Thursday, September 27, 2007

Bah buhbuhbuh Baby!

One word answer meme:

1. Where is your mobile phone? hand bag
2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend? nil
3. Your hair? soft
4. Work? holidays
5. Your father? passed
6. Your favorite thing? daydreaming
7. Your dream last night? sexy
8. Your favorite drink? coffee
9. Dream car? petrol-less
10. The room you're in? bed
11. Your pet? dead.
12. Your fears? uncontrolled
13. What do you want to be in 10 years? happy
14. Where did you hang out last night? TV
15. What you're not good at? organisation
16. Eyebrow rings on the preferred sex? ..depends
17. One of your wish list items? hugs
18. Where you grew up? melb
19. The last thing you did? yawn
20. What are you wearing? pjs
21. What aren't you wearing? knickers
22. The website GoofyAuctions.com (filled with eBay spoofs)? huh?
23. Your computer? precious
24. Your life? crossroads
25. Your mood? melancholy
26. Missing? friend.
27. What are you thinking about right now? meme
28. Your car? filthy
29. Your work? transfer
30. Your summer? nearly
31. Your relationship status? zilch
32. Your favorite color? wine
33. When is the last time you laughed? morning.
34. Last time you cried? recently
35. School? ...maybe.

Spring has a sound. If I couldn't smell or see I'd still be able to pick spring from the sounds. Faint lawnmowers, the occasional bird call and that wind - an almost-there rustle against the leaves. All those things mean spring - there's a sense of newness, it's cliche to think it I know that, but it also happens to be true.

Speaking of newness it seems like all my friends have gone and sprouted new children overnight. I realise it's been happening for a while now, but the other day I looked at my calendar and realised that all my holiday catch-ups involve children. Yes, all of them, and there are quite a few. I'd be lying if I said it was always joyous - quite frankly it's not. Sorry to all the babied up people in the stratosphere but let me outline exactly why you guys sort of suck sometimes.

* You can't hold a conversation that doesn't involve children. I've tried, it doesn't happen. I've given up. I thought teachers had the monopoly on being self-absorbed but no, parents take the cake.

* Any plans are now classified "indefinite". I'll see you ... maybe has become the basic mantra. In fact I tend not to leave the house until the absolute last minute anymore, just in case the 'we can't make it' call comes through and trust me, it does about 60% of the time.

* Don't even get me started on just trying to *plan* an outing. Good Christ I'd have better luck planning coffee with the Pope.

* You now know nothing about my life. Not because I don't have one but because the last time we talked about me the baby was still inside you.

* You know what? I love you, I love your baby and I totally have both your backs but if I have to eat in one more child friendly restaurant I'm going to stab you with my child friendly spork. I hate child friendly restaurants. You are dumbfounded when I suggest somewhere else - like as if you're amazed that adults don't love places with a kids menu and crap coffee.

* You've suddenly turned competitive. Not about yourself but about your child. Little Man is in the somethingth percentile for body weight, you don't say? wow, I'm impressed. Little Man could walk by 6 months? Oooh lala, blow me over with a feather! Walking, who ever heard of such a thing in a human being!

* Phone calls go a little something like this

Me: Hey, long time no hear - how are you going?
You: Oh my god, where do I begin? Little Man was up all night grizzling so of course that meant I was up too. Hubby refused to get up because he says he's the one going to work and he needs his sleep. What about my sleep? I haven't had a full nights sleep in 6 months! So anyway, I'm up with little Man and every time he'd drift off to sleep I'd tip toe back into bed and then he'd start screaming again. So I go in and check his nappy but no poo and then I check his temperature and he feels a little warm but how warm is too warm for a baby? In the end I called the nurse at 3am mind you, and she kept suggesting all these different things so then I called the maternal nurse and SHE said something completely different to the other nurse so in the end I bundled up Little Man and took him to the hospital where I was 6th in line and had to wait for 3 and a half hours JUST to get a consultation and then a further 45 minutes in the doctor's office. In the end it turned out to just be rash but you can never be too careful when it comes to babies can you? Anyway how are you going?
Me: Err... um well I've got some exciting news actually!
You: oh good you know these days I just don't get any adult conversation anymore. I'd love to hear some news.
Me: Okay well...
You: hello, hellooooo, hello Little Man are you smiling? Are you smiling at me? Aren't you clever? You're very clever and handsome - now here you go here's a toy you can play with..
Me: *cough* anyway..
You: oh sorry I *am* terrible I know. Baby brain and all that. oh bugger now he's started crying I have to go feed him bye
*dial tone*
Me: ohhhh kaaay.

Yes, I realise you are doing something tres important by producing your own spawn but I remember once upon a time when you were cool and could hold a conversation. Maybe I'll be the same one day, but I honestly hope not.

Don't mind me, I'm just feeling a little neglected on the friend front. *pout*

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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

The view from the windowsill

As a child I spent a lot of time playing by the windowsill. I remember rainy days with my head pressed against the glass, breathing onto the window to make it fog up and then drawing happy faces, flowers and houses into the condensation there. Drawing idyllic domestic scenes was a favourite past time of mine, besides it seemed like it was always too wet to go outside.

I remember autumn days sitting by the windowsill, reading a book while the wind whipped the brown and orange leaves into a whirling frenzy outside. Pulling my too big jumper over my knees and right down over my toes - stretching it until it hung low and baggy. Too cold to go outside and who could be bothered anyway?

