cigarettes and arrogant french girls

are things i shouldn't have - but for some reason they are both things that i kinda want...


I've had so much to write recently that i've written nothing. about the girl who nobody likes at first, but once you get to know her she's fine. about being single when you're sad and the poetry that comes with it - incomplete, forever. about the really sad book i am reading - that i have to read - that is so beautifully written that i want to read it. and also about the fact that the time that these things have chosen to be written about is the middle of my work day - day 4/8 and one of 11 shifts in 12 days.

So, here i sit, scribbling on paper far too small to contain all these big things, wanting a cigarette, and wondering what it was about that slightly arrogant french girl that got me wound up...

The boss here, has a reputation... I knew her when we were both in our early teens, she is a yr or two older than me. Not much now, but enough then. She was just generally superior to me in the way she acted, but never outright mean, and i didn't hate her. Now, people who meet her think she is not nice, but everyone who has worked with her or known her for a few months always says, you just have to get used to her. And it is so true. But it got me to thinking, would i really want to be the girl that you "just have to get to know" to like???

as i drove to work last weekend, watching the road through tears, i was thinking it was times like these that i miss having a partner. someone to hold me while i cry. and these four lines of poetry came. i will post them here, rather than over with the rest of my poetry as it is very short, and will never be more than these 4 lines...

Dry your eyes baby girl,

no-one's coming for to help you

wipe your tears on your own sleeve

there's no-one to hold you now.

Beloved, by Toni Morrison. read it. but maybe read it when the sun is shining in your life, coz it's a tough read. and if you know nothing about the history of slavery in America i believe it would be even tougher... I have to read it for class, but i'm glad to have discovered  it, because it is brilliant - but its affecting me... it's not helping me be happy...


and now it seems


that is all...

meh

i hate meh. it sucks. then after the meh creeps in the paranoia. which sucks even more.

That is all.

so, the bible says you can't be gay...

In her radio show, Dr. Laura Schlesinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance.
The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, penned by a U.S. resident, which was posted on the Internet.

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law.
I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that
knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to
defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them
that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End
of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other
elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and
female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A
friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not
Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in
Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a
fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in
her period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem
is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it
creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my
neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I
smite them?

5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus
35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally
obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an
abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than
homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there
'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I
have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading
glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some
wiggle-room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the
hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden
by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig
makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two
different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing
garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester
blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really
necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town
together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to
death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep
with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy
considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can
help.

Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and
unchanging.

Your adoring fan.

James M. Kauffman,
Ed.D. Professor Emeritus,
Dept. Of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education
University of Virginia

(It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian :)

i think this is why

i have always hated studying english literature. I love words, and i love books. i particularly love poetry, with it's rhythms and melodies and imagery.
I love T.S.Eliot. i used his works as the basis of art works in high school, specifically Rhapsody on a Windy Night.
right now he is hurting me.
I am struggling to write an essay about "the fragmentation and failure of identity in the modern city", in reference to the work of T.S. Eliot. i "get" his work, i understand what he is saying to me, but i understand it in imagery and art work, not fragmentation and failure of identity. and it was pointed out to me tonight that my biggest issue/block with this is that i don;t want to face my own identity or lack there of. and that is true and correct. I am fairly aware of the fact that there are things in my life that i "handle" that i should probably go and deal with. do i have a sense of abandonment that means i fear commitment? or am i just using that as an excuse to make myself feel better about being the dumpER, rather than the dumpEE. have those two nights of drunken misadventure as a teen had a bigger and deeper impact on my life than i recognise. i don;t know, and i am scared to find out. i am scared to discuss these issues with anyone who may be able to give me the answers. scared to find out the truth. I handle my emotions, my possible (but mostly undiagnosed) depression. I have a good strong brain that makes me get through the days, and i feel both the highs and lows of emotion, but not in a manic way. but am i just handling something that i really should be dealing with? would my life be that much different if i went to see a professional about this and discovered that, yes, i do have issues that need to be brought up and discussed, and put to bed. or maybe i have no issues and i am just a psychiatric hypochondriac.

But i'm scared to find out.

that is all.

who's right?

i have two jobs. one is in a costume hire store, one is in a cafe. i have been working (officially) in the costume store for about 6 weeks, but unofficially for 6 months. the boss knows i have been doing some work, but is unaware of exactly how much (he thinks maybe a day every week or two, truth is closer to a day or two every week). for the next three mondays i am going to be working with the CH store manager, shadowing, then being shadowed to make sure i know what i am doing. i have been working independently and successfully for ages, and in my "training" period with him i have proved that i can do everything he has asked of me, with skill and accuracy. I have proved myself as a competent worker, and yet he continues to treat me as a trainee who must be supervised.

I have been working at the cafe for less than 2 weeks. a grand total of 6 shifts now. last week i was offered the chance to do my certificate 3 in hospitality through them - they pay for me to do the course. this was after 3 shifts. i accepted and today we sat and talked about what it would mean. permanent part time, which means guaranteed hours, holiday pay, sick leave... a qualification i can take with me if/when i decide to move on. a near future promotion to shift supervisor with a view to part time manager by the end of the year.

so. who is right? am i an incompetent noob who has to be watched, or am i a fast learning hard worker worth keeping and training for bigger and better things??? i know which one i am...

that is all.

4 people

there are 4 people i talk to pretty much every day, in one form or another, and my day doesn't feel complete if i don't talk to them. by talk i mean on the phone, in person, by text, or somewhere online, email, twitter, facebook, skype, a chat room, or a ship. the thing about these 4 people is, only one lives in the same area as me, only 2 of them in the same country, and only three in the same hemisphere. yes, i have a friend in america, whom i speak to every day pretty much, and the days we don't actually chat, there is generally some small form of contact, but it just doesn't feel the same. chatting with these people has become integral to my day. i tell these friends that i miss them when i don't see them. i very rarely actually see them in person, except for the one local, who if i don't see twice a week, i feel like i am missing out.

I count myself as so lucky to have these 4 friends, not luckier to have them than my other friends, but these four stand out as part of my day. and i know i fit the same category in their lives.

thank you for being my friends.

that is all

you will one day...

i smoke. sometimes i don't. most people are surprised when they see me smoking for the first time, especially if they've known me for a few years... i'm what you'd call an anti-social smoker. i tend not to smoke around other people. You can't smoke in pubs and clubs here anymore, so it's not like i go out and have a beer and a smoke with friends, most of whom are singers, and most singers don't smoke anyway. i have only 1 or 2 friends who smoke at all, and one of them is only a sometimes smoker, like maybe one every month or so. i don't smoke at cafes because people are eating, and i would rather not do that to non smokers... but all of that is beside the point really.
the point is i have smoked on and off for a great number of years. the longest i have gone without smoking since i started was three years. i think my biggest issue is not that i can't quit, it's that i actually enjoy it. smoking that is, not quitting. i know it's bad for me. i know it smells. i smoke maybe 2 or three a day, so it's not like i am a chimney. some days even when i have some on hand i might not smoke at all. i have lots of friends telling me that i have to quit, it's bad for me, it's bad for my voice. that i can't afford it (which is sometimes true). None of these people "having a go at me" has ever inspired me to quit at all

Yesterday i had a friend say "you will one day". very simple. one day "I" will be ready to quit, for me. not quitting coz someone else is telling me i should. I think this is the closest someone has ever come to inspiring me to quit. i am not about to do it today, but yes, i will, one day.

that is all.

as i changed lanes

completely on autopilot, i had a random remembering of why. i have driven that road and that route for years. when you come around that corner, there is almost guaranteed to be a queue of cars waiting to turn right, and if you aren't in the left lane, you will get caught behind them... but for the first time in a long time, it made me think of the reason i used to travel this route, which is different to the reason i travel it now. i used to know someone who lived up there. now he doesn't live there, and i wish i had never known him. but you can't choose your family.
anyway, once upon a time that trip took my mum 12 mins to do. when i type the addresses in question into google maps, they say it is a 39min trip... times have changed. Mum would never attempt to do that trip at that speed anymore, though she would still make the trip. I would still make it at that speed, but will never go there ever again.
some things that you never think will change, do. and other things just don't. i don't have a point other than that really. was just a random remembering...

that is all.

family dinner

aka Sunday Soup.

early today i got a message. "family night dinner tomm night? are you free?..."
now, it turns out i am free, as i keep sunday nights free almost on principal, and on the not so off chance that i will get a text like that. the thing that thrills me about this text is, it's not from anyone who is related to me. I have been accepted into sunday soup family dinner night, regardless of the fact that i am not family. i can't put into words how special this makes me feel.

that is all.

