Wow, have really been writing some shit of late. Completely self-indulgent and boring wank. Am censoring myself for the next couple of days while I deal with a few "issues", mainly mentally ill mother. It's not fun for anyone involved and am probably better off taking a break while I sort it out. Sometimes actions are the anti-dote and words just get in the way.

On change

One of the reasons I didn't go back to Sydney after my trip was that I felt myself go through such massive changes over there, the thought of just stepping back into my old world and the rut that I had created would have been almost disrespectful to the process I had gone through while travelling. Latin America shredded me. Totally dissolved all the protective layers I had built up around myself living in that city and having the experiences I had. It was about 6 weeks into my trip when I felt myself just basically fall apart and be completely vulnerable for the first time in years. It was awesome. Like I woke up.

Now, I'm treading water in lots of aspects of my life. Not that I am waiting for anything to happen, I've just returned to the centre. I lived so far one way for so long, then went so far the other way when I was overseas and now, well, I'm back to the middle and it's a place I don't know that well.

But as we all know, the only thing constant is change.

It's hard not to run away isn't it. I've been doing it for years. Quitting jobs, breaking up with boyfriends, moving house, never owning anything for fear that it will slow me down. Well this time I don't think I am going to run away. I want to change my ways and I'm working on it bit by bit.

Speaking of change, I'm going to change the music and have a cup of tea outside on the back step. It's a beautiful night out there.

In Pursuit of Perfection

It’s another beautiful day in paradise. Am getting psyched for summer and going to the beach every day straight from work and baking the shit out of myself. I want to become really leathery and wrinkly and put all those Botox Bitches to shame. I know sunbaking is bad and kills you but sometimes things that are bad are fun and feel good so they win.

Listening to lots of music and just can’t seem to get enough of it. I feel like a sponge, just wanting to soak myself night and day from the moment I wake up til the moment I go to bed. The thing about me and music is that I feel like I have spent most of my life listening to as much music as I can just in case I miss hearing the perfect song. I sometimes think “What if there is a song out there that is the best song ever and I never get to hear it?” My little bro once wrote about the Perfect Song on his blog and this is what he said when he found it at age 17.

“This is the song I wish I had written. It is the most beautiful and emotion-invoking song I have ever heard. I want to die to this song, and I want it played at my funeral. I want this song embedded in me, tattooed onto my skin and my heart and my soul. It sends shivers down my spine and puts tears in my eyes every single time I hear it. Everyone in the world should somehow own this song, because once you hear it, you will understand. The melodies, the harmonies, the passion, everything about it stuns me. I would marry this song if it were a woman. If I had written this song, I could live the rest of my life just being satisfied with myself. This song makes me want to cry, laugh, scream, destroy and create all at once. It is my perfect song. I am too enrapt in this song to even think about a good/bad list today. Sorry, go listen to the song and you'll understand."

Unfortunately I am unable to name the song or artist in order to protect my brother's rep. I loved what he wrote though. It was super dramatic.

First day of Spring - review

Was pretty pumped up for the first day of spring. Had great expectations. Lets see how it stacked up.

Morning: Got to work on time. Miracle. Sun shining. Tunes blaring in ears during walk to bus stop. Lack of public transport action was a let down. Coffee was awesome but took ages to kick in due to late night last night.

Mid morning: socialising with work mates. Everyone happy. Good springy vibe in the air.

Lunch: 2 hours with Lady Crocker overlooking the harbour celebrating her new job and the fact that she is moving back to Sydney. One less Newie friend brings total to 3. Mental note to make Newie friends where possible. Worked on tan. Drank a beer in the sun.

Mid afternoon: Busy busy busy. Listened to the Gifthorse on work PC speakers. Office was pumped up.

5pm: wines and snack platters = good times. Stars came out to say hello. Wine was awesome. Pined for Haymaker all the while.

11pm: Home. Chilly. Still wearing pyjamas to bed = not summer yet so don't get ahead of yourself. Found new freckle under my left eye that wasn't there before. Tried to wash it off. Skin cancer? Big work meeting tomorrow with boss re: big event. Will pretend to be interested while plotting escape plans. Very tired. Stop blogging and go to bed Tatey!

Pre-midnight ramblings

Once again am not tired when I should be. I don't have any problems sleeping as such, once I'm out I can sleep for Australia but I just love staying up late in the crib, listening to music, talking to o/s mates on Skype, prolonging the inevitable alarm clock going off and having to go to work. Not that I should be complaining about my job - it's so fucking cruisy atm I can do it with my eyes and ears closed.

Tonight I spent some quality time with my house after being away on the weekend, cleaning it ferociously while listening to early 90's hip hop, including Das FX and The Goats which I haven't listened to since about 1994. Awesome. Then I went grocery shopping and bought heaps of delicious food only to come home and whip up vego sausage sangers for dinner. I am obsessed with sangers at the moment. Whoever invented deliciousness between two slices of bread was a genius.

I also spoke to my brother on Skype for ages. He has mad new ink that he got in Spain and showed me some ungodly tatts that I didn't know he had. This includes a grand piano on his thigh and this portrait of Mulder and Scully from the X-Files with a "I want to believe" banner underneath.

Tomorrow is the first day of Spring and I'm celebrating. The Quirkster and I are going to tuck into a mezze plate and shitloads of wine on the back deck and reminisce about how cold it used to be. I think he is worried I am going to quit my job and leave him alone in the company of bogans.

And then I am starting my Spring Fitness Plan. It involves runs to Nobbys beach after work, salads for lunch and homemade mojitos.

¡Ole!

Weekend-end

I knew this weekend was off to a good start when I checked into the hotel and my lesbian fantasy Ruby Rose was checking in at the same time. I decided against asking her what room she was in because I read that she has a gf. She is smokin hot in real life although shorter than I thought.

Haybabe came over, we drank beers, wandered along Chapel St, ate and drank at probably the only cool joint in the street and caught up. Staying in hotels is fun for a change - you can drink the mini-bar and wear the bathrobes but at the end of the day, you don't want to do it too often. It doesn't stack up to wearing trackies at home.

