The thief who stole my heart ..

How lovely! I have been invited to a wedding. The ‘bride’ is exactly half my age and she is a little like me – 25 years ago. She refers to me as her Fairy Godmother. Though I am fairly certain that to be a good Godmother you must renounce sin. Seeing as how we fell in love over a showgirl red lipstick, with just a hint of our best bits – well - out there – I’m not certain anyone would buy that. She is me – 25 years ago - except for one thing. Very early in life she knew what she wanted. Personally and professionally. And she gives 200%. Unlike me, she was not a late bloomer. And for this I have immense admiration for her. 

 

We don't see each other a great deal these days but when I get a text message with the opening line ‘Hello beautiful’ well what old Fairy Godmother could not love this kid.

A few weeks back on The Project they were discussing the 5 best inventions of the short term past. I can’t actually remember how short term but there was no-one more happier than I when the Hair Straightener came in at Number 5! I was jumping around the lounge room and cheering. Just like when Dunaden was finally declared the winner of the Cup two years back after a heart stopping and agonising wait.

But one of the first four inventions was text messaging. And on this I wholeheartedly agree. I am not a mad text messager. But both at work and at play it has its place.

My boss, the Principal and I communicate via text all the time regarding pressing matters. In fact just an hour ago I sent her a text message with the picture of the Coach handbag I most desperately need for her to buy me at the knockoff joint in the Silk Markets in China! Oh I so hope her global roaming is working because I have not had a response as yet and I am slightly worried I forgot to call Telstra on Friday!

 

Last year I wrote about goodbyes.  After only 2 months at my new school my boss the Principal (the one currently looking for Coach handbags in China) tendered her resignation – with a 5 term notice period. I referred to it then as ‘the long kiss goodbye’ and boy oh boy it sure has been. This week I met my new boss, the new Principal, due to hit the streets in January. And she’s just lovely. And even lovelier is that her daughter, like myself, enjoys keeping her mind busy studying the form – the horse form that is. Phew. Because I was a little bit worried that my in-house betting syndicate might all have to go to hell in a handbag. A Coach handbag. But Friday lunch time with the highlighter and the Form Guide seems to appear ‘safely held’ for now.

The ‘long kiss good bye’ is almost over. It was a busy week last week. Torn between two lovers.

That was certainly interesting. Managing anxieties – not least my own. Thank God the Cup is almost upon us. On Thursday night 13 of my colleagues, myself, and our new Principal and her husband dined out. Having organised this small but excruciatingly important function, I was desperate that my first gig was hailed a success. Being loyal to the last minute I was seated next to my current Principal directly across from the new girl. I reminded Ms Now that she was $10 in arrears in the syndicate. She handed me a tenner which I placed in the beautiful silver bread bowl – now empty. The wife of a new colleague whom I had never met before, seated on the left of me asked me what it was for? So I told her I was collecting money for the Cup. A big trifecta. Well – she turned to her husband and demanded $20. In the bowl it went. I then asked them to continue passing the bowl around the table. And around the table it went. I could barely keep from spitting out my $200 a bottle glass of French champagne I was laughing so hard. Because I wasn’t really collecting for any big trifecta. But decorum prevailed. And when the bowl made its way back to me with $180 in total there was no-one more shocked than I!

It was without doubt the most successful team building exercise I have ever facilitated! But more than that, Ms Future now knows she can rely on me to get the job done…creatively. It was the best ice breaker ever. And then all chat turned to racing. It is Spring in Melbourne after all and yes it has just started raining.

The Bride and I share many girly loves, but I think in the number 1 barrier would be all things hair. While I am still excitedly jumping around Dunaden style that the hair straightener (which curls) made the top 5 list – there is a new kid on the block. And I just can’t find the words. Just imagine you are eating a very long piece of spaghetti – you know – just sucking it up like when you were a kid (or last night) – and then imagine spitting it out and it is a perfect long sausage curl. You don’t believe me do you? I would never kid you about anything hair. It is too much fun. I can’t stop playing with it. It’s called a Rusk. Google it now.

 

Thanks to the Cup we have four days off to play dress up. And I need it. Because my hand is very tired. From curling my hair and from working on my spreadsheet. The Cup spreadsheet. It’s been a torrid few weeks out there on the track. Clearly the favourites didn’t receive a text message advising them that they were the favourites. My Carpal Tunnel is also playing up. I am not really sure if I have Carpal Tunnel but my Mum says I do so I must. She said my Nanna had it. My Nanna also had hyperthyroidism just like me. So my Mum says it’s a sign. And if she says it’s a sign then it must be.  

My Nanna and Grandad were married for 62 years before they passed away within a few weeks of each other. They didn’t use text messages to communicate. Of course they couldn’t. They just knew each other. They were connected in mind. Which connected them in love. The last time I saw my Grandad alive he was wandering around outside the care facility they both spent their last year in. I said to him, ‘let’s go inside and find Nanna’. When we got inside we were confronted with an array of many grey haired elderly women sitting in chairs. He said to me ‘which one is she?’ And I said ‘you’ll know when she kisses the top of your head Grandad’. My Nanna often, when moving past my Grandad if he was sitting down, leant down and kissed the top of his head and then just moved on. It brings a tear to my eye when I think about it. It was how they communicated. Nanna was almost bedridden for the four weeks in between when Grandad died and when she followed. She didn’t say much in that time. I think she just closed her eyes - she was already with him.

 

I can hardly wait for the wedding. It is in December. An opportunity for many of us to be together on the wonderful trail to Christmas ..

But November here we are. I  always look for a sign. In every race I look for a sign. I pretend to be extremely superstitious – but in truth I’m not. It’s all just a little fun! Last year I thought Mount Athos was the sign. Even though - I kid you not there was a Green Moon two weeks prior to the race which I completely dismissed! And last night I did ‘sea’ a moon so maybe there’s a sign…but all morning I have been contemplating the draw.  I have narrowed down my choices .. so .. here we go.

Sea Moon (though I’m edgy about Green Moon)

Dear Demi – because my sweetest mate thinks GI Jane is a stupid movie and I just love it and we have recently had a robust discussion re this subject and I need to win this argument! So there ..

Fiorente – just because ..

Oh Oh Oh! I just received a text message from China! Bag in hand! It's a true sign. Well done Annie. Don't ever lose hope that the longest shot can come in.

 

But 'seriously' in the last few minutes it has come to me.
How could I have almost missed this beautiful sign.
Back on February 14^th I wrote about my love of the heart.
And Pink does feature occasionally in my life in many ways..

‘Right from the start you were a thief who stole my heart and I your willing victim’ Pink

 

Voleuse De Coeurs - Number 17 – It’s my sign.