Tuesday, January 31, 2012

10 Reasons Why I'm Not Having Sex With You Tonight

Oh look at you clicking over here to check out my sex life, you pervert!

I figured it was about time to get my Cranky Pants on about someone trying to get my Cranky Pants off, so if you're in any way related to myself or Map Guy, you might wanna click away now. Alternatively, feel free to just give me awkward looks the next time we see each other, OK? Great, let's get to it: 

10 Reasons Why I'm Not Having Sex With You Tonight

1. I know how you treated the last girl you slept with as another notch on your belt. It shits me off that you're labeled a Casanova for behaving like an animal whereas if I did the same I'd be branded a slut. Assholes annoy me but double standards piss me off even more.

2. Because I don't actually know who you are. We may have had a few drinks, a lot of laughs and danced the night away together, hell, I may have even professed my undying love to you... but I'm not stupid enough to actually go home with a complete stranger.

3. It's midnight, I've been up since 4am dealing with a velcro toddler who is sick/tantruming/just bloody annoying and I'm completely knackered. If you were interested could you have not hinted at it before 9pm when you were playing video games? The only way you're allowed to touch me right now is if you're massaging my aching shoulders (and no, it will most definitely not lead to anything after the day I've had!).

4. I'm surfing the crimson wave / having a visit from Aunt Flo / have the painters in / it's that time of the month / experiencing code red / riding the injured mouse / have my rags / have my period and I really can't be bothered with towels or showers.

5. The sheets are clean. I love the feeling of a clean body on clean sheets - just give me one night to luxuriate in that silky goodness. P.S. The couch is available, let's go there. P.P.S. The kitchen bench is fine, let's go there too.

6. The toddler is awake and calling for me. There is nothing that kills a mood quicker than your child calling out your name when you're ten minutes in to the deed - the only person calling out my name at that time should be you. Time to shut up shop and hang a "Sorry, we're closed" sign on the front of my knickers.

7. You're not my husband.

8. You are my husband.
9. My/your parents are in the next room. I realize they all know we've had sex, we have a child to prove it - but do they really have to hear it? It's kinda hard to feel aroused when you can hear your inlaws breathing, plus, I'm not exactly known for *ahem* being quiet.

10. We have run out of condoms and the last time I even held your hand I got pregnant. The whole two year age gap is overrated, I'm not ready to be up the duff again and I'm not chancing it, buster! Put it back in your pants.

Why aren't you having sex tonight? Don't tell me you have a headache, that excuse doesn't cut it

Monday, January 30, 2012

The Hairy Chef {guest post}

I met The Hairy Chef a few years ago on Australia Day through a friend of a friend. A big group of us played cricket, drank beer and listened to the Hottest 100... well they did the beer and cricketing, I just waddled around with my big pregnant belly pretending to be awesome in front of these young, funky people. The best part of the day though was all of us trying to reassure his vegetarian girlfriend that the bird boo that had just landed IN HER MOUTH did not mean she had jeopardized her morals.

So who is The Hairy Chef? Well, The Hairy Chef is a swimmer, a baker, a photographer, a writer, a teacher and really hairy. Originally from Perth, he is currently teaching English as a second language in Bogota, Colombia, drinking too much coffee and thoroughly enjoying the prevalence of anatomical augmentations in Latin America. Follow the (surgically enhanced) adventure at www.thehairychef.com, but get your first taste of it right here, right now:

10 Reasons why The Green Grass is not all that green:
Traveling Is Never As Much Fun As It Should Be

1. Intestinal Parasites

No matter how hard you try, any extended period overseas will result in extended periods on the toilet and various moments at which you realise you might not make it there in time. Of course, when the toilet on the overnight bus doesn't work, and the only place to go is on the street behind the bus, you come to appreciate the luxuries of toilet paper and throne-style toilets. But when the bus driver pulls away while you're squatting in the street behind the bus, you come to appreciate the luxuries of stable bladders and solid stools.

