life. Little did I realize why....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it turns out that Matt had gone out and got talking to a cute young guy who was talking about his boyfriend and how things had ended. Matt had given him his opinion of the situation, saying that he thought the reasons he had given Matt for why the relationship had ended were a load of rubbish. The young man then showed Matt a photo...Matt apparently nearly fell over when my face showed up on screen!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there was my ex seeking relationship advice from a guy I had met in Perth once! I don't know what will happen, but my god the world is an odd place!!! I have always said that I felt we were just meant to be together, and this just encourages it. Maybe I'm wrong but right now it feels that way!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-8011037572783782440?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/8011037572783782440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=8011037572783782440' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8011037572783782440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8011037572783782440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/12/fate.html' title='Fate'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-194854906393798615</id><published>2008-11-29T06:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:35:10.907-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PBF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Support Card</title><content type='html'>My PBF is very interested in all things spiritual, drawing much comfort from it in a time where he is clearly still coming to grips with the death of a long term relationship about a year ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my break up I have been encouraged by him to draw a card from the pack of Angel cards he has, in order to get some guidance and direction amongst a sea of confusion that is going on in my head. Four times out of six I have pulled out the card 'Support'. It encourages me to rely on friends and take in their advice and support as much as is required. It seems this card knows what I am going through. It seems it wants me to realise that friends are there in good and bad, and in the bad it should not be a time when you worry about burdening them with you problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each time I pull it out I am reminded of the support I have received over the last few weeks. Not once have any of my friends or family ever even looked like they were over hearing me talk about the break up. Not once have they done anything but support me. It makes me so appreciative, so loved and most of all, it makes me realise that life does go on after all. Even readers of this blog have shown their support, for which I am eternally grateful also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So from a very dark place I have been nursed through. I hope you all draw the support card occasionally too, because even though when in a time of despair you may not realise what has been done for you, it soon becomes clear that your friends are never far away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-194854906393798615?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/194854906393798615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=194854906393798615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/194854906393798615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/194854906393798615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/support-card.html' title='Support Card'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-3891264822371895776</id><published>2008-11-26T04:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:35:10.908-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Sleepness Nights And Many Tears</title><content type='html'>It's three weeks tomorrow since life as I knew it came crashing down. And while the roller coaster has been rough, nothing has played more on my mind than the fact that 'he' seems to feel the need to make himself feel better by contacting me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do people feel the need to contact you after a break up? Initially I had hoped it was a signal fire...a testing of the water to see if I would respond well to a potential reconciliation. It quickly became apparent that it was far more self indulgent than this. Reconciliation was not the name of the game he was playing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead it appears that it was nothing more than the ramblings of a mixed up young man, exposing heavily the lack of maturity he had thus far hidden so well. Any attempts conveyed by me to convince him to stop contacting me have so far been ignored after a few days of silence. And so I wonder, how do I get on with falling out of love with this man if he keeps re-entering my life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More pertinently, how do I ignore the voice in my head that, filled with misguided optimism, says 'just maybe, this will be the email telling me he made a big mistake'? I am torturing myself and getting nowhere, and all the while becoming more exhausted with life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this what every person who suddenly finds themselves abruptly single goes through? It seems there will be more sleepless nights filled with many tears.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-3891264822371895776?