There's an old saying that goes "men are like diamonds... they should be big, cut and wrapped around your finger".
When we shop for a rock; as our engagement ring, that special pair of earrings you promised yourself when you won that promotion, or just a little bit of bling; we look for the 4 C's: carats, clarity, colour and cut. The bigger, the more brilliant, the better.
A good friend of mine has recently found herself slipping longingly, deliciously headfirst into a giddying and intoxicating relationship. While I'm green with envy, remembering those butterflies ravishing their jack hammers in your stomach and the long, intense kisses that last forever, her slide into relationship bliss got me thinking that solid relationships, like flawless diamonds, are hard to find. Hard, but not impossible.
You see, these elusive good relationships, like perfect diamonds, also need to pass the 4 C's test: chemistry, communication, compromise, and committment. The bigger and more brilliant these factors are, the better the craftsmanship, the better your relationship.
It is well known that all else being equal, the value of a diamond increases exponentially in relation to carat weight, since larger diamonds are both rarer and more desirable for use as gemstones. Same as with a new relationship- that magnetism, the je ne sais quoi that exists, is the first, and most vital ingredient to a special relationship- it's gotta have chemistry. And that chemistry has gotta be strong. All else being equal, he could be the most perfect man on paper, but if that element is missing, the relationship flame, will never combust.
Clarity, when assessing a diamond, is a measure of internal defects of a diamond which are called inclusions. These may be crystals of a foreign material or another diamond crystal, or structural imperfections such as tiny cracks that can appear whitish or cloudy. The number, size, color, relative location, orientation, and visibility of inclusions can all affect the relative clarity of a diamond. Conversely, good communication, quality communication in a relationship can help prevent these cracks from forming and can work miracles to repair them when the fissures appear. Good and effective communication involves talking and listening, and is your gauge of the internal defects that appear at times in your relationship. Therefore, communication and the ability to empathise and understand your partner's position can affect the relative clarity or direction of your relationship.
A chemically pure and structurally perfect diamond is perfectly transparent with no hue, or color. However, in reality, just like any relationship, almost no gem-sized natural diamonds are absolutely perfect. The color of a diamond may be affected by chemical impurities and/or structural defects in the crystal lattice. Depending on the hue and intensity of a diamond's coloration, a diamond's color can either detract from or enhance its value. Similiarly, compromise, that push and pull that we all face and struggle with at times, may be affected by impurities. The impurities that come when we feel we have compromised ourselves too much, or our partner, not enough. If a perfect diamond doesn't exist, then it's important to remember that neither does the perfect relationship. All relationships struggle to maintain that balance between too much and too little.
Diamond cutting is the art and science of creating a gem-quality diamond out of mined rough. The cut of a diamond describes the manner in which a diamond has been shaped and polished from its beginning form as a rough stone to its final gem proportions. The cut of a diamond defines the quality of workmanship. The cut of a diamond then, is the committment to a relationship and the committment within a relationship; the 4th C. Committment is the determined and constant toiling, the fine balance and blend of art and science. It is the deal sealer, the forsaking of all others. The illustration of the quality of the workmanship.
So, I guess we can all live in hope of finding our diamond in the rough and carving from it, a perfect flawless gem. Remembering all the while that it takes the fine blend of chemistry, communication, compromise, and committment.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
She's cut and run!
I don't quite know how to put this. And I definitely don't quite know how to cope. For the first time in my life, I'm experiencing some form of separation anxiety. Quiet heart palpitations... a choking in the throat which leads to excess swallowing... a slight tension that has settled around my neck and shoulders... and a nervous look has appeared on my face as if I don't quite know how to face the future and I'm scared of what's around the corner.
Yes, that's correct. My hair dresser is leaving. The person who has lovingly coiffed, styled, washed and nourished my locks for close to the past three years, has taken a post overseas to further her career. Hello? What about me! (It isn't fair, I've had enough now I want my share...).
You know, I've had others in the past, sure, but, for once, this is the one person who truly gets me. And my hair. And I don't know where I go from here- I don't know who I can turn to.
