Tag Archives: Life Experiences

Fits Me To A Tee.

15 May

It’s time to come clean on the fact that I actually have another clothing addiction, apart from scarves.

I am addicted to t-shirts.  This realisation came rather suddenly when I received surprise gifts of t-shirts from two different friends in the same week.  One lovely friend who had been in London sent me a shirt from Speedy’s Cafe.  I will now pause to allow the Sherlock fans to squeak with jealousy.  The other wonderful friend sent me two NCIS related t-shirts.

It made me sit and look closely at my t-shirt collection, which made me realise one thing.  All of my t-shirts have meanings and associations for me.

My friends (and family) know my loves, and encourage them with t-shirts.  This is one of the reason I love my peeps so much.  They know me, accept my foibles, and damn well enable them. 

When I looked at the t-shirts I have bought for myself, I came to the conclusion that during the summer months I am literally wearing my life experiences on my chest.  The t-shirts I have bought for myself are from places I have visited, or theatrical productions I have been too, TV shows I love etc.

I don’t wear all my shirts at once.  I have about a dozen or fifteen I wear and keep the others spare to take out when one of the ones I am wearing carks it. 

Going through my collection I noticed that I have enough t-shirts from Orange County, California to keep me going for the next ten years.  Well, the t-shirt shop at Huntington Beach was having a sale!  And who can resist a t-shirt with a picture of a kitten in a deckchair with the legend “Life’s A Beach”?  Well, not me, anyway.

Also in my to-be-worn pile is a tee from an indoor rock climbing venue in Auckland, New Zealand.  My one and only attempt at rock climbing.  It was fun.  And I will remember it every time I wear the shirt.

Another shirt is from the Australian National Maritime Museum in Sydney.  A reminder of another wonderful afternoon spent with a fantastic friend.  Oh the fun we had exploring the ships.

A look back at photo albums from my trip to the UK in 1996 show that even then I was proudly wearing my life experiences on my chest.  A t-shirt from a Billy Connolly show, one from a David Strassman one, another from a Star Trek convention.  Memories, memories, memories.  And yes, I brought back wonderful t-shirts from the UK too.

I know some people whine about t-shirts like this being free advertising for the companies and/or places involved.  I don’t care.  To me these shirts are another way of recording my life experiences.

Been there; Bought the t-shirt.  Lots of t-shirts.

Rules and Regrets

25 Apr

Melbourne’s public transport strikes again!  This morning two young university kids were discussing dating and something they referred to as “The Third Date Rule”.  This was a new one on me, so on my arrival at work I promptly googled.

Apparently this is a dating rule that says no sex before the third date.  Excuse me?  Why the third date?  Why the rule in the first place?  Dating involves emotions, and often, raging hormones.  Rules and hormones tend not to bond very well.

Admittedly I have been quite some time out of the dating scene.  When I was dating there didn’t actually appear to be any rules.  Though I did have my own.  Mostly along the lines of “If you grab my boobs, I will break your wrists.”  Most New Zealand males are not subtle.  Personal rules like this are necessary for a smooth exchange of pleasantries.

The reason I have problems with things like the Third Date Rule is that they are obviously created by people who have no conception of what it is like to have your world torn apart.  In their little minds everything trots from point to point and will always do so.

When I was 15 my world was torn apart.  I’d had a normal New Zealand childhood and adolescence.  Not a normal teenager…it’s hard to be rebellious when your dad is a bit of a rebel himself and frankly encourages you to bend the rules.  And this is where my world collapsed.  My dad was ill and rushed to hospital.  My world began to break apart when the doctor told us “We can fix the respiratory infection, but the cancer will take him by Christmas.”  Turned out my father had untreatable prostate cancer and hadn’t told us, because he didn’t want to worry us.  Never did get a chance to tell my father just what I thought of THAT.  But knowing my old man, he probably knew.

Exactly one week after the doctor spoke to us, my father died, and the breaking apart of my life was complete.  My world and I were both shattered.

My father had taught me many things in that 15 years.  The one that sticks the most firmly to the walls of my mind palace is “Regret the things you have done, not the things you haven’t done.  The saddest words are ‘I wish I had done that.’ ”  I regret many things about my father.  Not spending as much time with him as I could have.  But mostly not telling him I loved him as much as I wish I had.

If the right man comes along, why should I worry about the artificially constructed rules of dating that tell me that I can’t take this man to my bed before our third date?  What if he dies between the second and the third date? 

I refuse to be one of those people who spend their life saying “I wish I had…”  When the world offers me opportunities, I grab them with both hands.

The Romans had a phrase – Carpe Diem – Seize the Day.  I get out there and seize the day, the opportunities, and, if I’m lucky, a gorgeous man.  You should do the same.  Life is to be lived to the fullest.

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