2. Repacking your suitcase
Nobody likes packing. There's always too much stuff, there's never enough time. And you never use the things you packed in the time you didn't have.

3. THE Conversation
The Hairy Chef: Hi, where are you from?

Tourist: I'm from America. You?

THC: Perth.

T: Blink.

THC: In Australia.

T: Ooooh. Nice.

THC: Blink.

T: So. Where are you going?

THC: North. Via city A, place B and up to C.

T: Blink. Blink.

THC: You?

T: South. Via city D, place E and F.

THC: Sweeeeet.

T: Have you done G yet?

THC: Yeah.

T: It's like a total waste of time, huh?

THC: I loved it.

T: How much did you pay for it?

THC: $10.

T: Blink.

THC: You?

T: $350.

4. Not realising that you don't need to visit everything in the LP
You know that by the time you've spent 3 hours looking for the Automotive Historical Museum that it's high time you started looking for thrills in other places.

5. Not appreciating experiences because you're concentrating on taking the coolest Facebook profile pic to make your friends jealous
Nothing quite beats hiking 5 days up a mountain through snow and rain on 7 packets of instant noodles to get to the top so you can plank for your latest Facebook update.  
Planking on Mt Kilimanjaro
6. Eating rice and meat for weeks on end
When you don't know the local words for "I'd like a medium-rare steak served in a bath of jus-de-calf-milk" eating rice and potatoes for 3 weeks makes for a very long, and arduously constipated 3 weeks.

7. Ordering the chicken and getting the sheep's kidney
If you had paid attention in class, you would have avoided ordering a bowl of "vagina soup" in front of a group of nuns, or asking if you can "fuck the bus all the way to town".

8. The "helpful" local
"Yes the museum is three blocks from here. Yes it's open until 6." You arrive to find an stationery store that specialises in varieties of post-its, and is closed.

9. Breaking Cultural Customs
Learning the hard way that certain things in certain places equate to telling a parishioner what you'd like to do to his daughter.

10.Dealing with other travelers who NEED to tell you shit you don't want to know (my personal favourite)
"I left my ex-girlfriend behind. She was a whore. Now I'm here to sleep with married women because a witch told me it was my destiny." (Andre, The German)

Tell me your worst travel story... the grosser the better. 

Find The Hairy Chef on Facebook

Friday, January 27, 2012

FlogYoBlog Friday: The Not A Public Holiday Edition

I love an over cooked snagger,
A cold beer in my belly,
A day off work to enjoy it all,
And cricket on the tele.
But back to work the next day,
It just seems so bloody alien,
Where's my day off to recover?
Fuck this! It's un-Australian!

I know, I know, most of you linking up are mums who work 24/7... but shoddy poetry has it's limits!

Also, massive apologies to Dorothea MacKellar for bastardizing your poem. But *ahem* let's just Flog, OK?

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

The thirty before 30 recap

I figured it's about time I sat down and assessed how I did with my Thirty before 30 list of goals. I've been avoiding it the way you avoid swimming at the beach immediately after dry shaving your legs... because I know I will feel the pain of salt penetrating a thousand tiny, self created wounds.

I rarely set goals because I'm so bad at finishing things and I end up feeling like I've failed because, well, I have failed. Even when I go all gung-ho and promise myself I do it this time, I just don't. Things get in the way; pregnancy, child wrangling, work, life. But mostly my fucked up head.
I have a room full of redundant supplies bought each time I decided to try some new activity or set a goal because I don't do things by halves. I am committed to failing in the most spectacular way possible. This year I will do more art = a room full of canvases, paints and paintbrushes. This year I will start my own makeup business = a metric tonne of eyeshadow and false lashes. This year I will meditate and spend more time on me = three books on Buddhism and mindfulness plus a fancy pants meditation CD. All gathering dust.

