Memento infantia
Posted: April 15, 2018 Filed under: LOVE, Parenting, Single Motherhood | Tags: childhood memories, cleaning out my closet, housework, magical memories, raising teens, shopping maul, single mother struggles, Single motherhood, single mothering challenges, Teenagers, walk on wardrobe, youngest child Leave a commentThere comes a weekend in every mother’s life when we have to put on bad music, trample on the walk on wardrobe AKA floor-drobe, cough our way through crusty bits of rubbish and throw out the last remaining bits and bobs of our offsprings’ childhood. That weekend has come for me. There will be no more Hello Kitty pencils, no more craft that comes home saying I luv u mummmy and no more genuine joy at seeing me at the school gate.
I am emptying the unfinished projects into the bin and opening old One Direction pencil cases and finding handwritten notes from their friends. These painstakingly produced jottings were all written at the age when my kids were discovering the magic of writing a heartfelt letter to a beautiful new friend:
Dear Senny, I thik youre really specil and I reallly lik your shoos. I had funn wen we went to the pak and i now we wil be freinds forever. lov you
I’ve been a single mum for 10 years, so there are many jobs in my house that are being tackled well past their use by date. Despite our multiple moves, some special stuff was placed in boxes and carted from new address to new address. The perfectly unused birthday present textas from the seven-year old’s best friend in the hole world that were saved in the back of the cupboard for special occasions have been dug out, the lolly wrappers that she didn’t want mummy to see, beside the half-dressed dolls with real nail polish on their hands. I put together a box of nostalgia, thinking that my last teenager would be remotely interested in the lost cuteness and innocence of her childhood. She came home from a day out at the hideous local shopping trauma centre and said,
“That’s my stuff, what are you doing?”
“Cleaning.”
“Don’t.”
“We need to chuck out.”
“No, I’m too busy.”
A few short weeks ago she sobbed because the Easter Bunny hadn’t left her an elaborate trail of eggs in our shared yard on Easter Sunday. But now she’s watching make up tutorials on how to copy the subtle facial contouring of the Kardashians on Youtube. She actually wants to look like a Jenner. I’ve failed as a mother. What the hell will I keep from this phase?
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The blind leading the blind
Posted: April 8, 2018 Filed under: FEMINISM, Self improvement | Tags: feminism, how not to be a jerk, how to create mastery, life coaching, life mastery, mansplaining, me too, Me Too Movement, personal growth, Self improvement, single mother tips, success coaches, the tony robbins experience, tony robbins, unleash the power Leave a commentPosition vacant:
Power up ladies. This is a life-changing opportunity that few will have the mastery to grasp. Tony Robbins, yes, the over-charging self-appointed self-help guru urgently requires an authentic life coach slash disruptor to transform his mind. Preferably a strong female who can resist bullies. The successful applicant will have years of work ahead of her, bashing through the scripted bullshit.
Here’s an incredibly detailed summary of the top coaching modules Tony really needs. Any takers?
Lesson 1: Deep listening, and more listening and hopefully his new coach will throw in some listening skills as a bonus
Lesson 2: Finding friends who aren’t jerks
Lesson 3: Mansplaining 101
Lesson 4: How not to physically intimidate women
Lesson 5: Male entitlement
Lesson 6: Practising what you preach
Lesson 7: Why obsessing over your appearance gets in the way of your sincerity
Hopefully, Tony is a keen learner and will realise this is his date with destiny, that he can create massive humility in his life. Tony’s success coach may be able to help Tony condition his mind in how not to be a complete knob. My thoughts and prayers are with Tony as he embarks on his quest for self-improvement; if all goes well, his new lifestyle guru will keep him busy for a long time.
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It’s Just Not Cricket
Posted: April 1, 2018 Filed under: AUSTRALIA | Tags: auspol, bring them here, compassion, cricket, crying cricketers, government policies, Jesus, refugees, refugees welcome, single mother worries, tampering with people's lives, the twelfth man Leave a commentHappy Easter, Passover, festival of chocolate scoffing frenzy, four days off work.
I spent a large chunk of my childhood being forced to go to church and listen to sermons by elderly white male ministers. On Easter Sunday I thought I’d write my own Easter sermon.
The Urban dictionary definition of It’s Just Not Cricket is:
Australian Slang – Having something that is unjust or just plain wrong done to someone or something. This comes from the game of cricket which is regarded as a gentlemen’s game where fair play was paramount.
NOT CRICKET:
The Australian government is locking up children in detention centres for years but our country is crying about cricket. What have we become? I don’t believe it is our government’s right to tamper with the lives of refugees, to make them wait for years to be processed, for Dutton to refuse to send some of them to New Zealand. Economically, it doesn’t make sense. We could bring all the refugees here and save millions of dollars every year.
