Remember that academic overload I told you about ages ago? Well, I think it's trying to kill me.
I knew when I took it on that it would be tough; what I didn't know was that the Internship was going to see me with a monster project. By monster I mean something that on average takes someone who knows what they are doing 3-6 months from Go! to Whoa! - and I got 6 weeks. It's been tough, but it has also been a great learning experience. And I had fun, mostly.
In other news, things have been a bit - interesting. I totally lost the plot the other week, I went on a crying/yelling jag, that saw my son tell me that it was like the lights were on, but no-one was home, there was no getting through to me. I scared him and my husband very badly that day. I didn't scare me, I don't remember it. Although from what they tell me, I would have been scared. Somehow, I am inclined to agree - I have blown a fuse once before - I scared my parents that day - and they didn't scare easy. I felt the switch being thrown (like a circuit breaker in my head being flipped) and then, nothing, until I came back to myself, sitting int he middle of the living room, feeling emotionally and physically drained.
What I do know is that since that day, I have been feeling like I am on a much more even keel - a lot of mental and emotional cobwebs got cleared out. And those who I need support from finally realised that I wasn't exaggerating - I really AM that much of a mess. My psychologist tells me that while the meltdown may have scared the bejabbers out of others, for me it was good, it released a lot of stress.
Not a whole lot happening on the getting out of here front - all the stuff we look at is utterly terrible - I wouldn't put the dog in some of them! What irks me is that I ask if there is anything at all wrong, I list the things that could be wrong, and get told that it's all fine - only to find that people have lied, after a 5 hour drive.
This must sound like a real downer post, but it's actually not - I am finally in a better place - I slipped over the edge of the abyss, and I managed to crawl back out - now I need to start moving towards the light. 1 step at a time..............
School is Hell on legs at the moment. I have 2 huge assignments due - both real world projects, 1 will be instrumental in the implementation of a reserve management plan, the other, we shall see. And something like 4 others, and 3 presentations. Or something like that.
Looks like we will be island-hopping to get a caravan. When we find time.
In other news, I want these. And it's all Ania's fault.
Well, the hairdresser did. It was giving me the irrits, with being dry and tangly. So it had to go.
I had no qualms, and I have no regrets. Cutting off my hair was a symbolic move, as well as a practical one - I am letting go of the things that hold me back (not that my hair did, but it annoyed me, so same diff), and moving on.
The stress is nothing new - it's the start of a new Semester, and I always get stressed when things start in earnest. A few days away with The Mister will hopefully help. Mind you, I am taking my study gear with me.
Clarification: I wanted to clear up what I was talking about in my last post. I know that there are people out there who, due to the incredibly high housing costs (and power costs), would struggle to pay their mortgages on the Masterchef 'wage'.
I in no way meant to promote myself as a paragon of thrift - the only kind of thrift I am is a spendthrift - if I have it, I spend it. Nor did I mean to put down those who would struggle, due to the aforementioned costs.
My argument was with the guy who complained - he got a great experience and he, and anyone else on the show HAD to know going in how much they were going to get - unless they didn't read the contract they signed. If it was going to be too tight to maintain Real Life necessities, why would you do it?
So please, know that I meant nothing nasty by what I said - at least, not to anyone except the MC evictee. For him, I stand by my original thought - stop whining, you went in with your eyes open, you got a great experience, now get on with life.
A recently evicted Master Chef Australia contender complained in the media that the contestants were paid only $500 a week. They were accommodated, fed, and were offered a great opportunity to learn. And paid for it, although not enough, apparently.
While the evictee said "I was ok, but imagine someone else doing that......' it does not excuse the whiny attitude. There are people out there, in the Great Southern Land, who make do on way less than the average weekly wage ($589 in case you wanted to know). I am one of them. I get $300 per week, and out of that, I pay rent, power, gas, phone, food, medication, transport, Uni supplies, internet, clothing - and feed the dog. And I survive.
Yes, many of the contestants come from mainland areas, where mortgage/rent rates are higher, but if you can't survive on $500 per week, while you aren't paying bills, or feeding yourself, then you are really in need of a wake-up call. Because, if you don't have a job to go back to, when you leave the show, you are coming into a world where you get far less than what you are now, and have a lot higher overheads to deal with.
Take a leaf out of Polly & Waz' (another reality TV couple) book, and enjoy the experience - learn what you can, and take it out into the world with you, as you head out on the next stage of your journey. But you will have to grow up quick, because it's tough out here.
............. or rather, moving forward; it can be tough. But we all have to do it at some stage.
