Five Minutes till

What can I do when it's five minutes till?

Rush around to find some last minute's spill?

Or relax a bit, just chill?

How can I cope

when it's five minutes from lost hope?

When the breakdown it inevitable.

What can you do?

It's four Minutes till.

And believe me this isn't just run of the mill.

When this fails I'll just go spiraling down

And drown

In the sea of nothingness hope.

It's two minutes till

And I know I can't just chill

but can You listen as I open up and spill

Or will You be like the others

and tell me to just take a pill

And deal

It's one minute till

I can't just deal

I can see the broken seal

the water's rushing in

the breakdown is coming

but it's You I want to come running to

my rescue



It's one minute past

and I think I can last

for my hope in You has held fast

it was all about trust

The A-B-C of A-M-Y

Aah, another gloriously stolen post idea! Once you start reading, its kind of self-explanatory, so, go ahead, read on....



A. Attached or single ? Eternally single, but if you read this blog you already knew that.



B.Best friend ? P - i've written about her before. She's been my best friend since our last few years of high school, and i only wish we got to hang out more. Its not that easy, what with her newly married status, and the fact that we live almost five hours drive apart, but somehow we make it work.



C.Cake or pie ? Hmm, i'm going to go with pie on this one. I love me some chocolate mudcake but, if it came down to it, i might pick some decadent caramel, or apple, or blueberry type pie ahead of cake.



D. Day of choice ? Friday. I know I'm still at work on a Friday but its the promise of the weekend that makes Friday so good. Once you get to Saturday night, there is only one more day and your back to the daily grind - on a Friday you have the whole weekend ahead of you!



E. Essential item ? Tough question. I'm going to go with a pair of well fitted jeans. You could get away without moisturiser or shampoo or toothpaste - eating the right foods will keep you gorgeous and glowing - but a good pair of jeans ? No woman can go without an item of clothing that lifts her butt, slims her thighs and creates nice long legs. Not even debatable.



F. Favourite colour ? This one has changed over the years. I'm quite partial to red right about now...



G. Gummy bears or worms ? Gummy bears all the way. There was a time in my youth where no trip to the movies was complete without a packet of gummi bears. Worms are good, but gummi bears hold a place in my heart.



H. Hometown ? Dubbo, NSW, Australia. Also referred to as Dubs or DubVegas. We have a zoo. That is all.



I. ( favourite ) Indulgence ? Some kind of beauty treatment. I'm very girlie, but i'm kind of " no frills " girlie - that is, i dont have the money to spend on expensive treatments. But after a massage at a mud bath in Vietnam, and having had a one hour relaxation massage this past weekend, i'm thinking i'm going to have indulge in a full body massage a little more often...



J. January or July ? January, no doubt at all. First of all, its my birthday in January happy burfday to me! ) plus its summer, which beats the cold winter of July hands down. January all the way baby!



K.Kids ? None of my own yet ( they're coming eventually, be sure of it ), but i love kids. I mean, i spent a year volunteering to look after other peoples children, and thats no easy task, so you really have to love kids to do it. I spent this past Saturday night not at a pub, but with a snuffly, sick, 5 month old baby asleep on my lap after having walked him, and danced him, and rocked him around the house. It might kind of lame or desperate to say, but i liked it.



L.Life isnt complete without ? Family, friends, good jeans, cute heels, mascara, and hoop earrings. ....



M. Marriage date ? Seriously, who knows ? Sometimes i despair that its never going to happen. I'm 24 now - it'd be nice if i were married before i wer 28. When i was 18 i wanted to be married before i was 24, but that hasnt happened so who knows?



N. Number of brothers and sisters ? Two younger brothers and one younger sister. Like Paula , i always say i have two brothers, even though one of them died at a young age. Christmas Eve 1989 my youngest brother died of meningitis - he'd be 21 on his next birthday if he'd lived. It always makes me think, if he had lived, would my sister exist ? Best not ponder these things too hard...



O. Oranges or apples ? Mangoes.



P. Phobias ? Well aside from having suffered from acute social anxiety in the past ( so i guess i was kind of afraid of people... ) i dont really have any huge phobias. I dont like spiders, or snakes, or mice inside my house, but thats about it.



Q. Quotes? " It wont rain all the time " - Eric Draven, " The Crow " . Thats about all i have - there are probably hundreds of lines of movie dialogue or song lyrics that i love, i just dont have the ability to recall them off the top of my head. Except that one.

R. Reasons to smile? My neice referring to me as " beautiful girl "; finding the perfect pair of cute heels in my size; buying an album and loving every song on it; sunshine on a rainy day; listening to my mum rave on about something she doesnt quite understand, and then hearing her say something silly; reading a good blog post. You know, simple things amuse simple minds :)

S. Season of choice ? Spring. Once upon a time i would have said summer, but as i've got older and Australia has gotten hotter and drier, i've realised spring is where its at. Its got beautiful sunny warmth, the promise of growth and change, plus it means the end of winter. Yep, spring is my favourite.

T. Tag five people ?I'm going to tage five of you, but dont feel obligated to do this meme: Sheena, Laurie, Andy, Steph and Gene. Your up people!

U. Unknown fact about me ? Umm.... i find it a lot easier to fall asleep if i'm holding something. Seeing as i dont have a many, this means i am either holding my pillow or i'm curled up so tight i'm practically hugging my myself. Not exactly a world shattering secret, but there you have it.

V. Vegetable ? Pumpkin. Now, i commented on Laurie's blog that one of the weirdest things about living in the USA was that they only have pumpkin in season, and the rest of the time, its canned. Canned pumpkin. That shit is weird. I love me some good baked or roasted pumpkin with a traditional roast dinner, or pumpkin soup or pumpkin mash. Hell, i even like pumpkin pie and thats a big thing for a non-American.

W. Worst habit ? :Lately, since i've been growing my hair out ( so, for about the last year... ) i've developed this habit of running my hands through my hair and pulling out all the loose strands. I'm shedding hair like a dog man! Seriously, my mum mentioned the other day that she is beginning to tire of finding my hair on the lounge, or in the bathroom sink or on the kitchen floor. Sick.

X. X-ray or ultrasound ? X-ray. Ultrasounds are more uncomfortable. Like, if your having an abdominal ultrasound, you have to drink a litre of water before your appointment and then you have try your hardest not to pee while the operator runs the little camera-thingy over your overfull bladder. Who wants that ?

Y. Your favourite food ? I have no answer for this question - i just like food. I, from this moment on, refuse to choose a favourite food. I inevitably end up choosing chicken, when we all know i like chocolate just as much. Its just not fair to the other foods, okay ?

Z. Zodiac sign ? I'm Aquarian by birth and Aquarian by nature. Seriously, you make out a list of typical Aquarian traits and i exhibit probably 95% of them. And you, my friends, are living in the Age of Aquarius, so enjoy!

"You should stand up for what you believe in if you don't you shoul sit down," from Tessa when she was little

When she saw her father.... she ran and hugged Tessa

So a little girl (who is about six) at church today was in the hall with her mom and little sister at the same time Tessa and I were walking back from Sunday School. The little girls dad was infront of us by a few steps well the little girl looked down the hall and started running toward her dad with arms open wide like she was going to give him a hug. Well she didn't. She turned and made a bee-line for Tessa. It was pretty funny. That she would run to hug one of her big friends over her dad.

Blah.........

That all there is to it.

Life today was dull.

I read, watched TV, had some Chinese food, and pizza. yum.

Don't you just love Saturdays!!

Finals Fever

So, its semi finals weekend here for in Australia in the National Rugby League competition. There are two games being played this weekend to determine who will meet in next weeks Grand Final. I know, thats not quite as fancy a term as Super Bowl ( why is it called a bowl exactly? I dont get it..... ) but its the pinnacle of the season. So, we have two games being played this weekend - one tonight and one tomorrow night - and the winner of these games will play for the championship. How exciting! I was going to do a post detailing how i think each game will go but the first game has already started and i think i can pick how its going to end up already (the Melbourne Storm vs the Cronulla Sharks - its going to be a resounding Storm victory as far as i can see... ). However, i still wish to comment on tomorrow nights upcoming game:



Manly Sea Eagles

VS

New Zealand Warriors

Or, for me its comes down to Steve Menzies ( at top in the maroon ) VS Ruben Wiki ( right there, in the black ). Why ? Because they are both legends, they are both retiring, and this could potentially the last game i ever see either one of them play. It has to end for one of them this weekend which, frankly, is kind of sad. I dont actually barrack ( or, for the Americans in the crowd, i dont root for ) either of their teams, but you cant help have respect for two blokes who have been playing top grade professional football for over 10 years, who have both played for their respective countries, and who give everything of themselves in every game they play. They're the hard men of rugby league, the workhorses; the elder statesman of the team who inspire the younger players.I dont really mind who wins ( although if i had to pick, I'd say it'll be Manly ), i'm just exciting to see these two players go round one more time. I'm gushing, i know, but if your a fan of a sport you get attached to the good guys.

