Found this great new weekly meme...if you want to have a go register by clicking the logo at left:
I saw and you think....?
There's a serendipity to the blogosphere that I'm starting to appreciate. Reading a favourite blog, someone will post something, and it'll get me thinking, and then I'll read someone else's and they've posed a similar theme, and it'll get me thinking again.
Even more serendipitous is when I've been having conversations in RL and then suddenly there will be a group of people having conversations on a similar topic in the blogosphere... sometimes the universe tries various ways to make itself heard...
And I love my site meter... it's cool.. I can not only see how many people are reading, but where in the world they are, how long they stay, how many pages they read, and how they've found me. #
Best of all, I can see where people have found me via a search engine like google - for instance, this search "go braless" "first time" on blog search found this link.
Hit number 20... must have been keen to keep going... it's my understanding that people usually stop looking after the first page... I bet he was disappointed. I know, I'm making assumptions but just feels like maybe Singapore, 4.32am, who stayed for less than a second, was a he...
And there's that serendipity again... have read a couple of blog posts about breasticles and bras recently, and Eileen in a post over the weekend listed the things she'd never do, including sending pictures of her boobage to blogging friends. I agreed with her and told her mostly cause my boobage is slowly becoming my waistage!
So it's seems that boobage is a bit of an underlying theme at present, so Frou Frou's random thoughts on boobage (sorry, I love that word... boobage, boobage, boobage).
In Succulent Wild Women, SARK talks about the size of a woman's boobage - you know when you have an overabundance of boobage when you can hold a pencil under there...
She also suggests that cleavage is the best place to warm the butter in a restaurant, which always makes me laugh when I'm sitting there looking at curls of frozen butter... I think she meant the foil wrapped packets.
It's not just straight men who have a fascination with breasticles, a completely out there gay colleague used to regularly reach out and play... either undoing buttons so he could look down my shirt, or actually coping a feel...and couldn't understand why I wasn't comfortable with his behaviour...
In discussions with girlfriends, most of us are never really happy with our lot... if we're small, we'd like 'em bigger, and if we're bigger, we wish they were smaller.
Most guys will do the visual inspection, just that the majority of them will look quickly and then look elsewhere. Making a big deal of it, usually has a negative effect... and honestly, I think most of the time, they don't even know they're doing it...
The bra, is often one of the first items of clothing removed when we come home at night, or the item of clothing least likely to be put on if we know no-one is going to see us. Guys, imagine wearing a jock strap/ or cup all day, and you might get a bit of an inkling of what a full underwire bra can sometimes feel like... and most of us will need to wear one out in public every day from the age of about 13-16 ... unless we want to be able to tuck our boobage into our underpants by age 40!
There is nothing quite as embarrassing as looking down and seeing that the underwire in your bra has broken through the fabric and you've got this pointy bump in your boobage. Well, there is something more embarrassing, go back and read the link that started this post in the first place if you don't believe me...
Tattoos on breasticles can look wonderful, but gravity and saggage can make that lovely design look slightly strange... a friend had to get new ink on her starfish tattoo as 10 years down the track someone wanted to know why she had a snail on her boobie...
And sometimes we are just cold!
# I have aubirdwoman and rhian/crowwoman to thank for most of my traffic, which is lovely, an old friend from RL and a new friend from the blogosphere. I met aubirdwoman about 6 years ago when she came along to a axe murderers quilters get together I organised on an online quilt group we both belonged to. I love my Mum, but if I was going to pick another one, Sheila would be a good choice.
And Rhian feels so much like a friend already, and we're going to dance together when the end is nigh... and help it along a little, we'll probably dance right off the end of the world, or I'll trip and take her over the side with me...
A rat run is a colloquial term for a short cut that traffic takes, usually on residential side streets in a urban area. ..The associations with "beating the crowd", the rush hour, rat race likely gave rise to the term. However, it literally derives from the habit of rats in finding and maintaining foraging routes that are covert... Wikipedia
I will confess, that I had never heard of the term 'rat run' until yesterday... in a surreal conversation with a couple of the guys from work...These 3 guys, are part of a small group that have formed a bit of a clique within our much larger organisation. I don't know any of them very well, but what interaction I have with them, either singularly or as a group, always makes me smile if not laugh out loud, even though they can be a little intimidating en masse...so tight with one another, that sometimes it seems they are deliberately excluding others.
So my slightly left of centre mind... ok, ok, very left of centre mind, in hearing the term being bandied about yesterday, made mental connections of rats and a group of cool dudes and came up not with images of this:
But images of this! Those too cool for school guys, The Rat Pack.
Considering the conversation that took place, and my flights of fancy today, I'm even now more convinced that my very left of centre mind is on to something (the conversation below is not verbatim, can't remember all of it, as it was a jumble of interjection and overtalking, but I think you'll get the gist).
MFF to Dino: Do you still go that round the back way you told me about?
Frankie: DINO! Did you tell her about the rat-run?
MFF (confused): The what? Oh, Dino told me months ago about going a different way to work
Dino: No - you're mistaken. I've never told you that (giving me evil eye squints and jerking his head strangely) you're mistaking me with Sammy
Frankie: Dino, you know the rules about disclosing the rat-run... I'm going to have to report you to the committee... 1st rule... tell no one!
MFF: (even more confused): Are we talking about the same thing? The route that takes you over that funky bridge. The one I told you I drove over once, but never will again...(shudders) Sammy told me about a different way too...
Dino: See Frankie, told you... it was Sammy... not me (still grimacing at me wildly, but starting to laugh)
Frankie (stiff with mock indignation): Well, I don't know about this... Frou you're not supposed to know about the rat-run...only the Committee know about the rat-run... can't have every rat-run imposter knowing
MFF: Seriously, WHAT are you talking about? If it's the route I think Dino was telling me about:
Dino (loudly): It wasn't me I tell you, it was Sammy... I didn't tell you anything...
MFF (ignoring him): .... I ain't going to go that way anyway, as it's semi-rural, I'm an inner city chick, all those windy roads, no street lights, no traffic lights, gives me the heebees...