I think I have held on to a lot of angst from my early years far too long. It is time to let it go. My husband tells me ALL THE TIME that I have to do just that - what he forgets is that, at the age when everyone else typically spends a few years sorting their heads out, I was raising a family - I never got that 'me' time. So it's taken me a bit longer to get there.
I am here now, and I am finally letting go. I have said 'Sod you!' to all the people who have used me, hurt me, or neglected me, and let them go. This includes family members. It's time for me. And by the Dickens, I intend to make the most of it!
For me, it's sunset. There are 2 main reasons for this:
1. It's prettier.
2. I don't have to get out of bed disgustingly early to see it.
Don't get me wrong, sunrises are pretty awesome too; they carry the promise of a fresh start, and the birdsong at sunrise is amazing. But, for now, I will maintain my preference for sunsets.
Take a look at these pics at the LiveScience - sunsets, sunrises, eclipses, and solar flares are all included. And some of the sunrises are pretty spectacular. But not enough to warrant me freezing my butt off to see them.
It's really not. And no matter how you slice it, it's not going to change. And yes, I'm pissed. Or offended. Or both.
Yesterdayday, I was perusing one of my fave blogs, and the author was writing about a person who remarked on her appearance. Here is what she said:
I was walking into school today wearing this very outfit when I was stopped by a rather large Tongan guy handing out fliers for the school's dance this weekend. He said, "Ooooh girl I like your style (insert the hand gesture of an hourglass figure here), what's your name? Where are you from? Please say you are coming to the dance to dance with me.'
She identifies the man's nationality - and apparently, that's racism. A commenter says:
First let me say that I really like your blog and I read it everyday in my Google Reader. However, when you tell this story and you use a racial identifier it seems prejudicial especially since it didn't or shouldn't have had anything to do with the point of the story. Now, if you were talking to someone on campus who might have known said guy and needed an identifier to pick out which guy it was that thought you were hot, it would have been appropriate, but in this forum it's not.
I'm not writing this to say that you are a bad person in anyway, just letting you know that as a minority it's things like this that get you a little miffed. Had the guy been white, I doubt you would have said "this white guy". I'm telling you just to "drop some knowledge", JIC you don't accidentally offend anyone. I know I cringe when someone tells me a story and says, "this black girl" or "this black guy", if there is no need for it in the story.
Now, I am all about stamping out racism and racial vilification. But it works both ways here people. She didn't say 'black, purple, or green guy'. She said Tongan - she identified his country of origin. If she had said English, Canadian or French, would she have been told off in the same way?
Of course not. Because then it wouldn't have been about race - because his skin colour would not have been an obvious thing for someone to pick on as a means of being vindictive.The commenter says that as a member of a minority, these things leave you miffed - what things? The author didn't racially vilify or even identify the guy - there are people of Caucasian descent in the South Pacific - who is to say he wasn't of European appearance, and a resident of the island of Tonga?
The commenter advises the author to 'drop some knowledge', so as not to offend anyone. I would say to this person, 'Take your own advice!' Nationality is one thing, race is another, and you need to learn the difference, before you go around attacking people with your ignorance.
Of late, many of my posts have been ranty or negative. This is a pattern that I have to end. So, today is the final chapter in my misery saga. Because I feel I owe an explanation of where my head has been, and where all that crap came from, I'm going to tell you something painful.
My husband is dying. No-one can explain why, nor can they stop it. It's a genetic fault, and nothing can be done. His heart is failing, and will continue to do so, until he has a monster heart attack. Then it's all over.
We have been grieving, and it has been truly hard. When he was working, he would head out the door at all hours of the day or night, to who-knew-where, and it was a case of wait and see if he came home. That was easier to deal with, in a weird way - if it happened, it was the luck of the draw.
This is different - we know it is going to happen, we just don't know when. There is no way around it, no bullets to dodge. It's in him, and it's with us every damn day. We can do nothing but wait.
Frustration runs rampant - for both of us. Our future plans have been changed, not all in a bad way. We view the past, and while we see the good times, we also see the wasted time. That is what drives the frustration, anger and fear.
So, from now on, no more negativity. It is what it is, and I just have to deal with it.
Remember a little while ago, when I said I had 1 intensive unit, and 1 13 week unit for the remainder of the year? Well, I kinda fibbed. I was telling the truth at the time, but, well, these other options were presented, so I jumped on them. But I need more room for electives.
Now, after promising myself a cruisy Semester 2, I am doing a Policy unit, the intensive unit (Community Development), a unit where I go to forums/talks at the Uni, and analyse them, work placement, and an 8 day intensive field work unit. If I had room, I'd do an environmental management one too, another 8-dayer, in January.