A good hairdresser makes the world of difference- they are someone you trust, someone who greets you by name, compliments you on your appearance (even if you look and feel disgusting). They rub their hands through your hair, even when you know you've put off washing it those past few days, stretching it out until the day you get it cut. They know when to talk, when to stay quiet, when you need that extra 2 minutes of head massage, they know just how many foils to put in without making you look like a zebra, or worse, a washed out clone. My hairdresser was all of that.
And I should know, I've had my fair share of bad ones. When I was younger, and poorer (OK, a uni student living in a share house), I went to a budget hairdresser for a trim. You know, the kind of place where they don't even bother to wash your hair, they just spray some water on it from a squirty bottle. Ugh, it makes me shudder to think about it. Anyway, the charming hairdresser who tended my locks that day, picked up the ends of them, held them out as if it were a plagued rat, and sniffed "oh my god, your hair is so dry, I'm not even going to go there". And I thought, "love, that's exactly why you're working in a place that charges $10 for a hair cut".!
So, an era of my life is over, and I'm sure I'll have to go through much pain again, before I find another keeper. Because that's what good hairdressers are; like good men, they're hard to find. And once you do, you hang on to 'em and never let 'em go!
Yes, that's correct. My hair dresser is leaving. The person who has lovingly coiffed, styled, washed and nourished my locks for close to the past three years, has taken a post overseas to further her career. Hello? What about me! (It isn't fair, I've had enough now I want my share...).
You know, I've had others in the past, sure, but, for once, this is the one person who truly gets me. And my hair. And I don't know where I go from here- I don't know who I can turn to.
A good hairdresser makes the world of difference- they are someone you trust, someone who greets you by name, compliments you on your appearance (even if you look and feel disgusting). They rub their hands through your hair, even when you know you've put off washing it those past few days, stretching it out until the day you get it cut. They know when to talk, when to stay quiet, when you need that extra 2 minutes of head massage, they know just how many foils to put in without making you look like a zebra, or worse, a washed out clone. My hairdresser was all of that.
And I should know, I've had my fair share of bad ones. When I was younger, and poorer (OK, a uni student living in a share house), I went to a budget hairdresser for a trim. You know, the kind of place where they don't even bother to wash your hair, they just spray some water on it from a squirty bottle. Ugh, it makes me shudder to think about it. Anyway, the charming hairdresser who tended my locks that day, picked up the ends of them, held them out as if it were a plagued rat, and sniffed "oh my god, your hair is so dry, I'm not even going to go there". And I thought, "love, that's exactly why you're working in a place that charges $10 for a hair cut".!
So, an era of my life is over, and I'm sure I'll have to go through much pain again, before I find another keeper. Because that's what good hairdressers are; like good men, they're hard to find. And once you do, you hang on to 'em and never let 'em go!
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Cricket - Just Marvellous
So the sunny good times of summer have arrived and therein comes the ever delightful and astoundingly boring game that stops a nation (and incidentially stops my beloved), thats right Cricket. Personally I am all for the 'golden oldie' looks of Glenn McGrath, Stephen Fleming and Daniel Vettori but its the actual way that cricket seeps its way into my daily life to the point that my beloved is organising the time of dinner, social outings, and 'breaks' (a moment taken to visit the bathroom, refill the glass etc) around this pointless, dull and often very very time consuming game.
The Ashes appears to be a particuarly drawn out process when England and Australia slave away over a number of days all for the glory of the ashes which incidentially is named after a satirical obituary published in an English newspaper, The Sporting Times, in 1882 after the match at The Oval in which Australia beat England on an English ground for the first time. The obituary stated that English cricket had died, and the body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia. The English media then dubbed the next English tour to Australia (1882-83) as the quest to regain The Ashes.
Oh yes girls, fascinating stuff.
