[Miscellany]
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Rambling Crazy Lady Post
It's been a funny old contemplative weekend. I caught up with an old friend on Friday night. K is resplendent in the later stages of her pregnancy and I am torn with being so happy for her and with noticing my own utter lack in this department. Soon I will be the only one in that particular friendship group sans child. This is not exactly a welcome concept, mostly due to the fact that our conversations already revolve around poop and children and never around those philosophical and political arguments that we used to have and I wonder how much more baby centered they can become. It scares me for the state of our friendship, how much longer can I sustain not ever being asked how I am? Maybe soon I'll be able to slip away in the middle of a conversation and steal into the gin cupboard and no one will even notice. Even the crazy little voice inside my head is now telling me I need new friends that are at the same stage in life as I am that is (spinsters and lunatics).
K and I were still able to have a rational conversation on the account of the child still being in utero so we made the most of it by me moaning about my job and her looking at me pityingly and K discussing her fears about giving birth and me (unwisely) advising her to take all the drugs available (preferably at once). The birth thing sounds rather hard, scary and horrible but I can't pity it. It's a beautiful miracle and she is so fortunate to have the love in her life that has afforded this experience for her. I am trying to think of the fortunate things in my life. I keep coming up with 'at least I'm not homeless' or 'I never have to compromise over the remote control', which is absolutely true but also kind of sad if that is the best I can do.
EM whom I had dinner with last night is in my predicament but she has made peace with her childless, spinster state. I don't even know how you would begin to do that. I'm the opposite. Case in point - this is the photo I'm staring at right now as I type this. It lives on the wall of my study.
It's beautiful, no? It's a vision of (my) stupid, ridiculous hope and although I love looking at it I hate that I harbor these hopes still. It only makes it harder to move on with my life.
Despite that difference between EM and I, we are of one mind when it comes to the plight of the single lady in her 30s. I like having friends who completely understand what it is like not to want to go to weddings alone and lament on the unfairness of always giving the gift but never being the recipient of any. Also this:
Anyway we are now living in post-feminist glory (apparently) and a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle (or so I've heard) but my God, when will the wilderness years be over? I don't give a shit about being independent or see taking the garbage out as a 'win' in the division of labour. I don't see being single as freeing at all. In fact I think you are more restricted as a single person. I can't quit my job and 'find myself'. Who exactly is going to pay the mortgage when I do that? If I get sick, there is a series of complicated measures I have to go through in order to get through it. There's no depending on someone to pick up the slack when things go wrong. I am not so much fearing being eaten by Alsatians as I am planning it now.
As for breeding. I can almost literally hear the tick-tocking of that old biological clock ringing in my ears and I realise that this is it. Halle Berry may be able to get away with having a baby in her late 40s but I won't be able to. It's now or never and this scares me because... well now is ...NOW. I have thought about this a bit and I have my own set of morals here about the subject but is it selfish to 'go it alone?' I'm not counting it out completely, but let's just say I'm not making any appointments to the clinic either...
I'm not even sure what the point of this entry is. I was going to write about the beauty in the passage of time as symbolised in seeing Before Midnight with K but um... I guess not. Sorry about that.
K and I were still able to have a rational conversation on the account of the child still being in utero so we made the most of it by me moaning about my job and her looking at me pityingly and K discussing her fears about giving birth and me (unwisely) advising her to take all the drugs available (preferably at once). The birth thing sounds rather hard, scary and horrible but I can't pity it. It's a beautiful miracle and she is so fortunate to have the love in her life that has afforded this experience for her. I am trying to think of the fortunate things in my life. I keep coming up with 'at least I'm not homeless' or 'I never have to compromise over the remote control', which is absolutely true but also kind of sad if that is the best I can do.
EM whom I had dinner with last night is in my predicament but she has made peace with her childless, spinster state. I don't even know how you would begin to do that. I'm the opposite. Case in point - this is the photo I'm staring at right now as I type this. It lives on the wall of my study.
It's beautiful, no? It's a vision of (my) stupid, ridiculous hope and although I love looking at it I hate that I harbor these hopes still. It only makes it harder to move on with my life.
Despite that difference between EM and I, we are of one mind when it comes to the plight of the single lady in her 30s. I like having friends who completely understand what it is like not to want to go to weddings alone and lament on the unfairness of always giving the gift but never being the recipient of any. Also this:
Anyway we are now living in post-feminist glory (apparently) and a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle (or so I've heard) but my God, when will the wilderness years be over? I don't give a shit about being independent or see taking the garbage out as a 'win' in the division of labour. I don't see being single as freeing at all. In fact I think you are more restricted as a single person. I can't quit my job and 'find myself'. Who exactly is going to pay the mortgage when I do that? If I get sick, there is a series of complicated measures I have to go through in order to get through it. There's no depending on someone to pick up the slack when things go wrong. I am not so much fearing being eaten by Alsatians as I am planning it now.
As for breeding. I can almost literally hear the tick-tocking of that old biological clock ringing in my ears and I realise that this is it. Halle Berry may be able to get away with having a baby in her late 40s but I won't be able to. It's now or never and this scares me because... well now is ...NOW. I have thought about this a bit and I have my own set of morals here about the subject but is it selfish to 'go it alone?' I'm not counting it out completely, but let's just say I'm not making any appointments to the clinic either...
I'm not even sure what the point of this entry is. I was going to write about the beauty in the passage of time as symbolised in seeing Before Midnight with K but um... I guess not. Sorry about that.
Labels: babies, dirty femmo, friends, girls and women, messy women, rant, singletons, there is no life after babies for the mothers in the equation but maybe they don't mind so much anyway, what women want, women
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
To Everything There is a Season
I was supposed to be doing some work on the weekend but somehow ended up at the movies instead. Movies are the vice I always give in to, even if there is a lot of other stuff that needs to be done. The movie we saw was The Way Way Back - a vacation story about a blended family who takes a trip to the beach for the summer. But really, this Duncan's story, an awkward 14 year old who is dealing with being bullied by his Mum's smarmy new boyfriend and trying to find connection in a world where he feels so isolated. I suppose this is a typical teenage story. Didn't we all feel like that at some stage?
To say this movie struck a chord with me would be underplaying it a bit. I didn't particularly identify with Duncan but I understood him and he gave me something that I just love getting when I go to the movies; a realisation.
The first scene of the movie is the car trip. A conversation between Duncan and his Mother's boyfriend Trent breaks the silence leading Trent to question Duncan about what score he would give himself out of 10. When Duncan reluctantly gives himself a 6, Trent gleefully tells him he's a 3. This is not a good beginning for Duncan. He's 14. His mother is going out with an arsehole. He has absolutely no power, no friends, no life and nothing to look forward to. He feels unwanted, alone, awkward and lonely but something incredible happened to Duncan on his summer vacation: He bloomed.
I like to think that everyone has a blooming moment. Perhaps yours happened at 14 and aren't you lucky that it happened so early if it did? Maybe your bloom happened as a senior in High School or after you left and got a job. Perhaps it was meeting the love of your life that did it. Maybe it was getting your license or going overseas or doing Tough Mudder. I don't know - I guess there are no rules to this kind of stuff. A time to every purpose...
Duncan's "time" happened on summer vacation while holidaying with a family whom he felt didn't want him. One day, while at a cafe Duncan randomly connects with the eccentric and immature water park owner Owen, who offers Duncan a job for the summer. Duncan is excited by the prospect of spending time away from his family and accepts immediately. At the water park Duncan finds himself. The mavericks who work there - whom you can also imagine may have at one time felt as Duncan does - accept him totally as one of them and Duncan responds in the only way that someone completely accepted can and that is, he becomes his true self.
Maslow had a theory of self-actualisation that somehow fits into this story. Although the threory was widely contested in the psychological community I still love to this day. There is something so Earthy and real about it. It feels real and that's enough for me. Basically, in order to be self-actualised there is a hierarchy of needs that must be met. The needs are graduated like a pyramid each step moving away from the physical and basic and into the spiritual and emotional (from food, shelter to love, confidence and belonging). It isn't until all your needs are met that you can be self-actualised. I think sometimes people confuse self-actualisation with success. You can be a 'success' and 'functional' and 'loving' and still not be self-actualised and I suppose if that's how you see self-actualisation the hierarchy of needs really doesn't make sense. IMO Self-actualisation is a state of mind, a meaningfulness one finds in life that goes beyond the material and into the soul. Successful and loving people don't necessarily have those qualities (though, they might) and maybe self-actualised people don't necessarily meed success as a material form either. Do I think you can skip steps and still reach the top though? Perhaps..
I was reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs while watching The Way Way Back. Duncan had the basic needs but not the emotional ones. At the water park he found a sense of belonging and connection among people who accepted and embraced him. He let go. He bloomed. He stepped up. He defied Trent's assertion that he was a "3".
I realised that apart from our basic needs there are a couple of things that might help us to become the best person we can be:
1) A place (no matter how insignificant) where we can be completely ourselves and accepted for who we are by other people.
2) A champion who will stand up for us when we can't stand up for ourselves.
Duncan's family saw him as a 3. In their stifling presence he was awkward, shy, weird and moody but that's not who he really was. At the water park, with Owen championing him, he became a 10. He found his champion and his special place and he left that sleepy summer town behind not a better person (as that would suggest he needed 'bettering') but a person who was allowed to bloom, finally. It was his time.
I guess I've been struggling with being seen as a 3, seeing myself this way too. I hold out hope for a champion and a place to bloom and moving up that pyramid - don't we all?
Although it's not quite Monday anymore, this one organically came up out of this post and so it must be its time. I love this brand of 60s folk rock and whenever I play this song it seems to always be the right song to play. I guess that Old Testament is not all fury and hell after all.
Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds
To say this movie struck a chord with me would be underplaying it a bit. I didn't particularly identify with Duncan but I understood him and he gave me something that I just love getting when I go to the movies; a realisation.
The first scene of the movie is the car trip. A conversation between Duncan and his Mother's boyfriend Trent breaks the silence leading Trent to question Duncan about what score he would give himself out of 10. When Duncan reluctantly gives himself a 6, Trent gleefully tells him he's a 3. This is not a good beginning for Duncan. He's 14. His mother is going out with an arsehole. He has absolutely no power, no friends, no life and nothing to look forward to. He feels unwanted, alone, awkward and lonely but something incredible happened to Duncan on his summer vacation: He bloomed.
I like to think that everyone has a blooming moment. Perhaps yours happened at 14 and aren't you lucky that it happened so early if it did? Maybe your bloom happened as a senior in High School or after you left and got a job. Perhaps it was meeting the love of your life that did it. Maybe it was getting your license or going overseas or doing Tough Mudder. I don't know - I guess there are no rules to this kind of stuff. A time to every purpose...