I remember setting up house by the windowsill for my dolls and lego. A windowsill is a perfectly straight bench with finite parameters and perfect for a temporary toy laden lodging. I'd play there while the sun shone outside, or even if it didn't just playing and always keeping my eye on the outside world, just in case.

I remember being a child waiting by the window, with my chin resting on the windowsill watching the sun disappear behind the rooftops of the houses opposite ours. Waiting for Dad to come home from work - always wondering whether he'd make it - always thinking that he wouldn't. My view from the windowsill a reminder that things don't always happen on time.

I remember sleepless nights, as a teenager awake way past the witching hour. 2am, 3am, 4am, 5am would see me with headphones in, and my cheek pressed firmly against the coldness of the glass as I watched the street light illuminate the corner block. Indie music on an obscure AM radio station blared into my open eyed dreams as I wondered about the sleeping world outside my window.

Spring now, a kaleidoscope of sunlit hues playing on the windowsill and tinkling brightly into the room. I'm still keeping my eye on the outside world from this windowsill. I'm just not quite ready to go there yet.

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Monday, September 24, 2007

Choice and control

I didn't post a Musical Monday last week. It was a busy time at school, I was exhausted and most importantly I couldn't think of how I wanted to phrase my post. I still can't to tell you the truth, but I won't let that stop me this week. This is a long one.

Last week, I posted an entry about the child model Maddison Gabriel and mused about the fashion industry using someone who is not a woman to represent women on the catwalk. Obviously, I was pissed about it, with good reason I think. Then I finished up that post with a Tori Amos suggestion that those girls like Britney Spears, girls who had lost their way, bare crotch girls who behave badly, need a mother. I've been thinking a lot about this lately. By lately, I mean, my whole adult life.

The Maddion Gabriel thing from a week or so ago highlighted to me one thing with absolute certainty and that is that: the status quo does. Not. Work. For. Women. and anyone who thinks it does is completely berko. It doesn't work in the first world and it doesn't work in the 3rd world. I shouldn't have to spell out why it doesn't work but in case you need it have a look at violence on the streets, sex, religion, fashion, education, corporation, politics and capitalism for a taste of that why. I don't even think it works for men either, to tell you the truth - but if we're going to compare (and yes we are) then well, you're not seeing 12 year old boys being sexualised by the media. You wouldn't see men standing for that either - which is an important point. Us girls, in terms of media representation and politics allow ourselves to be degraded - and then some of us actively take part in that degradation. That's why you have someone like Maddison Gabriel saying that it's all she ever wanted to do. That old gem: "It's my choice".

People get confused a bit about the difference between women's choice and women making the only choice they can in a situation that is not quite the best. I get confused because some choices seem really dumb, also some choices are applauded and some are not. For instance, musically speaking why is it accepted and applauded for a woman to wear a skimpy bikini in a soft porn video clip while allowing some fat pig of a producer to write their songs for them and market them to young girls and horny boys in a way that has nothing to do with music at all. Whereas it's not quite the same for a curvaceous, outspoken lesbian woman to write her own lyrics that are political and demonstrative. The first will have a lot of success because she fits into the accepted role of female as valued by both men and women - the other will struggle both musically and socially. Which choice would you make, the easy road or the high (and harder) road? Taking the easy road propagates the myth - taking the high road changes things but ultimately means that you might be ostricised. Some choices are easier to make than others and some choices are made for those who don't have the guts to stand up and fight against them.

When I quoted that Tori Amos little ditty about Britney needing a mother, I wasn't really thinking about the tennis club attending, SUV driving (quick, key it!), latte drinking, hot MILFS of the Eastern suburbs. I was thinking about women paying attention to who we are, and where we have come from rather than what society wants us to be. We are rather important to the human race, us little ladies but unfortunately the story changed with Adam and Eve and we're all a bit lost now I fear, it's not just Britney. The story that women came of the rib is fiction, we never came of the rib, instead women carry BOTH male and female within us and so, perhaps rather than Adam's rib producing Eve it is actually Eve that produces Adam and in fact all of humanity. Not just a one trick pony mind you - it's happening right now somewhere. I'm of course talking about the Earth and universe itself which produces all (and personified by woman or mother) and which was once worshiped in its own right favoured only much, much later for another deity: God (personified by man or father).

I'm not going to turn this into religious bashing because this is purely social commentary but the point is - civilisations are built and ruined on the back of a story but stories change, the way we live now - our politics, our degradation or choices or whatever, is due basically to a fundamental shift away from the way we viewed those stories back then not because we are living in the way it should be or because it is the natural order of all things. Things change - the way of the world is not ever absolute. I'm saying this to make a rather pertinent point about stories (both his and hers) here - not to point fingers. We both have our stories and us women just happened to forget ours.

This is why when you have someone a little bit different making a big ruckus about the way things are and how they should change then you just have to listen because it's apparent that the way things are has only worked for so long because us girls have accepted it, owned it and are now producing it ourselves.

I truly think that the most effective form of control is not overt but that which has the consent of whom you're controlling. I mean, it's harder to control those that kick and scream and bite and are willing to die just to get away from that control than it is to control one who not only agrees but comes up with their own punishment.

Why then, do women partake in it? Is it because we're making the best of a bad situation? Is it because we've forgotten where we come from? Your guess is as good as mine.