Frankie: Well, I suppose it's ok if you know, but you're not allowed to tell anyone... go photocopy the map and I'll mark it out for you
Joey: Heah, Frou
Frankie: I checked with Joey, he says it's ok... we can tell you 'bout the rat-run, but you can't tell anyone (marks route on map) you need to memorise this as this map will self-destruct in 30 seconds (male laughter)
MFF: Guys, I've already told you, I'm not driving that way, that bridge gives me the willies
Joey in an aside to Dino: What's she talking about, there's nothing wrong with the bridge?
Dino to Joey: She can't help it, she's not very logical
3 male voices in unison: Nah, Frou, it's fine... one side has to give way to the other, and when in doubt you just floor it... manly chests puffed out, smirking at each other
Dino (dreamily): it's a pretty drive, sometimes you get to see moo moo's. (2 sets of male eyes look at him like he's just grown a second head)
MFF: When you're talking about moo moo's I'm assuming you're making reference to the bovine variety, as opposed to a collection of fat women in colourful tentlike outfits standing by the side of road...
Laughter...
Mez, in her blog on Big Brother confirming her suspicions about human behaviour said:
1) Men in groups bigger than 2 sometimes act as bullies because they egg each other on
2) Not all men get involved in the bullies thing - but the ones that do would probably be best described as "blokey" men (at their most innocent)
And I agreed with her, have certainly seen my fair share of male group behaviour that is less than admirable, though thankfully, rarely directed at me. Though once overheard a group of guys we'd met at a pub debating which one of us girls they'd do... and had to listen to them discuss the various pro's and con's of my friends and I, including the prince charming whinging about why he always ended up with the fat one (that would be me, by the way!). He got his 'justs' when I deliberately inadvertently ground my knee into his manticles soft, squishy bits when he tried to pull me on to his lap.
But, in my experience, when you get the chance to either observe or interact with a group of men, it can be a weird and wonderful (but often very, very silly) thing, and I'm fortunate that over the years, there have been groups of men that I've been allowed to hang with. #
| You Should Be a Film Writer |
 You don't just create compelling stories, you see them as clearly as a movie in your mind. You have a knack for details and dialogue. You can really make a character come to life. Chances are, you enjoy creating all types of stories. The joy is in the storytelling. And nothing would please you more than millions of people seeing your story on the big screen! |
Rhian had this on her site, a quiz associated with the Golden Compass, a movie due out later in the year.
So if you want to answer 5 short questions, we'll see how well I know myself, and whether Sirion, is the most appropriate Daemon for me...
If you do the quiz, my Daemon may change... depending on how well I answered, and how other people see me. There's a good little preview of the movie too, looks really good.
From reading the information, I think Daemon's are a bit like animal totems... interesting that I got a crow initially... in my Queen of Swords meditation I was the Queen, and a crow came and plucked out my eyes, and in losing my sight, I was able to see more clearly...my usual animal totems are a stag and a hawk!
It's interesting - girls reactions to other girls. I wonder if young boys have such a relationship with males in the public eye. Apart from Daddy, do boys idolise other men while growing up? Do they want to grow up to look like another man, say Justin Timberlake or The Rock? As teenagers going through puberty do they aspire to be them in the same way that girls aspire to be other women? We look at other women and we want to be them...I put on my cloudiest suit [Miscellany]The paragraph above is part of Mez's ode to Kate Bush who she idealised as a teenager. And then in my post of Monday Rhi talked about Morticia Addams and I said I preferred Lily Munster, and it's got me thinking...
Lily Munster, as played by Yvonne DeCarlo. I loved Lily... she had style... but she loved her man, even if he was a doofus.. and her family. I thought she was pretty, she was curvy, not a stick figure, which was important to a girl who started developing lumps and bumps at a young age. I'd love to do the dramatic white streak through my hair...mmm
Jo March, Little Women - I'm going to write in more detail about Little Women at some time, but needless to say, I was given a Junior edition of the story when I was six, have my Mum's copy of Good Wives, which she was given as a teenager, and bought myself the whole Louisa May Alcott collection as an adult. I wanted to be Jo - creative, writing in her garret. I wanted to be brave enough to cut my hair, and already knew I was clumsy enough to singe my gown on the fire. Still want someone like Professor Bhaer, an intelligent and kind man, who will recognise my talent and loveliness...
Colleen Dewhurst, Actress...if I grew up to be Colleen Dewhurst or some of the characters she played, I'd be happy. I think she was strikingly beautiful, both as a younger woman and as she got older, with a deep throaty voice, and a booming sexy laugh. The first time I saw her was in The Women's Room, and then in And Baby Makes Six, as a middle-aged mother of 4, who discovers that she is pregnant. She was Marilla in Anne of Green Gables, and Murphy's mother, in Murphy Brown. She won 4 Emmy awards, and two Toni Awards, and was president of Actors Equity in the years prior to her death in 1991 from cervical cancer.
Anne of Green Gables, Lucy Maud Montgomery... speaking of Anne... I loved her too... came to these stories late, after the production of Anne of Green Gables for TV that starred Megan Follows... but ended up buying the books for myself, and read the first one on an overnight train trip to Sydney to see Noiseworks film a concert for MTV, talk about a contradiction in terms... I was about 26 at the time.
Catwoman (particularly as played by Julie Newmar) - can remember playing Batman and Robin, with me as Catwoman, with Peter, who lived in our street... I had a crush on him. He got really upset, cause I tried to kiss him... Catwoman was bad, evil and Batman shouldn't kiss her... was I the only 6 year old to understand the URST (unresolved sexual tension) between those two?
Willow, Buffy the Vampire Slayer ... she was a nerdy, bluestocking girl, who discovered her own power... and she got to make out with Seth Green... but I love her character for saying things like this ... When I'm with a boy I like I can't say anything cool, or witty - or at all. I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away... and this... We can come by between classes. Usually I use that time to copy my class notes with a system of different colored pens. But it's been pointed out to me that that's, you know, insane... and this... Okay, the Angel thing went badly, I'm on board with that, but that's not your fault. And anyways, love isn't always like that. Love can be... nice. 
Lili Taylor, Actress... she's one of my favourites, I've loved her since Say Anything, particularly in Dogfight with River Phoenix, and Household Saints with Vincent D'Onofrio. Was thrilled when she joined Six Feet Under, my favourite actress in my favourite TV show. She's mesmerising.
