Wednesday 25 July 2007

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal... Albert Camus

Your Quirk Factor: 70%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal.
No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."


So is it a sign of my quirkiness that this score pleased me? Considering even my Director at work not that long ago smiled at me and shook her head and said "You're a little crazy aren't you?" I guess it's safe to say I'm no longer expending unneccessary energy...

"How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who
insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being"... Oscar Wilde ##

Told the Nature Boy the other day that my ideal man would be a bit like Oscar Wilde... but maybe not gay... and definitely not dead...

To Do List:
* Find me a man who will celebrate my quirkiness


Monday 23 July 2007

The Moaning Meme...

"I need not suffer in silence while I can still moan, whimper, and complain" Anonymous


I probably should be moaning about memes as I got tagged THREE times in the last week... but I ain't complaining.

My friend, Candid Katrina - who writes great things and has the best Wordless Wednesdays by the way, so go check her out, if you don't read her already... tagged me for this one... created by The Freelance Critic.

He says: "If you've ever listened to people talking on a bus you'll know that most of what they say is negative. They talk about things they hate, people that annoy them and boyfriends that let them down before they even think about mentioning the 'nice things.'

All of us do it. We find it natural, when with a friend, to moan.In fact a recent study has shown that the most effective form of human bonding is moaning and gossiping.Yet our blogs, the social tools of the 21st century, are populated by memes listing our 'favourites,' or our 'blessings,' or our 'funniest' moments. In our efforts to be readable we have denied others the one thing that makes us interesting - our whining, moaning, complaining selves.And so I am pleased to present the first ever Moaning Meme! The meme that will teach us all a bit more about each other and ourselves.It's time to spread some Personality... "

The Moaning Meme

5 people who will be annoyed you tagged them.

1. Wylie

2. Rhian (only cause I think her answers to this will be a crack-up)

3. Starrlight - cause she tagged me!

4. Anne

5. Gabriella

4 things that should go into room 101 and be removed from the face of the earth.

One - Low Fat icecream - seriously, if I'm going to have icecream, then I want the highest level of fat available

Two - Compound Chocolate

Three - Late night infomercials - what happened to oldey, late night movies, so if you couldn't sleep you could at least watch something interesting while you did your ironing at 3.00am

Four - The assumption that just because you're round, you are also tall! Am sick of chopping 5 or more inches of the bottom of pants... though maybe if I wasn't so particularly about 1 and 2 this might not be a problem

3 things people do that make you want to shake them violently.

One - Be rude to wait staff or telephone canvassers... somebody has to do this job... be nice

Two - hog parking spots, so that you can't get in front of them or behind them

Three - complain about the rain... we're experiencing a drought people... you should be thankful

2 things you find yourself moaning about.

One - why I can't meet anyone who wants to race me off...

Two - spoonfeeding people at work, which means I never have time to do my own work

1 thing the above answers tell you about yourself.

I'm not very tolerant of people who are intolerant! And I obsess about food, a lot!

RULES:*Link to the original meme at FreelanceCynic.com so people know what it's all about!*Be as honest as possible, This is about letting people get to know the real you!*Try not to insult anyone - unless they really deserve it or are very, very ugly! *Post these rules at the end of every meme!Finally remember, cynical is sexy. At least that's what I'm hoping...

Unconscious Mutterings #11 ... I saw and you think...?

Free association is described as a "psychonanalytic procedure in which a person is encouraged to give free rein to his or her thoughts and feelings, verbalizing whatever comes into the mind without monitoring its content." Over time, this technique is supposed to help bring forth repressed thoughts and feelings that the person can then work through to gain a better sense of self. Each week ten words are posted at Unconscious Mutterings to which you can respond to with the first thing that comes to mind. If you want to have a go register by clicking the logo at left above or the link included in this paragraph.

  1. Deputy :: Dawg

  2. Name :: of the Rose

  3. Arrested :: Development

  4. Trade :: Union

  5. Old :: Fogey

  6. Fingerprint :: Ink

  7. Dwarf :: Zee plane, zee plane

  8. Newspaper :: Print

  9. Gabriel :: Angel

  10. Certificate :: of Currency

Wednesday 18 July 2007

Thursday Thirteen #10... Me, Myself and I...


This is my 100th post, and for my 100th post I wanted to do the 100 things about me, but it so happens it's also Thursday 13, so I've fudged a bit (I am nothing, if not creative!) and come up with 13 categories, that include 100 things about me...