Seriously - Ruben Wikis team mates have all refused to shave until their season comes to an end, out of humours respect for Mr Wiki's fabulous beard. So that means, until they lose, no-one on the team is shaving and, as such, the whole team is sporting an assortment of back-country beards and glorious porn star moustaches. Sexy.

And what about Steve " The Beaver " Menzies ? I dont know what his team mates are doing to honour him but i believe a sign at a recent game says it all from the Manly fans:

" MANLY MEN LOVE THE BEAVER "

And I'd like to thank....

Okay, so yesterday was SYATP(See you at the Pole) and the home school group met at the church to participate. We met with Mike and Bro. David and prayed at the pole visited for a while and stuff like that. Just so you know before hand Mike said that honestly he thought I would be the only one there. But I wasn't. About 15 ended up being there eight of those being students. Which considering the short notice was a very good number. Anyway afterwards Mike took us to Mazatlan(the only decent sit-down restaurant in Joelton) and we had lunch. Of the many topics we discussed one was singers and actors and who they thank when they win something. Mike said he thought it was kind of sad when and artist won an award for a filthy song with a filthy title and got up there and says "I'd like to thank God..." Don't get me wrong there's nothing wrong with saying that but still it's a little strange to get up the having won for a song that's far from what you'd think God might listen to. So from that we asked who do atheists thank when they win something? Yep we had good times.
After staying on that subject for a little bit Mike turns to me and goes "Micah, when you get a budding music career don't be like them..."(the ones who grew up in Christian homes and stuff like that that are on the fast tract away from their roots). I agreed that I wouldn't. So then he turns to Matthew and says "And Matthew when you get a Grammy for your piano song don't go "I'd like to thank Satan". That was pretty funny.
Just so you know we aren't thanking Satan for anything. I just thought that was too funny to pass up telling you about that.
Talk Later.

See You at the Pole

This is the Pole. Did I see you there?

Faces of Ireland

Though I’d never been there before, many faces I saw in Ireland were familiar. I was told that would happen and it did. All my ancestors come from that island, but they left more than a hundred years ago. Still, the country felt very familiar.

On our first day there, my wife and I checked out Dublin on the “Hop on, Hop off” tour bus, and it was just that. About fifteen double-decker busses made a continuous loop, each with a driver/tourguide, each stopping at about twenty-five different locations around the city. If a place seemed interesting, we’d hop off and investigate. Another bus would come along every ten minutes or so, and we could hop back on anytime and resume the tour. With a telephoto lens on my new Nikon, I could zoom in on faces without making my subjects nervous, because most were unaware of what I was doing. There was no shutter delay with the new camera and I could shoot hundreds of pictures on one memory card. I sat in the front on the bus’s upper level and when
an interesting face appeared, I’d shoot it.

To my eye, there are about 20-30 stereotypical varieties of Celtic countenance for men, and the same for women. Growing up in Greater Boston, I saw the same faces on the streets, at wakes and weddings, in school, in the bleachers at Fenway Park - almost everywhere I went. We Americans of Irish extraction continued our clannish ways for generations in the United States, tending to marry others like ourselves and preserving our characteristic countenances for another century. Hair can be red, black, blonde, or brown. Eyes can be blue, green, or brown. Skin can be clear or freckled. There are certain configurations of ears, eyes, noses and mouths. There are characteristic expressions on all those faces, however, which convey a personality and a mood. It was as if I knew some of what each was thinking and feeling. I wondered if we were all programmed to react to our environment with characteristic thoughts and emotions because of our shared DNA. Did we have a common wave length with which to communicate what was on our minds or in our hearts? That Ireland is an island country and, as such, was isolated and insular for millennia, perhaps contributed to this commonality of awareness in its human population.

We were there on a cool, drizzly Thursday in August and most of my subjects were going to work or going home, alone with their thoughts as they walked down sidewalks, waited at street corners, or lingered in doorways. I was able to focus in on most without their knowledge, but some seemed to sense my scrutiny and looked into my lens at the split second my shutter snapped. Those images were particularly interesting. They were people alone in the crowd until they saw my camera aimed at them. It was more than catching me staring. I was taking their image away with me without their permission. They could do little about it since they were on a sidewalk I was atop a moving bus. I felt a little guilty each time, but not enough to stop.

Some faces had a lot of miles on them - broken noses with whiskey blossoms flanked by wary eyes. There was a hardness to them that contrasted with other faces on the same sidewalk - those that looked like poets or academics. Many had cigarettes dangling from their lips as they walked along. There were more smokers in Dublin, but not many fat people compared to, say, Portland or Boston. They were in better shape than Americans and seemed less hostile. More made eye contact on the sidewalk and smiled than would do so here. They seemed more comfortable with each other on busses and trains too, more likely to look at one another and exchange words than just stare straight ahead.

When touring Ireland’s countryside later in the trip, I experienced the warmth, friendliness and and hospitality for which the Irish are well-known, especially toward others in the clan. While getting to know some of its people, I was learning more about myself. Boston-Irish-Catholic-Democrat is the heritage I was born into, like it or not. It shaped me in many ways. There have been times when I liked that and other times when I didn’t. As with any other legacy in the human family, there are desirable traits and dysfunctional ones among the Irish. It’s the hand I was dealt at birth. How I play it is up to me.

Amy's Hall of Attractions

So, i havent posted in the last few days because, somewhere along the way, my computer picked up some kind virus and i couldnt get proper access to my internet. Which sucked. It was like killing my lifeline to the blog world and, frankly, that makes me cranky.

Anyhoo, so i thought, seeing as i'm up and running again now, I'd post about something nice and lighthearted. So what topic did i choose ?Men. Or, more specifically, men that i find attractive for some reason and my friends, well, dont. You know, if you were to say to me " You know who's hot? Robbie Willliams ", i'd be all like " Eww, no! Robbie Williams is a giant sleaze bag! What could you possibly be attracted to there ? " So here is my top 5 list of men i find attractive and my friends, for some reason, go WTF ?



Hugh Laurie/ Gregory House: Seriously, I cannot be the only woman in the universe who finds Hugh Laurie inexplicably sexy since taking on the role of Gregory House. I mean i really shouldnt - House is gruff, rude, inconsiderate, sarcastic and permanently dishevelled. But you know what ? Sometimes dishevelled and cranky is hot. I dont know why - maybe i just have a warped sense of humour, maybe its because I know House is inwardly smirking on the inside everytime he insults someone, maybe its because his eyes are incredibly blue ( have you noticed that ? Like super blue! ), but there is just something about Hugh/House that i find quite yummy.

Dennis Quaid: Come on, someone else has got to feel me on this one. My friends and my sister question Mr Quaids attractiveness because he is older than my father but so what ? I'll tell you what Dennis Quaid has over a lot of male celebrities closer to my age : he has charisma and he's manly. I like a manly man - I like a bit of rough. Dennis Quaid is rugged, he sports stubble that you know it didnt take him a week to grow - he's a real man. And aint that what i need ?

Dave Grohl: God Amy no! Look at him - he's scraggly! He has a beard! He has crooked teeth! You know what ? I dont care - the dude rocks! Talent is extremely sexy, plus i'm a fan of facial hair. Maybe not ZZTop type facial hair, no Fu Manchu style moustaches, but it goes back to the manly thing. Men have hair - if i wanted something hairless, i'd find me a pretty girl and turn lesbian. But back to Mr Grohl. Mr Grohl is hot. He plays guitar, he plays drums and he writes awesome rock songs which seems to dominate my current Ipod playlist. Which all adds up to him being rather talented, dont you think ? And, like i said, talent is sexy. You know what else is sexy ? Being a committed family man. And as far as i can gather from various interviews i've seen with him, Dave Grohl loves his family. One more reason for me to love him really.

Jack Nicholson: Okay, so Jack Nicholson is old enough to be my grandafther so i can understand when my friends go " Jack Nicholson, seriously?!? ". Well yes, seriously. Look at him - look at that devilish glint in his eyes. If i was going to go for an extreme May-December relationship ( which, in reality, i wouldnt...), I'd go for Jack. He's the kind of go you know would make for great company- sure,he'd smoke which i dont really like, but he'd tell dirty jokes, and buy everyone a round of drinks and tell you how ravishing you look. Jack would be the Good Time Guy. Plus, yoiu know, back in his prime, he must have been good in bed. You can see it in his grin.

