Monday, June 22, 2009
What we think and what we say need to guarded with utmost diligence and discernment. All too quickly our opinion and prejudice falls in the way of the truth of the solution.
How often do we sit in silence and listen the the problem of a friend, colleague, partner, sister or brother? Very rarely. We believe we must conjure up a solution. Help. Give an answer however foolish it may be. But perhaps our mere presence and light touch of the hand is all they need.
I challenge you. Are the words you utter going to progress or prevent the situation or problem?
Be present. This is the key to great relationships.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
And it has been. I am happy.
Friday night my high school friend Chez and I took the hour and 15 minute flight to Byron Bay to see Kylie, the missing piece in our 4, (Rachel jetted to the UK for 2 years). Chezy and I decided, being ladies of leisure, we really should drink a glass of red...however, empty stomachs, a flight deadline, and sculling wine is not conducive to sophistication or ladies of leisure. I needed a medium fries from McD's to soak up the alcohol that was impairing my vision, while Chez followed a man into the bathroom, noticed a pilot, whom she considered asking if he was flying us to Byron. Thankfully she noticed that urinals are not meant to be in the same place we go to the bathroom. Normally shy and awkward Chez spun on her feet and retreated, tapping a strange man on the shoulder on her way out; "Wrong bathroom" she claimed as she found her way back to the females.
We barely made it on the flight, sitting momentarily in our giggles, before realising the FINAL CALL was flashing for our sake.
Byron Bay was perfect. Friday night was spent sipping cocktails and devouring tappas in a Cambodian inspired terrace overlooking the dark beach. It was good to have the 3 of us back together again. Even if we were freezing in our dresses and barely there gloves.
We managed to pull our heads from the pillow Saturday morning, and slide into the spa by the pool, wishing soy latte's would appear in our hands. Later we enjoy a brunch of gourmet organic Byron style on the deck, once again gazing at the beach. This time it is crystal clear and perfect.
The Lighthouse, destination of tourist and locals alike, proudly and prominently over looks Cape Byron, protecting the residents from the foes of pirate ships and liners. We park our car, don our Haviana's and shorts (it's a lot warmer then freezing Sydney) and apply the suncream. A policeman pulls up in his car beside us.
Me: "Are we allowed to park here?"
Police man: "No, that will be $400 each." We pause. "I just wanted to warn you, there's a man along the walk flashing he's dick at people." A little taken back we giggle. "Nothing to worry about, just ask for a closer look than knee him. I'd love to be a chick for a day and inflict some pain. Unfortunately I carry a gun for a living. Have a good walk girls".
We embark. Half laughing at our macho policeman, half searching the bushes for WatchDickMan.
20 minutes in, gossip over old school friends and scandals is flowing, as we climb the hundreds of stairs. Down trod a pair of shoes, then some knees, blue shorts, and OMG, the tiniest little pin dick I've ever seen (not that I've seen my share), flopping disgracefully out his shorts. We stop talking, mid sentence and pass in silence, our eyes diverted anywhere but the sad little man, with a poor excuse for a member. If your going to be flinging it everywhere, at least make sure it's a descent size. Seriously!
The light house and view was breath taking. A rescue helicopter was hovering close and low, while boats searched the rocky grave bellow us. Someone was lost. We said a silent but pleading prayer.
Our walk took us along the heavenly beach, which saw me strip off and dive between the waves and white sand. Mid winter ocean swims that aren't cold. Is it better in Heaven?
We ambled through the hippy shops, snacked on sushi and edemame on the beach and drove towards the country with the sun setting over the mountains. We fed horses, and played with dogs. Watched chick flicks, drank copious amounts of red wine. Video-ed a hello for Rach in far away London and snuggled into bed, relaxed and tired from a perfect day of 4km walking and love advice between fitting rooms and red wine.
Sunday we visited the hippy markets in the hills, where pot and tarot were as common as chemists and camera shops at the local mall in Sydney. I wished for the morning I had been born into a hippy commune, and had dreads and sang folk songs on a colourful pillow while sipping chai.