But back to music. I wanted to go back to that idea of woman in skimpy bikini in a soft porn video clip singing songs that aren't her own versus a woman with an opinion and a musical instrument. One sells more than the other. One is loved more by men. One is revered more - but it's not because of her music. If Meatloaf sang that Umbrella song by Rhianna then he'd be laughed off stage - career over (okay it's already over). But the song is a hit, so obviously something is not adding up here! The song is not a hit because the song is fantastic, alas the song is the most annoying, overplayed piece of garbage I've heard in a long time. If a serious artist sang it while wearing jeans and boots and who didn't shave their pits and then gave an interview talking about gender politics then it wouldn't be a hit at all.

So what exactly is the function of these sexy women in music? It's not the music. It's the sex - and why indeed isn't the sex the same for male artists then? While JT might dance up a storm and [insert boy band here] might make the girls scream there isn't quite the same level of porn factor going on as is done with women in music. Men are sexy but the level of degradation isn't the same - not by a long shot and I won't hear one word that says otherwise. I've got nothing against sexing it up, but then again I think that there are a lot of things that are sexy apart from the greased up plastic boobs of the video clips of today. I'd like to "bring sexy back" in terms of musical ability or being able to convey emotion, or being outspoken or funny or strong and talented or something like that. I'd like to see sexy happen in a way that isn't about women doing whatever they are doing right now on video clips on Saturday morning on channel 10. That stuff, it's not only bullshit but it's harmful to our self image and we've had a long time of it and now it's time for everyone to realise that all of us being outraged by Maddison Gabriel being so young and being a model and sexy video clips on Saturday morning television are actually related. The culture is ripe for Maddison Gabriel type "stuff" - haven't you ever wondered about why?

So what do we do girls (and for anyone who cares about us)? Do you say something and risk being ostracised or do you just let it happen and partake in it? Or, do we find little avenues in the way we live now to carve new ways into the future?

Speaking of avenues in the way things are now. A few weeks ago while watching Australian Idol one of the contestants sang the song that I'm about to play for MM today. It's a great song. I mean GREAT! It's not quite Idol though. It's too confronting for idol - it was performed originally by a woman who weighs over 200 pounds, says what she thinks, is a lesbian and rather non-conformist and totally sexy. Obviously, Beth Ditto not going to make it big in today's mainstream Umbrella type musical climate. Obviously *that* particular Idol contestant was voted out the next week - not because of the context of the song and not because of Beth Ditto, I'd doubt that anyone even knows her, but because that performance itself was very different... It wasn't a great performance, granted - but it was just too different for Idol anyway. And that's the point - you can see how choices are sometimes made for us. If that contestant had performed a more conventional, sexier routine she might still be there this week, closer to her musical dream - but then I might not have heard the song. Funny how things like choices and control work.

Before I play the song I have to finish with this. Something that is actually at the core of all my beliefs in gender politics - men are women ..perhaps we should never, ever look at gender as a form of labeling - the world would be a far better place if we recognised that everyone is individual, no one is better than any other, everyone is scared, everyone is looking for a way to make their lives better, to love, to live or just to survive. Everyone is the same and different at the same time. A much better way to live - if only, huh?

The world unfortunately is drawn in gender lines no matter how you view it and there are still inequalities that need to be addressed and by God (or Adam's rib) I will have my say as should you, whether you agree or not.

So, on that and closer to the song. I came across a quote by Beth Ditto, lead vocalist for The Gossip on gender and difference.

"Women aren't cats, we aren't pets, we are just people trying to cross the freaking street to get an ice-cream cone."

I like it. Basically we're really not so different are we? Maybe the way we are viewed should be addressed now (instead of swept under that oh so reductive 'but it's their choice' statement you hear so often) so that girls who are still children now have a bit of a chance to realise that these badly behaved girls and soft porn video clip stars are actually not really what we want to be. Or are they? Our choice? Quite - let's make better ones.

Standing in the Way of control - The Gossip
(a song about Gay rights actually, but it works for most situations I think).

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Sunday, September 23, 2007

Just Friends?

Dinner with the girls the other night took a turn towards the dark side when everyone started ganging up on E about her overly flirtatious and utterly inappropriate friendship with a male co-worker of hers. It's become a hot topic of conversation - hotter since she got married, that is. I've written about them a few times...

It turns out that for her recent birthday Male co-worker gifted E a bottle of perfume, guaranteed to turn him on. The problem was, that by "him" he actually meant himself and not "him" the ever loving husband. She told hubby about the gift (hubby, is actually fully aware of this friendship, it's not a secret) and hubby said that she wasn't allowed to wear it. She told the girls and I (rather drunkenly) blurted "well we don't want to smell it either! Chuck it away". I'm not one to beat around the bush. As it turns out E has found herself in a group of girlfriends who all think that flirting outside the confines of marriage is a punishable offense. Lucky for her husband, unlucky for her - we are all leaning on his side, in terms of sympathy. L argued that she would be having 'words' if her husband decided to carry on as E had done. I said that I would feel so incredibly sad about it if it was my husband. C said that they have an agreement that since her husband doesn't take his own wife out for coffee then there's no way that he's going anywhere with any other girl. Ez just said that if she received a bottle of perfume from another man then her husband would pay that man a little visit. I asked bro, who simply said that he wouldn't stand that kind of shit from someone he loved.