Vincent Perez: The only reason Vincent Perez lands on this WTF! list is because, well, none of my friends have ever heard of him. If you havent either, seriously, you're missing out. Vincent Perez, as you can see from the photo above, is divine. He's Swiss born, speaks French, Spanish and English and, well, he's beautiful. He works mainly in foreign films so if you've never seen him, i forgive. But now that you have, go watch " Cyrano De Bergerac " ( on my official Top 10 Films of all time list ... ) or " Queen Margot " and fall in love for yourself.

Let them get it out, the girls can have fun watching

The past two Sunday nights at the Youth Bible Study we played the "Uh Uh" game. It's pretty funny. Pretty much your just passing the "Uh's" around the circle, and since there is grunting involved the guys LOVE it. They get so into it. It is HILARIOUS.
We were talking about it in Sunday school and Ms. Manda said that she was all for letting them have a game in which they can grunt if it gets them to come to church. She has two youth aged sons and she said that for the firs time in like two years they came home excited about something to do with church, that it wasn't just the drag it normally is. I think that's pretty cool that they get excited about a silly game. But if it works, hey let them.
Anyway after she said that, Mike(who had poked his head into our class) commented that he did that intentionally because church and youth group tends to go more for the girls than guys because it's a lot of singing, and talking about your feelings. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but guys don't really care for that kind of stuff.
And don't get me wrong the girls like this game too. Several played yesterday, myself included, but really it's a lot more fun to watch the guys have at it.
Talk later.
PS I'll try to get a video of the game. It's too hard to explain without seeing it first.

An Early Weekend By The Numbers

46 - number of candles on my mum's birthday cake on Friday night. Well, not really - thats too much weight for one cake to take! - but thats how old she was turning. Perhaps i should have made it " 46 - number of years old my mama is " ? Happy burfday anyways Mum!

6 - size of the cute new braided leather thongs i bought ( thats flip-flops for you Americans ). Yes, i have small feet.

1 - number of promises i broke. You remember that promise i made in my depressive rant ? No eating bad stuff/no spending money/no forgoing the gym ? Broken.

110 - approximate numbers of dollars spent on myself whilst breaking that promise. I figured seeing as i got my tax cheque back and my bond from the rental house i've moved out of i could afford to undulge a little.

4 - number of dvds bought in that little indulgence. I got " The Day After Tomorrow ", " Dreamgirls ", " Lords of Dogtown " and " Dogma". Seriously, i know Kevin Smith has made a few mis-steps the past few years ( hello " Jersey Girl " .... ) but " Dogma " is some seriously funny shit.

7 - approximate number of hours spent watching video music channels on tv over the course of the weekend. Since my parents have gotten " pay TV " installed, i think we've all become slightly addicted to the music channels. Including the country music channel - yes, you read that right, i like country music. Garth ? Reba ? Tim McGraw? Awesome. Variety is the spice of life people.

3 - number of video clips my mum cried over. Seriously, i get teary in romantic movies or real-life dramas ( say, like " The Notebook " or " Hotel Rwanda " ), and I'll admit to crying almost everytime i see the film clip for " Hurt " by Johnny Cash but my mum ? She tears up over those toilet paper adds that feature little boys and puppy dogs.

0 - number of dates i was asked on. Isnt that suprising....

First impressions

So, as kind of, sort of, alluded to into the last post I've come up with a list of " firsts " to complete the " lasts " from the last entry. It was inevitable really, wasnt it? I've found the answers to the firsts to be a little more telling, more embarrassing than the lasts - so many firsts happen when you're a kid, and who has impeccable taste and judgement when they're in the 1st grade? Certainly not me, although i probably thought so at the time. And so:



First movie I ever loved enough to watch over and over:

" Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I love ya, Tomorrow! You're only a day awaaaaaaaaaaay! ". Yep, for me, it was " Annie ". God, how i loved that movie. In fact, i still have an old VHS with the film taped off the tv and its still watchable. Anyhoo, there was just something about a all-singing, all-dancing, all-grinning, all-wisecracking red-headed orphan that I just fell in love with. Hell, i wanted to chuck in my parents and move to the girls home with Miss Hannigan, just so i could hang out with Annie and sing while i scrubbed floors. I think at one point in my young life, i probably knew every word to every song in that movie. " Its a hard knock life for us, its a hard knock life - for us..... "



First pet I owned:
His name was Gus, and he was a beagle. I named him after a snail from an Australian childrens TV show ( you remember, Gus, from Mr Squiggle, for all the Aussie readers... ) and he was cute and iloved him. At least thats how i remember it, seeing as i was around 3 or 4 a the time. I also remember going out shopping with my mum one day and when we got back, Gus was gone. I, naturally, was devastated. My memory, however doesnt exactly ring true ? 15 years later my dad finally revelas to me that with another baby on the way my parents decided not to keep Gus and they sold him. Whoever they sold him to came to get him while i was out so that way it wouldnt like they were the bad guys. Bad guys! My parents are the WORST guys! Who gives away a little girls dog and then lies about it - for 15 years ? Those jerks.

First day of school:
I'm not sure on the date, but i started kindergarten in January of 1989 at North Dubbo Primary School. I could possibly have been wearing pigtails ( aww.... Little Amy is so cute! ) We had a Year 6 student as our " buddy " and my buddie's name was Melanie. Thats about all i remember clearly - just being at an assembly with the bigger kids first thing in the morning. Apparently, according to an old teacher of mine, i was a precocious young child. Me? Precocious? Who woulda thunk that ?

First album i bought:
Alright, everybody get ready to cringe - the first album i ever bought with my own money was " Walthamstow " by East 17. Yep, East 17. For anybody who doesnt know or doesnt remember, East 17 were a British boy band who made techno/house-y kind of pop. If you listen to it now, its incredibly lame but, in my defence, i was 8 years old when i bought it and East 17 were the cutest thing around at that time. They were house hats! And massive baggy pants! And they had a cool dog! Seriously, they had to have rocked - right ?

First kiss:
Ooh la la - kissy, kissy, kissy! I had my first kiss when i was in Year 4 and it was a boy named Kenny. Kenny was cool, we held hands at lunch time and walked home from schoo together and it was decided that we should probably kiss. I believe this decision was made more by general playground consensus than by us. As far as kisses go, it was quick smooch, a close-mouthed peck as you would expect for a pair of 9 year olds. Ah, young love. So romantic, kissing behind the school toilets with about 10 other kids watching...

First crush:
Not counting Kissing Kenny up there, my schoolgirl crush was on a boy named Brad when i was in Year 6. Brad was like totally the hottest boy in school, and for a while there he liked me too. However, after asking me to the Year 6 Farewell ( kind of like a prom in the sixth grade ), which i said " yes! " to, a week or two later he decided that i was flirting with other people ( when i was 11 ?Come on! ) and went with my friend Lisa. No biggie - I went with Kissing Kenny.
As far as my first adult crush goes, it was while i was in living New Jersey. Roberto was a Chilean guy who worked at the local deli ( Towne Deli in Summit, NJ - go there for the chicken salad on a Portuguese roll ). He was a bigger guy, slightly chubby i guess, with a long dark ponytail. He was really charming and always chatted with me when i came into get a sandwich. I think he just came off as an all round sweet natured guy, which is why i liked him. He mock-invited me to a picnic once, for the benefit of amusing my three year old charge - funny thing was, i totally wanted to go....

First job:
I was what is colloquially known as a " checkout chick ". When i turned 14 i went and got an after school job at the local Woolworths working as a cashier. It was incredibly boring and i didnt really make friends with anyone i worked with, but it gave me a little extra pocket money to buy cds and clothes and McDonalds with. As first jobs go, it wasnt so bad really.

First car:
This wont mean anything to any of you who live outside of Australia but my first car was a Mazda 121. Alot of people called them " the jelly bean car " because of its general design - just like me, nice and curvy! - but i still think it was cool. Of course, it was red ( because as we all know, red goes faster ) and aside from one of the back door locks getting stuck all the time, the Mazda totally rocked! I sold it before i went to the USA for a year and, oddly enough, i still see it driving around town. Some blonde girl who lives a few streets over from my brother owns it. Kind of makes me sad really. But hey, i have a little red Holden Barina now, so i'm not doing too badly...


