%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
Bare and uncensored personal expression. Beware!!! |
|
** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** "This is pretty much what journals are all about, at least to me. I knew as I wrote them that even though they provided an excellent place for brain (and heart, and psyche) dump, they were mainly a map of me." --- Colleen Wainwright "Writing gives you the illusion of control, and then you realize it's just an illusion, that people are going to bring their own stuff into it." --- David Sedaris "Please write again soon. Though my own life is filled with activity, letters encourage momentary escape into others lives and I come back to my own with greater contentment." --- Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey "In giving of myself onto these pages every day I allow myself to write regardless of the depth and meaning. I share myself with others without fear of recrimination for these are my thoughts, my feelings and my very being, and there are non who's opinion of me matters more than my own." --- Rebecca Laffar-Smith   The Writer's Round-About |
| I did something I don't usually do today. I actually watched the news. Sometimes I watch the weather but today I listened beyond tomorrows forecast for the news stories. I have no idea what prompted me to do that but I was suprised that there were some interesting stories that got me thinking. One that struck a few cords with me related to childrens clothing and the advertising associated with products kids will use. Personally I'd noticed how skimpy and indecent some of the clothing for girls had become. I have a six year old daughter and when I was buying her first bathing suit a few years ago I was shocked to find BIKINI'S, for TWO-YEAR-OLDS!! Never mind the fact that at two years old they have nothing to hold the bits of string up but seriously, what message are we sending our kids when we dress them in that sort of thing? Where is their respect for their body? Their right to have an intimate relationship with themself? Their personal boundaries? I go into the shop and find black mini-mini-skirts, midrifts shirts, backless tanks, boobtubes, make up accessories, high heel shoes, and g-strings for kids who are in primary school. I can't understand who would let their kids dress in these sorts of things. Why are we making our children sex objects? It's bad enough that teenagers feel that sort of pressure but it seems like advertisers and peer pressure are striking younger and younger 'consumers'. Thankfully school uniforms are the norm in my daughters school and the uniforms of her school are sedate. They are comfortable and easy and the uniformity helps her feel a part of her class. At this age kids notice being different and feel uncomfortable about it which is perhaps a sign of the power peer groups have. It makes me wonder if our search for acceptence is something we are born with and never lose. I think the real issue is that media represents the what the people want. Or perhaps more accurately they create it. Fashion magazines tend to set the trends and strangely enough conformity works in a warped way. The 'perfect' form of women that are splashed across these magazines give men, women, and children an unobtainable goal. Men expect these kinds of women to be available and women replicate the image because it feels like the only way to attract men and children grow up with all this. It all spirals out of control because clothing is getting skimpier, women skinnier, and sex sells. The news focused on one of the most alarming facts of this new trend towards children wearing clothing that advertises their growing bodies. It made me think about rape and the arguements that seem to frequently come up that relate to the way a woman acted or dressed, 'asked for it'. If our children are dressing like this what message is being sent out? That these little bodies, that are still growing and forming are sexually available? Pedophilia continues to grow as an issue all around the world. But how much of that is because of the turn towards creating sex appeal in young children? On the news they even included a snippet from a children's DVD. It was a popular kids show, singing away having fun with a music clip. Then the next one comes on and it's a popular female artist, singing and dancing. She's completely naked with well placed lighting that hides just enough to bypass the censorship issues that would otherwise be involved. Kids are watching this, expecting their favorite cartoons and it's practically pornography. I know a lot of people will argue that it's a parents responsibility to ensure their kids dress appropriately and watch suitable things on TV. etc. etc. and as a mother of two young kids I agree that we play the major role of shielding them. There are parents who don't and that is their parental choice. But I have to wonder about the parents whose kids aren't as great as mine. Or what about when my daughter is old enough that pleasing Mummy isn't her world? When she's eleven or fourteen or seventeen? These days it might be as early as this year she starts questioning why I won't buy her that shirt or let her wear lipstick. She gets the influences from the outside world and kids want to be like their friends. They want to be like their idols. They want to be what they see in books and magazines and on TV. Kids start off wanting to grow up to BE things. What are we raising if what they're seeing and wanting to be are these sex symbols? Will they ever develop a great self esteem that allows them to appreciate the temple of their body? Learn to seek out the emotional depth involved in love making instead of emotionless sex? *sighs* I'm concerned, because it's MY kids who are growing up in this. I know I can hold them back now. I can guide them to make the right choices for themselves. I