E insists that the male co-worker's motives are purely in fun *cough* and argued that she's allowed to have friends, surely - and besides (the real crux of the issue) she doesn't really know how to tell him to back off without ruining this so called friendship. Personally I think a friendship means being supportive rather than undermining your friend's life, but anyway. She insists that hubby is fine with the friendship (she insisted this while looking the other way). I insist that hubby is only "fine with it" because has found himself in a situation where if he tells E who to be friends with there will be hell to pay - so he says nothing. Hubby does not like male co-worker, this much we know. Amusingly E discovered that hubby had a facebook request from an old flame which not only did she veto but is still upset about. E recognises the utter hypocirsy of her situation.

While I doubt anything physical has ever actually transpired between them - it still doesn't make the situation less inappropriate. There's a lot of manipulation going on on the part of 'the friend' and a lot of emotional elation going on with E, who is pretty flattered by other male attention she's getting.

If your significant other flirted with a co-worker of the opposite sex to the point where propositions are made regularly (and then laughed off) and then a personal gift is given which implies a sexual innuendo would you be okay with it? Does it have to turn physical for it to be wrong?

Where does one draw the line between "just friends" and "...uh oh" when it comes to having friendship with members of the opposite sex outside that relationship?

Can (straight) men and women ever be just friends, especially when the "sex is already out there"?

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Tuesday, September 18, 2007


* I had a strange blogger dream last night. It involved a mass blogger meet up, but felt more like High school. I liked High School in so far that I was totally happy doing my dance and drama, hanging out with my friends, singing show tunes in class and laughing a lot.. a hell of a lot (obviously I wasn't one of the popular elite). Apart from that I pretty much hated everyone else in High School and much like Erica Yurken from my one of my favourite childhood novels Hating Alison Ashley, I was always in the sick bay with a made up illness of some sort hoping to get out of 6th period Science with Mr K (he wore canary yellow).

The blogger meet up reminded me a little of my 10 year High School reunion (yes, unfortunately I did go...). I recognised some people, I think I recognised others and some I had no idea about. The whole thing was rather awkwardly surreal and I felt a little out of place. Which is incidentally how I alway feel - so at least that wasn't new. Just when things were looking very sad indeed Helena Bonham Carter turned up and sat right next to me. I'm not sure if she has a blog or not but it was marvelous of her anyway. She kelp scrunching her curls and looked a little flustered and distracted though - which funnily enough is exactly how I feel at the moment.

* The movie project is due tomorrow. Today, the new Dawson Leary was instructed to chain himself to the computer and edit the thing until it was done (day...what? 8 of editing?). Of course I was stuck in the AR with a bunch of homicidal children also known as my grade 3 art class (yes, yes okay fine I was the homicidal one) who for some reason were all concentrated on two girls in the grade squabbling with each other.

I got rather sick of the back and forth "but she said..." stuff and in a moment of utter frustration exclaimed to the whole grade in a loud and rather hysterical voice OH FOR GOODNESS SAKE (would love to swear for once), AS A MATTER Of INTEREST PUT UP YOUR HAND IF YOU ARE ANNOYED BY * and * ARGUING? Every single child in the grade put up their hand including one of the said squabblers (amusing). Then I put up my hand and so did the parent helper who had come in to do a yarn spinning demonstration (haha). The other squabbler and only person with their hand down looked mortified. I stopped the Art lesson right there and we talked about ways to avoid getting into arguments. It was the first time in a while for that grade that everyone worked cooperatively to come up with a solution (amazing how 'if you don't get along maybe don't sit together' is such a simple solution and and yet so effective). I'm not sure if highlighting that the whole class basically thought these two girls were idiots was the right way to go in teacher-land but sometimes kids need a dose of reality. They were being idiots.

Anyway, being stuck in the AR with a bunch of children meant that I could not keep an eye on Dawson Leary II and the movie editing. So when I turned up to the lab and saw him working on the DIRECTORS CUT of our 3 minute movie (including bloopers and outtakes and a credit reel, gangsta style) I went ballistic! Meanwhile the actual movie wasn't yet finished and I had big problems with a missing consent of release form (which by the way is still missing and by the way the fate of our movie depends on me finding it). So the film is still not finished and we are down a consent of release form. I have no way of actually supervising these children AND teach a grade at the same time AND actually get the tape to the co-ordinator all by tomorrow so the only thing left for me to do is have a complete nervous breakdown. Dawson Leary II, saw me hitting my head against the table today and said Oh Miss F, you and *producer* both stress too much! Doooooooooooontworryaboutit!. Serenity now! How do I get myself into these things?

* I had my review with Prin yesterday afternoon. I prepared like a champion (which means not starting the thinking process until about midnight the night before, pulling an all nighter and working through my lunch break and planning hour the next day) and we had a fine chat about next year. If she doesn't change her mind (anything goes with Prin) then I shall be back in the classroom next year with a day out of the room every week to supervise a Media Art extension group. This is very exciting and should keep me interested and challenged next year - and also answers the aforementioned question: How do I get myself into these things? Sigh. Surely Dawson Leary III will be a winner.

* It's amazing just how many people are searching for that blasted Maddison Gabriel on the net and coming up with my journal. Wouldn't it be great if they WEREN'T looking for child porn and instead were motivated by a distaste of the fashion and beauty industry and the unrealistic pressures it puts on women? Wouldn't it be fabulous if every one of them said 'hey, you know - this sucks and so I'm going to be outspoken about this too'? That would be great. God, I hope they're not looking for porn.

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Saturday, September 15, 2007

Needing a Mother.

