I can't leave my house!!

There is the biggest, gnarliest, ugliest spider in my driveway right now!

It is holding me hostage.

I HATE spiders. Apart from those cute little jumpy ones and daddy-long-legs.

I don't know if it is dead or alive and there is no way I'm poking it with a stick to find out in case it runs up the stick at me. I may go out there and throw rocks at it shortly. From a safe distance.

And no it isn't a huntsman. I don't think anyway. It is about a quarter to a third of the size of a huntsman. Which is plenty big enough!!! Maybe it's a baby huntsman?

OMG! WHERE'S ITS MOTHER?!!

I think if a fully grown huntsman came up my drive I would have a heart attack.

I am not scared of snakes, mice, rats, bugs, wetas, beetles, moths or ANYTHING else creepy crawly. In fact I think all of the above are pretty cool and some make good pets. But spiders do my head in. Big ones anyway.

I am not going to be able to sleep well tonight. It is going to be out there, menacing me. There is NO WAY any of my windows will be open tonight, I don't care how hot it gets.

I'm too wimpy to even kill it. Although I'm considering backing the car up and down the driveway for a bit. But right now I'm really not keen to go into the garage which is probably crawling with all its extended family and hangers on.

If it sets one vile hairy leg in my house I'll have a spider man out tomorrow. It will be a pity for the 50 or so pet daddy-long-legs I have round the house, but if they are smart they would kill and eat it for me and earn their keep. And dispose of all evidence. I hate big dead spiders almost as much as I hate big alive ones.

I don't even want to go and look at it again. Because what if it is NO LONGER THERE???

And yes I'm aware that I'm about 32,000 times bigger than it is. I'm aware that it most likely is not poisonous. I'm aware it is probably just as scared of me as I am of it. (Well actually I doubt that last point, quite frankly). But even if it is true, any spider hater knows that is SO not the point.

Men

Ah, the thorny subject of men.

I've been single for about a year and thought maybe I'd stick my toe back into the dating pool to see what's out there.

Despite what the movies might have you believe, oddly enough there aren't a plethora of attractive single dads at the school just gagging for it, although there are plenty of yummy mummies, it being a bit of a 'posh' area. They probably wouldn't appreciate me trying to nab their meal ticket, I mean husband, and his SUV. I don't have the requisite blond highlights, designer sunnies and spray on tan so I probably wouldn't stand much of a chance anyway.

Anyway it's been a bit of a dating wasteland, so I thought I'd give online dating another try. The response has underwhelmed me to say the least.

Bear in mind I'm 38, and I've been on there a week. So far some of my winners include:

A 59 year old who describes himself as 'cuddly' and has bigger pics of his dogs than of himself.

A 62 year old who is looking for women aged 18 to 50.

A guy who describes himself as a pirate (whatever THAT means)

Oh - and a guy who describes himself as 'not vanilla' and has an extremely explicit description of what he considered 'intimacy' that included a lot of tongue action. He is also partial to a bit of 'E' and prefers that to alcohol.

And several who couldn't spring for the membership fee so they have a note on their profile asking women to message them first as only paying members can make the first move. Yep. A 40 year old man who can't or won't pay a $30 membership fee is soooooo attractive.

So many quality men, how is a girl to choose from all these hot prospects?

I actually haven't been contacted by many in my age range at all. I suspect they are chasing up the 25 year olds. Who are probably blogging and sniggering about this ancient old dude of 40 who has been emailing them.

I have no idea where all the normal men in their late thirties to late forties are! Probably at home with their wives and families.

It's gone from a wasteland to a swamp. Considering the quality of men out there, I find it really funny that MEN are the ones who supposedly don't want to commit.

I just have to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

So bloody over it

How is it that I can drive from one end of the country to the other and never get a scratch on the car, but every time I go into a bloody carpark I scrape the bumper or plow into a concrete pillar?

I just took part of my front bumper off in a supermarket carpart. Again. Which means I can't drive the car this weekend - at least not any distance.

So friggen over my useless spacial skills.

So grumpy right now.

The diet's off tonight. I'm diving into takeaways and a bottle of vino. I might be some time.

"Pick me! Pick me!"

As a new arrival to town, I am now finding I need to find a place to fit in. To be more precise I need friends as currently I am Nigella-no-mates-in-this-town.

Not that it bothers me, yet. I think in time it would though so I've been getting rather proactive in getting out there and meeting people. My main hunting ground at present is the before-and-after-school mum scene.

I hate going in and being faced with a huge crowd of mums who all appear to know one another, and trying to initiate contact. You don't want to be so standoffish that everyone thinks you're a bore or a snob, and you don't want to be so over-eager that people start to edge away from you. It's a fine line to appear friendly without looking a bit desperate. It's also kind of competitive, trying to get in there socially. Coming in as an outsider is intimidating.

Luckily the school has a policy of mixing up the classes each year so kids learn to socialise in different groups. Plus there are quite a few people in my daughter's class who are new arrivals to the area like me. So there were a few of us standing around like lemmings hoping someone would talk to us, and we ended up gravitating to each other. I can see some potential friendships forming here, and I don't feel like so much of an outsider now.

There seems to be quite an active school social scene here - already the entire class have been invited to a BBQ on the beach soon at which I'm hoping alcohol will feature. And the best thing is I won't have to drive home since I only live five minutes away. I can meander drunkenly back up the hill without guilt.

But I've gotta say, it really makes me appreciate the friends I do have at home, and family too. People who I may rarely see, but who I just know are friends, I don't have to wonder about what our 'status' is, and I know I can be myself and not have to watch what I say. I wuv you, people I have known for a long time!

The only other thing I have to say right now is gawd it's hot and humid. Every day and every night. Now I am going to go to bed and attempt to sleep without spontaneously combusting.

"Mum, I know I shouldn't say this but..."

"You're getting fat."

My darling daughter informed me of this last week. My daughter who I consider is directly responsible for the parlous state of my post-childbirth tummy.

In my defence it was pre-period bloat week. But unfortunately, she is right. To be fair I'm not actually fat, but I'm not looking particularly sleek right now either. Which is putting it kindly.

Many years ago when I was young I had a pretty good bod which I maintained by stuffing my face with anything I fancied, doing naff all exercise, and feeling smug about inheriting my mother's skinny genes. 

Those were the days....but childbearing, being a parent, and ageing took care of that. I'm now about six kilos over my ideal weight and out of shape. 

Six kilos doesn't sound like much but when you are a short-arse with a small frame it makes a big difference. Some women can carry extra weight well and still look sexy and strong - I can't. And actually the weight doesn't bother me nearly as much as the out of shape bit. I hate looking flabby and unfit.

Living here I spend half my life in a bathing suit at the moment and shallow it may make me, but I want to look good at the beach, damn it. I don't want to look mumsy and flabby. I've got plenty of time for that when I hit the retirement home.

I'm on a mission to lose about six kilos to get back to my ideal weight of 53 kilos and get fit. I suspect I've lost a bit already. I can't be sure, but my clothes feel a bit looser. I don't actually own any scales so I'm going to have to pop down to the chemist once a week or so and weigh myself to check I'm on track.

God, I can't believe I'm dieting. And about to start an exercise programme. But in a way I'm enjoying the challenge. I'm one of those people who always needs to be striving for something or I get bored. 

On a practical note, I'm quite looking forward to being able to get back into all my 'smaller' clothes again. It saves me having to buy new ones. Which is good, since I am still working on being frugal.