can hope to instill morals and teach them about right and wrong and give them enough information to make as few mistakes as possible. I can love and cherish them and make sure they know I do so that they are confident and outgoing. But someday I have to step away and let them step forward on my own. What if all that isn't enough to prevent peer pressure and distorted media from carrying them into the darkness anyway? This sort of thing leads to eating disorders, prostitution, drugs, alcohol, etc. It's a horrible feeling, this helplessness. Surely the commercial industry should take some responsibility. Surely parents around the world could unit to demand it? They put warning labels on cigarettes and age limits on alcohol, there must be a way to remind designers that our children, are just kids and deserve to have a worry-free, fun childhood. Stop making them grow up too fast, they'll get there soon enough as it is. |
| Opps, Um... Blog, Right! Someone's put my brain in the deep fryer tonight I think. Either that or I was reading MegaTokyo and got so engrossed that I kept turning the pages and turning the pages and even when I said, "I'll stop at 500 and get some sleep." I turned again and again but pulled myself away saving at an evil odd number 503. That is, evil, I should have read until at least 510 or even better 550 or 600. Those numbers are acceptable pause locations. But I have to get to sleep and I can't stay up all night so I figured I should stop. *ponders* Maybe I should go back and save it at 500 and then read 501, 502, and 503 again tomorrow. That could deal with my odd number dilema. But strangely enough I was logging out of Yahoo and closing down my email and doing one last glance at my WDC inbox (which I might add got zero mail since I checked it his morning *pouts*) and realized that I'd forgotten to blog. Or rather I was involved chatting and MTing at 8PM when the reminder beeped at me so I dismissed it and figured I'd remember to do it shortly. Of course, I did remember. *cheers* But I almost didn't. *hears the crowd cheering the fact that it being forgotten was possible* HEY! You love reading my inane chatter, remember, right? My loyal fans? *listens to the echo of silence* Anyway, MegaTokyo ROCKS! *chuckles* Of course you all shouldn't read it because you will learn that I'm a geek if you do. Because I like geeky things like that and I think it's awesome that way back in 2003 Fred was drawing Sony Employee's with Playstation 3 designer wear. Of course what he needs to do is ransome that sort of thing off to make the PS3 cheaper. Which reminds me, release date must be any day now but of course I won't be buying it *sighs sadly* Not yet at least and possibly not at all. Thankfully these days I'm more of a PC geek. My PS2 is my primary DVD player but these days it does little more than that. *laments the abuse and disuse of her PS2* My PS2 needs me to have RL friends who's asses I can kick. PS2 games are more fun when played with friends (who's asses I can kick). *ponders* Yeah sometimes I'll let them kick my ass ok? Cause I'm nice you understand and people don't want to play with me if I win all the time. Speaking of games I got a package! *does the 'I got a package' dance* Neverwinter Nights 2!!!! WOOT!!! I haven't installed it yet however, but I will, probably tomorrow. I can't play it yet cause I haven't clocked SoU and HotU yet but I will and when I do I'm going to clock NWN2. All formerly living formerly dead undead things must die. I'm good at ensuring they return to being good and proper dead. Goblins and Orcs must die too. Dragons I wish didn't have to die but some of them are evil and bad so they die too. *sighs sadly* The bringer of justice and righter of wrongs must restore peace. For what it's worth, respawn games are evil and I like NWN's because it's not a respawn game. There are occasions when a formerly cleared area will spawn something but it's generally plot related and usually makes me jump because I'm a firm believer in area clearing. You know in modern warfare that would involve dropping bombs like they did in Hiroshima but in NWN's it's more along the lines of using my greatsword to hack to death all the minions of evil (including 'coup de grace'ing any sleeping minions of evil) and stealing all the valueables from the barrels, crates, chests, and tables, room by room. This is clearing area's. You know you can't go into new areas without having completely cleared the one before it. It's just not safe you see. If you leave minions of evil at your back they will move to advantageous sucking your brains or werewolf rabies biting positions to destroy you. Plus, SAVE! Save is your friend. Character respawn is unholy. If you character respawn you are technically becoming undead which makes you a minion of evil that I must destroy. Load to last save point is better. Plus it allows you to stuff up in all sorts of ways if you safe frequently. Having multiple save points is good. It's like choose your own adventures when you keep your finger in a page so that if you don't like the option you chose the first time you can go back and pick another. Hey! WDC Interactives are like that too! And so, this is my geeky gamer girl guided gaming education for all my loyal fans and subjects. Don't forget to suck up to your God (I'll be yours if you don't have one) frequently so that the deity will continue to help you out blasting the minions of undead evil back to the abyss and get some sleep, like I'm about to now, cause you can't fight the minions of evil if you're not well rested.  |