ONE: WE ARE FAMILY...
1. I am the middle child of three with a younger sister and an older brother

2. I am 11 months younger than my brother, and 15 months older than my sister

3. Yes, this meant my mother was almost permanently pregnant for 3 years

4. My mother met my father when she was 8 and he was 11, when her sister married his brother, though she doesn't remember him being around much till around her 17th birthday

5. My parents were married at 19 and 22, with a ready made family by the time my mother was 23

6. My parents divorced when I was 23

7. My sister is the only one of us kids to have married, she met her future husband at 17, married him at 20, had 2 children by the time she was 25 and was divorced at 33 - she almost replicated my mother's life...

8. My father died 4 years ago unexpectedly, from the complications from a cold... which is odd, considering he'd survived multiple suicide attempts, tuberculosis, hepatitis, liver and bowel cancer, alcoholism, a broken hip and 3 major surgeries to relieve pressure on his brain.

9. I had divorced him... breaking off all contact with him after he'd asked to be left the f@#k alone, 18 months prior to his death...

TWO: YOU MUST HAVE BEEN A BEAUTIFUL BABY...
10. I was born on a Friday, and Mum chopped a load of firewood, left my brother with a neighbour and took herself off to the hospital in a taxi on her own. She didn't have a visitor until the following afternoon

11. I was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and was taken out of the delivery room and my mother didn't see me again until 5 hours later... she thought I had died!

12. My Dad didn't see me for almost 3 days, as he'd gone on a bender with his mates and didn't come home till Sunday, to an empty house and a note on the door to tell him where Mum was

13. I was allergic to my mother's breast milk... as well as most types of formula

14. At 6 weeks old my mother propped me up in my high chair, surrounded by pillows with pantyhose tied around my waist to hold me in, as I screamed blue murder if they tried to place me in another room... I needed to be where all the action was... nothing much has changed

15. I walked at 10 months, long before my almost 2 year old brother... he only walked because I used to steal his toys from him

16. I never talked baby talk, going from silence to full words... and I haven't stopped talking since

17. I had a mop of blond curls, blue eyes and dimples... and by all accounts was a pretty, happy baby... smiling more often then crying...


THREE: YOUNG AT HEART...
18. I went almost 12 months eating nothing but plain boiled rice and spaghetti and baked beans... I still love all three...

19. Watching a TV program where a man stuffed cotton wool in his cheeks and up his nose to disguise himself, I attempted to do the same... but instead used the beads from a broken necklace of my mothers... and managed to have one bead lodge at the top of my nose, close to my eye, that had to be extracted by a doctor

20. At 3, I dressed up in my mother's hat and gloves and an old handbag, and told her I was off to the doctor. She went along with me, and only realising after an hour of quiet that I had actually learnt how to unlatch the front door and had disappeared. We lived in a street that backed on to Ripponlea Mansion and the back gates and had been left open, so a search party was established, fearing if I'd wondered into the grounds I might be lost for days. Instead, I'd walked up to the main road and had walked across the pedestrian crossing. A driver starting off from what he thought was a clear crossing, felt a slight bump and got out to find me on the ground in front of his wheels.

21. I won the Kindergarten fancy dress competition, dressed as Mavis Bramston, in a black chiffon shirt, a black wig, Jacqui O sunglasses, and a cigarette holder... I won a picture book of The Three Little Pigs.. I was 4

22. I used to wet my pants... not because of some nervous affliction, nor because of any medical condition... I just used to get engrossed in some activity and forget to go to the toilet until it was too late and then I'd have an accident... don't pee my pants anymore, but I often forget to eat and drink because I'm concentrating on some fancy

23. My mother always knew when I had pee'd my pants as I would take them off and put them in the laundry hamper, wherever we happened to be, and go bare-assed for the rest of the day

24. I had an imaginary pony, called Tony! He lived under the kitchen table and ate pretend carrots...

25. An aunt trying to coax us into bed one Christmas Eve took us to the window to tell us if Santa came and we were still awake he wouldn't leave presents. What must have been the tail-lights of a plane had us convinced it was Santa and Rudolf... so we scurried into bed, but I stayed awake peering through my lashes for half the night, not wanting to miss seeing Santa come down the chimney... but we didn't have a chimney...


FOUR: STORY OF A GIRL...
26. I could add, subtract and multiply double digits before starting school, because my uncle set me homework every time he came to visit, but interestingly enough, I couldn't read before I started school

27. I made up for that with a vengeance, by reading the entire 1st year reading material before the end of 1st term, and then the 2nd year material by midway through the year. My teacher encouraged my mother to get me a library card!