Here we have Maddison Gabriel. I bet if you were single you'd buy her a drink (or two) and flirt shamelessly with her if you came across her - or maybe you'd just sit back and perve - you're allowed it's what boys do, don't worry! I mean she has a great set of pins and I can say that because well she's on a catwalk and she's wearing a miniskirt and well...dude she's a model and she's there so that gay men can admire the dress, women can feel inferior (and yes okay admire the fashion) and straight men can oggle her legs. I know I'm not too far off the mark.

The problem is that she's twelve.

This is a problem. This is a BIG problem because if a 12 year old is the best representative as the face of Gold Coast Fashion Week then it's no wonder that any women or girl over the age of 14 is completely and utterly fucked when it comes to body image. How in the hell can someone who might not even have her first period yet be a "model" that represents the rest of us? Kids are not the same as adults and I have a humongous problem with the 'if she's enjoying it then let her do it' argument that has been passed around. Okay, smartarses would you let your 12 year old get married to your 45 year old neighbour if she said she wanted to? Probably not..why? Because 12 is a kid and 12 has no idea what 12 wants and 12 needs to be protected even if 12 looks more like 18.

You don't see 12 year old boys representing 25 year old men on the catwalk do you? That's because
1) Society is not obsessed with men looking young.
2) Boys don't look like men.

Girls don't look like women either but this girl looks older than her years and that's the point. She has all the youth of 12 but with a body that looks slightly older no woman wants to actually look like a 12 year old tom boy but take a body of a 17 or 18 year old with the skin of a 12 year old and you have one big confusing message for women that is: "woman" as represented by the media can NEVER, EVER be achieved no matter how hard we try. Since "woman" represented by the media is our primary image/model for women in this society then that's a pretty fucked up message. The other prime image of women for women are our mothers, but more about that later.

Enter Maddison Gabriel; the perfect unreachable target which is the whole message of the modeling industry if you ask me. 30 year old skin does not have the same elasticity as 12 year old skin, though we'd love it to. There is a rather dangerous propensity for the media to admire and reward females who look younger than their age. Take a look at the straight up and down models who have graced the catwalks over the last 20 or so years. Thin, boyish and very weak looking. This to me screams of young girl. I don't understand how they can be our "models" but there you have it - apparently it makes the dresses hang better. I laugh my head off at this since it's actually women who end up wearing fashion on the streets, not bloody coat hangers.

Anyway, Maddison Gabriel has come out laughing about the whole deal because she thinks it's funny that anyone would be fussed with such a thing. Her mother is also perplexed by the furor in the media and is feeling as though next people will come out and say that she's a bad mother - when all she's doing is letting her daughter do something that SHE wants to do. Well said mum, I mean child stars are never known for going COMPLETELY off the rails are they? *cough*

You know what I wanted to do when I was 12? Marry Tom Selleck and eat only hubba bubba gum for the rest of my life. Yep, being 12 I really should have been allowed to pursue those dreams of mine. I'm still upset by not being allowed to eat only bubble gum and marry Tom Selleck - instead my mother made to stay in school and eat three balanced meals a day.

Speaking of needing mothers.

The best comment I have heard on Britney Spears has come from Tori Amos at her concert on Tuesday at Hamer Hall where she sang a little ditty as her response to the media laughing about Britney Spears. If you click on the link it takes you to Perez Hilton's site where there is audio of the song and the lyrics.

Britney, they set you up
But you drank from their cup
Britney, they set you up
Oh, but this is what it looks like, love,
This is what is looks like

When a star falls down
When a star falls down

Well, maybe you’re a mother
But you still need your mother
Yes, I may be a mother
But I still need a mother
To pick me up
Yes, to pick me up

When it all falls down

I'm not one for excessive lyric posting but I thought this was all extremely topical not only for Britney and Maddison but for too many young female Hollywood stars who have fallen down in a heap over the past 5 years. Girls, what is going on? What are we becoming? Meg White has also eluded to this issue in the song Passive Manipulation where she sings

Women, listen to your mothers
don't just succumb to the wishes of your brothers
take a step back, take a look at one another
you need to know the difference, between a father and a lover

I know this is turning into a bit of a Musical Monday post but I have to say, yes I think there is definitely a place for politics in music and when put so eloquently then yes I agree. I found the Britney performance and subsequent media feeding frenzy sad because girls when Pete Doherty does it, people aren't laughing quite as hard at him are they? He's not regarded as pathetic, or as unhinged as Brit - though, clearly while he is talented he is that pathetic and unhinged.

I also came across this quote where Tori (again) says of Britney and other young starlets like her

"You see a lot of women today -- maybe in magazines -- crawling out of cars and thinking it's sexy," Amos recently told Spinner. "[And] for the most part, you don't hear guys going, 'Wow! I am just blown away by that beauty or by that woman's way. There's something about her.' No. Do you know what they do? They laugh. They laugh when we're spreading our legs and crawling out of a car. It's tragic. Ultimately, we demean ourselves."

What the hell is going on with these girls? Is it a lack of mothering that is to blame? Are we trying too hard to keep up with the boys? Are women just dumb? Is culture ripe for tearing women down while we support and encourage that with our own actions? Have we been set up? Should our role models be our mothers rather than our daughters and younger sisters?

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Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Can't stop missing Anna Nicole

So after my last boo hoo post about aloneness - by some serendipity I came across the article that expained it all.

Radar's 100 Reasons Why You Are Still Single.

I swear I busted a rib laughing while reading it. Then of course the stark reality set in that ummm maybe I do some of these things.