It was sad to leave, but the sun was setting over the mountains, natures way of reminding us gently, the perfect weekend was over. The plane to reality was waiting. As we were boarding, the captain, who was welcoming us on the 'helicopter' of a plane, expressed a keen like for my bonnet hat with pink bow. I in return made mention of how I liked his captain hat, and would he like to swap. I spent the majority of the flight with the captains hat on my head, while holding Chez's hand through the turbulence.
When we were safely and landed in Sydney, I ducked to the bathroom at the back before we got off. Suddenly, mid wee (squat wee - cause no one sits on plane seats), the lights went out. Not only that, but it was up there with the longest wee of my life. There I was, in pitch blackness, wee-ing my heart out with no light. I heard voices coming from outside, and commotion. It took a split second to realise, the male voices were inches away from where my bum was held high above the seat, naked. I wee-ed faster, convinced they were about to open the door, and reveal my humiliation to the crew. Thank goodness my body obeyed and I escaped the black hole and found my hat again.
There really is nothing like a weekend with girlfriends to relax you, give you a tan, and make you happy for friendships that span school days, boyfriends, heartbreaks, new jobs, a parent's death, moving away and the fear of the future.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
I wonder if I have any readers left?
I wish I could wake up and it would be summer. The crystal blue water would be swimmable. The enemy of the wintry darkness would be a memory of the past.
The curtains remain down, I get afraid to lift them. I ignore the weather man, and don my self in the warmest woollies, desiring to ignore the shifting of the breeze. Today it is blowing in from a snowy mountain somewhere south.
I have writers block today. My feature film is but 6 scenes out of first draft completion. My short film cannot get beyond the Meet Cute.
Do you feel the anxiety rip through your chest when you want to express every emotion in you, but the words are so locked up they can't even be forced out.
Does anyone have a suggestion for writers block? Or a bad dream. A bad dream might cause a new revelation.
I danced in my room the other night. It was late. The house was sleeping. I wanted to express this feeling to someone, and my feet carried the rhythm.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
The first group I made coffee for were a bunch of young guys who I just assumed were drug addicts on the streets. I later found out they were male prostitutes. One of them had a girlfriend with a 7 month old baby.
We went to four stops. The 'gay' strip, the 'normal prostitute' strip and the last two were for transgender prostitutes.
I saw one girl as young as 13 with several old men. Another lady I met looked like she could be a librarian.
I had been out the previous weekend in that exact area, clubbing in my brand new shoes and designer dress. This week I watched as girls dressed just like me trotted past, drunk and ready to party.
I feel like I've been eating a 5 star meal enjoying every bite, but suddenly turned the plate over to see it infested with worms, magets and disease. This is our city.
Beneath our glitz and glamour of the 'fabulous' and the wanted is a decrepit world.
I ask myself, what will it take to change this society. How can you pull people out of an addiction that consumes their life and gives them purpose?
The only way is through Love. Without Love we perish. Without the touch of another human, we search for it in the meaningless.
From the pimp to the addict prostitute to the john their is void of Love. From the alcoholic parent to the abused child to the abandoned family Love has not been learnt or cultivated.
What have I to offer to a world in need?
The touch of my hand, the word of my heart and the smile of a friend.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
But what I over look as I walk to my car at 5:01 (and not a minute later) is the pillows and blankets hidden in the trees. Disguised so skillfully, with the art and precision of someone who does this daily.
At night, the darkness engulfs the city and the shadows are no longer shadows from the light. They are our realities. The truth of our city and what we have ignored as a society and what we continue to perceive as the fault of the victim, rather than a problem with a basic solution.
Every evening they come and gather their blankets and pillows, with relief for a dry day creased on their foreheads. Outside of my office, beyond those red doors, on our doorstep sleeps a person or two, every night. Literally on. my. doorstep.
When you chose love, you give up the right to be right.
Friday, March 20, 2009
We are all guilty of it. And it makes me think.
Our generation has access to more information than ever before. We know more than our parents sometimes. Our world view is being constantly shifted and challenged by the media and other peoples opinions.
So really, we can not blame ignorance for our inability to act or move because we know what is happening. We see and hear it.
I experienced this in a life altering reality that took place several days ago.