Duncan's "time" happened on summer vacation while holidaying with a family whom he felt didn't want him. One day, while at a cafe Duncan randomly connects with the eccentric and immature water park owner Owen, who offers Duncan a job for the summer. Duncan is excited by the prospect of spending time away from his family and accepts immediately. At the water park Duncan finds himself. The mavericks who work there - whom you can also imagine may have at one time felt as Duncan does - accept him totally as one of them and Duncan responds in the only way that someone completely accepted can and that is, he becomes his true self.
Maslow had a theory of self-actualisation that somehow fits into this story. Although the threory was widely contested in the psychological community I still love to this day. There is something so Earthy and real about it. It feels real and that's enough for me. Basically, in order to be self-actualised there is a hierarchy of needs that must be met. The needs are graduated like a pyramid each step moving away from the physical and basic and into the spiritual and emotional (from food, shelter to love, confidence and belonging). It isn't until all your needs are met that you can be self-actualised. I think sometimes people confuse self-actualisation with success. You can be a 'success' and 'functional' and 'loving' and still not be self-actualised and I suppose if that's how you see self-actualisation the hierarchy of needs really doesn't make sense. IMO Self-actualisation is a state of mind, a meaningfulness one finds in life that goes beyond the material and into the soul. Successful and loving people don't necessarily have those qualities (though, they might) and maybe self-actualised people don't necessarily meed success as a material form either. Do I think you can skip steps and still reach the top though? Perhaps..
I was reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs while watching The Way Way Back. Duncan had the basic needs but not the emotional ones. At the water park he found a sense of belonging and connection among people who accepted and embraced him. He let go. He bloomed. He stepped up. He defied Trent's assertion that he was a "3".
I realised that apart from our basic needs there are a couple of things that might help us to become the best person we can be:
1) A place (no matter how insignificant) where we can be completely ourselves and accepted for who we are by other people.
2) A champion who will stand up for us when we can't stand up for ourselves.
Duncan's family saw him as a 3. In their stifling presence he was awkward, shy, weird and moody but that's not who he really was. At the water park, with Owen championing him, he became a 10. He found his champion and his special place and he left that sleepy summer town behind not a better person (as that would suggest he needed 'bettering') but a person who was allowed to bloom, finally. It was his time.
I guess I've been struggling with being seen as a 3, seeing myself this way too. I hold out hope for a champion and a place to bloom and moving up that pyramid - don't we all?
Although it's not quite Monday anymore, this one organically came up out of this post and so it must be its time. I love this brand of 60s folk rock and whenever I play this song it seems to always be the right song to play. I guess that Old Testament is not all fury and hell after all.
Turn, Turn, Turn - The Byrds
Labels: 60s, cinema, film, friends, life, life and art, movies, music, musical monday, musings, self help, theory, thoughts, time, wonderings
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
Public Versus Private
I've been thinking a lot about this blog and what the purpose of it is.
I wonder a lot if I should be locking it up and keeping it as a place to spew private and seedy bile only. I toy with deleting all the non-musical posts and keeping it specific and I ponder living a life alongside a blog that has an identity such as "cooking blog" or "teacher tips". Sometimes I have an overwhelming urge to just throw the address out to everyone I know and let them all feast upon me and then I wonder why I don't?
Clearly this is a public space - and yet it's so unbelievably private at the same time. There are posts that are more private than others, of course, but some people (you) get to read them all - private or not they are there for you to read. I've made the choice for them to be there. So what am I hiding from those in my everyday life exactly? What aspect of myself am I protecting by not being open?
This notion of private and public in the online world is very interesting to me - and not just because I'm questioning my role in it. There are things that people who happen across this blog know about me that no one else knows and there are things that you will never know because they are part of my public profile (avatar? and now it is complete, the avatar is not only online). I'm not sure which is more real, but often I think it's this person here - the one clicking at the keys right now... but perhaps not. Maybe it's the person that attends parent/teacher meetings and lends a listening ear to a friend in need? I especially wonder about my need to be noticed versus my need to feel private and protected and how that affects this public/private dichotomy of my identity. I wonder if everyone or anyone else in the blog world feels like this too or if it's just me.
If I threw open the doors of this blog then what would it become? Would it change? Would I? And is that a good thing?
Is your blog truly public?
How's that treating you?
I wonder a lot if I should be locking it up and keeping it as a place to spew private and seedy bile only. I toy with deleting all the non-musical posts and keeping it specific and I ponder living a life alongside a blog that has an identity such as "cooking blog" or "teacher tips". Sometimes I have an overwhelming urge to just throw the address out to everyone I know and let them all feast upon me and then I wonder why I don't?
Clearly this is a public space - and yet it's so unbelievably private at the same time. There are posts that are more private than others, of course, but some people (you) get to read them all - private or not they are there for you to read. I've made the choice for them to be there. So what am I hiding from those in my everyday life exactly? What aspect of myself am I protecting by not being open?
This notion of private and public in the online world is very interesting to me - and not just because I'm questioning my role in it. There are things that people who happen across this blog know about me that no one else knows and there are things that you will never know because they are part of my public profile (avatar? and now it is complete, the avatar is not only online). I'm not sure which is more real, but often I think it's this person here - the one clicking at the keys right now... but perhaps not. Maybe it's the person that attends parent/teacher meetings and lends a listening ear to a friend in need? I especially wonder about my need to be noticed versus my need to feel private and protected and how that affects this public/private dichotomy of my identity. I wonder if everyone or anyone else in the blog world feels like this too or if it's just me.
If I threw open the doors of this blog then what would it become? Would it change? Would I? And is that a good thing?
Is your blog truly public?
How's that treating you?
Labels: blogs, friends, internet as village community, musings, Now I'm writing a blog post about it. Bizarre., private, public, questions, secrets, thinking, thoughts, wonderings, writing
Monday, April 04, 2011
All aboard!
MVOR, (being so much more reasonable than I) made an interesting remark the other day.
We were talking about personal relationships and I was relating a story about somebody that I was (am) on the verge of cutting out of my life. She interrupted my petty diatribe to tell me about the train theory - or rather, the train carriage theory of personal relationships.
Basically the people with normal personal relationships keep them organised in a kind of train carriage system. Some people are very close to us and we hold them dear - our immediate family or spouse, children etc and they go in the first carriage. The next carriage has our next closest people - our best friends, perhaps extended family etc. Then so on and so on as the carriages get further and further away from the funnel and down the track until you get right to the end where it's people you see every few years at a reunion.
Not everyone can be in first class you see - and you can't treat everyone like they are in first class either. It would tire you out and indeed they would take you for granted in the end - especially if you're right down the end of their carriage system. The people with successful personal relationships with others have different expectations and rules for the people who live in first, second, third or last class. If we are going to treat first class differently (by offering our most important asset - our hearts) then we should expect that they also behave differently toward us than those in 3rd or 4th class.
There are times though, in everyone's life where people can move between carriages depending on our personal needs at the time. For instance - perhaps you get married. Your spouse, being so close to your heart is in first class exactly where they should be. However, if you were going through a tough period and considered separating then they would move out of the carriage and into another one further down. Perhaps a few years later you get divorced or perhaps you decided you would never see them again. Well then they would move right back down and perhaps off the train altogether. That's life.
That's how things work for those of you lucky enough not to need an external voice of reason.
Apparently, I don't have a carriage system.
I have one carriage: First class.
Once people fuck with me - they exit first class and have nowhere else to go. I watch them tumble onto the tracks below as I speed on away. Sayonara!
MVOR says that I need a carriage system in order to organise people better. Apparently I don't need to execute everyone to hurts me. Instead I can move them down the carriage system so that my expectations of them change as well as my feelings about them - without having to feel angry or hurt for a long time etc.
Easier said than done.
What's your first carriage like?
Meanwhile Musical Monday comes in the form of a mash up. Usually I loathe Mash ups with a passion but this one is highly ace. It's Blondie's Heart of Glass and Arcade Fire's Sprawl 2. It's an excellent, excellent, excellent song made up of two stellar tunes.
Enjoy!
Labels: friends, mash up, musical monday, MVOR, train carriage theory
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sharing the love
It's gotten to the stage where I've known my newest friends for 10 years.
wow.... just wow.
One such group of old chums of mine met for pre-dinner drinks at a rather self conscious venue in the city the other night and talk, turned to how we make our money - which is hilarious since none of us have any money! However, apparently two of us have share portfolios. SHARES! I could hardly believe it when they started talking about the all ordinaries index like they knew what it was. I use that segment in the news to double check the couch for any stray pieces of chocolate (sad but true) and could barely keep up with the conversation. I was under the impression that only salt and pepper haired men who are trying to reclaim their youth by riding vespas had share portfolios, but clearly I am wrong. Apparently 30 somethings are doing it too. In fact I felt rather left out and behind the times with my common place mortgage and pathetic teacher salary. It's all about shares now, and nobody thought to tell me.
I'm feeling rather like I do when people say they are fans of Ke$ha (should there be an exclamation mark at the end?) and her music. I kind of think wow, I didn't consider her a person worthy of thinking as a musician, let alone someone who would have a serious fan who would spend money on an album. That's kind of like me and shares. It just never crossed my mind to consider them as anything more than an annoyance taking up a whole precious section of the newspaper that could otherwise be devoted to something important, like movies or Charlie Sheen.
I don't know many people read this thing but certainly a great deal more than comment - so please let me know if you play the market. I need to know where I stand in this thing.
wow.... just wow.
One such group of old chums of mine met for pre-dinner drinks at a rather self conscious venue in the city the other night and talk, turned to how we make our money - which is hilarious since none of us have any money! However, apparently two of us have share portfolios. SHARES! I could hardly believe it when they started talking about the all ordinaries index like they knew what it was. I use that segment in the news to double check the couch for any stray pieces of chocolate (sad but true) and could barely keep up with the conversation. I was under the impression that only salt and pepper haired men who are trying to reclaim their youth by riding vespas had share portfolios, but clearly I am wrong. Apparently 30 somethings are doing it too. In fact I felt rather left out and behind the times with my common place mortgage and pathetic teacher salary. It's all about shares now, and nobody thought to tell me.
I'm feeling rather like I do when people say they are fans of Ke$ha (should there be an exclamation mark at the end?) and her music. I kind of think wow, I didn't consider her a person worthy of thinking as a musician, let alone someone who would have a serious fan who would spend money on an album. That's kind of like me and shares. It just never crossed my mind to consider them as anything more than an annoyance taking up a whole precious section of the newspaper that could otherwise be devoted to something important, like movies or Charlie Sheen.