| In America it was Superbowl Sunday. As an Aussie female semi-disinterested in sport this fact almost completely elluded me except that my best friend was going to a Superbowl party. I admit I'm not the most experienced person in the world when it comes to parties. My impressions may have been completely warped by television and a lack of personal experience or an abundance of weird family experience. But... To me a party means, people, more than a handful of them, eating food that isn't good for you and drinking, be it alcohol or softies. To me a party means talking, laughing, and listening to music or watching TV. If the music is good it could lead to dancing and if the TV is good it could lead to shouting. When I pictured a Superbowl party I thought of guys, primarily guys. Admittedly there were women too, those who loved the football as much as the men and those who were dragged along by the men and really just wanted to stay away from the noise or to chat with the other women. I picture some of those men, the ones who didn't bring their unenthusiastic wives or girlfriends along being a bit rowdier then they would be if their women were watching on and some of the men who's women were watching on being rowdier because of the encouragement of the others. To me a Superbowl party tended to involve more beer then spirits, wine, or softdrinks. The softies were available (for the women, the men would claim) but the coffee table was littered with empty beer cans. Nacho chips covered in cheesy dip in big man-hand sized bowls. Big cheesy, meaty, fat slices of greasy pizza eaten straight from the box. The ladies had a couple of blocks of chocolate around the table in the kitchen and the men snuck by on occasion to garnish a couple of pieces as if the women wouldn't notice. To me a Superbowl party means voices raised, bodys moving, men turning into vibrant boys who were umpires and players and fans all at the same time. They cheer, loudly, for every yard and jump into the air hooting when their team scored a touchdown then jeered at any of their mates going for the other team. Halftime involved a mixture of guys being transfixed on the half time show, women passing to see what the halftime show was, and recounts of the best passes or tackles of the night so far in animated, energetic conversation. While the food and beer was restocked and everyone took turns taking a leak. When the game wrapped up the winners would sing their teams song at the top of their voices and the loses would boo them tossing nacho chips across the room at the TV where the winning team was shown off or at their friends. The winners would jeer and boast about being the greatest and always beating the pants off the other guys and the losers would claim it was a great game and that if just 'that' tackle or just 'that' pass had made it's mark the ending would have been completely different. And then as the stadium cleared the boys at home would be pumped up with competetiveness and the women would be happily chatting away in the other room. The boys would begin recounting the game with full demonstrations of tackles and passes with either a ball that was brought along by a partygoer or a now almost empty nacho bowl, generally glass so that when someone inevitably fumbles it crashes to the ground in a heroic display of splinters. The coffee table and the sofa were in great peril of the men displaying their prowess and skill in their slow action replays direct from the game. Eventually the women would round up their men as the energy began to fade and the beers started to slur their talking and perferably before anyone had to be rushed to hospital with concussion or a broken nose. Everyone would head home in the darkness, taking it easy on the roads that were busy with other party goers heading home after revelries as well. The hosts would then either look around and start cleaning up, or be too wiped out and leave it all till the morning. Life would return to normal. Everyone would get up for work the next day feeling a little sorry for how much they drank but remembering, win or lose, having had a great night and knowing that they'd be talking about the game for at least the next week, and the highlights for years to come. *chuckles* And there is where the problem lies isn't it? I discovered that my vision isn't really at all accurate. Or is it? I may have to go around Blogville on the hunt for Superbowl blogs that recount the actualities of what constitutes a Superbowl party. Am I being completely a woman believing this is what should happen? I know if it were us women excited about it there would be a lot of noise and excitement that would rave on into the wee hours. I know if you were Australian's at an AFL or Cricket party it would be mostly like this because we Aussies know how to have a party. So men? How do you party? Like this? Or are you doing it all wrong?  |
| Despite his frenzied pleas and begging I won't give in and step down from my resolve to utterly humiliate the source of all evil. I'm very good friends with the godfather of darkness, the shadow of razor-sharp shuriken, the lord of the abyss. He has lead a host of rampaging hobgoblins. He has devoured unsightly foods and left his putrid mark in all manner of places. He is doom and destruction and all should fear the dreaded potty messages!!! Ok, so for everyone else I guess I should try and start at the beginning. Bare with me and forgive me little trid if I miss anything. Feel free to bob me over the head because it really was such a long time ago and my mind is a sieve. Plus back in those days I was a bit preoccupied, what with running a whole world and all. *chuckles* Yep, just lost the rest of the audience again. I swear you'll be enlightened if you can manage to keep reading. It all began about *does math’s on her fingers* wow, 8 years? *jaw drops* It can't really be that long ago can it? I'd have said 6. *ponders* *contemplates pulling the archives out* OMG that's a good idea. *gets distracted by archives*Ok FINE! I can't date back exactly to when we met but I can prove it was at some point prior August 2001. I can PROOVE that much but I KNOW it was well before then. Unfortunately