What is wrong with me? Well, for starters, I am bored. I am at the end of my first week of 3 off, and I am bored spitless - I need to be using my brain. Or sleeping. Mmmmm, sleep...........
'twas a dark night, on a deserted road - we were heading to a free camping spot. It was almost midnight. We were feeling pretty good, we'd had dinner with the kids, and seen a band, and were generally feeling pretty relaxed.
Until the lights went out. One minute we're driving down a gravel road, watching for wildlife in the hi-beams, the next, it's pitch dark, and we can smell burning electrics. Cue the end of good cheer.
We sat on the side of the road for 10 minutes, cursing, swearing and trying to work out what exactly had fried, before we got lights back, sort of. Very weak, and stinky, but there. They got us to a gravel carpark, at a council works depot, where we crawled in the back and tried to sleep.
5.30 a.m., and the sound of car doors rouses us from our snooze - the workers are arriving. Crawl out of the car, look around. The workers didn't give us a second look, until one chap wandered over as we performed a daylight inspection of under-bonnet wiring. He recommended us a mechanic, and off we went.
Long story short - $160, countless coffees and 4 hours later, we had the problem fixed. We were lucky that was all we copped, someone (previous owner?) put 100w globes in a fitting rated for 55w, and it fried some of the wiring, when it overheated through extended use (we used the hi-beams for 30 minutes, their longest run since we got the car).
While it wasn't something we viewed happily at the time, I think in the end it proved that we WILL be alright when we get out there, for real. We had a disaster, and we coped, without killing each other. Go us!
......... be they an annoying 2 year old, or a sleep in on a Sunday. You don't realise how much a part of your life these things are, until they aren't there for a time, and then come back.
Today, for the first time in almost 12 months, the husband and I got to sleep in. We slept til 10, an unheard of luxury, then had breakfast and read the paper - in bed! In peace. This is how our lives were meant to be, at this stage of our existence.
As glorious as this morning was, I find myself hanging out for the return of the annoying 2 year old. Not the annoying part, but the cute part. 7 a.m. demands for breakfast? Not a happy thought. Tired, cranky baby fighting to stay up at 10-11 p.m.? Lord preserve me (he rules his father with a tiny iron fist). The demand that Nanna pick him up for a cuddle and kiss? That I can handle.
What I hope is that his mother has grown up (and not before time) and we can continue the overnights - once or twice a fortnight, to give his grandfather and I some breathing space. We love him dearly, and he is gorgeous, but we are not mentally or emotionally equipped to handle a 2 year old for 12-14 hours a day anymore. We need our sleep.We are old.
Bachelor of Regional Resource Management. Majors in Regional Science (compulsory) and Natural Resource Management (my choice of the 4 offered). Minor: Understanding Communities (compulsory).
Why? Because it didn't sound dry, and like it was all black and white. I have a thing for wanting to know what's over there, and in this degree, going to have a look is encouraged.
So far, I have maintained a Distinction (80/100) through the 9 units I have done (degree is 24). I am studying part-time because I don't drive, and a large percentage of the units I need to do are restricted in when/how they are offered.
My electives (I get 4), have all been Antarctic related - Antarctic Studies A & B, Antarctic Tourism, and Antarctic and Oceans Policy. I have had a blast doing these.
Where do I hope to end up? I have no idea, or plans. My plan was to kill time, and to prove to myself that I am indeed capable of gaining a degree. Beyond that, no plans, except to have fun getting to graduation.
Have you ever had a dream where the objects and people are so real you can not only see and hear them, but taste, feel and smell them? Changes in ambient temperature in the environment you inhabit in your dream world are so real, you feel them, be it blistering cold, or blasting heat. The colours are crisp and real, and you are there, in that world, even though you know, on some level, that you aren't?
These are no ordinary dreams, they are real, so real that even though you are jumping between being IN the dream, and then watching the action, you know that the things happening are actually occurring, somewhere. Good, bad or indifferent, they are happening, on some plane, and you are there.
Often, these dreams don't stay with you after you wake - the feelings they invoked may, and a general sense of unease, or happiness, but the bulk of the dream will fade. In my experience of late, this is probably a good thing.
I have never had one of these dreams interpreted. I know what the ones I am having of late mean, and where they come from. Are they happening, in some other realm? Maybe. Most probably they are my brain's way of dealing with the things that aren't a dream, that I wish were, in a non-confronting way. A blow-off valve, built into my subconscious, to allow me to continue to function.
I much prefer the dreams that involve warm temperatures, and happy feelings. Hopefully they will return soon.
So much contradiction....... so many twists, turns, and yes, buts...............