DNR

yeah, that's right. Do. Not. Resuscitate.

for a long time i have been a believer in something akin to the theory of natural selection, survival of the fittest. If you are born with a genetic life disfiguring disease, and one of the attributes is the inability to reproduce, then perhaps it's a sign from a higher power that you having kids is not meant to be on the card. Do Not seek medical assistance in this matter. if you don't have any other issues, and infertility seems to be just something you got lumped with, then by all means - go for it.

i have always had the view that i don't really want to be old. i don't put an age on this - to me "old" is a state of frailty. the inability to look after yourself anymore, whether it be caused by physical or mental atrophy. that is old. if your 90 (like my grandfather) and still mowing your own lawns and cleaning your own gutters and playing tennis twice a week and giving lectures on nuclear physics at a local community college, then you are not old. if you are 70 and can't get out of bed without help because of a stroke and suffer from dementia making recovery from aforementioned stroke unlikely in the extreme, then you are old.

genetics in my family put me more in the first category than the second, and in that i am lucky. if i get parkinsons at 55, and then dementia at 60 - i don't want to be alive. if i make it 2 to 90 and still wish my kids would walk faster because i have places to be, then let me keep living (and keep up!)

today i read an article that made me think. if i have a stroke that would kill me without medical intervention, then i want to die. if i have a dicky heart that will only keep functioning with a pace maker, then i want to die. if i have cancer that chemo only has a chance of irradiating, or that is inoperable, then i want it to be left to run it's course.

there comes a point where too much medical assistance is too much. sure, if i am going to live anyway then yes, please, make it comfortable. but if without medical help i would die, then it's my time. let me go. I don;t want to live on and be a burden to anyone, and i don't believe that medical miracles are always a miracle.

that is all

we'll chalk that one up to experience.

i have a spare room i am trying to rent out. i put an ad online. today i had 2 people come to look.

the first guy didn't have a lot to say. my friend asked a few questions, one of which gave me quite a shock... "Are you likely to have friends over often?" i mean, of course that makes perfect sense, but i hadn't even thought about that. and the tv and my desk and computer are in the same room... anyway, that's be a no for him...

the second guy walked in and asked if there would be a desk in the room, and would i provide linen, and did i have a drier. no, no and no. he then said it looks good and can he sign the contract. NO...

i have someone else coming on the weekend. we'll see how that goes, but i may end up going with the devil i know...

life can be scarily short

a few months ago a friend of mine was unwell. nothing was said about what, we just knew she'd been in hospital and that she was really tired as a result. I made a few guesses, which were very intelligent, but as it turns out, very wrong. This friend is not yet 30, leads a very healthy lifestyle, eats in moderation, doesn't smoke, exercises, doesn't drink much, eats lots of home grown organic vegies, is slim and gorgeous. picture of everything we all aspire to do and be.

last night i found out her trip to hospital was because she had a heart attack.

at 29, she had a heart attack. i am still processing this, but it terrifies me. sometimes it just doesn't matter how well you look after yourself, or how young you are. life is precarious, and we can't just let it wander on by...

that is all

the fact that you matter isn't always a good thing

A few nights ago i went to see "A little Night Music" with Catherine Zeta Jones and Angela Lansbury. I knew nothing about the show. It was good, and they were both great. without them though, the show would have meant very little to me. they matter, to the exclusion of the show being good.

tonight i went to see "Next to Normal". I really wanted to see Alice Ripley, for a variety of reasons, none of them because i know her work, or even really know anything she has done. I know she won the Tony last year, and i have another fact or three about her, but that's all. I also knew nothing about the show, other than i have heard people say it's pretty heavy, but really good. I sat down, opened my playbill and two little 'understudy' slips fell out. "At this performance the role of DAN will be played by Michael Berry". "At this performance the role of DIANA will be played by Jessica Phillips". flick through playbill, Diana and Dan are the two leads. fuck. there goes Alice Ripley. oh well, such is life, that's what you get seeing a show on a sunday night of a holiday weekend.

Lights down, show starts. within seconds i had a feeling. within a few songs i was wiping tears from my cheeks and wondering if i could buy a songbook. by interval i was wishing i had a tissue and spent $90 on a program, the CD, the song book, a keyring, a hat. I have been found by this show. i can't put it into words. this show is what i needed right now - not because i necessarily associate with the story line, not necessarily because i was feeling down and needed a pick me up (coz this show ain't it). i can't explain it. This show is going to be the new "rent" in my life. the show i will see every chance i get. the show i will know all the words too within a week. the show i will sing as i walk down the street. the show i will perform songs from if i ever get the chance. the show i will tell everyone i can to go and see. (seriously - if you have the chance, SEE IT). the show i will audition to be a part of if it ever gets to amateur theatre in australia, even though the whole cast is only 6 people.
i waited at the stage door after and got signatures. i have never done that before, not even when i finally got the chance to see Rent in NYC. Jessica noted my accent in the three words i said, so i had a chance to say a few more. i told her she was amazing, that i had come to see the show "on spec" (which is mostly true) and that it was just amazing that i had to buy the lot! She is gorgeous, amazingly talented. I am so glad to have seen the show.
The clincher here is that She didn't matter. Alice didn't matter. The show matters. the show carried itself. She was brilliant. she matters, but not to the exclusion of the show.

that is all

thing to remember about NYC

look left, keep right. the light switches are upside down, the toilets are just fuller and even though it looks like a zebra crossing, it isn't one...

it's the little things. the smell of the subway, the smell in the hallway that reminds me of the little softener sheets i used to put in with the clothes to dry.

Monday may 24th. again. still. on the subway. Across from me is a lady, i'm gonna say she's Korean, about 50. not sure why korean, she could be from any asian country, she just strikes me as korean. she is enjoying her own company greatly, chatting, laughing, smiling. just really happy. makes her look a bit mad, , but who are we to judge? i've been known to be walking down the street and been hit by a memory, or a thought, or a future plan and it cracks me up, or makes me smile so hard my cheeks hurt.
Movies on the plane - Avatar, Precious, a Tim Minchin doco and a movie about John Lennon as a boy - nowhere boy i think.
Apparently launch hasn't happened yet and may be being held till all three of us are around.
I need to get a subway map. i have no idea where i am, and only half an idea of where i am going...

things i wanted to tweet from the plane

red wine with my meal - not sure which meal of the day it was though...

finally watching avatar. it's about time.

i really like this blanket. will be glad to add it to my collection

empty seat next to me FTW

the hostesses and stewards are all really lovely

(that was all, there isn't a lot of mental stimulation on planes...)

today i was part of making history.

last night and today the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir made history along with the Sydney detachment of the Royal Australian Navy Band. We did a joint concert. it is the first time the navy band has performed with a gay and lesbian community organisation, the first time any defense in Australia have had a collaboration like this. possibly even the first time in the world.

i have a few different trains of thought about this. in no particular order...

everything we do every day is "making history". yeah some of it is really boring history, like going to the shops, or looking for employment, or feeding the cat. i'm sure no-one much cares about these parts of my life, but maybe one day in the very distant future someone will look back on this, and the (current day) very ordinary fact that i am writing a blog about it, and say "wow, is that how they did things in 2010" we can never know this for sure. i know i love social history, not about dates and facts and wars and treaties, but about dances and letter writing, and courting, and dress making. the every day stuff that we don't think of as making history...

thought 2. i'm really glad to have been part of something that comes under the heading of "slightly more interesting history". I'm glad that we have had the opportunity to break down some of the perceived barriers between the military, and the GLBTIQ community. and it was a great show too....

final thought...now, one fact i must point out is that i am in australia. we don't have any policy about gay people serving in the defense forces. if you want to serve your country, you can, no matter ur sexual preferences. this is as it should be. why should it matter who i sleep with if i was fighting to defend my country, my people, my nations ideals etc.
my thought is that i am a little saddened that we need to do concerts like this to break down people's perceptions of the military, and the gay community. this concert was born of the choirs desire to perform with a military band. our musical director contacted the defense gay and lesbian information service (DEFGLIS), and it all came together really well. admittedly, the band is comprised of soldiers, people who follow orders for a living, and people who were told that this is the show they are going to do next and that's just the way it is. But they were all really great people. the tenor sax player is in fact a lesbian, so i'm sure she was really glad to be a part of it. the only comment she made to me was when she was carting stuff past me for about the 5th time, and her comment was that being a pack horse came with the job. The bass trombone player asked me halfway through the first show if he could get tickets for the next day so his sister could come. they are just a band (who looked and sounded fantastic) and we are just a community choir. that's how i wish the world viewed us all, not as the gay and lesbian choir, and the band made up of soldiers who by definition must be a little stand offish with us because we are gay. we have come so far in recent decades, but there is still so far to come.

on a slightly different note, this evening (and by this evening, i mean the hours between 11:30pm and 1am) i was having a conversation with a friend in the USA which started out being about "lesbianisms" (like u-hauls and toaster ovens) and ended up being about what we face each day, having to come out regularly, and her trying to get an understanding about what it's like to be in our shoes. It was a really great conversation, and one i will never get tired of having, because every person who wants to know these things is a person on our side. it also added a whole new level of appreciation for this friend, that she wants to spend time asking questions and watching movies, and reading books and just getting to know what it feels like from the other perspective.

that is all (i think...)

good things that happened today

my shower was really nice and hot
i got to work on time.
i got coffee
i got a box from Wine selectors!!!! upon checking it later, it turned out to be 4 really nice red wine glasses and a bottle of 2004 cab sav shiraz - multi-award winner. apparently mum singed up to wine selectors coz i am signed up, and so i got a free gift!
as i was leaving work i noted that there was pink fluff on the carpet. mum said i could iron the carpet tomorrow.... made me laugh
mum told me we are having my b'day dinner tomorrow. about a month early...
i got a really sweet text message from a friend. (i still need to reply)
i had yummy steamed things for dinner.

there were other things that were less fun, but i decided not to dwell on them, and only think about the good things.

that is all.

old money.

i got handed an old $5 note the other day. it wasn't a fantastic old paper one, it was that first plastic one, with the wishy washy colours that people obviously complained about, because it got changed...