I don't know many people read this thing but certainly a great deal more than comment - so please let me know if you play the market. I need to know where I stand in this thing.
Labels: friends, girls and women, grown ups, money, why do people get so touchy when it comes to talking about these things?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Death Cloud
1) I started typing out my Musical Monday post last night
2) then I fell asleep in front of the computer half way through
3) then I had a DREAM that I finished the blog
4) then I woke up and turned off the computer satisfied in my great blogging feats.
5) NOW I've just logged in to find that clearly I have lost my mind. There was no blog. There was no Musical Monday.
Perhaps my life is being directed by David Lynch? I dunno.
I'm in a bit of a muddle at the moment. There are lots of muddles about... puddles of muddles in fact but this one is tiny, petty and probably blog friendly...
I made arrangements to go see an author speak about his work this week. A couple of us from school decided we would go, because clearly you're not a real teacher unless you do dorky things like go see authors speak.. Anyway the two people I planned to go with are people I'm friendly with. One other person has now been invited.
We hate each other.
I hate him. He hates me. It's mutual. I don't want to go into it but in the end I made a formal complaint about him to management. When it comes to me, he is not good people. I want to go to this event but I am far too exhausted to draw battle lines and build moats/stone walls in order to protect myself.
Mutual friend would not be happy if I didn't go, but I don't want to spend my personal time with this other guy. Hell, if he's in the staff room I make sure I am not! THAT'S how far I go to avoid him..
Is it immature of me to pike out on the night?
What would you do?
As for Musical Monday. I am LOVING this song:
Death Cloud - Cloud Control
Musical Monday
2) then I fell asleep in front of the computer half way through
3) then I had a DREAM that I finished the blog
4) then I woke up and turned off the computer satisfied in my great blogging feats.
5) NOW I've just logged in to find that clearly I have lost my mind. There was no blog. There was no Musical Monday.
Perhaps my life is being directed by David Lynch? I dunno.
I'm in a bit of a muddle at the moment. There are lots of muddles about... puddles of muddles in fact but this one is tiny, petty and probably blog friendly...
I made arrangements to go see an author speak about his work this week. A couple of us from school decided we would go, because clearly you're not a real teacher unless you do dorky things like go see authors speak.. Anyway the two people I planned to go with are people I'm friendly with. One other person has now been invited.
We hate each other.
I hate him. He hates me. It's mutual. I don't want to go into it but in the end I made a formal complaint about him to management. When it comes to me, he is not good people. I want to go to this event but I am far too exhausted to draw battle lines and build moats/stone walls in order to protect myself.
Mutual friend would not be happy if I didn't go, but I don't want to spend my personal time with this other guy. Hell, if he's in the staff room I make sure I am not! THAT'S how far I go to avoid him..
Is it immature of me to pike out on the night?
What would you do?
As for Musical Monday. I am LOVING this song:
Death Cloud - Cloud Control
Musical Monday
Labels: chicken, enemies, friends, musical monday, stressed teachers
Monday, November 15, 2010
Your Ghost
I was talking to a friend recently.
She is dealing with a hit and run.
That is: a relationship broken via the route of complete silence. One minute you are together and the next he is living as part of the witness protection program somewhere completely unreachable.
I know a lot of men who have done this - it must be in the DNA to pick up and disappear. Perhaps it's an Australian thing.. I don't know..
The thing with the old hit and run though is that it drives the other person completely crazy. You see, they have no idea what they've done wrong AND they have no way of finding out because "the runner" has cut off all contact - so what do they do? They send message after message after message after message after message until you (yes YOU, in the witness protection program) have no choice but to proclaim "She's totally psychotic! See what I have to deal with? I'm so glad I've left that nutjob behind" - and yes, to the untrained eye, yes "the runnee" really IS acting psychotic, but who wouldn't be?
The thing is, she's simply a normal reaction to a fucked up situation (to quote a famous movie). The psychotic is created and then branded. Convenient.
Anyway, I write this because of the unsung hero in all this: The Best Friend - namely: Moi.
...and what has Moi been doing for the last few days? Well Moi has been a patient ear, a faithful advice giver, a sympathiser, an empath, a plan deviser, a bored recipient, a person that has developed a very prominent nervous twitch. All I really want to say is "fuck him, he sucks - find someone good. Please for the love of God, FIND SOMEONE BETTER!" But I, like all women cling to the unreasonable hope that love will conquer all.
And there you have it. I really should be writing reports but of course I'm listening to songs that are really very good but don't get me motivated at all:
Your Ghost - Kristin Hersh (Feat. Michael Stipe)
Musical Monday
She is dealing with a hit and run.
That is: a relationship broken via the route of complete silence. One minute you are together and the next he is living as part of the witness protection program somewhere completely unreachable.
I know a lot of men who have done this - it must be in the DNA to pick up and disappear. Perhaps it's an Australian thing.. I don't know..
The thing with the old hit and run though is that it drives the other person completely crazy. You see, they have no idea what they've done wrong AND they have no way of finding out because "the runner" has cut off all contact - so what do they do? They send message after message after message after message after message until you (yes YOU, in the witness protection program) have no choice but to proclaim "She's totally psychotic! See what I have to deal with? I'm so glad I've left that nutjob behind" - and yes, to the untrained eye, yes "the runnee" really IS acting psychotic, but who wouldn't be?
The thing is, she's simply a normal reaction to a fucked up situation (to quote a famous movie). The psychotic is created and then branded. Convenient.
Anyway, I write this because of the unsung hero in all this: The Best Friend - namely: Moi.
...and what has Moi been doing for the last few days? Well Moi has been a patient ear, a faithful advice giver, a sympathiser, an empath, a plan deviser, a bored recipient, a person that has developed a very prominent nervous twitch. All I really want to say is "fuck him, he sucks - find someone good. Please for the love of God, FIND SOMEONE BETTER!" But I, like all women cling to the unreasonable hope that love will conquer all.
And there you have it. I really should be writing reports but of course I'm listening to songs that are really very good but don't get me motivated at all:
Your Ghost - Kristin Hersh (Feat. Michael Stipe)
Musical Monday
Labels: friends, musical monday, rant, what men don't see
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Great Husband Lend out?
Since I've purchased my own little slice of land (or rather, no land - all house) I've been subject to the rather strange phenomena on behalf of my female friends of the 'husband lend out'. In all things domesticated I have been offered a slightly worn 30-something to 'fix it' for me. I certainly haven't asked for it, complained about the lack of it in my own life or even secretly wished for it (okay maybe I have... they're just so damn handy around the house!) - even so, they have been offered seemingly out of nowhere.
The thing is, and this is what keeps me from taking up the offer... I'm doubting said handymen know anything about this deal at all. They're being lent out without prior consent. I got to thinking... Is this a normal occurrence? Do husbands/live in boyfriends and other strapping blokes wake up to lady friends randomly saying err..[insert male name here] I promised my best friend you'd go round and fix her leaking tap today. Hop to it! Is this something that happens often?
Girls, do you do this to your men? Does it happen via prior agreement? And do you accept the offer when it's laid on the table like that?
Guys, does it happen to you? What do you get hired out for? And do you resent it?
The thing is, and this is what keeps me from taking up the offer... I'm doubting said handymen know anything about this deal at all. They're being lent out without prior consent. I got to thinking... Is this a normal occurrence? Do husbands/live in boyfriends and other strapping blokes wake up to lady friends randomly saying err..[insert male name here] I promised my best friend you'd go round and fix her leaking tap today. Hop to it! Is this something that happens often?
Girls, do you do this to your men? Does it happen via prior agreement? And do you accept the offer when it's laid on the table like that?
Guys, does it happen to you? What do you get hired out for? And do you resent it?
Labels: friends, ladies, lend out, men, musings, questions, what women want, wonderings
Sunday, July 20, 2008
the soul of a quotegirl was created below
bro - Def Leopard is better than Led Zeppelin.
me: What the fuck? Are you shitting me?
bro - I am being completely serious. Def Leopard is a better band any day.
me: You are seriously on drugs. That is the most fucked up think you've ever said. "Pour some Sugar on Me" Versus "Dazed and Confused". ummmm... no contest.
bro - no. They're just better. End of fucking story.
me: YOU ARE A BOGAN! That is completely ridiculous. Are you saying that "Rocket..yeahhhhh" changed musical history like "Stairway" did? Come on. You're making me angry. I just don't get it. I DON'T UNDERSTAND how you can say something like that! You're wrong. It's wrong!
bro - they're a better band. It's a simple fact.
me: It's not a fact. You're an idiot: That's a fact!
[Thoughts?]
#2 - I have to tell you what my friends gave to each other for their wedding. They had this bit in the ceremony where the bride and groom exchanged presents.
me: aww..very sweet.
#2 - ...yeah, sort of. He's obsessed with car racing so she got him this wall hanging that's actually 3D of a racing car.
me: oooh kay, if that rocks his boat
#2 - At home the bride has is one of those people that has about a million stuffed toys on her bed.
me: oh my god, those people scare me
#2 - Exactly, so for her present he got her a 7 foot tall teddy bear. Like the ones you can buy in those flower shops at the hospital..but GIANT SIZED.
me: haha, oh shit. That would ruin the fuck out of any decor at home. I mean where do you keep it?
R - ...Hey, then did the husband grab a knife and slice the giant teddy in the stomach revealing all the other stuffed toys?
me: hahahaha, that is the best..Then the stuffed toys end up killing everyone at the wedding!!
R - Just like the horse of Troy.
me: *crying* I wish I was at that wedding!
[Now that is a wedding that someone needs to have!]
bro: if you could shoot any person down in that foot court which one would you choose?
me: *looking around and thinking*
me: *sees bloke pulling up his t-shirt to show the ladies his toned tummy*
me: oh my god...
bro: no, no, I know exactly who you are going to say but *I* want to kill him!
me: No way! He's mine. I get to kill him
bro: No way, he dies. I will use all my bullets on him.
me: I wanna do it! I want the honour!
bro: Let me!
[yes, we truly play this game in public]
fashion Cousin - C got back from her Honeymoon the other day and I was talking to her on the phone.
me: ohh how great! I love her. Did she have a wonderful time?
FC - yeah, I think so. She was talking more about her wedding though. She didn't want to be mean about it but she said "*A*, you know - I really don't get Australians sometimes"
me: haha, what? What happened?
FC - well apparently for her wedding she got some gifts that were completely inappropriate for a wedding and all of the weird ones came from Aussies.
me: oh lord, what did they give her?
FC - okay, well she said that this couple went in together and got her two Hankies. ...Just two... HANKIES.
me: WHAT THE HELL? That's ridiculous...Were they personally embroidered in gold? Were they rare materials? ..I don't ... Um... what?