Myself, B and my friends G and A were running through Town Hall at 450 on a Sunday afternoon to get to a shop before it closed. Let me set the scene. The city, bustling with people catching the train home after a day of shopping. We had left our bags in the car with my friend, as we were literally running into a store and out again to pick up my phone. After a 1 minute run G and I realised A wasn't actually with us. Assuming she had fallen behind and would be waiting for us we got the phone and went back to find her. An hour and half and increasing panic later, we still couldn't find her. With no money, no phone and little knowledge of the city we had no idea where she was. Security guards in several shopping centres and train stations were looking, her husband hadn't heard from her and we had called in a group of guys to help us look. It was like an ugly thriller movie. The night grew dark and the sky poured piercing rain and my heart beat in my mouth as my knowledge of human trafficking and drug rapping ran unprotected through my mind.
Our last stop was the police station. They told us, as unavoidable tears spilt down our cheeks we had to wait another hour to file a Missing Persons report. I could not believe where my night had lead to.
We headed to sit in the protection of a fast food joint, with nothing left to do but wait and watch the streets. Her husband finally called, telling us A was OK. She had gotten on a bus and made her way to her restaurant where she called him. I wish that was the end of it. Unfortunately the ugly truth reared its head. While we were running, she fell behind and called out to me, but I didn't hear. Before she knew it, she had a hand around her mouth and was being dragged into an alley by a Lebanese man. Her panicked eyes scanned the sea of people, as they watched as she attempted to fight off her attacker before being shoved into an alley and his brute power forced upon her. I hate to think what the out come could have been, but thankfully one decent person was to be found in that see of bystanders. A man came and punched the guy and told her to run. Disorientated she found a cop and through sobs and panic begged to use his phone. He refused but offered compensation of a free bus pass. Rarely do I swear but when I heard this, every swear word I have ever known found my throat and like vomit to the stomach these words poured out and I wished they'd found that Dick Head cop.
What kills me more than anything though is not the cop or even the Leb who shamelessly attacked a girl in broad day light, but the people who watched this happen. How do we see something like this, and stay immobile? And would I have the courage to react in this situation?
It is not ignorance we will be punishable for. We are not longer ignorant because we hear and see whether we want to or not. It is our complacency to act and do something. Whether it be a girl being attacked in a shopping centre or a child dying of starvation in Africa, we forget to put legs on our words and knowledge.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I sit at the bottom of the office stairs, and often the business men mill around my desk and have impromptu meetings. So there I am, checking facebook sneakily as our President, Benefactor and Executive Director discuss acquisitions and other businessy stuff I don't understand.
On the middle landing of the stairs stood the ladies from Marketing, chatting aimlessly, and at the top one of the IT guys (thank God he isn't hot).
So I'm on my way up the stairs to deliver a letter to finance, when my new shoe catches on the stair, and I go sprawling, up, the stairs. Praise the god of wardrobe, I was wearing pants. But my pride was distinctly ruined for the rest of the day.
No one laughed, they all just rushed to my side and offered help. I would have much preferred the men to have belly laughed and the ladies to have giggled, so I could laugh at my clutsy-ness and escape to hiding behind the desk.
President still walks past everyday and asks how my knees are doing. Their bruised thank you very much.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
I'd mistakenly left my wallet in the office, so after work, I ventured down again. The 15 minute walk seemed hardly a deterrent. It was raining, my feet hurt from my boots, and it was peek our.
To get to the city centre, I walk past a bridge. There is a commune of homeless people who live under here. Every day they are there, rain or shine, drinking beer and smoking. I always think of taking some food to them, but I'm secretly scared of the old men. But this time there was a young guy. About my age. Lying alone on a sleeping bag, smoking. All around him was peak hour traffic and rain. He caught my eye and I looked away quickly. I felt like I was invading someones bedroom. But my heart was caught.
I bought my shoes, found a skirt on sale and felt as 'happy' as Carrie Bradshaw at D&G sale. And then it hit me. I want to 'save the world' and get kids off the streets. I want to see poverty ended and equality established, yet I was going to walk past that young guy tonight, back up to my nice car, and home to my warm house, without even a blink of my Mac massacred eyes.