we had a server crash that destroyed my prior records. The crash taught me the vital importance of backing up. Anyway, way back so many years ago I was famous in gaming. Well, maybe not famous but I was rare commodity (a female gamer) and boasted over 1000 unique members with 580 approved characters in our databases on a role-play gaming site. If you Google for my name you'll probably find mention of it out there in the ethers although the site itself no longer exists. Outlanda Games was one of my hugest accomplishments and for around about four years I programmed, web designed, administered, and played on an active website with forum based (play-by-post/PbP) gaming. It was there I met a very strange person and I have to admit that way back then I never would have imagined we'd become what we are today. I mean, OMG he was weird. Sure he could write, kinda. He was most certainly creative and knew his stuff when it came to gaming. Ohhh, let me see if I can grab a snippet from a post he made way back in 2001. *grins wickedly* pfft Um... Here we go, maybe this is more telling about his personality then his gaming. lol "OOC: I am sorry. It is Football Season and UCLA is making a play for the National Championship! I am preoccupied. I will try to get focused again." *OOC means Out Of Character Yes, he still gets distracted by Football. It's a very sad thing. Anyway, he's been distracting me, trying to talk me out of writing this entry and ‘encouraging’ me to delve into those archives more deeply but if I do that much longer this entry will never get written and he will win. That is not allowed. I must write this humiliating entry and share his unique brand of a-door-a-bubbleness with the multiverse. What I can I say about a trid? Well, he's my best friend and I adore him. We've never met but in the past five to six (or so *glares at the trid*) years we've exchanged hundreds of pager messages, and emails and even a time or two a phone call. He's always been there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. The magic light that brightened my dark moments and always, without fail, could bring the biggest, goofiest, most perversely pathetic smile to my face without even trying. I know, I know, there is as yet another issue unexplained. TRID!?! WTF is a trid? I don't even know when it all started. I, in my clueless Australian state certainly had no idea what he was talking about when he said, "HOODY HOO! SILLY RABBIT! KICKS ARE FOR TRIDS!" *blinks* Yep, all upper case, as is the case with all his pager messages and in a way part of the trademark that makes him so a-door-a-bubble. In future I'll refrain from quoting his uppercase for the sake of reader vision. Of course this made absolutely no sense. And after getting over the horror at my blank expression (or rather, reply that probably said "WTF?") he taught me about Trix. Apparently it's a breakfast cereal. Apparently it's for kids. Apparently there is (was?) a commercial for said cereal that involved a rabbit who had an unsightly addiction to said Trix so much so that while trying to obtain some he was rebuffed with the phrase: "Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids" I already mentioned that the trid isn't normal. He's kind of topsy-turvy sometimes so in this unique brand of a-door-a-bubbleness (or *ponders* maybe he's dyslexic?) he came out with "Silly Rabbit! Kicks are for Trids!" Apparently I was a Silly Rabbit. OMG I just realized why I can't get enough of him. *chuckles* I'm a Silly Rabbit with an unsightly addiction to trids. But to this day this rabbit would never kick a trid even when he deserves it. *wears angel wings and a halo* And so, now you know how lame I am. *frowns* This entry is backfiring here. It's supposed to be embarrassing to Trids not to Silly Rabbits. Ummmm.... How can I salvage this? Um.... Ok, so, moving on pretend all that didn't happen. LOOK OUT!!! There's a NINJA!!! HIDE! *looks beady eyed as she watches out for more Ninjas* Sorry, I swear those guys are getting more and more creative. One was hiding in my underwear draw the other day. I'm pretty sure he was sniffing the crotch of my 'Tease' g-string and wearing my garter and stockings. Ninjas are, alas, the curse of trids. Because trids cannot leap large oceans in a single bound like Superman they resort to dark, ulterior methods of remaining knowledgeable of all non-trid related happenings in the world of rabbits. In every corner lurks a ninja but you can't see them, because they're ninjas you know. Stealthy, dressed in black, designed to mooch and always prepared to silence any observer. Thankfully the 'World Excellence Institute of Ninja Extraordinary Relations" (WEINER) have a website and you can order experienced ninjas online with their simple form and a credit card. So in retaliation I buzzed up a few of my own and they report all non-rabbit related happenings in the world of trids. Of course I have to replace mine frequently. Apparently they get sick and die from gas inhalation if they've spent too much time on his case. Perhaps I should report these incidents to the AGA? (I had to go look up the American Gas Association, what with being Aussie and all I didn't know who controlled household gas in the US but I did know it wasn't the DWP.) The ninjas are the least of my problems with trids however. Of late he's taken to laying down these challenges. I don't mean easy challenges either. I mean stuff that actually makes me think and get creative and attempt to evoke emotions be it sadness or humor. I don't do unspontaneous humor too well. Even the spontaneous humor is more on accident then anything. I don't know how to be funny. I'm blonde and therefore my moments of funny occur in my moments of ditz. Of course this challenge was only a semi-challenge. I was never going to reveal the true nature of trids to the multiverse. I mean it's taken me 6(ish) years