The price we pay for beauty.

It's 2011 and as you may be aware, I've decided that this year will be AWESOME!!

In that light, I've decided to overhaul a number of things in my life and top of the list is dropping a few excess kilos. Well, ok.  Fine.  Maybe more than just a few.

Anyway.  There are a number of things going on in the peripherals of my life, none more important than the fact that my youngest child starts school this year.  Like. O.M.G.

Now.  I have battled weight issues all my life.  I do have some legitimate reasons for finding it hard to shift the weight, but at one brief, glorious point of my life, I was kinda hot.  Actually, I was really hot.  Ok. Fine. Really hot may be overstating the issue a bit.  Hot to luke warm. A man once walked into a street sign because he was checking me out.  I have witnesses who can, if required, provided a notarised statutory declaration to back up my claims. Seriously.

But that's not important right now.  What is important is that I've decided to reclaim my hotness, or rather, my luke warmness and get my yummy mummy on.  The thought of my child being ridiculed because mummy's ass is generous fills me with dread.  Plus I want to feel good again.

So, where to begin?  Well friends, this is the course of action I took.  I was in a pharmacy earlier in the month and noticed that they were having a sale on one of the millions of differently branded shakes that essentially are the same thing.  Buy one box and get one free.  Really???  Cool, sign me up.  See, it was all carefully researched and well thought out. Errrrr, ok maybe not so much, but hello???  Buy one GET ONE FREE!!  

I'm now in my third week of the shakes and I'm seeing some results.  You have to look really hard but I think I'm starting to see the outline of some cheekbones and the scales are advising that I have dropped some kilos. And I'm pretty sure my pants are a little loose.  Ahhhh  woooooooooo  hoooooooooooooooooooooo!

The only thing is...  and trust me, it's a wee little thing that doesn't really impact my life unless I cannot get access to a disabled toilet within very quick walking distance, there is one side effect.  Now I know.  Those toilets are there for disabled people.  Trust me when I say...  I need it. Besides, it's not like I'm parking in a disabled spot.  Now that warrants indignation.

Has anyone heard of sorbitol?  For those of you that have answered in the negative, allow me to enlighten you.  It's the stuff they put in artificial sweeteners so it's sweet without the sugar content.  And do you know what this stuff does to the human body?  It produces anal leakage.

ANAL LEAKAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Have you ever heard of a prettier way to describe an involuntary bowel movement?  I know I haven't!

Judging from the amount of times I've had to excuse myself of late, it's doing it's job. Not that I'm complaining.  I bought like eight boxes of the stuff and with 20 sachets per box I have at least another month or two of a very brisk walk to the disabled loo very far from my office.

Here's the thing though.  I'm actually enjoying not having to think about lunch.  Plus I'm saving some $$ by not having to buy and over priced and over cooked pasta or foccacia.  I'm starting to understand the science of the shakes and the effects it has on me so I can now almost time the mad dash to fit in around my appointments.

Sure, the shakes are a bit, oh I don't know, blah.  But since I'm at work and that's a much bigger blah, who cares? I'm starting to feel better about things (although my bottom doesn't quite share the enthusiam) and I'm actually contemplating going bike riding with the kids. So it's all good.

One thing I can advise with authority.  Consider what you put into your mouth on the days that you do the shakes.  Trust me.  That falafel roll with tabouli, tahini sauce and salad may make a nice break from a liquid lunch.  But coming out...  Different story. 

And unless you want to get a written warning from management and be reported to the Department of Environment for toxic gas emissions, please, I beg you.  Use the disabled toilets.  It's the lesser of two evils.

Playlists... and the forward button.

I like to think of myself as modern and with it (laugh if you will but I've been surfing the net way longer than the new generation!) but I must confess playlists on the iPod/iPhone confuse the hell out of me.


I am a child of cassette tapes.  I have many a fond memory of loading my ghetto blaster (my sweet 16th birthday pressie) with a brand new TDK cassette; 90 minutes thank you very much; and listening with FBI secret agent intensity to the radio to record the top 40 hits.  You'd wait with baited breath, finger poised above the record button, ready to start recording the nano-second your song started.  Then you'd sit, alert and waiting, ready to hit pause or stop before the DJ could ruin your mixed tape with crap.


Ahhhhhh.  Good times.


These days, it's all about downloads on iTunes and other programs I have no clue about.  Unless of course, you're into piracy and find you tunes on some naughty programs.  I believe there's one called Lemon String ;-) or words to that effect.


