Escape to the country

By the time you see this we will (hopefully) have settled on our new house right out in the bush almost out in the middle of nowhere and I can't wait! I am so glad to have gotten out of the hellhole suburb, it really was a case of waking up one morning with a "how the hell did we get here?" realisation, but I am not focusing on the past, only the future!
I can't wait to wake up in the morning to THAT view and have my friends come stay at the 'Area 51' campground and really just surround myself with positiveness, fresh air and light... what a frickin' Hippie!

"That's not how it works, you have to move here on faith, then you'll find a way" - Beverly Donofrio's friend in Looking for Mary.

I'd been trying to track down this book for years, I loved her Riding in cars with boys (though ashamed to admit I didn't know about it until the movie came out) and I'd seen it on the shelf in my book slave days and then suddenly it disappeared into thin air ...spooky!... anyways, good old Document Delivery service at the uni (bet they wish they hadn't have taught me how to use that!) and there it was for me. It was OK, journey of self discovery, blah blah. Then  on about the second or last page when I was just trying to finish the book (I always get a bit frustrated when I see the end in sight and   just   want   to   get   the   book   finished!) when that line just blew me away. It just perfectly summed up the last 6 months of my life!

Yay me!!

Don't drink and blog...

Howdy folks, Long time no see...

So here's the update... finished the full-time 'I'm the Boss and a superwoman and I can do it all' job that nearly killed me and caused one major meltdown (as well as a few minor ones) but I got through it and almost cried when I finished and one dashing (not so) young man hugged me and told me I was the best boss he ever had! It wasn't the full time that did it, it was the role itself and I am not ashamed to admit it, it was too much for me! So confirmed when the person who's role it actually is said to me "you know I was actually quite surprised when you applied for it given that I know how much of my work/life balance is made up of work (do I need to point out here that this person DOES NOT have 2 small children??) But I made it through even though it was touch and go there at one stage (see above: meltdown) but hey... three days of not being able to get out of bed and a rather convenient excuse with a flu already going around work and no-one was the wiser!

So here's what I learned from the experience...

-G has had some really crappy bosses in his time if I am the best he's ever had!

-I CAN work at that kind of level but I do not WANT to work at that level!

- I've had too much to drink tonight to think of anymore

Here's what happened next...

I went from being a Full-Time working mum to a Full-Time single mum which is making me question which are the more immature to deal with?

Seriously.

Anyways, for the past two years it has been talked about, and even when I follow through with someone else's idea I am still the bad guy! I decided that something needed to happen so I just made it happen so here I am. And in the words of the great Barbra Feldon (that's 99 folks), Living alone (all be it with two small children) and loving it! I've moved back to the Ol' home town in order for Little Miss to start school here next year. Everything's gone and turned upside down and not everyone is coming along for the ride but I am at the point where I really couldn't give a shit, I am looking after myself and my kiddies and if anyone else wants a part of that, well they better get proving it quick smart!! For the past, well I guess 6 1/2 years since I moved out maybe, I've missed that feeling I had when I lived on my own for the only time in my life in the funkiest little apartment in Nth Carlton that was ALL mine, well guess what folks, I am back in control and it feels soooooo good. The going back to full-time mum bit I will admit it VERY tough, but I'm getting through and biding my time until I get the balance back, it's all good... as is Wild Turkey Honey Liquor... nighty night!

2.5 weeks...

I miss my blog... I found myself a little huffy the other day while planning Webolution 3 and the words "I don't think anyone is interested in blogs anymore" were uttered. Maybe not, but I'll hang on by the skin of my teeth just in case!

This last 6 months has been ridiculous in my life, I naively took on a job that, although not beyond my capabilities, was definatly way more stress than my life needs. I haven't had this many sleepless nights since the bookshop that shall not be named days. But then again at least I'm being paid a decent wage to handle the stress this time.

The temp role finished in 2.5 weeks (and counting), and look, it has been a very useful experience and I've learned a lot. Most significantly that;

a) although I can work at this level, I don't want to work at this level. and;

b) I'm too nice for this job! which has increased the stress levels big time by my not being able to just say "you're out of line" or "that's just not good enough" or "just get your shit together honey!"

I had bigger plans for my time in this role, and I thought I would be able to prove to myself that I was a stronger person than people saw me as, and that I wouldn't let people walk all over me. But then hey, If your dealing with a staff of over 80 and it's only 4 who are driving you crazy then maybe that's a pretty good ratio!