Claudia Jean (CJ) Cregg, The West Wing... one of the best female characters created for television... having just watched the final episodes of The West Wing, I'm struck that regardless of the overabundance of mucho macho men, both actors and characters... it is CJ that is the most memorable... in some ways, particularly in the later seasons, she became the heart of the show. Alison Janney is a goddess...
Katherine Hepburn... ah, Kate. Fiercely intelligent, independent, unique, a man's woman, but loved by women as well... who wouldn't want to be her? She was a Jo March too... as well as Susan Vance in Bringing Up Baby, Tracy Lord in The Philadelphia Story, Rose Sayer in The African Queen and who can ever forget her with Spencer Tracy in Adam's Rib, Pat and Mike, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner and my personal favourite, Desk Set, where she plays Bunny, the head of a research department, to Tracy's Richard, who has been brought in to introduce Memorac, a computer to assist them.
Those thoughts have included but are not restricted to:
Why have I always liked even numbers rather than odd?
And why have the 2 homes I've lived in in the last 5 years been made up of odd numbers - 5/77-79 and 3/31-33?
Why is the deepest, most satisfying sleep always the hour before the alarm goes off?
Maybe I'm a cat... I want to sleep all day and party all night... maybe I'm actually a vampire?
If I was a vampire, I'd be immortal ... I wonder if I'd have a successful relationship if I lived for centuries?
Why does Sunday time always go much faster than Monday time?
Is it a message from the universe when you win only one movie ticket that you should get used to seeing movies on your own?
Why do people playing trivial pursuit take it all so damn seriously?
Truly, has anyone ever really fallen asleep in the bath and drowned?
Why is it that I never feel hungry? Maybe I AM a vampire! Or I've been reading too much Vampire P0rn Sherilyn Kenyon/Tanya Huff/ Lauren K. Hamilton?
If you want to generate your own Catalogue Card - it's here.
It was winter time, I can remember. Late on a Saturday afternoon, sometime in 1980/81 as we travelled by taxi as the light faded.
I can remember the closer we got, the tighter and more anxious I got, and the more relaxed Dad became. After days of black moods and tears and heated discussions the decision had been made... he wanted to check in to the hospital, was spiraling out of control and needed to admit himself and be voluntarily committed.
This wasn't the first time this had happened, though it was one of the first times I accompanied my parents on this trip. They had tried to shield us from a lot of Dad's mental illness. It was never a secret, how could it possibly be, when he had regularly required hospital admittance for over 20 years... either because of one of several suicide attempts (at least 6 that we know of) or like now, because either he or my mother could no longer cope without some drastic intervention. But until more recently, Mum had made this trip with Dad on her own, or he had gone by ambulance.
But I was older this time, around 20, and at that stage, the only child living at home, having returned home the year before after 15 months living in a share house. And so I had offered to go with them, mainly so that Mum wouldn't have to deal with what must have been an awful trip home alone afterwards.
Dad was finally smiling... he liked the hospital. Looking back now I realise my father was at his happiest when he was institutionalised. He loved the time he was sent to a boys home in his misspent youth as a punishment, and cried when his father came to take him home. Talked fondly of the 12 months spent in a sanatorium as an 18 year old, while recovering from tuberculosis. Enjoyed the Supported Residential Service he lived in for nearly a decade later in life and the Nursing Home he lived in before he died. I think he liked the routines, the orderliness. Someone told you when to get up, when to go to bed, when to eat and what to do.
So we left him there, Mum and I... on a cold Saturday afternoon, and we walked through the gardens of the hospital up to the bus stop to go home. While we waited, we talked, and Mum said, "I don't want to go home yet, let's go to the movies". "What will we see?" says I. "I don't know, let's decide when we get there" says she.
It was full dark by the time we got into the city, and raining heavily. We had no choice but to submerge ourselves in water pouring along the gutters of Russell Street, as the drains overflowed with the force of the rainfall. So we were both wet from the knees down as we laughed and raced for cover. My new indian cotton jacket started to disintegrate (literally falling to pieces) as the rain touched it... in the end I left it, a sodden mess wedged under the seat.
We stood at the ticketbox, looking at the titles of films, and their starting times, trying to decide what to see. "That film's supposed to be good" says I. "What's it about?" says Mum. "I don't know, but Robert Redford directed it, and Donald Sutherland's in it" says I. "Ok, I like Donald Sutherland" says Mum. So we bought tickets...
The film was Ordinary People... ironic but fitting that we should chose a film that deals with families, grief, and the aftermath of attempted suicide. It had a profound effect on me then, and watching it again more recently, it still has the power to affect me, but in surprising ways, considering the subject matter.
Timothy Hutton, plays Conrad Jarrett, a young man only recently returned home from a long hospitalisation following a suicide attempt. He and his parents, Calvin (Donald Sutherland) and Beth (Mary Tyler Moore) live in an idyllic, affluent neighbourhood, but are struggling following the tragedy of the death of their oldest son, Buck, who drowns when the boat he and Conrad were sailing capsizes.
This is a quiet, understated, but devastating film, as you watch this family unravel before your eyes. You only see brief glimpses of the accident in flashback, late in the film, and even the fact that there is something wrong with this family, only becomes apparent slowly. One of those times where a film allows the audience to find out things as the story unfolds without ramming it down your throat.
At 20, my sympathies were primarily focused on Conrad, but even then, I realised that in a lot of ways, he was the strongest character of them all. His attempts to understand not only what happened to his brother, but also his role in the accident, his place within the family and in his relationships is heartbreaking, but at the same time life affirming. But even the first time, I felt for all of these characters and felt some affinity with them all, an affinity I felt even more in my most recent viewing.
The caring but ultimately powerless Calvin, who wants his remaining family to be happy and his attempts to navigate some form of understanding between his young son and wife. This was Donald Sutherland at his best, where just a look has the power to move you to tears.
Calvin: Don't admire people too much, they might disappoint you.And Beth, a woman who on the surface appears incredibly cold and unloving, but is both in deep denial and pain. There are scenes in this film when you just want to scream at her, for the way she ignores Conrad, but you come to understand that she can't allow herself to be close to him, to anyone. It's not that she doesn't love him, she just can't love him in the way that he so desperately needs, it's just not in her nature.
Conrad: You woulda visited Buck if he was in the hospital.For all of it's emotion, the film has some lovely moments. Judd Hirsch is brilliant as Dr. Berger, the therapist that Conrad starts to visit, under duress, and their scenes together are both painful and funny.