back in the good old days we had notes for all the dollar amounts. $1 was brown, $2 was green, $5 - pink-ish, $10 - blue, $20 - orange, $50 kinda yellow, $100 a very boring grey. (some pictured here and others here ). i remember in 1988 i saved up a months pocket money to go to the bank before school (we started school at 9:25am) and get a brand new $2 coin. i showed everyone in my class and all the teachers (i was 8...) and then promptly spent it on a candy induced belly ache...
when i was a teen $5 and higher were changing from paper to plastic. i decided to collect them as they were phased out, and had $88 stuck to my wardrobe door for a good few moths. then one day they were gone, and my sister said the neighbour must have stolen them. we used to leave our back door unlocked. but i was not that naive... wasn't much i could do about it though, but the upshot is i no longer have all bar one of the paper notes...

being handed an old wishy washy just reminded me, that's all.

the filing cabinet...

and instant noodles...

tonight i had to go down to the filing cabinet. it's in the garage, and squashed up against other stuff that i am storing there, like a punching bag and half a house full of antique furniture. I needed to find the certificate that says i can responsibly serve alcohol, and therefore can get a job in any establishment that sells alcohol. a very useful thing to have these days, and didn't cost me anything to get when i did it 6yrs ago. Thankfully my certificate and transcript were in a box on top of the filing cabinet so no heavy lifting was required *putting my butch card away, undusted*
While i was there i also found some old transcripts which i might need when i enroll in a university preparation course tomorrow. ya know, i'm 30 now, figured it was probably about time i went to uni... and i have finally found something that inspires me enough to want to live on instant noodles for the next 4yrs. So, in honour of my enrollment tomorrow, i am having instant noodles for dinner. right now, at 10:31pm, and straight from the pyrex measuring jug in which i cooked them in the microwave. so very student life style. all i need is a beer and i would have this thing in the bag! *sipping my G&T* whaaaa!?!?!!

while i was looking for my RSA i also found a highly entertaining letter from a teacher, written to my mother in may 1994. i was about to be 15. the fact that i have it, and it has been severely scrunched and then flattened suggests to me that my mother never saw it...
but here it is for you, typed out exactly as written.

25.5.1994
Languages Faculty
Dear Mrs Clarke (not only spelt wrong, but my mother went by Ms.)
We are very concerned about Alex progress/conduct/attendance in Latin.
What particularly concerns us regarding your son/daughter is:
~ regular histrionic behaviour & lack of self control.
~ disruptions to others through talking and above.
~ underachievement in classwork & tests
~ lack of positive attitude to do the right thing.
~ short attention span & inability to focus due to other agenda
~ she is difficult to discipline and very volatile
We would be pleased to discuss this matter with you. Please call the school for an appointment with your son/daughter's subject teacher, Ms. Diana Fraser.
Your faithfully
N.W. JENNINGS
HEAD TEACHER, LANGUAGES


Now, Mr Jennings wouldn't have been able to identify me if he walked into our classroom, and there were only about 12 of us in the class.
I remember making life Hell for Ms fraser, for a very short period. I loved Latin, and i loved my latin teacher in yr 7 and 8, and then over summer she was gone and we had Ms Fraser. if i had not been such a pain in the arse i could have easily passed latin, even got close to 100%. the language makes sense, and she would translate everything for us in class. if i had just written stuff down i could have aced the class. but something about her rubbed me the wrong way. quite possibly it was the fact that she translated everything for us in class. there was no autonomy in her class room. not long after the letter she kicked me out, and said i was not welcome back in her class until i had been to see the counselor. Now seeing a counselor is useless if you are sent there, i know this for a fact, my mother sent me to one when i came out. I had no intention of going to see the school counselor, so i just didn't go to class for two months. when i returned to class she was as sweet as pie to me. She put the rest of the class on yellow slips one day, but not me (yellow slips have to be signed by every teacher for a week to say you attended class and behaved. not sure what the consequence was though). for a few months i paid attention, wrote stuff down, got a really good mark on my end of yr exam that year. over the summer i seem to recall something being said about her not wanting me in her class the following year. Now, this was a 2yr course, and as i'm sure you can imagine by the small size of my class, there was no other latin class for me to attend, so i went to see my year adviser and she sorted it out. I went to latin, continued as i had at the end of the previous year, behaving, paying attention, doing well. then one day, mid term, mid week, completely without warning we had a new teacher. i thought he was a substitute teacher and so asked jokingly if Ms Fraser had gone. when he said yes i almost fell over. now i didn't much like him either, but he was just boring, and made us do the work ourselves (as we should have been for the previous yr and a bit). this is where it showed that i had not been listening for over 6 months. my final exam mark for Latin was 9%. yes that's correct. 9%. the grade on my report card is a D. how the hell you get a percentage mark in single figures and not get a fail is beyond me. I still love latin, but the phrases i have retained are useless. i can say thing like "alas, the dog is annoying me" (ehue, canis et meum vexat), "oh no, i'm dead" (ecce, mortuus sum), "mother is in the hall, the dog is in the street" (Mater est in atrio, canis est in via) and "Grumio is in the kitchen pleasing the slave girl" (Grumio est in culina, delectat ancilla). that last one is my favourite.

but seriously. why did i ever choose to study latin???

the date..

quite recently it was 26/4/10. i had to write the date down a few times that day. and half the time i did it i wrote 26/10/4. i have no idea why i kept getting it wrong, but it led me to thinking maybe that date had some psychic significance.
so, what was i doing on Oct 26, 2004... well my friends twins were born on sept 21, so they would have been just coming home from the hospital - they were premmie... I might have been just getting my arm out of plaster, i had broken it at karate b4 the twins were born. my partner was less then three weeks away from giving birth, which probably means we were at the hospital, at least sometime within a week we would have been at any rate. we spent a lot of time there. work was boring, but there were a few layoffs about a month later, not me. there was a huge thing going on which i won't talk about, but i don't recall anything specific about it happening that day.

so the long and short of it is, i don't know. when we look back in our lives do we ever remember what happened on a specific random day? i know we remember the big things, but if you had to pick a random day of the year 6 years ago, what do you remember???

working with mum...

or "how to feel like a teenager all over again".

“By the way, I know I’m this confident, ‘out’ person on the outside, but there’s still part of me that’s like this 16-year-old scared girl who is in the locker room and doesn’t want to look up for fear that the other girls will think she’s looking at them…”
Nicole Pacent said it right. and it's a real thing, that so many of us experience, and still struggle with. I don't know what goes through str8 girls minds when they are in the same situation, coz i'm not a str8 girl. it doesn't matter that i'm not interested in any of the bodies around me in a dressing room, but i worry that the other girls will think i am looking because i am gay, so i keep my eyes down, or face the wall. i'm not modest. i really don't care if you see me in my underwear. i don't care if your male, female, gay or straight, if we're getting changed you will see my underwear. meh, no biggy. If i am interested in dating you then i will care more, but only because, like most women, i lack body confidence.

so how does this relate to working with my mother? She manages a costume shop. She is a costumier by trade. Her work and training and qualifications means she spends a lot of time with people in their underwear, and when they go see her they expect that. I have been working with her, but have done everything i can to avoid helping people with fastenings or fittings or anything like that. it comes back to that fear that people will think i am looking at them. we get school kids through to grandparents in the shop, trying on costumes. it's what we do, and it's why they come, but it's generally only the women who need help with fastenings - it's the nature of the costumes they wear. and because i work there i guess they expect me to have the level of professionalism, and maybe i'll become confident in that thought one day, but right now the fear wins, and Mum just doesn't understand. which takes me back to "what do str8 girls think". by the way my mother acts and reacts i could take it that it's not an issue. but then again, as stated, this is her career, her trade.

but i hate feeling like a teenager. it wasn't that much fun first time around.

since forever ago...

my cat is an odd ball. he is on prozac. lately he has started to settle. i really like it. the things i love most about him.. when he's settled, when he is following all his own little routines that i know and expect. when i wake up he try's to convince me to feed him b4 i shower. he always fails, follows me into the bathroom, and as soon as i turn on the water he leaves. when i get out he then sits on the mat between my feet and stays there till i hang up my towel. when i sit in a particular spot he will wonder around my legs, waiting for me to pull his tail. when i get pizza he will sit on the box. if he can't have any, then neither can i...
there are some routines i am less excited about. he will wait till i am cleaning the litter to go... he will sit on the clean washing and leave it covered in hair. when i am putting clean sheets on the bed he will try and get under the sheets, in the quilt cover, every where, super hyperactive, and i always end up with scratches.... i totally understand why my friends have taken to calling him cunter...

but i love him....

the river

every day i cross this river twice. i cross this piece of my childhood, so integral in the life of sydney. the river that starts as a creek and becomes what i believe to be one of the most beautiful harbours in the world. I grew up by this river, in this river, on this river. playing in the mangroves and on the fairy's island down near the elephant cage at the end of my street. we'd leave in the morning and come home wet and dirty when our bellies said it was lunch time. as i got older there was sailing, rowing and canoeing on the river. surfing ferry waves in kayaks. floating in an upturned canoe, kissing in an upturned canoe because no-one else existed in the world at that time. sailing and constantly being terryfied of capsizing in the ferry channel. rowing to abbotsford alone in tom thumb, all the boys in arrowhead. beating the boys, proving that i was as good as them, and better. taking the row boats our for late night picnics. standing thigh deep in the most horrible sticky black mud at low tide, the only way to get out being to lie down. campfires on the beach. dead grass after a king tide. running and bombing off the end of the pier at tingira - completely against the rules, but so much fun. fetching soccer balls b4 they get too far.
i miss the times i've spent with this river. it is an old friend who will always be there for me. I would have as much trouble leaving it as i would leaving sydney.
everyday i cross this river twice, and my childhood lives on in my mind and i look forward to the next time i can get back in.