So there we go - the " firsts " and " lasts " of one Miss Amy Wells. Its actually been kind of fun reminiscing on all this stuff - taking a walk down memory lane and all that. Hope you peoples enjoyed it as much as i have. If you didnt, well, sorry much to you. Not much i can do about it now, is there ?

Sexualization

When parents tell me their oldest child is going to be in middle school, I sense they have mixed feelings. They’re proud but worried. They’re worried about their children’s loss of innocence. No parent can put that off forever, of course, but they shouldn’t have to worry about it when their kids are only eleven. When it’s parents against the culture, I hate to admit it but the culture is likely to win. Parents know this at some level and fear it.

Students are more sexual these days than I ever remember. I shouldn’t be surprised given the escalating sexualization of the entire culture in which we all live. Our children grow up permeated by sex on the television they watch, in the music they listen to, in the literature they read, and in the advertising they’re continually bombarded with from all angles every single day. So of course I’m going to see it more in class, and it can be awkward at times.

On the first day of school I passed out textbooks, just as I’ve done for decades. I have to record what number book each student gets, so I call their names one at time and they tell me what it is. In four out of five classes, at least one student said he or she had textbook number 69. Each time, there were knowing looks and snorts by other students, mostly boys but not exclusively. There should only be one book numbered 69 in the whole batch of course, but at least three students last year had changed the number in the book they were assigned. I had to decide in an instant if I was going to confront the sniggling behavior or let it pass. The first time, I ignored it. I recorded the 69 in my computer and called the next student’s name. When it happened again in the second class, I realized that at least one of the books had been altered and I had to ask myself how would I deal with it. To do so in the moment would call more attention to it. Considering that there may still be many students who didn’t know what sexual connotations the number 69 has, I hesitated. My attention to the matter would cause them to ask questions and find out. Maybe I’m naive to assume they’re unworldly, but I hope not. I wanted to believe most of them - maybe only some at this point - are still innocent enough at thirteen or fourteen to not understand why the boys were snickering. So, I ignored it the second time, but I was disturbed. This was the first day of school. I’ve been teaching a long time and it didn’t use to be this way. I ignored it in the third and fourth classes too and tried to put it out of my mind by filing it in the mental folder I call “another depressing sign of the times.”

Last fall, nearby Portland’s school board gave King Middle School permission to prescribe birth control to students as young as eleven. Last spring, the Centers For Disease Control reported that 1 in 4 teenage girls in America ages 14-19 has a Sexually Transmitted Disease (STD). I remember how sad I was reading that. I remember mentioning it to a group of teachers the same day and getting no response. It made me feel like a dinosaur. I’m not the oldest teacher in the district, but I’ve been here the longest. Sometimes I feel like yelling to students and teachers that it didn’t use to be this way, but what good would it do? It’s the way things are now and I guess it has to continue trending like this until a critical mass in the wider culture out there says, “Enough!”

I hope I’m still around when it happens.

At last....

Firstly, my apologies to everyone for my depressive rant in the last post. For anyone who doesnt know - and who hasnt figured it out yet - I actually do have depression ( its not just a little joke when i mention it... ) for which i take medication. However, sometimes the black dog rears its ugly head and i have a really bad depressive episode. This past weekend could be counted as said episode, and i barely feel in control during these moments, so ordinairly i would think twice about posting such a rant. So apologies for dumping it all on here, but many thanks to those of you who left kind and supportive comments. I could totally feel your bloggy-love...And now onto something way less intense. You know i love a good list, and you also know i love a good meme - so i'm creating both in one! Someone asked me yesterday what the last movie i saw was, which got me thinking about " lasts ". Last movie, last book, last purchase - all that good stuff. So i thought maybe i should make a record of some cool " lasts " thus sharing some more of myself with the rest of you. Brilliant idea you say? Yes, i know, its what i do. So:

Last three albums I bought:
" Pretty Odd " - Panic at the Disco
" The Odd Couple " - Gnarls Barkley
" Oracular Spectacular " - MGMT

Last three films I've watched:
" Hellboy 2: The Golden Army "- directed by Guillermo Del Toro
" Transformers " - directed by Michael Bay
" Baby Mama " - directed by Michael McCullers

Last three books I've read:
" On Chesil Beach" - Ian McEwan
" Long Way Down " - Nick Hornby
" Soul" - Tobsha Learner

Last day of high school :
I dont remember the exact date but it was some time during September of 2001. What i do remember is that i could not wait to get the hell out of there. We had a graduation ceremony - no hats, no robes, just full school uniform and the presentation of graduation certificates, and speeches by our school captains, school principal and year advisor. Kind of a snoozefest really. Even though i knew there was going to be a morning tea held afterward for the graduating students and their parents ( if they indeed attended ), as soon as that assembly was over I left. I could not stand to be in that institution one second longer than i technically had to be. Not that i hated school - I loved getting to hang out with my friends, and i didnt even mind the classes so much - i just didnt like the whole concept, the institution of " school " as it were, not by the end of it.

Last good home-cooked meal:
It was poached salmon with a yoghurt dill sauce on a bed of potatoes and cherry tomatoes, cooked by my father last Tuesday night. One word - delicious! And i know you're thinking that sounds pretty damned fancy for a home cooked meal but, frankly, my dad is quite the culinary whiz. He's not a trained chef or anything but he's just one of these people who can take a recipe, pull together the ingredients, and the meal will turn out exactly the way it looks in the cookbook. Almost always tastes pretty good too. I'll say this, my dad is a much better cook than my mum - i love her, bless her cotton socks, but she aint much of a cook unless its something fairly simple.

Last birthday you helped celebrate:
My dad's 47th, on April 25th. Seeing as my dad isnt real big on my making a fuss over himself, his birthdays are usually simple affairs. Put it this way - he says if any of us try and organise a suprise party for his 50th in a few years time he'll walk in, let us all yell " Suprise!!! " and then promptly take himself off to bed. And yes, he would totally do that, I have no doubt. Thats just the way he is ( and part of the reason i love him ). Anyhoo, so we just had the immediate family around for dinner, which my dad cooked ( yes, so very sad i know.... ) . I cant remember what he made for dinner but I was responsible for dessert -apricot cheesecake with macadamia crust. Don't salivate too hard . It might sound fancy but its pretty simple if you're the dessert Queen that i am. Any celebration or special occasion we have, i get called upon to make the sweets because, hey, its just what i do. Fathers Day this year ? My own cherry ripe concotion - chocolate mousse with blackcherries and coconut.

Last good vacation I went on:
Southeast Asia , last November. I spent three weeks tripping through Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand - completely awesome! If you search your way back through some of my old posts you can probably read a little of my adventures, but suffice to say I had some great fun touring around with 13 other people, all like minded, almost all fantastic ( i say almost all because we were saddled with two late 50-ish Brits who did nothing but complain). I got to experience some awesome culture , see some gorgeous sights, and eat some fantastic food! Seriously, you want some good, healthy, flavoursome food, hit up South East Asia. There is no better place to get Thai mussaman curry than in Thailand. Oh, and lookee here - thats me at Angkor Wat in Cambodia!!



Last " big " purchase:
So, for me, anything over about $200 is a big purchase. So, that being said, my last purchase over above this is my cute little HP Mini notebook. I've had it for a couple of months now and its serving me very well. Its nice and light and little ( just like i'd like to be... ), although the battery power doesnt last quite as long as i'd like. But no matter, its much better than my frightfully old school desktop that i was using ( and by old school, i mean its probably about 5 years old... ).

Last gift I bought:
My sisters birthday present. I was going to tell you what it is, but it has just occurred to me that she could possibly read this entry and find out. I'm about 99% sure she doesnt read my blog - firstly because she's always giving me crap about being on the computer so much, and secondly because she doesnt read, well, anything really - but even still, i hate for her to stumble upon it in the address bar drop down box and ruin the suprise. I will say that because its her 18th birthday its a special present. 18 is the legal drinking age here in Australia, so you're 18th is like a " coming of age " birthday. We're all going out for dinner and then my best friend and I are taking her to a few of the local pubs for the first time. I cannot wait to get her screaming drunk and hang over the next morning.... its going to be so sweet!

Last time I was lost for words:
I only have three words to answer this one - The Mary Incident.

And thats all, ladies and gents. I'm not going to tag anybody to do this meme ( although if I did, I'd tag Andy, Steph, Paula and Sheena :) ), so if you want to steal my idea and make your own" lasts " post then please feel free. I hope this has been much more enjoyable than my last entry - perhaps look forward to a " firsts " post in the future!