I still feel a little disappointed that It wasn't the experience i'd hoped for, but I'm sure I will be able to look back and say how great it was once I am able to step away from it all. I do like having my own office though!

So anyways, 2.5 weeks and I get to feel like me again. There will be some big changes afoot. and maybe a little bit of getting back to whats important in my life (like actually getting around to writing on my daggy old out of date blog!)

Femi-nazi? Femi-nuffy more like it... AKA my history in feminism

I identify as a feminist, but it’s such a loaded word, as I soon came to understand as a Naive first year student at a country university taking Women’s Studies because it sounded interesting.

I always heard that feminists were crazy women and they might get somewhere if they just figured out what they want as the media pitted one feminist against another with very different ideals and priorities. Of course I heard this from my bigoted, narrow minded father whose other such rants took on topics such as Aboriginal land rights, Greeks, left wing politicians, Homosexuals, Immigrants etc. Etc. You get the idea! Whose answer to any kind of further explanation was always “one day you’ll understand” which I only came to realise later meant he had no further debate and his whole perspective of the situation came from A Current affair/60 minutes. (But then again he also assumed that nobody likes Pumpkin soup and everyone likes country music and could never understand if he was ever challenged on these beliefs.)

Anyways I was going somewhere with this rant!

Ive always thought that chicks were great but thought you had to have some academic kind of qualification or have had some sort of radical initiation to be able call yourself a feminist. I remember enrolling in the Women’s studies subject and making some offhand comment to my then boyfriend along the lines of “Ha, wont my dad love it if I come home and tell him I’m a feminist... how would he cope with that first a gay son then a feminist daughter...” and then-boyfriend said “why don’t you already call yourself a feminist” which got me to thinking (turns out this boyfriend might have been useful for something after all now I think about it!).

Anyways back on the track... So in undertaking this course I discover that its not that simple... there’s your radical feminist, your Marxist feminists, your separatist, queer, eco, black, liberal, not to mention your second-wave, third-wave and post feminists and it goes on and on and on... I JUST THINK CHICKS ARE GREAT! I love it when women beat men at their own game, I believe that women can do everything and anything that men can (and more) and want the opportunity to be available to all. and I have no issue with pornography or women using their bodies if THEY ARE THE ONES IN CONTROL and doing it because they want to.

But it’s choice that I think it comes down to, and I respect if that choice includes things traditionally under the feminine gender stereotype like being a stay at home mum, a nurse, knitting, baking cupcakes or whatever floats your boat. I love that these things are being reclaimed, and I love it even more when men do them too. I think the world these days is hard for men too, and I respect anyone who can loudly and proudly JUST BE THEMSELVES! (P.S.I love knitting and baking cupcakes so there!)

Feminism still gets a bad rap, a friend of mine the other day said something along the lines of “yeah they did a lot of great stuff for women but now we are expected to do it all, work, babies, all of it.” There is a lot of truth in that, and it’s defiantly something I struggle with everyday. Life would be a lot easier for me if I were happy to be a stay at home mum/subservient housewife but I’m afraid it ain't gonna happen! It was never going to be like that. And it would be nice if the boy would come along for that ride and meet me half way but he seems to delight in making life hard for me! Things were fine before the kiddlies came along, we would each cook every second night and whoever didn’t cook did the dishes blah blah. But for some reason when the kiddiewinks came along 50’s housewife style gender divides came into play. And I’d just like to add here in my defence that pretty much the year after you have a baby is the most vulnerable time in a woman’s life and if there is someone willing to take advantage of that then you’re in big trouble lady (trust me I know!)

So how does one fix this mess, without becoming a ‘bitch’ or a ‘nag’ (my current tag). The only way out I can currently see for the boy to once again take me seriously again is to return to full-time work, it’s the only way I can see he might meet me half way, but I think I’m kidding myself there too. I want him to become a stay at home or at least part time working dad, Then I get to just lie on the couch when I get home from work until called to the table for tea (but only once it’s served up and on the table for me!) Actually I don’t think that’s how it will really be but whatever happens, I can’t wait to see how he handles it all. “This is easy” will no doubt be all I will here “I don’t know what you were winging about”, all that! But I’ll know...