Here are some of the best bits of the list - of course the whole thing is a best bit really. I've been kind enough to highlight the ones exhibited by yours truly so you can see just how sad I am and point and laugh. I will not name names but I already know that some of YOU guys do some of the things on the list too. I'll leave it up to you to own up.

5. Are only gay when you're drunk

6. Have written poetry inside a Starbucks

13. Use emoticons in handwritten letters (I know this is unforgivable but you see the thing is - once you start this it's very difficult to stop!)

14. Own a "It's Not Going to Suck Itself" T-shirt

18. Can't stop missing Anna Nicole

19. Scream out Wheel of Fortune answers (Wheel of Fortune, Temptation, RocKwiz, Spicks and Specks, even kids game shows - yes unfortunately for you I am always the carry over couch champ of any televised game show!)

21. Won't travel anywhere out of "blading distance"

23. Begin stories with, "I'm not a stalker, but ..." (...only as a joke I swear!)

26. Flash devil horns in wedding photos

27. Eat with one arm guarding your plate

28. Refer to your PDA as a "Crackberry"

29. Have a dartboard in your kitchen

30. Own a calendar featuring babies dressed as cowboys

32. Keep a dream journal (technically no, but I've been known to write about a dream or two, or 25)

36. Have a "lucky" garter hanging from your rearview mirror

38. Refuse to remove your Bluetooth earpiece during sex

39. Take off work each year to celebrate Cinco de Mayo; are Irish

41. Display your framed degree from bartending school

44. Refer to Target as "Tar-Jay" (not anymore, I promise...but I only very recently quit - like about 10 minutes ago when I read this list)

45. Have ever said: "That's sooo Sagittarius" (I can't help it if some people are *very* Leo, others are unfortunately Taurean - haha, yes yes I know a billion of you are Taurus, don't get your knickers in a knot- and some other people are so fabulously Arean they deserve to be king of the world now can I? *cough*)

47. Have a five o'clock shadow, on your ass

49. Cry when you listen to Belle and Sebastian, then, still tearful, blog about it (um..oh lord, it may not be Belle and Sebastian but it's close, veeerrry close and you all know it. I blame WDKY).

52. Have more than zero stuffed animals on your bed

53. Live by two sartorial rules: pleated, stonewashed

58. Have taken more than one cell phone picture of your genitals

59. Close all correspondence with "Prayerfully Yours"

62. Use the word "scrumptious" (it's a perfectly good word dammit!)

64. List "Dungeon Master" on your business card

75. Have a bedside stack of Sudoku books

76. Can only make love to the Mighty Mighty Bosstones

80. Have a screensaver of you posing with your Frisbee golf bros

82. Have cellulite on your face

83. Refer to yourself as a "vagitarian"

87. Get visibly angry during Apple vs. PC debates

88. Are known among your girlfriends as "Heavy Flow"

98. Posted a Craigslist "Missed Connections" ad to find the kid who groped you on the subway

99. Believe the mouth is self-cleaning

Incidentally I partook (is this even a word?) in a PC versus Mac "conversation" at school today. I am one of those rare people that owns a Mac (though rarely use it for internet surfing purposes anymore) and actually COULDN'T GIVE A SHIT about which is better in emotive terms. I find it infinitely amusing how emotional Mac people are about their computers. There's some definite ain't seen any lovin' in a long time type passion going on there with the Mac users and I'm not quite sure why Mac users are so taken with their Macs.

The people I was talking to seemed normal on the outside (except we are all teachers, which of course makes us abnormal to the nth degree) totally surprised me by how far their lovefest went - hell they even got into "classic Mac appreciation societies" for fucks sake - yes apparently they really do exist!. I'm like...yes, I'm one of you but I'm not a freak like you (I actually said that). It seems that next year we will have more than two Mac users renting their edu laptops at the school. The computer techs are mortified - you'd think they'd be rapt.

- It seems that I'm not the only one considering a change at the school next year. The problem with this is that a few personalities I probably wouldn't like working with are planning on making a change to the same level that I'm considering teaching at next year. This is making me think twice about changing at all. Will working in a team I don't like be worth the change? I know the classroom is 'my own' but I'm now used to planning and executing things my own way - especially financially...will I end up killing someone whose ideas I clash with?

I approached Prin about maintaining some Art duties. She seemed receptive to the idea but I know that she doesn't want anymore job and grade sharing going on than is already happening next year. The thing about teaching at a primary level is that so much is always going on. We are not a bunch of specialist teachers - we've all trained as classroom teachers - but classrooms are creative and dynamic places in primary schools and people who go into teaching usually have something a little extra up their sleeves and are creative and dynamic too. You have to be in order to work with kids. Maybe they are arty, or have a knack for organising money, or are secretly computer geeks, or have a way with counseling, or are film buffs, or sporting legends in their tea breaks or musical geniuses, can dance or are amature theatre stars.

Wouldn't it be great that since we are fostering these "extra talents" in children too, that those of us who want to offer more, can? Schools are always banging on about being flexible places that integrate learning but the bottom line is, we rarely integrate teachers in order to make best use of our talents. We teach in boxes most of the time because it's easiest for management and indeed easier to sell to the parents. Sometimes we bow too much to parental pressure - so little John will have to get used to having two teachers instead of one - geez someone call in the authorities little John will have to...*gasp* learn to deal with different personalities - which won't help him in the real world at all, will it? Yes, I understand that if we're going to let teachers follow their own areas of interest then it means that the school will be messy in its structure - but as any teacher will tell you that all the best learning is messy, isn't it?

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Monday, September 10, 2007

Monday morning, alone time musings.