So I bought a hot chicken, juggled 3 big bags, and my umbrella, and dodged the tooting horns and speeding buses back to the little island under the overpass.
I'll admit, I was scared shitless. What the hell was I going to say. I'm well aware that homeless people hate 'charity' and people feeling sorry for them. I scripted my intro;
my friends just cancelled dinner on my, and i have a spare chicken, would you mind taking it?
That didn't sound condescending right?
He jumped up, came over, with a toothless grin;
yeah! Thanks! What's your name?
missBee, what's yours?
We chatted for a bit, and I said I'd come say hi soon.
I dodged traffic back to my car, and shoved my purchases in the car. To be honest, I don't even care about the shoes anymore. I was full of joy.
When was the last time you stepped out of your comfort zone and loved someone. A stranger? It's so simple. Smile at the person serving you at the check out. Or the Afgan refugee at the petrol station.
everyone you meet is always fighting a harder battle.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
It's been apocalyptic here in Oz Land. At the top of Australia, we've had flooding all over QLD, resulting in a few deaths, including a little boy being taken by a croc swimming down a suburban street.
And down south in Victoria nearly 200 people have lost their lives in bushfires, most of which were lit by arsonist. Still there are 20 fires out of control with over 1, 000 houses completely destroyed. Australia is a place of great sadness as we contemplate the reality, we aren't as lucky as our complacency allows us to believe.
This has been a summer of record shark attacks, including one yesterday in Sydney Harbour. Scorching heat up to the 40's (that's Celsius, which is really, really hot) over the weekend which saw us in bikini's and nothing else, and now I am rugged up in wool pants and a scarf, as a cool change hit Sydney and sent us running to the boxes of winter clothes.
Today I received news, an acquaintance took his life, and my dear friend is still fighting a hideous cancer.
400, 000 people will soon be jobless, homelessness will double, at least.
The statistics are enough to make you give up.
In spite of it all, courage has risen in the weakest, and a perseverance is steadfast and unrelenting. Communities are coming together, and a Nation is groaning for justice. For peace.
How easy is it to find peace in our hearts and heads when we are confronted with uncomfortable truths and disturbing thoughts of other peoples worlds?
Sometimes I clear the plans for the day, leave the phone at home, and drive. Find a winding road where bush and nature cocoon me in their safety. I lie on a field of grass, where ants and caterpillars know no better and find peace on my bare skin, with the sun falling gently without condemnation.
Happy Valentines Day lovers.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
we watch natural disasters occur on TV, devestated for the victims, but never considering we could be one
listen to the news and hear about a family killed in a car accident, and are thankful it is so far removed from us
get a message from a friend saying her boyfriend is cheating on her and are a little smug because that would never happen to you
but when something does hit close to home, it feels like every window and door has been shattered, letting an unwelcome hurrican blow through the safest place you think you have.
the only death i have experienced is grandparents. two grandpa's in 6 months. while it devestated me, and caused a family depression for a couple of years, you expect your grandparents to die. they're meant to.
and when my friends' parents started passing away from cancer, heart attacks and car accidents, i held their hands and cried with them, but it never pierced my heart to the point of paralysis.
however today i face the reality that death brings when it hits closer to the bone. a close friend and someone i plan my children to grow up knowing well, is hit with cancer. Cancer. at 21. i know kids have it, and teenagers, and young adults. no one is really immune to it. but it still shocks. it still hurts.
we haven't spoken for a couple of months. life gets busy and our lives are seperate now. i thought she would always be there. we send heartfelt messages from time to time, built up with words of affirmation and love. it doesn't seem enough any more.
i keep seeing her in my mind, lying in intensive care, having bone marrows, blood transfussions, chemo. how did she get there?
i think of her family, a family much more than just friends to us. are they sitting by her bed, couped over in sorrow. is her little sister fearing becoming the oldest? is her gorgeous little brother afraid? her mum and dad, the most beautiful people in the world, are probably falling asleep at night, crying in each others arms.
i feel like i should do more. but there is nothing i can do. but pray.
friends are the family you chose for yourself.
may you not take a moment of your life for granted.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
So here's my Totally Awkward;
3 years ago, when I was last 'falling in love' with a boy, we spent Christmas Night up on a beautiful look out. We hadn't kissed yet, and I had a feeling tonight would be The Night. Que the stars, blanket and canoodling. It was all there.