FC - Exactly. C didn't understand how anyone would give something like that. Then she got this little box and guess what was in the little box?
me: voucher for a stay in a nice hotel in the city?
FC - One spoon and one knife.
me: *laughing uncontrollably* ... I don't understand. Was it solid silver and ...like a special server or some kind?
FC - no...just one normal dinner setting of ONE spoon and ONE knife. It came from two people. I don't understand.
me: Do people not know how weddings work. You give a gift of roughly the same value as the cost for your place at the table. It's manners. Everyone knows this. If you're povo, no one is going to care but if you can afford a new dress or shoes then you can afford to give a present to your friends on their wedding day!
FC - THANK YOU! I thought I was going crazy for a second.
[okay seriously, this is how I see it. If you are invited to a wedding you fork out for a nice present of roughly the same value as your place at the reception. If you are a couple it doesn't mean you get to flake out. Two places for dinner = putting in a little extra. Am I so far off the mark here?
E - After this trip, I've run out of excuses, girls. I'm going to have to... you know.
me: oh my god.
E - ..squeeze one out.
me: !!!
E - I know.
[..and you boys think we're trapping YOU into it!! pffffffft!]
E - Did you know there are 30% more single women in our age bracket than single men? I'm feeling the pinch.
me: what the hell are you talking about, you're MARRIED!
E - It's a sympathy pain.
[Am not sure if that works.]
Me: I went to see Mamma Mia the other day
bro - I can't believe you went to see that! You suck.
me: Yeah, it was Mamma Shitta.
bro - that didn't work.
me: meh...I tried.
[should it have been Mamma Merda?]
Here's one that is about as far away from ABBA, Led Zepp and Def Leopard as you can get. Just, I don't know what to say about it that would do it justice so let me just play it. I'm sure you know the song. It's incredible.
Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain.
me: What the fuck? Are you shitting me?
bro - I am being completely serious. Def Leopard is a better band any day.
me: You are seriously on drugs. That is the most fucked up think you've ever said. "Pour some Sugar on Me" Versus "Dazed and Confused". ummmm... no contest.
bro - no. They're just better. End of fucking story.
me: YOU ARE A BOGAN! That is completely ridiculous. Are you saying that "Rocket..yeahhhhh" changed musical history like "Stairway" did? Come on. You're making me angry. I just don't get it. I DON'T UNDERSTAND how you can say something like that! You're wrong. It's wrong!
bro - they're a better band. It's a simple fact.
me: It's not a fact. You're an idiot: That's a fact!
[Thoughts?]
#2 - I have to tell you what my friends gave to each other for their wedding. They had this bit in the ceremony where the bride and groom exchanged presents.
me: aww..very sweet.
#2 - ...yeah, sort of. He's obsessed with car racing so she got him this wall hanging that's actually 3D of a racing car.
me: oooh kay, if that rocks his boat
#2 - At home the bride has is one of those people that has about a million stuffed toys on her bed.
me: oh my god, those people scare me
#2 - Exactly, so for her present he got her a 7 foot tall teddy bear. Like the ones you can buy in those flower shops at the hospital..but GIANT SIZED.
me: haha, oh shit. That would ruin the fuck out of any decor at home. I mean where do you keep it?
R - ...Hey, then did the husband grab a knife and slice the giant teddy in the stomach revealing all the other stuffed toys?
me: hahahaha, that is the best..Then the stuffed toys end up killing everyone at the wedding!!
R - Just like the horse of Troy.
me: *crying* I wish I was at that wedding!
[Now that is a wedding that someone needs to have!]
bro: if you could shoot any person down in that foot court which one would you choose?
me: *looking around and thinking*
me: *sees bloke pulling up his t-shirt to show the ladies his toned tummy*
me: oh my god...
bro: no, no, I know exactly who you are going to say but *I* want to kill him!
me: No way! He's mine. I get to kill him
bro: No way, he dies. I will use all my bullets on him.
me: I wanna do it! I want the honour!
bro: Let me!
[yes, we truly play this game in public]
fashion Cousin - C got back from her Honeymoon the other day and I was talking to her on the phone.
me: ohh how great! I love her. Did she have a wonderful time?
FC - yeah, I think so. She was talking more about her wedding though. She didn't want to be mean about it but she said "*A*, you know - I really don't get Australians sometimes"
me: haha, what? What happened?
FC - well apparently for her wedding she got some gifts that were completely inappropriate for a wedding and all of the weird ones came from Aussies.
me: oh lord, what did they give her?
FC - okay, well she said that this couple went in together and got her two Hankies. ...Just two... HANKIES.
me: WHAT THE HELL? That's ridiculous...Were they personally embroidered in gold? Were they rare materials? ..I don't ... Um... what?
FC - Exactly. C didn't understand how anyone would give something like that. Then she got this little box and guess what was in the little box?
me: voucher for a stay in a nice hotel in the city?
FC - One spoon and one knife.
me: *laughing uncontrollably* ... I don't understand. Was it solid silver and ...like a special server or some kind?
FC - no...just one normal dinner setting of ONE spoon and ONE knife. It came from two people. I don't understand.
me: Do people not know how weddings work. You give a gift of roughly the same value as the cost for your place at the table. It's manners. Everyone knows this. If you're povo, no one is going to care but if you can afford a new dress or shoes then you can afford to give a present to your friends on their wedding day!
FC - THANK YOU! I thought I was going crazy for a second.
[okay seriously, this is how I see it. If you are invited to a wedding you fork out for a nice present of roughly the same value as your place at the reception. If you are a couple it doesn't mean you get to flake out. Two places for dinner = putting in a little extra. Am I so far off the mark here?
E - After this trip, I've run out of excuses, girls. I'm going to have to... you know.
me: oh my god.
E - ..squeeze one out.
me: !!!
E - I know.
[..and you boys think we're trapping YOU into it!! pffffffft!]
E - Did you know there are 30% more single women in our age bracket than single men? I'm feeling the pinch.
me: what the hell are you talking about, you're MARRIED!
E - It's a sympathy pain.
[Am not sure if that works.]
Me: I went to see Mamma Mia the other day
bro - I can't believe you went to see that! You suck.
me: Yeah, it was Mamma Shitta.
bro - that didn't work.
me: meh...I tried.
[should it have been Mamma Merda?]
Here's one that is about as far away from ABBA, Led Zepp and Def Leopard as you can get. Just, I don't know what to say about it that would do it justice so let me just play it. I'm sure you know the song. It's incredible.
Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain.
Labels: bro, defining moments in musical history, foreign weddings, friends, music, musical monday, quotegirl, singletons
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Brothers and Sistas.
Oh dear, so it seems that even the Reality Tele Gods could not save Big Brother Oz and the show has been axed! God knows what I'm going to do to occupy my time for three months out of every year from now on. Perhaps I will have to get a life or something. In its heyday it was an excellent show. Well, I loved it anyway. In recent years even *I* have to admit that the show has been rather abysmal (though I always manage to get a few blog posts out of it).
It's a bit of a weird reaction but I'm angry at the producers for not being able to get it right and keep it on the air. It's a bloody simple show: Put people in the house: watch the people in the house. It's not rocket science! The producers forgot the cardinal rule and that is - don't patronise your audience. By marketing to the tweens they assumed that they could get away with anything; including housemates that were rather plastic in look and personality. This effectively lost them viewers who actually cared about watching real-ish people in the house (because who wants to watch plastics?) and they were left with the tweens who are fickle and who lose interest quickly (and they did, of course).
Arguably the best part of Big Brother this year has been the show Big Mouth, which is a weekly talk show that had a panel of ex-housemates talking about the show. Simple concept + good panelists + time slot where they could talk about anything = great show. Meanwhile the house itself was suffering under over-production + too many gimmicks + housemates that are too young and dumb = craaaaap.
I'm really gonna miss bitching about all those housemates :(
In other news I went out for dinner the other night with #1 and F. It is the first time in literally TWO YEARS that we have been in the same room together without the children.
(from wiki)
Two years ago Italy won the World Cup.
Two years ago Mel Gibson was pulled up for drink driving and then let loose in an anti-semitic diatribe and called a lady-cop "sugar tits".
Two years ago Google bought You Tube
Two years ago Windows Vista was released
Two years ago the Turkey Slap incident happened on Big Brother.
Two years ago Crash won best film at the Oscars.
Two years ago Slobodan Milošević is found dead in his cell.
Two years ago cavemen invented the wheel.
I mean it was a long time ago folks.
....we talked about babies the whole time. I mean THE. WHOLE. TIME.
Seriously, is it time to just say goodbye to friendships like these? I don't even know what to say when I talk to them next... thanks for asking me about my life, I really appreciate it? What happens now?
It's a bit of a weird reaction but I'm angry at the producers for not being able to get it right and keep it on the air. It's a bloody simple show: Put people in the house: watch the people in the house. It's not rocket science! The producers forgot the cardinal rule and that is - don't patronise your audience. By marketing to the tweens they assumed that they could get away with anything; including housemates that were rather plastic in look and personality. This effectively lost them viewers who actually cared about watching real-ish people in the house (because who wants to watch plastics?) and they were left with the tweens who are fickle and who lose interest quickly (and they did, of course).
Arguably the best part of Big Brother this year has been the show Big Mouth, which is a weekly talk show that had a panel of ex-housemates talking about the show. Simple concept + good panelists + time slot where they could talk about anything = great show. Meanwhile the house itself was suffering under over-production + too many gimmicks + housemates that are too young and dumb = craaaaap.
I'm really gonna miss bitching about all those housemates :(
In other news I went out for dinner the other night with #1 and F. It is the first time in literally TWO YEARS that we have been in the same room together without the children.
(from wiki)
Two years ago Italy won the World Cup.
Two years ago Mel Gibson was pulled up for drink driving and then let loose in an anti-semitic diatribe and called a lady-cop "sugar tits".
Two years ago Google bought You Tube
Two years ago Windows Vista was released
Two years ago the Turkey Slap incident happened on Big Brother.
Two years ago Crash won best film at the Oscars.
Two years ago Slobodan Milošević is found dead in his cell.
Two years ago cavemen invented the wheel.
I mean it was a long time ago folks.
....we talked about babies the whole time. I mean THE. WHOLE. TIME.
Seriously, is it time to just say goodbye to friendships like these? I don't even know what to say when I talk to them next... thanks for asking me about my life, I really appreciate it? What happens now?
