Stream of consciousness blog posts late on a Friday night after a trying week and two glasses of wine is a very dumb idea. But I have a bit of writer’s block on top of everything else that’s going on in my head and I feel like I just need to pour some stuff out in order to clear some space. So here we go…
We’ve been unaccountably disconnected from our NBN. This is an annoyance, but when no one can explain why this disconnection happened and when day after day no one turns up to plug us back in despite our daily phone calls and put-on-holds and pleadings, I am prone to a bit of GOING-OFF-MY-ROCKER, which is what I will do if someone fobs me off with, “it’ll be tomorrow” AbloodyGain. But what annoys me about it more than anything else is that I feel so, well, disconnected. For fuck’s sake, most of my life was spent without the World Wide fucking Web and I should go tadpoling and set up a sundial. (PS I’m posting this by using my smart phone hotspot, which uses data that I don’t have, so there’s going to be more fun and games when that bill arrives).
That horrible thing that happened in the sand-dunes to those two women is just haunting me to tears (literally). Thank goodness they got away from that madman but who knows what nightmares they have to live with now. Oh MEN, there are monsters among you. I know not all of you are bad but you good ones have to live with being generalised because it’s members of your sex that are most likely to commit these horrific acts, and for our own safety we women have to be wary of every last one of you. I know it sounds extreme but it’s true. Only last year I and two of my girl-friends sat on a rent-a-car shuttle bus to Melbourne airport with a bunch of men on some wanky bloke’s trip. One of them made a sexual remark about us while the others all laughed. I wanted to punch that knobhead in the cakehole but I’m not brave enough, and they were stronger than me, in greater numbers. And I just wanted to get out of there. My friends and I didn’t talk about it, because that kind of shit happens all the time and really it’s not remarkable. But it should be. Civility and courtesy and respect should be the things that are commonplace and unremarkable.
I ate a dairy free brownie the other day and it was the best thing I’ve eaten since I discovered I’m allergic to dairy. THE BEST. I’ll be having another one fairly soon I reckon and to hell with the sugar free thing. I might fall in a tadpole pond or get murdered in the sand dunes tomorrow and denied myself jubes for nothing.
My children seem to be having a phase of being unable to amuse themselves. If they’re not entertained by me, eating, playing with friends, watching telly, looking at their i-pads or sleeping, they are doing one of two things – bickering or pestering. Whatever happened to imagination? This deeply disappoints me. Is imagination something I should have taught them earlier on? Isn’t that counterintuitive to the whole idea of imagination? Should I be leaving them to their own devices more? Until they give up on the telly and the fighting and go and invent something or build a cubby or cut all their hair off? At least cutting their hair off shows glimpses of creativity. Advice please.
I dreamed I was breastfeeding my baby. Then I woke up and wished I could breastfeed again, just for a bit. My boobs even felt all let-downy and weird. I loved breastfeeding. I know, want my babies back, which they’d grown the fuck up. Never happy.
Martika is coming to Hobart!! I Feel The Earth Move Martika!!! I’m not usually the exclamation mark type but when Martika’s coming to town I feel they are warranted!!!!! Along with Berlin (Take My Breath Away from Top Gun), Limahl (he was that funny looking dude who sang Never Ending Story), Katrina from Katrina and the Waves, Stacy Q (2 of Hearts, Summer 87 – a true classic) and Wa Wa Nee. I’m sooooo not missing this throw back to my youth. My best friend and I made up a dance routine to Martika in my bedroom in about 1988, and I learnt all the words to Toy Soldiers (written by Prince by the way) and dreamed about singing it on Bert Newton’s New Faces. I can’t wait – July 22nd people. The only thing missing is Tiffany.
That’s it for the moment, I feel a bit clearer already. Thanks for listening. x