It gets better and better. Another delightful addition to my house this year was Boony and Botham http://www.boonanza.com.au/ who are two plastic figurines who have taken to proclaiming they would like some nachos at 3am in the morning and also the location of their thongs, warm beer, spanking, pies etc at other obscene times, at the moment these two have more pull than me in the house. Asking my beloved to come and assist with dinner, take the bins out usually cites a response of "I will do what boony says" ie. get me a beer that crickets about to start. Funny as (sarcasm alert).
So ladies - the question is posed, how do you cope with cricket?
The Ashes appears to be a particuarly drawn out process when England and Australia slave away over a number of days all for the glory of the ashes which incidentially is named after a satirical obituary published in an English newspaper, The Sporting Times, in 1882 after the match at The Oval in which Australia beat England on an English ground for the first time. The obituary stated that English cricket had died, and the body will be cremated and the ashes taken to Australia. The English media then dubbed the next English tour to Australia (1882-83) as the quest to regain The Ashes.
Oh yes girls, fascinating stuff.
It gets better and better. Another delightful addition to my house this year was Boony and Botham http://www.boonanza.com.au/ who are two plastic figurines who have taken to proclaiming they would like some nachos at 3am in the morning and also the location of their thongs, warm beer, spanking, pies etc at other obscene times, at the moment these two have more pull than me in the house. Asking my beloved to come and assist with dinner, take the bins out usually cites a response of "I will do what boony says" ie. get me a beer that crickets about to start. Funny as (sarcasm alert).
So ladies - the question is posed, how do you cope with cricket?
Friday, January 19, 2007
If I were an animal!
Having lots of time on my hands at the moment, I've been trawling the internet for random stuff. I stumbled across this video- the female praying mantis eating the head of her male partner just moments after mating. It got me thinking... what a wonderful talent! Or, how lucky she is. Think about the potential uses for this in the human world: bad lover... eat his head; he makes you sleep in the wet patch after doing the deed... eat his head; comes stumbling in drunk hours after he promised to be home... eat his head! I guess, the only problem is finding a suitable replacement. It gives a whole new meaning to the term "man eater" though, doesn't it!
What other weird and wonderful exploits (sexploits?!) do our animal friends get up to? Or, what can our male counterparts learn from them?
- The female pig has orgasms that last for half an hour (lucky thing)
- Male seahorses carry their young and give birth to them (all men can learn from that!)
- Hyenas live in a female dominated society. Female Hyenas "the most masculinized females in the animal kingdom ". They have very high levels of hormones that are usually found in males. (wouldn't the world be wonderful if it was run by women?!)
- Snakes can see through their eyelids (handy for when you're pretending to be asleep)!
- Spare a thought for mice though- their average time doing it is only 5 secs! (might give some men a run for their money though!)
- An oyster changes sex several times during its life (handy for when you're at a gig and the queue to the men's is non-existent whilst the ladies' queue is 20 m long)
Mind you, when I read that a shark can give birth to as many as 70 baby sharks in a litter, maybe we don't have it that bad after all?
What other weird and wonderful exploits (sexploits?!) do our animal friends get up to? Or, what can our male counterparts learn from them?
- The female pig has orgasms that last for half an hour (lucky thing)
- Male seahorses carry their young and give birth to them (all men can learn from that!)
- Hyenas live in a female dominated society. Female Hyenas "the most masculinized females in the animal kingdom ". They have very high levels of hormones that are usually found in males. (wouldn't the world be wonderful if it was run by women?!)
- Snakes can see through their eyelids (handy for when you're pretending to be asleep)!
- Spare a thought for mice though- their average time doing it is only 5 secs! (might give some men a run for their money though!)
- An oyster changes sex several times during its life (handy for when you're at a gig and the queue to the men's is non-existent whilst the ladies' queue is 20 m long)
Mind you, when I read that a shark can give birth to as many as 70 baby sharks in a litter, maybe we don't have it that bad after all?
Thursday, January 18, 2007
My six monthly tweak and peek!
Every 6 months or so, I get my breasts checked for various lumps, bumps and other general oddities. It's become a familiar routine that I call my grab and go, or my tweak and peek!
