Following my own Tracks

Is that the girl?

2008-03-29T05:17:00.000-07:00

That was what my neighbour’s friend said to him as I was getting out of my car the other night. The amount of shushing that followed indicated to me that there was a pretty good chance I am in fact “the girl” in question. The obvious question that follows is what I have done to earn the status of the “the girl”…..

I live in a house that is rather close to the house next door…. I think it was built back in the early nineteen hundreds before quarter acre blocks and large fences divided neighbours. I quite like this; it makes you feel close to people without actually having to communicate with them. So, I was vaguely aware that it was possible that people could see what I was up to. Don’t get me wrong I don’t get up to any really wild, crazy stuff…

But…. and feel free to file this under too much information… I do believe that if you can’t feel comfortable walking around in various states of undress in your own space… then what the hell is the point of living on your own. Being scientifically minded I had conducted experiments. I had stood at various spots out on the street to ensure that you could not see into the house. I was pretty sure that my neighbours couldn’t see in.

So of course being scientifically minded, and possibly having too much spare time on my hands, I formulated some hypotheses as to what I have done to earn “the girl” status based on what my neighbours can see:

Is that “the girl” who likes to vacuum at ridiculous hours of the evening?

Is that “the girl” who does irregular lunges and exercise ball sit ups during episodes of the Simpson’s?

Is that “the girl” who regularly leaves her sheets hanging on the line for extended periods of time?

Is that “the girl” whose never-ending cycle of pot plants on the window sill attests to the fact that she’s not good at keeping things alive?

Lastly and possibly the most likely option …..

Is that “the girl” you see naked on a fairly regularly basis?

I guess I should really pull down the blinds

We're all in this together.....

2008-03-22T05:07:00.000-07:00

It’s the new catchphrase isn’t it. The quantum physics take on science that makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside... or perhaps a catchy tune by Ben Lee… or the secret, the laws of attraction .... we’re all in this together, yada yada yada…

I was in a conservation recently, it was after a few wines at the point when things turn philosophical and this topic came up. One person’s take was that because we live in a basically godless, individual-oriented society all of this quantum physics stuff makes us feel warm and fuzzy. In a scientific acceptable way we are all basically connected by atoms and energy... yada, yada, yada

Anyway, so why I am crapping on about this? (yes, I may have consumed some alcohol)

I was on a bus tonight heading out to have some drinks with friends around peak hour time so the bus was pretty full. I had my headphones firmly planted in my ears. We may all be in this together but I don't want to have actually make conversation with strangers...

A girl got on about half way through the trip and sat on one of those three person seats up near the front she got one of the last seats. I noticed her straight away. She looked a little shell-shocked, a few minutes into sitting down the tears started. It wasn't crazy person wailing. It was more restrained, more like I’m trying everything I can not to do this right now at this moment surrounded by people I don’t know but I can’t stop the tears crying.

In that moment in time I watched the people around her studiously looking out windows, fiddling with i-pods and generally looking like they would happily drag themselves over hot coals to be anywhere but around this girls completely exposed pain. I wondered if at that moment she felt like we were all in this together or whether she felt naked and alone surrounded by complete strangers.

I’m sure this all sounds very depressing and emo but it’s late and I’m a little scnickered and it was this moment that really stood out to me in my day….

And then I went Bush...

2008-03-02T02:56:00.000-08:00

Actually, I’m not quite sure if a mountain half an hour from the suburbs qualifies as the bush but it was definitely needed respite from the four walls of my office closing in around me. I’ve realised over the course of the last six weeks that I am not cut out for sitting in one spot for extended periods of time. The girl in the room next door to me has taken to smirking at me as I go for my twentieth walk to the water fountain/café/toilet/library/photocopier/(insert any excuse here).

Anyway, my cranky levels were getting pretty high from all the sitting and generally having to concentrate for extended periods of time…. You know things are getting pretty bad when you want to scream at you relatively blameless roommate “COULD YOU TRY BREATHING A LITTLE QUIETER”.

Note to self… going bush on the hottest day of summer is not the smartest move… but I got to combine three of my favourite things: low level intensity exercise, food and taking pictures of random things… so let me take you on a pictorial walk with me

The first thing we saw was these two butterflies.

They were rather attached to each other.

I suspect it was the butterflies that left my

walking buddy with the song “The Bad Touch”

in her head for the rest of the hike.