that is all.

girls night out

aka, a big weekend...

on thursday night. after i had taken my car on a date to the movies i dropped in at post choir drinks - which is always lovely. at least a dozen of us, sometimes closer to 20, invade a local cafe/bar and completely dominate the outdoor area! right there we planned for all 6 of the "cleavage club" (the younger group of women in the choir, most of us have ample cleavage...) to go see Valentines Day on friday. when planning this i had forgotten that i have guides on a friday now, but thankfully we went to a later session and so i only had to leave guides a little early.

anyhoo, got to the movie - no-one bought Libby a ticket, so we had to sneak her in.... there was a seat for her, and she did buy a ticket, just not the same movie... i won't review the movie except to say it is the same premise as Love Actually, but different enough to not beg too much comparison.
about halfway through the movie we could here water running. lots of it. when we had arrived it was hot and muggy and we knew a storm was coming. it was loud, but not so completely annoying that you couldn't still enjoy the movie. you could tell it was in the roof. after about 5 or 10 mins, the sound changed. all of a sudden the running water was inside... in three points the roof started leaking. it was running at about the pace you would turn on a tap to wash ur hands - really pouring in through the roof. we had a laugh, someone went to tell the people, but there was nothing they could do. when the movie finished we went to play in the huge puddles that had formed in the carpet.. we splashed and played like kids, and took photo's. Candy had her brollie so there are pics of us standing under the shower... it was so much fun, esp after a generally entertaining movie. if you go see it stay for the beginning of the credits - there are out takes - funny stuff.

saturday - slept a little late.. had rehearsal from 10-4, but it was so hot we ended up finishing early. lunch time conversation - a lot of laughs. and as so often happens we flick through a huge variety of topics, but come back and forth to sex about 15 times in an hour... then back home after that, with some of the girls, we had over an hour to get ready to go out for the night. they all had to straighten their hair... so girly for a bunch of lesbians...
dinner of pizza and wine, then on to karaoke. i haven't been a non designated driver for years... and the birthday girl wanted lots of songs sung for her b'day, so starting at dinner and going right through karaoke and on to Max Brenner for coffee after we sang the whole night. we had randoms stopping on the side of kings st in newtown to listen to us sing! none of it was classy, but it was all fun. it was a great saturday.

in a few hours i have to get ready to go out to a movie launch... About a yr ago the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir performed henry purcells "fairy queen". We were the first G&L choir to ever put on a full opera. it was documented and tonight that documentary is being launched. really looking forward to it - another night out with my choir friends, who i love so dearly.

that is all.

fault and human traits.

"When it comes to Terry's part of it, and Alima's, I'm sorry—and I'm ashamed. Of course I blame her somewhat. She wasn't as fine a psychologist as Ellador, and what's more, I think she had a far-descended atavistic trace of more marked femaleness, never apparent till Terry called it out. But when all is said, it doesn't excuse him. I hadn't realized to the full Terry's character—I couldn't, being a man." - Herland, Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman

I am reading Herland at the moment. It's a utopian society that for thousands of years has been entirley comprised of women. this section that i have copied here is basically about rape. it is never stated so harshly, and it was written in a time when marital rape didn't exist - or more accurately wasn't defined as a crime, or even an act. if you married a man you had given up ur right to say no... the implication given by the narrator is that Alima is as much to blame for the rape as Terry, because she is female, and also because she didn't or couldn't explain to terry well enough about the beliefs of her world that meant that sex wasn't for any purpose other than procreation, because that is the natural order of things in the animal kingdom. He is to be absolved of some of the blame because he is male and it is his nature and right as a MAN to "have" his wife.

i am simmering this right down to basic principals, read the book to get the whole story - it's not that long.
so it's her upbringing and culture and custom of her people for thousands of years to not have sex. it's his upbringing and culture and customs of his people for thousands of years that when you get married you own the woman and therefore she has no right, no thought, to say no to you in any matter.
therefore both are responsible for the act that took place, her for not submitting, him for not seeing her as different to the women of his world who had been rasied with the same ideals and beliefs as he had.

Me being me, a woman who was born in the late 20th Century, strong minded, strong willed, opinionated, i struggle with seeing how Alima can be at fault in this situation. Men don't rule the world, certainly not my world. it scares me that it was 1991 before the australian high court abolished a ruling that exempted any husband from being convicted of rape if his victim was his wife (though South Australia had partially abolished this as "early" 1975). i am not a complete innocent and totally blinkered in this world, but i struggle to see how a woman/victim can EVER be at fault for rape.

maybe this is another reason why we don't have as many children per family as we used to...

where do we draw the line though. where do we say, it's not ur fault, it's the way you were raised, it's not ur fault it's just part of ur nature and ur culture. if i was raised in a culture that existed entirley on communal food and then came to work in an office, would i be allowed to raid the fridge and eat whatever i wanted because it is how i was raised? if i was raised to believe that the elderly and terminally ill are a burden on society and therefore they must be left to nature to deal with (euthanasia through omission of care), would i be unaccountable under Australian law which still outlaws euthanasia? i think the answer most people would agree in both cases is i would still be at fault and accountable under whatever system of government there was.

just reconciling thought in my head..

that is all...

i thought i had written this

i already thought i had written about this but i can't find it anywhere

i'm watching star wars. revenge of the sith. Anikan does it all for love. he turns to the dark side because he has a premonition that his wife is going to die. he is trying to save her, instead he ends up being the reason she dies.

how often do we all do something out of love, or for the best intention and it all goes wrong. they said it in Wicked too - no good deed goes unpunished, no act of charity goes unresented. was said in Xena too, frequently, by Ares.

i'm not sure i have a point, but it's just a thought that runs around my head every now and then, and makes me think.

"Was I really seeking good
Or just seeking attention?
Is that all good deeds are
When looked at with an ice-cold eye?"


that is all

just because

you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not after you.




that is all.

gay marriage is wrong because...

i found this whilst wandering around the interwebz and wanted to share..


1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control are not natural.
2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people cannot get legally married because the world needs more children.
3. Obviously gay parents will raise gay children because straight parents only raise straight children.
4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful, since Britney Spears’s 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.
5. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and it hasn’t changed at all: women are property, Blacks can’t marry Whites, and divorce is illegal.
6. Gay marriage should be decided by the people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of minorities.
7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of the official state religion are always imposed on the entire country.
8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people makes you tall.
9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage license.
10. Children can never succeed without both male and female role models at home. That’s why single parents are forbidden to raise children.
11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven’t adapted to cars or longer lifespans.
12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a “separate but equal” institution is always constitutional. Separate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as separate marriages will for gays & lesbians.

love and hate monday...

monday. the day we all love to hate. it makes sunday nights uncool just by association.
i was sitting on the loo thinking - coz that's where so many of us do our best thinking (and there is scientific reasoning behind this, to do with letting ur mind wander and being able to recognise that "ah hah!" moment...) about things i love and hate..

i love my new chucks - white, covered with tiny black stars.
i hate talking to people in public toilets.
i hate that self confidence, or a lack of it, can be so debilitating.
i hate that i missed out on saying good bye last night because of it.
i love that it was commented on.
i love that i was included in the "you don't need to rush off" group.
i hate the fact that she told me i "missed out" once before.
i love that i had an opportunity to miss...
i love anticipation
i hate anticipation

that is all

schools back...

Have you ever floated a leaf down a creek in the country, or watched a gum wrapper meander along the rain? it's peaceful. sometimes watching students can be like that. better when you can't hear them.
Students en masse are like water. slow moving water... they will find the path of least resistance. not always the fastest way, but without fail, the easiest. so if you want a pleasent stroll stick with the students. if you want to get somewhere quickly, maybe find another way..

I haven't caught a train consistently since i left high school. i have recently started catching the train to work three days a week, on the smae line that i used to catch in school. this morning, now that school is back, i was surrounded by fortians (Fort St students - once a fortian, always a fortain) as i got off the train. the scary thing is that they were instantly recognisable by their uniforms. in my day (when we had to walk up hill 5 miles both ways in the snow just to get to school...) Fortians were conspicuous for their lack of uniform... how times have changed....

that is all. just a little trp down my memory lane..

huge. massive.

Big. Day. Out!

for the second time i have been privileged enough to get to do volunteer work at the BDO, which means free entry. a more then fair trade if you ask me!

Yesterday was the day. woke up early than i wanted to but later than i should have, after being awake for about an hour in the middle of the night... on the "track work" bus, into Olympic Park, breakfast with some friends and then in to do my 4hr shift. Wristbanding over 18's. Not strenuous, but busy and monotonous. this year we shared the wristbanding space with "the wormhole" a dance space that was basically dark and had strobes and laser lights. great music. the other bonus about wristbanding is that you get to sit in the cool for the hottest hours of the day!

out of there and off to see Esky mojo (eskimo joe...). I always forget how much i love live music till i am there in it and can feel the beat reverberating in my chest. it's better than any drug. anyway. the blue stage and orange stage are right next to each other and bands alternate one side to the other so there is no lag time for set up between acts. I stayed in front of the stage Hilltop Hoods were about to be on, so i couldn't see esky mojo, but i did hear them sing "i don't understand the point of fingers".
Hilltop hoods were awesome, but the mosh pit was hectic. i am very thankful i made it out with all my limbs attached. i have a few random bruises and scratches, but no major injury. there were people being taken out over the top because they just couldn't handle it. within about 2 mins of them starting i was soaking wet, filthy dirty, and covered in other peoples sweat... LOVED IT!