My other half, let's call him Maverick (!), fantasises that I'm being felt up in the doctor's surgery by some tall, Amazonian-like beauty; preferably a Scarlett Johansen lookalike. Or, more pertinently perhaps, he thinks it's a job for which he would be well qualified... provided he can choose his clients. No saggy ones please!
The reality however, is much different. There is nothing remotely exotic about a post meopausal woman, with more hair on her chin than a ZZ Top member, feeling your girls and smiling at the same time. Or perhaps there is- the old male doctor, way past his prime that lingers perhaps a tad too long, leers in at you and claims- "they're perfectly fine my dear". Oooh, it makes you shudder.
So, it got me thinking about all the indignities we suffer as women for the sake of our health, or worse, for the sake of beauty, and why we insist on holding steadfast to that mantra: "no pain, no gain".
Memorable medical moments of mine include a spur of the moment and oh so recent smear test ('cause that's how I get my jollies... !). I lay there, legs spread open and vulnerable to the world like an insect pinned to the board of an eager entomologist, while the doctor bumbled about muttering to himself "hmm, that's odd, I can't quite seem to find your cervix". I was asked to cough on demand, like a soldier enlisting for the army- apparently this would make my shy little cervix emerge from behind wherever she was hiding.
Needless to say, after coughing and bellowing like a bull on heat for a few minutes, my cervix appeared, coaxed out of the shadows, and I escaped relatively unharmed, yet with my dignity in tatters.
I have plenty more stories like this- being electrocuted by a sadistic nurse while the doctor played a particulalry violent game of Space Invaders inside me was especially memorable, and there are many more.
But, I invite you, my lady friends to share your thoughts on all things medical and beautiful and painful that we women brave. And yet we endure!
P.S: Oh- if you are worried about girl things- get it checked out straight away- see your gyno or Dr or check out these sites!
http://www.cancer.org.au/documents/Early_detection_breast_cancer_%20MAY04.pdf
http://www.cancer.org.au/default.cfm
My other half, let's call him Maverick (!), fantasises that I'm being felt up in the doctor's surgery by some tall, Amazonian-like beauty; preferably a Scarlett Johansen lookalike. Or, more pertinently perhaps, he thinks it's a job for which he would be well qualified... provided he can choose his clients. No saggy ones please!
The reality however, is much different. There is nothing remotely exotic about a post meopausal woman, with more hair on her chin than a ZZ Top member, feeling your girls and smiling at the same time. Or perhaps there is- the old male doctor, way past his prime that lingers perhaps a tad too long, leers in at you and claims- "they're perfectly fine my dear". Oooh, it makes you shudder.
So, it got me thinking about all the indignities we suffer as women for the sake of our health, or worse, for the sake of beauty, and why we insist on holding steadfast to that mantra: "no pain, no gain".
Memorable medical moments of mine include a spur of the moment and oh so recent smear test ('cause that's how I get my jollies... !). I lay there, legs spread open and vulnerable to the world like an insect pinned to the board of an eager entomologist, while the doctor bumbled about muttering to himself "hmm, that's odd, I can't quite seem to find your cervix". I was asked to cough on demand, like a soldier enlisting for the army- apparently this would make my shy little cervix emerge from behind wherever she was hiding.
Needless to say, after coughing and bellowing like a bull on heat for a few minutes, my cervix appeared, coaxed out of the shadows, and I escaped relatively unharmed, yet with my dignity in tatters.
I have plenty more stories like this- being electrocuted by a sadistic nurse while the doctor played a particulalry violent game of Space Invaders inside me was especially memorable, and there are many more.
But, I invite you, my lady friends to share your thoughts on all things medical and beautiful and painful that we women brave. And yet we endure!
P.S: Oh- if you are worried about girl things- get it checked out straight away- see your gyno or Dr or check out these sites!
http://www.cancer.org.au/documents/Early_detection_breast_cancer_%20MAY04.pdf
http://www.cancer.org.au/default.cfm
Twas the days after Christmas....
Is there anything more depressing than the month of January?