to start opening him up to rabbits. He's shy my little trid is. Cute, funny, and affectionately shy. He's going to blush and laugh and blush some more all through this entry. Makes me wish I'd sent my last team of ninjas with full video photography equipment but you know it costs an arm and a leg to keep film crews mobile. I'll have to make do with their artist renditions and caricatures. So you have it, a trid entry. It's in no way complete. You can't put 6(ish) years into a single blog entry. Besides, I'm selfish, I don't want to share all of those years with the multiverse. Some of those are precious moments just for me and my trid. The multiverse has to get their own trid moments or make do with the few I will share. Here is to the past 6(ish) years of trid relations and here's to many more years to come. *ponders* Ok friends, who wants to be next on my bloggination hit list? *looks around with beady eyes on the hunt for an unsuspecting victim* |
Ok, so I promised Kåre Enga in Montana  that I'd talk about Australia's drought and how it effects the country and perhaps more specifically me. But then today an evil trid laid down what to me turns into a challenge. He boldly claimed that I probably wouldn't write blog entries about him. "I AM SAFE!" he so proudly proclaims and so just to prove him particularly wrong I'm going to dedicate my entire blog to him, tomorrow. *grins wickedly* That will be a LOT of fun.Meanwhile, as promised, water and the lack there of in Australia. Actually the metropolitan regions of Australia don't tend to have much of an issue with drought and many citizens remain blithely unaware of the way it grips our country. For some strange reason I'm hyper aware of water and the impact our usage here has on other parts of this country. We have particularly hot summers with very little rain (normally none) and winters that are extremely mild with some rain but in later years a lot less than normal. This tends to lead to water restrictions. Here in Perth the dams that sustain the cities water supplies are low. They were low, less than 30% at the end of winter and have only been getting lower through a hot, dry summer. In a way I've been thankful that our summer has turned more tropical in recent years. It means we've been blessed with occasionally summer showers, humid, muggy, overcast weather that sometimes drenched the earth but quickly evaporated into clear blue skys again. As a human it's uncomfortable but for our water supply it must provide a little blessed releif. We have restricted watering days. We're allowed to water our gardens only twice a week and I tend to not water my lawns at all. The majority of lawns are brown, covered in brittle, dry grass and bindi prickles. There are pockets throughout the suburbs of homes with pristine emerald lawns and more often than not they're accompanied by the tell tale signs of overwatering trailing rivers down the street into the storm drains. The fact is that here other than water restrictions like those the lack of water barely impacts. For the most part it's completely ignored by some and others just don't care or really don't understand the true situation. I know it's only in recent years that I've come to understand. As a child it was certainly nothing I ever concerned myself with when I danced in the sprinklers or took long showers. Further inland however they face the reality of drought every single day. The further from the coast one goes the browner, goldener the land becomes. Most of the inner regions of Australia are for the most part unpopulated but there are the ranches much like I suppose are found scattered across the US. Cattle and sheep ranches, and various farms. Anyway, there in the back of beyond, the bush, live the really hardy Australians. These people are the true Australian's. We have multicultural Australia on the coasts but the people who really created this land, the timeless ones that hold it together live in the center. Aboriginies living side by side, working side by side with the white interlopers. *chuckles* The land is their mistress and somehow they pull from it more than any newcomer could ever imagine actually thrives there. There they depend on the simple things that sustain life. Water, and the lack of, play vital parts in the lives of the people who make their livelihood this way. Some live from rain to rain and it can be years between both. Of course the news that I think I mentioned that sparked the interest off in the first place is that they had a decent rain. I'm not sure exactly how long it had been but many of the ranchers and farmers had been dependant on government support to tide them over because there just wasn't enough water to sustain the flocks/herds/crops they would normally cultivate to support their pocket communities. Out there they don't own a single house but are small communities. A single ranch/farm could span kilometres and are run by families. It takes a lot to shelter and feed small towns worth of people. It takes a lot to sustain the produce they supply. In a polar experience then most other industries however, when there are droughts the price of meat and wool etc actually drops or maintains. When you would think price would rise because the production vs. demand isn't there it doesn't. The quality is lower because animals and crops are under nourished and with the animals particularly many are getting sold off early because the ranchers can't afford to maintain a larger herds. *chuckles* Ok, I'm rambling, obviously the issues that face real Australian's and our primary industries is something I can get passionate about. I used to dream of living a life of a rancher but of course I'd never be able to withstand the heat. lol Meanwhile, the trials and tribulations they face and the tragedies they triumph over make me aware of the part my family play even so far removed. Water is a vital life force that sustains the planet and all life upon it. Sure, the world is covered primarily in water but most of it is inconsumable in it's current form. The destruction humankind has already rent in the worlds sea and sky is creating more and more problems that might, if not reversed, lead to an unsustainable environment. As temperatures around the world rise with global warming the pockets of fresh water disappait or run into the ocean and become salinated. Eventually there will be nothing but salt flooding the land and drought completing it. Like the barren sands of a tropical island surrounded by sea. "Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink." - Samuel Taylor Coleridge |