That could just be International Law, but somehow I don't think so. Obviously, you need a fantastic brain, with a level of mental agility similar to or exceeding the physical agility of a cat, to survive Law school.
I have 2,550 words of my 3,000 word assignment, and I have no idea if any of it makes sense. And right now, I don't care! It's *only* worth 40% of my mark..................
That is how I would describe this picture. The decay is horrific, as is the waste - a beautiful building, which cost many hours of blood, sweat and tears, not to mention dollars, left to rot. And yet, even though the paint is peeling, the walls are buckling, and carpet is rotting, there is something majestic about it. In some ways, I think this sad majesty actually increases, or rather enhances, the beauty of the room.
Original picture, and other abandoned theatres here.
We watched the movie I am number 4 the other night. I can't remember much, other than a teenager who was an alien, being hunted by other aliens. And he developed kick-butt telepathic powers, right as he fell for this chick;
and that's about all I can tell you. Because every time Dianna Agron came on the screen, I was so busy thinking "Oh, she looks so much like Ashley! I can really see Ashley wearing that outfit." or something similar.
So who is Ashley? She has a gorgeous blogI Believe in Unicorns, and is a super cute, smart and sweet young lady who graduated from ASU yesterday. Not to mention, rather stylish, and, I suspect, a lot of fun to hang out with.
It's tied with Spring as my favourite season. I love the spring-time because it's all when the trees start to bud, the birds start to come back, and the promise of warm weather is in the air.
This is one of the things I love about Autumn:
How pretty are those trees?
The other thing I like about this time of year is the change in the air. I despise rainy, windy weather. Snow is NOT my idea of fun. But, give me a crisp day with little or no wind, and I am a happy woman.
There is something in the air in Autumn that makes my heart sing. I don't know what it is, but it's there - it's happened in both hemispheres. I wasn't even aware that Autumn (or Fall, as my Nevada friends call it) had officially started, but I knew that it had unofficially, simply by the way I felt.
How cool is this picture? I saw it the other day on my way to an appointment, and had to take a picture of it. I often walk past the house in question, and have wondered many times what on Earth are they doing?! Well, now I know. I can't wait to see the end result.
I love that this was put up to emphasise the history of the house. Tasmania is full of historical buildings, but those which attract attention are often those which were convict built. Don't get me wrong, I find those both amazing, and heartbreakingly sad. But I think that an acknowledgment of an 'ordinary' building is a great step forward in the appreciation of our history.
Another fine example of our history - bricks laid in the footpath at Campbell Town, listing the convicts who resided in the area - the ship they came on, the crime they were transported for, length of sentence and what they did after arrival.
There are so many places here where history is just around the corner, but these are 2 great examples of how it can be made more readily accessible to everyone. And I think they are fabulous. And fascinating.
Yesterday morning, as I handed my husband his coffee, I glanced at his computer screen, and did a huge double take. He had the news page up, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing - Morgan from MVD on the Australian news! My first thought was "Oh wow, Morgan's on the news!" My second was "Oooh, I like her hair that way."
Closer inspection showed that it wasn't Morgan (bugger!) but Eva Longoria. And then it hit me, how much Eva looks like Morgan, especially when she smiles.
Some of this resemblance is probably down to the fact that both are gorgeous, petite brunettes with kick-arse style, but the main thing is they have the same smile. Seriously, every time I see a picture of either one smiling, I feel happy, and smile right along with them. One day, I am going to meet Morgan, for real. Because, as cool as it would be to meet a a Hollywood star, I think it would be even cooler to meet Morgan, because she is so much a part of my life, even though we have never met in person, and our lives are polar opposites (Eva's life could be no more different to mine than Morgan's is).
So there we have it - the Morgan/Eva connection. I live in hope that one day, Morgan WILL appear on the news page, but hopefully not on Letterman, with a wardrobe malfunction.
The movie, Once Were Warriors, was based on Book 1 of a trilogy by Alan Duff; Once Were Warriors, What Becomes of the Broken Hearted, and Jake's Long Shadow.
The books (and the 2 movies that were made), follow the Heke family, their all too rare ups, and frequent, often violent, downs.
The Heke's are a family of proud Maori descent, living in cheap Government housing, in a rough part of town. The man of the house, Jake, aka Jake the Muss, struggles to find work, and spends considerable time and money, drinking. His wife is the usual target of his violent rages, which see her unable to leave the house, their kids cowering in corners, and friends turning a blind eye.
There are some pretty horrific scenes in this movie, it's not something I would recommend for sensitive souls. I read the book before I saw the movie, knew what to expect, and I was still utterly devastated.