Beth : Buck would have never been in the hospital!
Dr. Berger: So what are you thinking now?Elizabeth McGovern is a delight as the fellow student with whom Conrad starts a tentative relationship.
Conrad: That I jack off a lot.
Dr. Berger: So what else is new? Does it help?
Conrad: For a minute.
Conrad: Anyway.I think this film deserved it's Oscar win, and the Best Director Oscar for Redford, and unfortunately I don't think Timothy Hutton has bettered this performance, he should have been nominated for Best Actor, as it is very much his film, not the Best Supporting Actor award that he won.
Jeannine: Hm, what?
Conrad: Oh just anyway. It's a conversation starter.
Jeannine: Hm, catchy.
Conrad: I knew you'd like it, I've been working on it all day.
Calvin (to Beth): We would have been all right if there hadn't been any mess. But you can't handle mess. You need everything neat and easy. I don't know. Maybe you can't love anybody. It was so much Buck. When Buck died, it was like you buried all your love with him, and I don't understand that, I just don't know, I don't... maybe it wasn't even Buck; maybe it was just you. Maybe, finally, it was the best of you that you buried. But whatever it was... I don't know who you are. I don't know what we've been playing at. So I was crying. Because I don't know if I love you any more. And I don't know what I'm going to do without that.I've watched this film several times over the years, it was one of the first video's we borrowed when we bought our first VCR, and I now own my own DVD. Every time I watch it, I flashback to that first viewing, sitting next to my Mum, with sopping wet feet, sharing a single tissue between us (we peeled the tissues ply apart). And it seems strange, that I still count this as one of my favourite films, you'd think I would avoid it.
This post is especially for Rhi, who wrote recently about her fall off stage while taking photographs and my alluding to my escapades on a cruise ship... and my utter klutziness!
Some back story about my nom de plume - in 1999, age 38 - I joined Miss Lou Lou's Tap Dancing Academy as an Absolute Beginner with a close friend. The last time I had had dance lessons was at the age of 6, learning ballet at a local ballet school for all of one term... but I enjoyed tap, particularly once I realised the more ridiculous our costumes and our song choices, the less likely people would actually pay attention to our less than fancy footwork.
At the time at work, one of the blokey blokes, started to refer to me as Miss Frou Frou, and I used it once or twice on an online group as I wrote about my faltering and hysterical and shortlived tapdancing career... and the term stuck! As did the reference to my friend as Miss La De Da!
And in 2003 I went away for a 10 day cruise to Noumea and Vanuatu with a group of 3 friends including Miss La De Da and Gigglegirl. The story below was written to that online group on my return...
The first night and day at sea was pretty rough, half the ship was suffering from sea sickness and yours truly ended up having a shot in the rear after waiting for 2 hours to see the ship's doctor and slept most of day one away.
First morning I slammed my thumb in the cabin door - but as that was also the period that I spent most of the time with my head in a paper bag I was too miserable to realise how much it hurt!
In the information we received from the cruise line before we left it said that they had two theme nights with passenger participation floorshows.
I said to Miss La De Da that maybe we should put our names down to do something. She was horrified and I said, why - it's not like we'll ever see these 1500 passengers again!
On the first night they asked for people to register interest in the two shows, one a Country and Western theme, the other Fright Night. I looked at MLDD and she said, no way, so I resigned myself to not participating.
When we got the daily news on that first night it said they were having linedancing classes the following morning. The 4 of us decided that would be fun to do. Well of course the following morning I was sick, so missed the line dancing class, and most of the first day.
So at dinner time when the girls woke me I was a bit disappointed to hear that MLDD and one of the others had signed up to do a linedancing routine in the Country and Western night, and despite the fact that MLDD thought she could teach me the dance, they hadn't put my name down.
Imagine my delight, when the next morning they had square dancing classes, and asked people to volunteer to do a different number in the show. Both MLDD and I had the class and put our names down.
What a hoot square dancing was. There were 4 groups of 8, with MLDD and I making up the 8 people directly at the front on stage right. The show room on the Pacific Sky is at the front of the boat, so it sometimes gets a bit rocky, so learning to do square dancing, and swinging and circling around was pretty tricky but we got the hang of it.
Now, of the two of us tap dancers, MLDD is by far the more accomplished. She has a great sense of style and dances well. I, on the other hand usually bumble along and generally look like an idiot. BUT, she has terrible trouble remembering a routine, while I, who has the memory of an elephant, pick routines up really quickly.
Square dancing was exactly the same. About a third of the way through the dance, after we'd do-si-do'd, we were supposed to do a heel, toe, heel, toe and gallop bit in the dance. MLDD routinely forgot what to do, so by the end of rehearsal as we do-si-do'd I'd quietly be saying, heel, toe, heel toe and gallop, we'd fumble a bit, giggle and pick it up.
The first of the two shows on performance night was the same. MLDD had a mental blank so right through the dance I kept having to either tell her what was next or point to where she needed to be. But we pulled it off and had a great time. Despite the fact that for some reason no-one ever assumes that just because you put your hand up to do something that you should have a body like Kylie - so the gingham shirt allocated to me - wouldn't do up it was so small - and the straw hat allocated was so big that I could hardly see!
So the 2nd show starts and we get organised to go on stage, still with me whispering to MLDD what comes first, and then next etc. It was a Beverley Hillbillies sketch, with the Pacific Sky entertainers dressed as various members of that family. During the dance they all weave in and out of the square dancers etc. Out we go, under the lights, a bit choppy weather, so we're all finding it a bit tricky staying upright - you just naturally all tilt in the direction that the ship is going.
Dancing away, giggling and being silly and then it happened. I'd said to MLDD through the do-si-do "heel, toe, heel, toe and gallop". She'd got a bit excited and was raring to go, and off she went, but unfortunately I wasn't quite ready, I'm heeling and toeing just as she started to gallop and disaster struck - I lost my footing and over I went.
Just as I did, the ship lurched, so not only did I have the pleasure of landing flat on my butt, but the momentum of the ship and MLDD's gallop had my legs going straight up in the air and I slid along the stage, almost taking out Grannie Clampett in the process, and causing some of the other people in our group of 8 to have to jump over me.