Saturday I had to work, if you can call it that - sitting around eating chocolate and drinking wine with the head chocolatier from Lindt. We got on well and I gave him a bit of shit for being a Chocolatier. What sort of job is that? He laughed and pointed out I get to drink wine for a living. Not generally but he had a point.

Saturday night was spent at The Pinnacle, eating Eggplant Parmas, playing pool and listening to some soul tunes being spun by the nerdy but nice DJ. I requested Rock Creek Park which he didn't have and I must admit I was surprised. We befriended Dan the Barman who was pretty drunk but a good pool player and he and I practised our bad spanish over a game of pool. Great pub, loved it. Realised I am missing city life heaps living in this shit town. Miss the energy, the choices, the attitude, the bad fashion, the crazies, the pollution, traffic jams and bad drivers, good coffee....the list is endless...

Got home and went straight to mum's place for lunch since I knew there was nary a scrap of food in my house. She has happy to see me and kept hugging me and giving me compliments. For all her mental illness and hessian-ness she is pretty amazing and gave me some good advice. She also was wearing Chuck Taylors which I found funny and endearing in an age-innapropriate way.

So back in the crib and reflecting a bit more than I should be for a Sunday night. It's weird to be home tonight...I'm restless and can feel a few tosses and turns coming on. The quiet is unnerving. I am off to find a distraction!

And as for you Walshy - next time. No excuses.

Good times

Not much to write about this week. Been busy, happy, nothing to moan about, no angst to speak of. Here is an overview:

The latest I got to work this week: 9.45am.
The worst thing I ate this week: cold baked bean sandwich.
The best thing I ate this week: roast vegie and feta sandwich. What's with all the sandwiches?
Stupidest things I did this week: left the house for work and didn't close front door. Came home to House Wide Open and stealthed inside to do quick check of AV equipment, wine stash and laptop - all in place. Rapists, murderers and crackheads - nowhere to be seen. Thank you Karma bank, I owe you a massive deposit!
Worst conversation overheard this week: stupid workmates talking about kids wetting the bed. One bought their kid a "wee detector" that sets off an alarm in it's little ear if it starts to pee while sleeping. Wanted to fight them and made mental note to never be a mother for having to deal with this kind of shit.
Cutest thing I saw this week: 2 little kids walking to school, a boy and his bigger sister. She was reading him a story as they strolled. Made mental note to self that children are not all evil and to practise reading books while walking.
Biggest tool of the week: Me. See above re: possible home invasion.
Biggest hottie of the week: Hayslayer. Thank god am going to Melbourne tomorrow!

So that's about it. Life is good and I hope it is for my readership of 7 strong. You know who you are.

Seasons for Growth

August is the month when things thaw out. Suddenly the days are getting longer, the sun is shining warmer and something returns to the air which has been lying dormant. It’s a time of reflection, planning, dreaming and setting goals so you have something to aim for when the days don’t end till 8pm and you can’t sleep anyway for the heat.

September brings promise of renewal with its blossoms and blooms. “If they can do it why shouldn’t I too?” you think when you see a naked and empty tree become majestic in its beauty again. Everything is magnified in its splendor - grass becomes greener, colours start moving and you can smell something in the air that wasn’t there before. And this all rubs off on you every day until you realize you are part of a greater process and you need to get amongst it.

October is a waiting game: Summer’s just around the corner and she’s playing hard to get. Its jeans and tee-shirts with a jacket after dark but after all the months of being rugged up all you yearn for is to sleep naked under a fan.

November is time to flirt with the ocean. The sea breeze beckons you to it, daring you to get in and get wet, with a promise to wash away all the residue of the year gone by and leave you only with a thing film of crunchy salt that’ll rinse off under the trickle of a communal shower.

December. The end of another chapter, time to sweat, time to celebrate, lets knock off work early and drink beers in the sun. Its burnt skin and good times, sleepless nights and a cool breeze if you’re lucky enough to take the edge off.

The seasons still run like clockwork and bring with them certain predictability. In January I thought that all that lay in front of me was a question mark. Funnily enough it doesn’t scare me anymore and only brings with it possibility. I’m a third of the way through my life and for the first time feel like the choices I have made are about to give me the right kind of foundation for the next bit….however long that might be….with whatever it might bring with it…

A little Love Song

My favourite vegetable is broccoli
It’s the only way that I get by
I like it steamed with a squeeze of lemon
With tofu and soy sauce it is heaven

I like it baked in cheesy pies
Or tossed through colourful stir fries
It’s full of iron and Vitamin C
Which we all know is very good for you and me

You can even have it raw in salad
Which is why I wrote this vegie love ballad
But I must admit I tell a lie
I don’t pronounce it Brock-o-lye
Although it’s the only vegetable for me
I actually say it Brock-o-lee

Word O'Clock

I really like my boss. He buys me coffees in the morning, compliments me on my “wild 80’s hair”, tells me I light up the room and swears a lot but never at anything. He owns lots of cool cufflinks - one set is a bottle opener and beer bottle top. He looks like John Boy Walton and loves his kids, brings a lunchbox to work with celery sticks in it as he is watching his weight and lets me buy cases of beer for the office on the work credit card. He is rad.

In my previous jobs I have hated my bosses with a passion. One complete mad man called me a “Fucking Dumb Head” in front of the entire office. I laughed out loud at his ridiculous choice of insults and when he turned around and stormed into his office I called him a “Fucking Cock Smack” just as the door slammed so only my colleagues heard. We giggled and I got mad props. Then there was the Crazy Evil ‘Ranga Lesbian who used to corner me in the stationery closet and close the door and threaten me by pointing her index finger in my face. She would read my emails if I left my computer unlocked and ended up stealing $100 000 from the business. Poor lady. Imagine being a lesbian with red hair and Fanta pants. It wouldn’t be easy.