How does one juggle all these identities ‘wife’(I use this term loosley!), mother, lover, career-gal, feminist without dropping any of the (metaphorical) balls? Will he ever meet me ½ way? Will those feminists on the telly ever agree on what it is they are fighting for? Join me in the next life for the answers to these questions and more...

A roller skating jam called sunday morning...

I just went for my first Roller Skate is probably 7 years (well apart from that one spin around the kitchen after I saw Whip it last year!) and hey guess what... didn't fall over or nothin'!!! Yup I've still got my skates much to the boys chargrin, they are cool, red and white, old skool (though unfortunately not hightop but you cant have it all and eat it too). In fact how I came to own these skates is kind of a funny story, one my mum will be most upset about me telling. It must have been, oh god at least 20 year ago as I was still a teenager and still going to rod runs with the fam... this one was at the Natex complex in Canberra which happened to also contain a Roller Skating rink back when there were still Roller Skating rinks around... (does anyone else remember the Zoo Roller Disco in Bendigo? I think its a paint shop now!) Anyways my dad had this hilarious idea that he wanted to please the crowd by roller skating in his undies behind the Yellow truck (out Chevy pickup) water skiing style. He went to the rink to borrow a pair and they were not amused and wouldn't lend them... so he bought them... as you do. I don't think anyone else found this caper as hilarious as my dad thought it was, especially my mum whom to which we pointed out that dad had holes in those particular undies... Anyways as luck would have it I'm about the same size shoe as my dad, well a tiny bit bigger but the stitches, breathing and lower back pain tend to kick in before the feet start to hurt so it's all good!

Pink bits!

Today was the first time I saw Pinks new video for Fuckin' Perfect. I love Pink, I think she has a great message, be yourself, you don't have to act like a slut and you can be sexy and intelligent at the same time. Highlights include at the end of the Stupid Girls film clip when the little girl picks the sports equipment and educational toys over the girly stuff, her song Don't let me get me and the lyric "all my underdogs" in Raise your glass (even though I couldn't figure out if it was Artichokes or Isotopes for a while there!)

This clip really moved me, I found myself in tears by the end and that's saying something given that I'm not even pre-menstral.

It made me so glad that I have daughters. I always though I would have one boy and that would be it, then I end up with two girls! I makes me think of something that JA said to me a while back about how she was glad that I had a daughter that I could pass my coolness onto. I hope so. I hope I can bring them up to be strong enough to be who they are, not to feel they need to conform to any kind of mould society may throw at them.

It also made me think of something else that moved me recently. I saw some pictures on facebook of the the girl who was the most pretty and popular girl at my school, she was one year below me and she was an absolute Barbie doll... she was 'Perfect'. She looks hideous now, she's had problems with drugs and she looks totally rexy, maybe feeling the pressure to still remain that perfect person? I don't know if she's ever left the ol' home town? I don't really know that much about her to be honest. It made me happy for a few seconds, but then it just made me really really sad.

This I want to say to the world... Girls... HIGH SCHOOL DOES NOT MATTER! It's only a few years and you can survive it! The most beautiful people in high school, well that's their peak... how sad is that!

It was twenty years ago today...

That one of the most defining moments of my life happened.

I broke my Pelvis...

On a Flying Fox...

Two days before Christmas...

At my parents staff Christmas Party...

Talk about a pain in the arse... LITERALLY!

So here's what happened: My dad had built a flying fox, it was one that you sat in and for some reason, rather than the cage part being down the bottom of the run, someone had tied it to the top. So up the ladder I go, sit in the cage/seat thing, untie and I'm off... all I remember is looking back and seeing that the knot was going to get caught, next thing I'm on the ground. My friend went to get my mum and I was walked back up to the house. As I said, this was during my parents staff Christmas party so they took me upstairs to the bed until things settled down a bit. Everybody was relatively calm, including me! though we could tell that I had broken my arm there didn't really seem to be anything else majorly wrong, though i did have a bit of an ache in my hip. Even when I was taken into the hospital the doctor said " I can see that she's broken her arm but I think she's just bruised her hip or she would be in more pain, but I'd better X-ray it anyway." Turned out my Pelvis was broken in two places... kind of lucky she X-rayed it as an afterthought hey! So I had to spend 3 weeks in hospital, the first 10 days flat on my back not allowed to move. Not so great for a 15 year old, Christmas in hospital and my whole school holidays gone.