After snuggling and whispering sweet nothings for a few hours, we decided to get off the blanket, and wrap it around ourselves, (obviously we were cold, it wasn't at all a way to get even closer). As we're getting off the blanket, out pops a discrete, yet obvious, fart.
I died. I wished for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Every bone in my body turned to glue and my face was as red as Violet's was blue in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Being the gentleman he was, he didn't say anything and pretended he didn't notice, and we did end up having very romantic, non-farting kisses all night.
But even now, the memory sends my stomach into turmoil and I hope for the reminder to be wiped out of both our minds.
Your brokenness doesn’t define you. The person you see in the mirror, is not the person I know. You still look as good as that photo you hold in your mind, of the last time you ever felt desirable. That mistake you made? No one remembers. Your friends aren’t speaking about you when you leave them. Your family look forward to seeing you each time you return. The world has not marked you a mistake. And you have a place, a plan and a purpose. End the regret. It’s creating a worry mark on your brow. You are more loved, desired, adored and wanted then you think.
These are the words we are afraid to whisper.
What is it you’re afraid to tell that person?
Have you told your partner/boyfriend/girlfriend/mum/dad/best friend how much they mean to you? Do they know you love them?
What was the last kind sentence you spoke to someone?
Maybe today, your sitting at work, on your bed, in your living room, feeling a little worse for wear. Do you sometimes feel like throwing the towl in. starting over somewhere new? Leaving behind the people you don’t think truly love you?
Those words are meant for you.
I hope they touch the core of your heart, and you fall back into the memory and security of who you are. And what you mean in this world.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Rob and his friends jumped to their feet and yelled "F*^% You! You Suck!"
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The café where I work, employs a lady who thinks she is Princess Di the second. She tells me all about her Italian lover, in the Mediterranean, and how he flies her over to Italy first class, to sip expensive Italian wine and eat caviar. Her wrists jingle with exuberant gold, and she loves to show off sparkling rings, even while serving coffee. Which she does with a face that can only be compared to Oscar the Grouch and Naomi Campbell. In my most bubbly receptionist voice, I greet her and ask how her holiday was;
Wrinkly Princess; Oh alright. Italian Lover kept buying me designer dresses. And now I’m back in this shit hole.
Me; (Being even nicer and annoying). Oh I’m so jealous. An Italian Lover who buys designer dresses? That amazing!
Wrinkly Princess; Oh it’s so annoying. He just keeps wanting me to be the hottest girlfriend. It’s such a competition between him and his other Pilot Friends. But I get to spend a week on a yatch in Greece so I don’t complain.
Me: Well you must miss him now your back.
Wrinkly Princess: (Snarls) Well I’m stuck in the f@$* hole working and bored again. (Slumps her head on my desk) I hate it here.
Sounds to me like she hates where ever she is, and complains, even when wearing a Versace gown on a yatch. Upon leaving, I waved Bye and said ‘See you soon Wrinkly Princess’ and she raises her eye brows, roles her eyes, and groans. That is all. And when she drops her keys on the way out yells SHIT!
I’m sorry, but did she forget that she is 50?! 5.0.! Dude, that behavior is just not cool!
And to add to my ‘Women Need To Grow Up’ rant, an old lady, at least 90 comes in today, and instead of politly acquiring my attention shouts “Yooo hoooo” and starts demanding names and numbers of people who worked here 30 years ago, leaving her lovely cane sitting on the desk and peering over my shoulder while I find the information for her. RUDE!
And that is my rave about people. But mostly people are nice. I guess the Golden Rule is, you just have to be nice first.
I finally made work friends, (which only took 6 months) and we had lunch today (I finally feel like a working girl in the city). I feel to grown up sometimes. We discussed mortgages and raises and bonus’s. My non-work-friends and I talk about Gossip Girl and Fashion and boys.