| Because I'm preoccupied, slacking off. *grins* Actually my best friend pointed me in the direction of megatokyo.com and has me reading over the archives. 800+ comics to entertain and delight geeks from all over the world. Thusly I'm completely hooked. I've been trying to get in at least 100 strips a day but haven't managed it some days being tied up with other things. I'm at this very moment reading strip 246 and so too busy to write a REAL blog entry. *hangs head in shame* I know, I know, all those fellow bloggers I nag at about not writing frequently or only doing a half-assed job of it are glaring at me and pointing your fingers. In totally unrelated news I'm pissed off at my bank account and at myself for again exceeding my income. Today I'd promised to take the kids swimming and I feel like an utter failure and a particularly evil and unfair mother. I also feel hot, frustrated and sore. Today I went and did the workout as part of that new routine I mentioned yesterday so I'd got my muscles happening and done plenty of walking. Then we had to walk an hour to the local pools. We detoured to the shop so I could use an ATM to get some cash out to cover drinks and pool entry. But the evil ATM wouldn't give me my cash. Before I'd left I had checked my balance to ensure I had enough to withdraw and it was fine, low but enough to cover a trip to the local pools. An hour later I'm penniless, hot, slightly sun-tormented (not burned but getting there) and very thirsty. I scrounged up the shrapnel in my purse to get a bottle of water to share between us for the long walk home, again in the sun and by the time I collapsed in my airconditioned living room with gratitude I was just so glad to be home. I'm still however peeved that I allowed my budget to get out of control again. What kind of pathetic excuse for a mother can't even afford to take her kids to the swimming pools on a scorching hot day? Again, my plans to be stricter on my budget are firmly in hand. Kids should be able to be rewarded for working hard in school and being good for Mummy at home with a long cool swim followed by an icey pole on the walk home. |
| Today, it began. *melts into a puddle in her chair* That's right, the return of my daughter to school also heralded day one of the twelve week exercise regime my mother and I are embarking on together. We can't afford to pay for gym membership but about a week ago we decided we should both work together to get ourselves back on track. A year ago I was 10kgs lighter than I am today. The September before I weighted what I do now and began Weight Watchers which over the 25 weeks we both went, prior to my mother changing jobs, helped me knock out 15kg's from what is again my current weight. So, I can get them off in six months, somehow it felt easier to stack them back on again. The good news is I know how bad I've been these past six months. I know how much chocolate and junk food and how many meals I've been having. I know how little I've been moving. I know all the things I've done that's stacked the kilograms back on which makes it easier to get them back off again. Today we began with the first action step. We've been in preaction for a good few weeks now. Knowing that we need to get back on track but not quite reaching the doing so part. Today we started doing it. I began the day getting up on time for a change. 7AM in time to shower and dress ready to get my daughter to school on time. I was suprised how easy it was after two months of sleeping in till anywhere between 9 and noon. I was stirring even before the alarm went off and it wasn't agony to drag myself out of bed. I was rareing to go. Twenty minutes walk to school. I pushed the pram but baby boy was running ahead of us instead of using it. I knew he wouldn't manage the whole distance I had to go that day however so I took the pram anyway. He can usually make the school trip in one direction but doesn't have the energy to get all the way home again. After dropping the oldest to school I continued walking another half hour to my mothers house. We progressed to about thirty minutes of Yoga. Yoga I might add is pretty intense a workout. Day one hurts. I'm using muscles I had forgotten all about. Stretching and straining in ways my body isn't used to doing. But it was invigorating and we took it easy, doing only as much as was comfortable, or in my case just a little more than comfortable. We followed the Yoga up with a fifteen minute walk around the park (me carrying a two year old half way) as a further cool down. At that stage Mother headed to bed (having worked night shift) and I had another fifteen minutes to walk home again, pushing the pram. Then a further half hour back to school in the afternoon and a further hour into town. I was prepared to go through the agony of walking yet another hour home again but ran into my mother-in-law so we snuck a ride in her car. I have to say I was very thankful because my legs were about ready to give up. lol I'm already feeling it in my hips and lower back today and I expect to be sore tomorrow. But the regime is on. Tomorrow I have the hour walk there, 30 minutes of something (Yoga, dance, pilates, circuit, arobics, etc.), 