Friday, March 30, 2007

Burst My Bubble . . .

Just received some A3 frames for some promotional posters that I'm using in the boardrooms at work for a very creative campaign to get clients to refer other filthy rich people to our business I might add - sometimes I surprise myself . . . but wait . . the most exciting thing was the packaging. They all arrived wrapped in bubble wrap. Not the piddly little bubbles, no not the little bubbles but gargantuan big boofers, just waiting to be burst.

Fantastic, better than swearing out loud (another of my favourite pastimes - someone of my age should be more demure but hey . . . fuck it). Within moments four adults ranging from 24 - 50 are all playing touchy feely with these little pockets of air. Whilst the exhilaration was short-lived it was truly excellent. The only man present at the moment is a Polish Argentinian (not normally known for their robust sense of humour) who gave a wry smile but refrained from participating . . he likes to watch!

Opposites

What's the opposite of misogynist? I think I might be one.

Healthy Tadpoles

I was listening to TripleJ on the way to work this morning and heard that pregnant women bearing male foetuses (or is it foetii) who eat a lot of red meat run the risk of their sons being infertile. This got me thinking about infertility - it is Friday after all and the mind tends to wander around lunchtime - so I wondered and found some very interesting information on how to preserve/maintain male fertility. (All in the name of Newsletter Research of course because I'm hard at it - work that is!) So c'mon boys do your bit for the planet and give the girls a rest from calendar watching, taking temperatures, waving their legs in the air for 15 minutes after sex or suffering the indignity of IVF . . get those tadpoles swimming . . . here are some practical guidelines on maintaining your potency.

Don't have intercourse more than three times a week. More frequent intercourse may reduce the number of viable sperm in the semen. (I can see that working)

Time intercourse to coincide with ovulation, which usually occurs midway between menstrual periods. (That's once a month fellas!)

After intercourse, spend ten to fifteen minutes quietly in each other's arms before getting up. (No problem, he'll fall asleep straight away)

Exercise regularly but moderately (no, sex is not moderate exercise). Maintaining a high level of physical fitness increases the possibility of conception.

Avoid excessive consumption of alcohol (Nooooooooo!)

Try to eliminate the stress in your life as much as possible. (hari krishna, hare hare, krishna krishna . . ohm maddy paddy ohm)

Don't smoke (the sex had better be good, no durries or beer!)

Stay cool: A man should not wear underwear that holds his testicles close to his body. Sperm require cool temperatures to remain active. Avoid hot baths, hot tubs, jacuzzis, saunas, and steam baths. These indulgences may reduce stress and create a sensual mood, but they can also reduce your ability to impregnate your partner. (So if you made it in the jacuzzi, it's all over red rover!)

Do not take any drugs except those prescribed by your physician. (Drugs are bad for you. Mkay)

Do not consume animal fats, fried foods, sugar, or junk foods. Do eat pumpkin seeds, bee pollen, or royal jelly. (No of course! Go for something that comes out of a bee's bottom!)

Eating, half a dozen oysters, lean red meat, and crab may help. They all contain a high level of zinc, which is essential for motility and production of sperm. (Well at least you can eat well even if you have given up durries and beer and your beloved budgie smugglers)

Strict adherence to a gluten-free diet has enabled some previously sterile men to become fathers. (I take back what I said about the food, rice cakes and semolina?)

Good luck you father's to be . . .





I Thrive on Recognition

Recognition . . I love it! Rare but very flattering. Yeay. Someone across the Tasman is interested in the unintellectual ramblings of a hormonal grumpkin in Oz. Now I feel super spesh after being linked to NZPubcast. But don't tell anyone, their subscriptions are getting so popular that they'll have to start paying for their server space and that would mean dipping into valuable beer cash (or is that cache). It's an exclusive club and despite offending one of its main contenders this week (sorry Dodge) they've kept me up there. It's great to feel wanted but now I have to lift the humour level, become slightly intellectual and God forbid, start drinking beer!

I think not . . got a nice bottle of Bolly off the boss for running a good Seminar this week . . .much more to my taste and another piece of recognition . . c'mon cloud nine!

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Musically Speaking

I'd forgotten how fabulous Jeff Buckley's prophetic Last Goodbye was until I heard it again at lunchtime today . . .I'm also partial to The Block Party fab English Band with something new to offer and I wish someone hadn't nicked my Groove Armada Love Box . . . really!