I entered adult world without so much as a blink. You know some nights you wake up, and try to adjust your eyes, and figure out where you are? That is how I am feeling. I am figuring out where I am. Because I’m not a student, I don’t work full time, and I’m not an actress yet. So what am I?
Philosophically I guess I’m just existing.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Subject: Of Great Importance.
There is a matter of great concern walking up the stairs right now. Carrying a ladder. With a great tan. And bulging biceps. And an amazing jaw line. Heart-melting smile. Singlet wearing. Smelling of summer and sun screen.
I advice. No, urge you. Get off your buts, stop pretending to work (via poking me on facebook) and come have a fricken perv!!!
*Don't worry about it now. He's gone. But not without a brief flirt session and me holding the door open for him and his Big Ladder. I swear I looked like one of those girls off the Price Is Right.
I'll let you know when he comes back to ask for my number.
Hope your is less boring now.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
This is a story that gives a well rounded explanation as to why girls need to go to the bathroom in herds.
When I was still at high school, our music class went to see The Lion King the Musical. I was the only girl who went on the trip, and was hanging out with the mus-o guys, who were actually punk rockers doing music as a ‘bludge’. So naturally, I acting my coolest.
During intermission, I went to the bathroom, by myself, and quickly rushed back to ‘hang out against the wall with the boys’. I was so hot! All the old ladies seeing the Thursday matinee were totally jealous I was friends with the boys with piercings!
After a good ten minutes, and a lot of walking around, including up the stairs, I began to notice a slight breeze up my legs, up to my bum! Strange I thought, and I reached around to readjust my school skirt. And that’s when I felt it. The world froze. My skirt was stregically tucked into my undies. All the way up. The entire audience, cast, crew and the rest of Sydney, had seen my bum. My make up melted off my face as I blushed every shade of pink, red and purple and plucked out my dress, holding it down firmly, noticing a few snickers from the audience around me.
I didn’t look any one in the eye for the rest of the day, but I’m sure those boys were the slightest bit nicer to me.
Friday, January 16, 2009
The end of my pay fortnight always leaves my wallet a little worse for wear. I reflect on the deliciously fash purchases I made in the last two weeks, especially the new skin care range I needed, since my skin was majorly reacting to the heat of summer.
I have a case of forgetting that this working girl, only works part time. 4 hours every afternoon. Most people don’t really consider this work. But really, I do work hard. I promise. I have to count the mail, (today there’s 5 letters, but some days I have 1000’s), then I have to do the media reports and summaries for all our current media coverage, and send it out to our directors, board members and other VIP’s with unnecessary titles to placate their profile. That all takes about 2 hours. And in between I deal with the phone calls. Some people can be so rude. Lucky they have a receptionist like me who knows how to deal kindly with people who utter the words, do you even know who I am?
Once all that is done, I have to check my facebook, emails and blog, and read yours (thank god for the amusement you all provide!) This usually takes two hours, and in between I manage my acting and writing career, google Gossip Girl, and update myself with Perez. Work can be busy!!!
So in light of my penny-less Mimco, I have had to come up with some sure fire ways to go from feeling like a slumdog to millionaire. (PS – if you haven’t seen Slumdogmillionaire please, please, please do yourself a favour and see it!!! It deserves every award and more!)
Here are my fab pick me up’s.
1. Forget splurging on a mani in a noisy Asian nail studio, buff, polish and shine your own nails. I don’t know about you, but personally, if my nails aren’t done, they literally feel like they are aching! Don’t have time to wait for them to dry in between a busy social life? Paint a nail at a time throughout the day at work. That way, you only have to worry about one nail being wet while typing and answering phones, and you get a more relaxed finish.
2. Can’t afford to buy this months Vogue? Just jump online, check out the hot links, and window shop from your computer screen. And there's always a comp or two to enter.
3. Wash your car. I hate this job. I would much rather pay someone else to do it then have to get out the hose and suds, but driving in a clean, hot little car, blaring Britney makes you feel like a ‘cast’ member of Laguna Beach.
4. Stay in. I hear the sharp in take of shock. Instead of seeing BrideWars or He’s Just Not That In To You, wait for cheap Tuesday when it’s only $10, and spend Friday night on the couch with your favourite chick flick, red wine, thai (always a nice cheap meal) and your bestie’s. Tonight it’s Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and What Happens in Vegas.