28. My mother talks about me coming home from my first day at school most indignant, as only the children who cried got sweets, whereas those of us who were brave were not rewarded at all... my sense of justice was well and truly in force already

29. I was one of those nerdy kids who loved school... I used to cry if I couldn't go.

30. I was a clever clod, but also very friendly, so apart from being pushed down the stairs by a boy in my final year of primary school because I won a student scholarship, I managed to straddle the divide of popular and nerd reasonably well

31. My mother allowed us to be exposed to a variety of religious experiences, we went on Methodist picnics and to Greek Orthodox Sunday School

32. My father, on the other hand, blew a gasket when a note came home from school with suggested dates for my first communion... we were not Catholic

33. The nun who provided Catholic studies at school thought I might have had a vocation, why else would I have passed myself off as Catholic. She was very disappointed to have me tell her it was because the Junior Catholic Bibles had lovely coloured pictures in them

34. I was and still am a clumsy clot... totally unaware of my physical self... so spent most of my childhood covered in bruises and scabs

35. I've never been very sporty... totally uncoordinated, though I have danced on and off for most of my life. At school I was part of a group that used to learn a traditional folk dance, and then we would teach the rest of the school... I love Zorba the Greek to this day...

36. Though I was a mean Wing Defence till a fall, splat, straight on to one knee, ended my netball career, and resulted in my wearing a knee brace and having a walking stick for almost 6 months. The knee is still a bit dodgy... and aches when it's damp...

37. My mother talks about the time I told my brother to get f@#ked... I was probably about 7 at the time, and I was told not to say that word... so asked my favourite question - Why? Cause, you shouldn't say words if you don't know what they mean, to which I replied - but I do know. Mum called my bluff... "ok, smartypants, what does it mean?" she asked, to which I replied "its when a man and a lady get stuck together!"


FIVE: TEENAGE DIRTBAG...
38. I was a bit of a good girl, but had my moments of rebellion... was always getting into trouble for completing my work and then distracting the other kids by talking

39. My high school was very progressive, so instead of being in a class with students my year, at the end of the first year they assessed students and placed them in one of four units... Unit One, being the most relaxed and informal going up to Unit Four, which was predominantly traditional class room style, though Years 7-9 together - guess, which unit I ended up in? Yep, one...

40. Imagine about 100+ kids roaming around a huge open room with half a dozen teachers, and you've got an idea about 3 years of high school for me... we created our own language with it's own written and oral rules in English class, developed our own societies, experimenting with a variety of governing styles, built cubbyhouses, fiercely debated everything that came out of our teachers mouths and generally created chaos... I loved it!

41. Of course, when I got to the equivalent of year 10 and they started prepping us for exams etc. it was a major shock... what do you mean I have to produce written material?

42. Consequently I failed my HSC ... and was so miserable my last two years of high school it took me over 20 years to go back to study... and even now I struggle within the confines and restrictions of formal education

43. I got drunk for the first time at 16 during the lunch break, on Southern Comfort, and then fell asleep in my English Literature class, which was taught by the principal

44. My first trip to a pub at age 17, sitting in the beer garden of the Yarra Hotel in Collingwood, the place was raided by the cops, with underaged girls flying off into the toilets, only to be hauled out and away. An older guy, said to me, "go up to the bar and buy a jug of beer", which I did, and then casually brought it back to our table. My friend and I and he were the only ones not spoken to. And when the cops left and I expressed relief, he floored me, but saying "yeah, me too - I've got a baggie of pot tucked into my underpants"


SIX: I AM WOMAN...
45. From my mid twenties till about 35 I was invisible... I had friends, most of whom are still around, but I would and could be introduced to someone multiple times and they would not remember me

46. I went away on my own on holiday the year I turned 28, and did not speak to another living soul for a week and for the first time discovered my need to go into hibernation in order to survive

47. While away I made a list of things I wanted to achieve before I was 30 - the first and only time I have ever made such a list. I promptly forgot about it, until I found it at around 32 and just mentally adjusted the timeframes to 35, then 40 etc.