Next was Dizzee Rascal, so i went to the loo and to get some water, then came back for Lily Allen. i was thinking about getting to the front but after the hoods i wasn't so sure. looking at the lily crowd on the big screen though, it was very calm... oh well. she was amazing. she has a huge power for someone so small!

I finally found my friends, which i had been trying to do for 4hrs, and we wandered around for the rest of the day fairly aimlessly. we handed around my worker wrist band so they could use the Staff loo's as the lines to use the others were horrendous!

for the rest of the day i saw a little bit of calvin harris, a little lady hawke, went on an awesome ride, bought 1/4 of a watermellon for a dollar, bought glow sticks and danced like a raver to muse, heard a little bit of grinspoon, went to the worm hole but it was closed down (news this morning says man in critical condition after drug overdose - that was probs why the worm hole was closed), went dancing in the jager cube - had my first jager bomb - an experience i plan on repeating!, then went to groove armada. they were awesome!

got back to my house at 1am, realised i had picked up the wrong spare key in the morning... drove to my mothers only to find that the screen door was locked so i couldn't break in to get my other spare key, so i slept in my car outside her house until she came out at 7:30 this morning and gave me my key!!! came home, finally showered!!!!! and now i want to sleep some more. my plans today are maybe hang out with some friends. if i nap now, that will work out really well... so i'm gonna take my dizzy little exhausted head for some time in lala land...

that is all.

fame! i'm gonna live forever...

i'm gonna learn how to fly..

well no, not really. i'm reading Lady Chatterley's Lover (can anyone tell me if it's worth persisting, this is my second try. so far it's less interesting that chaucers canterbury tales, which are a great read).
"Connie wondered a little over Clifford's blind, imperious necessity to become known: known, that is, to the vast amphorus world he did not himslef know, and of which he was uneasily afraid:"
this made me think of fame, being known in a world you may not even know yourself, especially child stars, so insulated for their own sake, so they can have a chance at normalcy. But what is normal about being cloistered. would famous kids be better off going to main stream schools in the public eye? they would have to be of good character though, because the media would burn them for the slightest indiscretion.
but what of adults? 'hard work and years of perserverance' kind of thing. the effort to BE known. then the small look into what it's really like - great popularity in a specific arena, still able to walk down the street, but unable to get across a room of gathered fans, everyone knowing who you are but forever wanting to know more - what do you keep for yourself? what do you keep OF yourself? do you remain the open book of the child star? do you let the media, the fans, see it all and hope that your character is good enough? or do you follow the P!nk school of thought - if they are going to hear it i want them to hear it from me. I think by being less enigmatic you become less interesting, less of a senstaion, but do you also lose part of yourself?

that is all...

remind me.

every now and then we all need reminding of what we mean. to people, to one person, to the world.
as i've been unpacking my life (yay!) i've found a few little bits and pieces that i have missed seeing day to day. this one i thought i would share with you. it is a note written to me, not by me, by an intelligent and independent young woman who i had the pleasure to lead. She was a natural outcast, considered by many to be snobbish or difficullt, and as a teenager, that hurt her. i didn't try to pigeon hole her, i just took each meeting and each emotion as it came. I was myself with her, more than many others i lead that year, because i trusted her to be able to handle me. whilst others found her hard to discipline, i found no need to discipline her at all.

"We can all be angels to one another. We can choose to obey the small stirring within, the little whispers that say 'go. ask. reach out. be an answer to someone's plea. you have a part to play. have faith.' we can decide to risk that he is indeed there, watching, caring, and cherishing us as we love and accept love. the world will be a better place for it and wherever they are the angels will dance" ~ Joan Wester Anderson ++ "Acept the things to which fate binds you and love the people with whom fate brings you together with but do so with all your heart." ~ Marcus Aelius Aurelius ++ I don't think you really need to be told that quote becoz you are the emodiment of the meaning as expressed through these words. Throughout gang show YOU have been MY angel showing me unconditional love and acceptance when everything seemed so dim. Through your spirit and light it gave me the permission, nay the comfortable arena, in which i could freely just be myself. A, I cannot express to you what you have done for me, nor can i explain what you mean to me. You showed me your whole heart, no questions asked. U are amazing, beautiful and more. You reached out to me and my time at gangshow was made better for it. Aye for an old fart you're pretty cool. and i guess angels must be dancing. <3 E.

that is all.

things to meet, people to do.

Dr Suess said it. Oh, the places you'll go! go read it, it's amazing how much deeper it is without the pictures, and with an adult mind in your head. it should be given to all high school students to read as a serious text. but i digress...

i have been saying "things to meet, people to do" for ages. in my head i always connect it with the above mentioned Dr Suess, and also, going places to meet people. recently i have found an entire community of friends online, and i have had to go nowhere to meet them. admittedly i have gone places and met a few, but they are not any more special to me than those i have not met. but there are some who stand out in my day, they know who they are. but just coz sometimes it helps... Jen, and Jen (one slightly more famous than the other) Chrystal (don't forget the H) Corx, Dax, Evil, hope and hope (again, one better known than the other) Abigail, Nat, RENEE!!!, bec and moni and a cindy or two (equally infamous in this case). if ur name isn't here, it doesn't mean i don't care, or i don't think ur funny, but these peeps, these friends stand out above the rest. these friends bring a smile to my day, a shoulder to my tears, and ear to my troubles and a laugh to my (sometimes lame) jokes. My life is richer because of you.

that is all.

i have a hip hugging laundry basket

and a slight headache. let me take something for it and get right back to you.


so, where was i. oh yeah, headache. brought on in no small part by dehydration and probably from a bit of exhaustion, but i can guarantee it's not a hangover. or if it is it's a day late...

yesterday was NYE. Sydney is an amazing place to be on NYE because we have a beautiful harbour to sit around, and an amazing bridge, and we have some of the best fireworks i have ever seen, and i have seen plenty of fireworks, including NYC on NYE 2003.

i left home at 8am on NYE to head to the city to stake out my plot of land for maximum viewing pleasure. i was saving space for what would eventually be 7 of us, but was planned for a fluctuating 5. picture a harbour, now make it prettier, add friends and friendly strangers, some sun, some fun and you have NYE to a tee. in the 19 hours i was out i peed once, which is a skill well worth having when it's a 20min queue for port-a-loo's. i ate almost consistently, but no real meals were had, i went from being stretched out and spacious to sitting upright and perhaps just a little cramped. by the time the 9pm fireworks started i had my family and friends with me, and i had also met two lovely random strangers who became part of our party. Sydney does countdown fireworks, a couple of red bursts with 10 mins to go, then a little red shower from the bridge at 5 mins, and even a count down projected on the bridge. the 9pm (family) fireworks were good, but showed nothing of the spectacular that was to come. 10pm, one cracker. 11pm, another cracker, 11:30, a couple. then 15 mins, 10 mins, 5 mins, and an awesome gold pulsing explosion from one of the buildings across the harbour for the countdown. then about 15 mins of fire works, choreographed to music, ebbing and flowing, pulsing and growing, from the top of the bridge, the middle of the bridge, falling from the road base of the bridge, all along the full length, in canon and all at once, from 4 barges in the harbour (there were more, but i could see 4).

then the half an hour sit around and wait for the crowd to thin a little, the 30 odd min walk to the nearest train that we won't have to wait an hour to get onto, then the 15 train home. finally got home at 3am, having been out of the house for 19 hours. i had a shower and fell into bed. i have so many photo's and one story that ran all day to share.
i was sitting on a sandstone wall of a little bay that has been enclosed as a swimming hole. when i arrived in the morning the tide was high, the pool was full. the tide spent about the next 4 hours going down, leaving the pool as an enclosed sand pit essentially. high tide was due again at 9pm. people kept going to sit on the sand... we warned every single person that walked past us to get onto the beach that the tide would come up and they would get wet. most didn't listen, and from about 6pm we laughed as we watched them all creap further and further away from the rising water. it was just too funny, there were floating shoes, wet tripods, expensive camera's held aloft. we laughed every time a wave crashed over the break. we had warned them all and they hadn't listened. it was higlhy entertaining for those of us who had arrived at9am or earlier to get good spots with a clear view.

Happy New Year

that is all.

this is the season...