And then a bit further along there was lots of rustling in a

bush next to me (I only squealed a little) and this goanna

ran up the tree next to me. He/She was impressively

camouflaged and I thought that I wished human had

evolved this particularly skill. I can think of lots of times

it would come in handy to be able to meld into walls/

furniture etc…

We ended up at a fabulous waterfall which made me want

to become one with nature and dive in but I thought the sightof a slightly pasty naked girl would scar the child nearby

catching tadpoles for life, so I settled for lying on a rock

and sticking my face in the stream.

And then of course we ate… which is really the only reason I exercise anyway! Here’s a picture of the reason I exercise. This is not what I had for lunch… because that would just be ridiculously greedy. This is just a picture of an awesome platter of Greek food. Consider it Food porn for your viewing pleasure :-)

Some Music for You....

2008-02-23T18:00:00.000-08:00

I have some rather cool, talented friends. They do stuff like write, play in bands, and have epic guitar hero battles while still generally balancing doing mature grown-up stuff. Yah know jobs, bills, occasional wee ones …. Although, most seem to be on the late starter front with that last one.

Two of them have launched their new Myspace site with a sampling of their acoustic, folksy pop… check it out here: http://www.myspace.com/sansgrenadine

One’s the falling in love song ….
One’s the bitter *@!* love song…

It will become pretty apparent pretty quickly which is which… although I must warn you the second song is very catchy and you may find yourself walking around singing “fuck you” to yourself for the next few days… you have been warned

Hey there seventeen year old self...

2008-02-17T03:16:00.000-08:00

During the week I saw an article in the paper titled “Letter to Me”, it was basically a few semi-famous Brisbanites writing what they would tell their seventeen year old selves. Cute idea! It appeals to the nostalgic in me. I think it probably appeals to most people over the age of 25 when you’ve accumulated enough cringe-inducing moments and poor decision making to really be able to lay it out there to your younger self.

I have noticed in my Facebook perusing that lots of people list “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” as one of their favourite movies. I think it appeals to the same desire, the desire to order ourselves the smoother versions of our life. I’ll have the blameless life thanks, minus the heartbreak and cringe-inducing moments. Oh yeah and I’ll have fries with that.

Yep, it’s not reality but I thought I would run with it anyway.

So here’s a few of the things I would tell my seventeen year-old self….

• Very shortly Paul Keating is going to the win the election, your sister will show up at home having drunk three quarters a bottle of Jim Beam, when you go into the room to break the news to her she will vomit at your feet, you may want to take a step back.
• Screaming at a bouncer that it’s Saturday night and everyone is bloody drunk will not help your cause.
• Lots of people will come and go out of your life, don’t waste your love and energy on the ones that don’t give it back. But don’t be so hard on yourself when you do. You’ll get much better at spotting the keepers with age….
• All the overseas travel your going to do… great idea…. Although it will leave you with constantly itchy feet
• Try not to lose yourself in other people’s problems. You can’t solve them for them even if you desperately want to.

What would you tell your seventeen year old self?

Embracing my Inner Narcissist

2008-02-09T03:36:00.000-08:00

Are you looking for an extra timewaster? Do you have a burning desire to embrace your inner narcissist? Then head to this website and find out what celebrity you look like....

http://www.myheritage.com/celebrity-face-recognition

First of all you need to whip out the digital camera and take some happy snaps of yourself preferably when you are looking your most attractive (perhaps attempt some kind of sexy gaze at the camera) because you don’t want to end up looking like one of those ugly celebrities…

I’m not sure how politically correct it is but here is a rather cool picture of me morphing into a Native American actress I've never heard of...

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Disturbingly I also look 80% like a chinese man as well....

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Filling in Time.....

2008-02-09T03:28:00.000-08:00

Left work super early yesterday to have some pre-drinks drinks. I’d organised the drinks with some close friends in preparation for a larger social occasion later in the evening. They were my time filler friends. I knew if I had to muster the enthusiasm to head out at 9.00pm in the evening it probably wouldn’t happen…..

The drinks were squeezed in for about an hour and a half perched on a stool, there was a fantastic breeze that broke up the ridiculous mugginess and there was intermittent wafting smells of Indian mixed with laughing and swigging of expensive beer and quantum leaps from one conversation topic to the next….