The final result is that I'm left feeling like a tool for yet another year of not accomplishing anything with the added bonus of feeling guilty about wasting money on so much stuff I never use. Especially when I could spend it on important, expensive things like wine or medication or other useful things.

Having the goals written down, even on the internet, doesn't spur me on, doesn't motivate me. So the list has sat here, for almost a year laughing at me, mocking me. So, rather than get all emo about it (oops, too late) I'm pulling on my big girl pants and assessing the list. Let's see what I failed to do, and what I managed to do despite being the Queen of Procrastination thus surprising us all, mmkay?

1. Finish renovating the house
Fail. OK so we're not starting off well. Our walls are still without paint and our yard is a disgrace. I had huge plans for a vege patch - I was so excited. Sadly the excitement diminished when I saw how expensive it was to buy soil to replace our barren sand.

2. Buy a new pair of shoes
I achieved this. Three times over. I will consider this a spectacular example of when goal setting goes well. Yay me.

3. Go on a holiday with Map Guy and Tricky
Check! Ten days in paradise with my boys was amazing.

4. Attend my Dad’s 60th birthday celebration and spoil him rotten with presents
We had a surprise dinner for my Dad's 60th. Because my mum didn't want to ruin the surprise, when he got dressed in shorts and a tshirt she didn't tell him to get changed, meaning he rocked up to the restaurant, where everyone else was nicely dressed, looking rather bogan. He was so embarrassed and I was furious at my Mum.

5. Start dancing lessons with Map Guy
Fail. It's a double fail because I bought us lessons and we never attended. And I wonder why I never have any fucking money!?!?

6. Expand Where’s My Glow?
When I wrote the goal list I had 106 followers on the widget and I wanted to get to 200. It ticked over to 600 just the other day. I know it's not a real indicator of success or anything, but I'm not going to lie, seeing that number makes me feel good.

7. Ask for help when I need it
Went back on medication, yaddah, yaddah, yaddah. I'm awesome.

8. Read and comment on more blogs
Half Fail. I did this for a long time. I would read and comment on every single post that was linked to FlogYoBlog Friday. And then a combination of working on the conference, getting a writing job, Tricky becoming an adventurous toddler and still wanting to have some semblance of life (combined with poor time management and kick ass procrastination) means I now hardly read any. Not even the ones I subscribe to. I am a bad, bad, blogger.

9. Get my hair done
Woo, I did this! That drag stripe was getting huge.

10. Cook more food from scratch
Just call me Martha. Quiches, slices, gingerbread, shortbread, and cake pops! I even made up my own recipe for Cheesecake and Oreo Macaroons because I was feeling smug.

11. Attend the Aussie Bloggers’ Conference
Ooooh yeah. And it was amazing. Almost time for the next one!

12. Clean out my kitchen cupboards
I did this twice. Surely I can cross something else off because I did this more than was necessary? C'mon, gimme a break!

13. Have a facial
Fail. I didn't even get a facial in Kota Kinabalu when it would have cost $3.50 for an hour. Shame on me for not exploiting a poor country and an awesome exchange rate.

14. Keep breastfeeding Tricky
I've considered weaning Tricks at least once a week for the past few months. But breastfeeding is bloody handy - it's so damn easy to comfort him when he falls, lull him to sleep if he's unwell, and gives me a moment to just sit and be with him. I don't want to be still feeding him when he's at school, that is a little much for me... but I don't know when he'll wean. He's a boob man, I don't see him giving it up without a fight.

15. Enter more competitions
Again this is one that I did for a while, then stopped doing, especially for blog competitions. I felt bad commenting on a blog that I hadn't been to for a while just to win a prize. "Oh hi! No I don't read your blog, but I'd love some free shit!"

16. See some amazing live music with Map Guy
Fail. I blame Perth for being so far away.

17. Clean out my wardrobe
Fail. Though I did technically do this... it morphed in to a floordrobe and that's how it's stayed for months and months. Piles of clean clothes on the floor of the bedroom and the (walk in) robe. How can I have so many clothes and bugger all to wear?

