CBMused

Do you remember the time we were left alone, and the anticipation simmered into a bubbling volcano. The time I visited and stayed for lunch. The day the sun brightened every room of your large house. Do you remember the way your eyes spoke when no words were exchanged, the way I nearly tripped on my heels when your fingers trembled against my lips.

Do you remember the taste of that kiss and your hands gripping my waist like you were seizing a long-awaited moment before it escaped. Neither of us cared about anything. She was gone for a few hours and I was going to leave him anyway.

Do you remember the way I leaned into you, finally giving in to what we both dared not do, what we both long denied behind ordinary words and less than ordinary smiles. Do you remember how we ended up on the long thin couch, your weight supported by your elbows, your body in perfect alignment with mine.

Do you remember how good it was?

I don’t.

It never happened. Not in my imagination, or fantasy or reverie. We have never kissed. We have not touched. We have never let our eyes speak of passion. It is not a memory of mine or a secret fantasy. And yet… I am tortured with longing for a false memory when I awoke from this dream.

Quite often, I suffer from little bouts of envy, archive envy. I look at the blog’s sidebar and count the years backwards. Although they span a three year period, cbmused has only been in existence for eighteen months. While the past belongs in buried archives, I must acknowledge it with more than a passing nod or a wink.

And I will.

This post marks a major and personal milestone – the one thousandth post I have written on a public blog.

Once upon a time, before a slippery fairy tale was recounted, the sea breeze whispered like a gentle caress and grains of sand gathered to form a few letters. Letters became words, phrases gave life to sentences and blog posts were born.

That was way too many moons ago.

A different time. A different place. A different mindset.

A lifetime ago. Five and a half years ago.

Looking ahead, I see that the future of cbmused is undecided. I may continue in the same vein. I may post intermittently. I may reinvent it in another form. Or I may soon retire. For the time being, I will draw a line in the sand then take a leaf out of the open book  and let the ocean breeze guide me forward.

But today, I raise a toast to the power of the written word:
To One Thousand Martinis in the Sand.

If you go looking for a greeting card, you’re bombarded with dizzying alleys offering a vast array of choice, but a quick peruse reveals that choosing a card raises the stereotypical ugly head.

Clearly political correctness has not yet hit the likes of Hall-Makers. Age birthdays up to 10 are about the kiddie merchandise du jour. Teen cards are boring, until you hit 18, as if it means anything these days, and 21, where you are given a key. To what, may I ask. Boyfriends get sexy girl pictures and promised of bjs. Girlfriends get shoes and pretty dresses. Husbands still fare badly with cards about boats and dogs. Wives get pastel flowers and cups of tea.

Time to raise the bar and create the following cards:

So Sorry for Your Loss – A sympathy card for your mid-20s life crisis instead of happy 21st birthday.

Congrats on being Under the Thumb – Instead of a wedding card when you can’t stand his wife.

Welcome to Sleepless Nights – in lieu of new (sic) baby cards. And have you ever known an ‘old’ baby?!

Congratulations on your Botox/Fake Boobs/Pec Implants – instead of Happy 30th Birthday or Over the Hill

For My Best Mate – a friendship cards celebrating mateship with Viagra and Cialis

I Promise More Sex – from a husband to his wife, and vice versa, instead of a painting, dull flowers or a boat.

Thank You for telling us You’ve got a Small Dick – for he buys himself a Harley at 40+ or a sporty BMW bike.

Congratulations on your Toy Boy – instead of Happy 50th or welcome to the menopause club card.

Happy Birthday Metro Guy – instead of birthday cards with horses, bottles of wine, sailing and dogs.

A musical card with ‘Another Bites the Dust’ or ‘Who Wants to Live For Ever’- instead of a bland sympathy card.

Isn’t it time greeting cards caught up with life?

If you look too closely at rainbow lorikeets, you could be fooled by their colourful plumage into thinking they’re placid birds. But on closer inspection, they appear like aggressors. Their stance speaks of attitude and they move around ready to take what they want. They eat like vultures, leaving a trial of a mess behind everywhere. They grab the bell seed with one leg, they stand on top of it, and rip into it like their last meal, making a mess all over the surface laid out for them.

In the meantime, the elegant turtle dove circles them within a safe distance. While the lorikeets are too busy gorging themselves on food to care, the turtle doves may appear docile but they’re clever birds. They circle the lorikeets making their presence felt. With their thin soft beaks, and graceful steps, they can’t rip into the seed bell like the colourful birds. Instead, they peck at the scattered chunks of food left behind, and once the lorikeets have destroyed the bell and flown away, the turtle doves peck at their leisure.

Such is the pecking order of life.

Some days you’re a colourful lorikket, other days a quiet dove.