5. If you’re a member of the gym, you’ve most likely already paid for it this month, so make the most of it. Nothing feels better then not wanting to go, making yourself, working up a sweat, and coming home feeling more energized and skinnier. I did a yoga class this morning and feel fab!
Or you could be wise with your money and stop buying Sass and Bide jeans and gladiator flats so you can afford to go out and pamper yourself. Either way, I hope this weekend is exiting and adventurous!!!
Do you have more ideas on how to indulge yourself and spend less?
Thursday, January 15, 2009
I had an OMG moment today. I went to the Gallery this morning to see an exhibition by my favourite artist, Monet. I studied him all through high school, and dream of walking through his garden. He is seriously a genius! I reckon if I lived 150 years ago, I'd have a massive crush on him and his big beard. So anyway, I'm walking through the crowds of other Culture-Vultures, admiring the works of the Impressionist painters, and there, smack dab on the far wall is the White Water Lillies. I studied this in year 10 and dreamed of walking across the bridge. (My art trip to Paris was cancelled in 2002 by my school for fear of terrorist! so I never saw it). But standing in front it today, forgetting about all the other people around me, even the pain in the assAsians pushing their way through, I had to catch my breath, and stop an embarrassing tear. It was a moment, where you understand the beauty and importance of art.
That's all biatches.
Love you, mean it, later.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
1. Going into the dirty, over crowded staff kitchen, desperately needing a green tea to accompany my caramel kiss, and getting the last tea bag. It was like it was sitting there waiting for moi.
2. Finally making friends with the girls my age. We now have regular afternoon gos sess. ‘round my desk.
3. Getting compliments on my hair. That only took 5 minutes this morning.
4. It still being sunny and hot outside.
5. Thinking about going for a swim in my fav pool on the harbor. (I’m too scared to swim in the ocean after a series of shark attacks. It’s Jaws 5 here in Oz. Great whites are up 80% leaving me swimming only in the safety of an enclosed 4 walls).
6. Applying my new Elizabeth Arden lipgloss at 30 minute intervals.
7. The phone not ringing for 20 minutes.
8. Not doing any work.
9. Reading fun blogs.
10. Booking my hair extensions next week. I’m totally going to be the Australian Blake Lively!
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
These are the issues I worry about in the heat of summer, rushing back from a glorious lunch with the Acting Girls.
As usual, our conversation centred around the perils and adversity of dating in Sydney. A city of 6 million, in which I estimate 1.5 are men in their twenty-somethings. And yet, we are all still single.
Kate-Hudson-look-alike and Femme-Fatal-Wanna-Be and myself, a self confessed Wanna-Be-Hollywood-Starlet.
I'm really not sure what there will be left to talk about when we are eventually in relationships.
Kate-Hudson is sleeping with the same guy as four years ago when she was 20, although he is still with his live-in girlfriend. She is chasing a CK underwear model, (who is the hottest guy I literally have ever seen), and I wish I had the guts to tell her, he's just not that into you. And so each acting class and party and function and casting, where he is, she makes a complete and utter fool of herself. A stray cat has more of a chance of getting in CK's pants than she does unfortunately.
Femme-Fatal is gorgeous, just struggling, like all of us, in the dating arena. She has never had a boyfriend and is a walking monument to Man's stupidity. She recently asked out Body Builder from class via text, after 6 months of intense flirting and prolonged kissing scenes. He said he'd love too. But when she suggested dinner and a movie his response was I don't think my girlfriend would be to happy with that. Ah, you kidding me? WTF!
And then there's me. We already know the story. I can't get a break. BM has laid off the stalking, and I'm enjoying the break from avoiding phone calls, incessant texts, and church stalkings.
I watched these friends, who I was so dubious of in the beginning, so pleased to have found such delight in the darkness of a city crowded by the illusion of happiness and friendship. Sometimes the greatest friendships arise out of the least likely places.
More than once in the past month, have I been thankful for the guidance of Carrie Bradshaw and the ladies of Manhattan. They taught us how to date, who not to date, and that being single can be fabulous.