Out of the woods

Ropeable she awoke, spitting like a nail gun gone rogue. She hated anger vehemently and by god she fucken hated hate. That ironic thought bringing with it a fresh wave of repulsion, riding her stomach lining fast and hard like a fix of sweet and dirty drugs.

That goddamned book had started this. Who knew reading another's words on a page were possible of wreaking such bloody havoc, seeding the subconscious with this insuppressible vile. The thought both petrified and impressed her by equal measure.

A truckload of firewood was never carted and stacked as proficiently as that morning, head and body ravaging violently against a grasped-together list of extensive crimes and injustices, collated in panic. Tears, meet fuming eruption. An unsavoury pity party.

How she detested this mercenary wrath, choking on it, yet indulging it still. A deep coal seam breaking through to light, a solidifying energy source fighting for a look in. How dare it? She so thought this thing had already been split wide open, chipped out and ordered be gone.

The woodshed was a work of art, no question. Anger washed away with the rains in a paper boat, set free to navigate other shores. Contrary to popular belief, Custer’s last stand wasn’t with Sioux Indians - but inside a girl and a book and an unsuspecting wood pile on some Nelson street.

Know-it-all

Came across this journal in a bookshop yesterday. And had to laugh 'cos sometimes I am just this kind of fuck wit, which is useful to remember :)

Thank you for your patronage

"Thank you for contacting the Prince Charming hotline, your call is very important to us. You are currently number 18,569,874 in our priority queue and we will attend to you as soon as an operator becomes available. We appreciate your patience... please continue to hold.
 

No time to wait on the line for the next 30,000 years just now? You can find answers to our most common queries on our website at www.suckitup.com, which many people just like you have found extremely useful. We especially urge you to visit our ‘Manipulative Strategies’ page, which covers basic techniques proven to enhance your chances of success, such as: Flailing For Maximum Impact; Mind Games, Head Fucking, Power Plays & Other Methods of Emotional Blackmail; Protecting Your Financial Investment; A How-To Guide To The Effective Ultimatum; Chucking A Baby At It; Using Others As Pawns To Get What You Want; Entrapment and, of course, that all-time popular favourite for those that simply can't be bothered - Taking The Path Of Least Resistance.
 

Telling of the blunt truth is definitely not recommended; it risks causing offence - or worse - never getting an opportunity to make it to third base ever again. Instead, subtle hints and half-truths shedding you in a better light are considered best practice to ensure the covering of all eventualities and, technically, are quite different from outright fibs. This way you are exonerated from any resulting falling debris. It is also worth noting that we strongly advocate the use of avoidance tactics (information on the latter can be found in the aforementioned Path Of Least Resistance sub-section).
 

Sleeping with the myriad of rich, but geriatric and creepy married men that are always trying to put their leery hands all over you and who live in hope that, if they get you drunk enough you will go for it, is one form of potential validation you might find helpful. Lie back, think of England, and focus on all the money and trinkets and stuff. Failing that, looking up an ex that you don't actually want but who you know never really got over you, stealing someone else’s man or moving onto your ex’s mates are some other particularly popular options.
 

Alternative desperate measure therapies include dancing on pub tables knickerless whilst drinking yourself into a stupor, taking up a chemical addiction, throwing yourself into your work, jumping off a cliff, writing rubber cheques from a remaining joint account, fine-tuning your personal radar frequency, trekking to Cambodia to dig irrigation channels, lining your walls with self-help books and listening to Bob Dylan incessantly just for his uplifting factor.

Naturally, you are officially prohibited in any public place from smiling, talking to or even acknowledging the existence of any members of the opposite sex who are already ensnared. This just makes everybody feel uncomfortable and often leads to serious conditions of jealously, dark looks, hissy-fits, things people would rather not think about, knives in the back and general all round ugliness. You are, after all, directly responsible for the insecurities of every other person in the priority queue, not to mention the planet. In fact, it is preferable if at all possible, that you either leave town or turn lesbian.
 