Xmas. i went to church. twice. once for bells, smells and smoking handbags, and one was clap and wave...
these roughly translate to High Anglican and Baptist.
High Anglican - there was a bishop hat, there were lots of "pastors" in dresses. communion was real wine and fake bread. lots of carols with a pipe organ. SEVEN verses of o come all ye faithful... yes, 7 verses... the pastor was passionate. a little dry, but passionate. it was a lovely service by candle light, lots of carols.
this morning was baptist church, bordering on pentecostal - wave ur hands in the air like you just don't care - kinda thing... the pastor was not only passionate, but he was excited too. it was infectious. the music was a band, 2 keyboard, 2 guitars, drums and 4 singers. seriously great worship music.
last night's sermon was about giving to each other and the sense of community. todays sermon was about the gift of jesus, wrapped like all xmas gifts. and we don't leave any other pressies under the tree, so we should unwrap and accept the gift of jesus.
now, i went to church, i was christened as a baby, i had my confirmation when i was 14 or so. i was part of the youth ministry team and the music ministry team when i was 16-18. then i came out to my mother. and she told a friend who was the minister's wife. i was asked to leave my ministry, so i left the church. now i sing a lot. i am in 2 choirs currently. generally i am in three, every now and then 4. i rehearse a minimum twice a week. i perform minor shows at least once a month, major shows up to 6 times a year. so i sing heaps... but i miss music ministry. there really is nothing that compares with praising god by singing. i have never felt on any stage singing any song what i have felt at the front of a church worshiping god. that is about the only thing i miss about church. and although both services were insanely different, and the baptist service this morning was really very good, i have no desire to return to church. but i do still, and always will miss music ministry...

Merry Christmas

That is all.

not sure

i'm really not sure what i did. i don't even know if i did anything. but for some reason i seem to be getting no responses. but i'm kinda happy coz i'm more pissed off than upset, so that means a step forward, no matter how small...

i AM a grown up

really i am... been living at mums for about three months. move out on monday.
this morning i got up after 5 hours sleep and sleepily wandered to the ironing board with dress in hand to wear today. i have two xmas parties on today. mum offered to iron it while i went and had a shower.
whilst in the shower i hear through the door, ur dress has a mark on it, want me to wash it and bring it to you at work? you can wear my xmas skirt and dear santa t-shirt for the morning if you want (shirt - Dear Santa, Define good...). i replied don't worry about the washing but yeah if i could borrow her clothes that would be great (i have plenty of clothes but i really like the dear santa shirt!). i got out of the shower and she had already hand washed my dress and put it in the machine to spin dry, and had started cutting up fruit for my breakfast. while i ate breaky she went down to check my dress in the machine and it turned out that somehow the machine had put some orange stains on it, so she put it in to soak and apologised that she wouldnt be able to bring it to me to change...

isn't she just the sweetest!!!

I love you Mum. always and forever. Thank you for being who you are, and for raising me to be who i am.

that is all.

is that all?

why can't i just stop hoping. if i could just get that to stop then maybe everything else would be ok...

that is all.

I had a dream...

that line is the start of so many things. martin luther, a song on the Baz Lurhman Romeo and Juliette soundtrack. i'm going with the second one.. but anyway, i had a dream last night..
my first GL/Venice Dream.
Not the "freakin super hero" Crystal Chappell, not the "adorabley gorgeous" Jessica Leccia, not the "worlds first lesbian mayor" Orlagh Cassidy, not even "i'm addicted to twitter and making dreams come true" kimmy T. Nope, the object of my desires seems to be "the enigma" Hope Royaltey.
It felt like i was in NYC, but logic tells me it was LA. Kimmy lived acros the road and up a few houses.
I was walking along the road + got to opposite Hope's house + stopped. there were a few guys over the road and then hope appeared, just getting home it seemed. she made eye contact with me, kind of acknowledged me and then went inside. i knew she wanted me to wait. in a few moments the guys left and Hope re-opened the door to let me in. i don't think we had ever met but she knew who i was - no introductions. the outside of the building was art deco style - 4 appartments, two up two down, but inside seemed much older, bigger rooms, high ceilings, flooded with light. most of the rooms were empty, she was obviously re-decorating. i offered my services with a paintbrush, but she said she wasn't up to painting yet, so i said i was equally skilled with a sanding block - she'll keep that in mind.
not long after Kimmy came over and (unconnected) Hope suddenly needed crutches. As if she only had so much strength in a day and she was all out. She had a big TV that needed to be moved, so i offered thinking Kimmy would help me, but somehow (love dreamland) Hope helped me, crutches and all. We ended up backing into the table she wanted it on and both sitting with the TV on our laps having a giggle, she nodded and we got up together and moved it to where it should be.
Than my alarm went off and i was running late so i couldn't ignore it and keep dreaming.
there wasn't much furniture in her place - her bedroom was done + there were couches, TV, dining table and that was about it. we were really comfortable together, even having apparently never met. Kimmy didn't bat an eyelid at my presence at all. wish i could have kept sleeping...

that is all.

moments and years

it's 2:52am. i'm going to try something different. i generally have a thought in my head and my blog posts come out very quickly, 5 - 10 mins tops. tonight, this morning really, i am going to write about the year that is now coming to an end, as a series of moments. due to the delight of editing and retyping i am going to put them in chronological order as much as i can. i am listening to "I didn't just kiss her" by Jen Foster, "Heal Over" by KT Tunstall and "Miss Me" by Kat Parsons. i've also learnt how to put links into my blog!

my friends and i were talking tonight about the fact that the year is almost over and we are all generally glad to see the back of it, coz wehave all had some completely shitty moments. i have had some really shitty moments too, but i don't think i would say it was a bad year.

1st January - 12:01am. watching the melbourne fireworks on tv. not my idea of how to ring in the new year. disappointment.
Big Day Out - wow. a day spent with my brothers. a day of great music, seeing the prodigy live, hot sweaty, smelly, wet, loud to the point of feeling every beat of music in every fibre of my body. one of the most primal feelings i have ever had in such a public forum. people crammed into a massive space. human life all celebrating sound together. energy to dance came from no-where after a massively long day. just phenomenal. i really can't put it into words.
february - fairy queen. perform an opera with Sydney Gay and Lesbian Choir and some of Australia's up and coming opera stars. this was the building of some great friendships.
so many moments i don't remember early in the year. i know i was miserable overall. hated my place of employment. no respect for a hard job that i did accurately, in a timely manner and without bugging anyone else. yeah i could be belligerent at times, but god damn i have now been gone from there since april, and they still don't have any decent results from the (3rd) person they hired to replace me. if they wanted to pay me more and respect my work i would go back there, but they can't afford me.
wasn't happy at home either. for so many little reasons which i am not going to go into.
april. new job. responsibilities drop about 5 steps, pay goes up about $5k, hours go down by 5. enjoyment of place i work, through the roof. job satisfaction... minimal. monkey button job, wasting my brain and my potential. i can live with that.

ok, it's now 3:47am and my brain is shutting down. i will finish this tomorrow...

now 1pm sunday. just woken up after 9 hrs sleep. lovely.

by this time of year i was really starting to think about my relationship. did i want to be there anymore? i came up wth a no, but then took my time to do anything about that. i spoke to a friend or two, but still was stuck where i was because i just couldn't bring myself to change anything. again, nothing sticks out in my mind. a group of friends were having dinner together every couple of weeks and they were hilarious night's, so many laughs it was fantastic. except that we had called the group the abandoned wives club. the first couple to break was heather and ton. that came as a shock to every single one of us, and Heather was completely devastated and heartbroken, and didn't cope at all for so many months afterwards. she still hasn't gone back to work...
june. my 30th birthday. great party with about 40 people, exactly what i wanted. 10 days later i left rose.
july. discovered GL and Crystal Chappell. took over my life for a while. i was frustrated randomly and it took me a while to work out it was the tension of the show that was making me antsy. spent two weeks on stage in front of up to 700 people every night and i didn't feel it. that really upset me. being onstage is like oxygen to me, performing is what i know, what i do, what i have done since i was about 8yrs old. to get on stage and not feel it after 22 years was not good. so i have not auditioned for the show for next year. that's gonna be a big whole. these people are some of my best and oldest friends and it's going to be weird not seeing them every week for half the year.

ok, this isn't going as i planned... it's taking me forever and i am not thinking well.. suffice to say that this year i have had some terrible lows. i've left a relationship and been left. my heart has had a trampling and i am by no means healed. i have made some amazing new friends, some i have met face to face, some i have not. i have had hysterical tears, caused by both sadness and laughter. i had moments of abject despair. i have moments of bounding joy. over all my year has been tough, i have had some major changes and major heartaches. but when i look back i am happy.