It went something like this…. Been spending too long a weeks at work, getting stuck in ruts, oh my god how good does that Tandoori smell from the Indian across the road, break-ups and bitter song lyrics*, the lack of logic in attraction, “I carried a Watermelon”** moments in a lift with a cute boy at work, where the hell is this job going, moving back in with parents, mums always being mums and how it makes you a little nutty, reverting back to a bratty child, moving overseas, dreams for the future, insecurities and soccer….

Then I clip clopped my way to the city to have some more drinks with some other lovely people in my half a size to small op-shop shoes wishing I’d chosen comfort over cuteness….

* That would be Ani Di Franco and her “untouchable face”
** Tragic Dirty Dancing reference

Excuse me while I get on a soapbox....

2008-02-04T23:58:00.000-08:00

One of the joys of the blog I think is the ability to voice your opinion without the pesky interference of having to engage in dialogue with people that disagree with you. However in the real world it doesn’t work like that…

...cue recent conversation with friend about defence lawyers and sex-offenders….

Friend: I don’t know how anyone can defend paedophiles…. How can anyone justify that to themselves?

Me: (cue getting ranty) well seeing as it's such a highly paid and regarded area of law I’m guessing that their the lawyers that really believe that everyone deserves representation

Friend: yeah but I just don’t know how you can justify to yourself defending paedophiles….

Me: well if you believe that people have the right to a fair trial or to be presumed innocent until guilty or equality and don’t believe in it for everyone then isn’t that just hypocritical (I can be annoyingly self-righteous when I’m ranting….)

Friend: so would you ever work with them…

Me: yeah, probably

Friend: yeah well… I just don’t understand how you could do that?

I’ve noticed recently that I tend to have surrounded myself with friends who have alarmingly similar world-views. I think we are all pretty far down the bleeding heart left-wing spectrum. I’m a little unsure how this friend slipped through the net....

I did a placement a couple of years ago at a clinic for adolescent sex offenders. I remember talking to the manager about how he coped with the job, he was definitely someone who saw the grey around the edges of life and people and he had three young kids himself. He said this gave him more of vested interest in making the world a little safer. He also told me that he told cab drivers he was a salesman … it was easier apparently than the constant justifications, arguments, listening to people on their soap-boxes. I really admired him. I’m sure he could have been making a shit-load more money somewhere else without having to justify it to cab-drivers….

Also…. Completely unrelated and off the topic… actually no I think I can use the whole left-wing angle as a segue way.... while cruising some other people’s blog’s I found this quote from Maxine McKew talking about her work as a journalist which I found very entertaining……

"People have a nervous collapse when I've actually broken through and got someone to say something honest. It is either regarded as a gaffe, or people say they must have been drunk, or publicly musing aloud, or they didn't realise the tape was running, or I must have had oral sex with them under the table. I find it absurd."

I’m guessing now that she’s a politician she won’t be able to throw around the phrase “oral sex with them under the table” quite as freely.

Haiku for Procastination

2008-02-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

In the rich tradition of shamelessly stealing other people’s ideas (thanks Sherdie) the following blog is a collection of Haikus inspired by rain, taxis, randomness, technology, and procrastination in that order ……

Haiku for a Brisbane winter night

Work til late, dark, rain
pouring down, no umbrella.
Stuff this. Taxi home.
(Copyright: Sherdie 2007)

This is one a friend saw on a random t-shirt at Woodford Folk Festival:

Haiku’s are easy,
But sometimes they don’t make sense.
Big, white, elephant.

Haiku’s stolen from Wikipedia

Three things are certain:
Death, taxes, and lost data.
Guess which has occurred.

Everything is gone;
Your life's work has been destroyed.
Squeeze trigger (yes/no)?

One that I wrote about the process of looking up Haikus on the internet….

Haiku for Procrastination

At computer, I’ve
got important stuff to do.
Hmmm… google haiku.

The Morning after the Night Before

2008-01-26T21:24:00.000-08:00

I am currently greeting my Sunday in a less than enthusiastic state my carefully styled rock hair (*picture lots of bobby pins and bits of spiky bits of hair at different angles*) and smoky eyes from the night before have morphed into a dishevelled panda look. I’m feeling shall we say a little rough around the edges. Last night however was a good night.