Sometimes I wonder why feminists fought so hard for women to be able to develop high powered careers. Not that I have one currently, but I have dabbled and they are abnormal and completely overrated. I reckon it would be way easier to have 3 choices of jobs like when my mum was young. You could be a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary if you even wanted a job at all. Cooking dinners, hanging with the kids and pottering around the house sounds way better than sitting at a desk, going to meetings and talking about reaching targets and key performance indicators with stakeholders all day.

I’m just having a “Grass is Greener” moment. Mostly it’s not you know.

Friends, Enemies, Lovers, Family...

Being human means somehow trying to navigate your way through a series of interractions with those you love, those you like, those you are related to and those you don't care about. They will all drive you crazy at one stage in your life and your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to keep the ones you love close and set the others free.

I forgot I had enemies until a few nights ago. It was a bit of shock really since I have this opinion of my self that I am a very nice and good person. In fact, I haven't always been nice, or good, or behaved with integrity and grace. I try, but mostly I'm just a normal person who is capable of fucking up. We all have our shadow side and if you don't know yours you've got problems cause you'll never be able to keep it in check.

I read somewhere that the opposite of love is not hate but indifference, so what does that say for your enemies who can look at you with daggers of hatred? If they were true enemies, surely they wouldn't care anymore? I may be the enemy in some people's daggerloaded eyes but I am happy to say, I don't think of anyone like that. Takes up too much energy that I would prefer to use to love someone instead.

Martin Luther King said "We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies".

So there bitches!

People Watching

Just when I thought it was Spring, the cold and grey is back with a vengeance. Feel great today despite the cloud cover and chill in the air and observed some interesting stuff this morning on the bus to work.

As you will have read in my previous post on PT, taking the bus in Newie is risky in many ways but it always fascinates the hell out of me. This morning there were 2 guys about 17 with Downs sitting across from me, both with pods in ears, one belting out some tuneless song with so much passion, he even had his eyes closed and was doing hand gestures. Everyone on the bus was kind of mildy awkward and I just wanted to slap this dude high five cause he was awesome.

Then a bunch of girls got on, all about 18, dressed in cheap suits and carrying briefcases. They must have been on their way to some kind of Business College where they were being farmed into future PA's so that one day they could move to Sydney to work in some souless corporatation to manage diaries and book travel. It was kind of sad in a way but hey, if it gets them out of Our Town then maybe it's a good thing.

The last thing I saw was kind of heartbreaking. A young family climbed on, 2 young and semi hessian type parents in their early 30's with their son who was about 7. The kid had a very cruel and uncool bowl cut and wore some second hand tracksuit but the three of them were having the best time together. They were laughing and being super affectionate and the parents were totally in love with each other and their kid. On the seat across the aisle from them was a girl about 13 who was in her school uniform and was sitting by herself just staring at this little family scene being played out before her with the most yearning eyes I have seen in a long time. She kept looking at the dad and the way he interracted with his son and I could tell she was a kid with no dad. She stared at them and I stared at her they stared at each other. And then the family got off the bus and she went back to looking at the ground.

I love people watching. I could go anywhere and just sit there and watch people all day. One could say it is quite a creepy pasttime but it's free and you can do it anywhere without any equipment.

More Freaky Current Affairs

The first one I noticed this morning was the story of a woman who jumped off a building naked after taking part in a "rigorous" self-development course.

"She climbed out of the second-floor window of her workplace building, stepped off the ledge and fell onto the pavement below, and then she died half an hour later," Mr Bromwich said. "She was a modest girl but took her clothes off twice and was naked at the time of her death."

What is wrong with us that we constantly think we are not good enough or need to be more in order to be happy? This poor woman probably paid heaps of cash to go to this course and the end result was it ended up sending her bonkers to the point she either wanted to take her own life or suffered from so much grandiose thought she probably was trying to fly. (This photo is actually from the website of the organisation that ran the course.) This quote was taken from the course website:

"Imagine being comfortable with your emotions, allowing yourself to be sad, angry, or happy, knowing you can appropriately manage and express your feelings and have a satisfying relationship with yourself and other people .... Feeling profoundly connected to your heart, nature, society, and in contact with your soul - that part of yourself that is the essence of fulfilment, providing meaning, purpose and a sense of wholeness in your life."

Imagine. How fucked are we as a society and as a community if we need to do a self-help course in order to be sad or happy, express emotion, have satisfying relationships and feel connected to nature, society etc etc as stated above. Have we come so far that the most basic laws of humanity - emotion/expression/connection/purpose have completely eluded us and left us naked and broken at the bottom of an office building in Sydney's CBD?

It makes me yearn for another era and romanticise some of the stories mum has told me of what it was like in the 60's and 70's. She told me that when her and Dad were just married, they lived above a shop in Sydney, two hippies with no money, a new baby and they would sit around listening to records and playing cards for hours on end. They didn't have a TV, they didn't have any cash or assets or any real idea what they were doing either as young adults or parents - but they were just in love with each other and the moment.

This story really illustrates to me the fragility of our mental health in a modern age. We are the product of technology, consumerism, terrorism, globalisation, pop-culture, fast food, disposability, celebrity, genetic modification, built-in obsolescence and so many other false and fucked up concepts that interferes with what's real, what matters and essentially who were are that unless we are rock solid in our mental health, we can easily lose our grip.

Itchy Feet

It is so quiet here tonight. Just still and silent and smelling like spring. The moon was full last night I think so it's still beaming in through the window in all it's glory and majesty. There are no cars, no dogs barking, just the odd sound of a ship's horn in the harbour. Soon it will be spring and we will be back to wearing jeans and teeshirts and thongs with not a care in the world.

Missing Argentina lots at the moment. Missing my little crew over there, just kicking back sharing a mate, talking endless shit, eating empanadas, cruising around BA feeling at home. I can almost afford to go back for a little while but then maybe I think I need to get myself to Europe first since I haven't been there? God damn itchy feet. I've been back 5 minutes and I've got them again. I think most of the time itchy feet is not so much about wanting to travel, it's more about wanting to run. This is very true of me. When things start going really well I generally try to fuck them up in some way. I wrote the book on self-sabotage. Well when we go to the Barringtons I shall walk barefoot on mossy ground and plunge these itchy feet into a rock pool and try to chill them out.