18. Hang photos up on the walls
Fail. Oh dear. Three in a row. What makes this worse is that the box of frames has been sitting in my kitchen for about 18 months now, gathering a thick layer of dust. I would dust them but going near them reminds me I haven't hung them up yet and makes me a sad panda.

19. Have a nice 1st birthday party for Tricky
It was brilliant. Including the cake I made that had people oohing and ahhing. Is it bad that looking back on that cake makes me swell with pride? I remember the cake more than the day... bad mama.

20. Write some poetry
Fail. Unless you consider a poorly written limerick that won me snow cone maker from Mrs Woog.

21. Spend some time in Albany so that Tricky gets more time with his rellies
We've made the six hour trek to Albany a few times in the past twelve months - Me, Map Guy, Tricky and a giant, farting dog. The last time we sung Old MacDonald for three hours and I was convinced that driving in to a tree would be less painful... until we passed a double fatality on the highway and realized a few hours of singing to entertain a bored toddler is NOTHING and I will do it again and again and again without (much) complaining.

22. Clean out the Man Cave (the study where Map Guy spends most of his time
Fail. Errr... kinda. Cleaned it out, moved the desk so it was almost empty and it became the 'guest bedroom' (if you can call a mattress on the floor a guest bedroom?) for when my inlaws stayed over. Then it became the laundry room which morphed in to the junk room. Which is how it is now but with the desk that was removed, crammed back in.

23. Lose weight
So technically I achieved this. Although it only really happened because I got extremely ill, lost the ability to swallow anything (including my own saliva) and wound up in hospital. BUT I'm going to hold on to it because after I lost it, I didn't gain it back and then lost a teeny little bit more too. YAY ME! Even though it goes past my birthday, I didn't put on any weight over Christmas for the first time ever. EVER!

24. Make a new friend
I have made lots of new friends in the past year, and as someone with a major psychiatric illness and an anxiety disorder this is HUGE.

25. Keep seeing a counselor (keep’s the craziness at bay)
Fail. Although, after the bullshit that happened with the last crackpot was declared me cured after four sessions that consisted of drawing a picture, telling her about my favourite childhood TV character and being told to have a lolly jar and dive in to it whenever I wanted to reconnect with my inner child (even though I was obese - What. The. Fuck?), I have given up for a while and am flying solo. This may prove to be my undoing, let's wait and see.

26. Go on a date with Map Guy
I know I did this... but I can't remember where we went. I think it was to the movies.

27. Be more assertive
I'm going to chalk this up as a success. I'm not great at it, but I'm getting better. I can even say no now... granted it's only in situations that don't matter and to people who I don't know but that's not the point. Baby steps.

28. Keep attending Mothers’ Group
Love my gals. Can't believe I ended up with a group of women who all get along so well. Now two of them are up the duff again I wonder how it's going to change our dynamic. Will we all keep meeting up or will life get in the way? I hope we keep meeting, it's something I look forward to every Friday.

29. Go swimming
I swam. Both in pools and the ocean (in Australia and Malaysia)... in front of people! This was actually a much bigger deal to me that I thought it would be. When I first published the list I mentioned I used to swim for a club... I didn't mention why I stopped though and blamed my lack of recent swimming on body issues. It ran a lot deeper than that, and now I'm going to be annoying and not tell you why because I'm not ready to. Sorry.

30. Plan a kick-ass 30th birthday party
Until two weeks before my birthday I wasn't going to have a party because we'd decided to go to Malaysia instead. But then I decided I cannot turn 30 and not have a little gathering, so we went to the beach for a sunset BBQ with about 20 friends and it was lovely. What was even more lovely was my awesome cake - proof that I've been baking from scratch more!

So there we have it. 20 out of 30 aint bad, right? Right???

Now, to make some new goals or not? Hrmmm.