It's funny sort of morning, warm and sunny but there's chill in the whip of the wind that will later develop into a blistery grey day. I'm standing to the side of a weathered basket ball court supervising children run back and forth in a seemingly endless relay. It's 9.15am and their faces are already shiny with sweat - the sky is a perfect expanse of blue and judging from my weepy eyes, spring is definitely in the air. I'm switching balance from foot to booted foot - and thinking about life and being alone. Not exactly a cheery Monday morning thought. I know these things are never really permanent unless you decide they are, but this feels permanent.

I don't think I've ever been more aware of being alone than right now. Friends with children have become unaccessible. Phone conversations reduced to "so how are you?" and before I can have my say it's "...oh God, baby crying, gotta go bye". I've simply stopped saying anything about myself at all - instead I ask about them. As yet, they haven't noticed the change but it's just easier for everyone concerned. God knows lack of adult conversation means they don't speak to anyone else either.

Then there are the 'too busy to talk' friends, and the 'last ditch effort to inject some life into their lives by transferring overseas' friends and the 'not as close as we used to be' friends. I'm just feeling a bit displaced and lost - is this an 'almost 30' thing? Is this normal?

Apart from the usual coffee and dinner occurrences I find myself spending a lot of time doing things alone and while I'm not bothered most of the time - it's just the feeling that people aren't *there* for me anymore is what is making me question whether things will always be like this. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic...

As for melancholy moods and Musical Mondays I think I've found the perfect song for imagining you're floating mid air above a field of daisies or something nice like that. I wish I was doing it now. An occasional spattering of clouds have settled overhead and I'd really just love to lay down somewhere and make up stories in my head about them while listening to Mazzy Star and thinking about life.

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

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Sunday, September 09, 2007


I am oft asked about what brings people to my blog. Of course they always ask in a mildly condescending and amused way - like as if they don't quite believe anyone comes here at all. Well..okay fine who needs readers anyway? Especially that is when you have search engine stats to answer when you run out of real entries to write.

Do men find breast implants attractive?

I don't know. I take it that boobs in the presense of men are attractive so in that case, yes they do. Then again 99% of implants LOOK like implants. I find boobs attractive (yes, I do) but as soon as I can pick an implant I'm put off - so maybe men are too.

melbourne teen fuck

..but I thought Mark Philippoussis was in living in the US.

bow wow wow blogspot.com

I hate it when dogs have their own website.

what women really want anyway?

Ultimately? - A guy/girl who actually loves us so much they want to be with us forever instead of just one night (or even just appreciation)

Immediately? - chocolate.

I think we both might be just as unattainable I'm afraid.

I've been thinking about this. What an interesting concept - I wonder if being unattainable is a state of mind that exist within the unattainable or whether it exists in the mind of someone trying to attain them?

bucks night surprise stories.

surprise, the stripper has a penis!

art melbourne blog.

haha, wrong place.

small chested blogspot.

err...wrong place.

do guys love inverted nipples?

When it comes to nipples guys are known for either being a) perverted b) picky c) grateful d) all of the above. But let's ask them. Do you?

I don't want to haggle.

Join the club.


story of my life

do men like fake boobs.

definitely not on strippers with surprise penises.

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Thursday, September 06, 2007

I pity the foo

* Apparently GW is in the country. I don't want any Americans reading the old blog to take offense at this (because I do loves ya) but you know what I think is wrong with Australia? America.

You know what I think is right with Australia?

Eight ABC cast and crew members and three hired drivers have been charged with entering a restricted area without justification.

The group was arrested after staging a fake motorcade through Sydney's CBD and were stopped near the InterContinental Hotel where US President George W Bush is staying.

One of the Chaser crew was dressed as Osama bin Laden.

Taken from here

I laughed, and laughed and laughed. Then I had to stop to catch my breath and I laughed and laughed again. Bless their cotton socks - I have faith in my country again.

* Anyway, I'm sure you're all dying to know (haha, I know you're not but anyway..): The first thing she picked up on was women's issues - low self esteem, sexuality etc, job stress and real estate. She got out her rocks "looks like I'm going to need these for you" she said. I have to add here that all of my friends who have gone to see her have not had the "rocks" - I figure this is heavy artillery reserved for the total nutjobs like myself. Unfortunately she didn't stone me to death (which might have been a sweet relief) but instead placed them at certain points over my body. Don't ask me why. She pinpointed exactly (in detail) what was upsetting me about my job and implied that there was a transfer for me but not out of the school - which is also right on the money. The transfer is to where I belong - with the younger children and special ed kids. Well, yes - there's the choice I discussed a few entries back... I take this to mean where I've been leaning towards anyway, which is going back to teach inside a classroom and with the preps.

Then of course real estate. She went into many personal financial details that resulted from my father's death and gave me the low down on that... Anyway, the point is that things are very murky and in order for me to get anywhere in my life (and she basically put everything down to this) I have to sort out these issues first. I had a talk to my mother about these details - "who have you been speaking to?" she asked. Ohhh, just ...someone.

Then the wrong guy (description right on the money) - totally wrong - as in don't go there girlfriend or I will shank you.

Then the right guy who may I add say sounds completely and utterly wrong in every way possible. So wrong in fact that I've decided to avoid him should he actually come along.

I'd love YOUR interpretation on 'I see chains around him' because all I'm seeing is a Mr T type fellow with an open shirt, a whip in one hand and a prison tattoo on his butt that says "Bubba's Bitch". I pity the foo.. who marries him!