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Yarpy Real Estate Agents

Despite ClareBear's protestations that I make assumptions and am a racist - might have had something to do with me discouraging her from dating a Tanzanian man she met in a nightclub on Saturday night . . . I do generally have a problem with white South Africans. Whilst I work with one who's quite nice and funny . . . he's definitely got the white supremecist thing going and hasn't lived there for 27 years! Then there's TheBoss's friend Yarpy who has met me on several occasions but was so drunk by the end of each, he reintroduces himself every time he meets me .

But the current irritation comes as a combination of a dyed-in-the wool South African Real Estate Agent. So put that white supremecist, 'I can't make it in my fucked up country so I've come to make lots of money in yours' atttitude with hard sell real estate training and you have an asshole of gargantuan proportions with none other than a hyphenated name (always thought that was pretentious and non committal too - either keep your own name or change it . . it's like being bi-sexual - make up your mind). Anyway he knows we're for sale and keeps telling me that he wants to represent us then in the next breath tells us how shit the block is:

Too many trees (Yes, we like hugging them)
Watercourse (What? in this drought)
Not enough bathrooms (Does the word 'demolition' mean anything to you?)
Asking too much (think of the commission asshole)

Despite deriding our property and asking price, he's still interested. Now he has a buyer who wants 16 blocks - 80 acres - on our side of the street . . .but will only share if we sign an Agent's agreement . . . I don't think so you right wing, fascist, money grubbing, real estate agent - show me the money Yarpie, show me the money!

Gentle Persuasion

It's taken a long time, but I think I've nailed it. You can get a man do to exactly what you want him to do if you make him think it's his idea in the first place. This is an art ladies, it's taken me a long time to perfect and I still don't like the lack of recognition I get for initiatives - because everyone thinks they belong to 'him' - but that aside, at least I get my way eventually . . .the beauty of it is that they don't even know they're being persuaded It's gold.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

Gunna Baino

Well it's cool, breezy, I've cleaned the house, put out the washing and now I have absolutely no excuse not to clean the interior of my filthy car other than . . .it was supposed to be my birthday present from DrummerBoy in October! I should get on with it, I'm gunna clean my car, I'm gunner blow the leaves, I'm gunna weed the garden then I'm gunna crack open a bottle and watch Sunday Arts . . .actually there's only one of these that I'm really gunna do.

TGIF

Went to a good show last night. Richard Glover is an ABC radio personality who has a drive time radio show. I haven't listened to it for a while as I only live about 20 minutes from work and tend to listen to TripleJ these days, it's not a long enough trip to get into heavy 'issues' on talkback. Anyway, he has a segment on Friday afternoons called Thank God It's Friday - where he invites a load of 'personalities' and usually of the comedic kind to comment on issues that have arisen over the week. So . . .now he's reproduced it on stage.

Other celebrities on the panel included hilarious expat American Tommy Dean, Mikey 'I had more talent when I was fat' Robbins, Jean Kitson - satirist and comedian and Anthony Ackroyd the self-deprecating Tasmanian. It was great, and cheap! $32 well spent! Well it will be when I pay Thommo for the tickets!

Very funny apart from two small things which often persist in comedy 'shows' of this kind . . and I don't understand why. One is the need to get the audience to participate in a usually lame and mildly satirical song, the other is the customary musical interlude by some Australian burlesque has been - in this case the poor old Toni Lamond . . . this age old entertainer's main claim to fame is that she's Helen Reddy's sister - you know "I am woman hear me roar". Her much older sister. . . she should have come on in her dressing gown and slippers . . .now that would have been funny.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Election Problems

Yep, viagra aint gonna help this one . . . no cialis ingestion will help me here . . . it's our State Election in NSW on Saturday and I haven't a clue who to vote for. I'm socialist by nature so the current Labour Government seems OK except they're driving the state into debt with poor policies and lousy spending practices and because Australia has a wholly labour state government and a Liberal federal, the meeting of the minds is damn near impossible, even on bi-partisan issues such as water management. Or there's the liberals . . .mmm don't go there but maybe it's time for a change . . .there's the Outdoor Recreation Representatives who like four wheel driving, shooting, riding in national parks, fishing in protected areas etc. Or, there's the No State Parties Party who are trying to abolish local government altogether and centralise control in Canberra. This spurred me to check exactly who was registered:

The usual suspects
Australian Democrats
Australian Labor Party
Australian Liberals
Australian Nationals

The less well-known
Australians against Further Immigration - because we know the .28% Lebanese community are all terrorists and the Chinese are taking over our selective schools

Christian Democratic Party - because atheists aren't very democratic. God's law rules and gay people are bad mkay

Horse Rider's Party
- I like that one but I haven't actually ridden a horse for 4 years . . .and their poo makes a mess of national park habitat apparently - not half as bad as wombat holes!