Talk about hysterical, the whole crowd including everyone on stage was laughing, as was I, except I couldn't get to my feet. I'm half lying on the stage floor, half bouncing up. Managed to get to my feet and jump straight back into the dancing, still with the sounds of everyone on stage laughing. MLDD was laughing so hard she wet her pants! And I wasn't that far behind her.
Once off stage one of the entertainers came over to check if I was ok. I wasn't, I'd actually landed pretty hard, and having to climb the stairs up to the dressing room was one of the hardest things I've ever done. But the show must go on, and when we all came out on stage at the end got a special clap from the audience.
The next two days saw me moaning and groaning every time I walked. Giant bruise on my right butt cheek, as well as across the top of my thighs. But dancing on the deck with most of the ship for 2 hours on Island night ironed out the kinks and I was ok.
Having survived the forgetting the steps on stage at the National Theatre 3 years earlier and making up a wildly interpretive dance that closely resembled a whirling dervish, all the time dressed as a gold tinselly sausage, I mean, showgirl, and now falling over on stage in front off close to 1000 people, I reckon I'm ready to take on anything. Jazz Ballet anyone?
I'm a compulsive hoarder of things...and a compulsive buyer and collector of things. I deny myself pretty much nothing, if it takes my fancy and I'm financial at the time and I'm a girl of eclectic interests and tastes so there are lots of things that I collect, buy and hoard but the thing that is getting completely out of control is my craft collection...sigh...
I am addicted to fabric... and the joy of cutting up bits and putting them back together and have pretty much concentrated all my crafty output in the last 8 years on patchwork and quilting. Except in the year that I was working and studying I didn't have a lot of time for preparation of quilty things so rediscovered my love of knitting and cross-stitch...
I am also a compulsive starter of projects, and have so many things on the go at any one time that it's scary. And then there's the collection of things I've purchased, that are not yet started, cross stitch kits, knitting wool, and bundles of fabrics earmarked for a particular project.
My Mum says it's good that I've collected so much stuff, cause if I ever have reduced circumstances I can happily play away for the rest of my natural life and probably several dozen descendants lives can too! Someone will make a killing on ebay after I'm gone!
Even I know that my accumulated stuff is getting a bit ridiculous, so decided to sort through things methodically to work out just what I have and what's required to finish it. A bit inspired by other people making this the year of the UFO (unfinished object) and Sheila listing her Creative Hopefuls - things she'd like to get finished, and then listing the finished items for the year, so I've started an Excel spreadsheet, which I will update as I work my way through all the items I've got buried away in boxes and baskets...
In the interim, I'm going to post photo's of my current WIPs (Works in Progress) - can't just be working on one, need to alternate between a couple of different things!
CROSS STITCH
The Patchwork Hermit - this pattern was in a magazine 2 years ago and I happened to mention to Mum that I liked it. She went and bought the Aida cloth and all the different coloured threads for me and gave it to me for Christmas 2005... and being me... I started it that afternoon... It's meant to be a Santa, but I'm going to omit the sack of toys he's carrying, as it reminds me a bit of The Hermit in the Tarot, and that means I can display him year round... when he's finished...
HANDPIECING
Bushfire Quilt Blocks - A friend and I at work are coordinating the making of two quilts for local CFA Brigades as part of Jasmine's Bushfire Quilt Drive. A bunch of about a dozen newbie quilters at work that we have taught the basics of handpiecing. In between making up little block kits I've been piecing some of the blocks.
APPLIQUE
Butterfly Baskets - I'm crazy about 1930's reproduction fabrics, and have amassed a huge collection of them. I already have one quilt made (by Mum as my Christmas present 2005) in these fabrics that hangs across the bottom of my bed, and these Butterfly Baskets will finally be a bed size quilt. I've prepared about 90 blocks so far, using a different 30's reproduction fabric each time, and have buttonhole appliqued about half of them. Have run out of background fabric, but may have to make extras (still have lots of fabrics that I haven't used yet) as I want this quilt to completely cover my very high antique cast iron bed. The alternative might be to just thinly sash them with a 30s fabric or a solid colour and add a wider outer border, but I'll decide that when I'm done. This is good pick up and put down project stuff... alternating between these and some piecework.
QUILTING
This is Mum's very first quilt - the sampler she and I did in our first class together at Patchwork Addiction. I, of course, haven't even finished my blocks... sigh... I like handquilting, though I don't profess to be an expert, though I've started to quilt this, just either in the ditch or a 1/4 of an inch out. This is middle of winter work... as the quilt is very warm and heavy... should plan a Sunday to just sit and do some of this work sitting in the family room which faces north and gets lovely light.
KNITTING
A scarf I started last year. I actually made another one using the same wool, but it was too wide, so gave it to my sister for her birthday, and bought more wool to have another go. Simple, brainless knitting....
I go back to work tomorrow.... sob, sob.... Part of me is glad to go back, I miss people, have some interesting things that are happening or I'm trying to make happen... but the problem with having a 10 day break is the more time I spend away from work the more realise I'd prefer not to work at all...
Did I do all the things I wanted to do during this break... nah! Though I've had a good time, enough social interaction and solitude to please my slightly schizophrenic personality.
My girls, Gertie and Gracie have loved having me home, especially Gertie, wherever I've been she's been for the last 10 days. Sitting watching TV, she's either on my lap, on the arm of the chair or on the footstool. In bed, she's beside me... we've napped together a few times. On the PC, she's usually sitting on the keyboard, or trying to climb on top of the monitor. Even having a bath, involves her curled up on the ledge over the bathtub, occasionally patting me on the head.
The last couple of days have been weird though... probably why it's not a bad thing that I'm going back to work, as I suspect this is what my life would be like if I didn't need to work... and it's not pretty..or particularly healthy...
Friday
Up reasonable early for me on holiday and pottered around for most of the day sorting through some crafty stuff (will blog about that separately as I'm making a list of all projects both unfinished and yet to start - yikes).
At the same time, as sorting through stuff, I made a pot of minestrone soup. There's a reason why I refer to myself as an undomesticated goddess... and that I don't cook very often... soup is terrible. Not inedible, but not great.... sigh... even Gertie, who loves all human food, wouldn't touch it...
Seemed to fritter away the day, just pottering and a bath and reading both books and blogs, and watching some TV... am slowly watching 'Tripping Over' that Mum taped for me last year.