48. The list primarily was focused on having a place of my own and a child of my own... but makes no reference to having a partner

49. I'm obviously a late bloomer, or a late rebel... getting a tattoo at 38, around the same time I started tap dancing, and now joining a choir at 46

50. A friend wanted to know what was I going to do next.. and I said.. I don't know - stand up comedy? To which she replied, "actually that wouldn't surprise me at all"

SEVEN: DO YOU THINK I'M SEXY...
51. My first proper french kiss was a guy called Burkey... it was horrible... and worse, he told everyone, and I didn't kiss anyone again for a number of years

52. I had a major crush on a guy in high school who referred to me as Blob... I used to call him Shithead... he once said to me "What are you going to be when you grow up? You can't be an elephant in disguise all your life!" starting me on my path of being fatally attracted to sarcastic, clever bastards!

53. I mooned over a boy through primary and high school and only discovered at my 20 year high school reunion that he'd had a crush on me too...

54. For most of my teens and 20s, I thought I was not attractive as a female... an 'honorary boy' who used to hang with the guys, talk to them, but they rarely tried to grope or kiss me. It is only now looking back that I realise quite a few of them were probably interested in me, but I was totally oblivious and clueless.

55. Flirting is much easier when I'm a bit liquored up... now that I rarely drink, I find it difficult to really flirt... I miss it!

56. Because I am naturally curious about people including all things male, I've often found myself having the weirdest conversations about men and sex... and it confuses men no end, just cause I'm happy to discuss sex doesn't mean I actually want to have it... well, not with you, anyway!

EIGHT: WORKING FOR THE MAN...
57. I started working part-time in gift/record/lotto shop at 14, earning the princely sum of .75c an hour. Within a month, I was doing all the lotto bookwork and continued to work part-time until I left high school

58. I left school and went straight into a full time job, and I've never been unemployed since

59. I have been a mail sorter (specialising in postcodes - almost 30 years later I can still remember most Melbourne suburban codes), receptionist, secretary, reception clerk, book-keeper, payroll officer, office manager, executive assistant, project officer and now, an OH&S advisor

60. I have worked for hotels and motels, a major arts festival, an independent economic research institute, a disability support service, an architectural practice, a major cultural institution, a TAFE college and now a local government

61. I still haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up...


NINE: A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME...
62. I moved into a share house at 19, my room was a hexagonal room (former dining room) with lime green and yellow flock wallpaper so bright that sometimes I could still see it on my eyelids with my eyes closed.

63. The one guy who lived there (married to one of the women) was caught with his eye to keyhole of one of the other girl's bedrooms (his wife's sister).

64. I was the only person who worked full-time, the others all students with waiting jobs, so I would come home to discover they'd used up all the milk and bread and taken the 'kitty' money to buy fish and chips.

65. I hated it so much, that I started going home on weekends, supposedly so that I could do my washing, that gradually extended in to staying 3 to 4 days a week, and I discovered I'd slowly moved most of my belongings back

66. I moved back temporarily, and agreed to take over the mortgage with my brother when my parents separated so that my Mum didn't lose the house, and ended up staying for almost 20 years

67. I moved out 5 years ago... after agonising over having the conversation that I wanted to live on my own for nearly 12 months, and did the big blurt and was gone in less than a month

68. I live with Gertie and Gracie, two tortoiseshell cats... Gracie spends most of her time hiding under furniture or under the doona sleeping, only appearing briefly to eat, and occasionally when she's really tired, have a cuddle

69. Gertie, on the other hand, is my girl... wherever I am, she is... or at least she makes sure I am in eye contact... she is curled up on a beanbag at my feet as I write this, occasionally stretching out to give my foot a nudge

70. I never realised until I moved out on my own how much I crave silence and my own company

71. I don't think I will ever willingly share my home with someone again...


TEN: WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS...
72. One of my closest friends sat next to me in prep class... apart from family, she's the person I've known the longest in my life and I love her to bits... a single mother of 4, she's off doing a "Shirley Valentine' in Greece - away on her own for the next 3 months, the first time since she was 18... I am so proud of her

73. My friends are my family... and while different people move in and out of my life, I have amassed the most amazing group of friends, who make it possible for me to be me...

74. As I get older I find that what male friends I had have, for the most part, drifted away. A lot of them finding it impossible to maintain a friendship with me once they have partnered up or married.

75. MFL is one of the exceptions... I have been in love and now loved him for over 25 years... and while we don't see each other often, I know if I need him he will be there for me, as I will be for him


ELEVEN: DAMN, I WISH I WAS YOUR LOVER...
76. While there have been men through my life that I have been attracted to, there are only 3, possibly 4, that I think of as being important

77. If I like you, then we can be friends, but I need to more than like you to be your lover

78. Boomerang Boy told me that from the beginning, there was nothing casual about me, which is ironic really, as I never placed any expectations on him or a future together, other than I wanted to be with him... for how ever long it seemed right

79. I'd like to think that there is one more 'great love' out there for me...

80. If I can't have one more 'great love' than I guy who makes me feel lust in my panty region on a regular basis would do...