Praying for Peace

For awhile now I have been going through a rough time. I won't go into what it is because it isn't even worthing trying to. Anyway. The other day I just broke down because of it. Those who know me well know I don't break down like I did almost ever. When I did I just called out to God and I heard him telling me just to give it to Him. Now many times I have tried to give it to him. But none of them seemed to work. I'd just set down the burden for a little bit and then pick it up again and it would weigh me down just as much. This time was different. I can't really even begin to explain for it is. I prayed this time and asked God to take it and I said that even though I can't promise not to worry about it that through Him I know I could. Oh my goodness, at that moment a wave of peace swept over me. It wass amazing how good I felt at that moment. And this peace hasn't just come and gone. It's stayed. I feel good. I've even slept better since then. Even though i have this peace it doesn't mean I haven't thought about my whole ordeal but when I started to God stopped me. I haven't been able to go over and over what all has happen because He keeps stopping me and reminding me that it doesn't matter, that this isn't mine to worry about. Isn't God amazing?
In all this though, it got me thinking about how often we say that we have given up out situatons to God and then we pick them right back up and start dragging them just as we did before. How many times we really don't want to give them up for fear that we'll lose control. I was scared too. I was afraid that if I gave it to God that He would take everything away and I would be left with nothing. I relize now that we do lose control but we gain the ultimate driver of our lives. And an other thing is there can be no back seat drivers. If we give it to God we can't hand it over and tell him what to do with it. We have to give it up completely. It can be hard. And it can take a long time to hand over. But it's worth it.

Letter not yet written

Dear P,

I have had a horrible week and its only lead into a horrible weekend. I have cried myself to sleep the last three nights and although you cannot change that, I just wanted someone to know. I think this is the point entirely - I want some to know me, to be able to share intimately and, although you are clearly not this person, as my best friend telling you is probably a good start. I am your best friend right ( aside from your husband of course ) ? Because you have not answered the last three text messages i have sent in the last week or so; the only reason i knew you were in town last week was because i saw you walk past my store in the pouring rain; the other two knew ahead of time. Perhaps i am being needy. Insecure. Paranoid.

You know that Newton Faulkner song?
" I need something to believe in/
Cos i dont believe in myself.
Scared of failure/
So scared of success/
Guess it will all work out "

You know that song ? Thats me. I dont know what i'm doing anymore - not that i ever did. A couple of months back i thought i did and i was so excited, i thought i'd finally figured it out. Wasnt it all so simple ? Nope. No it hasnt been simple, and its not so easy, and nothing has happened. Nothig has changed, at least not for the better, and here i am , still stuck. And i despair at it. I'm so desperately, desperately lonely and feel i have no control at all. You know what my pyschologist said ? Go out, just start talking to someone new. How about i invite some old school friends for dinner ? Surely that would have me out and about, socialising. Wasnt he listening when i said how utterly afraid of that i am? How i cannot just go out and start talking to new people, all on my own? It is that viscious circle - I cannot go out on my own, alone, to meet new people. The prospect of propping myself up at a bar without a single soul for support is terrifying ( and probably, in some situations, not so safe ); yet i cannot find new friends if i sit at home and cry all the time. Crying silently into your pillow is not some kind of siren song with which to lure new friends to my door. It doesnt work like that. So what am i to do? Same as always - smile, laugh, fake happiness when my parents ask about my day, and shrink beneath my sheets in the dark.

I spent Friday night at home, with my parents, watching a rugby league game on tv. If i were a normal 24 year old i would have been out drinking wine with my girlfriends, or seeing a movie with a cute date. But i wasnt. I was balled up on the lounge, hugging a pillow in a desperate attempt not to burst into tears. How utterly pathetic. I spent Saturday night sitting up til midnight with a 3 year child that isnt mine, keeping her company and drying her tears until her mother came to pick her up, all the while only just keeping my own tears at bay. If i am going to sit up half the night with an upset child, I wish it could be one of my own. But that prospect is not available to a 24 year old woman with no husband, fiance, boyfriend or even potential date in sight. A 24 year old woman without a man by her side would be out on the town on a Saturday night, in a cute little dress and gorgeous high heels. I have the dresses and the heels, but no occasion to where them. No friends to invite me to a party or out for a drink. Hell, i went to the movies on my own today because I have no friends to invite along. At least i was out of the house i suppose.

" Scared of failure/
So scared of success /
Guess it will all work out ".

But it hasnt yet. I had that brilliant idea of finding a new job and moving to the coast but it hasnt just all worked out. I have applied for at least 50 jobs, and have heard back in regards to two of them. I keep searching for new positions, and i check the real estate websites so i have some idea of what kind of rent i could afford in these areas - but nothing has come from it. It is to the point now, after only 2 months, where I am scared of never finding a job somewhere else and being stuck in here in my parents house, alone and unloved, until either they, or I, die. But equally I am scared of success, of scoring an interview and getting a fantastic new job. It means moving away from the only support units i have, of finding my own way for a while - and what if it all falls apart from there? What if the success of finding a job turns into the failure of not doing it well, of falling apart, again, on my own ? Then i would only have to skulk back home, tail between my legs, head in my hands, a real loser. Maybe it isnt worth trying.

But i should be taking risks right ? Nothing comes from simply wishing, I need to be proactive. I need to take control. So i'm going to start small. For the next month i will diet. I will only eat nutritous foods and not give in to cravings for " bad " foods. I will only treat myself once a week ( whether it be chocolate, or cake, or a hamburger... ). I will go to the gym at least four times i week. I know i can push myself there, I can control what happens. And, for the next month, i will spend no unnecessary money on myself. I will not buy new clothes or music or dvds. I will save money and draw strength from knowing i can control my spending. These three things i CAN control - they arent dependant on what others may be thinking of me, or how terrible and lonely i feel. I'll concentrate on these and focus my worries and fears and despairs on these. Take my mind off things i cant control and dont have.

Does this make sense ? I know it cant possibly be easy having an insecure paranoid for a best friend. I'm suprised you havent gotten ridden of me yet. Come to think of it - whats wrong with you ?

If i had guts enough i might send this to you,
Much love,

Amy xxoo

The Campout

Last night was one of the all famous Treasure 2 Farm camp outs. Okay maybe not famous but at least around the barn they are. We got there tacked up and went on a trail ride. The trail ride was fun. One little girl fell off. A horse fly landed on her horse and her horse bucked a little to get it off and she came off. She was not hurt though. Other than that not a lot happened on the trail other than the same girl freaking out because of another horse fly (her horse did the whole kicking up a little) so I hopped on that horse, she did fine so we switched back. Just so you know the little girl is like six or seven and the saddle she was riding in is about six sizes smaller than what I would ride in and her stirrup, to say the least I did not use them. I had to dangle my feet and hold on from there since we were on a pretty hilly trail. We had a blast though. After it got dark and we had put the horses up and had supper we went into the woods and played hide and seek. Well my friend Jordan and I asked Lindsey if we could go hide down at the old tobacco barn and then try and scare the other girls. So we did and we where down there for like half an hour, waiting. We called Lindsey and texted her to tell her where we were so she would know, but told the other girls what we were doing. She told a couple of them to head down the trail and pretend to cry. It might have worked unless they hadn't all of a sudden stopped. The pretty much told us it was fake. When we didn't come out they got in the truck and left(really just headed back to where the other cars park). I called Jordan over and we walked back up the hill, by ourselves, in the dark. We were just gonna walk the next two hills and head to the barn but there were cows, that scared us. Not really, but one did have a little baby and you just don't go close to them when they have a little baby. Jordan called Lindsey and she said they were at the house. So we headed for the trail to the house and were met by someone sneaking on the edge of the woods. It was Lindsey we called her bluff and she high tailed it the other way, like if she did that we wouldn't see her. It was funny. Jordan and I just walked to the truck where the other's were waiting,yep to try and scare us they jump out of the bed it didn't work. They were kind of obvious.

That was about it for the events for the night. We went to the house and got ready for bed and crashed after a round or two of Taboo. (Note- if all possible never sleep in a recliner the won't go back. You will pay for it later.)

Everybody's working for the weekend....

Thank freaking boo-jesus that its finally the weekend! Not that i have anything extra-special planned mind you, but rather that its been a pretty dodgy week and i'm very, very much glad that its over. I've had blow-ups with customers and a colleague treating me like rubbish and general work-related crappiness, so its a relief to know that the week is finally behind me. My one saving grace the last five days has been going to the gym. It might sound odd to some of you but i genuinely enjoying punishing myself at the gym. Its a pleasurable kind of pain, pushing myself to finish a run on the treadmill even though my lungs will shortly give out or i'm starting to get a cramp in my left foot; it might not feel all that great whilst i'm doing it but i feel a million dollars when i'm done, knowing i've achieved something. And yep , its an achievement, however small. For example, this week, for the first time in my entire life, I ran for 10 minutes on the treadmill. 10 whole minutes - might not sound like much to some, but it was big for me. Sure, i go to the gym five times a week but i'm stronger and more flexible than i am cardiovascularly fit - running for a constant 10 minutes is a big deal. And a big achievement. And it felt good. So yay for me!