I think part of that goes back to when I was growing up. The drinking, poverty and violence the Heke family lived with were all too familiar. The town I grew up in was small and poor, drinking was a fact of life, and the violence that often ensued as a result, accepted as the way things went.
To be fair, violence was not something that happened or was accepted in my parent's home. Drinking was. Poverty was our bedfellow. We had close family who endured beatings and worse at the hands of loved ones. And no-one did anything. Because that was the way things were, how they had been for years, and how they would (and do) remain.
Much of this occurred on Dad's side; he had many brothers, and only 3 sisters. He was the youngest, and the older boys were not above reminding him of that, should he 'step out of line' as it were. Mum had only 2 brothers. One of those had an - interesting - marriage, it wasn't uncommon for their children to turn up on our doorstep, or Nan's in the middle of the night.
What does this have to do with the Heke's? Not a lot. I will say though, I saw many, many Jakes as I was growing up. Men who had lost their sense of selfworth, and their identity, and took solace in a bottle, only to have their frustrations resurface, to be directed at their wife and kids in the form of violence.
That is what Jake the Muss taught me - that understanding someone's pain, and their sense of loss, does not preclude you from despising their actions. You can do both. And wonder at yourself for doing so.
We all have them, even the woefully unstylish amongst us (that would be me). Audrey Hepburn is one of the most iconic, and universally adored. Jacki Kennedy Onassis is another.
While these women were very stylish, and extremely classy, they were/are a bit - bland - for my more exuberant tastes. I think Carla whats-it (French PM's wife and former model), who is often compared to Jackie O, and Princess Mary of Denmark are very well-dressed, and classy. But they are also playing within the lines of what is expected. I like unexpected.
Which is why I adore Kirsten Vangsness' sense of style, both on and off-screen. She rocks everything she wears, breaks rules, makes new ones, and doesn't seem to care what others think - she clearly has fun with her style, and dresses for herself.
I also adore Dita von Teese' style - vintage femme. Like Ms Vangsness, she has found a look that works for her, and who she is, and goes with it, always.
Not everyone can pull off the looks that these women do - I couldn't do either. Both take a lot of confidence, and a damn sight more 'I don't care' than I have. And I think they are fabulous.
The state I live in is broke. Actually, in debt to the tune of $AUD1billion. For a population of less than 500,000 people. Our hospitals are falling down, physically and in terms of patient care, people are sleeping in parks in ever increasing numbers, crimes go unsolved as police numbers are reduced, and schools are struggling to maintain educational standards.
So what does our government do, in their infinite wisdom? They decide that as of next year, they will spend between $400,000 and $600,000 to bring a second Aussie Rules team to play 2 or 3 matches a season here. We already have Hawthorn, at a cost of $18million over the last 5 years, not including junkets and advertising. That's $4million into club coffers, for a couple of games a year, in the North East.
North Melbourne, should this deal come off, will play in the South East, in the state capital. There are no numbers yet about how much they have been offered to come here - the figures released thus far are per-game costs.
Yes, they have a vision, our government. I'm just not sure what it is. And some days I wonder if they know themselves.
......... probably one of the laziest people you could ever meet.
I read on Meet Virginia, that if it wasn't for her blog being a style blog, she wouldn't bother getting 'dressed', she'd go for comfort. Because she is lazy, apparently.
Now, this made me feel a bit better, this woman has amazing style, and from what I can see, a wardrobe to match, is cute as a button, and if she didn't have to get in front of a camera every day, wouldn't bother making the effort. If someone that cute and stylish has those days, I guess I can too.
Now, I am not totally bone idle. I do my housework, I cook. I even do laundry. And, when I can be bothered, I study. I also walk a minimum of 10km (6 miles) a day, and do weight work every second. So I am not totally sedentary.
The laziness is more of the mental variety than the physical - I just cannot be bothered, so I don't. I actually think my main problem is lack of inspiration............... where to find some of that? Oh, and clothes to match it.
Yeah, that would be good - except I would have to go shopping. And of course, I can't be bothered.
I broke my big toe, and dislocated my thumb. Right foot, right hand. At the same time, in the same incident.
This is not the first time I have managed something this clever, I once broke my little toe, and dislocated my pinky. Right foot, right hand. Same time. Same incident.
Oddly, as sore as my toe was initially, it's my thumb that is giving me the most grief. Which is odd when you consider I walk 10km (6miles) or more every single day. But, there it is, now the swelling is gone, or at least mostly gone, my toe is good, unless I kick it. Then I cry. Right after I swear. A lot.
Seriously. Get. a. goddamn. dictionary. And use it. Because all the atrocious spelling I have seen today is giving me a headache.