81. Oh, and he has to live within a 10 klm radius, be available to satisfy that lust whenever I want him to, and fete me as the goddess I am...

82. And cook too...

TWELVE: SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS...
83. As previously stated, I haven't decided what I want to be when I grow up yet...

84. Though I always dreamed of owning a bookshop and/or being a writer

85. Through this blog I've discovered that maybe I could be a writer, though I've yet to determine in what forum

86. I'd find it difficult to write full time, my style is anecdotal - I am a storyteller... a participator rather than a spectator... in order to write, I need to interact with others

87. It has been suggested, more than once, that I would make a good therapist... as I am interested in what motivates people, and that I am a good listener, this might be a good career choice for me

88. I, of course, scoff at the notion - with echoes of "physician heal thyself" flashing through my mind

89. That's not to say that I wouldn't be interested in doing some study either in transpersonal therapy or psychology

90. I dream of making a difference... even if that difference is just that I've impacted in a positive way on those people I have met and allowed into my life

91. I've also dreamed of accepting an Academy Award - triple award winner - for writing, directing and starring in a fantabulous movie... oh and singing the theme song!

92. Of course, my Oscar date is my friend with benefits... Mr Clooney...


THIRTEEN: THE FUTURE'S SO BRIGHT I'VE GOT TO WEAR SHADES...
93. I am eternally optimistic... a glass half full, Pollyanna type of girl

94. I have to believe in basic human decency... though I realise that the world is a scary place these days

95. But on a personal level, these days are, for the most part, good...

96. I'm still a 'gunna' - gunna do this and gunna do that... but I'm happy to be that way... for the first time, genuinely happy with my lot.

97. I feel like I am still at the beginning of my life, though my physical self occasionally has to remind me that that is in fact, not so.

98. It is the journey that is important to me, not the destination...

99. And my fervent wish is that many of you will continue to share my journey with me as I bumble along... singing out of tune, dancing like a dork and laughing like a loon...

100. To be continued...


Holy crap, you talk about sex a lot...

Free Online Dating



This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:

* sex (19x)
* crap (2x)
* penis (1x)

Not going to use that other word - it's wwwude...

Sunday 15 July 2007

Help me if you can, I'm feeling .... verklempt....

OK, well... you have no idea how tempted I was to sign up for Alison Kent's 70 Days of Sweat Writing Challenge particularly as most of my favourite people (Rhi - I'm turning into you cause I keep typing peeple or peeps!) including Rhian, Thomma Lyn, Joely, Shiloh and, last but not least, Red are taking up the challenge and I suspect the blog traffic will be a bit slow while they've got their heads down and bums up trying to churn out 4-6 pages of writing a day for the next 70 days.

My 'gunna' personality (I'm gunna do this and I'm gunna do that) kicked in to top gear and I thought "I could do this", it would be a fantastic kick start for me who has a multitude of ideas floating in my head, as this would force me to commit to putting ideas down on paper.

I'm putting it down to slightly flu induced insanity... and cooler/ calmer heads prevailed when I thought about my next 70 days... I have to either draft or review and redraft 32 policies and procedures for work by the end of the year, so that's a big chunk of writing time in my working hours (you know that thing I do, called a job!).

And then I had the internal conversation "oh - I could not write a lot during the week and basically just churn during the weekend" - I am 100% certifiably nuts!

I have 3 hours of choir rehearsal every Sunday for the next 7 weeks, and am barely scratching the surface and need to put some extra hours in so I can actually learn these bloody songs as I am now performing in not 1, not 2 but 3 concerts and what's more have people coming to watch these performances... I'm tired and emotional just thinking about it... add in twice weekly tarot/ meditation classes and housework (which I hate to do at the best of times) and really... What was I thinking?

And it's not like I even have a concrete story idea to flesh out ... as previously stated there are little snippets written down, but most of these story ideas are buried deep in my brain and there is nothing I could just pick up and go 'right - I'm half way through and need to write another 50,000 words to finish'.

So, have decided instead of setting a totally unrealistic for me goal of writing 4-6 pages a day, that I would settle on ONE idea and try to flesh it out and write as much as I can, when I can over the next 70 days.