Another " yay! " - its rugby league finals time! It kind of sucks that my team, the mighty Newcastle Knights, didnt make it ( apparently they werent that mighty this year... ) but, hey, neither did my dads team so at least he cant give me shit about how his team is better than mine. I'm watching the first final of the weekend as i type and its been awesomely rough thus far - one guy off with massive concussion and one with a suspected broken arm. Ah, the mayhem!

What is not so exciting this weekend is local elections. Boring! Frankly i dont know how any of you American readers out there do it - dont your presedential campaigns carry on for well over a year? Our elections for our local town council are tomorrow and the campaigning started, i dont know, like three weeks ago and i am sick to the death of it. So i best be off to a polling station to vote tomorrow, if i only so i can avoid the $55 fine for NOT voting.

And thats about it - I'm tossing up whether to go and see Hellboy 2 on my own at some point over the next two days, and will surely be visiting my neice at some point ( the weekend isnt the same if i dont get a hug from Missy Moo.... ) but no spectacular, extraordinary, outrageous plans at all. So consistent, yet so boring sometimes....

At a loss

I've been trying to blog, really I have. It's just that there's too many things going on to choose what to blog about, or decide what is blogger worthy.

Anyway. Yesterday was Wednesday ( and tomorrow will be Friday: ) and of course along with the title comes a very busy day. And Yesterday was about as busy as a Wednesday they get.

6:00- woke up, got dressed ate breakfast(this is early for me and I wasn't too happy)

7:00- loaded up in the van to take my grandma to the airport for her trip to Texas

8:30- left airport and head for Rivergate

8:45- discovered that no store opens until 10:00 so we headed to Target(got a shirt and a pair of jeans so happy was I)

10:00- finally stores were open so we went down the list of where we need to go

12:00- went to Sam Ash to get a new petal for my keyboard(I could have stayed in the store forever! I love music stores!)

12:30ish- went to Jack in the Box for lunch and then headed home.

I know this is just the best thing in the world. Reading about one of my days.

3:15- went to go pick up Evan for church ( I got made fun at by my grandpa for that, Momma put it on the board as Pick Up Evan and he thought I had a date. No. No.)

4:00- set up for Praise Band and waited while everyone else showed up

4:30- Praise Band Practice went well this week!!! No major issues!!! No one freaked out,yet!

5:45- everyone rushed to go eat. Very fun won't go into how that went.

5:56- rushed to the bathroom and rushed back only to find I had about ten minutes till I had to go to the library.

6:00- Prayed with the Praise Band and did out huddle( we can't keep time unless we're playing to music, it's pretty funny)

6:30- made fun of because I won AGAIN at a game we played in youth, not my fault though

8:00- Adult Praise Band Practice( I heart you Tessa!!!) playing keyboard on two songs don't know how anyone could not like the two we are doing.

9:00- headed home finally and was told I had to be down at the barn at T2F AT 6:30 am. Yeah!!

That ends Wednesdays program thank you for watching.

Please note that this programs is kept running by readers like you (yes you). Thank you

Why? What for ? How could they ?

The question was asked in my local paper today - " Do you remember ? " Frankly, i thought it was a stupid question. How could anyone possibly forget ? Of course, I'm talking about the atacks on the World Trade Centre 7 years ago today. What kind of person could ever forget the articles and the images accompanying them, even if they wanted to ?

I was in Year 12, my final year of high school, in 2001. The attacks had occured overnight, Australian time, and I remember my mother waking me earlier than usual telling me that two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers. Still groggy with sleep i wasnt exactly sure what she was raving on about - until she made me turn on the tv. I sat in bed, still in my pyjamas with the sheets bunched around my knees, horribly transfixed. I didnt want to see planes punching holes in steel, or desperate people leaping from buildings, or faces covered in ash, a trail of tears tracing its way down their cheeks. I didnt want to see that, but i couldnt look away. I didnt want to see that , and i dont want to remember, but i do.

I went to school early and gathered around a radio with about 30 other seniors. Any 12 or 13 year old Year 7 kid that even let out so much as a peep got threatened with the evil eye and a " Shut the fuck up, you idiot! ". I think it was obvious that we all knew we were witnessing an important moment in history. We Year 12 students were allowed to have the radio news playing in every class that day, probably as much for the teachers benefit as it was for ours. I dont remember which algebraic equations i worked on that afternoon, but i do remember wincing as a light plane flew over my maths class room.

My brother worked at the local McDonalds after school, and i went with my mother to pick him up at the end of his shift. It was unusually quiet, not many families calling in to pick a Big Mac or a Happy meal; i sat at a table staring up at the tv and cried. Bawled, in fact. A totally public place, good old McDonalds Family resturant, and i had nowhere to hide, but i sobbed my heart out at what i was watching. The news reports just kept repeating the same images of people jumping to their deaths. I couldnt help but wonder what last lonely thought they may have been thinking to push them to that extreme. Nor could i help but despair at such a waste of life - and for what ? None of us really knew at that point.

I didnt know anyone in New York City. I didnt even know anyone who lived in the US, but my heart bleed for the families who lives had been irrepairably damaged by such insanity. I wondered what they must be thinking, feeling, hoping, praying; I wanted to let them know that they werent alone in their loss and their sorrow. And i did, by writing a letter to the New York Times. I doubt that it was ever published, by message of support was there on the internet, recorded for all of humanity to see. If i could have helped dig through that rubble, to comfort a crying child who had lost a parent, to donate blood or skin to burns victims, I would have. I may not have been there, I may not have lost any of my people, but i felt it all the same.

It wasnt until i lived in the US during 2005 that i got some insight into what it was really like. I lived in NJ and my host father worked in New York City. On a trip to the local zoo one cloudless, blue sky September day with my boys and their grandparents, I noticed Grandpa Jerry sitting on a fence alone, just staring up at the sky. I asked him what was going on and he told me he was just reflecting - this was as perfect a day as that one looked like it was going to be. If the youngest of the boys had not been born the day before - September 10, 2001 ( happy birthday H! ) in a hospital in Jersey - my host father would have been there, one block from the WTC, when the planes hit. My host father had lost people he knew but luckily had been given a healthy, beautiful baby boy to take his mind off all that.

I dont mean to dwell on these things of course; but isnt that what remembering is ? Isnt remembering dwelling on the past, whether it be good or bad, and whether we want to or not ? Sure, I could have gone through today pretending like i didnt know the date, had forgotten its significance, or focused on sending good birthday vibes to my little H ( who is now big... ). But kind of memorial would that be ? What kind of respect would that be showing those who lost their lives ?

Honestly, I dont particularly want to remember, but some things you just cant forget....

How does that lipstick taste Barack?

Obama is showing how shallow he really is. His image built by our media became larger than life sometime early this year and he started believing it was real. Nobody could have lived up to it and now he's stumbling. I've been waiting for this. It was inevitable, but I was afraid it might not happen until after November when it would be too late. Now, however, it looks like his "Lipstick on a pig" remark may prove to be the pinprick that popped the hyper-inflated Obama balloon in the eyes of America.

It was inevitable. Nobody could have fleshed out the image media created for him and Obama is realizing that himself. I can see it in his eyes today. It's over. Obama can speak well when he's scripted, but when he has to think on his feet, he's not very good. That's becoming painfully obvious to starry-eyed Democrats who thought they'd found the reincarnated JFK.

JFK could not have lived up to the media hype of his image either, but he was killed dramatically before it popped - so the myth continued to build. He was just as flawed as any of us, maybe more so , but one doesn't speak ill of the dead and the myth grew.

When RFK picked up JFK's mantle, he too died dramatically and the myth grew larger still. After him there was only Teddy - who seems to have been the least able of the Kennedy brothers to even try living up to the now hopelessly hyper-inflated Camelot legend. I have little affection for the "Liberal Lion" of Massachusetts, but nobody could possibly have filled out that role.

Now here's Obama trying to do it. He wants to be JFK and MLK all rolled into one. He chose Caroline Kennedy help him pick a VP running mate and look how that turned out. Biden vs. Palin October 2nd? I'd have to offer long odds to find somebody willing to bet on Biden. Then Ted passed the mantle to Obama in that big convention ceremony. Ted failed to embody the myth and so will Obama.