I had also organised to change schools at that time so I had to start a new school, on crutches, weird crutches too because of my broken arm and having no kind of plaster on my body I got many comments of "You don't need crutches for a broken arm you know..." and the like. That was a really hard time, it took me a good 6 months to find where I fitted in at that school and spent a lot of time on my own. Had my first kind of meltdown where I couldn't stop crying and had to call mum up by recess because I couldn't handle being there. 15 is a very fragile age and all of this did not make it easy to make friends and find where I fitted in, which I think was my motivator for changing schools in the first place, that searching for where I fitted. ( I don't think I ever actually found that until my twenties anyway! guess I was just in too much rush).

So I obviously have a high pain tolerance, I remember saying to mum when I found out about the Pelvis "I thought when you broke a bone you were automatically supposed to cry" as that had been my observation at school, even all the tough boys cried when they broke their arms! The doctor also said to mum when looking at my arm X-rays "she's broken this arm before, I can see a bend in the smaller bone (Ulna I think it is?) where its been broken before".. I don't ever remember breaking my arm!!! though its very possible, I was quite a climber!

I cant believe that was 20 years ago! I can remember a lot of it like yesterday! guess I'm getting old hey!

Balancing act

I'm having one of those work/life balance dilemma's

I'm wondering how much I should give up career wise to get my family to where they need to be? There is another job going near where we want to move to but it would be a crap job. Bottom of the rung and I hate to say coz it makes me sound up myself but... very beneath me! BUT if it gets me in there and my family to where we want to go then shouldn't I bite the bullet and just suck it up? But I've worked hard to get where I am and do I really want to take another backwards step? To be honest it feels a bit of an insult and a slap in the face to have to apply for a band 3 position when I am qualified with really great experience. But then maybe I need to get in there so they can see all these things about me? I could hold out for something better, but what if something better dosen't come along?

What to do? What to do?

I mean... I'm not even a frickin' Libran!!!

What you come across when you can't sleep!

I came across this little gem when unable to sleep tonight...

Monica McInerney has a new book out At home with the Templetons and it turns out it's set in the Ol' home town. Watch this clip of her walking around and discussing the town, then at 5min 39seconds in, there's one shot that's a little close to home!

Plan B...

OK, seems its time to make a plan B...

I had figured out it was coming, the rejection letter that is, but no news being good news allowed me to keep that faint glimmer alive just that little bit. But it came yesterday. And it hurt.

I know it was wrong to pin my hopes on one thing, and to get myself so excited by something so out of my control. The realists in my life kept reminding me of that. And I tried so hard to not think about. And I guess the mental state that this situation got me into is maybe indication that it this job wouldn't have been a good idea. It would probably have been too much pressure. If the application process proved too much for my sometimes fragile emotional state to cope with what would the actual job do to me once I got in there and realised my expectations and reality were not on the same wavelength. I just really thought I was in with a chance there is all. The fact that I am qualified, experienced, full of ideas and have a solid connection to the area. I really thought I had everything they would be looking for.

But to not even get an interview is a pretty big slap in the face if you ask me!

And of course I had told everyone about it too!

I know that it cant have been anything personal if they haven't even met me! But that doesn't help me to not feel even a little bit rejected.

Fact is that work is about the only thing I am feeling any kind of confidence with at the moment. Its only place I feel like I am in control and I know what I'm doing.

I am feeling a little de ja vu here, same thing happened about 7 years ago. A company I'd already worked for, same role that I'd held overseas for said company, figured it was a given, but hey, at least I didn't have to wait four weeks with that one, I got the letter the day after the interview! It sure knocked my confidence for six, but then in the proceeding weeks I got 4 job offers out of 5 interviewed for, and ended up with a job so much better for me.

So I'm OK and at least I know where I stand now, it was the waiting I couldn't handle.

And if my past is any indication, something will come up soon and within 3-6 months I will have already moved a few rungs up the ladder!

To move my family back to the country and a more communal upbringing is what I so desperately want to do right now and I thought this was going to be it, so plan B awaits... stay tuned!

Now thats a flying broomstick!

Love the symbolism of the broom... don't use one myself, well I've tried but i just cant get it air born!