This is where I need your help! I have not 1, not 2, but 5 story ideas, and need to get a bit of a feel for which ones to try to expand on... would be interested in feedback from any/or all of you as to which story you would most like to read:

IDEA ONE: late 30s/early 40s single quilt shop owner is bullied persuaded by her girl buddies to do the personals thing... so story is a humorous take on singledom and dating. Add in a nerdy, slightly pompous guy who buys the building next door to create his own bookshop to the mix and all sorts of things happen... have a rough draft of the scene where he meets her for the first time, that involves pouring rain, a cat having a litter of kittens, and a very well rounded bottom covered in a sodden pink chenille dressing-gown and bunny slippers (oh, did I say she's a bit of an oddball?) protruding from under a crate.

IDEA TWO: Family of women, mother and 2 sisters, over a 15-20 year period in a small country town and the men they are involved with. One sister, the pretty princess type, the other the shy, brainy one. Main male characters are the local small town boy made good, his estranged father and shy, brainy girl's best friend.

IDEA THREE: 7 friends, 2 sets of brother/sisters, one Aussie, one Greek, growing up in Collingwood during the 60s and 70s. Main story arc is the return of one of the men after being overseas for a number of years and the changing dynamic on the group, who have known each other since primary school but are now adults... Settings include a bookshop run by one of the women, and a bar run by one of the men... some of this comes from my own teenage years growing up in the area.

IDEA FOUR: this is a weird one... something I will definitely explore as fiction at some point, but may need to think about some more. Based on a very realistic dream that I recorded about a decade ago, that felt like a story. A woman in her early 30s, at a business retreat, should have been unconscious but wasn't when the area was investigated by (not sure, aliens? people with special powers? government agents doing an experiment?... all a bit unclear). On discovering her conscious and aware, one of the group (a man of around the same age) takes her with him... and there are various scenes, that indicated that she'd been drugged or brainwashed into not remembering what happened, but at the same time had some deep connection to this man that played out in dreams as she went on to live her life. Told in an alternating POV or possible alternating chapters.

IDEA FIVE: this is the story I've got furthest along with... based on a series of short stories I wrote several years ago... about a relationship between a couple and their exploration of a sexual wishlist... this would be considered erotica in it's present form, I guess. Not hardcore, but relatively frank in its subject matter. Rhian has read one of these stories already, there are probably about 4 or 5 more... would just need some work to write the surrounding story around them to create a cohesive structure.

To be honest, it's idea one I've had the most fun thinking about in the last little while... it's genesis was a similar story about quilt shop owner and her buddies and the dating thing, except in the original story all her dates were being attacked and the slightly pompous guy was the policeman investigating these incidents. Wrote about 10 or so pages, before I decided I didn't really enjoy writing that involved inflicting harm on someone so dropped it, and have been working through alternating scenarios ever since.

So which one would you read? Why?

Thursday 12 July 2007

Thursday Thirteen #10... 13 Things about Pluto and Firing the Grid


Today's Thursday 13 is what the Nature Boy would call me and my 'fluffy chakra, airy/fairy stuff'... so ...

One: The Galactic Centre is the centre of the Milky Way, 30,000 light years away, and hidden from optical view by dust clouds, but is said to include a massive black hole. You can see a fantastic photo here. Astrologically, the Galactic Centre is located near the end of the sign of Sagittarius.


Two: Between December 2006 and October 2007, Pluto, the slowest moving planet (I know, I know, it's not technically a planet any more, but) will align or conjunct with the Galactic Centre. The three critical dates were it is in alignment are 29 December 2006, 17th July 2007, 28th October 2007

Three: Pluto was discovered in the early 1930s and has been linked to the rise of fascism, the onset of the Great Depression and the creation of atomic power.

Four: Pluto takes approximately 248 years to orbit the sun, and the last time it was in conjunction with the Galactic Centre was in 1745 on the cusp of the Industrial Revolution.

Five: Astrologically, key words or phrases that represent Pluto are transformation, renewal, death/rebirth, evolution, degeneration and regeneration. This Planet's energy is often focused on the masses and what the collective will do. Asking us to look inward (and to our subconscious) to see what's there.

Six: At 11.11am Greenwich Mean Time on Tuesday 17th July 2007 (the 2nd Pluto conjunction with the Galactic Centre) there is a worldwide plea to Fire The Grid of the earth to send healing energy to the earth's core.