Lost in Translation on TV Friday night - so watched that... not as good with commercials... note to self - buy DVD!
Bed before midnight, go to sleep almost instantly, and then:
3.00am... wide awake .... sigh...
3.30am give up and get up... back on pc's doing some work on my blog, just adding and reorganising things, while reading others... and checking out ebay...
6.00am... gee I'm tired... back to bed...
Saturday
1.30pm... woke up... for once the cats haven't done a not so happy dance over my head demanding food... both curled up asleep beside me.
2.00pm... I feel cottonwoolly and headachey and awful... it's overcast and I'm cold... so put the heater on briefly...make some breakfast and coffee (and panadol) and sit down and watch another episode of Tripping Over while doing some handpiecing of Bushfire Quilt blocks.
3.30pm Went to the loo and coped a look at myself in the mirror... my hair looks a bit like Cameron Diaz' in that scene from There's Something About Mary... so shower... bugger getting dressed, so clean pair of pj's.
4.00pm - Set myself up with some cross stitch... the Patchwork Santa/Hermit.
My vision has changed in the last 12 months, so I can't wear my glasses to do fine work like cross stitch, but need my glasses to watch TV... and usually end up with a cricked neck from the constant peering over the top of them to do handwork. So, no TV this time, sitting in absolute silence while I stitch only occasionally stopping to get a cuppa or cuddle Gertie.
6.00pm - watch the news, and feed animals. Not hungry yet, and can't decide what I want... another cuppa
6.30pm - TV off again, back to the cross stitch. Decide I might as well do my week's washing, mostly tracky's and pj's, while I'm working.
8.00pm - should eat I guess... decide to put frozen quiche in oven... heah... better than my first thought... a packet of potato chips... more stitching...
9.20pm - start to tape Rockwiz - love that show... get dinner and patchwork out again, and settle down to watch The West Wing. I've so enjoyed the double episodes on the ABC of the last season... only one more week to go and it's finished... wish they'd start all over again... note to self - buy DVD... more patchwork... 3rd block this time...
10.50pm - still patchworking.... and watching North and South... love that show too... I thought Colin Firth's Mr Darcy was dark and brooding, but Richard Armitage's Mr Thornton is better... oh la la... he's good... he declares his love for Margaret and she rejects him... stupid cow! Note to self - buy the DVD
Midnight - bed...reading for awhile... but nodded off with the book in my hand around 1.00am.. as you do...
Sunday
8.00am - awake... but still tired... up and feed girls and then back to bed...
11.00am - awake again... though could be tempted to stay here... have a scratchy throat... that would be great, back to work with a cold... should I stay in bed?...no... up...
Coffee, reading my book... fart arsing around....
1.30pm - breakfast... have bought bacon and eggs, but decided I'll have those for tea... so cereal... and watch taped Rockwiz from the night before. Josh Pyke and Neko Case guests. Saw Josh Pyke when he was touring with Tim Finn at the Forum. I like him - note to self - get CD!
Start to meaninglessly channel surf - The Horse Soldiers with John Wayne, or Beethoven or sport... sigh... waste an hour or more just channel flicking... and naval gazing...
3.30pm - internal debate... what to do? Do some ironing and get organised for work tomorrow? No - back to the Patchwork Hermit, but set egg timer for 1 hour, to make sure I do something else productive...
4.30pm - Something productive! Writing this blog and another entry with my current crafty projects... will post that later after taking some photo's.
5.30pm - need to do dishes, and tidy up at least a little, garbage etc. - if I go to work tomorrow with a messy house, I'm going to be cross.
Plans for tonight... Cooking a fry up dinner... eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast (cholesterol heaven!)
Then the ABC again, I think... Einstein Factor, News, Robin Hood (Richard Armitage again.. woo hoo) and The Abduction Club...
This kind of weekend, which I've largely enjoyed, despite the strange sleeping/habits is one of the reasons why I don't think I'll ever settle down with a bloke... can't imagine any guy being happy to have this sort of weekend... well, I guess someone who had his own hobby I guess... who would go off and do his own thing, while I did mine. Maybe I need to find a guy who'll happily stay during the week and then disappear of a weekend?
Today I realised that I hadn't done the Real Woman MEME that Sheila tagged me on. Will admit that I've struggled a bit with this one... what is a real woman... you're asking me? I think it's the word 'real' that I have a problem with, it's a judgement, I struggle a lot with words that can be seen as judgement ... like normal, ordinary... real!
Last night I went to see The Sound of Music Drag Show, as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. Talk about laugh until you almost pee... though I will never be able to watch The Sound of Music again without rethinking the Baroness and Maria's relationship!
In the car driving back to where we had all parked in nearby Richmond, we were singing various show tunes, as you do! And today have been thinking about songs from musicals that I feel some connection with, as a woman... so a tongue in cheek response to what is a real woman, as defined by Miss Frou Frou and the wonderful world of musical theatre...
Real Women look out for their friends…
We'll always be bosom buddies, Friends, sisters and pals;
If life should reject you, There's me to protect you.
If I say that your tongue is vicious, If I call you uncouth;
It's simply that who else but a bosom buddy, Will sit down and tell you the truth.
Tho' now and again I'm aware that my candid opinion may sting,
Tho' often my frank observation might scald;
I've been meanin' to tell you for years, you should keep your hair natural like mine,
If I kept my hair natural like yours, I'd be bald.
Each time that a critic has written, "Your voice is the voice of a frog!"
Straight to your side to defend you I rush;
You know that I'm there ev'ry time that the world makes and unkind remark,
When they say "Vera Charles is the world's greatest lush!"
I feel it's my duty to tell you it's time to adjust to your age; you try to be "Peg O' My Heart", when you're "Lady Macbeth."
Exactly how old are you, Vera? The truth! Well, how old do you think? I'd say somewhere in between forty and the death!
Bosom Buddies, Mame, Jerry Herman
Real Women make their own lives…
There's gotta be something better than this,
There's gotta be something better to do.
And when I find me something better to do,
I'm gonna get up, I'm gonna get out I'm gonna get up, get out and do it!
There's gotta be some respectable trade,
There's gotta be something easy to learn.
And if I find me something a halfwit can learn,
I'm gonna get up, I'm gonna get out, I'm gonna get up, get out and learn it!