Labels: babies, big brother, crap reality tele, friends, there is no life after babies for the mothers in the equation but maybe they don't mind so much anyway
Sunday, June 29, 2008
...so I try a little Freddie
The 'officially old' birthdays are coming strong and fast now. I've celebrated (and commiserated with) quite a few in the last month. It's meant that I've had to come out of my otherwise rather comfortable hibernation and socialise with people again. I have to be honest and say that I'm finding it really hard to do this. Hiding away has been like a little blanket keeping me warm in an otherwise bitter winter. Socialising is all too hard because I can't be bothered making small talk with people who, when sober, never think of catching up with me.
It's also been a time of ..emotional spring cleaning I suppose. I'm wondering with great curiosity who my real friends really are. Are they the people that pick you up? Are they the people that ring you out of the blue? Are they the people that think about you before they go to sleep? Are they just the people who invite you to their birthdays or the ones who add you on facebook?
Maybe there's a lot going on with everyone else but lately I find myself wondering what it (friendship) means, and who they are. Maybe the problem lies with me, I don't ask for a lot. I don't actually ever ask for anything. Nothing. I don't ask people to step out of their way for me at all and I haven't done so for many years now. And I'm fully willing to respect the fact that it's my own trust issues that are on display here, not anyone elses. Maybe I'm not a good friend. However, I have to say recently I did ask a few friends to do something for me and it was something minimal (to be present at a dinner) and well... it didn't happen (the reasons I won't go into but were petty). This is beginning to sound like a teenage girl's dear diary but I've been there for birthdays, engagements, weddings, births etc, often arriving and leaving alone (though I have a rather severe anxiety about doing so) and going to places where I really don't feel comfortable at all and 100% of the time with a present in hand to boot. I've been the person that has been woken up at 3am by a crying someone wanting comfort. I've been the person who has said yes I'll be your crutch in any situation. But the same hasn't really come back to me or ...for me. The whole situation has forced me to evaluate a lot of things and also to evaluate myself and where I stand in the world. It's been ...difficult - made more difficult by not being able to hibernate to the extend that I need to at the moment.
Anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest oh dear diary. Now I'm going to go write bad poetry and rim my eyes with black eyeliner.
Here's a song - a long time favourite that has helped me to swim a little in an otherwise drown-worthy situation. God knows that when the chips are down I can always turn to music. Always.
Maps - Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.
(I was talking to someone the other night about the song Let's Dance to Joy Division by The Wombats. He was saying how much he liked it and I didn't really know that much about The Wombats but said that I loved Joy Division. He said that he thought JD were ohhhkaaay but hadn't really listened to much their stuff. I immediately made the loud proclamation that he was not allowed to like a song with such a title if he didn't have an extensive knowledge of Joy Division first. Am I being too harsh? I stand by my statement though I must also point out that I was a little tipsy (read: obnoxiously drunk and pissed off with the world and didn't really mean to take it out on the poor guy).
It's also been a time of ..emotional spring cleaning I suppose. I'm wondering with great curiosity who my real friends really are. Are they the people that pick you up? Are they the people that ring you out of the blue? Are they the people that think about you before they go to sleep? Are they just the people who invite you to their birthdays or the ones who add you on facebook?
Maybe there's a lot going on with everyone else but lately I find myself wondering what it (friendship) means, and who they are. Maybe the problem lies with me, I don't ask for a lot. I don't actually ever ask for anything. Nothing. I don't ask people to step out of their way for me at all and I haven't done so for many years now. And I'm fully willing to respect the fact that it's my own trust issues that are on display here, not anyone elses. Maybe I'm not a good friend. However, I have to say recently I did ask a few friends to do something for me and it was something minimal (to be present at a dinner) and well... it didn't happen (the reasons I won't go into but were petty). This is beginning to sound like a teenage girl's dear diary but I've been there for birthdays, engagements, weddings, births etc, often arriving and leaving alone (though I have a rather severe anxiety about doing so) and going to places where I really don't feel comfortable at all and 100% of the time with a present in hand to boot. I've been the person that has been woken up at 3am by a crying someone wanting comfort. I've been the person who has said yes I'll be your crutch in any situation. But the same hasn't really come back to me or ...for me. The whole situation has forced me to evaluate a lot of things and also to evaluate myself and where I stand in the world. It's been ...difficult - made more difficult by not being able to hibernate to the extend that I need to at the moment.
Anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest oh dear diary. Now I'm going to go write bad poetry and rim my eyes with black eyeliner.
Here's a song - a long time favourite that has helped me to swim a little in an otherwise drown-worthy situation. God knows that when the chips are down I can always turn to music. Always.
Maps - Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.
(I was talking to someone the other night about the song Let's Dance to Joy Division by The Wombats. He was saying how much he liked it and I didn't really know that much about The Wombats but said that I loved Joy Division. He said that he thought JD were ohhhkaaay but hadn't really listened to much their stuff. I immediately made the loud proclamation that he was not allowed to like a song with such a title if he didn't have an extensive knowledge of Joy Division first. Am I being too harsh? I stand by my statement though I must also point out that I was a little tipsy (read: obnoxiously drunk and pissed off with the world and didn't really mean to take it out on the poor guy).
Labels: friends, music, musings, the mean reds, wonderings
Friday, February 22, 2008
quotegirl eats chalk
me - Hey, how was your first assembly yesterday kids?
kid - it was good, you know we sang that song: Australians all in Ostriches. It was funny.
me - ...you mean Australians all let us rejoice...?
kid - um...maybe.
(I guess we need to go through that national anthem thingy).
frowny kid - why do you always smile?
me - hm?
frowny kid - well you're always smiling. I don't always feel like smiling so I don't always smile.
me - well, I like smiling, it's nice. You could do with a little more smiling you know! Besides, it's one of our rules!
(Like, it really is. It's on the board in bold letters and everything. Everyone must smile!)
Corey Haim kid - you know how you were away yesterday?
me - yep, sure do
CHK - well, that teacher we had, I forget her name ...or something. She was speaking a different language ...or something. I never understood anything she said. She didn't speak English!
me - oh really? *checking records of who was in the classroom*
CHK - I think she was Italian or something like that.
me - um, she was Irish! She was speaking English!
CHK - oh.
(I suppose it can be hard to tell. I mean the accent is so gorgeous that you really don't care what they're saying half the time do you?!)
Mum - I don't understand this body corporate. Why is there such a thing?
me - it pays for all those things you might want to use in the building plus maintaining the property
Mum - It's like communism, you pay someone else to tell you when you can have a bath, or what food you can eat. Everyone is stuck in the same paying for things they don't even want!
(God, well when she puts it like that, I really can't argue. Perhaps I should cross that one off my list).
me - you doing anything special with the man on vday?
C - well this is the one day of the year that he cooks! So we're having dinner in.
me - how lovely! What do you think he'll cook?
C - I know he's going to cook pancakes.
me - ...pancakes?
C - It's actually the only thing he knows how to cook. He does those shake the bottle ones.
me - oh. my. god...that is so romantic!
C - I know! I'm going to get him chocolates.
(you see guys, no one - worth knowing- is actually expecting a bloody diamond! Just being yourself is nice!)
me - S was upset because none of the other girls brought their babies to dinner. She wanted little N to meet all their babies!
#1 - err..it's not like little N is really going to remember meeting some randoms at a dinner one night. He's a baby!
me - exactly, it's not like they're really going to be exchanging business cards and making dates to meet up at the local pub later!
(I mean seriously. Sometimes babies can be left at home with dad. Dad is also a parent. Dad is in fact the OTHER parent!!
The past two weeks have had me play host to a couple of important people in the classroom. One was Mr school Counselor who has been visiting every grade (trying to get a feel for the wackos probably) and a parent who also happens to be a teacher, who wanted to clock up some volunteer hours in my class. I was a bit nervous having other adults in the classroom after so long out of the classroom - especially since school counselor actually has to work with me as a peer and he also happens to be a parent of a child in the class next door - so comparisons will be made. Meanwhile having one single parent making judgments on your teaching is basically the kiss of death if things go wrong. Sometimes parental opinion comes in the form of lemmings jumping off a cliff you see.
Anyway, both counselor and parent said wonderful complimentary things - even going so far as to praise the way I had my classroom organised in comparison with the other grades (including the counselor's child's class). It's made me feel a whole lot more at ease with my teaching and that the hard work is paying off. My class is still difficult but I've worked damn hard to get them to where they are now, which is nowhere near where I want them to be but has been garnering a lot of compliments from their other specialist teachers. It's very cool.
random question - answer honestly: Are you completely repulsed or strangely fascinated by all the cyst/boil removal videos on You Tube? I have to say, I can watch that shit all day. Sorry - but it's true. I'm really into freaky stuff like that. Apologies if you find this revelation about my good self unbearable and now want to stop reading!
kid - it was good, you know we sang that song: Australians all in Ostriches. It was funny.
me - ...you mean Australians all let us rejoice...?
kid - um...maybe.
(I guess we need to go through that national anthem thingy).
frowny kid - why do you always smile?
me - hm?
frowny kid - well you're always smiling. I don't always feel like smiling so I don't always smile.
me - well, I like smiling, it's nice. You could do with a little more smiling you know! Besides, it's one of our rules!
(Like, it really is. It's on the board in bold letters and everything. Everyone must smile!)
Corey Haim kid - you know how you were away yesterday?
me - yep, sure do
CHK - well, that teacher we had, I forget her name ...or something. She was speaking a different language ...or something. I never understood anything she said. She didn't speak English!
me - oh really? *checking records of who was in the classroom*
CHK - I think she was Italian or something like that.
me - um, she was Irish! She was speaking English!
CHK - oh.
(I suppose it can be hard to tell. I mean the accent is so gorgeous that you really don't care what they're saying half the time do you?!)
Mum - I don't understand this body corporate. Why is there such a thing?
me - it pays for all those things you might want to use in the building plus maintaining the property
Mum - It's like communism, you pay someone else to tell you when you can have a bath, or what food you can eat. Everyone is stuck in the same paying for things they don't even want!
(God, well when she puts it like that, I really can't argue. Perhaps I should cross that one off my list).
me - you doing anything special with the man on vday?
C - well this is the one day of the year that he cooks! So we're having dinner in.
me - how lovely! What do you think he'll cook?
C - I know he's going to cook pancakes.
me - ...pancakes?
C - It's actually the only thing he knows how to cook. He does those shake the bottle ones.
me - oh. my. god...that is so romantic!
C - I know! I'm going to get him chocolates.
(you see guys, no one - worth knowing- is actually expecting a bloody diamond! Just being yourself is nice!)
me - S was upset because none of the other girls brought their babies to dinner. She wanted little N to meet all their babies!
#1 - err..it's not like little N is really going to remember meeting some randoms at a dinner one night. He's a baby!
me - exactly, it's not like they're really going to be exchanging business cards and making dates to meet up at the local pub later!