Friday, January 20, 2012

FlogYoBlog Friday: The Wiggle War Edition

Toot toot, chugga chugga, big red knife in the back.

What could have been a triumphant return from sickness for Greg Wiggle has turned in to a PR nightmare after it was discovered Sam Wiggle had been shafted with bugger all notice. The PR Fail was clinched though with an awkward interview on the Today Show.

Here's an artist's rendition my understanding of where Sam is now:

Sam, mate, call your union Woman's Day, but for now, perhaps a little Flog will make you feel better?

Are you Team Sam or Team Greg?? Or Team I-Don't-Fucking-Care-As-Long-As-It-Keeps-My-Kids-Quiet-So-I-Can-Have-A-Hot-Fucking-Cup-Of-Tea?

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Of Twitter Haters and PR Fails

This post was going to be a standard Mummy Blogger post about how I got up at 5:30am the other day (alternatively known as the ass crack of the day, a time when no human should be awake) so Tricky could see the bus that Map Guy had hired for a bucks party. It was going to be warm and fuzzy and leave the females in the audience with aching ovaries at all the cuteness of an excited toddler's dreams coming true as a bus pulled in to our driveway and took him for a ride up and down the street.

But all that went flying out the window when I checked Twitter at our post-awesome-bus-trip breakfast on the edge of the Swan River and saw this:

Gee, tell me how you really feel.

So I had a look at Biker Vet's account, found out he followed fourteen people, had nine followers and tweeted mainly about bikes, the defense forces and bad PR. No other tweets anything like the one directed at me, so it obviously wasn't just a random hate account. Someone I know? An ex? A friend of a friend of a non-friend who's decided to be a super mature keyboard warrior, hiding behind a pseudonym?

I of course decided to take the moral high ground and not be caught up in it. Well, I would have, but it was much more fun to do this:

Which I think sorta upset him. Or perhaps it was the half dozen retweets of it? Or the tweets of others, like Super Daddy saying not only did he give a flying fuck but a rat's arse too. Love my tweeps!

He countered:

Riiight. So I'm a clueless, vacuous bimbo who needs to get a life, yet HE'S the one spending time sending hate tweets? The irony bubbled up around me and I went for a swim in it! Irony spa FTW!

But I'm thrilled to find out I apparently work in PR. Sending a few muesli bars and calling people Dear Blogger? I could totally do that, thanks Biker Vet for your encouragement to change careers!

By this stage a few people had noticed and were asking what I'd done to make this guy so cranky at me. I told them I had no idea and he was obviously watching my tweets because he replied:

And attached this photo with one name blocked out:

Yes, that's right. I did a reply all to @claytonwfu5y who had spammed us all (that account is now suspended because I always block and report spam) and for that, I am being called horrid names as if we're in a playground. And for the record, one of the others in the group, who understands what a reply all is, retweeted it.

Interestingly on Biker Vet's timeline he complains about clicking on a link that has now infected his email account... there is NO LINK in my tweet, I'm complaining about said link in my tweet, yet I'm the spammer?  Sheesh!

Just after that tweet I get an email from a newly created Biker Vet gmail account (a warning popped up that it was a new linked account) saying "This was posted to my business twitter account. It may not have come from you. Please confirm." with a copy of the same image with the name blocked out.

Ohhhh right, so he checked it was from me after calling me a clueless, vacuous bimbo? Way to jump the gun, Biker Vet.

So I assume (possibly making an "ass out of u and me", but hey, I'm gonna go with it) that the name blocked out is Biker Vet's business account that he mentions. I also assume that Biker Vet has no idea that I can find this out by a two second search of my own timeline. And voila, we have our answer.

Mr Biker Vet, you are unmasked... and I could spill the beans and tell the world (well a few thousand readers) who it was that was posting such crude comments about me, but I'm going to restrain myself for a few reasons, number one, because I don't want a barrage of readers to go to your website and give you traffic and number two, I won't be pulled in to a defamation lawsuit.