One Nation - yeay, I can convert that old white sheet into a sexy pointy KKK Hat - Ploise exploine

The Fishing Party - because fish is good for you - even the little teeny weeny ones and the really, really rare ones

The Shooters Party - because guns don't kill people, people do

Save our Suburbs - another bunch of extremist right wing let's-put-a-fence-up and start a vigilante group to keep the delinquents out ratbags

Socialist Alliance - now we're talkin' - free public transport - staged withdrawal from Iraq - up for controlling climate change - I'm beginning to like this bunch even though they don't have a snowflakes chance in Hell of getting a candidate up . . .

Then again, I live in a blue ribbon liberal electorate controlled by raving pentacostals so my vote just cancel's out one of those right wing ratbags attempt to gain power . . . ha ha . . wouldn't you know it, they haven't got enough funds to re-register their party!

Now I'm decisive and empowered . . . I don't think the Socialist Alliance would have been represented at my Liberal dominated polling booth . . . and I'm damn sure they wouldn't have a "How to Vote" card so I'd have been stuffed anyway.

Simple Pleasures

Billecart Salmon Champagne

Clare and Adam

Tickling a dog first thing in the morning

Cup of tea first thing in the morning

Rain on the roof

King Island Brie

Lost, Top Gear and Iron Chef

Beautiful bed linen

Girlfests

There will be more . . . I'm trying to adopt a positive frame of mind . . .

That Certain Time of the Month

I'm not so fragile today. The problem with being pre menopausal is that everyone puts your gripes and bad temper down to hormones or pms . . . not any more you shitkickers . . . hrt is doing its stuff! I'm just a cranky, bad tempered, prima donna and proud of it!

Monday, March 19, 2007

Walk a Mile in My Shoes

So you've worked at your current place of work for six years . . . been instrumental in establishing their policies, procedures, marketing materials, human resource management, mentoring, refits, database integrations, costing services, service level agreements with clients, liaison with manufacturers and suppliers and all the manifestations of running a small office as well as maintaining their website, doing all their marketing, writing a newsletter and managing three staff members.

Then . . one day . . .the Partners ask during a performance review (which I designed by the way)"Where do you see yourself in five years time . . .?"

OK given that I'm 50, hanging onto a property that should render about 21 700 sq metre blocks and a close to $2 million in my pocket - if I'm patient . . . I said that I'd like to get rid of my Practice Management responsibilities and work part time doing marketing. Well that's the last time I tell the truth at work. I meant in five years time you nit wits . . . not right now!

You'd think I'd have learned by now. So my Practice Management responsibilities are being pared away and given to another member of staff who is very capable but simply not as experienced and time poor and there's every likelihood that she'll leave within the next 3 years to start a family.

The insult does not end there . . . another body is to move into the 'quadrangle' the hub of the workplace where I can hear and see all, resolve issues and keep my finger on the pulse. As a result, the new body is to have my position - my lovely workstation. I 'm relegated to a corner with some partitioning, away from my administrative colleagues so as not to 'influence' them and to allow them to blossom without my influence . . . I am pushed from the hub that's kept me so well informed over the past 2 years and allowed me to be an employee/employer advocate. I'm dragged so far away from this little hub that there's no way I will know what's going on day to day . . . I can't see anyone and I can't hear anyone . . . perhaps I'm not meant to. I have a quiet wish that it all goes to hell without my influence and control but I don't think so.

All this I can take, the rejection, being shot off into a corner, losing 30% of my responsibilities but . . . I will not sit at a second-hand table without a proper keyboard shelf or drawers. That my dears was my 'best friend's' suggestion this morning when I asked for a new workstation . . . she thinks I am a monster for demanding that I will not be relegated into the corner on someone elses hand-me-down . . . especilly when a part-timer gets my lovely position and my lovely workstation.

After chucking a major wobbly . . I think I have at least preserved my desk and my sanity. I will retain my lovely workstation so that I don't lose face in front of everyone who will surely think that I'm on the way out the door if I'm caught working at a second hand table that used to house a guillotine and franking machine! Was I wrong to protest? Well I don't think so, it's not about the desk, it's about respect and sending a clear message to everyone that even though I'm out of sight and mind, I am still important, highly paid and highly valued.