15 minute walk, 30 minute walk and another hour in the afternoon. With all this extra activity these excess kilograms better fall off. lol Of course I know it's not all about the workout. The food matters too. Quantity as well as quality. That means no more chocolate *cries* I could say restrict my chocolate but I know if I have a little I'll want a lot and keep craving it. Where as if I give it up completely once I get past the withdrawl it won't have a hold over me any more. I'm also off soft drinks and onto water only. That will be harder and not as strict, I'll have a diet lemonade if I'm out and about or a cup of tea from time to time instead. The good news is that hopefully it'll help me keep my budget in order as well. If I'm not having chocolate, soft drinks, or takeaway it's a lot of money being saved every week. It'll make a big difference to ensuring I don't have those mortgage woes and start putting money aside again so that I can save up for my fencing. Other than the aches of a decent workout I feel pretty good. I'm positive (mostly), uplifted (kinda), and looking forward to more tomorrow. |
| I was talking to a friend today (Yes I'm blaming you, you know who you are!) about her lack of blogging recently. She came up with the well know, "I don't really have anything to blog about." Which always leads me to the fact that even when I think I have nothing to write about there is always something there if I just shut up and start writing. My suggestion to her was to go a bit wild and write about her sex life, even if she has to make it up. It'll keep us readers enthralled and envious. It'll get her brain working on writing and bring her to the page. And hell, writing about sex is damn fun almost as much fun as actually HAVING sex. *grins* Alas, for all those poor saps like me who aren't getting any the land of make believe and vibrators are about all there is. I've even started contemplating porn lately. Not actually viewing it, just wondering if it might be worth doing which is kind of scary because when I'm getting laid I'm not that keen on porn. It shows the length this drought has lasted. Ok TMI *blushes* Anyway, we were talking and it got me thinking it's about time I wrote an intriguing sex scene of my own in my blog. Of course, now I'm put on the spot about it and just spent all these paragraphs talking about doing it I kind of psyched myself out. lol Oh the irony. It's virtual imaginary performance anxiety. How embarressing. I guess that means you'll all have to stay tuned for future episodes of the way Rebecca makes up crap because there is nothing else to write about in her blog. Then again, so far I've failed to actually reach the point where I've made up stuff to fill in the day. I guess that means I either lead an interesting life or I simply don't care that I can be particularly boring sometimes. *grins* Yep, it's more the latter. Or not so much that I don't care about being boring but more that I just say to hell with it and write whatever drivel comes out of my fingers, see, like tonight. It's not so hard to ramble on about nothing. Who says a blog has to entertain readers. At least I wrote it and for all those bloggers I regularly read (you know who you are) WRITE IT! Even if it's drivel cause reading your blogs gives me something to do when I'm trying to find reasons not to write. PLEASE!!! *looks all puppy dog eyed and begs prettily* Blog! |
| I started today understanding the horror that is Mondayitis. I didn't feel much like working and was glad to have an easy day lined up. I wasn't very interested in writing the days 15 minutes freewriting exercise but thankfully my wonderful friends via the WDC chat room got me working by joining me for the timer which finally got that task over and done with. After writing that I was feeling much better. I was intrigued by the sparks of inspiration that came about in that peice. It's no Shakespeare and nothing really worth keeping or eternalizing but some of the imagery was touching and I tapped an emotional core that lasted fleeting moments before I reverted to blah. Earlier today I was sure there were a number of topics I could cover in my blog but now as I sit here today I'm in blah mode again. Nothing at all seems particularly interesting and I don't much want to be here anyway. If everyone has been feeling like this lately then I can understand why there are so few blog entries for me to read this past week. I'm missing my fix of other peoples lives. I'm beginning to feel like I'm alone in a dark world and I suppose that could be related to lack of chat or I don't know, this blahness. Perhaps it has to do with stress again. Money woes strike again this month when I realise, once again, I'm doing juggling tricks to make sure I can keep a roof over my families heads. The mortgage is due and I'm scrimping up the funds to make sure it's covered. Thankfully there is hopefully enough food to keep the kids fed and cash in my purse to get a fresh loaf of break and a litre of milk which we'll need to handle breakfasts and lunches. I'm also realising that once again some of my dearest friends are moving on to other realities. Anyea and Mindy are off to conquer elsewhere in the cyber world and it makes me hear the echo of WDC loneliness. I haven't been around much myself lately simply because I'm feeling detached from the community and my writing more generally. I struggle to remember why I want to be a writer. I find it harder and harder to focus on the joy it brings me when most of the time all I feel is stress and self-loathing and rejection. It's all a viscious circle with my self-esteem. The ups and downs of bipolar swing me about and I feel great for a few days and then am thrust back into wallowing apathy. It's not even really depression other than this horrid self-pity it's more like a lack of care. This sensation feels