I used to think that PMT was just an excuse that women used for being a bit grumpy. Five years into my thirties, and 5 years after I stopped taking the contraceptive pill, I now have a whole new understanding of the concept of PMT and I apologise to anyone I didn't take seriously before.
There are days when I am agitated and likely to burst into tears for no apparent reason. It's bizarre because you just can't explain why you feel like that. And then you get even more agitated and want to burst into tears all over again at being so irrational and emotional. At feeling so out of control. Hormones are powerful things. I have a whole new respect for hormones.
I also used to think that in lesbian relationships there was likely to be twice as much PMT so double the amount of angst. But I was wrong. Two lots of PMT does not equal PMT doubled - it equals PMT squared! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Stress in the City
Everyone I know is stressed. REALLY stressed. And everyone is so stressed that they have no time or energy left to be sympathetic about each other's stress levels.
Mostly this stress seems to come from two main sources: work and babies. However, after pondering about this for a few days, I think there is a third factor: Melbourne. Well, not Melbourne itself, but the stress that comes from living in a busy city. The reason I think Melbourne is a factor is that for the past six or so years that I lived in Tasmania, I knew people who worked and people who had babies, and they just didn't seem as stressed as the people I know here.
Life in Tassie just moves at a different pace. Most people seem to work fairly normal hours, or if they don't, it's because they either love their job or they are the kinds of people who always put that bit of extra effort into whatever they do (yes, you know who you are!). Tasmania has:
Mostly this stress seems to come from two main sources: work and babies. However, after pondering about this for a few days, I think there is a third factor: Melbourne. Well, not Melbourne itself, but the stress that comes from living in a busy city. The reason I think Melbourne is a factor is that for the past six or so years that I lived in Tasmania, I knew people who worked and people who had babies, and they just didn't seem as stressed as the people I know here.
Life in Tassie just moves at a different pace. Most people seem to work fairly normal hours, or if they don't, it's because they either love their job or they are the kinds of people who always put that bit of extra effort into whatever they do (yes, you know who you are!). Tasmania has:
- less traffic and therefore less road rage
- fewer things to do of an evening so less stress about overwhelming social calendars
- shorter distances to travel between work and home
- fewer shops so less temptation to spend beyond your budget
- less choice about where to shop, what to buy, what movie to see and where to go for dinner so less anxiety over decision-making
- less competition for jobs, real estate, the best seats in the cinema, a seat on the tram, parking spaces, etc, etc
Having said all that, I could write an enormous list of all the things that Melbourne has that Tasmania doesn't (but I'd just end up getting stressed out about not having enough time to do all the things that Melbourne has to offer).
Anyway, they are my Friday-night-at-home-alone thoughts. And don't get me wrong, I am THRILLED to be home on a Friday night. For once I have managed to have NOTHING to do, and am enjoying pizza, beer, soothing music and chilling out on the couch in my pj's. (And Ange will be on her way over later after her dinner with her good friend who she has been too busy and too stressed to catch up with for so long now. I hope both of them relax enough to talk about something other than how stressed they are at work!)
Monday, March 19, 2007
Interview Me!
The Rules: Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me.” I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better. If I already know you well, expect the questions may be a little more intimate! You WILL update your journal/bloggy thing/whatever with the answers to the questions. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the post. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
My questions come from Thinking Girl:
1. What is your least favourite household task? Explain (if necessary).
Definitely ironing - I HATE ironing! Gone are the days when I lived at home with the magic laundry basket. You know the one - you put in your dirty clothes and a couple of days later they turn up clean and ironed in your wardrobe - like magic!
2. Would you describe yourself as organized, unbothered by a wee spot of untidiness, hopelessly obsessive-compulsive, or hopelessly disorganized to the point of “absentminded professor”?
Depends how busy I am. Generally I border on obsessive-compulsive - I like everything in its place. But when I'm busy my apartment gets messier and messier. Then one day I have time to see it all and I whip myself into a tidying up frenzy. I always find that very therapeutic!
3. How do you like to unwind? Bubble bath? Yoga? Reading? TV? Glass of wine? Turn up the stereo? Late night disco dancing? Or something else entirely?
Reading. I am a compulsive reader. I read the backs of cereal packets, the signs on the trams, anything that stays still long enough! There's nothing I love more than lying on the sofa with a good cup of coffee and a book!
4. Please tell me about your pets, from childhood onward. With names, and if possible, pictures!
First Pet - Kimmy the German Sherpherd. An extremely smart and tolerant dog. She put up with me climbing all over her, sticking my fingers in her ears, and just generally giving her that kind of affection only infants can dish out. Here we are:
My most interesting family member would have to be my grandfather, known as "Paddy". He has lived a fascinating life with lots of international travel and he has great stories of famous people he has known. 