Lastly, we admire and encourage your ongoing cynicism; this will get you far. If you wish to request a call back from a member of our staff - please lie down, remove your bra, leave the keys in the letterbox and we will be with you shortly."

Tyre kickers

Man you people are boring! I have no idea why you read this blog, but I know that you do because I see you. But you’re so quiet all the time. Not a squeak out of you.

I used to pay my brother to leave anonymous comments just so I could look like I was popular. But he’s in love now and obviously has other priorities.

Ofcourse I could leave anonymous comments myself, but that would seem too weird even for me and not a little narcissistic.

What if I told you I was coming out of the closet? Would that be enough to stir a reaction?

A wet fish in my back pocket

For most of my career I’ve been lucky enough to work with extremely motivated and committed individuals who are truly impassioned by what they do. It’s made maintaining enthusiasm and momentum easy and has suited my ‘roll-up-your-sleeves-and deliver‘ approach very well.

It’s also something I’ve very much taken for granted up until now. I’ve been naïve.

I’ve been asked a lot recently by different people my reasons for becoming involved in various things. More importantly, I’ve been asking myself the same questions so to be sure of my true motivations and commitment. And I’m learning the hard way to be certain of what drives others before throwing my hat in the ring and agreeing to things.

I’m losing count of how many meetings, workshops and communications I’ve had over the last couple of weeks where people have openly said something along the lines of “I’m a talker not a doer, don’t expect anything from me - but please will those willing to take on mountains of responsibility raise their hands”.

Who the hell hires these people? But at least you know where you stand. Worse are the ones that promise the world and deliver sweet FA. Who expect things to just happen around them without actively participating themselves. Who happily take credit for any progress which they had nothing to do with at all, yet loudly dish out criticism wherever they see fit.

Actions speak louder than words. Always.

I’m a typical Capricorn goat in many ways, in that I will steadfastly work towards a goal no matter how rocky and slow going the trail might be. But no one can achieve everything in isolation. We all have our obvious limitations and need inspiration, support and the insight of others’ experience at times.

I’m frustrated and finding it really difficult to resist whipping out the wet fish I keep in my back pocket especially for face slapping purposes. So get with the programme or just f*** off and get out of the way.

No more Mr Nice Guy

I am not a man eater, but sometimes I feel like one. My friends, and even my landlady, are ever more frequently pointing blokes in my direction that they think I should date. The last one was a bloke in a pub that asked my friend to introduce us, so she brings him up to the dance floor and leaves him there with me. I know they mean well, but what am I supposed to do with that?

I’m a polite person (ie. I hadn’t had much to drink) so I talk to him a bit before I go back to the dance floor. He is ‘nice’ enough but doesn’t really pique my interest in any way other than a passing conversation. But when he asks for my number I stupidly give it to him. Why? For no better reason than because I’m pathetic and I feel really rude saying “No, I just can’t be bothered”.

He texts me the next day (and a mental note to any prospective future suitors, I’d be much more impressed if you fronted up and actually phoned me rather than sending a cop-out text). Even when I tell him I actually preferred the singer in the band the night before, he still wants to take me out on a date. So (like a stark raving mad lunatic) I agree to go. I don’t know why I agree to go. Except that I feel like sometimes maybe I’m too judgemental when it comes to blokes and I should give it a chance to get to know him.

The result of the date is that he’s a nice guy. A nice guy like all the other nice guys I’ve dated over the last 2 or so years. A nice guy in that he’s perfectly ok (for someone else) but he doesn’t make me laugh, or think overly hard, or anything else in particular. He’s just, well… nice. (No offence intended to any exes that might be reading this!)

I realise this sounds harsh and where do I get off even complaining about it. But blokes always tell me that they know within 30 seconds of meeting a girl whether there’s potential there or not - based on looks alone. I don’t even care about looks, I honestly couldn’t give a rats. But there has to be a little inkling of something (anything) and simply being nice just doesn’t cut it for me. Even if I dated an axe wielding maniac at least it would be memorable.

