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Tuesday Jan 31, 2006

I was speaking with my father tonight and we were talking about what a year 2005 was.

It was a very hard year for my family.

After 10 years my father and stepmother ended their relationship.

My mother moved to literally the other side of Australia.

And my grandfather died.

My father nursed my grandad for months before his death and he has handled this year far better than I think I did.

I still believe that this year was for me to experience all of this, as the main ‘objective’, rather than to learn.

If the learning comes with it then that can only be a good thing.

Even the experiencing sucked.

I did not handle grief well. I did not like my mother moving away. I hated living by myself after sharing a house with my best friend for a couple of years. I fell apart at the funeral. I ended a relationship with my best friend and lover of 12 months. I worked too hard. I worked for an egomaniac nepotistic wanker. I completed a major project on my own and frequently did 80 hour weeks.

But, the good stuff?

I grew so much closer to my family this year. I have an amazing boss and job. I love living by myself. I probably see my mother more now. I realise the relationship ended for a very good reason. I grieved and it got better.

I discovered the beauty of Brazilian waxes, air conditioned apartments, shorter hair, high heels, guilt free friends with benefits schemes, drinking beers on Friday after work, cocktails on Sunday afternoons, Isabel Alende, Douglas Copeland, sleeping, and enjoying being a single 24 year old living in Sydney.

So after 2005 I’m looking forward to 2006.

drawing back the curtain.

Friday Jan 27, 2006

While reading Boyspoke I decided that girls should also be unveiled a little.

(Bearing in mind this is really about me, if it applies to other girls then well done me)

1. We cannot help being absolute uber bitches from hell each month. Literally. Having PMS is like being an emotional, just dumped, angsty teen and you know that that bile coming from your mouth is irrational and unreasonable, and hell, not even logical. Yet we can’t help it, we are hormonal and we are evil. Although there is Nurofen to take away the physical pain, there is nothing for the PMS invoked hormone rage.

2. We (I) really don’t mind when you hang out with the boys. In fact I love it and encourage it. You get to see your friends-this makes you happy. I get to do whatever the hell I like-this makes me happy. Plus you come home squiffily drunk and adorable and I get to take advantage of you.

3. We like men being polite and showing their good manners their mothers (and fathers) taught them. As previously noted I consider myself a feminist. But a man holding open a door for me? A man seeing my struggling carrying something heavy and offering his help? A man walking in between myself and the road when we’re out? A protective guiding hand on the small of my back when we’re out? They’re manners people, not oppression, and I love the hell out of it. Please do not stop doing these in response to a minority of shrieking harpies (I love that word).

4. We like sex just as much as men. If this surprises you, that surprises me. Women have sex drives. We have fantasies. We meet you and will be thinking of what you’re like in bed. We enjoy giving and receiving. We love it. Do not be surprised. And for the love of fuck, do not see this as a woman being “slutty” or “easy”.

5. We (Read=me) are happy for you to look at other women. No really, don’t look sceptical. If you give me reason to doubt my trust in you that you have/ will go from looking to touching? Then we will have problems. But checking out a girl in a bikini at the beach? Knock yourself out. Looking at a girl who has fantastic breasts? Yes she totally does. If I see a man who is gorgeous I will be looking at him. Making you stop doing the same is bullshit, so go right ahead.

6. We (I) do not care how much you earn or what car you drive. I do not expect you to pick up the tab each and every time. I do not expect you to pay my rent/bills. I do not expect or want you to maintain me. I love you for you. Not what colour your AMEX is or if you even have one. In fact bragging about what you make? Really fucking tacky.

7. We do not like it when strange men in clubs and pubs walk by and grab our arses. At all. If we wanted that we would no doubt ask you to first. Until we do fuck off.

8. We may be career driven ambitious ball breaking women but we are still women. Do not be intimidated by this. We are just as fragile and soft as the pastel wearing twin set wearing girlie girls. We are not a threat to you manhood. We just speak up a little better than said twin set girls. We like you being men and us being women.

9. We get the geek/sportsman/PS2 playing part of you. We like you. We may not like
sport or care for watching 12 hours of cricket with you but then we like shopping and you (generally) do not. We get the differences and we like ‘em. (Although if you’re playing Super Mario I will totally spend 12 hours playing with you)

10. I (I’ve given up on the We, this is all about me) do not like the buffed, tanned, V hipped men. In fact I have to confess 6 packs scare me, I do not find them attractive at all. We like you skinny, scrawny, big, podgy, average, pale, tanned whatever. We just like you just as much as you like women. I will not care if you are 5-10 kilos over/under weight. I do not care if you cannot bench press 50 kilograms. I do not care if you drive a Hyundai Excel, versus a (I don’t know cars so just insert fast/masculine type car model here). We just like you just the way you are.