There's gotta be some life cleaner than this,
There's gotta be some good reason to live.
And when I find me some kind of life I can live,
I'm gonna get up, I'm gonna get out, I'm gonna get up, get out and live it!
There’s Got to Be Something Better Than This, Sweet Charity, Coleman/ Fields
Real Women lead by example…
Careful the things you say, Children will listen.
Careful the things you do, Children will see.
And learn.
Children may not obey, But children will listen.
Children will look to you, For which way to turn,
To learn what to be.
Careful before you say, "Listen to me."
Children will listen.
Careful the wish you make, Wishes are children.
Careful the path they take, Wishes come true,
Not free.
Careful the spell you cast, Not just on children.
Sometimes the spell may last past what you can see
And turn against you...
Careful the tale you tell. That is the spell.
Children will listen...
Guide them but step away, Children will glisten.
Tamper with what is true and children will turn,
If just to be free.
Careful before you say, "Listen to me."
Children will listen...Children will listen!
Children will Listen, Into the Woods, Stephen Sondheim
Real Women are strong even on their own…
I gotta give my life some sparkle and fizz,
And think a thought that isn't wrapped up in his
The place that I consider paradise is,
Wherever he ain't! Wherever he ain't!
No more to wither when he's grouchy and gruff,
No more to listen to him bellow and bluff
Tomorrow morning I'll be strutting my stuff,
Wherever he ain't! Wherever he ain't!
It's time for little Nell to rebel, If he's in Heaven, I'll go to Hell!
I walked behind him like a meek little lamb,
and had my fill of his not giving a damn
I'll go to Sydney or Ceylon or Siam,
Wherever he ain't! Wherever he ain't!
Enough of being bullied and bossed, Ta-ta Auf Wiedersehn and get lost!
My little love nest was a terrible trap,
With me behaving like a simpering sap
And so I'm looking for a spot on the map,
If he's going south, I'm going north,
If he's going back, I'm going forth,
Wherever he ain't!
Wherever He Ain’t, Mack and Mabel, Jerry Herman
Real Women protect those they love…
Nothing's gonna harm you, Not while I'm around
Nothing's gonna harm you, No sir, not while I'm around
Demons are prowling everywhere nowadays
I'll send them howling, I don't care, I've got ways
No one's gonna hurt you, No one's gonna dare,
Others can desert you, Not to worry, whistle I'll be there
Demons'll charm you with a smile for awhile, but in time
Nothing can harm you, not while I'm around.
Being close and being clever, Ain't like being true,
I don't need to, I would never, Hide a thing from you
Like some
Not While I’m Around, Sweeney Todd, Stephen Sondheim
Real Women know what they are capable of…
Anything you can do, I can do better
I can do anything, Better than you.
No, you can't. Yes, I can.
No, you can't. Yes, I can.
No, you can't. Yes, I can, Yes, I can!
Anything you can wear I can wear better.
In what you wear I'd look better than you.
In my coat? In your vest!
In my shoes? In your hat!
No, you can't! Yes, I can Yes, I CAN!
I can jump a hurdle. I can wear a girdle.
I can knit a sweater. I can fill it better!
I can do most anything!
Can you bake a pie? No. Neither can I.
Anything you can do, Annie Get Your Gun, Irving Berlin
And finally, Real Women keep people guessing (this should be my theme song)…
When I'm with her, I'm confused
Out of focus, And bemused
And I never know exactly where I am
Unpredictable as weather,
She's as flighty as a feather
She's a darling, She's a demon
She's a lamb
She'd out pester any pest
Drive a hornet from its nest
She can throw a twirling dervish out of whirl
She is gentle, She is wild
She's a riddle, She's a child
She's a headache, She's an angel
She's a girl!!
Maria, The Sound of Music, Rodgers and Hammerstein
This is going to be a bit of a ramble, as I've had conversations IRL and been following some thread conversations in blogland that have me asking lots of questions, about myself, where I'm at, where I'm going and whether I'm going to get there.... So bear with me ok? Knowing what you want and being prepared to say it... We talked about this at lunch on Saturday, as FBG, wise woman that she is, keeps telling me I'm the keeper of the switch, I get to turn it on and off. But as we discussed at lunch, it's hard to keep the switch on if there isn't someone to flash it at... and it's very easy and often much simpler to just turn it off. We all agreed that there have been times, in some cases years, were we shut down the whole idea of any form of relationship, and consequently, you become invisible. At those times, my flashing light says don't even think about it... # not strange in a woo woo way, just strange, as in a stranger. He waited till he got to know me to tell me I was strange, in a woo woo way... actually that's what he likes most about me...
Boy Talk???
I have a friend, Peter Rabbit. We sort of dated(see next question) briefly, before becoming really good friends, who go out a lot to movies, or singles things, and talk to or email each other regularly. I would include him on my list of really close friends.
Over the 3 plus years we've known each other he's told me a lot about his friends and I’ve told him a lot about mine and told my friends about him. In fact, he’s met a lot of my friends, to the point that some friends say “if you want to invite the Rabbit Man along, he’s more than welcome”.
So it came as a surprise to me earlier in the year when he told me, apart from the guy who knew that he had a date with this strange girl# way back when, he's never mentioned me to any of his mates.
And when I expressed this surprise and wondered why, he said it had nothing at all to do with not wanting to discuss me, just that generally he and his mates don’t talk about women… well not specific ones anyway. They might lament how hard it is to find and keep a girl etc., but they don’t as a rule talk about the women in their lives specifically, and even less so now, as he is the only single guy left of his small group.
This isn't the only time I've had conversations with guys, who have expressed similar opinions. Actually once had a guy tell me, that the more a guy talks about you to others, the less serious he is....???? What do others think?
What is a Date?
A friend told me about a conversation with a guy who asked her out a couple of times for dinner and/or movies and his announcing that they were not dating, as he defined a date as someone he intended to have sex with, and he only had sex within a relationship and as he had decided he wanted to forgo relationships for the moment, that meant their semi-regular outings were not dates!
He then went on to ask her did she think they were dating, to which she replied, what difference does it make, as you've already decided that we aren't?
If I used the definition as used by this guy, I almost never date! Or as Miss La De Da keeps telling me, I am a serial first dater!