So I’m officially over dating. Over it. Maybe this is the beginning of the road to being one of those eccentric ladies with many cats, but I don’t care. Maybe I will become one of those bitter and twisted witches through lack of good meaningful shagging. So be it. Maybe I deserve everything I get, given my ridiculous attitude. But please, no more Mr Nice Guy or I WILL SCREAM!

Or am I just a B****? I'm coming around to accepting this possibility should the hat fit.

(PS. Nice AND interesting will do just fine though!)

Help save the Cable Bay Rifle Range

You may have heard that the Cable Bay Rifle Range & Shooting Adventures here in the Nelson district is trying to be closed down by some new neighbours that are moving into the area.

Please help us save the rifle range by signing the online petition to be presented to the Environmental Court. It should never have even got this far!

Read the full story and please sign the petition at http://cablebay.nelson.co.nz/petition

Find a farmer a wife

The Australian Women’s Weekly is running a ‘Find a Farmer a Wife’ campaign here in NZ at the moment, so naturally I felt obliged to scan what was on offer. It was worth the fiver outlay for the entertainment value (I laughed a lot!) and as AWW put it, with 22 men of the land looking for love, what was I waiting for?

Carsten, 44, of King Country has centrefold status. He sounds relatively sane, likes horses and isn't too hard on the eye. But no, he lives too far away.

Michael, 44, Christchurch, is slightly closer to home and has horses too. Let me see… errr, perhaps not… Michael is looking for someone with “homemaking skills” (not really my strong point) and thinks the one thing a woman can do better than a man is “bringing up children”.

Move over Michael, enter David, 33, Southland. At least it’s still the same island and we’re much closer in ages. Hmmm, actually I don’t think so... David still lives with his mother and says the most romatic thing he’s ever done is “taken someone out for a nice dinner”.

Oh! A moment of excitement when I saw a local bloke pictured on his 4 wheeler motorbike alongside his faithful black & white hound. Neil, 43, lives practically just up the road in Takaka (a very nice spot). Only I think he might be related to Michael because Neil too thinks women are good for looking after children. Buying flowers is the most romantic thing he’s ever done. For FU*K’s sake guys, are we still living in the 70s, or is it a case of too much effluent in your water supply?

Scott, 27, Bay of Plenty is the pick of the bunch. He loves rural life but also likes to venture into town. He has energy, makes the most of every opportunity and there’s lots of laughter in his life. Oh yeah, and he’s hot! He reckons women can do most things better than men (if you actually want to get things finished) and has plenty of ideas when it comes to romance. You’re a winner in my book Scott – and even your dog is cute.

So I don’t think I’ll be writing to any of them, but good on them for having the guts to put themselves out there (and be open to my ridicule & scrutiny – sorry guys!)

Familiarity breeds contempt?

I’ve been feeling a little disillusioned of late. Disappointed at how mucked up people are. This whole happy families thing… I’m not convinced about it eh.

Observations this past week or so at how much people emotionally hurt one another, whether intentionally or not. Projecting blame and dishing out punishment without perhaps really taking into account what part the self may have contributed to whatever less than ideal scenario is playing out.

I’m intrigued (appalled?) at how much ego, insecurity and the need for control seems to get in the way and f**** things up between folk though. It’s probably not anyone’s fault. But equally, is it love?

Perhaps I’m just getting old and cynical. And unrealistic. Not to mention so out of practice I have no right whatsoever to comment! But you know what? I’m actually okay with that. I’m over lust and infatuation; it’s all pretty meaningless at the end of the day. I’d rather grow something.

Then you catch sight of a really old couple somewhere acting like in-love teenagers and you can’t help but smile and feel warm inside :)

Please stop witching & moaning at me

Okay, so I suspect that this wee rant could offend some people and lose me a few readers… but I don’t care cos you lot never leave me any comments anyway. Blogs are supposed to be interactive you know!