But I know who you are. So how about I click on over to your page and see what you do, shall we? Oh, look at that, you do personal training and... wait for it... PR! Can you say PR Fail?

I have replied to both tweet and email (cc-ing in his real email address that took a whole five seconds to find on his website), stating that it was a reply all to a spammer... and he's refusing to reply to me. Radio silence. Crickets chirping and tumbleweeds. Me thinks he's not so tough now that I know his real name?

So kudos, Biker Vet, for a massive PR Fail before your PR company is even off the ground.

What have we learned from this adventure? The internet is forever, everything is traceable, I'm now classed as Twitter Royalty for having a hater and my tweeps are awesome. The end.

I'm putting this to bed now. No Twitter flame wars on my behalf, thanks.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Shit Oz Bloggers Say

Behold, the awesomeness that is Styling You, Big Words, Baby Mac, WoogsWorld, Edenland and yours truly saying, well... shit.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel because we've got a LOT more shit to say, and follow the awesomeness on Twitter at @shtbloggerssay

Massive thanks to Nikki for orchestrating and Rob for editing our shenanigans.

Monday, January 16, 2012

10 Reasons Why I Don't Trust You

Trust. It's a strange thing, really, because if I trust you to take care of my house while I'm away it doesn't mean I trust you to borrow a treasured possession; if I trust you to look after my dog, it doesn't mean I'd trust you to look after my kid; If I trust you to look after my kid it doesn't mean I'd trust you enough to be a confidante. Trust in one area doesn't automatically generate trust in another, just as lack of trust in one doesn't necessarily mean lack of trust in others. That's getting a little too philosophical, so let's just get on with the rant.

I'd like to preface this post with a little note: These are all from personal experience so if you think I'm talking about you... I probably am. Best you know though, right?

1. You drink/take drugs and drive. I could care less what you do in your own time, but the second you get in a car when you're under the influence, I have lost all respect for you. If you're planning a road trip and promise me you won't drive stoned while my loved ones are in the car with you, and then blaze up at the first truck stop... well, there's not much you can do to redeem yourself from that.

2. All conversations are a way for you to bitch about someone behind their back. I'm not stupid you know, if you bitch about everyone else then it's pretty much guaranteed you're bitching about me too. So I won't tell you anything of consequence because I know you'll twist it and before the week is done the woman down the road's step-son's cousin knows.

3. You blatantly lie to your fiance in front of me about something so huge that affects both of your lives, then give me that look that says "shhh, don't tell". You've just brought me in to your lie, you schmuck. If you want to screw up your own future, do it, but don't make me the bad guy who either did or didn't keep your secret.

4. Your emails/tweets/blog posts are full of simple spelling mistakes but then you pull out words like "crwth" and "tsktsks" on Words with Friends to beat me. YOU CHEAT! No more Words with Friends for you!

5. You suggest the perfect wedding gift for Map Guy would be for you to sleep with him because he had a crush on you a few years before he met me. I'm sorry, what fucking planet are you from? Are kitchen appliances too passe these days that we have to give sexual favours?

6. You've barely spoken to me for more than five minutes over four and a half years while you swan around, flying business class back and forth around the world, then pop up asking to borrow a large sum of money. You can't just decide to be friends when you want something.

7. I loaned you my most amazing, most expensive reference book that I paid a shed load of money for... and you left the country. Do they not have a postal service in the UK so you could send it back? I miss my beautiful book and it's making me a sad panda.

8. You tell me bum doesn't look big in these pants when it's blatantly obvious I look like a whale in spandex. 

9. You sleep with your mate's wife. This is particularly scummy if it's done approximately one week after having a giant, albeit slightly drunken, conversation with myself and said mate about the importance of fidelity. It reaches the height of douchedom (is too a word) when you do it in the next room while your mate sleeps. Not cool. Not cool at all.

