Mollie has come home.

Finally, we have Mollie's skull back.When little Mollie died (see blog "Mollie" 17th June, 2008) we chopped off her head and gave it to the mortuary manager at work. He was going to strip the skull for me so I could keep it. After months of asking him about it, having him change the subject and leave me convinced me he had either lost it or run over it with the lawn mower (he put it in his garden so the bugs could get to it), I got a cryptic (pun intended) message from him to meet him in the anatomy cold room. There was the little skull, he had glued it all together and laquered it so it is beautifully preserved. It is gorgeous. I love it, and I love that I can keep a part of her. I need to make the man a cake and buy a bottle of wine. He has earned it. I'm very happy. Read more!

Sunday too far away

Maybe it's the come down from a month of celebrating my birthday. Maybe it's PMT. Regardless of the cause, melancholy surrounds me. I'm battling my second coldsore for the week and my sinuses are clagged. Perhaps my aching shoulder is disturbing my sleep too much. I feel like crawling into bed and sleeping for a week. Unfortunately when you have a small person to attend to such things are impossible. Tomorrow will be consumed with gymnastics and piano lessons. There is a car club display on Sunday that I would like to go to, but since it will be my only chance for a sleep-in then I'm choosing my health over ogling at shiny cars (and showing off mine). It's one of the major drawbacks of parenting - you own life gets put on the back burner. I'd much rather be choosing tiles for the renovation than watching a bunch of little girls in leotards jump around and I would so much rather be lying in bed reading a book than standing in a circle with the other parents singing "doh rea mi blah blah".
I need to do my nails, shave various bits and do my eyebrows. I need to paint my toenails. I need to eat more vegetables and drink more water. I need to floss more often and exercise more.
Instead, I'm having cheese and biscuits and wine for dinner and going to bed to fall asleep watching Star Trek.

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Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?

The film is good. Really very good. Read more!

The start of something beautiful

Fuck! I'm 40! I guess it had to happen eventually. At least I've managed to milk it quite substantially: party with friends in Melbourne, new bike, new clothes, lavish dinner, cake and of course, a tattoo. It is a work in progress and will eventually be about half as big again, and coloured. But three and a half hours under the needle was as much as I could tolerate.
My dear husband designed it and paid for the first installment. The next session isn't until mid April, so plenty of time to heal. And I must say it hurt like hell and the past 48 hours have been very uncomfortable. So all up I'm looking at about 3 months of ongoing pain to see it through. Which brings me to the birthday card that greeted me on the dining table on the morning of the 40th:
I didn't know if I should kiss him or take out a restraining order.
The girl made me an origami whale and a beautiful card that said "Happy Boofta". Cute. The gang from the lab took me out for lunch (I had a very nice potato and salmon fritatta which was nicely seasoned with dill and pepper). And on Friday we are having cake for morning tea. So all in all, I've stretched this boofta over almost three weeks. Noice. I might turn 40 again next year. Read more!