Passover commemorates the liberation of the Israelites, why can’t we as Australians band together and liberate some refugees?
NOT CRICKET:
Women dying of domestic violence at a rate of 1-2 per week
Uluru Statement ignored
An abuser is still in the White House
Genocide in Myanmar
But a bit of sandpaper on a ball is what makes us enraged.
This Easter, I think Jesus would be worried more about feeding homeless people than the 12th man.
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Addicted
Posted: March 25, 2018 Filed under: Self improvement, Thought For the Day | Tags: big brother, Cambridge Analytica, conspiracy theories, data mining, delete Facebook, Facebook, irony, Mark Zuckerberg, mind control, online addictions, single mother advice, social media Leave a commentThis week we learned that we must no longer go online because bad people will steal our identities, our children will turn into Minecraft addicted zombie bots (too late) and we’ll all start speaking Russian and worshipping Putin.
This is a blog post about why you shouldn’t be reading my blog online because your health will suffer. It is harmful to be on the Internet. Please direct lots of people here and make a habit of visiting my site because it will help my stats, but don’t become dependent. It will be your fault dear readers if you give me insomnia while I stay up all night dealing with all the comments and emails and awkward conversations that your online obsession provokes. You’ll be fine on my blog, but don’t visit any other websites, and please make sure you don’t tell Cambridge Analytica that you have been reading this post. And don’t comment with the F word or Mark Zuckerberg’s lawyers will come to your house late at night and steal your thoughts.
Isn’t our world moronic? Don’t you think?
This post has been brought to you by the Alanis Morrissette school of irony and Instagram influencer mothers posting photos of their kids playing #devicefree and #technologyfree while those mothers profit from these same kids’ lives on social media.
#irony
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Put it in mothballs
Posted: March 18, 2018 Filed under: LOVE, Self improvement | Tags: artists, botox, Charles Bukowski, fillers, inspired thought leaders, Jack Kerouac, motivational speakers, plastic surgeons gone mad, shabby messy people, shambolic mess, single mother advice, single mother motivational experts, single mothers with attitude, sloths Leave a commentAutumn winds make me extra allergic to the online world of success coaches with glow in the dark teeth, perky personal fitspo gurus with Instagram famous bodies and shiny women with trout pout lips on an endless loop on Youtube. A generation of children are growing up with mothers who’ve had so much Botox put into their faces that these women cannot express the full gamut of human emotion on their dials. These zombie women scare me but I can’t stop staring, wondering when the fillers will stop working.
Then I get scratchy when I hear the words mastery, motivation, personal best, inspire, disrupt. Show me the leaders in lethargy, excellent examples of ennui, successful sloths, wonderful worriers. These are my people. To mangle Kerouac: the only ones for me are the crazies, the Bukowski drunks, the shabby, the borderline criminals, the drop outs, the dribblers, those grungy, suffering, unshaven cats who get thrown out of the best parties, the ones who always yawn out loud, the rambling, boisterous messes who convey every sloppy human emotion on their cracking apart faces. These are the people who make me feel good about myself, as I hide away at home reading, not wanting to face the world or climb any ladders.
Growing up into a cranky old cat lady, I’m pondering the autumn and winter of my life with a countenance that moves. As I slip under the radar with a face that loses its sheen every day, I think I like my mangy self best.
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Art or Competition?
Posted: March 11, 2018 Filed under: ART, WRITERS, WRITING | Tags: acting, ART, artists, competitive theatre, hip hop, Hustle & Flow Bar Redfern, live DJ, luvvy actors, performance, players, Shakespeare vs hip hop, single mother artists, spoken word, The Leftovers Collective, Theatre, verse, William Shakespeare 1 CommentToday I am indulging my combined love of the bard’s verse and hip hop by competing / performing / appearing in Shakespeare Dance Party, a sharp new show presented by The Leftovers Collective. Fancy.
In a small bar in Redfern, 16 actors will compete for our audience’s love to see who best performs a short Shakespearean sonnet or monologue. Each performer will slam to a beat laid down by a live DJ, not knowing in advance which track will be chosen for them. If the audience likes the art, they will dance. If the audience dislikes the performance, pies will be thrown. The eventual winner receives a part in a web series. The losers need to bring a towel.
In an era of social media starlets, where few skills are needed to become a YouTube star, are actors necessary?