10. You sleep with your husband's mate. See above for further info.

Why don't you trust someone?

Friday, January 13, 2012

FlogYoBlog Friday: The Friggatriskaidekaphobia Edition

Hey Flogstars!

Today is Friday the 13th *insert howling wolf noise here* and to celebrate I have gone and made myself look all purdy scary for you.

How are the boys/wherewolves/vampires/zombies
not falling over themselves to get to me?

OK so I cheated. For Easter I actually used makeup but today I'm cheating because, as always, there's an app for that (iAmZombie - it's free if you're wondering).

Go and make yourself in to a Zombie and upload your image to the Where's My Glow? Facebook page for a bit of Friday the 13th shenanigans.

But for now, let's Flog, Zombies!

How to FlogYoBlog
  1. Follow Where's My Glow?
  2. Bow down at the alter of Mummy Time; Blog-goddess, all round groovy gal and creator of FYBF
  3. Grab the FYBF button and post it on your sidebar or in the post you're linking up
  4. Link in your favourite/best post from the week (don't just put your homepage URL)
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger then be nice and spread the comment love

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Help a Heart

Yesterday I was contacted by Julie from Natural Transition, asking me if I could help her out by sharing a story will you.

You might remember I wrote about her awesome stuff a while back when she sponsored me to go to Blogopolis. Don't remember? It's OK, you can read now. Ima wait right here for you.

You back? Good, let's continue. Last week Julie posted about a young mum, Jane, who needs our help. Her five year old daughter, Jasmine, needs life saving heart surgery... surgery that has been cancelled twice already and is putting extra emotional and financial stress on the family.

Heart conditions are very close to my, err, heart, so I jumped at the chance to help. My sister was born with congenital heart disease and thirty years later my Dad developed heart disease after contracting a virus. So whilst I don't know what it's like to experience heart disease, I know just how devastating it can be to live through it as a family member suffers.

If you click on the image below you can read more about Jane and Jasmine and how their good friend Rosie is trying to raise some money to support them through their journey.

If you'd like to leave a message of support, that will be printed out and sent to Jane, you can do so in the comments section on the post at Natural Transition or below.

We need your help to spread the message, so if you  have a moment, show a young mum the power of social media and share this on Twitter and Facebook.

Go on, you know you want to - you'll feel good about yourself!

Monday, January 9, 2012

How to have fun at the tennis without actually watching any tennis

Every year Perth hosts a mixed teams tennis event, the Hopman Cup. I used to go every session because I worked there... as a ball kid. Yes, I held the unpaid position that could have been done by a labrador with the promise of a liver treat.

I hadn't been in years so last week, after seeing my Twitter stream full of tennis talk, I decided to schlep my non-sporty ass back to The Dome and this was the result:

Follow @RealJiveTurkey on Twitter and check out his hilarious blog The Armory

Saturday, January 7, 2012

When Tricky met Mickey - Disney Live Review

Hey Mickey, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Mickey! Hey Mickey!

Now that I've successfully put that song in your head let's get on with it.

Tricky and I were lucky enough to be invited to see Mickey's Music Festival last week when it came to Perth and it was AMAZING.

I remember seeing a Disney show when I was about five. I loved every minute of it and remember that magical feeling of being so close to some of the coolest people in the world (anthropomorphic mice and ducks are people too) and really wanted Tricky to experience it. Although if I'm entirely honest I would probably still have gone if Tricky wasn't around, just because Mickey is so damn cool.

I was really excited to be taking Tricky... well excited and nervous. I was petrified he'd be "that child". You know, the one who screams for the first 15 minutes until the flustered mother picks them up under her arm and walks out? Yeah that one.

When we arrived, the crowd made him uneasy and he morphed in to Velcro Toddler. There were a few tears when the music started because it was really loud. It was even a little loud for me, but I am an oldie now, so I suppose I shall have to get used to it, turn my hearing aids down and get ready to poke someone with my walking stick.