Last night I was at the Powerhouse, this place is a big old converted, power station… all exposed brickwork and steel and inner-city funkiness and other adjectives that currently escape me. I was there seeing a local Brisbane band, Women in Docs. They are basically two girls and their guitars rocking out. I first saw these guys play back about eight years ago when they first arrived in Brisbane from Townsville. I was taken to the Zoo one night for their EP launch by a friend who knew them. It was a stinking hot night and there was about twenty of us in the whole place. I bought their EP and it’s still one of my favourite CD’s ever (this website has a few of their songs: http://cdbaby.com/cd/wid3).

During a period of about nine months between a bruised heart/ego and a couple years spent overseas I was living in West End and they had a regular gigs at the local pool hall/pub. Many Sundays were spent hanging out listening to their take on the world. I’ll leave you with some of the lyrics from the travelling song which I always envisaged was a response to the standard question “How was your overseas trip?” which people often ask but aren’t really all that interested in the answer….apologies for butchered lyrics…

“I’ve seen the pyramids; I’ve travelled the Nile,
I have run with bulls; had thorns in my side.
I have drunk with an Irish lord, I’ve wandered through ghost towns with rival wars that never close downs.
I’ve been stripped to the soul ….I have tasted the glorious and all I have to say is I had a good year last year the world took my head and I disappeared and I don’t know where to go anymore round here…..”

“I needed that ham, really needed it. I pay the rent what do you do. I hate you more than life itself”…Sharehousing

2008-01-26T21:13:00.000-08:00

The heading of this blog entry is taken a new book called “I lick my cheese” and other notes from the frontline of flat-sharing. Apparently it’s a collection of notes that flatmates have left each other over the years… the one on the website says “I needed that ham, really needed it. I pay the rent what do you do. I hate you more than life itself”… perhaps I have somewhat dry sense of humour but it made me laugh out loud and I am now resolved to track this book down. It was mentioned by one of my favourite columnists you can read her article here: http://www.news.com.au/couriermail/story/0,23739,23097109-5012506,00.html).

Over the years I have shared my space with many people but there is really only one flatmate that stands out in my memory. The strange world that is facebook has recently reconnected me with an old friend who shared this same flatmate experience. We had lived together a few years ago.... the connection that ended in our living together was a third girl we were at university with. We were both much better friends with her than each other, until we lived together that it is. It was that first few months living together that we bonded over the sheer terror of our new living arrangement.

Now, terror may sound like an over-exaggeration… but I’m not talking about a housemate that eats your food, doesn’t pay their bills, is unemployed and decides to set up their life underneath their donna in the living room or has random sex with different guys so that you’re regularly making small talk with men with chains hanging off their belt while eating your breakfast…No, these are all situations that I’ve encountered and coped with. We were literally living in a state of fear.

In hindsight the signs of a serious “personality disturbance” had been there: the harsh judgements of other people based on pretty minor things, the disturbingly graphic descriptions of the things she would like to do to people that pissed her off, the rigidness bordering on self-punishment that included running for an hour every morning whether she had a fever, or it was pouring with rain. I don’t want to make light of the fact that she was a girl in a whole lot of pain but sometimes people who are a bit rough around the edges have an energy and impulsiveness that can be exciting and fun. I guess that is what had attracted both of us to being friends with her in the first place…

However, it was at the two month mark that we decided that: spending a good ten minutes making sure everything was exactly as we had left it, ensuring there was not a spot of water on any of the benches and being on edge when she would walk through the door inspecting the house wondering when the next explosion was going to happen was not a normal way to live. I think the defining moments were when she threatened to put my head through a wall for using hairspray in the bathroom (well she had asked me not to) and Cathy almost being reduced to tears at the thought of what was going to happen to her when she accidentally broke this girl’s mirror. It’s been years now but I saw her at uni about six months and the way she looked at me I could tell the hatred was still there. I don’t know what it would be like to carry that level of anger around with you every day. Exhausting and terrifying I imagine.

Goon of Fortune

2008-01-19T05:13:00.000-08:00

I’ve spent the past few weeks trying to gently coax my body out of holiday mode. Back into a rhythm that doesn’t involve late nights and midday naps. Starting out a new year where if the past few years are anything to go by there will probably be lots of new faces in my life. There is a seductive excitement, a shinyness (I’m know this is not an official word it’s my word) that comes with meeting new people, making new friends, new relationships…. When you have no history it’s like a blank slate this person doesn’t know any of the back stories and you can choose to give it way in little pieces or big chunks. Then of course there are the few people who not only know the entire back catalogue but are more than happy to jog your memory lest you choose to forget the less classy moments in your life….