Have I forgotten anything?

self indulgent

Thursday Jan 26, 2006

My musical taste seems to have been frozen in time.

I have two types of favourite music.

That which I discovered in my teens.

And the music my parents brought me up on.

The teen music is all about the grunge and the indie pop.

I adore the Pixies, I cry along to The Smiths, I fall off my treadmill to Jane’s Addiction (again, seriously), I dance retardedly to Blink 182, I smile along to Ash and the Lemonheads and I love me some Nirvana

Then there is David Bowie, the Beatles, Procol Harum, Billy Bragg, The Kinks, Led Zeppelin a bit of Floyd, The Pretenders and Blondie.

My two favourite songs of all time are “Whiter Shade of Pale” by Procol Harum and Punk Boy by Ash.

As I write this I’m listening to the Boom Town Rats “I Don’t Like Mondays”.

There’s absolutely no point to this post, purely self indulgent after a lunchtime of beers and backyard cricket in the pub (I love the Sydney’s Inner West).

Hope you’re having a great Australia Day.


Wednesday Jan 25, 2006

One of my work colleagues came with me on the weekend’s work trip.

He’s one of the people I’m closest with at work.

He’s a health nut; he goes to gym 7 days a week and is a bigger food nazi than all of the dieting work girls combined.

His ideal woman, pointing examples out, is a small size 6.

And during drinks on Friday night he brought up my weight.

It wasn’t offensive and it didn’t upset me.

It did take me aback though.

Let me give you some background.

M. is very fit, has a 6 pack, has guns like Ron Burgundy, waxes his legs (apparently he cycles) and does 200 sit up’s a day. He’s very much into health and finds the “ideal” male physique his goal.

His perfect woman (and seeing his girlfriend) is a small size 6, blonde, tanned, blue eyed personal instructor.

I, on the other hand, (sorry, that made me giggle), smoke, love a glass of wine, exercise only by way of a treadmill and am a good size 14.

I don’t think he knows quite how to deal with me.

His comments were along the line of,

”Have you always been this size?”
– “I worry about your health”

I think what bothered me wasn’t the weight (like previous posts I’m happy with my lot) but that the line of conversation seemed obtrusive and……tacky?

I don’t see it as my position to questions someones – looks, lifestyle, sex life, the car they drive, who they love, what they eat etc etc.

It’s none of my business.

I think just because it’s not to your taste or what you would do doesn’t give you a free pass to judge.

So I explained yes I have always been this “size”, thank you for your concern but (as he knows) I eat well and I exercise and I’m very happy with how I look, thank you very much.

I think it was either that or “take your unhealthy waif’s and jam it.”

I think I chose the right response.

the travel

Monday Jan 23, 2006

I flew home from Queensland yesterday after working at our Brisbane site since Thursday night.

It’s been a long few days and I’m glad to be home.

But I have to confess I love staying in hotels.

Especially when work is paying for them.

A 12 hour day Friday, a 14 hour day Thursday and a few hours Sunday morning before the flight home means overtime, which means shoes.

The tech on site who helped us with the switch upgrade had a beard.

I love a man with a beard.

I have no idea where it comes from but they’re a weakness.

In fact big guys with beards. The ex is 6 foot 3 and grows a beard during winter and it was delicious.

I loved the fact he could lift me up and throw me over his shoulder.


left wing femininist rant

Monday Jan 23, 2006

While reading Steph’s post about feminism and what it means to her I got a little excited. I love it when people appreciate the awesomeness of our choices.

*Deep breathe*

I’m a feminist and I have no problem with that.

I hate that so many young women see feminism as a dirty word. That they feel it’s no longer applicable or relevant to us as we have so many choices and options available to us today. I admit, you can get lazy when you haven’t had to fight and work hard for every right and privilege in your life.

I could only listen and imagine what it was like when I heard my grandfather’s stories of being in World War Two. Only knowing for sure that he was never the same after what he went through and that I don’t ever want to see the men in my life have to go and fight. That he went through that so his country, children, wife and grandchildren could live in a safer world.

That we can vote for whomever we choose to regardless of gender or race as very courageous people before us fought for that basic right.

But the choices we have today and the opportunities we have came about by people just like us who were forward thinking and brave and the complacency and ignorance of those risky fights makes me angry.

Prior to the Marriage Act of 1975 a husband could rape his wife without any legal discourse.

Think about that. A man was breaking no laws and was not punished if he forced his wife into sex.

Most of our parents were married and lived with that law.