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/3891264822371895776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=3891264822371895776' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3891264822371895776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3891264822371895776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/sleepness-nights-and-many-tears.html' title='Sleepness Nights And Many Tears'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-6643608735978869845</id><published>2008-11-10T05:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T19:42:43.717-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Deb'/><title type='text'>It's All About Timing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://lifesillusionsirecall.blogspot.com/"&gt;Deb &lt;/a&gt;made reference to the random act of kindness I experienced while she explored hers in her post a few days ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The value in mine was less to do with the actual act (as hers was) and more to do with the timing. Last Friday morning I got on the train looking like hell. I hadn't slept at all since the Tuesday night, and had been made single on Thursday. I was feeling very shabby on the outside; tired with very puffy red eyes from too much crying. It can't have looked good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got on the train and checked to see if I had any emails from supportive friends who had found out about the break up. 'His' name came straight up and immediately I felt the blood drain from every limb. I felt like I was just going to crumple into a ball on the floor of the train. I couldn't hold back the tears and the entire train was able to witness my moment of sheer desperation and loneliness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled myself together as quickly as I could and tried to think about anything but the failed romance. I got off the train at the usual stop and walked towards the exit. I was suddenly tapped on the shoulder by a man who grabbed my hand and put a piece if paper into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked off smiling realising what would be on the paper. He cheered me up for the entire five minutes I walked to the office. Upon arrival it was unravelled as people asked me about the very subject I just wanted to avoid! But it gave me hope...hope in other people and hope in meeting someone else in the future (although right now that makes me feel sick). And so when I least expected there was anything the universe could do to me that would make this feeling of anguish disappear (even just for a moment)....it delivered. It did it with a cheeky smile too, which always makes me smile even more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted with &lt;a href="http://lifecast.sleepydog.net/"&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-6643608735978869845?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/6643608735978869845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=6643608735978869845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6643608735978869845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/6643608735978869845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-all-about-timing.html' title='It&amp;#39;s All About Timing'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-4306704751079444982</id><published>2008-11-08T08:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T08:25:16.018-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Can't Say Anything Nice, Blog.</title><content type='html'>It's night number four of no sleep. I am so sick of seeing the alarm clock with a '3' at the front and still not being asleep. I'm getting sovtired that the emotion does not seem to be dissipating at all. The professionals tell me that there is a number of things I will feel, in no particular order, and I might come back to some even though I thought they had been ticked off. Shock was the first, followed by anger then depression. Finally it's acceptance, which is a million miles away right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am successfully chopping and changing between the first three, with the shock starting to calm a little...although I still have my moments with that one. However today I feel anger setting in at a fierce rate. I woke this morning still basically unslept and grabbed my phone to check I hadn't missed a brunch appointment designed to occupy me for the morning. A red '1' on the mail icon could only mean one thing...and of course I was right. I had responded to a message telling him I could not be his friend  He had responded with an email: an outpouring of emotion designed to make himself feel better. A*sehole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I responded swiftly befor even letting tears form, telling him that I would not be letting him do this. Once you decide you want out you no longer get to define any terms of an ongoing relationship (correct me if I am wrong). If I can't deal with it, he has to live with it and any attempts otherwise are self involved and unfair. I managed to get all of this out, noting along the way that I had given him every opportunity to not leave and to remain part if my life - no part of OUR life. Then I cried for half an hour, wishing the email exchange had been one more positive &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It made me so angry and now that is all I can think of him. How dare he get annoyed at me for not being able to be his friend through this agony I am in right now. There are so many enraged thoughts I could put here right now but none of you would get to read it for the filters!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when you make the decision to end a relationship the least we can do is respect that the other person feels and reacts differently, and even if we don't understand that reaction we still have to allow for it. Otherwise you are just another selfish jerk.   &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-4306704751079444982?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/4306704751079444982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=4306704751079444982' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4306704751079444982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4306704751079444982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/when-you-can-say-anything-nice-blog.html' title='When You Can&amp;#39;t Say Anything Nice, Blog.'