We have 'shammee' on a carwash - because 'chamois' is too hard for people to work out what it means/how to say it. I asked.
Expresso - I may let this one slide, as it IS a marketing tool. Tomorrow. Today, it needs fixing.
One does not 'loge' a tax return. You 'lodge' it. Or find an accountant who knows how to proof-read their business cards/signs.
No-one in their right mind is going to hire a 'secetary'. They would much rather a 'secretary', of this I am sure.
And if you can get a ship to set 'sale' well, more power to you - me, I thought they set 'sail' and a 'sale was where you saved bucketloads of money on everyday prices. Although, given the prices here as opposed to there, maybe 'sale' is an appropriate spelling.....
Now, before anyone (is there anyone?) reading this starts in with the vitriol, I am NOT referring to bloggers, FaceBookers, or anyone else out there who is simply typing things for their own pleasure. All of these errors were spotted on businesses around town. And. they. piss. me. off. Because image is everything in attracting new business, this place is going backwards, and these types of glaring errors are part of the reason.
And yes, I do make spelling mistakes/typos. I admit that. I correct what I catch. But I am doing this for myself, not to get someone to give me their money. Although, if someone wanted to give me money for writing my blog, I'd take it ;)
Didn't learn anything I didn't already know at the psychologists, but that's not why I am going. I am going to learn how to put what I know into practice, to save my sanity, and quite possibly my marriage. Seriously, how on Earth we aren't divorced yet is beyond me!
Yes, but the jeans, what about the jeans?! I hear you, so here's the scoop.
In recent months I have lost a lot of weight - a LOT - from around 80kg 18 months ago down to 60kg - a size 16 to a size 8-10. I know this because all the clothes I owned were/are falling off. A wee detour on the way home today scored me a pair of size 8 jeans, and a pair of size 9's too. So not only do I have the first jeans I have owned in............. a very long time, they are size 8's (and a 9, but we're going with 8 because it sounds so much cooler, being the size I was some 22 years ago - pre-children).
Best bit? The 2 pairs together, in extraordinarily good order, cost me a massive $10. That's 1/6 of the cheaper pair's retail price. Another good bit was hubby's approval as I showed them off when I got home.......
I am a cynic. We all know this. And yet, I fully believe that the Samaritans will win out in the end. Even though they are outnumbered. Because, no matter how messed up things get, there is that vital core of human beings who believe in doing what is right.
Case in point: yesterday, on a stretch of ocean highway, coming home from Uni - husband driving. Round a long sweeping bend to see debris all over the road, and a damaged car rolling backwards, facing the wrong way. about 300m in front of us. Not good.
We pulled up, as did the car behind us. We got the driver, a 19 year old woman, out of the car (she was getting out herself, even before we got to her) and to the safety of the other side of the road. Rang police and an ambulance. Gave her my jacket, as she was shivering, and no-one else had anything.
As we stood waiting for the police/ambo to turn up, we watched traffic on the stretch of road leading to the accident site - they HAD to see the car parked on the shoulder, with it's hazards on (ours) as they came out of the corner; they HAD to see the debris all over the road (one lane was particularly bad), they HAD to see the second car on the shoulder near the accident site, as well as the damaged car, and 5 people standing on the side of the road. And yet, they came flying up the blocked lane, to the point where there were 6 near-misses for crashes, and 1 did actually impact.
The drivers of the cars in question got out and started yelling at each other. In the middle of the highway, with traffic and mess everywhere. Then the Law arrived. Which was a good thing in more ways than 1, not only was I terrified that someone was going to fly around the corner and kill us all, I was sick of the people who were going past yelling at us to clean up the road.
The debris was from a flat-tray that lost part of it's load - another driver saw it spewing stuff all over the highway, got the rego, and came back around onto our side of the carriageway to tell the police.
In this instance, there were more arsehats than Samaritans. But, those who stopped, did so from genuine concern for another human being. That's why I think the Samaritans will win. Because they are still out there, and the arsehats can't beat them all.
Don't yell at me! This is a perfectly legitimate idea. You just have to hear me out.
By trees I mean willow trees - they clog our waterways, and are a pest. Removal allows for natives to grow, creates habitat for wildlife (willows aren't great for Australian native animals), and frees up massive water resources.
Removal is time consuming and costly.There is a way around this.
We have Work-for-the-Dole (unemployment benefit), and Green Corps (unemployed under-25's), who are routinely sent out to work on 'community projects'. They get paid extra (not a lot, but extra) to do this - let's get them into willow removal. We will be giving them skills that will stand in good stead, particularly in Tasmania, as water resources become even more valuable. And it will be long-term work - willows are NOT easy to get rid of.
