May the Fourth be with you

Long, long ago in a far, far away galaxy called my delinquent childhood, I wanted to be an outer space princess. My best friend’s dad took us to see the Star Wars fillum when it was first released at the beautiful State Theatre in Sydney. Most 70s movies were a complete cockfest but this movie had our feminist heroine Princess Leia fighting the blokes while rocking a Grecian gown and sporting hair donuts that all of us gals copied immediately for school the following week. Now when I am exhausted and my children are screaming at each other I mutter, ‘Help me Obi Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.” May the force be with you…..


Like a King

“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, What are you doing for others?”
Martin Luther King, Jr.


Blatant vulgar sexual frenzy

In his Presley obituary, Lester Bangs, credited Elvis as “the man who brought overt blatant vulgar sexual frenzy to the popular arts in America.”

Elvis would have been 79 today. This is my favourite Elvis song. I love the backing vocals and the lyrics. And his jumpsuit, how can anyone not love Elvis’ outfits?


Sleep in heavenly peace

Of course Santa is having a happy Christmas, he knows where all the naughty people live and he gets to party with them. I hope when Santa drops down my chimney that he is good looking and he finds out I’ve been naughty and my children have been nice. Merry Christmas, here come the reindeer.


I promised I would write about him some day

A brilliant story

onethousandsingledays's avatar

I decided I would walk back to my Hotel that day, even though I had spent all day and most of my money shopping and my shoulders were aching from the weight of the bags. Flagging down a tuk-tuk would made the trip quick and easy and with the unbearable heat rising up from the sidewalk and bouncing off the city walls and radiating down from above it is a wonder I chose to walk that day but at the time I decided that I would like to wander through the alley ways and stalls and nod my head in greeting to the people of Sukhumvit Road and thats all it was at the time. But it is only in retrospect that we see the significance of seemingly small decisions such as these. We don’t realise how our preferences, no matter how small, act as the fingers and the palms and…

View original post 2,081 more words


All Hallows Eve

The veil between our realm and the spirit world is very thin tonight. So we can all dress up like ghouls and blow a kiss to our ancestors.

I think children like to be scared a little in childhood to help them learn to manage their fears and develop the strength they will need in adulthood. My youngest daughter loves cemeteries like me. We often wander through our local grave yard talking about the families buried there and how children her age frequently died 150 years ago. We’ll go trick or treating in the same street as our local cemetery. Call me crazy, but I’ll be looking out for signs from my dad tonight. I think he may drop by.


I am a teenage dirtbag, aren’t I?

Happy birthday to me. Kooky single mother clown comedy writer. Please give generously or small children may go without food, and my poor, long-suffering teenager may grow up deprived of designer clothes and shoes. Apparently I’m supposed to starve to pay for everything.


Maybe we’ll grow

Joyeux anniversaire a mon cher ami


undead

One of my friends said,
“You have a morbid fascination with death. You have so many stories of death and people close to you dying.” Actually he said, “You are the angel of death,” but I don’t fear death and I don’t think it’s morbid. I work in hospitals with kids who may die and observing parents coping with their worst fear strengthens my gratitude for my three healthy kids. Life and death walk hand in hand, two sides of the same coin, my fascination with death is a part of living well. And I know I will be old and ready for it when my time comes. I’ve got too much to do in this life to die young.

I love cemeteries, I could walk in them for hours looking at the headstones and wondering how people lived. I’m lucky I live right near one of the most beautiful cemeteries in Sydney. I love old graves. Walking around reading the inscriptions I’m reminded as a mother that only a hundred years ago mothers lived with the ever present thought that they should have lots of children as many little kids under five didn’t survive.

My dad’s been dead for 11 years and I’m certain he’s around me all the time.

beautiful cemetery

beautiful cemetery


He hasn’t really left the building

The King died today in 1977. I loved his look, his white jumpsuits, his hair, his sneer, his pelvis, his fetish for deep-fried peanut butter sandwiches and his music. He may well have been my ideal man. His golden voice lives on forever in the drama of his high camp songs. I love you Elvis.