I've met a fair few guys over the last 8 years or so, mainly through the various experiments at the personals and internet dating##. Not that many, compared to the number of responses I received - both times I advertised in the personals I clocked up over 100 responses (that just shows I'm good at marketing, not so great at sales). I spoke to lots, but probably only met about 10 of them all up, before I usually got a bit feed up with how hard it all was, or Boomerang Boy bounced back for awhile.
Of the men I met, Peter Rabbit is the only one still around. He responded to the 2nd personals ad I placed, and we had a long, funny, interesting telephone conversation and a long, funny, interesting dinner (we closed the restaurant) and I liked him immediately and though I'm very glad to have met him, he's not the one for me, something I realised almost from the beginning. Though I've told him he's going to be one of my bridesmaids, if I ever get married.
So, was that first evening a date? When there was the possibility of there being an attraction? And once, the possibility of attraction is gone, anything else is not considered a date?
On Saturday, my tarot teacher organised a lunch with current and former students that she thought might connect. Six of us met, and I for one, had a lovely time, and would happily meet these women again. Unlike, Peter Rabbit and his cronies, we talked about all sorts of things including men and relationships...as all of us, ranging in age from early 30s to 57 are either single or divorced.
One of the women told the story of a friend, dating a guy, after both had been divorced. Early on, on one of their first dates he announced that he had no intention of ever remarrying. To which she replied, really - I have ever intention of getting married again. And she said, it's ok that you told me, now I know how much energy to put into this relationship with you, as despite the fact that I like you a lot, I definitely plan to be an old married lady, obviously not to you though. They were married two years later!
She said, that you need to be clear about what you want, and make that clear to men###. If you're happy to be friends with benefits, then say so. But if you really want to be in a committed relationship, make that clear from the beginning.
At some level, I understood what she was talking about but I also found the conversation unsettling. I should just come straight out and tell people what I want... sure... once I work out what the hell that is!
Do I want to be married? Will admit never did do the whole dreamy playing bride thing as a little girl, though I did get hitched to George#### behind the shelter sheds in Grade 3 in a mock wedding, but as my friend Kazz was the minister, I don't think it counts, does it. Maybe that's why I can't imagine being married to anyone else, I'm betrothed already!
Isn't the question more do I want to be married to you? Whoever, you happen to be... But I don't think in those terms. I think about do I want to spend time with you, do you make me laugh, do you turn me on, can I imagine my life without you in it? Whether we are married or not, live together or just visit on occasion is just housekeeping isn't it?
That blasted switch!
Boomerang Boy used to tell me that I had a flashing light on my forehead that used to say 'take me, take me' - actually he was a bit cruder, when he talked about it, but that was the gist. I don't think that's what the flashing light said, but I am aware of sometimes flicking on a switch, that kicks me into another gear, where I find myself responsive and open to the interest of men.
That damn switch has been on for months... as I've been open to the possibilities of what the world has to offer, finally putting Boomerang Boy in the past where he belongs. And it shows I guess, which is probably why I've got friends trying to set me up with people, left and centre. And it was shining brightest when I've been playing with the Nature Boy over the last few months, despite the fact, that our friendship was mostly silly stuff and nothing overtly sexual in any of it.
And since my little meltdown of the other week with him, the light hasn't gone out completely, but it's wavering and flickering a bit and would take very little to snuff it out. But I don't want to snuff it out... want to keep the momentum going but am not sure how to go about it.
Suggestions people?
## As to the internet, have had lots of emails and the odd phone call, but have only met one guy through rsvp - met for a coffee, he invited me to stay for dinner and then said he'd like to call me sometime. Rang me a week later to say that he was meeting another couple of women, but that he'd like to stay in touch, which I took to mean that I'd maybe made the team, but was sitting on the interchange bench!
And then out of the blue announced that he was very attracted, and found himself aroused by our conversation at dinner, and was confused, cause he wasn't sure if I was trying to arouse him deliberately - ah -that would be a no! And then asked me, if I had been aroused... ah - that would be a no! Never heard from him again!!!
### Reminds me of a friend telling me that when asked what did she want to get out of the internet dating experience on a first date with a guy, replied - mindless sex - to which he swallowed his tongue! She followed him home on the 2nd date and has been with him every since.
#### He actually remembered... when organising my 20 year school reunion I spoke to George, and he remembered that wedding ceremony, and we had a quiet laugh about it. Was actually looking forward to seeing him, any boy that remember that about you when you were 9 is worth a check out I reckon, but he didn't show...
Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep.... argh... in bed at 11.15pm (early for me) and drifted off almost immediately and then woke up at 1.44am and here I am...
Only have 1 more day of work before a 10 day break, but it's going to be a crazy day... whose idea was it to organise fire warden/ fire extinguisher training on the afternoon of the day before Easter? Oh yes, that would be me!!!
Have started to read 2 separate books tonight... talk about a contradiction ... Georgette Heyer's Devils Club (historical romance) and Sherilyn Kenyon's Unleash the Night (shapeshifter romance)... can't be stuffed reading either of them...anyone else get 50 pages into a book before giving it the heaveho? My Mum is compulsive, once she starts a book, she has to finish it. And she often rereads things without realising it until almost the end, and then say's oops I've read this before...
A friend had recommended the Kenyon series to me, so when Dymocks had a couple for $4 at Christmas time I bought 2 of them. It doesn't bode well, that I'm skipping ahead to the sexy bits already... and even got bored with those.
... so sat and read the Property Guide and the Target Catalogue... know I'm really losing it when I'm looking seriously at the kid's toy section...
And have been reading through the archives of some recently discovered blogs as well as looking at houses online that I might like to buy when the great god of lotto decides to bless me... I like the listings with floorplans as I can imagine which room will be my library, and which my study etc.
Would really like a house with an attic with dormer windows or better still a turret... and a covered verandah all the way around the outside. Probably says a lot about me, that if I ever wanted an architect to design a house for me, I'd take copies of movies and say I want something like this... This being something like the house in Hayley Mill's version of Pollyanna or Practical Magic. Oh my... there is a website dedicated to Practical Magic that has lots of photo's of that house.
I loved the kitchen and conservatory and pantry... it's very weird how much I obsess over the look of kitchens, and love to browse through homewares stores and look at kitchen gadgets when I NEVER COOK....
Going to go and try and see if I can get a little bit of sleep... if not, I'll probably be up later doing some ironing...argh...