I think I have mentioned here before that I am at university. Studying to gain my Bachelor of Regional Resource Management, with Majors in Regional Science and Natural Resource Management, and a Minor in Understanding Communities.
I always wanted to go to Uni - it sounded cool - like a worthwhile achievement. And now I am there. Doing ok. Except for the scholarly part. There I fall over badly.
I don't use the appropriate language. I don't understand half of the words I am meant to use, so I avoid them. I grasp the concepts fine, but the big words and convoluted language throw me for a major loop. I just cannot get my head around it.
Don't get me wrong, I can use 100 words to say what could be said in 20 just fine. I do it all the time. But I can't use words I don't have any understanding of. If I *think* I understand what they mean, I'll use them. If I am wrong in my understanding, I learn something. But having NO GRASP at all on a word, I won't use it.
So, I use plain Australian English. Or my own version thereof. I lose some marks, but I can live with that.
I am very fortunate that the lecturers are aware of the fact that I struggle with the language. They generally apply the theory that if we can grasp the concepts, and explain them somehow, they are doing their job. Generally. The Faculty of Arts is not so easy to talk to (no matter what the issue is), but IMAS, IASOS, and IRD are great.
I will get there in the end. I will continue to call a spade a spade, and explain things in a way that I understand. Because I am damn sure I am not the only one out there who struggles with academia and it's language.
Is it just me, or are people becoming more - in-everyone's-face with their shows of affection?
You know what's really scary? I'm not talking about people I can see in the actual, real world! I'm talking about Facebook, Twitter, and MySpace. What the Hell is going on?! There's enough mushy drivel on these sites to make Cupid puke - and that's saying something!
It's not just kids either, I have had to block a 44-year-old's posts from appearing on my FB wall, because it's all 'I can't wait to hold you in my arms again, I love you sooooo much. I can't believe I let you go...' Which is fine, in its place. Just don't make me suffer through it with you, more than 10 times a day, every day. Thank you.
I am not totally anti 'I love you' posts on social media sites - I know a couple who 'met' online, then in real life, and who now are happily living together.* They often post "I love you' or 'I miss you' to each other. But that's it. The personal stuff, they keep personal. And so, those wee messages of love make me smile. Because they are just that - wee messages.
I get the same lovely feeling when I see those posts as I do when I see the (local and lovely) old couple sharing a motorised wheelchair/scooter thingy when I am out walking. They are together, and existing happily in each other's space, with no need to shove their togetherness, and need of or desire for each other, in everyone's faces. It is what it is, and they are happy with it.
So, for the - PDA-averse - amongst us, please dial it back a little. Keep things hot and heavy by all means; just keep them private. There's a lot to be said for keeping people guessing about what you are up to.
* I think this is one of those Meant To Be things. I hope so. The modern world is lacking in Meant To Be..........
Re-reading some of my more recent posts, I come across as whiny. Mainly about my clothes. So I thought I'd best clarify WHY I have nothing to wear, and why I'm just whinging, rather than doing something about it.
My husband and I are leaving this year, no later than December, earlier if we can, to travel the country for a minimum of 2 years, in a tent/campervan/something.
I have lost 10kg+ in the past 12 months (so 20+ pounds) and so have had to heave most of my clothes. Which wouldn't be a problem, normally. I'd just go buy more. But, with the trip looming, and still losing weight, I have to stand back, and assess things.
How practical for travel will the item be? Is it something that will fit/look ok if I lose more weight? Is it something I can lounge around a bush campsite, and walk city streets in? Does it pack down small?
So, that is the news, and the reason for my wardrobe woes.
One day, I will do something like this - I think it's brilliant.
Several (mainly US) bloggers (Kendi and Indiana are two) are participating in this shop-your-wardrobe activity. Basically, you pick 30 items you own (accessories are not counted in the 30, shoes are) and remix them into different outfits for 30 days.
I think this is a brilliant idea - because it not only means you have to actually look at what you own, it inspires you to step outside your everyday comfort zone.
If I had enough clothes, I'd do this for sure. As it is, I live in sweatpants (4), tshirts (6) and jumpers (3), because they are the only things I own that remotely fit (I have 1 button down shirt that kinda fits, no pants, 2 skirts and 2 dresses that fit if I put something underneath to prevent flashing), and because that's what almost everyone in this sinkhole wears, so I blend in. That, or ratty jeans, or (Heaven help me) styled separates - like you see in Myer catalogues on the over 60's). Unless it's pub night - then it's short, low cut and tight.