So what am I going on about? I was at a wine club yesterday afternoon organised by my place of work. It was basically a group of about ten people discussing among other things wine. I learnt that the majority of people would not be impressed if a bottle that cost less than fifteen dollars was brought along. There was also some general sneering at people who drink cask wine. The major highlight was one girl recounting her “goon of fortune” experiences. It was around the time that office politics started being discussed that I made my exit….

I was recounting this experience to a friend; the lovely wine glasses, the no-bottles less than fifteen dollars accepted rule, the somewhat stilted conversation, when I mentioned “goon of fortune” she was quick to refresh my memory of teenage parties involving hill hoists, four litre bladders of wine attached to the hill hoists and herself hanging upside down from this contraption sculling something that cost much less than $15 a bottle… so the next time I’m listening to someone discuss the merits of different types of wine I’m going to call on that memory and smile.

Tom Cruise: Crazy Town or Misunderstood?

2008-01-17T15:51:00.000-08:00

Have you ever pondered one of life's truly meaningful questions.... is Tom Cruise a total nutbag or just misunderstood.... watch this video and decide for yourself. I heard on the radio last night on my way home that the scientologists have won some court battle forcing google to take this video down but it is still up there for the moment. If you can figure out what the hell he is talking about let me know.... and make sure you read the comments they are the comedy highlight

http://gawker.com/5002269/the-cruise-indoctrination-video-scientology-tried-to-suppress

I don't have any New Years Resolutions

2008-01-13T05:40:00.000-08:00

In the past few weeks I’ve been in the midst of numerous conversations where the “What’s your New Years Resolution?” question has been the topic of discussion. I’ve listened to people talk about the things they would like to change about themselves and their lives. This is an activity that I myself have been a part of for a good ten years thinking of the annual checklist of things to rectify in the coming year.

Which brings me to a question? Do teenagers have new years resolutions? I don’t remember having these conversations in high school? I’m pretty sure you officially hit resolution territory when you get to your twenties …. But anyway I’m getting off track (which I tend to do quite frequently)….

About half way through this year I had an epiphany brought about by reading two blogs one written by a good friend and another by a complete stranger and was crystallized in a wonderfully drunken evening that followed with many other friends. These are of course when most epiphanies seem to occur. I am still waiting for a sober epiphany.

Here are the link to those blogs:
http://sherdieinbrisvegas.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html
and
http://pantsofdeath.blogspot.com/2007/04/there-i-was-walking-to-shop-to-get.html

My friend’s blog talked about the “before” photo a girl at work had shown her. It had been taken by her gym with a view to the “after” photo being the taut, toned and terrific version of her. She told me about the flash of self-loathing she thought she saw in that girl’s eyes when showing the picture of the person she wanted to leave behind.

Her blog talked about the future self. The fabulous future self. The self that lives inside our head that has a photographic image of the shinier, non-procrastinating, socially graceful person we will one day be. Frankly, I can’t think I’ve anybody I’ve loved or liked who is anything like that future self. I love spending time with warm, funny people with tendencies towards swearing, drinking, and a love of carbohydrates. In fact if I met someone like that future self they’d probably bug, intimidate and bore the hell out of me. I like people a little rough around the edges. We all agreed in that drunken evening out that our present selves were pretty fucking awesome*.

Anyway, back to my epiphany I resolved to not go through the process of making mental checklists of the things in my life that I’m not happy with. To focus on what is good in my life and what I value in myself and other people. Oh crap, I think I just made a resolution!

* By the end of the evening our awesomeness had reached epic proportions that hopefully our future selves will be able to live up to.

It was worth the pain!

2008-01-09T02:31:00.000-08:00

I’ve been swimming lately. This is new for me. I had pretty much left swimming behind when I left school many other forms of exercise have come and gone but swimming was a hazy, distant memory. I’d been going to the local city council pool. A friendly place with only two roped off lanes and lots of people generally floating and splashing about. The man who takes my money is friendly, seems like someone who has probably worked there for a long time as I watch him chat to lots of people. It is a nice place to dip my toes back into the swimming pool so to speak.

Today though I decided to go to a swimming pool a little closer to home, a pool attached to one of the big private schools as I’d heard through the grapevine that it was heated. As I entered the venue I saw some vaguely familiar elite athletes leaving. As soon as I got in there and saw every lane roped off and squads racing up down the pool I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore….. I assessed the situation assuming that like the freeway there must be a slow lane allocated for the elderly and the people that haven’t swum for thirteen years. I headed for the lane next to a man who looked somewhere in his mid-eighties.