2:42pm. 12 hours. that is all.

contradictionary...

yeah i made up that word... i like it... it has been brought to my attention, so many times in my life, but again recently, what a contradiction i am.
i have a shaved head. my eyelashes are frequetly, and currently, tinted. i also have acrylic nails right now, and even when i can't afford the maintanence of them i take good care of my nails. i wear mens shorts, or dresses. i have 9 tattoos and i like to cross stitch while waiting around at choir. i will hapilly sit in the yard and fix the lawn mower and my favourite toy is meccano. my favourite songs are by mozart and marylin manson. i love chic flicks, and chic lit. i have only recently started wearing womens jeans, and still have a number of mens jeans in my wardrobe. i pay no attention to fashion, but the jeans i bought the other day are the latest style, complete with holes. on the outside i am tough, but i am one of the most loyal and caring friends you could hope for. i'm a big softy. i hate birthdays, or my birthday anyway. i hate all commercial celebration, valntines, mothers day etc, but i love xmas and everything it entails, the carols, the tree, shopping with the masses in the city. most days i'd be happy to be androgynous, though i love my feminine side, but that doesn't mean you can call me a lady. i bake. i wanted to join the army, but they wouldn' take me (on medical grounds).

i'm me.

that is all.

i haven't

written any actual blog for a while. i'm in poetry mode. if you wanna read any of that i keep it here

that is all

...

solicitous love
different to romantic love?
no desire to have anything returned
just wanting to care
and give
and fill a space
to make sure that you want for nothing
that is in my power
to ease the worries, the hurts
to wipe away the tears
and bring back the smile
or hold you while you cry it all out.
can you base a relationship on that?

emotions are people too...

i can't hold on
or maybe better still
i don't want to
please
let me go
let me be at peace
without you
twisting my guts
making me crave
the opportunity to cry
shutting me down
i felt fine
until you came along
and then it was over
that happy bubble
shattered by your peircing insecurities
so please
leave me alone
i don't want you
i don't need you
i can't hold on
please
let me go.

i thought...

and maybe that's my problem. i thought. what i thought, was, if not exactly a plan, then an intention. didn't happen. or more accuratley isn't going to happen. and i just wanna crawl in a ball and cry. which is pathetic really. childish. makes me really unhappy with myself. i can't even write anything decent..

that is all.

someone elses words

VENICE BEACH
Words & Music by Jen Foster
http://www.jenfoster.com/


Hey, you say you’re looking for something you’ve never found
Well, the last time I checked I was lost and wanderin’ around
‘Cause I know just how it feels to be the best thing you ever had
But still not quite good enough to be the last one

And there you go again spinning all your wheels
You never know what you’ve got until you lose it
And here I am still waiting after all these years

You can look all over this great big world
You can look down every street
In every bookstore, on every dance floor
At every girl you meet
You can drive out to California
And chase down all of your dreams
I’m sure you’ll find someone beautiful
But you’ll never, you’ll never find me

Hey, they say that real love is completely letting go
Well, my hands are way up in the air and you’re somewhere in Arizona
Just a few more hundred miles and you’ll have everything you need
Except these arms to hold you when that lie brings you to your knees

And there you go again spinning all your wheels
You never know what you’ve got until you lose it
And here I am still waiting after all these years

You can look all over this great big world
You can look down every street
In every bookstore, in every dive bar
At every girl you meet
And when you look out over the ocean
From the shores of Venice Beach
I know you’ll find the brightest stars
But you’ll never, you’ll never find me
Oh, you’ll never find me...

You can look all over this great big world
You can look down every street
In every bookstore, in every dive bar
At every girl you meet
And when you look out over the ocean
From the shores of Venice Beach
I know you’ll find the brightest stars
But you’ll never, you’ll never find me
Oh, you'll never find me


(i want this to be me. i want to be unfindable in a way. i want to have been the best you ever had, but you didn't realise it and now you can't have me. that's who i wish i was right now)

untitled is still a title

abandonment
violence
letting go
stepping back so i don't have to be pushed.
these are things i have to look into. i want to turn my brain off. i need something mindless and all consuming. i wish i could meditate, but i can't stop my mind. i need to play a sport. as an outlet. i have karate. maybe i'll go home and do a class on my own. that would probably be a good thing right now. something to concentrate on other than the issues above.

that is all

what i see

decided to change this post. put it elsewhere, currently unfindable, might link it one day. And i have intelligence that suggests i may have been wrong. i really hope i am.

my family think i'm losing my mind

but maybe i keep it where they can't find it.

i carry it with me.
and i keep it on paper
everytime it gets too full
i empty it out
one
word
at
a
time
one thought to completion,
never fully completed
jumping
from one wave
to the next
without the slightest link
or at least no link
that you can see
or follow
stream of consciousness
like water flowing through rocks
each one changing the flow
disturbing the surface
leaves float by
get tossed and sunk
surface again when the water is smooth
or smoother.
who ever really has complete calm,
complete release from trials and errors
in my head
there is always some turmoil
some little piece of gravel
being turned over and over
i don't think my brain
could make a pearl
worrying that grain of sand
to a high shine
a beautiful gem
precious stone
worth something to others
but just a grain of sand to me.
by writing things down
i can't forget them
but i don't have to remember them
they are always there
always going to remind me
of what i have
and who i am
and where i've been
whilst sitting in my cahir
moving only enough muscles to write
and no more
complete concentraion
to the exclusion of everything else
but my mind
lost to you
but found to me
on paper
forever.

days like rollercoasters

the weekend was awesome, yesterday was a monday, but good for that. till quite late, then it all fell flat and now it's just ok again now it's tuesday. and i'm going to keep waiting. it's not going to be me today.

cryptic, but i don't feel like giving anymore away.

that is all

you are alive

"if you are reading this, congrtulations, you are alive. if that's not something to smile about then i don't know what is"

I said this to a friend this morning, in the context of it being a quote that really helped me get through my week. admittedly, it's been a hard week. her response was that it is a really depressing quote, she wants to be more than just alive. it made me realise that my view and hers of "alive" differ quite extremely. the feeling she gets when one uses alive as a response to "how are you" (just for example) is that they are just barey coping, all they are feeling is heart beats and not much more. now higher functioning, no happiness, just barely hanging on to life. whereas, i really agree very strongly with the quote above. if being alive is not something to smile about then i really don't know what is. life is such a prescious gift. i mean wow, you wake up in the morning, you stretch and yawn and wish you could sleep another hour, and drag yourself off to the shower and the coffee, and you are ALIVE! another day, a new experience. alive may seem like such a small thing at times, but without it you have nothing else. NOTHING ELSE. you feel pain, you have bad days, you have great days, you have friends and enemies, and people in ur life who make no impact, and people who have been in ur life for 7 weeks and have changed it forever. this is Alive, this is life. there is nothing more amazing or more wonderful, even in it's shittiest moments, the moments when you rail against fate, rail against ur own existense. because there are moments when you soar, when you are at the height of achievement, when you are surrounded by friends and laughter, and i wouldn't trade all that pain for death, for the decision to never feel that happiness again. i almost did once. i never will again.

that is all

whats wrong

with me.
this time makes three.
i like you, but not enough. oh wait, maybe i do. no hang on, i don't, sorry bout that. 3 women in my life have done this to me. the first time we followed that up with 2 more years, the second time i apparently became such a completely unacceptable social leper that there is barely a friendship, and now this time. i don't want to lose, but i don't know how to play it so i don't.do i hold back so she misses me and there fore wants to come back? but what if she decides she can do without me? do i give her the closeness i know she wants? that she practically asked for? but if i give her that why would sh edecide to come back? she can get nealry everything she wants from me without having to committ... i'm just confused and sad. i don't know how to play to win.

unfinished. maybe.

i don;t know, this might be finished, but it might not be. my poems seem to write them selves. and while this doesn't necessarily read like it's finished, there has been no more for a week.

my heart is beating.
beating me up,
beating me down.
the pain of it inside my ribs
i need it to beat
i can't be rid of it
but it's doing more
than keeping me alive.
it's making me live
through pain
with pain.
heartache has a whole new meaning
with you

why not

Why me
Why am I being ignored
Why am I crying
Why do I care
Why does it hurt so much
Why is something so many don’t care about so unacceptable to you
Why does it matter to me
Why are YOU so far away
Why do I still feel like the same insecure 15 yr old
When will I grow out of that
Why does it sting
Why do I want to hurt myself more when I am already hurting so much
Why am i hurting
How did you get close enough to affect me this way
Why can’t I just man up
Or suck it up princess.
why do i need a hug so badly
why do i want it from you most of all
Why
Why
WHY.

The questions never end

i like movies that make you think about stuff

you know, important stuff. like the end of the world, or whether being kissed is really a big deal.

i started writing this post earlier, but then my computer at it, so here i am starting again. as always i was more eloquent in my opeining the first time around, but here is what you get now.

last night i watched 500 Days of Summer. good movie, funny and thinkable. you know, when you come out with a pondering? towards the end of the movie there is a narrative aboutthe average day, you wake up, you go to work, you come home, nothing special happens and your life is not particularly changed. one exact line is "most days have no impact on the course of a life." I disagree, just a little. kinda. the thought that nothing changes day to day, but when you look back everything has changed. i think everyday does have an imact on your life, you just don't realise it. it's so small you don't see it. the world loses it's magic, and we fail to see these tiny little pieces of change. why does the world lose it's magic? i think knowledge blinds us. we see a plant flower, and instead of being amazed by the beauty and nature of it's existenxe, we remember what we learned in science class when we were 15. this is how the world loses it's magic. but regardless of what we "know" we should still be amazed. still look for the magic.

i sort of changed topics there, but it's my mind, and my blog, so get used to it. as i said to someone who made a comment recently that the angle sucked - suck it up, this is about me right now.

that is all

the end of the world

is not due for another three years... but looking outside today you think it was now. Sydney is trending on twitter, and dust storm photo's are all over flicker and face book. it's like the rangapocolypse out there.



when i woke up this morning at about 7am, the light coming in my window was very yellow. so rather than press snooze i woke up and got out my camera. i didn't take this photo, this is one from designdyke Dan Warby. it looked my car had a new paint job over night. the roads are covered in dust, the trees are brown, and it's horrible to breath, esp as my lungs are still not 100% with the tail end of bronchitis. i can't explain how it feels to be out walking in a world that is normally bright, with blue and green tones, to have the whole thing turned orangey yellow. if you were colour blind, you wouldn't notice it, it would just look like a really thick fog that makes you sneeze. it's a very fine dust.

this apocalyptic outside world is making me feel a little weird. hard to describe, maybe trance like. time is moving slowly, but i am working efficiently. sounds are removed, like there is a greater distance than usual between myself and my colleagues. and all because the world outside is dusty and apricot coloured.

that is all

today i will twitlonger

i was going to tweet all of this, but then decided i had more to say.