So that's 19 items, and while I change it up as much as I can, it's not easy. One day, I will live somewhere I can do a 30x30, without fear of physical attack due to sticking out, and therefore being more visible to a specific nasty piece of work, and have enough clothes that fit to do it. One day.
I kid you not. 'Official' summer ends in about a week and half, the last 2 days have been disgustingly humid, and today, I am in thermals.
When I go outside I will be wearing wet weathers, gumboots, a beanie, scar and gloves. If the wind drops off, I'll take an umbrella. If not, I will swear a LOT. And tell the dog that it's all his fault, and that he better appreciate me more from here on out.
Yep, I will put all that on to go out and feed the dog. Because, while I can handle being cold,(with a lot of whinging) I hate, hate, hate, getting wet.
I am not by nature a jealous/envious person. But there are blogs out there that see me turn a rather unbecoming shade of green. Many are in my Essential Reading.
The ones that make me the most Shrek-like are the style blogs. Especially the ones with vintage/thrifted (or, for us Aussies, opp-shopped) clothes.
I agree with Andrea (ACoIC) that one of life's greatest joys is finding treasure buried in a pile of ick. But my problem is that 90% of what I have access to here, while not necessarily 'Ick', is at the least - boring. It has that air of sameness that drives me to despair.
I don't want to stand out (really, I don't, not here), but I also don't want to fade into the human background either.
I used to love opp-shopping when I was younger, before it became cool - we found some awesome treasures. Today, it's a big yawn. I drool over the blogs, and wish that we had somewhere I could buy cool stuff like that. And then I remember that I don't have anywhere I could wear the cool stuff, so it's probably a good thing. Which turns me even greener.
Although, I am going to need some new gear for winter, as all my clothes are falling off me. Maybe it's time to get back in the ring, and have a go? Who knows, I might find some treasure!
It's February - the children are back to school, the grown-ups will soon follow (well, I started 2 weeks ago, in Summer school), and some of the trees are already turning.
Where did January go? Did I blink and miss it? Or was I so badly distracted that I just lost track of time?
I suspect it was the latter - it has NOT been smooth sailing here, what with one thing and another. Hopefully though, with a bit of luck, things will settle down. And if they don't, well, only 10 months til we are LEAVING!!!
I can do 10 months here - surely? Without murdering/divorcing my husband? I can try..............
In all fairness, it isn't his fault, he has major health issues, needs at least 2 major surgeries, and to top it all off, like he needed MORE stress, the feral nutjob junkie is back and in fine form - his brother moved in over the road, so he has a 'reason' to be near us. Of course, no normal person visits their sibling 20 different times a day, but he never claimed to be normal.........
In other news, my baby sister is engaged, my mum has made the final move (taking Mr15 with her) and my baby brother is moving back to this end of the island at the end of the month.
I see a psychologist on the 7th of next month - I have been receiving counseling, but the issues are deeper than they can treat. Fingers crossed I click with this woman - I want to get better so bad!
Will keep you posted, expect a rant or 3 over the next week, we are doing the AVO thing with the feral again - we were told that bail conditions protected us, only to learn yesterday, 7 months after our last AVO expired that there are no bail conditions!
Or, as certain amongst the community would have it, Invasion Day.
To them I say this "Wake up! If the 'invaders' hadn't arrived, you wouldn't be protesting, because you wouldn't exist."
Atrocities happen every day, in every part of the world. We simply don't hear about them - or if we do, it's a whisper rather than a scream. Or a scream cut short, followed by deafening silence. A year on from the killer 'quake, Haitians are still living in abject poverty. There are people in our own country with life expectancies under 40, many of whom will suffer greatly before dying.
Half the country is under water, and yet, the focus remains on 1 small sector of the affected area. Those who make the most noise, receive the most attention.
I am not saying don't protest - by all means, holler as loudly as you can. But make it a noise for the future. The past is just that, past, we can't change it. What we do today WILL affect the future. Look beyond your immediate vicinity, to those other areas where your help and voice will be appreciated.
Above all, enjoy the day, remember those who died that we may continue to live in a free society, and have a beer for me.
........was it to do 1,000 pushups, 1,000 crunches and 1,000 squats for New Year? And how did I let myself get talked into it?!
I am not sure exactly WHO came up with this *brilliant* idea, but it's been running for a few years now, as part of the Ultimate Black Belt Test - or at least I think that's what it's associated with. I know that the Goju-Shorei Systems encourages members to participate, which is how we know about it.. It's tough, but I'm going to finish it. Troy did it yesterday, and I am doing it today. 1st and 2nd Aussies to do it - go team!
Now, please excuse me, I have 300 of each to go, and then a Radox bath awaits me.