So from early April I will be totally disarmed, I will be the one in the corner, near the front door that doesnt' know what's going on and is constantly mistaken for the receptionist due to my location . . . I do hope real estate picks up soon . . .or that Thommo gets a shot of empathy and realises what it's really like to be an employee rather than an owner. Walk a mile in my shoes babe . . .It sux feeling insecure, financially vulnerable, wondering if you're really valued or just an encumbant that's too hard to fire. Ah . . .this used to be such a lovely place to work but too much change, too little planning and not a lot of empathy has done me in.

Friday, March 16, 2007

I am happy because . . . .

  • It's Friday
  • I went out for dinner last night with ClareBear and DrummerBoy and had oysters and veal with prawns, asparagus and bearnaise sauce
  • My kids are the greatest things on the planet
  • I'm going out for dinner tonight with Thommo, The Merry Widow and Struth Ruth and will be given plenty of dirty jokes
  • The Princess isn't limping much this morning
  • I get to lie-in tomorrow (wishful thinking but I dare to go there)
  • The grass is mown
All is well in the world . . .

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Armchair Radical

I have become an armchair radical, not something I'm proud of but I'm just looking for the right vehicle to become involved. I could train my princess to be a companion pet and keep little children and the elderly happy or clean up Australia once a year or join a tree planting group but I want to make more of a contribution.

I'm outraged by Guantanamo Bay and the treatment particularly of David Hicks. Five years imprisoned and only now does he face a kangaroo court and bogus charges when prisoners from other governments have been transferred home and many set free. I watched SBS our multicultural channel last night an the injustices received by an Al Jazeera journalist, detained for 2 years, deprived of liberty, food, comfort and his beloved Koran which was unjudiciously flushed down the toilet in front of his eyes. Hey, I work with a bunch of radical Christians that would declare open war if someone did that to their bible or peeled their bloody fish decal off their car. How does a middle class, widow, mother of two and woman of modest means get involved in something more than feeling powerless to do anything. I lobby via the internet, I'm a chronic letter writer but feel that I'm really nothing much more than an armchair radical with a load of strong opinions and a bucket of good intentions. I am a prime example of good people standing by while bad things happen . . . any suggestions?

Monday, March 05, 2007

Bring on the Ice Age . . .

I'm officially over summer . . .March is here with a vengeance and el ninio has long gone. It's hot, sticky, wet . . . some might find it erotic but I think it sucks. I long for a long, loose sweater and sheepskin slippers, an outside bonfire, my Nepalese hat to keep my ears warm and an extra doona at night. I hate the humidity, it renders me useless after about 2.00pm . . . all I can do is dip and dry, drink icy drinks, more dip and dry . . .can't function, can't cook, can't move. New Zealand is looking very attractive to me at the moment!

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Better late than . . .

This weekend is hotter than hell and the air is heavy with humidity. I can't walk out to the washing line without breaking into a sweat. Needless to say, there's nothing on . . . absolutely nothing. I've tried watching an old Stuart Whitman war movie, listening to Songs of Praise in Welsh and watching Anthony Calea's abyssmal attempt to sing Bridge over Troubled Waters. I'm not really keen on Chinese news and frankly, Asia Today is not doing it for me.

Here on my lonesome as usual on a Sunday. ClareBear is recovering from a big night at Mardis Gras somewhere else. DrummerBoy has gone to work with a hangover - damn that Yaegermeister and Red Bull . . .so it's me and me dawg waiting for the Sunday Arts show to start and sharing my computer space with a lacklustre labrador, three large eastern skinks and a couple of bull ants! Yep, they're everywhere the fuckers - my thongs haven't worked so hard in a long time. Must be the rain bringing the bastards in. Don't know if you've ever been bitten by one but they hurt - big time.

Anyway, nothing happening this weekend so I'll recap on last. Sunday was the quarterly reunion of old work colleagues and new friends Overall, Yummy Mummy, BikerGirl and myself. My turn to host the lunch. We caught up on Overall's recent trip to the US and all agreed that New Yorkers are arrogant and rude whilst the rest of America seems pretty sweet (unlike the ugly tourists you encounter overseas.) We decided that time out was the best way to discipline a clingy four year old and that at long last, Biker Girl's love life is springboarding into a whole new dimension. Food? Carpaccio of beef with mesclun salad and horseradish and seared tuna with pesto and caesar salad and a yummy lychee and blueberry fruit salad with a delicious dollup.

I love these girls. We're all so different but have a great time. Any lunch that last for six hours is a good one in my book. Just a shame that BikerGirl got knocked off her bike at the traffic lights on the way home . . .she's OK but I think the prospect of getting a car for these long haul trips is starting to appeal. Thanks babes, it was a blast. See you in the winter.