Detoxing is the topic of the day as we guiltly ignore the credit card statement from Christmas and theweeks worth of parties beforehand in which you ever so easily slid the card over the bar and had that extra cocktail or that last round of shooters, thinking deep down that January will be a cheap month "as I will be detoxing".
Detoxing can be for your body and the pain and abuse inflicted on it from over indulgence, detoxing can be for your bank account as you try to build it up to a point whereby the weekly shopping does not have to go onto the credit card as you attempt to string your last 50$ across 3 weeks, detoxing can be for your mind as you wake up in January and think "oh god, its 2007 and I really need a better job, more money or just something new and exciting" so you start 'beautifying' your CV in the hope that it will land you a fabulous new job with more pay and less work.
So how do we kick off detox for all parts of our bodies and minds? My approach has been to cut out wine, which worked until the first suggestion of a drink. Trying to not spend too much money worked until I walked into the "Further 50% off reduced prices" in CR this morning at 9am (Was late for work and figured an extra 15 mins would really not matter now). Finally I am working on the new and exciting job front by remembering to email my to CV to 'decorate' in my spare time.
In this difficult and emotional time of January - How do you cope with the new year and the ultimate question of "Detox" ?
Detoxing is the topic of the day as we guiltly ignore the credit card statement from Christmas and theweeks worth of parties beforehand in which you ever so easily slid the card over the bar and had that extra cocktail or that last round of shooters, thinking deep down that January will be a cheap month "as I will be detoxing".
Detoxing can be for your body and the pain and abuse inflicted on it from over indulgence, detoxing can be for your bank account as you try to build it up to a point whereby the weekly shopping does not have to go onto the credit card as you attempt to string your last 50$ across 3 weeks, detoxing can be for your mind as you wake up in January and think "oh god, its 2007 and I really need a better job, more money or just something new and exciting" so you start 'beautifying' your CV in the hope that it will land you a fabulous new job with more pay and less work.
So how do we kick off detox for all parts of our bodies and minds? My approach has been to cut out wine, which worked until the first suggestion of a drink. Trying to not spend too much money worked until I walked into the "Further 50% off reduced prices" in CR this morning at 9am (Was late for work and figured an extra 15 mins would really not matter now). Finally I am working on the new and exciting job front by remembering to email my to CV to 'decorate' in my spare time.
In this difficult and emotional time of January - How do you cope with the new year and the ultimate question of "Detox" ?
WELCOME!
Welcome and well done us!
Ok- So I'm feeling that pats on the back are somewhat deserved this time around- a drunken discussion and brilliant idea has actually come into fruition!
Welcome to the inaugural cheese and wine blog- a spot where two of us lovely ladies will wax lyrical about all things life has to offer us- more often than not, it will probably contain stories and anecdotes of all the unlovely things our other halves subject us to! But, will be a general life's rambling about them and us, about girlfriends and us, about shopping and us, and of course, cheese and wine and us! (It's all about us you see!).
The basic premise is that we tend to get too caught up in the little things and so many people get angsty and too bloody self reflective for my liking- girls, grab some cheese, skol some wine, and everything's fine! It's a simple idea, but it works for us.
So- enjoy, we welcome your comments and really hope to develop a nice little readership here on blogger.
Happy summer!
Ok- So I'm feeling that pats on the back are somewhat deserved this time around- a drunken discussion and brilliant idea has actually come into fruition!
Welcome to the inaugural cheese and wine blog- a spot where two of us lovely ladies will wax lyrical about all things life has to offer us- more often than not, it will probably contain stories and anecdotes of all the unlovely things our other halves subject us to! But, will be a general life's rambling about them and us, about girlfriends and us, about shopping and us, and of course, cheese and wine and us! (It's all about us you see!).
The basic premise is that we tend to get too caught up in the little things and so many people get angsty and too bloody self reflective for my liking- girls, grab some cheese, skol some wine, and everything's fine! It's a simple idea, but it works for us.
So- enjoy, we welcome your comments and really hope to develop a nice little readership here on blogger.
Happy summer!
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