My questions come from Thinking Girl:
1. What is your least favourite household task? Explain (if necessary).
Definitely ironing - I HATE ironing! Gone are the days when I lived at home with the magic laundry basket. You know the one - you put in your dirty clothes and a couple of days later they turn up clean and ironed in your wardrobe - like magic!
2. Would you describe yourself as organized, unbothered by a wee spot of untidiness, hopelessly obsessive-compulsive, or hopelessly disorganized to the point of “absentminded professor”?
Depends how busy I am. Generally I border on obsessive-compulsive - I like everything in its place. But when I'm busy my apartment gets messier and messier. Then one day I have time to see it all and I whip myself into a tidying up frenzy. I always find that very therapeutic!
3. How do you like to unwind? Bubble bath? Yoga? Reading? TV? Glass of wine? Turn up the stereo? Late night disco dancing? Or something else entirely?
Reading. I am a compulsive reader. I read the backs of cereal packets, the signs on the trams, anything that stays still long enough! There's nothing I love more than lying on the sofa with a good cup of coffee and a book!
4. Please tell me about your pets, from childhood onward. With names, and if possible, pictures!
First Pet - Kimmy the German Sherpherd. An extremely smart and tolerant dog. She put up with me climbing all over her, sticking my fingers in her ears, and just generally giving her that kind of affection only infants can dish out. Here we are:
We also had a cat called Tinker "the Stinker". She came from the local Railway Yard when the railway cat had kittens. The first day she was home she went to the toilet on the cream carpet in our lounge room and Mum was not impressed (hence her nickname). She was a very independently minded cat and didn't like being cuddled. I once tried to rescue her from a fight with the neighbour's cat and ended up scratched and bleeding.
After that there were two cattle dogs: Duchess and Baron. Duchess was a pedigree and Dad wanted to breed her. But she was a modern dog and didn't want puppies. She made this very clear when she attacked the male dog brought over to service her. You go girl! She died fat and happy. Baron was a stray who we rescued on a busy road. He kept Duchess company and was a good dog all round.
Finally, my very own and beloved Corky Dog, who late last year went to live with my parents and their dog up on the waterfront. I moved to the city and Corky just wouldn't have coped here. She needs lots of space to run and water to swim, and most of all she needs company all the time. She has that with Kimmy Number 2, my parents' kelpie dog, and the two of them are now best friends and love to race each other around the back yard and in-and-out the dog door!
Corky Monster and her new best friend Kimmy the Wonder Dog: 
5. Who is your favourite family member, and why? Who is your most interesting family member, and is he/she the same as your favourite?
Difficult question - not sure I can say that I have a favourite. I love each of them for their own individual quirks. If I have to pick favourites, it would be tie between my two nephews. Ryan is 3 years old and very cheeky. He makes me laugh. Nathan is 1 year old and an adorable smiley boy who you just want to cuddle all the time.
My most interesting family member would have to be my grandfather, known as "Paddy". He has lived a fascinating life with lots of international travel and he has great stories of famous people he has known.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Mardi Gras Weekend
OK, where do I start? At the airport ticket disaster? Here's what happened.
The Friday of the Mardi Gras weekend Ange picked me up from work and we went straight to the airport. We had our costumes in our hand luggage...the group organisers had reminded us over and over again not to forget our costumes, and to make sure we took them on as hand luggage so that they didn't get lost on the way to Sydney. We'd been over all our costume parts again and again and were sure we had everything we needed.
About half an hour before the plane was boarding, Ange suddenly turned to me and said "Babe, you did remember to put in the Mardi Gras After-Party Tickets didn't you?" OH MY GOD! I didn't! They were still sitting on my desk at home. Panic set in. We didn't have time to get back home to get them before the plane was due to leave. The real estate agency which had my spare keys was closed for the weekend. I tried to call the ticket agency to see whether they could reissue them in Sydney if I presented the same credit card I paid for them with (together they cost over $250) but I couldn't get through. I was beside myself. I couldn't believe it.
Then Ange had a brainwave. I had recently found out that my landlord lived in the block next door to me, and I thought he might still have a set of keys for the apartment. I rang directory assistance and asked if they had a listing at that address in his name. THEY DID! I rang and got his answering machine and hung up without leaving a message - "He's not home" I said to Ange in despair. "Try again", she said, "and this time leave a message". I called back and started relaying my problem into the answering machine. Paul then picked up the phone - he WAS home, and better still, he had a set of keys! We then rang Mark, Ange's flatmate, who was flying down to Sydney the next morning. He was out on his bike, quite near my apartment and went straight over, got the keys from Paul, got the tickets, and all was resolved moments before we boarded the plane! Thank goodness for a set of coincidences that all fell into place! The flight to Sydney was much more relaxed after that was sorted out!