That one of the origins of the phrase “Rule of Thumb” was that a man could beat his wife with a stick/pole/whatever as long as it was no thicker than his thumb.

That until the 70’s having a termination or being on birth control was illegal, regardless of your circumstances.

That until 1962 Australian Aboriginal people were not allowed to vote and have their opinions heard.

We are so very, very lucky to now have legislation that protects us physically, financially and to a degree emotionally.

My grandmother was so very proud when I was accepted to study law, because it wasn’t an option for her. That I’m an independent, career driven, happy young woman who can literally choose what I want to do. And this from a woman who was in the Navy in World War Two and at times single-handedly raised 4 children on a single income while working full time.

So if you’re a young woman, older woman, student, young mother, house wife, career woman, a lady who lunches, a wife, a mother we should all be very thankful.

Because our mother’s and grandmother’s weren’t as lucky as us, in many aspects, and we need to ensure that the privileges we have today, to choose our directions and lives will be available to our daughters and granddaughters.

*Rant over*

good times

Wednesday Jan 18, 2006

There are some day’s when I wonder what my parent’s were thinking when they raised me.

Today I –

– Fell off my treadmill in the most ungainly and grace-less fashion I think I’ve ever seen. I was jogging along, singing along to Elastica and started dancing a little. Cue me getting the death wobbles, hitting the side of the treadmill and ending up in a heap at the end of the treadmill, while the runner thing gave me a decent burn on my arse as I lay stunned.

Good times.

– I got my eyebrows waxed and because I’m not good with things near my eyes (especially hot wax on a stick) I blinked as she was applying it. Hence why I’m missing a huge amount of eyelashes now.

Painful good times.

– And I managed to walk into a door that I walk through multiple times a day because I forgot to swipe my security card and literally walked face first into it. As a result I bruised my knuckles (they’re literally black and blue) and knees and have a bump on my head.


So in total I have a friction burn on my arse (with none of the fun that normally comes with carpet burns, half of my eyelashes and I’m bruised and bumped all over.

At least my eyebrow’s look good though.


Sunday Jan 15, 2006


This is a reason why I shouldn’t shop so much.

Actually that’s a total lie.

I bought a bambi necklace and I love it.

My father and step-mother have broken up and I spent this weekend helping my Dad move.

I am tremendously sore and am currently shuffling around my apartment like an old man, muttering, Oi vey.

It’s a good thing, him moving out. My father spent the first 3 months of this year nursing my grandfather. He died in March and the day we drove back from the funeral, which was the most gut wrenchingly heart breaking service, the step-mother started a fight and said, “You know how you feel stressed right now? I feel that stress everyday.”

She is not my favourite person.

But I caught up with my best friend who still lives near my father and her deliciously adorable baby daughter who has been bestowed with the nickname of Lolita Lapita. If I didn’t know myself better I’d say I got a little clucky, she stayed in my lap during breakfast and cooed and giggled and talked to me all the way through. I didn’t realise it was possible to love her almost as much as I love her mother.

Plus M is totally Mormon so Lapita is going to need Aunt Lucy to corrupt her when she gets older.

I get to fly up to the QLD next weekend to do a switch upgrade. I would like my weekends back, but getting experience in the data side of comms and learning something outside of managing voice network’s is cool.

All up good weekend, despite the aching bones.


Thursday Jan 12, 2006

The best end to a day.

Freshly out of the shower.

Wearing nothing but Bonds singlet and underwear.

Air conditioned cool bedroom.

Freshly washed hair smelling like my new vanilla and frangipani shampoo (it’s almost edible)

Listening to Sunday Girl by Blondie.

Somehow missing out on Lucy’s First Strip Club Visit doesn’t seem all that bad.


Thursday Jan 12, 2006

Tomorrow night, rather than taking Seb, an old friend of mine, to a strip club (don’t ask), I get to travel for a couple of hours and then help a friend of mine move.

Mind you it’s the middle of summer and there is an uber amount of heavy bloody furniture that needs to be moved. So hot! And heavy! And not the good kind!

Good times.

As we speak Seb is at home crying like the baby Jesus and I’m putting together moving outfit’s.

I will be wearing practical clothes but damn it I will match!

Last night though was drinks. I discovered I’m a cheap drunk.

After a grand total of 3 glasses of wine that I was pleasantly and delightfully sloshed.

Being a cheap drunk has many advantages, including spending minimal amounts for maximum effects, I’m always* home before midnight because I’m done by 10, I’m low maintenance if you’re taking me out, I’m up for fooling around after only an hour or so (can’t think why I’m still single with that one:)) and frankly I’m far funnier after a few gin and tonics.

All up, a positive thing.

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