(I mean seriously. Sometimes babies can be left at home with dad. Dad is also a parent. Dad is in fact the OTHER parent!!
The past two weeks have had me play host to a couple of important people in the classroom. One was Mr school Counselor who has been visiting every grade (trying to get a feel for the wackos probably) and a parent who also happens to be a teacher, who wanted to clock up some volunteer hours in my class. I was a bit nervous having other adults in the classroom after so long out of the classroom - especially since school counselor actually has to work with me as a peer and he also happens to be a parent of a child in the class next door - so comparisons will be made. Meanwhile having one single parent making judgments on your teaching is basically the kiss of death if things go wrong. Sometimes parental opinion comes in the form of lemmings jumping off a cliff you see.
Anyway, both counselor and parent said wonderful complimentary things - even going so far as to praise the way I had my classroom organised in comparison with the other grades (including the counselor's child's class). It's made me feel a whole lot more at ease with my teaching and that the hard work is paying off. My class is still difficult but I've worked damn hard to get them to where they are now, which is nowhere near where I want them to be but has been garnering a lot of compliments from their other specialist teachers. It's very cool.
random question - answer honestly: Are you completely repulsed or strangely fascinated by all the cyst/boil removal videos on You Tube? I have to say, I can watch that shit all day. Sorry - but it's true. I'm really into freaky stuff like that. Apologies if you find this revelation about my good self unbearable and now want to stop reading!
Labels: friends, quotegirl, school, weird things
Monday, February 18, 2008
can't quite keep thoughts straight
Settling back into classroom teaching has been difficult. Getting through a day in a classroom is much easier than getting through a day in the AR but teaching the preps is just out of this world: hard. Most of them don't know their letters, or sounds or even how to write their names properly (ie; not backwards). Can you imagine how inundated I am by requests for help whenever we do ANY activity? It's crazy I tell ya.
Anyway, I'm coming home from work each night mentally and physically exhausted and I think as a consequence of this and reading that Tom Cruise biog by Andrew Morton I've been having some weird dreams. Last night probably took the cake as weirdo horrific dream of the year. Picture this - Germany 1942 - an underground secret railroad. I've traveled back in time in order to prepare for a school excursion (??) and find myself in the middle of a finely orchestrated escape attempt by Jewish people out of the country and away from the extermination camps. The dark dingy caves are packed with groups of whispering people who are scared for their lives. Suddenly we are ambushed by armies of soldiers and people are being brutally murdered all around me. I am lost in the crowd, confused about whether my fate is sealed or not. I wake before I die - almost prying my own eyes open and searching for some sort of recognition in the shadows in dark of my bedroom. I much preferred it when I was dreaming of men with strong lips. Andrew Morton with his mention of Nazi Germany and Scientology in the same sentence has a lot to answer for.
Earlier this week Scorpy was in an injury at work. A friend from work updated his blog in order to inform his readers about what was going on with Scorps. Hopefully all will be okay but this got me thinking about what I'd do if something happened to me. Who would I get to update and indeed would I even want to? Also there is the question of if I did - what would said trusted friend think of me after they had updated the blog? Would they be surprised? Would they be embarrassed for me? Would they think I was an idiot or would they discover something in me that they hadn't really contemplated before? I honestly don't know.
Scorpy's mate made the comment about his writing:
Which made me think about how we are all perceived in life versus in blog land and indeed how complex we are as characters both on the street and in our own heads. I have been doing this for long enough to realise that everything is not what it seems when it comes to most characters, but I was to qualify that statement by saying I'm NOT talking about lying here. I mean - people explore real parts of themselves on their blog which may or may not be featured centre stage in real life. For instance, one person may come across as crass or hopeless or always on the verge of being a complete nutbag but in real life this may also be true, it's certainly not all of themselves, like it may be in a blog.
We are not one dimensional. So why is it so hard to reconcile all of those parts of ourselves so that we are always what we seem, in ALL facets of our lives?
Maybe those real life men's men - blokey blokes - explore a more "deep" side on their blog because they can't quite get to exposing that side of themselves (for whatever reason) in real life. I wonder why not? Do we (both men and women) really crucify men who express themselves eloquently in real life or is this a myth perpetuated by the gay phobia and a degradation of the "thinker" in the sports pages of every tabloid newspaper out there? Are men who write in the first place a bit more sensitive anyway and that's why this dichotomy of blokey guy on the outside, superhero deep guy on the blogside (made up word) exists?
If you were in an accident and your friend read your blog would they be surprised by reading a different person to who they really knew?
Why?
How?
Thinking music - one of my favourites (of course)
Get Off - The Dandy Warhols
Anyway, I'm coming home from work each night mentally and physically exhausted and I think as a consequence of this and reading that Tom Cruise biog by Andrew Morton I've been having some weird dreams. Last night probably took the cake as weirdo horrific dream of the year. Picture this - Germany 1942 - an underground secret railroad. I've traveled back in time in order to prepare for a school excursion (??) and find myself in the middle of a finely orchestrated escape attempt by Jewish people out of the country and away from the extermination camps. The dark dingy caves are packed with groups of whispering people who are scared for their lives. Suddenly we are ambushed by armies of soldiers and people are being brutally murdered all around me. I am lost in the crowd, confused about whether my fate is sealed or not. I wake before I die - almost prying my own eyes open and searching for some sort of recognition in the shadows in dark of my bedroom. I much preferred it when I was dreaming of men with strong lips. Andrew Morton with his mention of Nazi Germany and Scientology in the same sentence has a lot to answer for.
Earlier this week Scorpy was in an injury at work. A friend from work updated his blog in order to inform his readers about what was going on with Scorps. Hopefully all will be okay but this got me thinking about what I'd do if something happened to me. Who would I get to update and indeed would I even want to? Also there is the question of if I did - what would said trusted friend think of me after they had updated the blog? Would they be surprised? Would they be embarrassed for me? Would they think I was an idiot or would they discover something in me that they hadn't really contemplated before? I honestly don't know.
Scorpy's mate made the comment about his writing:
Some of it is very deep. I didn't know he had it in him.
Which made me think about how we are all perceived in life versus in blog land and indeed how complex we are as characters both on the street and in our own heads. I have been doing this for long enough to realise that everything is not what it seems when it comes to most characters, but I was to qualify that statement by saying I'm NOT talking about lying here. I mean - people explore real parts of themselves on their blog which may or may not be featured centre stage in real life. For instance, one person may come across as crass or hopeless or always on the verge of being a complete nutbag but in real life this may also be true, it's certainly not all of themselves, like it may be in a blog.
We are not one dimensional. So why is it so hard to reconcile all of those parts of ourselves so that we are always what we seem, in ALL facets of our lives?
Maybe those real life men's men - blokey blokes - explore a more "deep" side on their blog because they can't quite get to exposing that side of themselves (for whatever reason) in real life. I wonder why not? Do we (both men and women) really crucify men who express themselves eloquently in real life or is this a myth perpetuated by the gay phobia and a degradation of the "thinker" in the sports pages of every tabloid newspaper out there? Are men who write in the first place a bit more sensitive anyway and that's why this dichotomy of blokey guy on the outside, superhero deep guy on the blogside (made up word) exists?
If you were in an accident and your friend read your blog would they be surprised by reading a different person to who they really knew?
Why?
How?
Thinking music - one of my favourites (of course)
Get Off - The Dandy Warhols
Labels: blogs, dreams, friends, musical monday, stressed teachers, teaching, teaching the teacher, work
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Summer saw you wasted, everyday.
The first thing you see is blue on blue. A cloudless sky resting atop a line of deep indigo on the horizon. The sun is already burning a red line across your bare skin; where you couldn't quite reach to put the sunscreen properly. A thin film of sweat collects at the nape of your neck. You breathe in the waves and swat at the flies before making your way down the hill to the sand. Do you want an ice-cream now or later? your companion muses while looking hungrily at the van. Can't we do both? you laugh back.
The bathing boxes are lined up like soldiers at the ready for a gay mardi gras parade. You can hear the delighted squeals of small children no doubt wearing hats that are much too big and being taunted by splashes of water. This makes you smile as you remember countless summers spent by the water. Your mind goes back in time almost 20 years to your dad dripping freezing cold water onto your back while you sunbaked, purposely trying to annoy you. These memories make you smile now. They didn't back then.
You hoist the umbrella up under your arm with effort (everything takes effort on a day already hitting 30 degrees before 10am) and take those first tentative steps across the hot sand. A scratchy towel, under the other arm is already throwing you off balance and you falter a little, tipping dangerously to one side. Walking on sand involves feeling like one is temporarily drunk. Finding the right spot is an art. Private but close to the water, sandy but not shelly, away from the freaks playing with a ball (who ARE these people that do this?) and enough room to have a conversation without being overheard.
With the umbrella erected and tilted, the picnic rug spread and the towels positioned just right you peel back your clothes and sigh backwards onto your towel. "A" pulls back the lid on a container to reveal a bunch of crispy green grapes, nectarines, watermelon and ripe strawberries. You take a strawberry and enjoy its sweet coolness across your lips. A perfect beach breakfast. You smile, engaging in a cheerful conversation that soon dies away as the sun sends you both into drowsy silence.
You close your eyes and hear the sounds of the beach all around you. Cheery laughter, sunscreen bottles clicking closed, a shuffling of feet close by, occasional outbursts of loud laughter and the heavy splashes of people frolicking in the waves. You open one eye and peer at the middle aged Greek ladies proudly displaying their slight ponches and legs complete with a touch of cellulite. They laugh and recount stories in their own language while sunning themselves. You notice they're set up for the whole day. Food, and drinks, books and sunscreen - everything a close knit group of friends will need. You know they won't hit the books, they've got too much to talk about. You grin to yourself. You much prefer these real creatures of life and laughter to the gaggle of silent but deadly young things further down who look like they've had one too many days in the sun and are much too conscious of looking the part of the beach-goer. Give it a rest girls, this ain't LA you think.
The best part of the afternoon ticks by as you doze, and talk and imagine and sigh. The water feels like a silky awakening and you are christened by a new feeling of contentment. Hallelujah! And under you go again.
By the time you both pack away the makeshift picnic the beach dwellers have tripled. The sand is a patchwork of gaudy tends and Pisa tilted umbrellas. Making your way back to the car is always a challenge with your head weighted with daydreams as it is today. You smell a little bit like cocoa butter and sunscreen, ice-cream and sand all mixed together with a pinch of salt. It's a nice smell. You smell like summer.
The bathing boxes are lined up like soldiers at the ready for a gay mardi gras parade. You can hear the delighted squeals of small children no doubt wearing hats that are much too big and being taunted by splashes of water. This makes you smile as you remember countless summers spent by the water. Your mind goes back in time almost 20 years to your dad dripping freezing cold water onto your back while you sunbaked, purposely trying to annoy you. These memories make you smile now. They didn't back then.