Seven: Its simple... on or around 11.11am GMT (9.11pm here on the east coast of Australia - here is a link to a time clock for you to calculate your own time if you'd like) people of all faiths and beliefs, either alone or in groups, are being asked to pray or meditate for one hour to help to heal the planet and to reflect on our individual inner journeys.

Eight: Shelley Yates has a website Fire the Grid, were she discusses her own personal journey and explains the premise behind firing the grid in more detail.

Nine: Whether or not you believe fully in Shelley's story is immaterial. I think this would be a lovely and worthwhile thing to do anyway, to reinforce a sense of faith in both ourselves as humans, and the planet we live in. It's an hour of our time, that can be nothing other than beneficial, if only to give us a brief respite from what seems to be a world racing ahead of us or to provide some personal insights.

Ten: I know personally, and in conversations with friends I know I am not the only one, that this year has held a sense of change, that I myself have been going through a strong sense of personal transformation, a feeling that I and others are on the cusp of something that has never been experienced before and with that comes both excitement and fear.

Eleven: As I am still not feeling very well, I had already resolved to nourish myself both physically and emotionally a lot more than I have been doing lately. As someone who lives almost exclusively in her head, I am often forgetful of even the most basic human needs like sleep, food, drink... if it wasn't something by body did automatically, I suspect I'd forget to breathe.

Twelve: So on Tuesday evening I will be trying to leave work at a normal hour, to come home and have a simple dinner, change into sweats, burn some essential oils, play some calming music, light candles and meditate, and hopefully then sleep.

Thirteen: If you decide to also participate, and you feel comfortable doing so, I'd love to hear how you went. I'll be recording any feelings/ impressions in my meditation journal.

Monday 9 July 2007

And the Dorks shall inherit the earth...


The wonderful Rhian has created a new award, and I'm lucky enough to be one of the first recipients,

Now some of you may be wondering about what makes me so special, but of course, this is not my only claim to dorkiness... I'm such a uber-dork I have my own categories.


Dancing...
There's the How I was a Human Bowling Ball and lived to tell the Tale...story that was my award winning entry.

And there was my tapdancing debut. Do you remember The Village People's Do the Shake? Now, imagine a 38 year old, little fat girl, dressed as a cow, tapdancing badly to this song. We stomped onto the stage, and at one point I was so nervous, that I had disorientated myself, and instead of ending up with the rest of the troops at the back of the stage, I had moved forward, so doing an involuntary solo... another couple of missteps and I would have gone over the edge of the stage!

Year two wasn't any better... doing a gangster/ showgirl routine to Madonna's Hanky Panky. Except, I'm not showgirl material, so instead of a gold, tinselly sexpot I looked like a gold, tinselly sausage... crammed into a dress that shed all day in a major heatwave in a theatre without air-conditioning. That was ok... but a fellow dancemate and I, losing our place, and jumping 2 verses ahead of everyone else wasn't... and with my teacher's mantra running through my head of whatever you do, don't stop dancing... I made up my own little interpretive dance that was a mix of Shirley Temple and whirling dervish.

Fashion...
Those of you who have been reading the Tales of Miss Frou Frou from the beginning will be familiar with one of my earliest posts about my various fashion faux pas...

Dating and Food...
Sigh... I'm the girl who always manages to miss her mouth when eating and trying to make an impression. Two examples that spring to mind, going to take a drink out of a megacup of Coke at the movies on a date once and squeezing the cup just a little too hard and ending up with half the cup in my cleavage.... or even more embarrassing, laughing at a date's joke just as I took a sip of hot chocolate and ending up spraying it out my nose... and no, surprise, surprise... never had a second date with either.

Slips, Trips and Pratfalls...
Apart from my human bowling ball routine, I also regularly trip over ants...

Fell down a flight of stairs at Flinders Street Railway Station once... one step, and I bounced all the way down and was still hanging on to a suitcase and a shoulder bag when I hit the bottom... actually they were the cause of my, minor, injuries... a bump on the nose from the suitcase hitting me in the face all the way down and a twisted finger as my denim shoulderbag straps had twisted around my finger.

But the most uber-dorkish moment was arriving for a football match that MFL was playing in on a day when it had rained incessantly. Walked up to the car my godmother was sitting in, and did the big dramatic 'ta da' and went arse over tit in the mud. My godmother burst into laughter and the woman sitting in the drivers seat was asking 'where did she go...?' My beautiful new red chenille top was covered in cold, wet, sloppy mud.