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-4519989065980595731</id><published>2008-11-05T05:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:36:08.263-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The End Is Near</title><content type='html'>The pain hasn't set in yet, but I know it's on the way. I'm on my own already, and I know any positive thoughts are going to dissolve pretty quickly when I hear those words. And despite all this, I sit and wait. There is nothing more I can say to fix it, no more I can do to convince him that it's not worth throwing this away. He is going to throw it away and maybe one day he will wonder why he did...maybe he wont. But I'm never going to know because very soon I'm not going to be a part of his life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel a little like a deer staring at the headlights of an oncoming car. You know the end result isn't going to be good, but you can't seem to get out of the way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Numb. No end in sight. No amount of words from friends that are going to make any difference despite their most noble of intentions. Why do we keep trying? We simply must be far stupider than we look. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-4519989065980595731?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/4519989065980595731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=4519989065980595731' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4519989065980595731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4519989065980595731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/end-is-near.html' title='The End Is Near'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-798610940179355711</id><published>2008-11-02T19:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:36:08.263-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Victim Of Circumstance</title><content type='html'>Life leads you in funny directions. Sometimes where you hoped to go, sometimes not. I think without a doubt the more unexpected paths become the more rewarding ones...being out of your comfort zone and all that jazz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people discover that they flourish in this situation, and some don't. I think for the most part, I fall into the former category. I take things as they come and try to remain calm and focussed in the things at hand. Right now however my other half has found himself to be a fish out of water and in a word, drowning. Work takes him away far more than his previous jobs and life for him is no longer what he once knew. None if this would matter too much to most people but when you factor into this a new romance it's a lot for anyone to cope with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strain on our relationship has become so heavy that he is questioning how long he can maintain both his job and the relationship. And as I agreed, we both know which would be on the chopping block.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so despite a romance that is treasured by both of us, we appear to be in a situation neither of us know how to fix. The relationship has become a victim if circumstance and I wonder what there is to combat that? Neither of us know how to fix it, but neither wants to leave.  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-798610940179355711?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/798610940179355711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=798610940179355711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/798610940179355711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/798610940179355711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/11/victim-of-circumstance.html' title='Victim Of Circumstance'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-7408450729635360595</id><published>2008-10-30T04:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T05:20:46.137-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Work'/><title type='text'>Networking Purpose</title><content type='html'>Deb and I made our way off to work drinks this evening, both happy in the knowledge that the other would be there and that a good time was guaranteed. We sat in a corner looking at the view out the window from scarily high above the other buildings and it suddenly became apparent to both of us that we really weren't socialising with anyone else at all. In fact, we really didn't have much interest in doing so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A conversation ensued and it became apparent that Deb's understanding of the aforementioned monthly drinks was vastly different to mine. As a marketer I looked at the room and saw many potential networking opportunities. The only problem on this occasion was that I already knew almost everyone on the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However Deb saw nothing like this. I will leave it for her to confirm her opinion of the gathering's purpose but I'm assuming she felt it was more a chance to drink and chat to your closer colleagues. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So whilst it had been enlightening for her and a reminder that I really shouldn't be sitting in a corner, neither of us thought about moving for one moment. Then something happened and we were on our feet...our champagne ran out! So off we went to the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does beg the the question though: Are work drinks a time to relax or are you still on the clock? And if you're still on the clock, how do you leave to return your personal life (of which you have just given precious time) without being frowned upon by your superior?  