Come on Monday morning. I am so ready for you. This week is going to fflllyyyyyyyyy!

Finally. A weekend at home doin nuttin. I have caught up on sleep, detoxed my liver and have stopped being a grumpy biatch with unpredictable emotions and am generally back to my sweet natured self. But there is still work to be done.

This includes:

• House cleaning
• Clothes cleaning
• Food buying
• Hairdryer buying
• Sunbaking in back yard with I-pod and snacks close at hand
• Thinking of more meaningful blog entries. Actually, fuck that, I like writing about banal shit!
• Going to dinner with the Oz-Canadians and drinking delicious wine that arrived on my doorstep yesterday
• Visiting my nan and eating home made baked goods

It's actually looking like a lot for a nothing weekend. I might cull some.

As an aside, if you have a blog, get busy blogging people! This includes you XBobX, Haymaker and Walshy!

Over and out.
Tatey 180

The Friday F**kwit

This morning the hairdryer blew up in my hand. It made a growling noise and shot red sparks out of the back. I squealed and dropped it for fear of being electricuted.

With soaking wet hair I needed another solution and fast. I got a towel and laid it on the floor in front of the gas heater and lay down with my hair stretched out on the towel where I meditated for 10 minutes. When I stood up: AMAZING curls.

Now I am having the Best Hair Day of My Life.

Screw you hairdryer!

In my daily coffee and current affairs crawl that I perform at work, I was disturbed and fascinated to read about the guy who opened fire in a gym in the States yesterday. The very thought of doing that is fucked up enough but what chilled me was the fact he had blogged his thoughts and feelings leading up to the day when he decided that shooting women taking a latin dance class in a gym would be a good idea.

The blog has since been removed from the net but basically it documented the feelings of a man who was lonely, depressed and hadn't had a shag in almost 20 years.

"Who knows why. I am not ugly or too weird. No sex since July 1990 either (I was 29)," he writes. "Last time I slept all night with a girlfriend it was 1982. Proof I am a total malfunction. Girls and women don't even give me a second look ANYWHERE. There is something BLATANTLY wrong with me."

Got me thinking about loneliness and lack of human contact and how it can literally make people crazy. We've all heard about studies that have been done on children in orphanages who weren't cuddled and held as babies and their failure to thrive, grow and develop.

"Touching an infant has also been shown to develop and strengthen the attachment between a parent and a baby. This attachment gives rise to increased feelings of security, trust, and comfort. The child learns that their parent is there to love and protect them. They will feel safer and more relaxed, and will learn to cry only when they have a need to be met."

So my question is this: do we still have the same needs for touch as adults as we did when we were babies but are too scared to express them for fear of the social response? If you don't have a partner in your life you can go for weeks on end without proper touch - either big long cuddles or just things like massages, little pats and general physical affection. It's one thing to get it from your girlfriends and mates and I make a point to kiss and hug all my friends as much as possible, but I reckon that this bloke suffered from the same syndrome as babies who don't get cuddled enough: he felt no sense of safety or comfort and hadn't in years so he had the biggest cry he could muster - one with an automatic weapon and a death toll of 4 including himself.

There is an obvious moral to this story. Everyone needs to be touched and cuddled so if you realise a few days have gone past and you haven't had any physical affection in a while, do what I do - find someone you like and ask them politely "Can I please have a hug? I really need one." You will feel much better.

As for not having a shag in 20 years, that is just ludicrous and no wonder the bloke went mad. But that's the topic of another post.

Happy Hump Day

Feeling MUCH better today. Yesterday was one of the worst days I can remember having for some reason. I am generally a very posi person so to have a "dark clouds" day is unusual. A few things cheered me up:

Organic vegies thanks to Beanstalk

Cooking and eating dinner with the calming and positive influence of B.Hard. He gives great advice and is as solid as a rock

Skype chats for 2 hours with the very gorgeous Leila from Puerto Rico. Just looking at her and listening to her crazy spanglish was enough to make me laugh

Then I went to bed and had an hilarious dream. In the dream I was at some kind of "corporate teambuilding" event with a bunch of people and one of the activities was a breakdancing competition. The problem was the Sharon Strezlecki was in the group and I knew she would win based on comedic value alone. So I was determined to win on technical merit and was racking my brains for as many b-boy moves as I could remember from the 80's. Popping, locking, power moves, it was all coming back to me but I'm thinking "how the hell am I going to pull this off???" I was really trying to channel Special K from Breakdance. I love that movie. And the soundtrack is even better. I have it on vinyl.

I think I have the Booze Blues. Feeling extremely flat and disinterested and the sheer look of this town is depressing me. Plus there is no one in my office to distract me from myself so I am relying on the pod to do so. I went to mum's for a baked dinner last night and didn't even want to speak to her for some reason. She made a mad vego feast for me and still I didn't feel like talking. I played guitar in bed for most of the night when I got home. Usually I spread out my hanging at home across the entire house and cruise around for most of the night flitting between activities. But last night I was just feeling pretty introspective so I got into bed with laptop, guitar and peppermint tea all within reach and just chilled out in my room. Then I played guitar until my fingertips burned. I am working on my callouses in general. Building them up in some places and tearing them down in others. It's a process I guess.

Creepy Music

Of late I have been listening to music that I can only describe as creepy. Some would call it ambient, moody, dark, etheric, whatevs, it's actually creepy, especially when being listened to through headphones which I do at work a lot. Explosions in the Sky is very guilty of creepiness but then the next song will be nothing short of beautiful and uplifting and will make you want to dance a jig in the street so you feel quite conflicted. Cursive are very creepy as well. Anything with fast whispering vocals in the background or a series of dischordant riffs littered with silence should come with a warning so you don't find yourself listening to it at work drinking a coffee during a nice quiet bit and then fucken BAM! some crashing cymbals and the same line of lyrics repeated and you have almost hit the roof and have coffee all over the desk. I am jumpy as hell at the moment mind you. Its due to Vitamin B deficiency which happens when you have been hitting the piss too much. You find yourself getting jumpy at the littlest stuff like TV commercials or something falling off a cupboard and you know it's time to hit the Mega B's. That shit will smooth you out within a couple of hours.