Oh and apparently "writing" is my thing. lol, who knew?

One interesting thing she said was "you're not getting what you deserve ..and I mean that in every way. You deserve a whole lot more". You know what? I fully agree.

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Monday, September 03, 2007

In-Between Lives

The psychic is back in town. I know, I know - I'm flakey like that. I don't believe in psychics willy nilly, in fact I've never been to one before this one but this one had a family connection so I knew I could trust them - and then last year when I went she knew something about me that no one else knew - in such great detail mind you that I was left with no doubt in my mind at all...

Anyway - suffice to say, she's very good and now she's back.

I've decided to go again.

I've thought about the last 12 months since I saw her. I've thought about it a lot. I don't know if much has changed and I can't help thinking that's another year wasted. Since I'm breathing down the neck of 30 here time is the very last thing I want to waste. In the last year I've gone through a few really low lows and quite frankly I can't think of any high points at all. Most of all I feel like a year ago I was at a crossroad and now ...I'm still there! I was speaking to Fashion Cousin who since her visit last year has dramatically changed her outlook on life - the positivity there is astounding. She's had a lot of people believe in her as well and that has helped. As a contrast I'm feeling tired and really old. Not so much in years but something deeper inside me feels very old, like I'm at the end of my life or something - which is not a cry for help btw, it's just how I feel. I don't know what that means except that I've stopped trying and that's not good. I suppose I felt like all the efforts I *did* make have gone to waste. How does one get their mojo back I wonder?

All I know is that I'm feeling frustrated because I don't know how to make things happen. I know that I have certain abilities and talents but not how to make them work for me. It's like I am this unopened present. Until you get to see what it is and play with it a present is just a box wrapped up tightly. It has potential, sure - but what good is potential if it's never realised?

Maybe I should ask the psychic about lotto numbers - money changes everything, right?

The song today reminds me of my friend S - The Cure always reminds me of her. We sang them a lot when we were in school. Come to think of it - we were doing a lot of singing full stop. Nevermind the fact that I'm particularly bad at singing I just liked doing it. It's funny - back then I was probably truer to myself than what I am now. That's not how it's supposed to be - you're supposed to be truer to yourself as you leave your awkward teen years behind. I feel much more awkward now than I ever did back then.

Anyway, In-between Days, because it's a favourite, and because it feels like I am in-between days at the moment. In-between lives. In-between thoughts. In-between decisions. In-between everything but two hot men. What? Who said that? Anyway, I'd be willing to bet you're all familiar with the song and if not, then I have to ask WHY the hell not? It's a goodie.

In-Between Days - The Cure

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Saturday, September 01, 2007

com pu pu pu pu pu pu

I'm the IT department's worst nightmare.

Judging a book by its cover you'd have to say I treat my lap top badly and I wouldn't disagree with that assessment either - but it's not the whole story. There are crumbs all over the thing and under the keys - sometimes they make little crunching sounds as I type - and I admit I've had a wine spillage or three on there. The monitor always has dust all over it, or if not dust then it's finger prints from where I point to the offending God of the CPU and curse or maybe even lip stain from where I've kissed it. The keyboard well okay - even I am a little ashamed of - the N has totally disappeared and in it's place are 5 slasher looking indents from where my fingernail has dug right into the keys. The two tips of the M peaks are the only part that still remain of that letter - while the S is half there, and half not. The G is starting to wear away. The H looks like an I and the E like a very high hyphen like it's trying to abdicate from the key. The A is simply a quirky looking diagonal line. And the L - well if you weren't versed in QWERTY then you'd have no idea what it was. K is fuzzy - C is hazy - O is more like a C than the C itself is and then there's V - who know WHAT it's trying to be? The right hand shift said hift - though it really should say shi t.

I use the laptop constantly. It's with me all day at work, I use it to type all my reports and do my planning (okay pretend to do my planning), or send various emails. I watch countless movies and television shows that won't play in my conventional DVD player on it - like The Kill Point and Weeds, Greek, Dexter, Hells Kitchen, Project Runway, The IT Crowd and other shows I've fallen in love with and we don't get here on commercial television. It's my first port of call in looking up addresses and phone numbers, names and other information. It's the first place I go when I feel like I've got something to say. I've fallen asleep on this thing, and woken up with the imprint of little square key shapes on my cheek - I've cried in front of it - laughed merrily at the many stories I've read on it - marveled at photos I've downloaded onto it - been happy, sad, frustrated, angry and impassioned by words written on it and felt it connected me to many friends who have been there when the chips have been well and truly down (thank you).

I may very well have tap-dancing fingers and eat while using it and curse while pointing right at the monitor and refuse to restart it using the conventional way - which is MUCH too slow mind you (Surely it's not JUST and on button is it?) but there's a reason. The shaking of IT department heads that goes on about me is not wrong, but they're not right either. It would be wrong to say that I treat my laptop badly and leave it at that. No. It's well loved, this thing. Like a teddy bear with half its fur rubbed off. Those are the best toys, don't you think? - They're the ones that looked disheveled because they've been loved and used so much.

I spied the laptop of a fellow teacher the other day - pristine and shiny it was. I was in a bind and had to borrow it but was left cold because it had none of the personality of mine. I could tell she had never reached forward and kissed the monitor, or the keypad when something really good came up on screen. And I know you guys are sitting there thinking what kind of idiot does that, ANY of that? but all I could think was God, this person must be some kind of boring.

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