It was at about the half a kilometre mark that I saw two people get into my lane (that’s right my lane I was there first). This is cool I thought I can share my lane they can weave around me as I breaststroke slowly up down the lane and this is basically what happened…. Until that awkward moment when we were all sharing space on the little step at the end of the lane specifically designed for standing and catching your breath when the lady said to me “Are you going to be much longer?”

Well I’d actually done 700metres I was totally shagged, but it seemed like it would annoy this lady to have to continue to weave around me so I did another 200 metres just for her, the pain was worth it…… I think I’ll go back to the council pool next time…..

Through someone elses eyes

2008-01-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

It’s always enlightening and sometimes a bit confronting to get a glimpse of yourself through other people’s eyes.

A little while back I was at a lunch with a large group people, an assortment of kind-of friends who you kind-of hang out with and they kind-of know you and amongst them are some gems where the friendship may go to the next level but mostly it’s just a mish-mash of people who you’re sharing space with for know.

I was having a conversation with one of the girls there who I’ve actually known for a couple of years, she’d been having a pretty tough time we’d talked at length about it she’d cried on my shoulder. Anyway, in the way of setting the scene to get to my point (and the point is coming) in this group of kind-of friends she was someone who I thought knew me better than most. Then half way through our conversation she says to me “but everything comes so easily for you”.

It was the kind of statement where the fork stops half way to the mouth. The tip of the tongue response was “wow well the last thirty years would have gone a whole lot smoother if someone had sent me that FUCKING MEMO”. Naturally, this is not what I said. I tend to restrain tendencies toward sarcasm. I think it’s a combination of my mother’s voice in my head telling me to stop being facetious and never quite being sure how people will take it. And the friendship certainly hadn’t reached a level where it would survive a sarcastic response taken the wrong way. I think I may have enquired what gave her that impression… she said it was the calm aura I radiated (she’s into that kind of lingo)….

But it made me think… is that the image I project, everything comes easily to me, because I sure as hell know I struggle with lots of things including returning DVD’s and library books on time, swimming more than eight strokes of freestyle without sinking to the bottom of the pool or having to switch back to breast stroke, opening up to people before I’ve well and truly sussed them out, balancing all of the major food groups in a healthy and appropriate manner, purposely waiting around corners to avoid making small talk in corridors and hallways … well you get the point. And I’m pretty okay with all of these things (except maybe the DVD’s those fines really add up) but it interested me that we walk around with our own reality of how our lives are and other people’s versions of that life are so different to our own. Huh!

Santa Died for your Mastercard

2007-12-25T07:04:00.000-08:00

Earlier this week I saw an article about a man who erected a statue of a crucified Santa on his roof and handed out Christmas cards to his friends with the title “Santa died for your Mastercard” (http://www.ctv.ca/servlet/ArticleNews/story/CTVNews/20071223/santa_crucified_071223/20071223?hub=TopStories)
…. While I’m not one for such overt gestures of raging against the commercialism of Christmas I certainly appreciated the sentiment involved in this man’s personal Christmas mutiny. Perhaps it because I’ve spent a little too much time over the past few days in suburban shopping centres or perhaps it’s because my credit card is close to being maxed out that I was starting to feel like a grumpy sod. I guess on the continuum between fully fledged, carol-singing, Christmas loving people and someone that erects a crucified Santa outside their house I fall somewhere in the middle … there is just something about force fed saccharine Christmas cheer which makes me feel a kinship with the Santa crucifier. So I made a pact with myself to appreciate the real moments, the things that brought me Christmas cheer:

The smell of Frankincense! The smell of Frankincense is what I look forward to most in my annual “lapsed catholic” pilgrimage to church.
Having a champagne breakfast with the family that involved so much food and champagne that I was ready for a sleep by the time the relatives showed up.
My great-aunt announcing that she will be having her 90th birthday at McDonalds this year and upon being told this was not appropriate announced that seeing as she’s lived ninety years she’ll bloody well have her birthday party at McDonalds if she wants to!!! (she’s totally my favourite relative)
My sister and her husband in their own personal revolt against useless gifts and Christmas commercialism have organised a family excursion to the new Andy Warhol exhibition complete with tickets and promises of a fancy lunch on them… what an awesome present!
My hot new purple dress and fantastic red-wine coloured rug especially chosen to be resistant to red wine stains (I know this last one kind of goes against my whole anti-commercialism rant but schmeh …. I do like pretty things….)