Did I have a premonition?

Pros/Cons List

What I like about being an adult
Not having to do homework
Pay day
Owning a passport
Drinking beers on school nights
Not being subject to shit trends relating to fashion, music etc. Or at least thinking you’re not.
Driving
Not needing parent’s approval
Liking yourself more and more each year

What I don’t like about being an adult
Bill paying and basically everything to do with managing money
Grocery shopping or, if you are too lazy to do grocery shopping, consistently having no food in the house
Society’s pressure to get married/have babies/get mortgage/be boring. Maybe that shit is all really awesome and that’s why everyone is doing it but I am not convinced
Hangovers hurt way more
Having emotional residue from former experiences. It was heaps better when you were 19 and you had no idea about anything so you just jumped in
Going to gigs and clubs and being at least 10 years older than most of the peeps
Death is way closer

Tater Tater Proscrastinator

I am struggling with work today.

Small tasks are taking much more time to complete than they should. Youtube is enticing, as is coffee/banana bread/sandwiches/water/biccies/cups o tea. I don't want to speak to anyone so am letting my calls go through to the keeper. Listening to James Brown to try to give me some kind of energy for...anything.

I spent some serious coin on the weekend. Here is a breakdown of what I spent:

THURSDAY
Train ticket - $18.00
Cab to pub - $10.00
3 coopers - $15.00 (yep, that's right, little ones were $5 each)
Dinner and wine - $50.00

FRIDAY
Breakfast with ladies- $20.00
Hairdresser - $280.00
Lunch - $15.00
Dinner for Johnny's birthday - $100.oo
Naked man birthday card for John's birthday - $7.00

SATURDAY
Breakfast - $20.00
Parking ticket while borrowing my sister's car- $89.00
New hot dress - $109
Bottle of wine - $25.00
Cab home - $10.00

SUNDAY
Felafel roll, hot chips, coke combo - $7.90

I just punched that into a calculator and it came up as $523.00. Wow. That makes me feel ill. That's half a ticket to Argentina. What am I, a mindless consumer? Apparently yes. Fair enough there were 2 birthday's and one engagement amongst all that to be celebrated but that is hideous.

Excuse me while I self-punish for the rest of the afternoon.

Trash talk

When I went to the cafe this morning to get coffee, I read in the paper that Kyle Sandilands and Jackie O have been pulled off the air following their little incident with a minor on radio last week.

For fuck's sake. Why it took the broadcaster an entire week to remove these fools I don't know. Discussing a 14 year old's sexual activity on live radio is not only in poor taste, it's um, illegal isn't it? If the age of consent is 16, what did they think they were doing in questioning her about sex? Kyle Sandilands made a poor call when he chose to question a minor about sex and I am amazed that he got off scott free. And Jackie O is a disgrace. What woman decides that makes for good radio?

This country pisses me off so much at times for being so gutless. Our cultural response to these incidents and ones like them ie. footy sex scandals, racially fuelled crimes etc is pathetic and I can't believe the way some of these things are handled publically by our leaders.

I remember when the Cronulla riots happened, me and my flatmate the Smiley Phillo were watching the news and she said "Wow. If we were in the Phillipines right now and this went on, the army would be out on the streets mowing people down with machine guns." I love Australia for it's laid back approach but it seems like no one is willing to take their nuts out of their purse and take a stand on what is and isn't appropriate anymore. Although some might argue that that's what John Howard did so you have to be careful what you wish for.

I'm not really up for massive politcial commentary or dicussing Australia's lack of cultural identity in this post, I'm just relieved that these fuckers are not polluting the airwaves....for now anyway.

Vivid Dreams

Had some massive dreams over the weekend.

In the first one I was standing on a rocky cliff overlooking a small country town. A huge storm was brewing and the clouds were becoming really dark and foreboding. Then they turned almost blue and started shooting huge lightning bolts all over the town, setting houses alight and generally causing chaos. I ran down into the town to make sure mum's house was ok and remember running into lightning bolts, dodging them as they hit.

In the second one, I was walking through a zoo with 2 children, a boy and girl, holding each one by the hand. They were los ninos latinos with black shiny hair and big brown eyes and they spoke only spanish. We were walking up to all the animals and I would explain to them what the animal was. I rememeber saying to them "Ahora pequenos, esta muy importante ser suave con las animales" and them nodding and being very cute.

I didn't eat dinner and now I am starving at 11pm

I refuse to do what I did last Sunday night and stay up til 2am on the blog. Problem is, I think I started to feel ok after being hungover as fuck all day. Just a quick little tat-ta-tat-tat on the keys and then zzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

My Sydney weekend was pretty much exactly what I thought.

Highlights included

Head massage and hair washing in massage chair at Stevie English by little Jake

"Hippy Breakfast" at the Lounge cafe in Surry Hills which featured 2 poached egss, well done how I like em, mushies, wilted rocket, grilled haloumi and babaghanoush. I don't know what's hippy about it, it was straight up deliciousness!

Josie

Dance floor antics at Sal's engagement party. I was wowing the crowd with my moves especially my 70's disco moves that I made up to go with "Car Wash" by Rose Royce. At one stage I was calling out move titles inclduing "Suds Up Hose Down", "Wax on Wax off", "the Squeegy" and "Scrub the tires" and people were throwing them down. I believe Linden captured some on video so stay tuned for youtube post

Sleeping in random beds including Igs's sofa bed, Johnny's bed, hotel sofa bed, backseat of the car and my couch. And I hope soon, The Cloud.

Lowlights include:
Getting grabbed by group of fuckwits
Talking to Cokie Monsters with bad taste in music
The felafel I ate for lunch
Sydney and it's abundance of lost and lonely people
Missing the haystacker

But overall it was pretty sweet and there was a lot of love around which was also nice.