Anyways I bought my mum this old school witches broom to put by the door, supposed to stop evil entering the house. It's been there a few years but recently some flying friends decided to make it home...

I love it and guess it's the closest I'm gonna come to a flying broomstick!

Prom hiking the third....

Want to really get away from it all?

May I suggest hiking down to the Lighthouse at Wilson's Promontory for a couple of nights? No Phones, No Telly, Not much noise at all really!

The boy and I went on our (seemingly) annual Wilson's Prom holiday last week (seemingly annual as we have gone down three years in a row now!) This time we hiked down to the lighthouse which you can go straight down to with a relatively easy 20 km walk, but we took the hard way via the east coast staying a Refuge cove the first night and conquering several killer hills on day two! But I have to say it was definatly worth it for the two nights staying at the gorgeous cottages at the Lighthouse. We didn't really know what to expect, thinking it might just be basic cabins with a cold toilet block... no way! We are talking bathroom to ourselves with super hot showers, full kitchen facilities, tell you what, we would have packed very differently! so I guess we'll just have to go down again!

White Whales and Black Rabbits...

I think Ive talked about the boys hunting adventures here before, he's a 'traditional bowhunter' which means he uses the old 'Robin hood' style bow to catch goats, deer, rabbits, foxes and the like. Which you can imagine makes the hunting pretty difficult, you have to get really close to your prey and be a very accurate shot with old style equipment. Anyways, he was pretty happy the other day after catching a black rabbit he has seen many times up behind my parents house, it must be, or the decedent of, someones pet rabbit they let go at some stage and he has been after it for months!

Well done my boy... it tasted pretty good too!

G is for...

Geocaching (AKA. Hunting for treasure)

Not sure if I've posted about our Treasure hunting adventures in the past... but yesterday we went to the You Yangs for to search for a library related cache! Yeah daggy I know!!!

All you need is a GPS, a keen eye and a love of exploring!!!

My mum the rebel...

Well as much as you could be in small town Victoria in the mid-60's!

As I will be out of action for a while... here's a little story to keep you occupied (it's Rod's Ramblings from the latest Cruzin Magazine if the pic doesn't come up too clear.) It's about when my dad asked my mum to get down on the floor of the back of his Hot Rod to act as a balis (weight to add traction!) during a street drag race... though I have to say my mum tells the story better (probably with more embellishment!)

My mum also got caught once getting out of the boot of someones car at the drive in so they could avoid paying... except the driver pulled up next to some friends of my Granny and Jack! (for anyone who knows my Granny... she has eyes everywhere!) She got in big trouble for that one!!!

Punk'd

My friend Neonfaerie made mention of her resemblance to a certain Miss Punky Brewster the other day which stirred up some bad childhood memories... Picture this; last day of primary school was supposed to be a dress up day. The young HotRodLibrarian gets dressed up in her finest Punkiesk outfit complete with odd shoes, several bandana’s and painted on freckles... and you guessed it... I was the only one dressed up!

Such things can scar a girl for life!

Revelations...

I realised something on the weekend. You know how when your a kid and your parents lock you in your room and you think "this is a stupid punishment, all the best stuff is in here." I realise now you weren't locked in your room so much as punishment, but because your parents were at the end of your tether and about to kill you and needed you out of their sight for a while!!!

It's like other revelations you have from childhood. Like when I realised why I always got the bronze medal in ballet. (coz one girls mum always played the piano for the concert and the other's mum did all the organization of it! Politics!!) or like that time when I took my smurf soft toy to mum and asked her to wash him for me and he came back sooooo clean, then years later I found out she had just gone and bought a new one!

Does this happen to everyone or was it just me who was really gullible as a kid?

in 1970...

Our family was invited to a 70's party, (no, not in 1970, more like about 1986) I couldn't have been more than about 11. My (slightly warped) brother came up with the idea we should dress as sailors... because in 1970 we were both Se(a)men!

(No I didn't look like this!)

More chooks...

Meet chook #2 AKA Soup, AKA Brown One... Sorry i've been a bit slack, we've had her about 3 weeks now and she's lovely (unlike Ms. Roast who is still not very friendly). She lets you pat her and pick her up, comes running when she see's you coming and checks out what you are doing through the kitchen window. We are also starting to get some eggs (not sure which one is the producer as yet) so given that they are starting to make themselves useful I am thinking of re-naming them scrambled and poached!