But that wasn't the worst... luckily I was going to stay the weekend, so had a change of clothes in the car. Took my young godsister with me, while I changed in the car, she was supposed to play lookout and let me know if someone came along who could see. Got stripped down to my undies and changed and only then noticed the man sitting in the car parked in front, looking avidly into his rear view mirror. My godsister's response when I asked why had she not told me he was there... you said, tell me if someone comes along... he's been there all along!

There have been way too many examples of tripping both up and down stairs, or slipping on uneven floor surfaces too keep track... my knees and shins have callouses.

I'm not going to award a Uber-Dork award to anyone else... not sure if there is anyone else beamed down from my planet... but feel free to share your own uber-dork stories.


I will regard this great honor not so much as an award for what I have achieved, but a standard to hold against what I have yet to accomplish...
Eve Harrington, All About Eve, 1950

Unconscious Mutterings #10 ... I saw and you think...?

Free association is described as a "psychonanalytic procedure in which a person is encouraged to give free rein to his or her thoughts and feelings, verbalizing whatever comes into the mind without monitoring its content." Over time, this technique is supposed to help bring forth repressed thoughts and feelings that the person can then work through to gain a better sense of self. Each week ten words are posted at Unconscious Mutterings to which you can respond to with the first thing that comes to mind. If you want to have a go register by clicking the logo at left above or the link included in this paragraph.

  1. Happen :: Stance

  2. Terribly :: Posh

  3. History :: Never Repeats


  4. Master :: Blaster

  5. Petrified :: Forest

  6. Moan :: and Groan

  7. Attack :: of the Killer Tomatoes

  8. Picture :: Tells a Story

  9. Students :: Snotty-nosed

  10. Potter :: Harry, of course!


Thursday 5 July 2007

Thursday Thirteen #9... 13 Random Thoughts from a Space Cadet


Well, I'm sorry I've been away... head cold turned into a major dose of flu, still not quite up to scratch, but getting there slowly. Thank you to all of you for lovely messages... nice to know I was missed a little...

So, today's Thursday Thirteen - the week that was for me...

One - learning to sing songs in another language (koori, polynesian and east timorese) is a bit difficult when you feel like you're walking around with a bucket on your head... could barely hear anyone at 2nd choir rehearsal

Two - singing in a group is also a bit of a waste of time in the same circumstances. Miss La De Da was asking me if I was actually singing, to which I replied, yes - loudly from my end - she thought I was miming! Maybe I was practising how I'm going to survive the concerts? Though singing the chorus of Singing in the Rain with my tongue out, knees bent and bum out as part of the warm-up exercise was great fun.

Three - for someone who struggles to sleep, I think I've made up for this year's insomnia in the last week... though fever induced dreams are often less than restful.

Four - I'm going to struggle to look a work colleague in the eye next time I see him considering the fever induced dream I had about him... though I was a bit disappointed on briefly waking that I didn't go back into the dream... hooley dooley... if I didn't already have a fever I sure did after!

Five - Feed the cold, starve the fever they say... pity everything tastes so bloody awful... knew I was really sick when even chocolate couldn't tempt me.

Six - Is it just me, or do other people hate blowing their nose? I hate it, such an inelegant thing to do... particularly when you're full of head cold

Seven - and speaking of noses, why is it that one nostril always gets blocked and the other drips non- stop?

Eight - I am so glad that I kept all my daggy, soft flannel shirts and leggings. I've lived in them for the last week, with big fluffy bedsocks... what with ratty hair, and a red nose and cracked lips I looked a treat... just as well as I live on my own... fancy coming home to that!

Nine - I had a quiet sob to myself at one stage, cause I was on my own... all I wanted was someone to give me a hug... it's hugs and cuddles that I miss more than anything about being single

Ten - Despite being full of snot, I managed to get to my Winter Solstice ceremony, it was lovely, though my meditation was probably temperature induced, had visions of a cavern with a circle of fire rising up to meet a circle of stalactites, which melted and smoked... was told I needed both fire and water, need both to be balanced.

Eleven - If you're going to be a bit spacey, might as well make the most of it, so have been reading Harry Potter - have read the first 3 books pretty much back to back, am now started on number 4.

Twelve - Engaged in even more spaceyness, by spending all of yesterday curled up on the couch watching the first 12 episodes of Heroes... wow, what a fantastic show... perfectly suited my wants and needs...

Thirteen - I've had 12 days of sleepy, dozy, spacey, snotty, achey, shakeydom (only need 1 more and I've got my own version of the seven dwarfs - have you met my friend pukey?)