"Estoy Nada pero Un Estudiante"

Hoy el cielo es azul
No hay un solo nube
El sol es calor cuando tu puedes lo ver
Pero esta frio cuando no es radiante

Estoy nada pero un estudiante
De Musica, idiomas, amor y vida
Y yo tengo muchos cosas para apprender
yo pratico todos las dias

Mi comida favourita
es cuando yo comer con mi abulita
Juntos nos sentamos en su cocina
Y hablamos sobre todo
Yo sabe que elle es siempre conmigo
Pero yo la extraño mucho.

"I am nothing but a student"
Today the sky is blue
Not a single cloud
The sun is hot when you can see it
But is cold when not shining

I am nothing but a student
Music, language, love and life
And I have many things to learn
I practice every day

My favorite meal is when I eat with my little granny
Together we sat in her kitchen
And we talked about everything
I know that she is always with me
But I still her miss her a lot.

More Newcastle Hating

Well, it's not really hating. More an observation.

When I was a kid growing up here, a local bank produced a series of Pro-Newie TV ads that featured a catchy gang back up type chorus that went "Hey! This is Our Town!" You remember it right? In a very subtle way it ingrained into you a piece of Newcastle cultural brainwashing that Newcastle was a hard done by town that had fought back and was now a hidden secret that we didn't want anyone else to know about. That attitude still exists and if you can escape the mentality of "ya think ya so fucken good don't ya", you will go on to be happy and successful without ever having to justify yourself to some bogan you went to school with.

The other sentiment of the ad is "Hey, this is Our Town!" I was in the bus the other day coming home after work, driving down a crumbling Hunter St and wondering whose town this was because it certainly wasn't mine. Empty buildings litter the streets like corpses and the graffiti is a reminder to all the grown ups that there is still a generation of angry and bored kids here who have been forgotten.

But hey, it's not my town because my generation left years ago. There seems to be void of people between the ages of 22 and 35 in this town and as a result, shit is falling apart. This is the generation of people that actually get things done. We finished school or uni and then took off, both physically and in our careers and we went elsewhere to make changes. What we left behind were the Baby Boomers and their parents who stopped giving a fuck after the 70's and now just want to chill and not to be too challenged by anything. Newcastle City Council is full of these dinosaurs who still hold the balance of power and despite some cool people like Crackers and Nua coming in to disturb the peace they are still in the majority. Marcus is doing some great stuff with Renew Newcastle, TINA has always been a a good event although with a residual flakiness that is the signature of hessians and we all know the beaches are beautiful. But instead of being a vibrant coastal town with major tourism potential, the city is dying and what remains are small pockets of activity in an otherwise empty space.

Newcastle faces the challenge of completely reinventing itself and it's image in order to stay alive and one day flourish.

And me, I need to get the fuck out!

P.S.

If anyone else at my work sends me that youtube link to the stupid fucking americans dancing down the isle at their wedding I am leaving the building.

Weekend Preview

So my little brother is alive. After 10 days of no contact we were starting to get a bit worried about him and then he sent me an email saying he is in fact in a band in Germany and is playing with Madball and Agnostic Front. I said "Pffffft. Did that YEARS ago!" It was actually pretty funny at the time because Agnostic Front back then were about a thousand years old. How old are they now???

Last night I called my dad and my step mum and set them up on Skype so XbobX can call home for free. They haven't got a web cam yet but when they do I am going to get my dad to give me online guitar tuition since he is the best guitarist I know. I showed him my "on loan" guitar which is from the 1920's and he was impressed. It does have a nice sound I have to admit.

The weekends are coming round at a rate of knots. Not that I am complaining but I am going to Sydney this afternoon for what I know will be a massif night with Igs and Rocket on the balcony at the Penthouse and I have only had three sleeps since the last one ended. I am also taking the Beepster out for dinner for his 70th Birthday, going to my sisters engagement party and then to another birthday party where I am sure there will be lots of rack and bad music. That's ok. I shall sip a G and T like a lady while everyone goes b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

Blah blah

Wednesday night chillin at home eating cashews drinking a coopers packing a bag and getting psyched for the weekend listening to tunes having a strum contemplating having ice cream for dinner definate early night awaits missing you you're a sight for sore eyes!

Public Transport

Since I sold my car before I went overseas I have started taking the bus to work every day. I used to have massive Fear of Public Transport that comes with being a car owner. Once you get to cruise around in your own ride, listening to whatever you want, singing as loud as you want, busting out car dance moves, eating while driving and talking on the phone, it’s hard to go back to PT. But I did and it’s a massive eye opener. I would honestly say it’s worse than taking the chicken bus in Central America.

Firstly, in Newcastle, waiting for a bus can be decidedly dodge. Especially after work when it’s dark. There is always one or more of the following:

A drunk old man – generally harmless but has high tendencies towards inappropriateness

A bunch of little punk ass biatches – generally between the ages of 12-18 who wear Adidas trackies and do annoying shit like kick bottles, throw stones, swear loudly etc. Low to medium on the scale of dodge but annoying as hell and have potential to be random and unpredictable or roll you for your electronic devices.

Retards – now, don’t get me wrong. I love people with disabilities and am a qualified teacher of children with special needs. But there is something about Newcastle. You see heaps of retards on the bus. They’re generally cool. I say hello.

Single mothers – as above, I was the kid of a single mother and I know how hard it is to raise a kid on your own. But again, Newcastle has thousands of them. All 18 and lugging a pram on and off buses with no-one offering to help them. And the kids are always super cute which is even more interesting.

Dudes in cars – they cruise past, slow down and throw some kind of foul abuse at you either to do with tits, ass, or something else gender specific and derogatory. Sometimes they even stop and ask if you want a lift. I remember when my cousin was 18 her and her mates were at the Cambridge and after the gig they were all chillin on the footpath tossing up where to go next. A car pulled up, opened the back door, a guy pulled her into the backseat and the next day she was found raped and unconscious in bushland in Charlestown. That freaked the shit out of me cause I have stood outside the Cambridge a million times.