All this is good for us conservatives of course. Obama beat Hillary for the nomination and now he's self-destructing. Looks now like President McCain and Vice President Palin next January, but there's a month and a half before the vote and that's still an eternity in politics. Anything can happen.

Exciting, no? It doesn't get any better than this for us political junkies.

It could only be worse if i were naked...

So I couldnt quite decide on a particular topic for todays post, I thought I'd just bullet point all the stuff thats been floating around in my head the last day or two:

• To be quite honest, I have had a shithouse kind of day. Sure, I can kind of understand when a customer with a complaint gets a little nasty or impatient and maybe goes off at me over the phone, even if their issue is kind of out of my hands. But you know what ? I am not paid enough to put up with kind of behaviour from a colleague. Seriously. Yogi, a previously mentioned manager ( so named because, frankly, her face reminds me of Yogi Bear ) made me cry today. I thought managers, when turned to for advice, were supposed to be supportive, not accusatory and condescending. So sorry, that must have been my mistake. However, despite being spoken to like I am beneath her, I have risen above Yogi's behaviour. And by above, I mean I have made a confidential complaint to a manager that is senior to Yogi. It wasnt out of vengeance or trying toget some kind of upper hand, in fact i asked this manager, The Bell, in my email not to mention anything to Yogi at all. I actually tossed up even making a complaint all morning, and finally decided after my lunch break that it was in my best interests to get it off my chest. I guess we'll see what may come of it tomorrow when The Bell gets back to me.

• Plus, I have had the same customer ring me three times not happy that her husbands glasses arent back yet, even though i explained to her that I have asked the lab to rush them through and I have done everything in my power to get them back to my store as soon as possible. You know what ? Sometimes people just give me a headache. And sometimes they make me wish the earth would open and swallow me whole.

• Maybe the earth will upon up and swallow me whole - or rather a black hole might swallow the earth. ( Nice segue - see what i did there ? ). What i wanted to know is why i hadnt heard about this whole proton accelarator/ Stephen Hawkings experiment thingy any sooner than an hour before it was all due to happen. Maybe i just dont watch enough news ? Hell, if i had known about it sooner i might have gone sky diving, or got up the courage to do karaoke, or done my darndest to have hot, sweaty, passionate sex with a younger man - you know, all the stuff you'd want to do before the earth disappears into a void and we all die.

• I saw an article on a tabloid news show about the rise in brides getting botox before their weddings. Excuse me, but how pretenious are these women ? I can understand wanting to look your best on your big day, maybe getting a spray tan and a teeth whitening, of course having your make up and your hair done, but botox ? Injecting poison into your face just to look " better " in your photos? If your getting married, I'd be thinking the guy you're marrying loves you the way you are - he doesnt want to be faced with a plastic version of the women he loves unless its on top if the wedding cake ( which in my case will be chocolate mud - that fruitcake stuff is gross! )

And that be all, thats all I got. Its not much, but its all i could come up with after the kind of day I've had. I'm happy to say that the day has ( almost ) ended on a good note - its funny how pushing yourself to run ( yep, run! ) on the treadmill, slog away on the bike and make it through your weights routine can make you feel entirely awesome. Adrenalin is mucho goodo. Or muy bien, if we're want to use proper Spanish....

Why do things have to change?

Growing up is hard. And you know what it keeps getting harder. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to Kindergarten where everyone is friends with everyone. Girls think boys are nasty and the boys think girls have cooties. Wouldn't that be nice. If we could all live in a Kindergarten world. But alas, we do not. We grow up fast. And right now I wish I could just go back. Why does everything have to change so drastically from day to day. I know the Bible says that tomorrow is not ours to worry about, but it's so hard not to. Stinkin' hormones. They give you highs and lows and are never the same from second to second. Isn't being a teenager lovely.
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"Why do you think teenagers are so mean to each other," asked Pastor Mike in the Surviving School Bible Study on Sunday. Why? Answers like, "Because some think they are better than others", and "Because when you feel bad you want others to feel bad too. So you bring them down and it somehow makes you feel better." These are very wise answers. My groups answer was because we are not self confident. It's kind of cool because if you look at all the answers they are pretty much are all the same in a round about way. We aren't confident in ourselves so we bring other's down to make ourselves feel better than them. At least that's what I think it all goes back to. What do you think?
Why do teenagers constantly bring other's down?

Provocative Palins

Sarah Palin provokes. Just her presence on the national stage has the political world in a tizzy. She doesn’t even have to say anything. Being who she is creates a firestorm. And who is she? She’s someone who got into politics for reasons we say we want people to get into politics - an ordinary citizen believed she could do things better. She challenged the status quo in Alaska and won. She made it to the top as governor - the youngest ever and the first female. She challenges oil companies, the Democrat establishment, and the Republican establishment - and actually changes things. This would seem to be enough for the National Organization for Women and the Mainstream Media to make her a Goddess. But that’s not happening. Instead, they hate her guts and they’re doing everything they can to destroy her. Why? What’s up with that?

It’s because of the rest of who she is. It’s because she’s a conservative who believes in God. Those two facts trump everything else and make her unacceptable to NOW, to Katie Couric, to Sally Quinn, to Oprah, and all the rest of the Mainstream Media. Palin’s very existence threatens their whole world view and they can’t stand it. She had five kids and quite obviously doesn’t give a whit about all those extra carbon footprints. That would have been enough for the liberal media to call her crazy, but then there’s this: She found herself pregnant for the fifth time with a Down’s Syndrome child. She was in her forties, had just been inaugurated governor, and it was very inconvenient - but she didn’t have an abortion! What is wrong with this woman? It’s one thing to say you’re personally opposed to abortion, but to actually live out your life according to your beliefs even when it’s hard? Who does that anymore?

Palin didn’t have an abortion because she believes her son is a gift from God. She couldn’t kill him before he was born any more than she could kill him after he was born. It was out of the question and her husband supported her. All politicians say they believe in God, but to actually put your trust in Him when things aren’t going the way you’d like? When you’re worried and afraid? Nobody really does that anymore, do they? What is wrong with this woman?

When McCain asked her to be his running mate, her unmarried seventeen-year-old daughter was pregnant and she told him about it. It wasn’t a secret in Alaska, but nobody brought it up nationally until rumors circulated on left-wing weblogs that Palin’s fifth child was actually borne by her seventeen-year-old daughter and Palin was covering up by claiming it was hers. Many in the mainstream media reported on the rumors and disingenuously amplified them behind a pretense of objectivity. To counter the smears, the McCain Campaign announced nationally that Palin’s daughter was pregnant. Nearly all of us know people who have had abortions in similar situations, but the younger Palin isn’t going to abort her child either. She’s planning to deliver it and marry the baby’s father instead. Doesn’t she realize that left-wing feminists have worked their oversized butts off for over four decades just so that women like her can get rid of their unwanted children? Now here are two women bearing inconvenient babies in the same Palin family. What is wrong with these people?

As if all this weren’t bad enough, Sarah Palin eats meat. Worse still, she personally shoots some of the animals she eats and seems to enjoy doing so. Not only does she kill and eat caribou, she wants to drill for oil in their habitat! And her husband actually does it! in the Alaskan wilderness! While working with his hands! Talk about disrespect for nature. He races loud, smelly snowmobiles across wilderness areas too and doesn’t seem to care whether animals or cross-country skiers may get upset about it. True feminists don’t marry men like that. What kind of woman is this?

Looks to me like Palin and her husband are the kind of people Barack Obama warned us about: “Typical white people who cling bitterly to their guns and religion.” If Sarah Palin is allowed to continue her rise to political power, millions of other women may start using her as a role model. Decades of carefully-crafted, radical-feminist propaganda will go down the drain. Clearly, this woman cannot be allowed to win.

Give A Little Bit

So this is where i publicly state my intention to donate my organs after my death. Yes, Mum, Dad and anybody else who may care at that particular moment, I want to donate my organs to those who need them after my death. What has prompted this public declaration ? I have just finished watching a " 60 Minutes " article about a young Australian named Doujon Zammit.

Doujon had been having the time of his very young life in Mykonos, Greece, earlier this year when after having left one of the tourist pubs, he and his friend were set upon by four nightclub bouncers. Doujon was savagely beaten, including been hit with a metal pipe, until the point of unconscious. He was taken to hospital but, unfortunately, he was a few days later declared brain dead. His father, who had flown to Greece to be by his bedside, made the agonising decision to turn off his life support and, in accordance with his sons wishes, to donate his organs.

