http://www.thepunch.com.au/tags/love/ Politics, political opinion, world news, sports news and the latest news and views updated live, daily on The Punch - Australia's best conversation. en Copyright 2012 The Punch penberthyd@newsltd.com.au penberthyd@newsltd.com.au Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Politics, opinion, world news, sports news, latest news, views, Barack Obama, Kevin Rudd, Julia Gillard, Nathan Rees, Malcolm Turnbull, Peter Garrett, Barnaby Joyce, Australian, federal politics, opinion polls, election, The Punch, thepunch, punch ExpressionEngine 1.6.7 http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 15 http://www.thepunch.com.au/images/punch-logo-rss.png http://www.thepunch.com.au/ 144 70 Politics, political opinion, world news, sports news and the latest news and views updated live, daily on The Punch - Australia's best conversation. Search The Punch keywords http://www.thepunch.com.au/search/ http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-fulfilling-marriage-is-more-about-sext-than-text/ Text to my husband: “Have sorted meatballs and worm tablets.” Except I inadvertently send it to my friend, who wryly messages back: “Glad to see it’s all romance in your house.” Once upon a time, I’d text this man about what I’d like to do to him when next we met. Now it’s reduced to bald instructions to ensure a child isn’t left at school or requests for forgotten dinner items (you’d think I’d remember that pasta goes with bolognaise). Scrolling through our texts reveals a similar theme. Me: “Can you get $105 for drum teacher?” Him: “Just going for a couple of beers with James.” Me: “Pls buy sunscreen.” Him (in shouty capitals because he was cross): “There’s no sour cream. Pls buy some.” penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-fulfilling-marriage-is-more-about-sext-than-text/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-fulfilling-marriage-is-more-about-sext-than-text/#item8536 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/how-can-women-function-without-friendship/ Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/how-can-women-function-without-friendship/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/how-can-women-function-without-friendship/#item8409 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/if-youve-got-a-favourite-child-youre-kidding-yourself/ “Your daughter,” remarks a friend in the schoolyard, “reminds me of that girl in Four Weddings and a Funeral.” Really? The Andie MacDowell character? Or the one they called Duckface? The one who wakes up late, screams f—k four times, then runs to the wedding, ripping her bridesmaid’s dress on the way. “You know,” she continues, “the crazy one with the sticking-up hair.” She’s right. That’s our daughter, an imp of a girl who burst from the womb like a cartoon character, hair on end, legs akimbo, grinning madly despite the indignity of being yanked into the world with a pair of barbecue tongs. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/if-youve-got-a-favourite-child-youre-kidding-yourself/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/if-youve-got-a-favourite-child-youre-kidding-yourself/#item8232 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/are-your-friends-looking-for-love-in-all-the-wrong-places/ Love is a bitch to find. If you believe Hollywood, it’s there for the taking – lurking in Central Park, where his dog sniffs at your dog and you chat and go for coffee… blah, blah, blah. Or it’s in a bookshop – one of those cosy, little word-worthy places, where you reach for Eckhart Tolle and he reaches for Paul Theroux and so ensues a darling discussion, and you go back to his place and fall into bed and live happily ever after. Oh, please. Don’t get me started on nightclubs, those palaces of fleeting promises. They’re a travesty to romance, great for a boogie or a one-nighter, but no friend of mine, gay or straight, has ever found enduring love on a grubby dance floor. Congrats if you have, here’s a wet wipe. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/are-your-friends-looking-for-love-in-all-the-wrong-places/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/are-your-friends-looking-for-love-in-all-the-wrong-places/#item8185 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/My-bittersweet-relationship-with-a-sweet-brown-mistress/ A new person entering a small workplace will inevitably alter the human equilibrium. Just as chaos theory predicts the fluttering of a butterfly wing can cause a cataclysmic event, the introduction of small habits can have big consequences. Enter Jo: a talented, hard working and very personable colleague who has wonderfully enhanced our office in every respect… bar one. Jo has brought a coffee machine. As a garnish to the coffee she has beside her desk a jar of chocolates. In many ways my life has been characterised by a stormy relationship with chocolate. True it is that in a world of shifting sands and moving goal posts chocolate has been a constant friend delivering consistent satisfaction on demand. Yet the legacy on my waist has been a girth approaching the dimensions of the MCG. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/My-bittersweet-relationship-with-a-sweet-brown-mistress/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/My-bittersweet-relationship-with-a-sweet-brown-mistress/#item8179 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/my-unbearable-life-as-a-handsome-man/ Ladies, please keep your distance today. For one day in the year, I beg you. Allow me to repose unpestered and alone in my magnificence. Today, I need my space. Today, my perfect face with its high cheekbones and steely jaw is unusually furrowed, and all because of a wonderful column by UK writer Samantha Brick. Not until I read her raw, groundbreaking words did I realise I share her problem. Samantha and I are siblings in exquisiteness. We are soul brother and sister in sheer physical splendour. Like Ms Brick, I am a victim of my own vivacity and it’s time my plight was highlighted. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Lightweight http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/my-unbearable-life-as-a-handsome-man/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/my-unbearable-life-as-a-handsome-man/#item8175 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/friday-dilemma-a-double-shot-of-love-or-freebie-froth/ A Puncher writes: I’ve had a long and fruit(salad)ful relationship with my barista. He always asks how my day’s going. Knows my complicated coffee order right off the bat. There’s service with a smile and small-talk with sizzle. But lately I’ve been awarded an array of discounts and freebies that would put FlyBuys or MyerOne to shame. There’s discounted fruity muffins. Free fruit salads. Free coffees! Lately, I come back to the office cradling half a supermarket worth of food. They’re busy enough that they don’t have to get rid of that much food by foisting it onto customers like me. I’d never think of going anywhere else. But lately I’ve been wondering: is this my barista’s way of hitting on me? I’m worried that any romantic entanglements could jeopardise my extensive collection of freebies, run up my food bills and ruin a perfectly satisfactory customer-barista relationship. What do you think? Are those clouds in my coffee, or love hearts? penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/friday-dilemma-a-double-shot-of-love-or-freebie-froth/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/friday-dilemma-a-double-shot-of-love-or-freebie-froth/#item8082 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/love-and-lust-in-the-department-of-foreign-affairs/ Travel exposes us to foreign sights, tastes and sounds – and many are remarkable, yet after a while, what may surprise us even more than foreign sensations are foreign concepts. The first time a foreign idea stopped me in my tracks was in the midst of a heady love affair in Italy in my twenties. As twentysomethings, the two of us regarded ourselves as very adult in all the ways we valued, and accordingly, after a year or so we had certain conversations about The Future. One day he dropped a proverb into one of these conversations, which goes as follows: “mogli e buoi dei paesi tuoi”.  penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/love-and-lust-in-the-department-of-foreign-affairs/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/love-and-lust-in-the-department-of-foreign-affairs/#item7764 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-letter-for-the-lonely-this-valentines-day/ Tonight is the night when the lucky get to celebrate their fortune with the ones who make them fortunate. Valentine’s Day. Lover’s day. A day for the loved and a sad day for those who are not. Nobody ever mentions the unloved on this day, and they’re the very people who should be cared for the most. So I’m going to have a go. So much of life in the 21st century is built on being loved – finding a partner, settling down, having children, making a home. Doing that makes you “successful” as a human being. By extension, not doing that makes you a “failure”. You have failed as a person. You are not loved, you are not important. You have nobody who wishes to witness your life. The heartbroken - the lonely, the loveless - are seen by society as pitiful. They are immature, wounded, insane, not complete. We insult them by telling them they “need help”. It’s bullshit. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-letter-for-the-lonely-this-valentines-day/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/a-letter-for-the-lonely-this-valentines-day/#item7758 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel. http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/it-was-the-greatest-love-of-all-inside-of-me/ So Whitney Houston died and the news broke social media. Facebook exploded, pieces fell off YouTube and Twitter practically melted as music fans around the world took to their keyboards to tell how much their hearts hurt and how all of this was that BASTARD Bobby Brown’s fault. Tsk. Not humping around. Indeed. Any celebrity loosely qualified to deserve the title issued a solemn statement of sadness and love. penberthyd@newsltd.com.au (David Penberthy) Article http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/it-was-the-greatest-love-of-all-inside-of-me/#comments http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/it-was-the-greatest-love-of-all-inside-of-me/#item7748 Sat, 26 May 2012 20:00:49 +0000 Blindfolded in a room, I could smell her. I could seek her out, smack kisses on both cheeks as is her continental preference, feel the swing of thick red hair, then throw off the blindfold to laugh into eyes as dancingly brown as mine are blue. My friend. My lovely long-distance friend with whom I’ve traversed nearly half my life in conversation as tangential as it is profound; hair, husbands, miscarriages, mothers, books, babies, crumb-wiping, bum-wiping – all tumbling out down the phone. A lifeline of succour and good sense. I can’t imagine life without her, or the other half-dozen women who both anchor and buoy my world. Friendship, I’ve learnt, is a love story as sweeping and sustaining as anything you’ll find in a romance novel.