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-7408450729635360595?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/7408450729635360595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=7408450729635360595' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7408450729635360595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7408450729635360595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/10/networking-purpose.html' title='Networking Purpose'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-7862744394391772576</id><published>2008-10-25T05:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-25T05:22:22.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections in the waters of Hawaii</title><content type='html'>It&amp;#39;s funny how things turn out in life. Have you ever taken a moment,  &lt;br&gt;paused to reflect on where you are or what you are doing, and more  &lt;br&gt;interestingly, how you never imagined you would be in that moment?&lt;p&gt;It happened to me recently, whilst on holiday. Nearing a state of  &lt;br&gt;relaxation akin to unconsciousness, I contemplated my current  &lt;br&gt;situation. On a beach in Hawaii, missing my boy, I wondered how I had  &lt;br&gt;got there. And whilst I know not everything is always planned I think  &lt;br&gt;most people know the types of places they want to visit or activities  &lt;br&gt;they want to do. And so I was able to appreciate a whole lot more the  &lt;br&gt;fact that I wasn&amp;#39;t doing something I had waited forever to do. Instead  &lt;br&gt;I had proceeded to do something somewhat out of the plans i haf for  &lt;br&gt;myself and that in itself was rewarding!&lt;p&gt;Al&lt;p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sent from iPhone&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-7862744394391772576?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/7862744394391772576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=7862744394391772576' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7862744394391772576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7862744394391772576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/10/reflections-in-waters-of-hawaii.html' title='Reflections in the waters of Hawaii'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-8917142850330557447</id><published>2008-10-01T05:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T05:38:59.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Left Of Field</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine told me of such an usual comment that I am not sure what else to do but put it up here and invite comment. I'm sure MD, Deb and my usual commentators will have something to say on this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The friend at the cente of this unusual story was asked to find someone with particular IT skills to do some work for her organisation. In contact with someone she soon signs him up for the job, and informs him via email that he's got the contract. He replied very happy to have the work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a social person and good motivator of her staff she informs the new contractor via a short email that he should join them for drinks on Friday night. The response was something I did not even see coming. "thanks but I already have a girlfriend". What the...???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lost for words. What man possibly thinks his new boss I'd planning to take him on a date the first Friday he starts work?? In fact even if it was just a colleague, surely this assumption is not normal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No wonder so many men are SO single if this is how they carry on! Do they really think that everyone wants to get into their pants? Do they think it's that easy to play the field?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surely not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-8917142850330557447?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/8917142850330557447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=8917142850330557447' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8917142850330557447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/8917142850330557447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/10/left-of-field.html' title='Left Of Field'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-3456637967609425767</id><published>2008-09-13T21:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T04:36:08.264-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Admirable.</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine seriously impressed me the other night...doesn't happen that often with my friends so I was pretty happy with the whole experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sick of being in a relationship she couldn't see any future in, she called it what it was and ended it. Sure it might have taken a while to get there, but never is it 'too long'. Sometimes you need to get to that point of finality yourself, but when you do it's incredibly empowering. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another friend ended a seven year relationship a couple of months back after finally realising the guy she was seeing was never going to propose and didn't seem to want anything more from her than he already had. No kids, no house together, nothing to plan for. So despite what must have absolute heartache, she also called him on it and threw him out of their house - or should I now say 'her' house. The first month was understandably hard, alone at home was an unusual and upsetting scenario she had not envisaged she would be in. Two months on she is a changed person. Empowered by taking control of her life, rather than just going along for the ride, she is determined, focussed and ready to move on. Admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al   &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-3456637967609425767?