The good things about Public Transport are:

It's good for the environment. Sort of.

You can listen to music and use the time to get psyched for the day ahead

You can thank god that you have a job and don't fit into one of the above categories.

This was a very Un-PC post.

3.30 itis

I am tired and grumpy and sitting at my desk listening to sad songs and eating Vitamin C cause I feel like I am coming down with the flu. Yeah, the Wine Flu. Too many wines beers and "Cheers". It's an occupational hazard of working in the Wine Industry. I am very sensitive to alcohol and I put it down to not drinking until I was 27 or some ridiculous age like that. I can drink a fair bit but I can't handle being hungover and I get very depressed afterwards. I wouldn't say I am depressed now, just flat, tired and uninspired.

There is guy at my work who is building a house at the moment and it's one of those kit home things that you buy out of a catalogue. He spends most of his day ringing up about carpet and paint colours, consulting with the wife and generally being a suburban nightmare. Makes me want to do a Russell Crowe and throw my phone at him.

It's people like him who scare the shit out of me - not that I am worried about ever being like that - but if that's normal I want to be a complete hessian weirdo for the rest of my life. It's only now that I am older that I give my parents massive props for being hippies when we were kids. At the time I hated it and wanted to be nothing but normal but now I love the fact that I was raised really unconventionally, even if it was a bit extreme at times ie. me and my sisters sleeping in sleeping bags on the side of the stage while mum and dad rocked out in the band together.

Today is Iggy's birthday. She is 32. My favourite memory of Igs is when we lived together in Paddo she came downstairs one Sunday morning after a massive night clutching at her chest. She said "Call the ambulance I'm having a heart attack." After a few questions about symptoms however it turned out that she had drunk 8 vodka and red bulls the night before and was having heart palpitations/anxiety attack. It was pretty funny.

And that is the 3.3o Bulletin ya'll.

How to write a song

Tonight I did something strange
I felt something inside me change
I was lit from within
the embers I thought had grown cold began to burn my skin
I dusted you off and we sat down
same place, different space and asked for the sound.

I closed my eyes as I grew warm
my heart ached and my soul was torn
a million memories flooded my mind as I let you drown me and make me blind
I fell into an altered age
my veins were filled with love and rage
I reached inside all that was me
and let these words
these notes
this song
be
free
　
　
　
　

Things

Things I am good at:

Talking
Writing

Listening

Singing in the shower

Befriending weirdos

Chucking house parties

Getting free shit

Eating

Standing up for myself and others

80's dance floor moves

Writing work emails that get great responses

Dreaming

Picking songs when I have only heard the first bar

Project management especially resource allocation

Matching wine to food for full affect

Making people laugh

Things I would like to be better at:

Spanish

Guitar

Singing out of the shower

Cooking

Saying yes to things

Committment - in general

Paying bills on time

Yoga

90's dance floor moves including the running man and anything new jack swing oriented

Emailing my friends overseas

Trusting in the grand plan

Poetry

Things I am downright bad at:

Collecting the mail

Taking out rubbish

Early mornings

Giving up coffee

Seeing things through to completion before getting bored

Practising

Grammar
Doing my hair

Pretending to be nice to bogans

Self-discipline esp. to do with booze, chocolate, sex, cheese and biccies for dinner etc

and a million other things.

Awareness is the first step they say!

Awake during Sleep Time

So now I can't sleep. In order to get home after 6 hours on the plane and 2 hours on the freeway I drank 2 cans of diet coke and now, bam, awake at sleep time. Doesn't really matter except my thoughts are running away with each other and having a great old time while I am actually pretty exhausted.

I have been having these very strong feelings about the shortness of life lately. Not sure why, just have this sensation of "Don't put it off or it might not ever happen." What exactly I am not sure of, just everything that I want to do and be and see and feel. Not much really! This is an excerpt of some shit that I wrote while I was on the plane on the back of a boarding pass:

"I have also decided to calm the fuck down about everything and enjoy my life - which I am. I want to unblock and unlock myself, travel, practise my music and language, be true to myself and have fun doing it." That sounds pretty good. I also wrote down the lyrics to "When you were young" by The Killers because the Haymaker said he wants to sing it one day and I would really love him to. He would be kill Brandon Flowers thats for sure.

In other news, I caught up with Gina on the weekend in Sydney and she was doing really well. It was great to see her. And I saw Josie and Mon and the Hercules twins who I also love like brothers. Sydney drives me mental. I love it in so many ways, especially my old hoods of Surry Hills and the inner west. I went to the Cricketers Arms which is a great pub and also to the Rose in Chippo. Both places I have had so many good nights in. It's funny because I was always too scared to move back to Newcastle for fear of the ghosts of the past whereas now Sydney has a few of it's own. A few dark nights of the soul were had in that town people! But I guess they aren't ghosts really, just memories, some I would like to forget.

And now that I am back here the ghosts have gone and all that remains are bogans. Ha!

Home.

Tonight I came home from 4 days on the road for work and was that excited to get here. I kept thinking, "How did I spend 10 months overseas and never miss home once and now after 4 days am busting to get back?" The only answer I could come up with was:

1. Adelaide

2. Perth

Both boring as shit cities. Plus I just really dig having my own house at the moment. It's cool in a confronting way. No hiding behind flatmate banter. You want to talk, you have to call. You want to see people, you have to ask them over. You want to do bad dancing in sox in the dining room? It's all systems go. I have been talking to myself a bit more than usual but my friends that live alone tell me this is ok. I have at least one pep talk with myself each day which is usally at 7am when the alarm goes off. We have a chat about getting up v staying in bed. Eventually I kick off the doona and just give in to myself.

Other things I have been doing at home include playing guitar and watching online guitar tutorials which I find very informative and frustrating as they make every song look really easy to play which it is not. I also have been cooking organic vegies, listening to a lot of Prince and Stevie Wonder and enjoying my new internet connection. I drink lots of herb tea and am trying to get the word on a bit more.