You hoist the umbrella up under your arm with effort (everything takes effort on a day already hitting 30 degrees before 10am) and take those first tentative steps across the hot sand. A scratchy towel, under the other arm is already throwing you off balance and you falter a little, tipping dangerously to one side. Walking on sand involves feeling like one is temporarily drunk. Finding the right spot is an art. Private but close to the water, sandy but not shelly, away from the freaks playing with a ball (who ARE these people that do this?) and enough room to have a conversation without being overheard.
With the umbrella erected and tilted, the picnic rug spread and the towels positioned just right you peel back your clothes and sigh backwards onto your towel. "A" pulls back the lid on a container to reveal a bunch of crispy green grapes, nectarines, watermelon and ripe strawberries. You take a strawberry and enjoy its sweet coolness across your lips. A perfect beach breakfast. You smile, engaging in a cheerful conversation that soon dies away as the sun sends you both into drowsy silence.
You close your eyes and hear the sounds of the beach all around you. Cheery laughter, sunscreen bottles clicking closed, a shuffling of feet close by, occasional outbursts of loud laughter and the heavy splashes of people frolicking in the waves. You open one eye and peer at the middle aged Greek ladies proudly displaying their slight ponches and legs complete with a touch of cellulite. They laugh and recount stories in their own language while sunning themselves. You notice they're set up for the whole day. Food, and drinks, books and sunscreen - everything a close knit group of friends will need. You know they won't hit the books, they've got too much to talk about. You grin to yourself. You much prefer these real creatures of life and laughter to the gaggle of silent but deadly young things further down who look like they've had one too many days in the sun and are much too conscious of looking the part of the beach-goer. Give it a rest girls, this ain't LA you think.
The best part of the afternoon ticks by as you doze, and talk and imagine and sigh. The water feels like a silky awakening and you are christened by a new feeling of contentment. Hallelujah! And under you go again.
By the time you both pack away the makeshift picnic the beach dwellers have tripled. The sand is a patchwork of gaudy tends and Pisa tilted umbrellas. Making your way back to the car is always a challenge with your head weighted with daydreams as it is today. You smell a little bit like cocoa butter and sunscreen, ice-cream and sand all mixed together with a pinch of salt. It's a nice smell. You smell like summer.
Labels: breakfast, endless summer lift the curse, friends, holiday, lazy holiday, peaceful, real women
Monday, December 10, 2007
troubleshoot your life and find yourself
I was introduced to the Sneaker Pimps through my friend D who played the album Becoming X for me one afternoon over 10 years ago now, as I sat in her living room sipping a cold coke and she enjoying (not) the heady come down of a different kind of drug. When I first met her in high school she was completely horse mad and one of those people I thought was going to grow up riding dressage or owning a racehorse and saying "tah-tah" a lot while sipping champagne (I imagine anyway). If you'd have told me in year 9 that by the time we had our drivers licenses she'd be sporting an Astro Boy t-shirt, colourful plastic bracelets and a nose ring I'd have laughed my head off. As if! But there we were, in the mid-late 90s admiring her newly pierced navel ring and avoiding the topic of why she looked so bloody thin. Funny how things change.I didn't/don't really have any friends who take drugs heavily so when D went the way of the raver crowd we were all rather worried about her. She introduced me to a lot of very cool music during that time though - the Sneaker Pimps being but one band. After the new Millennium ticked over she left the ravers behind, moved to India for a few years, joined a peace loving, well respected human rights organisation and became hell bent on saving the world. A noble cause. She met a like-minded man on her travels, who coincidentally shared the male derivative of her name - himself also into charity work and of course, saving the world and together they rode into the sunset living a rather immaterial sort of lifestyle filled with freedom, travel and ...saving the world.
I have no idea what we were so worried about. Sounds perfect to me.
I bought Becoming X not long after hearing it at D's house and it was a constant in the CD player for a few years. Every time I hear any of the songs from it I'm reminded of D and of being young and laughing at how far away adulthood and responsibility was. As I said, funny how things change.
Low Place Like Home - Sneaker Pimps
Labels: friends, memories, musical monday, nostalgia, troubleshooting
Sunday, October 14, 2007
I guess I'm lying to myself
* Saturday morning in Melbourne town saw me braving the western subs for a bit of brekkie, coffee - and apparently a trip of self discovery. For it was on this day while perusing the more unsavory of the Melbourne newspapers that I spied a "What Kind Of Personality Are You?" type test. Being a student of psychology and no stranger to the myriad of different personality tests out there - pushed on me via the route of "lab requirements" of unimelb undergrad psych, I thought what any other sane and rational person would think when faced with a personality test in their morning paper; oh goodie!.
With only 12 questions the test promised to tell me who I was. Since I'm always up for being told who or what I am I looked around left and right, before quickly pocketing the offending page and quickly finishing off my eggs.
So I took the test and here's what I found out:
I display very high levels of Neuroticism and Openness and high levels of Agreeableness. I score quite low on Conscientiousness and Extraversion. All this seems by and large on the money. I am a worrier, analytical and a thinker hence the neurotic label. Indeed I'm also very open to different kinds of people and ideas. I have strong opinions but am not actually judgemental when it comes down to it - which all apparently makes me 'open'. Agreeableness is related to being sympathetic and helping others (hello! Teacher!). I'm not known for being organised, methodological or being anally retentive and am also not known for screaming 'here I am' when I enter a room so it's only fair I score low on Extraversion and conscientiousness.
All this, I have no issue with - but then I had a look at the pictures which accompanied the personality blurbs. This is what represents me.
So yes, after seeing those pictures I felt very well adjusted and normal didn't I? Don't worry about me - my recipe is apparently: One part Herman Munster, One part alien worshiping wack job and One part little Miss "I Psychotically love you to DEATH". Stir with swivel stick, drink and call the paramedics immediately.
* Anyway I was a tad traumatised after doing the test so was looking forward to some friendly company at dinner that night. Finally the group was going to meet L's new man. He was lovely and it was also lovely to see my friend B, who was down from QLD for a visit. Bonus of Bonuses, she turned up to the dinner with my star chart (she's a qualified astrologer). Oh goodie, another personality test - without actually having to take the test! Anyway, she starts the conversation with "you're a dark horse aren't you?" and ends with "we've been underestimating you for a long time" - which, may I add makes me feel like a bit of a fraud for some reason. Everyone went a little silent and looked at me quizzically for a while (trying to figure out my dark horse side, probably). I wonder if she was referring to my Herman Munster side.
B did tell me something that has made me want to change myself for the better though. She said that I find it hard to let people go. I have done a lot of self analysis and soul searching in my life and I had never really thought of myself in these terms. Weird I know, but as soon as she said it I knew it was true. Funny how revelations only ever feel like an anvil falling on your head but it's true, I do find it incredibly hard to let people go. I'd love to think of myself as a love 'em and leave 'em - and who really cares about 'em anyway.. type girl but I'm not. I embrace any kind of affection that comes my way - even if it's bad for me. There are a lot of reasons for this, not least the lack of affection shown to me during my own childhood and my need to feel that someone finds me worthy of their time. I've seen friends of mine go through the whole 'going back to people who make you feel bad about yourself' thing with men and the like, advising them to have the strength to say no.. when all the while it was me too. I don't want to be that girl. Closer to the case - I don't want to be her ...anymore. I don't need anymore fair weather friends. They tear me apart.
I thought about this all night, and all of today. I guess I have to be a stronger person - maybe I have to let that "agreeableness" part of me go a little and be less agreeable and be less open. Those people that use me shouldn't be welcomed by me with open arms ever again and those people that don't see my good qualities - well, it's their loss isn't it? I shouldn't see myself for being at fault just because THEY are idiotic. Stop making excuses for other people's mistakes, that's basically what I have to do.
* Meanwhile and since it's all about me today: on Idol (I know, please don't hate me for using Idol as my Musical Monday crutch for two weeks in a row) they had 'choose music from the year you were born. I thought it was a smashing idea and I've come up with a song from a band I've been meaning to do for a while now. The Rolling Stones.
I'm certainly no hardcore fan, as you will probably tell when you hear my song choice but one of my very earliest memories I have of myself enjoying music is while I was listening to The Rolling Stones. It was the 80s, I was wearing my pajamas and jumping up and down on the couch with my bro to Start me Up, which happened to be playing on Countdown one night. I did think it was an excellent song - even though I sang Stompio (hence the stomping on the couch) instead of Start me Up, but that's just a technicality surely. I mean Mick probably sang the wrong words half the time too. As for Keith, good christ, did he ever know the words? (God love 'em) But I digress. That was the early me.
In my mid teens I re-discovered them when I was going through my 60s rock and I'm depressed with the world phase. In fact Paint it Black was a constant fixture in the soundtrack of my life around that time. I can't even being to tell you how many times I listened to that one. And of course at 18-ish when I decided that Get Off My Cloud would be my theme song (I might take it up again). Then again, at 19 sitting on the floor of some filthy bungalow down by the beach singing along to As Tears Go By being played beautifully on guitar by a sad friend. And lately, with this one - 1978, my year. I love everything about it, the slightly bluesy influence, the sexy beat and all the lyrics; yes every single one - even the Peurto Rican girls just dyyyyyyyyyyyyyin' to meet you. Love it.
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
So you see, they've been around for a while; The Rolling Stones. Never really at the forefront of my life but there, behind the scenes, definitely in the soundtrack - a perfect accompaniment. Don't you just love it when must does that?
err sorry, slip of the button... what I meant was..
With only 12 questions the test promised to tell me who I was. Since I'm always up for being told who or what I am I looked around left and right, before quickly pocketing the offending page and quickly finishing off my eggs.
So I took the test and here's what I found out:
I display very high levels of Neuroticism and Openness and high levels of Agreeableness. I score quite low on Conscientiousness and Extraversion. All this seems by and large on the money. I am a worrier, analytical and a thinker hence the neurotic label. Indeed I'm also very open to different kinds of people and ideas. I have strong opinions but am not actually judgemental when it comes down to it - which all apparently makes me 'open'. Agreeableness is related to being sympathetic and helping others (hello! Teacher!). I'm not known for being organised, methodological or being anally retentive and am also not known for screaming 'here I am' when I enter a room so it's only fair I score low on Extraversion and conscientiousness.
All this, I have no issue with - but then I had a look at the pictures which accompanied the personality blurbs. This is what represents me.
Neurotic
Yeah, hi that's the Neurotic me a cross between Herman Munster and THE GRINCH. Don't make any sudden movements or I'll rain all over you with my big black cloud of doom. I'm so Emo, now where the hell is my blacker than black eyeliner?