All the gang were there, even Bullseye who managed to jump rope!

 And Ursula (my favourite Disney villain!) rocked her tentacles to steal Ariel's voice:

We were lucky enough to get a meet and greet with Mickey and Minnie after the show. In line Tricky was pointing and lunging forward to try and get closer to them... when it was our turn as soon as we stepped forward and Mickey waved to him he cried! I can't blame the kid though, a lot of things are scary up close: Mickey, Santa, barking dogs, my face, etc.

He calmed down quickly and though he didn't manage a smile (no surprises there), we did get a great photo.

My favourite part of the day though was seeing the other kids around me, especially my friend's son Harry, get so excited about seeing their favourite characters. Hearing Harry call out and wave to "Jethie" and Woody to get their attention and then go completely mental and shout "BUUUUZZZZZ! BUUUUUZZZZZZZZ!" as his hero walked on stage... it was brilliant. I am SUCH a sap. 

If you'd like to see the show as it tours Australia, check out their website for ticket details (careful, it has auto playing sound!).

*I was not paid to write this post. I did receive complimentary tickets to the show*

Friday, January 6, 2012

FlogYoBlog Friday: The Comic Strip Edition

Click for a larger image

How to FlogYoBlog
  1. Follow Where's My Glow?
  2. Bow down at the alter of Mummy Time; Blog-goddess, all round groovy gal and creator of FYBF
  3. Grab the FYBF button and post it on your sidebar or in the post you're linking up
  4. Link in your favourite/best post from the week (don't just put your homepage URL)
  5. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger then be nice and spread the comment love

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

How to completely suck at being a craft blogger

1. Find craft rather annoying
I don't do craft. Which is strange because I've always been slightly quirky and creative (read: weird). I see things and somehow know how they're put together and can recreate them... if I could be bothered. Most of the time, I have no inclination to flex my creative muscles. I see crafty things and I immediately think it's a boring, energy sapping, messy, waste of time (do not get me started on scrapbooking, I just don't understand it). Time I could spend doing much more productive things like faffing around on Twitter for example.

2. Be confused by Pinterest
I also don't do Pinterest (unless I'm trying to keep tattoo ideas in one place) and have no idea what it means to follow someone on Pinterest or how on earth I have so many followers and how people say they could get lost for hours 'pinning'. I can't even link you to my page here because I HAVE NO IDEA which page is mine.

3. Don't own any craft supplies
Because I reserve the right to completely contradict myself, the other day I looked at Pinterest, saw an image and thought I MUST DO THAT! I was so inspired by the simplicity that I was just itching to give it a whirl so I ran out and bought some high quality supplies from the Reject Shop because if I screwed it up I didn't want to be out of pocket by much.

3. Burn yourself terribly and scream so loudly the neigbours hear
I'm now the proud owner of a glue gun and some serious welts to match - who knew that what goes in the chamber leaks out when you turn it upside down, hey? Gravity, you are a bitch! Also, when you spill melted wax all over yourself there is NOTHING you can do other than wait for it to cool down. On the upside, I can now go on a crime spree without fear of repercussions because I no longer have fingerprints.

4. Forget to take photos so there is no step by step instructions
I did have my camera next to me, I promise. But having hands dripping in melted wax meant there was bugger all chance of me picking it up.

So what the hell did I make??? Well I got these:

Ran them through this:

And got this:
 And this:

So, how do you make your own drippy, waxy, fingerprint destroying rainbow canvas? Easy: a) unwrap crayons, b) shove crayon in glue chamber, c) push through with your thumb and then the nearest pokey-thing you can grab such as a chopstick, d) burn the shit out of your hand, e) splatter wax on your kitchen bench, f) marvel at how freaking cool the finished product looks and how awesome you are, g) go and pin your own images!

Are you crafty? Or is the only craft you're interested in a movie with a whiney Neve Campbell?


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