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/3456637967609425767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=3456637967609425767' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3456637967609425767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3456637967609425767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/09/admirable.html' title='Admirable.'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-4933080597797619021</id><published>2008-09-10T20:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T20:34:07.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dangerous Travel</title><content type='html'>I am not a huge risk taker, certainly not where my life is concerned. Sure I race a car from time to time out on a track, but I am completely in control and never go faster or push harder than the known bounds of my ability. So why is it that everytime I get in a cab I feel like I have just made a very foolish decision?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot remember the last time I was in a cab where the driver was piloting the vehicle in a satisfactory manner. I am also unable to recall a time when the cab driver knew where he was going despite directions from the passenger(s) and completely in defiance of the sat nav's suggested route. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As someone who likes to develop in their job, I find it hard to understand how these people go about their employment with the most basic level of understanding possible. Granted many are migrants who are studying at night, but does this mean they should be allowed to perform their job negligently? If a crane oprator  approached their job with same level of commitment they would be fired immediately - and they don't even take passengers! So why then do we allow taxi drivers to do the same?? &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-4933080597797619021?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/4933080597797619021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=4933080597797619021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4933080597797619021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/4933080597797619021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/09/dangerous-travel.html' title='Dangerous Travel'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-2501714194228442721</id><published>2008-09-08T07:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T07:11:31.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Equilibrium Of Hot</title><content type='html'>When I was in Year 8, I decided I wanted to be a porn star. What's so interesting about that I hear you ask? Well I saw nothing wrong with it either and felt so comfortable with it that I announced it my accounting class. Needless to say that at one of the top private schools in the state, renowned for delivering exceptional academic results every November, it was not received that well by staff and a flurry of concern ensued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did genuinely think it would be a great job. Work a few hours a day, hang out with hot guys and without a doubt in my mind I would be doing something I truly love! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often had discussions with my friends on how they would cope if they somehow manage to fall in love with a porn star...and when I say fall in love I mean the type that is reciprocated - not fantasizing whilst watching his latest offering (so to speak!) on DVD. I'm by no means the jealous type but I just don't think I could do it. The notion of someone else portraying what I consider to be the most intimate and personal act with your partner, would make me physically sick. Ironic it is that I couldn't date one but I could be one myself! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so begs the question, if you want the hottest guy or girl out there, are you happy to take what may come with it? Every guy I have dated has been a model at some point and whilst I wouldn't consider myself a modeliser, there is no way in hell I am walking down the street with someone average. The last one started to become annoying when walking down the street as people would actually stop what they were doing to look at him. Novel at first, annoying after a few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fine line between exceptional and high maintenance seems ever elusive...lucky I already found that equilibrium! Those who give up on finding it are easily identified - they are the ones who 'go for brains not looks'. Rough translation on this: I settled because I couldn't do any better!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al        &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-2501714194228442721?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/2501714194228442721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=2501714194228442721' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2501714194228442721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2501714194228442721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/09/equilibrium-of-hot.html' title='Equilibrium Of Hot'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-5189931465831567602</id><published>2008-09-08T06:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:34:02.107-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1.5 People</title><content type='html'>So I am officially over fat people. Luckily I have never been under one, now that I think about that horrifying thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent $230 on a ticket for a seat at Mardi gras back in March, only to get to my seat and find that I couldn't sit there because a rotund lesbian who would interpret a 'Long mac' as a massive truck, not a coffee, was taking up not only her seat, but at least half of mine too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is becoming a more frequent situation I seem to face on the train coming to work. Fat people, little seats and not enough room for my perky butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the ten years between 1985-1995, obesity in youths aged 7-17 tripled. The implications of this concerning statistic is being felt now. These youths are adults who now frequent my train! As the fattest nation in the world this is surely only going to get worse. So as the people get fatter, we are trying to squeeze more and more people into each carriage in the hope that one day the train operator might actually do something about it. I wonder if, were we to remove these mountains of unused energy from the trains, would there be room enough for the rest of us aboard our daily commute?