It’s difinately not a case of taking time to draw teh story out in your mind… or mulling over the appropriate angle, or the best introduction – as this is blogging after all.

No no.. it’s more a case of being okay with what you’re going to write about. Getting over the Fucking Freaking Out Stage – so to speak – before you commit the story to print. (As i do believe there are those of you out there – who do print my writings out… frame them.. love them. As i do.) 

Of course, some posts require pictures to illustrate JUST how extensive the Fucking Freaking Out Stage was.

In this case my FFOS does very much require the pic. The above pic in fact.

For a good while last month or so – i thought i might be pregnant. I had the sensitive breasts… I wasn’t feeling great.. I MIGHT not have been taking the pill responsibly… the good old period was LATE. Just enough to make the mind go crazy.

Crazy it did go. The things I thought about. The situations I imagined. And of course, I in this week was - surrounded by babies and pregnant woman. Constantly.

And then a strange thing happened… I got past the FFOS. So much so - I was pretty okay with the idea. It wouldn’t be that bad. Teh parents would be supportive, the friends would be too. Life would go on. It would be great. I’d be a fucking fabulous mother.

And then – i took the test.

Not pregnant.

Honestly I have never really felt relief like that before. Yet, a small part of me… a very very very very small part of me was just a liiiitle bit sad!

So, i’ve done what any responsible 25 year old would do. I’ve put it on my life plan. Around the age of 28 i shall be having a child. If i meet someone to have this child with, this will be great.

But Being a realist, i am of course open to the option of purchasing high quality sperm and being a single parent.

“No, are you?”

“No, but I dreamt you were.”

Well that’s just dandy I tell her – I am of course flattered that you’re dreaming about me (at least SOMEONE is!), but being pregnant…well. I’d rather not.

Anyway

Of course she goes on to explain this dream… in this dream I say to you “But Princess, You don’t even have a boyfriend!” to which you then reply – “Come now Kay, you don’t have to have a boyfriend to fall pregnant, [even in other people’s dreams I’m pretty smart it seems] it was a one night stand with a guy I work with, you know – Greg”

At this point in real life – I’m dead quiet.

I work with a Greg. A really nice bloke, who I have never really spoken to Kay about.

Of course I make the fatal mistake of telling her all of this.

Well she’s now off to Yoga and burning incense while concentrating on the lotto. I’m a little freaked out about the fact he made me breakfast this morning.

*Names changed to protect the innocent

Why was it then Saturday night I found myself staring at an 18 year old and his crotch?

Out to dinner with the gay boys at a lovely greek place in Hyde Park – at the next table, right opposite me sat this kid. Who I would go as far as to say – might even be the most divine creature I’d ever seen. Sitting there, innocently with his parents and little girlfriend.

I could not keep my eyes off this.

And it did not help any that his crotch was RIGHT in my eye line. Well, not quite right. But if I shifted slightly, and gazed down. It was there.

How bizarre. It’s Monday and I still remember this boy. I feel like I should have gone over and asked which high school he attends.

It would make stalking the inter-school Rugby so much easier.