Openness
Hi again, when I read 'open' I thought, open to new ideas and all people - but apparently it just means that I'm about to join the Ralean sect. It also means I am a little bit wacko (look into my eyes...if you can find my wonky pupils that is) and am either into mooncakes or have stolen some kind of meterorite from the astronomical section of the Scienceworks museum. We've been observing your earth, and we'd like to make contact with youuuu.
Agreeableness
Oh, I'm so huggy aren't I? Come here, let me hug you! Come onnnnnnn! COME HERE I WANT TO HUG YOU!! I WAAANNNNAA HUUUUUUG!! PLEASE SNUGGLE WITH ME!!! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? Where?.... oh.. :( Actually, ..there is a reason why I have the profile photo that I do.
So yes, after seeing those pictures I felt very well adjusted and normal didn't I? Don't worry about me - my recipe is apparently: One part Herman Munster, One part alien worshiping wack job and One part little Miss "I Psychotically love you to DEATH". Stir with swivel stick, drink and call the paramedics immediately.
* Anyway I was a tad traumatised after doing the test so was looking forward to some friendly company at dinner that night. Finally the group was going to meet L's new man. He was lovely and it was also lovely to see my friend B, who was down from QLD for a visit. Bonus of Bonuses, she turned up to the dinner with my star chart (she's a qualified astrologer). Oh goodie, another personality test - without actually having to take the test! Anyway, she starts the conversation with "you're a dark horse aren't you?" and ends with "we've been underestimating you for a long time" - which, may I add makes me feel like a bit of a fraud for some reason. Everyone went a little silent and looked at me quizzically for a while (trying to figure out my dark horse side, probably). I wonder if she was referring to my Herman Munster side.
B did tell me something that has made me want to change myself for the better though. She said that I find it hard to let people go. I have done a lot of self analysis and soul searching in my life and I had never really thought of myself in these terms. Weird I know, but as soon as she said it I knew it was true. Funny how revelations only ever feel like an anvil falling on your head but it's true, I do find it incredibly hard to let people go. I'd love to think of myself as a love 'em and leave 'em - and who really cares about 'em anyway.. type girl but I'm not. I embrace any kind of affection that comes my way - even if it's bad for me. There are a lot of reasons for this, not least the lack of affection shown to me during my own childhood and my need to feel that someone finds me worthy of their time. I've seen friends of mine go through the whole 'going back to people who make you feel bad about yourself' thing with men and the like, advising them to have the strength to say no.. when all the while it was me too. I don't want to be that girl. Closer to the case - I don't want to be her ...anymore. I don't need anymore fair weather friends. They tear me apart.
I thought about this all night, and all of today. I guess I have to be a stronger person - maybe I have to let that "agreeableness" part of me go a little and be less agreeable and be less open. Those people that use me shouldn't be welcomed by me with open arms ever again and those people that don't see my good qualities - well, it's their loss isn't it? I shouldn't see myself for being at fault just because THEY are idiotic. Stop making excuses for other people's mistakes, that's basically what I have to do.
* Meanwhile and since it's all about me today: on Idol (I know, please don't hate me for using Idol as my Musical Monday crutch for two weeks in a row) they had 'choose music from the year you were born. I thought it was a smashing idea and I've come up with a song from a band I've been meaning to do for a while now. The Rolling Stones.
I'm certainly no hardcore fan, as you will probably tell when you hear my song choice but one of my very earliest memories I have of myself enjoying music is while I was listening to The Rolling Stones. It was the 80s, I was wearing my pajamas and jumping up and down on the couch with my bro to Start me Up, which happened to be playing on Countdown one night. I did think it was an excellent song - even though I sang Stompio (hence the stomping on the couch) instead of Start me Up, but that's just a technicality surely. I mean Mick probably sang the wrong words half the time too. As for Keith, good christ, did he ever know the words? (God love 'em) But I digress. That was the early me.
In my mid teens I re-discovered them when I was going through my 60s rock and I'm depressed with the world phase. In fact Paint it Black was a constant fixture in the soundtrack of my life around that time. I can't even being to tell you how many times I listened to that one. And of course at 18-ish when I decided that Get Off My Cloud would be my theme song (I might take it up again). Then again, at 19 sitting on the floor of some filthy bungalow down by the beach singing along to As Tears Go By being played beautifully on guitar by a sad friend. And lately, with this one - 1978, my year. I love everything about it, the slightly bluesy influence, the sexy beat and all the lyrics; yes every single one - even the Peurto Rican girls just dyyyyyyyyyyyyyin' to meet you. Love it.
Miss You - The Rolling Stones
So you see, they've been around for a while; The Rolling Stones. Never really at the forefront of my life but there, behind the scenes, definitely in the soundtrack - a perfect accompaniment. Don't you just love it when must does that?
err sorry, slip of the button... what I meant was..
Labels: aries is the best chuck out the rest, beach, blurry girl, change, childhood, choices, conversations, divination, friends, girls and women, idol, mixed bag of me, musical monday, newspaper, personal
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
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*
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*
Labels: babies, friends, frustration, meme
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"?
Labels: friends, men, relationships, the When Harry Met Sally conundrum, women
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
quatro
* 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.
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.
Labels: blogs, dirty femmo, friends, gender stuff, girls and women, media, miscellany, models, movies, school, stressed teachers, teacher dramas, Yoko woman
Saturday, August 11, 2007
I don't wanna grow up!
This week there has been a birth, a mourning, a silly dress up day and I went to view a house in a suburb that has the same name as a popular grammy award winning song by daggy 70s band. I've had the offending song in my head all week long. If I do end up moving to this suburb I have to wonder if I will have the song permanently embedded there. I wouldn't put it past my brain to do something like that. Perhaps I should look for places in suburbs that have no associations with 70s bands.
* I've upped my house hunting from 0 to hero in the last couple of weeks. Searching dropped off last year when I realised that I have no buying power. Now I'm back - still with little buying power (and higher interest rates) - but I've stopped looking at Victorian single fronted cottages with open fireplaces. That was a hard dream to let go of. A girl like me deserves an open fire place dammit but I figure that since I squeal at all things creepy crawly then I really shouldn't have a gaping hole in my (imaginary) house. I also figure that if I want a fireplace I can always light one in a garbage can out the front of my future house. I'm feeling that would be okay in the kind of neighbourhood I'm looking at.
* Across to a nicer side of town my friend, S sits in her hospital room having just given birth to a baby that has been rushed to another hospital, pending an operation that may or may not work. She asks for my prayers - not being religious herself. Not being religious myself I don't know how to offer that either. I send out into the universe the only thing I can and that is hope. Hope that things go well, hope that she has the strength to get through whatever comes and an ear... should she need it.
* School has brought with it a silly dress up day coupled with a theme. I must say, school communities these days are much more involved then they were in the 80s when I went to school. Almost all teachers made a supreme effort as did students. I put on a black wig to commemorate a character and was told by half the staff that I should go black and the other half that they're glad I'm closer to honey. All the kids did a double take - hilarious.
* One Aspergers child at our school has a new obsession - music. He's 7 and right into bands like Talking Heads, The Ramones, Bow Wow Wow, Coldplay, Mozart etc. I knew he had okay tastes when he proclaimed loudly in class the other day that Rhianna's "Umbrella" sounded like a dog dying on the street. I laughed and laughed. Being Aspergers his mind has already worked to categorise hundreds if not thousands of songs he's come across into neat little boxes inside his head. He can name songs in correct order on all the albums he has come across. Being an especially bright kid (on top of the Aspergers) he has already figured out how to apply for a credit card on the internet and start downloading many songs legally. I don't know how a 7 year old got his own credit card (yes, he put in his correct DOB) but let me tell you his parents weren't impressed. We have a few Aspergers children at the school and they are all so different from each other, all with varying degrees of the condition. I wonder what this one especially going to be like as an adult - he has quite a severe case.
* My friend M has suffered a miscarriage. About 1 in 4 women do, apparently and I know many, many, many who have. This is an especially devastating blow for M though because it was a bit of a minor miracle the pregnancy happened in the first place. I'm seeing her tomorrow. I'm banking on it being a bit of an emotional get together.
* I've upped my house hunting from 0 to hero in the last couple of weeks. Searching dropped off last year when I realised that I have no buying power. Now I'm back - still with little buying power (and higher interest rates) - but I've stopped looking at Victorian single fronted cottages with open fireplaces. That was a hard dream to let go of. A girl like me deserves an open fire place dammit but I figure that since I squeal at all things creepy crawly then I really shouldn't have a gaping hole in my (imaginary) house. I also figure that if I want a fireplace I can always light one in a garbage can out the front of my future house. I'm feeling that would be okay in the kind of neighbourhood I'm looking at.
* Across to a nicer side of town my friend, S sits in her hospital room having just given birth to a baby that has been rushed to another hospital, pending an operation that may or may not work. She asks for my prayers - not being religious herself. Not being religious myself I don't know how to offer that either. I send out into the universe the only thing I can and that is hope. Hope that things go well, hope that she has the strength to get through whatever comes and an ear... should she need it.
* School has brought with it a silly dress up day coupled with a theme. I must say, school communities these days are much more involved then they were in the 80s when I went to school. Almost all teachers made a supreme effort as did students. I put on a black wig to commemorate a character and was told by half the staff that I should go black and the other half that they're glad I'm closer to honey. All the kids did a double take - hilarious.
* One Aspergers child at our school has a new obsession - music. He's 7 and right into bands like Talking Heads, The Ramones, Bow Wow Wow, Coldplay, Mozart etc. I knew he had okay tastes when he proclaimed loudly in class the other day that Rhianna's "Umbrella" sounded like a dog dying on the street. I laughed and laughed. Being Aspergers his mind has already worked to categorise hundreds if not thousands of songs he's come across into neat little boxes inside his head. He can name songs in correct order on all the albums he has come across. Being an especially bright kid (on top of the Aspergers) he has already figured out how to apply for a credit card on the internet and start downloading many songs legally. I don't know how a 7 year old got his own credit card (yes, he put in his correct DOB) but let me tell you his parents weren't impressed. We have a few Aspergers children at the school and they are all so different from each other, all with varying degrees of the condition. I wonder what this one especially going to be like as an adult - he has quite a severe case.
* My friend M has suffered a miscarriage. About 1 in 4 women do, apparently and I know many, many, many who have. This is an especially devastating blow for M though because it was a bit of a minor miracle the pregnancy happened in the first place. I'm seeing her tomorrow. I'm banking on it being a bit of an emotional get together.
Labels: babies, friends, house, music, news, random
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