We got to Sydney and met up with Ange's friend David and his partner. They were on their way to a party in a high rise apartment near Kings Cross and invited us to come along. It was an interesting evening! The apartment had a doorman and an amazing view! The party was all gay boys and Ange and I were the only females there. The barman made us some drinks and we chatted to a few of the guys. There were bankers turned novelists, journalists, film makers, all sorts of interesting people. We spent a lot of time talking to these two really fascinating guys from Latin America and Russia, who had both immigrated to Australia. They had amazing stories to tell about their histories and the projects that they were now working on. One was a film maker and was making a very interesting movie about family secrets and adoption. Anyway, we asked them if they were together, and they said yes, for about five years, and then noted that one of them had been also with this other guy across the room for eight years. We were a bit confused but assumed they meant before their relationship, although it was kind of a weird thing to say. Later in the conversation it became clearer, when they were talking about how they wanted to adopt a child, and although it was hard enough for two gay guys to adopt, it was even harder for three gay guys to adopt. OK, now we got it, they were a threesome! Can't say I've ever met one of those before, but it obviously worked for them, as the three of them have been together for five years now. Sometimes I feel like I have lived such a sheltered life!
The Friday of the Mardi Gras weekend Ange picked me up from work and we went straight to the airport. We had our costumes in our hand luggage...the group organisers had reminded us over and over again not to forget our costumes, and to make sure we took them on as hand luggage so that they didn't get lost on the way to Sydney. We'd been over all our costume parts again and again and were sure we had everything we needed.
About half an hour before the plane was boarding, Ange suddenly turned to me and said "Babe, you did remember to put in the Mardi Gras After-Party Tickets didn't you?" OH MY GOD! I didn't! They were still sitting on my desk at home. Panic set in. We didn't have time to get back home to get them before the plane was due to leave. The real estate agency which had my spare keys was closed for the weekend. I tried to call the ticket agency to see whether they could reissue them in Sydney if I presented the same credit card I paid for them with (together they cost over $250) but I couldn't get through. I was beside myself. I couldn't believe it.
Then Ange had a brainwave. I had recently found out that my landlord lived in the block next door to me, and I thought he might still have a set of keys for the apartment. I rang directory assistance and asked if they had a listing at that address in his name. THEY DID! I rang and got his answering machine and hung up without leaving a message - "He's not home" I said to Ange in despair. "Try again", she said, "and this time leave a message". I called back and started relaying my problem into the answering machine. Paul then picked up the phone - he WAS home, and better still, he had a set of keys! We then rang Mark, Ange's flatmate, who was flying down to Sydney the next morning. He was out on his bike, quite near my apartment and went straight over, got the keys from Paul, got the tickets, and all was resolved moments before we boarded the plane! Thank goodness for a set of coincidences that all fell into place! The flight to Sydney was much more relaxed after that was sorted out!
We got to Sydney and met up with Ange's friend David and his partner. They were on their way to a party in a high rise apartment near Kings Cross and invited us to come along. It was an interesting evening! The apartment had a doorman and an amazing view! The party was all gay boys and Ange and I were the only females there. The barman made us some drinks and we chatted to a few of the guys. There were bankers turned novelists, journalists, film makers, all sorts of interesting people. We spent a lot of time talking to these two really fascinating guys from Latin America and Russia, who had both immigrated to Australia. They had amazing stories to tell about their histories and the projects that they were now working on. One was a film maker and was making a very interesting movie about family secrets and adoption. Anyway, we asked them if they were together, and they said yes, for about five years, and then noted that one of them had been also with this other guy across the room for eight years. We were a bit confused but assumed they meant before their relationship, although it was kind of a weird thing to say. Later in the conversation it became clearer, when they were talking about how they wanted to adopt a child, and although it was hard enough for two gay guys to adopt, it was even harder for three gay guys to adopt. OK, now we got it, they were a threesome! Can't say I've ever met one of those before, but it obviously worked for them, as the three of them have been together for five years now. Sometimes I feel like I have lived such a sheltered life!
Monday, March 5, 2007
Mardi Gras!
Here are the photos from Mardi Gras 2007! We had SO MUCH FUN! We are definitely going in it again next year. Vic Presence was, naturally, the BEST group!
Here are the boys, waiting impatiently to get started:
And two of the 6 girls (outnumbered by the 60 guys in our group):
Ange and Mark, looking gorgeous:
Ange, Mark and Sam:
Sam and Ange, after the parade, exhausted, sweaty, red in the face, but all smiles:
Here are the boys, waiting impatiently to get started:
And two of the 6 girls (outnumbered by the 60 guys in our group):
Ange and Mark, looking gorgeous:
Ange, Mark and Sam: Sam and Ange, after the parade, exhausted, sweaty, red in the face, but all smiles:
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