Me?  I prefer to download the proper songs, not so much for karma and not wanting to rip anyone off, although that is a factor.  My main reason is that I want the pretty album art while my song is playing.  Shallow?  You betcha.  But I hate that big treble clef that you get on your iPod when the song in play has no art work.  Stupid I know, but I still cannot work out how to import art into my iTunes account and quite frankly I cannot be bothered learning. So I get my tunes from iTunes.  But don't tell my husband.


I have amassed 1400 songs to date on my iPhone that I have personally selected.  There are over 4000 on my computer. Somehow, there are playlists I've not created myself with the exact same songs that are in other playlists.  How did this happen?  I'm too scared to delete them, just in case someone is watching and plans to haul me before a magistrate.


With so much to choose from, you'd think there'd be nothing to complain about.  Fear not friends.  Too much is never enough.  With such a large selection, there's never anything to listen too.  I mean 1400 songs FFS!!! And for some reason I spend most of my drive skipping songs until I find one I want to sing too.  WHY??????????


I have spent hours in front of my laptop, scrolling through my playlist and not being able to delete songs I haven't listened to for over a year.  What is it that compels us to keep stuff 'just in case'?  


Some songs I repeat.  Over and over again.  Others?  NEXT!!


Anyway.  That's my whinge for today.  I kinda pissed myself off tonight on the drive home.  It's like men and the bloody tv remote.  But that's fodder for another post.

Babies... a fiery and controversial issue.

Really?  Apparently so.

Nothing creates a bitch fight, or storm in a tea cup quite like babies.  As in making them, giving birth to them, raising them, feeding them, dressing them.  Shall I go on?

This past week, in a flurry of satin, organza, lace, lip gloss, hair pieces and glory, Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban announced they had welcomed a second child into the world via a 'gestational carrier'.  Weird term, it means surrogate, but whatever.  At the end of the day, they wanted another child and went down the road of surrogacy in order to fulfill this dream.

The level of vitriol directed at this couple has left me somewhat shocked.  Some of the comments posted on facebook were vile.  I mean really people, you should be ashamed of yourselves.  

Even the press got in on the action, with accusations of designer babies and other nonsense.  Miranda Devine wrote this little article:

Buying a baby - not a pair of shoes

While she writes beautifully, I have to say I vehemently disagree with everything she's putting forth in her argument.

As a woman who has had issues with fertility, I can understand the lengths that some people go to fulfill their dreams of parenthood.  Some are luckier than others and can afford the option of surrogacy, while those of us that can't go down that road exhaust every other option available to us.  

No one has the right to pass judgement on anyone's journey to parenthood, unless of course you have first hand knowledge on the fertility issues of the parents in question.  Which I suspect Ms Devine does not have, re; Nicole Kidman.

The term designer babies is used too easily these days.  My idea of a designer baby is one that is custom made.  That is, eye colour, hair colour and perfect genetics predetermined and chosen before conception.  Not a couple's egg and sperm fertilised and then placed into a surrogate to carry.  What's designer about that?

People whinge and moan and carry on about a loving family wanting to have another child when out there, there are 'natural' parents who don't understand the concept of being a parent.  How many children are there in our society who live in fear and danger at the hands of parents?  I'm betting a lot.  Isn't it a better idea to focus on this issue?

Carrying a baby doesn't make you a parent.  Raising one does.

Congratulations Nicole, Keith and Sunday.  I hope your darling daughter and sister brings you all a lifetime of joy.

A new beginning??

So, I think it's fair to say that the last year, aka 2010, was brutal.  I mean, really fucking brutal.  On a scale of 1 - 10, with 10 being the worst, I'd rate it as a 25+.  You follow?

In fact, those poor souls who had to be in close proximity to me at the end of last year heard a large amount of C bombs, F bombs and not to blow my own horn here, I think I may have invented some new foul language that would make some truckies and bikkies blush.

Without rehashing all of the drama, I had a car accident (my fault), dramas at work (NOT my fault), meetings, threats of intimidation and finally a court summons.  What can I say...  December 2010 was freaking awesome duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude.

Needless to say, New Years eve we were all in bed sleeping.  Now I know that the change of a calendar does not a better year make...  but here's hoping.

To aide the recovery and to hearld in better times for me and my kinsmen, I've decided to feng shui my life, see a spiritual healer and run a smudge stick through my house to release the negativity.  I reckon one of these has gotta stick!

So here I sit, crushing dreams and creating a world of pain for myself and my colleagues in the line of duty. I'm living the dream.

Here's to a better 2011 people.  We can only hope!!