I cannot imagine how devastating a decision that must have been, which is why i'm taking this opportunity to make my wishes known, and to spare my parents the burden of that choice. It is, very saddeningly, a choice they have had to make before. For those of you who are new readers of this blog, I had a brother die from meningitis at the age of 1 ( i was almost 5 at the time ). They said it was just too hard to think of having their little boy cut up, of having him divided, even though they knew they could have saved others by doing so. I guess the suddenness of his illness and death ( he fell ill and died within a 24 hour period ), and the fact that you pretty much have to make the decision on the spot, was just too much to bare. I would also imagine that having lost such a young child would make the decision harder aswell. As I said, i would never want them to ever have to make that choice again.

So, as you can probably tell, organ donation happens to be important to me. I'm telling you all now of my intentions, and I am officially registered on the Australian Organ Donation Registery ( and, although not legally binding, on my drivers licence ). I am registered to donate everything - that would be lungs, kidney, heart, liver, skin - except my corneas. This is mainly because my corneas are absolutely crap and are of no use to me right now, let alone anybody else, but also because I might wana be using them in any afterlife there might be. Call me crazy, I just cant bare the idea of anybody messing around with my eyes after i'm gone.

So there we go, intentions stated and semi-rant over. I'll use this last little paragraph to urge all of you to think seriously about organ donation and if its something you agree with, let your loved ones know what you want done. You never know how soon they could be called upon to make the harrowing decision without your help....

Gods of Football

Being the diligent supporter of rugby league that I am, and also an advocate of breast cancer research, I've been perusing the Gods of Football website. Its in a initiative of one of Australia's leading breast cancer research charities, and involves high profile, professional footballers posing for calendar pictures, all in the name of a good cause. I'd like to introduce two of my favourites: David Shillington and, on the right, the divine Daniel Conn -




By sharing these pictures I'm only trying to do my bit to help the fight against breast cancer. This is in no way an excuse to just post pictures of gorgeous semi-naked men, nor is it evidence of my apparent dirty-perve status. Not at all. Ladies, i encourage you especially to take a look at the website. Really. Oh, and seeing as the pictures vying for entry into this years calendar cant be copied ( believe me, i tried really, really hard.... ) I thought i'd just have to post one of last years. Hope this one of Daniel Conn is good enough for you, even if it is old:

Only two words - Yes. Please.

My butt is getting bigger and its all my fault

Yes, you read it right - my butt is getting bigger and its all my fault. Although, my mum could have shrunk my pants in the wash* but i dont think thats it. No, I think my new found love of exercise is giving me a bubble butt. I blame this one machine at the gym ( again, I dont know its technical name... ), the one where you lie on your stomach and hook your feet around the pegs and then kick your legs backwards so your feet tap your bum. You know, that one. I think the repetitive motion is toning the muscle ( as it should! ) and, consequently, its making my butt " higher ". That makes sense right ? I mean, the last time i had my measurements taken by a trainer my waist had slimmed, the circumference of my thighs had gone down and my upper arms had lost flab - but my bottom had increased a centimetre ( or half an inch for you North American type people ). Not fair. Pretty soon I'll look like " one of those rap guys girlfriends " and i dont care how much Sir Mix-A-Lot likes them, I DONT like big buts ( and I cannot lie ). Although I suppose then i would be able to feature in the next Flo-Rida/50 Cent/ Ludacris ( hell, pick any random rapper ... ) video, except for the fact that i'm white. Maybe i could star with Eminem if he werent so busy sitting in his mansion chunking himself up like a modern day Elvis ( and no offense to either Eminem or Elvis - both white boys doing " black " music and coming out on top. Respect. )

Dont mind me, ranting and raving on about the size of my derriere either. It just suprised me a little this morning when the pants i hadnt worn for a while - and by a while i only mean a week - didnt quite feel the same. Like maybe they were half a size too small. And its also not like i'm morbidly obese and getting bigger either - I'm a size 10 ( a US size 6 or a UK size 8 for my international readers ) so even if i did put a bit more junk in my trunk - so to speak - it shouldnt be a huge concern. Just struck me as kind of odd is all, and no-one needs that when they're trying to get to work for a conference call.

On the plus side, I am rocking an awesome curvy figure. Round butt, small waist - the whole hourglass thing. I can pull off pencil skirts and sky high heels in a totally 50's retro-sexy kind of way.

I wonder if there is some machine at the gym that could possibly perk me up in the bust department too ?

* No, i dont make my mum do my washing. She's just usually up first and gets to it before me...

Left And Right And Wrong

Saul Alinsky, guru for both Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, is familiar to me. I worked with his followers thirty-five years ago.

People who haven’t known me long are surprised that my politics were pretty far left when I was a young man working on a radical newspaper called “The Communicator” in Lowell, Massachusetts with some “Red Diaper Babies.” The term refers to children raised by parents who were members of CPUSA (Communist Party - United States of America). The ones I worked with were Jewish and devout followers of Saul Alinsky - hero to the two top Democrat candidates for president in 2008. His book: “Rules for Radicals,” was put in my hands by my Lowell friends who, just like Obama, called themselves “Community Organizers.” I skimmed through it, but it didn’t grab me. Alinsky and my friends wanted to kindle a revolution, but I just wanted to change a few things. One of the group was Alan Solomont, who later went on to become Treasurer of the Democrat National Committee during the Clinton Administration and slept in the Lincoln Bedroom. Alinsky followers like Solomont, Obama and Hillary Clinton took over the Democrat Party and pushed it far to the left.

Though I’ve always been conservative on social issues like abortion, I didn’t become fully conservative until the ’90s. Having worked both sides of the political spectrum gives me a broader view than most.
Regarding this election year, neither presidential candidate excites me and I expected to be bored by the record-long presidential campaign at this point, but I’m not - anything but. American voters have a clear choice between left and right and the debates will be fascinating from that perspective. Alinsky disciple Barack Obama has the most left-wing voting record in the US Senate. Joe Biden ranks third behind Ted Kennedy. Those three are more liberal than even Bernie Sanders - the Socialist Senator from Vermont. While John McCain’s right-wing credentials are somewhat lacking, it looks like he’s chosen a bedrock conservative in vice-presidential running mate Sarah Palin. The little bit I’ve learned about her so far tells me she is the genuine article. She’s pro-life, pro-2nd Amendment, wants to secure our borders, cut government, lower taxes, drill for oil, and - she’s articulate. Like most of Middle America, she and her husband have worked with their hands and still do. They didn’t go to Ivy League universities and are unimpressed by those who did. Americans who know how to shingle a roof, shoot a gun, dress out an animal, and change the oil identify with Sarah Palin. They’re the people who really make America work and this scares hell out of liberal elitists who run the Democrat Party and purport to represent average Americans. I can’t wait to watch her debate Joe Biden.

If I could be so bold as to sum up the political dichotomy of left and right, I would say right-wing conservatives believe what Thomas Paine said: “Government, in its best state, is but a necessary evil” - necessary only to maintain order while individual citizens live out their lives privately - with the liberty to make their own decisions and take responsibility for them. Whatever happiness they achieve is up to them alone. As Jefferson put it: “That government is best that governs least.”

Left-wing liberals believe the opposite: “That government is best that governs most.” Government is the source of happiness by being arbiter of who gets what and does what. Individual citizens depend on government for their welfare, cradle to grave. Unhappy citizens are victims. Their unhappiness is someone else’s fault. They blame “the rich,” for hoarding things so there’s not enough to go around. The size of the economic pie is static, they believe, and doesn’t expand. Rather than produce their own wealth, they use government to redistribute it.

Such victimhood dogma drove Alinsky strategy. His advice for “Community Organizers” like Barack Obama was: "Rub raw the sores of discontent.” No wonder Obama befriended race-baiting Jeremiah Wright. Rubbing raw the sores of discontent is Reverend Wright’s stock in trade, just as it is with those other two black “leaders,” the Reverends Jackson and Sharpton.

Alinsky was an atheist, but he understood the power of religion and used it perversely. Though he dropped it in subsequent editions to avoid alienating liberal church leaders, he dedicated his first edition of “Rules For Radicals” thusly:

"Lest we forget at least an over-the-shoulder acknowledgment to the very first radical: from all our legends, mythology, and history (and who is to know where mythology leaves off and history begins -- or which is which), the first radical known to man who rebelled against the establishment and did it so effectively that he at least won his own kingdom -- Lucifer."

Hillary didn’t mention this in her senior thesis on Alinsky at Wellesley College either, but it’s worth pondering.