“You'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day, one day and it's just gone. And you can never get it back. It's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. I mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. I miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place.”

Maybe it'a not an imaginary place after all. Maybe it's right here!

And we're back!

So I toyed with the idea of ditching this blog and not having one at all but then I thought, nope, I love a blog and this one has a great name. I'm keeping it. I am feeling a bit more private than usual about the current situation, not sure why, bu the need to write is greater than the need for privacy. So here goes.

So that Tate Update for the last couple of months is as follows:

• I have my own house and it's extremely cute and I love it.
• The Arms Reach Discography is out and sitting in a box in my cupboard. Hmmmmm.
• I have a new friend who lives next door. His name is Ross and he is very sweet but lives alone and walks his two cats on a leash. He brings me excessive gifts including CD's, DVDs, an address book with a picture of his dead mother in it, a pen, vegetables and the like. He is very lonely and is a good reminder to me to not push people away for the rest of my life or I will end up like him.
• My brother is overseas with his mate and is currently being an obnoxious straight edge hardcore kid.
• My finances are looking up for the first time in ages! Fuck that's a great feeling.

There's a fair bit happening at the moment and I am feeling strangely calm with a ripple of manic energy that constantly runs through me. The fire is starting to come back to flame after some time of being nothing more than a tiny glow deep in the dark embers of my soul. Ha! Sounds like a bad cock-rock lyric. But it's true.

Head Miles

There has been some big news that will be affect my life dramatically.

Rocket's coming back from Singapore.

To Newcastle!

She has lived and worked in Singapore as an ex-pat in the corporate Rat Race for the last 4 years, has gone through a divorce, danced on many a bar, contracted a weird tropical virus and has given it a million percent. And now, that's enough. Time to come home.

I lived with Rocket for a while back in Bondi and we had some amazing times. Most of them revolved around the beach: walks on the beach before work, swims in the ocean after work until the sun went down, drinks at Ravesis overlooking the beach...and there were some hilarious moments. One night I brought a date home to our house and as I put the key in the front door I heard footsteps thundering down the hallway. When I opened the door, my wide-eyed man friend and I were greeted with a horrified and drunk Rocket running naked down the hall towards us, all arms and legs and tits going everywhere, heading for her bedroom. She knows me inside and out, flaws and all, and we've been there for each other through thick and thin.

The question is: what the hell is going to happen to us when she comes home? I am so excited about the prospect of her being here with me that I am jumping for joy, but I also know that it's going to be tough for her. I have been home for almost 6 months now and am only just starting to feel normal. You do a lot of "head miles" while you are away from home and they don't stop just because your physical self returns. So I will be there for that little Rocket when the time comes!

In other news, I have lots on this week which is a nice suprise. Dinner with Crafty tomorrow, Birthday lunch on Thursday, barbeque with the Oz-Canadians on Friday, house hunting on Saturday.

It's only taken 6 months but finally, I have plans!!!

Uncle Tommy

Uncle Tommy died last night. We're not sure how, think it was a massive stroke or heart attack. He was pretty old - I think he was 89 so he had a good life, a good innings, a good shot.

I saw him just a couple of weeks ago, we rode the bus together for a couple of stops, I gave him a kiss and hug goodbye and off I went. I'm happy I had that opportunity. He was a good bloke and a nice man. He walked my mum down the aisle when she got married because she dad was missing in action.

Whenever someone dies it reaffirms 2 things for me.

1. Life is precious and is not to be taken for granted of
2. We hope we are going to live to be 89 but it may not be that way.

Longevity runs in my family. We all live to be about a thousand. Well, not all of us. Cousin Matthew didn't make it to 16 which was especially sad. If I live to be an old lady I don't want to have any regrets in my life. Hey, if I get hit by a bus today I don't either!

Anyway, here's to Uncle Tommy. I will burn the candle for you tonight.

Lunch time Chats

I just had an embarrassing experience.

I bought a salad for lunch because I am on a diet. It was the last thing I feel like eating but the thought of potentially being naked in front of someone for the first time in 6 months is enough to make me eat a bowl of leaves. So, as the doors were closing in the lift to go back to my office I had a chat with my salad – “You do look ok, I think I can eat you.” Then someone hit the button and got in.

I said “Did you just hear me having a chat with my salad?”

“No,” he replied. “What was the chat about?”

“I just said ‘You look ok, I guess I can eat you’”.

The guy looked at my salad. “And what did it reply?’

We both laughed and I got out of the lift, embarrassed.

Then my salad said “I’m going to be delicious Tatey, wait and see!”

The problem with having a boring weekend is that you can't wait to get back to work

So I had a pretty boring weekend overall with some tiny highlights. This was mainly because I am overcoming the (S)Whine Flu.

Firstly, was Friday night's Grand Opening of Make Space which is a great new store and project of Renew Newcastle, one of the only things about this town that I wholeheartedly support at the moment. I helped out with logistics since my "creatives" dried up some years ago. It was good fun, I got to hang out with some cool little kids and a guy who played the didge while being backed up by various tracks. Very vibey.

Saturday was a non-event. Sunday continues.

So now I am so pumped up and ready for work! Yeah! Can't wait to get back to the desk, start smashing the keyboard and answering that phone!

Everyone has needs...

and mine is and always has been a blog!

For my 6 readers that have been following my "works" for some time, I'm back. I started my first blog back in 2003 and it was by far my favourite, although my recent travel blog was probably more interesting.

This blog is to blog the journey of another kind - Coming Home. And while I have been home in Australia for almost 6 months now, I have only just arrived in many ways. And not only did I come home to Australia, I came home to my "home town". Newcastle.

This Blog will feature Newcastle in quite a lot of detail, as well as other such topics I love to lament about. This includes:

-My love for the Crocodile
-Living at home with my mum at age 32
-My job
-My friends all over the place
-My reflections on current affairs, events, music, culture, food, the recession, politics, fashion and the internet

I'm not guaranteeing it's going to be good so read on at your own risk...