This morning i sang with a firend - it was fun and we are going to be awesome!. audition to do a song from Rent in our next choir concert. Doing Take me or Leave me - with a little bot of creative staging we are making it a proposal song, to go with the theme of the concert which is Gay marriage.

I washed the car today - actually i washed two cars today, mine and mum's. She drives a strange bargain - she wanted me to do stuff - you know, important stuff - and i wanted to wash my car. she said i could wash mine if i did hers too. OK. no probs. two cars washed. and i mean i actually got out the hose and the bucket and washed them myself, none of this have coffee while i pay someone else to do it... got a little sun enough to make the back of my neck just a little pink. matches my new purple hair... love the aussie sun - hot enough to burn you in the time it takes to wash two cars... this is why i don't go out in it too often... i don't tan, i burn then peel...

that is all.

oh what a weekend

not much to say. i had a great weekend. I went to the Blackheath Choral Festival. one of my singing groups - Door In The Wall (go youtube us!) managed to be the poster children for the weekend, we were on the front page of the local news paper, and in the SMH Spectrum (that's our state wide weekend paper for those who are not local). We have had some good rehearsals over the past few weeks, but things were pretty much hit and miss. we got out on stage and we were amazing. it felt sooooo good, and apparently sounded fantastic. i'm so proud of us, and of being part of DITW. we rocked the festival. honestly, and not big headedly, there were probably only about 3 or 4 other choirs out of 20-odd that were of the same standard.
so apart from the singing... on friday we drove up the mountains, with good conversation and beer (i was not driving) and then we had dinner and drinks and lots of laughs till about midnight. there was a rumour that i was going to be in a relationship with Candy (not present over the weekend) and Sally was playing with my hair (it's like stroking a puppy, some people just can't help themselves) and gareth told sally to be careful coz i was gonna break her heart coz i was after candy - HAHAHA seriously. Sally and i may have been mildly flirting, but that was it, we were just boosting each others ego's, and doing it knowingly. overall it was just an awesome weekend spent with friends, with lots of good food, good laughs and LOTS of good wine!

milo cupcakes FTMFW

FTMFW is one of my new catch phrases. it stands for "for the MF win" i'm sure you can work out the rest.

anyhoo, more cupcakes. these are a re-attempt, the last ones i wasn't measuring so thye ended up just wrong. this time i only have small patty cases, so they will be just not quite the right shape, a little flat.. coz i only have big pans. the two don't make for pretty shaped things...

if you don't know what milo is, then there is nothing i can do to help you. it's a (maybe) chocolate malt drink making powder that you mix with milk. it's part of every australians childhood, and adulthood too. hot in winter, cold in summer, it's great.

Milo Cupcakes
250g butter
1.5 cup sugar
3 eggs
2.5 cups SR flour
1 cup milo.
2 cups milk.

beat the butter, add the sugar and beat. add eggs 1 by 1 and beat. add flour, milo, milk, flour, milk, flour, beating the whole time. put in patty cases, not much more than half full. cook for 15, rotate every which way. cook for another 15, test. bob's your uncle.

now this is a thick mix. and my batch are still in the oven and i have people coming about now. like right now

that is all..

horny bird cupcakes.

the horny bird also known as red bull and grey goose.

i made cupcakes today. i think to make a really good cupcake you have to have the esence of something. as you can't get esence of red bull these are just good cupcakes of no specific distinguishable flavour. i'm sad about that coz i wanted to make really good cupcakes..

250g butter
1 cup suger
3 eggs
1t vanilla essence
2 cups of flat RB
3 cups SR flour.

whip the butter, add the sugar. beat. add eggs and vanilla. beat. flour, beat, red bul, beat, flour, beat, red bull, beat, flour. 1/2 fill patty cases, cook for 15 mins, then rotate and cook for another 18, all at 180C.

1 cup icing sugar
30-40 mls grey goose (about 2T)

mix, and put on top.

they are a great cake, gorgeous texture etc, but not really strong on the red bull flavour, and the sugar of the icing overtakes the vodka flavour.

Sorry Crystal, i tried...

i like my mums house

but sometimes i forget. i like the ladder that goes into the workroom in the roof. i like coming down into the cool house after being in the work room. i like the sun room in winter, and the brick lounge room in summer. i like the fact that mum loves her creature comforts so the heat is always on when it's even the slightest bit cold. i love that the cheap vodka lives in the laundry - it really is good for cleaning, and when you run out of the good vodka you just go downstairs and grab the cheap stuff. i love that there is always food, and when i decided on friday that i wanted to cook pilaf the ingredients all just existed in the cupboard and fridge. i love the little art deco hall tables, and i love the dog who sleeps only in doorways so you have to step over her. i love the cat with a tag on her collar that says obstreperous - stroppy. it suits her well. i love that both computers are always on, so you can just sit and play a bit, then up and go again, not go through the whole boot and shutdown process. i love the pool, though i rarely swim in it and i love the deck for eating lunch at any time of year. mum drives me nuts sometimes but i love her too. i couldn't live here, last time i tried it lasted 3 months then i moved in to a converted garage as an improvement...

that is all

uh-mericans

i work on a uni campus. a uni with lots of internationals. you know the ones that you can pick from across the courtyard? americans. i have been trying to work out why it is easy to tell amongst a group of 100 people which ones the maericans are. is it the fact that they wear track pants where most other's wear jeans? or the fact that they wear shorts and sweater - it's winter people put some long pants on - or is it the hair? i mean, we all have hair, we all use the same brands of shampoo and the same water, go to the same hairdressers, shop in the same places... is it the sweaters that say UCLA? no - those are fashion items available anywhere or for any tourist.
i really can't quite put my finger on it, but i can tell when there are americans in a group, long b4 i hear hem speak. hearing the talk is just confirmation...
do you have a theory?

that is all.

curses...

i struggle with links, but click above to go to a really short, cute, you tube.

i am about to nerd myself in a big way. in fact it's worse than nerd it's sad pathetic, i feel so ashamed coz i used to (still do?) look down on this kind of behaviour.

i am a fan of Crystal Chappell (said like chappelle corby). she is an american daytime tv actress. she's good looking, and funny, and generous to her fans. there are photo's all over the interwebz taken by fans when she has been on a break from filming in peapack NJ, she has done hour long podcast interviews. she spent two and a half hours in a live chat with hundreds of rabid fans. she answers questions. she interacts with us on twitter. now i'm gonna go further with this. i might almost go as far as to say i am obsessed. i like to watch a little bit of CC every day, or listen to a podcast or interview. i was off sick on friday and slept till 11. i slept till 11 on saturday. on sunday i woke @ 8am to go online for a live chat with CC!!! OMG, she spoke (kinda) to me. we all queued up to ask questions, i made it into the queue, and she answered my question!! i know that's not really speaking to me, but it was still exciting for me... - are you seeing the sad pathetic yet? i have had a twitter account for a while, now i actually use it coz CC twitters. getting a twitter from CC would make my day - it's called being chappelled, or Crystal-eyezed. i wanna be crystal-eyezed!
now the show she is on is Guiding Light (GL), which is the worlds longest running soap opera, going from radio to tv to make a total of 72 years. this september the last ever episode will be aired as CBS (#FUCBS) have cancelled it. The character she plays, and has done for 10 years is Olivia, the town vixen, having slept with most of the men and their fathers/sons. Olivia has had a heart transplant within the last year, and found herself being annoyed by the widow of the owner of the heart. these two have become partners in every sense, except for the fact that they have never kissed. well kinda never - you'd have to watch, or really want me to tell you, to understand. But they have declared their love, been affectionate towards one another and have told others they are together, so it's not like a xena thing where it's just subtext and no-one will ever know what the writers were intending. This is a real honest to god lesbian relationship on tv that has been and is being handled with the utmost respect and care by all involved, it would just be GOD DAMN ABOUT TIME AND FREAKIN' AWESOME if they would kiss, properly.
i am so insane currently about this story line, and Crystal that i am part of 3 facebook groups about it.

so that is how i am spending nearly every minute i have spare at the moment. if i'm not at work, or at one of three choirs, or helping my mother finish her TAFE major work, then i am in front of a computer screen, watching you tube, or at BPD (big purple dreams) or on twitter. it is taking over my life, and it's a little bit nuttz, but i am loving having something so honest and realistic to obsess over.

Thank you CC for your continuous generosity, and i know you know how it ends, but i hope it leaves the rest of us smiling.

that is all

sumac causes blindness

according to Xena - who, of course, is the great untold influence in all ancient history, oil that's got sumac in it will make you blind if you get it in ur eyes...

so i made cupcakes with it instead. they are good cupcakes, but could have taken almost double the amount of sumac. it's just a hint at the back if you know what you are tasting. a kind of lemony peppery taste. works really well in a cupcake. i'm going to make icing that is just a little lemony and sprinkle the smallest touch of ground sumac on top. mmm. i'll make them again, and add more.

Sumac cupcakes.

225g butter
2 cups sugar
3 eggs
3 cups SR flour
2 cups milk
vanilla essence
1 T ground sumac (at a minimum - i will ad at least 1.5 next time)

mix it all in a true cupcake fashion, put it in the oven for 15 mins, rotate every which way and then cook for about 15-20 mins more.

enjoy!

that is all