Christmas presents for friends and family = $150
Ridiculous amounts of food = $100
Appreciating the good stuff = priceless
For everything else there is Mastercard*
* Okay I know this is cheesy as hell but I couldn’t resist

Mindfulness Tips for Dealing with Shopping Centre Car Parks at Christmas Time

2007-12-22T21:33:00.000-08:00

This year I’ve been learning about a technique called mindfulness, this has involved going to some classes and workshops and reading some books. So what is mindfulness? Well…. my take on it is that we have a tendency to get stuck in our heads which stops us from connecting with what’s happening in the present. It’s about observing when your having thoughts without judging them… there’s also breathing techniques and other stuff thrown in for good measure but it’s mostly about paying attention to the moment, observing your thoughts without being critical. This explanation does little justice to a thousand years old Buddhist approach to life.
Anyway, this is somewhat relaxing when you take the time to sit and do it but let’s face it it's not that easy when your frazzled, pissed off, or just generally busy doing things other than observing…. So I thought I would give an example of how I applied my newfound mindfulness skills to my shopping centre visit yesterday….

Mindfulness Tips for Dealing with Shopping Centre Car Parks at Christmas Time

1. Drive to shopping centre, notice that you are thinking you are an idiot for leaving your Christmas shopping to the last minute, don’t judge this thought or get caught up in the thought simply observe that you having the thought that you are an idiot…
2. Become aware of the sensation of hot air blasting on your skin from your “air conditioning” as sweat trickles down various parts of your body…
3. Think about that “DVD” you watched on “The Secret” (http://thesecret.tv/) and remember what a lot of bollocks you thought it was but decide to apply the “principle of attraction” to getting a good car park anyway….
4. Spend the rest of the trip visualizing self pulling into a car park next to one of the entrances 5. Pull into major shopping centre car park and start the hunt….. see a car pulling out of your dream car park, place indicator on….
6. Observe a feeling of smug exhilaration …. thank the universe and suddenly believe that “the principle of attraction” is not crap but your newfound guiding principle in life…
7. Observe someone else take your car-park…
8. Observe a feeling of rage and a desire to ram the fuck out of their car… observe how this rage feels in your body as you tense up and clench the steering wheel, breathe, allow the angry, angry thoughts to swirl in your head, observe them…
9. Spend fifteen minutes searching for another car park…. Observe the feelings of rage slowly subside noting that negative emotions are transient states….
10. Close eyes and extend peace, goodwill and loving kindness to all mankind except for the son-of-a-bitch who stole my car-park he can go to hell…..

Scratching an Itch

2007-12-20T16:46:00.000-08:00

So... hello there... is this how we greet each other in the blogosphere as you can tell I'm all very new to this. I've spent the past year lurking around the pages of a few good friends, some acquantances and lots of anonymous strangers and have become kind of fascinated with this form of "getting it out there", whatever "it" is .... it's given me food for thought, made me laugh, helped me get to know some people I know even better and been a bloody excellenct source of procastination.... it's also given me an itch

An itch... not a nasty, embarassing rash kind of itch but more of a slow burn that spreads across the body... a desire to write has come over me because I used to write all the time and not the kind of writing that requires logical arguments and pre-determined formats but random, creative writing... you know poetry, plays, journalling and the like.... I could just sit, get lost in it, enjoy it but nowadays I'm not feeling the love.... to the point where I'd rather do just about anything (and I mean anything!) than sit down at a computer and write.

So I'm not quite sure what my writing will consist of but I'm kind of excited to take that first step in finding out ... I'm imagining just a collection of my random thoughts and observations ... stuff that doesn't make it out of the mouth (and generally for good reason) but swirls around in the head and food there were definitely be a weekly post dedicated to food.....

Heres a link to a utube video that inspired the title of the blog "Following my own tracks" by The Whitlams: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S93lQ0YnZpg&feature=related

I feel inside out never thought i'd doubt my ability to work it all out
Going forward to fall back
Working hard to relax
I never thought that i would be following my own tracks
It's going 'round... It's going'round... It's going 'round

Well bye bye....