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al    &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-5189931465831567602?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/5189931465831567602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=5189931465831567602' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/5189931465831567602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/5189931465831567602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/09/15-people.html' title='1.5 People'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-2016104775176369942</id><published>2008-09-05T03:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:11:12.326-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PBF'/><title type='text'>The Homophobic Gay Man</title><content type='html'>My PBF and I would chat regularly about potentials we had on the go. It was a well known fact within our circle of friends that he was the talker, I was the do-er (pardon the pun). He would regularly talk about various individuals where the potential for a relationship hadn't progressed over a six month period. I would have met and...well met, at least a few in that period of time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PBF's current distraction, for want of a better expression, is nicknamed JJ. This nickname gets used regularly on the phone so PBF can provide with regular updates. So began the single sided love affair that became rather boring to listen to, rather quickly. JJ would ring up PBF and ask him to go out to a club, and so sooner would they be in the club, JJ would disappear for the night turning up at work the next day at lunchtime - if at all. Whilst not so clear to PBF, it's clear me that PBF is being used. JJ simple wants someone to walk in the door with because he doesn't have the confidence to do it alone! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The strangest thing about JJ is that he is not comfortable with gay people in general. Recently at PBF's house prior to venturing off to the favourite Sunday night club, JJ decided to join us. No sooner had be walked in the door, he had swiftly moved to the nearest girl and was chatting to her like he was trying to pick her up? What was he so afraid of? That the gay people who already know he is gay will see him talking to a man and suddenly remember he is gay and bash him up? Or worse still tell all his friends and family? It's such strange behaviour that I simple don't comprehend - be proud if yourself, get a life and start living it. Otherwise it will pass you by in the blink of an eye.  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-2016104775176369942?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/2016104775176369942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=2016104775176369942' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2016104775176369942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/2016104775176369942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/09/homophobic-gay-man.html' title='The Homophobic Gay Man'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-7392091143437788677</id><published>2008-08-31T05:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:12:10.319-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mum'/><title type='text'>My Mum</title><content type='html'>It's the simplest things sometimes about my mum that remind me so often of how much I love her. I'm in tucked up in bed right now trying to get an early night where I at least get to bed early even if I am laying here blogging!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm firmly tucked up in bed under a nice new dooner my Mum bought me because she heard me complaining about the old one being too small. Despite these merely being grumblings from an over-tired man who was repeatedly losing the dooner war against his partner, she took note!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days later I went to visit and there was a brand spanking new dooner sitting near the door ready for me to rush home and solve all by sleeping problems in one hit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's yet to be road tested but that's beside the point. I unashamedly admit that I am indeed a Mummies boy, and would not have it any other way!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Posted with &lt;a href='http://lifecast.sleepydog.net'&gt;LifeCast&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-7392091143437788677?