I’m not an overly sympathetic person. I mean, I’m supportive of people – if something bad has happened or if someone needs help or encouragement – hey, I’m there. I do take a fairly practical approach to most things though, and if you wanted someone to sit beside you for hours clucking and wiping your brow… well that someone probably isn’t me. If the tables were turned, I’d rather you cracked jokes to try and laugh me out of my misery than sat their sobbing with me in sympathy.

So it probably won’t surprise you to know that sometimes… just sometimes… the dark witch inside me really has to hold herself back from dishing out a few brash face slaps to get some people to tune into reality! …Oops, I shouldn’t have said that out loud should I?

I can be patient, but I find it very difficult past a certain point. I lose respect pretty quickly for people that repetitively whinge, moan or generally feel sorry for themselves without having the guts or motivation to do anything about it. There are opportunities for everyone everywhere; you just have to want to see them.

The following expressions have all been done-to-death and yet uncannily still hold true:

1. The world does not owe you any favours. AKA: quit blaming everyone else.
2. Shit happens to everyone. Sometimes small shit, sometimes big nasty shit. Recognise it, but don't live your whole life using it as an excuse for who you choose to be now.
3. Actions speak louder than words. Always.
4. You cannot control others' actions, but you do have control over your own.
5. It is better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all. AKA: what are you so afraid of and is it really that bad?
6. If people do not know you for who you really are, they cannot possibly love you. AKA: stop faking it.
7. You are responsible for your own life and happiness. AKA: Live life like you mean it.

Right, I’m going to go now before somebody points out that I still haven’t stopped smoking or lost those extra pounds… and if anyone makes any comments about bloody Nelson hippies …well, just watch out :P

How Predictable

I am Thea. Thea I am. I cackle often. In truth probably sometimes too much. A bit OTT, a bit gobby like, but sometimes I just can't help it, eh. Like just the other day I was out for a meal with these people I don’t know very well (like at all) and during dinner conversation I was in some state of ridiculous uncontrollable laughter about something I had in my mind and was trying to blurt out, when instead out of my open mouth splurted not words but the rice I was trying to consume at the time. I was totally unable to cease the hysterical convulsions my body was in and had to seriously take a few moments to compose myself before I could even finish my sentence. I’m sure they thought I was barking, but oh well shit happens and start as you mean to go on I suppose.

So anyway, the other day was Friday 13th (my favourite days of the year). A day witch for me started out really really badly – when my car basically blew itself up on the way to work and I tried unsuccessfully to hide my exasperated girlie tears behind my sunnies from the roadside assistance man – turned into a pretty good day thanks to my amazing Midas touch and magical powers of positivity. Then at the end of the day I was checking my emails to be told that I had won an online tarot reading. Great I thought, I’m pretty open minded to the powers of those gifted in the alternative arts. I dutifully sent off my 3 questions that would be answered and waited. Suffice to say the answers I received, although probably quite correct, did little to convince me of this person's extraordinary powers of the tarot. In short, here are my questions and the answers I received:

QUESTION: I’ve moved to a new town and miss having good mates around me. Will I make some good genuine friends very soon?
ANSWER: Join a club.

QUESTION: I’ve recently started my own business, will it be successful?
ANSWER: Be prepared to work hard and visualize it being successful.

QUESTION: I’m very fussy and thus been single for ages. When will I meet someone awesome?
ANSWER: You should be settled within the next 2-3 years.

Now I don’t expect, or even want, to be told what my future is down to the enth degree, but any fool could give the kind of vague responses I received back. To be honest I give myself better advice. So no, I will not pay $69.95 to receive a more comprehensive reading! Instead I now have my own set of tarot cards and until such time as I get bored of it I will endeavour to provide any Witches Cackle readers with my own personal style of tarot reading for free (and obviously with a not to be taken too seriously disclaimer). Send me your 3 questions via making a comment on this blog and I will put a post up with what the cards tell me. I do not guarantee anything except to make you feel good by smiling :)

Yrs, Thea the good witch.