worse than being sad about everything or feeling like the world is coming to an end. It's more like having no reason to keep living. The world could come to an end but it doesn't effect me because my world has no end, just this constant nothingness that continues day in and out without falter. *sighs* I look back over my blogs in the past and too many of them face these moods. Why is it I feel like this more often then I feel really happy or content? More so recently as if it's getting worse. In good news, we managed to see the fireworks from my front yard and I'm glad we avoided the fireworks this year. They had some nasty troubles in the city, some of the barges caught on fire and we've had some tough bushfire issues all weekend. Caused by this weird weather for the most part. It's hot, very hot, and it from some days it's completely dry, others it's wet, and sometimes it's the static of both barely raining, oppressive heat, that leads to lightning storms. I'm surprised we've not had many blackouts this year however although I should knock wood since it's just the moment we'll get one. lol Anyway, so there you have it, a blog entry that is pretty meaningless ultimately. PS I think I'm going to shelve TDG again. I'm still struggling to read it. I'm not inspired by the characters and in fact I need to go back to the boards with Jake, he's not real and I don't much like him. It's all definately calling for a rewrite but not at the moment. Now I just have to figure out what or who is talking to me at the moment and get fired up and working on that instead. Or maybe I'll just go back to Neverwinter Nights until I've finished clocking them all. I clocked the original campaign the other night and have made a firm dent on the first expansion. I also must remember to get back to sleeping normal hours or at all. *grimaces* With my oldest going back to school on Wednesday I'll no longer be able to sleep whenever I reach exhaustion until I rise or the kids get too rowdy. Back to midnight curfew and 7AM alarm clock. Don't think I'll be able to enforce the midnight since I hadn't given it up, insomnia did that. I was still going to bed for midnight but would lay there unable to sleep. Plus, I'm falling behind on my Daily Poetry Journal. This apathy could be a good mood to write some poetry in. Yes I know. I tend toward some dark stuff, just hope it's halfway decent. |
| but I'm so not in the mood. I guess I'm here because of the schedule but today I'd rather be anywhere else. I haven't been in the mood to work all day and was kind of thankful that a big part of my workday was set aside for reading. It's strange having moody days like this. I've always had them but it can be so frustrating sometimes. I wish it were easier to remain motivated all the time. It's like trudging up a mountain, legs caked in snow. A slow slog where you have to keep convincing yourself that the goal at the top is worth more than the hot cup of tea waiting at base camp. Of course it's too darn hot to really be thinking of snow. I'm in Australia and like many Australians I've never seen snow in my life. It's well and truly the middle of summer here and our lovely country is giving us weather that reminds us we're home for Australia Day tomorrow. Even my airconditioner is struggling to keep the blaze of the day out of my living room. In the background I've got the TV on and music blarring from the Australia Day 2007 celebrations that must be happening in the Eastern States. Normally on Australia Day the kids and I would go to see the fireworks but not this year and I'm kind of disappointed that I have to break tradition. I think this will be the first year since we were a family (the year before my daughter was born) that I have gone to see the fireworks. It's sad to give up but I remind myself that it's safer for us to stay home. Normally the fireworks start between 7 and 8 PM at night but this year because of stupid daylight savings it's been pushed back to 9PM and without a car it means we'd be walking home very late at night. It would be an effort to keep my six year old's energy up enough to manage the one hour walk at that time of night and the youngest probably wouldn't even stay awake during the hour walk there. Still, I guess that could have a little to do with my melancholy today. Part of me feels sad that the kids won't get to enjoy the fireworks but mostly there is this dark, selfish part of me that resents them a little because I can't go.  Knowing that about myself makes me feel even worse, guilty for feeling like that. It reminds me how hard being a single mother can be sometimes. If my ex were still in the picture we'd be going because with his support and the car it wouldn't be dangerous.I suspect a lot of families will choose not to go this year because of the late hour. It's a shame really and hopefully it gives people a reason to lean away from the vote for daylight savings if we're ever given the option again. Odds are we won't be not the politians have pushed it through regardless of the people. But I live in hope and reaquaint myself with the reason I'm an anarchist at heart. lol I guess we'll have to try and find another way to celebrate Australia Day that doesn't involve leaving the airconditioned comfort of my living room or being out late at night when a great deal of the country will be sloshing drunk. I've no idea what we'll do. But it's a public holiday which means no work so maybe I'll settle in on the couch and watch movies with the kids. We might have to walk up to the deli in the morning to stock up on junk to eat. Now I'm feeling better, the prospect of doing nothing but chilling out with the kids and eating chocolate and chips is very heartening. It mightn't be a normal Australia Day tradition but it'll be fun all the same. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
I'll let you know when I get it done.