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/7392091143437788677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=7392091143437788677' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7392091143437788677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/7392091143437788677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-mum.html' title='My Mum'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-358408573657056688</id><published>2008-08-30T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:09:20.160-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>Love vs. Location</title><content type='html'>I grew up in what many would call an unusual family. We were never the  &lt;br&gt;family if 2.3 children and a brick veneer home. From a wealthy bayside  &lt;br&gt;suburb where all the footy players now seem to reside, we moved to a  &lt;br&gt;wealthy country area and then back into one of the most sort after  &lt;br&gt;suburbs if the time. Redefining the term &amp;#39;cosmopolitan living&amp;#39;, it  &lt;br&gt;mixed bayside living with close proximity to pretty much every  &lt;br&gt;conceivable need one could have. Moments from the CBD, it was right on  &lt;br&gt;the water and seemlessly mixed what is now a benchmark for cafe  &lt;br&gt;culture in Melbourne. For me none of this seemed out of the ordinary.  &lt;br&gt;After all, wasn&amp;#39;t this how everyone lived?&lt;p&gt;So begged the question: What was the point of living out in the  &lt;br&gt;suburbs? I never got it, I have to say. I concluded from my own  &lt;br&gt;thinking that perhaps people liked the lifestyle of days gone by. Of  &lt;br&gt;having kids and letting them play with the neighbour&amp;#39;s kids, popping  &lt;br&gt;next door for a cup of sugar...that sort of thing. From what I could  &lt;br&gt;gather, this had to be the attraction. People wanting to live like  &lt;br&gt;it&amp;#39;s 1950 and pretend the &amp;#39;stranger danger&amp;#39; was not a reality, but  &lt;br&gt;that their child was perfectly safe down the street with little Timmy  &lt;br&gt;Jones.&lt;p&gt;So, perplexed by the value the outer suburbs held, the time came for  &lt;br&gt;me to move out. There were not really many options I could see I had,  &lt;br&gt;or more to the point - needed. A large contingent of friends in a  &lt;br&gt;concentrated area also happened to be the location for the types of  &lt;br&gt;places I was going out and so it made sense to live there. An inner  &lt;br&gt;city suburb rich in cafe culture, it was sporting a vast array of  &lt;br&gt;clothing shops only a latte or two away. I settled into my new  &lt;br&gt;location easily and was immediately comfortable calling it home! I  &lt;br&gt;also managed to plug a geographical gap in a line of friends that  &lt;br&gt;would lead straight to our preferred club, meaning that if the first  &lt;br&gt;one decided they were going out, they would collect the rest of us  &lt;br&gt;along the way...the final stop being the aforementioned PBF.&lt;p&gt;It was not until very recently that I was given a new perspective on  &lt;br&gt;why people might live in these outer suburbs I hear so much about -  &lt;br&gt;yet know so little. The new romantic interest lives in one such suburb  &lt;br&gt;and is building another house close by. He alerted me to the notion  &lt;br&gt;that perhaps people could not afford to live any closer to the CBD.  &lt;br&gt;What? Who were these people and where did they come from? Was this  &lt;br&gt;common I wondered? Where did these people work? Or shop? Or drink  &lt;br&gt;latte even? It all seemed so alien to me - like noticing for the first  &lt;br&gt;time a tree you have driven past hundreds of times.&lt;p&gt;This ignorance soon came to an abrupt end when the subject of me  &lt;br&gt;moving into the soon-to-be-built home in the outer suburb came up. &amp;#39;Of  &lt;br&gt;course I would consider&amp;#39; I said, unaware of what I was potentially  &lt;br&gt;signing up for.  So where does one start in researching life in the  &lt;br&gt;&amp;#39;burbs? And would I even survive if I was to make such a bold  &lt;br&gt;geographical move? All are questions I need answers to before I shoot  &lt;br&gt;my mouth off again...&lt;p&gt;And so the question begs, what sacrifices will you make to ensure your  &lt;br&gt;relationship remains intact? Would I go crazy in an outer suburb  &lt;br&gt;filled with growing families and screaming kids? Would I develop a  &lt;br&gt;complex living in such a suburb knowing full well that the majority of  &lt;br&gt;people surrounding me would probably read the &amp;#39;wrong&amp;#39; paper (if they  &lt;br&gt;read one at all). Would I be surrounded by criminals a parent had  &lt;br&gt;potentially sentenced to lengthy jail terms?! All of this for love?!  &lt;br&gt;Suddenly love seems a bit dangerous!&lt;p&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-358408573657056688?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/358408573657056688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=358408573657056688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/358408573657056688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/358408573657056688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/08/love-vs-location.html' title='Love vs. Location'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-9019411977881402749</id><published>2008-08-29T07:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:10:27.436-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PBF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The past and the future</title><content type='html'>I have recently been married off and so my PBF and I have been  &lt;br&gt;spending far less time together. &amp;#39;What&amp;#39;s a PBF?&amp;#39; I hear you ask. Good  &lt;br&gt;question.&lt;p&gt;My friend and I had long been suspected of having it off by one friend  &lt;br&gt;in particular. Both of us had just come out of relationships and  &lt;br&gt;shared a number of interests which meant it was seamless a friendship.  &lt;br&gt;Despite the ease with which we spent every conscious moment with each  &lt;br&gt;other there was never (on either person&amp;#39;s agenda) the notion of taking  &lt;br&gt;the relationship anywhere outside of a friendship. And so people  &lt;br&gt;talked whilst we laughed at the idea - unable to conceive how ANYONE  &lt;br&gt;could see the other in such a light. It had all the trimmings of a  &lt;br&gt;sibling relationship.