16 tracks
16 artists
A rap roulette
“All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”
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40 sparkling years
Posted: March 3, 2018 Filed under: LOVE | Tags: 40 years of Mardi Gras in Sydney, equal rights, Gay Christmas, Gayliberation, history, LGBTQIA, love, love is love, love wins, rainbow families, SOLIDARITY, Sydney, Sydney Mardi Gras, Sydney Mardi Gras 1978, what is remembered lives, YOU THINK YOU'RE A MAN (but you're only a boy) DIVINE Leave a commentHere’s to the magnificent 78’ers, those brave souls who stood up for their rights and tonight celebrate 40 years of Sydney Mardi Gras. These civil rights champions were brutally bashed, arrested, taunted and harassed and still they marched for their friends, for the freedom to be their magnificent selves, for equality, for ‘the love that dare not speak its name.’ Thank you to the warriors who fought for the freedom to love freely and to be equal citizens. Rainbow beauties I salute your courage. Your selfless actions made Sydney a more fun, more colourful and more inclusive place. I can’t imagine dancing on Oxford Street in 1983 without you.
As I hope for glitter not blood on the streets tonight, I’m shedding a few tears for the beautiful loved ones we lost when AIDS ripped through our lives in the 80s and 90s. I know tonight they will be there in spirit. I’m also thinking of the people who work so hard for Bobby Goldsmith and ACON and my friends decorating floats. Party on beauties. I feel nothing but love and pride when I see you shining.
Divine – You Think You’re A Man
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Beetroot stains
Posted: February 18, 2018 Filed under: AUSTRALIA, Self improvement | Tags: auspol, Aussie lingo, Australian politicians, Australian Politics, Barnaby Joyce, Beetrooter, Machine Gun Fellatio - Pussytown, pale stale male Australian politicians, Political hypocrisy, political rorts, Rootgate, Strine Leave a commentIt’s been a bloody grouse week for those of us who speak fluent Strine. We’ve had ripper new words and phrases added to our lingo:
Rejoyce – lying to your constituents then getting re-elected
Beetrooter – older white male who preys on young female work mates
Beetrorter – doing dodgy deals to ensure a parliamentary pension
Fang a Canavan* – protecting your mates despite their ability to act like a dickhead
Go Full Barnaby – chucking a sickie when the top job awaits
Ucken Joyce mate – to flick your wife and kids with no wucken furries
Chuck a Vikki – to root someone whom even Stevie Wonder would find fuggly
*See also nepotism & cronyism
Machine Gun Fellatio – Pussytown
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Dogstagram
Posted: February 11, 2018 Filed under: exercise, LOVE, Self improvement | Tags: cats of Instagram, cats on social media, cats with attitude, catstagram, co-parenting with cats, dogs on social media, Dogs on YouTube, Dogsofinstagram, Facebook, Instagram, love, pets, pets on social media, YouTube videos of cats Leave a commentThis week a friend who is not a fan of social media asked me: Why do cute pooches and pussy cats have more social media followers than most humans?
Why? Because we love them. Pooches believe in unconditional love. Aspirational humans do not. Cats have attitude and don’t give a shit. I love dogs of Instagram because dogs are pretty. Dogs on insta don’t have bad plastic surgery, fake boobs and plastic nails. They’re not going to take cheesy selfies with trout pouts at monasteries and mosques. Dogs don’t take photos of themselves doing cartwheels at sacred sites. Dogs don’t pretend to be social media experts, they’re not trying to improve our lives, help us reach unattainable goals, sell us products or help their owners train to be ultra fit marathon runners and brag about it. Dogs just are. I love dogs.
Cats aren’t trying to marry football players, flog baby clothes or inspire us to upgrade to a better lifestyle. Cats hiss and bite when they’re pissed off. Cats are cool.
But I do wish dog owners would post more photos of mutts with fleas, mange and weeping eyes. Cat owners could oblige by sharing their scratch and sniff cat pee in the corner of the living room snaps more often too.
I’ll keep this rant short, my cat needs to meet up with her personal trainer.
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Growing old disgracefully
Posted: February 4, 2018 Filed under: Self improvement | Tags: 50th birthday, ageing, disruptor, friends, growing old, how old am I?, influencer, inspo, life, life goals, love, Right Said Fred - I`m Too Sexy, satire, self love, single mother advice, single mother aspirations, single mother goals, wine 1 CommentMy oldest childhood friend is about to turn 50 and realising I have elderly friends has made me think about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. Middle age can be about making time for personal growth and wondering what sort of human you want to become in the second half of your life. Once my kids have moved out of home, I want to inspire people, live well and have fun, so when I grow up, hopefully I’ll still be young enough to:
Care about my fellow humans like Sam Newman
Be open-hearted like Prune Macsween
Dance like Peter Garrett
Have the compassion of Miranda (Not Really) Devine
Pop pills like Ben Cousins
Manage my hair like Donald Trump
Tolerate people like Peter Dutton
Possess the humility of Malcolm Turnbull
Be open-minded like Andrew Blot
Be submissive like Eddie Maguire
Be as sexy as Bronwyn Bishop
What’s on your life goals bucket list?
I’m Too Sexy – Right Said Fred
loupollard 