&lt;p&gt;One day such a friend (of both of ours) made a remark about bringing  &lt;br&gt;my &amp;#39;pseudo-boyfriend&amp;#39; along to a yet another party. I was a bit  &lt;br&gt;shocked. My pseudo-boyfriend? Was this another term for a +1? Or was  &lt;br&gt;this something more? After further investigation it appeared to be  &lt;br&gt;more than just a +1. It was in fact more of a boyfriend without the  &lt;br&gt;physical gratuities that came with such a title. And so our pseudo  &lt;br&gt;relationship began, without us ever consciously knowing it had even  &lt;br&gt;begun.&lt;p&gt;When you think about it, maybe that&amp;#39;s how they have to start? Someone  &lt;br&gt;else has to inform you that you appear to be in a relationship and  &lt;br&gt;thus you have just acquired a PBF. And while you&amp;#39;re single and having  &lt;br&gt;fun what harm can it do? You always have someone to go out with, you  &lt;br&gt;never need to make the &amp;#39;plus-one-calls&amp;#39; at the eleventh hour looking  &lt;br&gt;for someone to go to a mediocre party with. It&amp;#39;s kind of like the f**k  &lt;br&gt;buddy but in reverse, and the same rule applies: don&amp;#39;t mistake it for  &lt;br&gt;more than it is and it will work just fine for both of you.&lt;p&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-9019411977881402749?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/9019411977881402749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=9019411977881402749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/9019411977881402749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/9019411977881402749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/08/past-and-future.html' title='The past and the future'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-5854885521838885025</id><published>2008-08-25T02:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T06:12:34.538-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Love'/><title type='text'>The search for the perfect...house</title><content type='html'>With MD leaving me with one hell of a benchmark to emulate, I'm left&lt;br /&gt;to ponder what I will 'blog' about.&lt;p&gt;Talking to Deb today I decided it best to start from today, with MD&lt;br /&gt;having captured at least some of the past.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so my first topic open for discussion, and ironically one quite&lt;br /&gt;similar to MD:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At dinner on Friday night with a close friend, his current house guest&lt;br /&gt;of two weeks was telling us about her move from Sydney and, more&lt;br /&gt;pertinent to this story, her failed attempts at finding a place to&lt;br /&gt;settle in Melbourne. Looking online, she had had very little luck: a&lt;br /&gt;great house was spoiled by a weird housemate and vice versa. One&lt;br /&gt;particular woman had a bird that sat on her shoulder. It was however&lt;br /&gt;one particular response to her ad caught her attention. In his late&lt;br /&gt;thirties, he owned a penthouse in a bayside suburb and worked as an&lt;br /&gt;airline pilot. On paper he was the ideal catch, even as a housemate he&lt;br /&gt;would be ideal in his prolonged absence!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And so we began to talk about where the line exists between finding a&lt;br /&gt;house and finding a husband. Given the rigorous questionnaire that&lt;br /&gt;this girl had filled out, the online matching service had matched her&lt;br /&gt;with potential housemates with remarkable accuracy. Was this the&lt;br /&gt;perfect dating service? Can love follow if you have already sorted out&lt;br /&gt;whether the toilet seat is up or down? After all, living together is&lt;br /&gt;potentially the hardest hurdle to overcome. Maybe it's advice the&lt;br /&gt;single should heed, get off RSVP  and get on &lt;a href="http://realestate.com/"&gt;realestate.com&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-5854885521838885025?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/5854885521838885025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=5854885521838885025' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/5854885521838885025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/5854885521838885025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/08/with-md-leaving-me-with-one-hell-of.html' title='The search for the perfect...house'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7359313352024760133.post-3359333321387659086</id><published>2008-08-24T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T20:59:47.768-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miss Diarist'/><title type='text'>Number One</title><content type='html'>So a fellow blogger suggested that I was giving her so much material in her own blog that there had been calls for me to start my own...weird, given the kind of stories I often have seem miles apart from the kind of people I thought would read her blog. And yet here I am, starting my own blog at her prompting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thanks Miss Diarist...hopefully I provide your loyal readers (can you call them fans on a blog I wonder) with plenty of amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7359313352024760133-3359333321387659086?l=islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/feeds/3359333321387659086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7359313352024760133&amp;postID=3359333321387659086' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3359333321387659086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7359313352024760133/posts/default/3359333321387659086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://islifethatinteresting.blogspot.com/2008/08/number-one.html' title='Number One'/><author><name>Al</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09627748323104482811</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