Life is Beautiful

We got just got back from a weekend in Melbourne. It was bags of fun and, strangely enough, nothing went wrong. We arrived in Melbourne at 10:20am and picked up a hire car. We got upgraded to a flash Camry instead of the hatchback rollerskate I had booked - a good start. We met the girl's grandmother at the museum and handed over the precious little creature for a weekend with her Dad. Then we went to the hotel. I had booked a two bedroom apartment (since the delinquent was with us) and it was really cheap, only about $150 per night. I was worried. After the debacle with our hotel in Sydney and considering our luck in general I was expecting the worst. But it was all good, they even gave us a free late checkout for Sunday.
We packed a bag with food (no fruit, it was forbidden), unopened bottles of water and plenty of sunscreen and made our way to the Soundwave Festival. The first thing we saw upon arrival was a young man collapsed in the tram stop covered in vomit. Poor thing, he hadn't even made it in the front gate and it was only 1pm. The other thing I was really worried about was our tickets - they were "print at home" internet delivery and VERY plain. I could have printed them 200 times and handed them out to friends, I was worried some part had got lost in the ether and we would be refused entry. But, no problem. I had read on the forum that umbrellas would not be permitted, so I lamented my inability to carry a parasol and left it at home. I was a bit worried that I wouldn't be allowed in because I was the only one without ink showing, but security didn't seem bothered and were only concerned about confiscating cans of deoderant (??) Once inside we found a good spot in the grandstand and had some lunch. The band playing were Underoath, and they were quite good. The drummer, who appeared to be female, was going off. She made animal from the muppets look like a limp wristed sook. I was impressed. I WAS impressed until the singer started spouting about God and Jesus. Seriously, I'm here to listen to music, not get preached at. FUCK OFF!! We wandered about, listened to music, wandered about a bit more. Poison the Well were very good. That was generally the gist of the whole day.
We were easily the oldest people there, but it was a friendly crowd, and at least we weren't there with our parents (dig at the delinquent, who was very good and not embarrassed by us at all). Unfortunately Lacuna Coil were playing on the only indoor stage and it was hot enough outside, without being in a huge shed with a seething mass of head bangers. I was brave. I was determined. I made my way to the front during the soundcheck and nabbed a great spot. After 10 minutes of "check check" I was ready to collapse. Security came out and sprayed the audience with cold water which revived me enough to convince me I could hack it. Two bars into the first song I turned and ran. Up the back, near the open door, I found some friends and hung out with them for the remainder of the set - the husband having dissapeared in the crowd. Lacuna were great, really very good.
Alice in Chains were good, apparently not suffering without Layne. Nine Inch Nails, not being satisfied with merely causing their audience permanent hearing loss, had decided to blind us as well. The epilepsy warnings on the tickets were justified. The delinquent went off for a mosh with Lamb of God and we hung around outside. At one point Randy called for the audience to "sing along" which amused me no end. How does that song go again? Oh yeah, "roar, scream, roar, roar, scream and wail".
We eventually went back to the hotel, happy.
About a month ago I got a very bad haircut. It was so bad the first thing I did when I got home was look in the yellow pages for wig shops. So I had made an appointment with my old hairdresser in Melbourne, hoping he could fix it. He did. I now have gorgeous gun metal grey and black hair, the man is a genius and I will never be unfaithful again. I will put up a photo soon.
On Saturday night my dear friend had organised a gathering to celebrate my 40th birthday. So about 20 friends joined me in a restaurant/bar type place and we ate and drank and laughed and drank. I snuggled my friends new baby, got a bit sad about my lack of, so drank some more. It was a lovely night.
The next day we met the older son in the city - his wallet had been nicked and he needed his Dad to help him get some more ID. After we sorted that out I took the boys to Max Brenners for a hot chocolate in a vagina shaped cup. The cup was the same but the chocolate wasn't as good. They no longer do the Ecuadorian cocoa with orchid oil, which dissapointed me, but I thought since it was the first bad thing all weekend then I was bloody lucky.
On the way to the airport we stopped at our favourite Goth shop and I bought a new shirt - an oriental style lace and pvc number. The girl's Dad dropped her off on time and she was very excited to see her step father and brother, almost ignoring me. I didn't mind, I love it that she adores her new family. She is really growing up, and turning out to be be a very interesting person. Last week for "news" at school she took a stuffed bat in a shoe box. I was so proud. Life is good. And I have a new bike.
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How can we dance?

So with fires now threatening Warburton and Daylsford the major headline of the day was that Peter Garret is reforming Midnight Oil for a charity concert to raise money for the bushfire victims. I guess we are getting bored with the fires. I mean, they have been burning for over two weeks now, enough already.
It never ceases to amaze me how superficial people are. We all sat glued to our TVs and computers watching updates about the fires; the death toll clicking up almost by the minute. Over two hundred people have been killed and 10 times more homes have been destroyed. We have been bombarded with pictures of wailing women, men with their face in their hands, people in hospital bandaged from foot to head, burnt out cars and dead livestock. I’ll admit I’ve read articles about fire fighters giving koalas drinks, a man who walked away from his burning property leading his horse - beer in the other hand, the 15 year old who drove a tractor through the fires to save his family. I’ve read these stories with tears in my eyes. I’ve donated money, I’ve lamented the tragedy with my co-workers and then I’ve got on with my life. We seem to revel in the drama, but once we’ve had our fill – we move on. Shame those that lost family/property/skin can’t do the same. And tomorrow will be 38°C so the fires still burning will probably flare up. There isn’t going to be much of Victoria left. It does make me grateful that I live in the inner city and am protected from wild fire by thousands of tonnes of cement and bitumen.
So in 38°C heat the husband, the younger stepson and myself will be attending a heavy metal festival. I’m looking forward to seeing Lacuna Coil – I love them. Also the opportunity to see Nine Inch Nails won’t go amiss. I’m half heartedly interested in seeing Alice in Chains but my greater interest will be in the crowd itself. I love crowd watching at these sorts of things. I will post photos next week.

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Penultimate

Apparently today is the second last day of this hellish heatwave. Let's hope the meteorologists are right. It’s almost midnight and it’s still 30˚C. A significant portion of Victoria is on fire: 100 homes have been lost and 14 people have been killed. Meanwhile North Queensland is flooded. Us whiteys should really have thought twice before settling here, we just don’t fit in. Don’t misunderstand me – I love Australia, it’s beautiful, and socially we are better off than most, but the weather!! It’s hell being a Goth when it’s 40˚C! There was a similar heatwave in the early 90’s and I was suffering so much I wore white for a few days (some op shop clothes I hadn’t got around to dying). I haven’t given in this time, although I have spent most evenings and most of today wearing just my underwear - only dressing to leave the house to attend the parent information session at the music school my girl will be attending. It was one of those awful, patronising affairs that made me want to slap somebody. We were asked to introduce ourselves to the person next to us and learn something about them. We then had to tell the class what we had learned. When the teacher was giving us these instructions I almost walked out, that kind of condescending bollocks makes me really angry. I did my best and even managed to smile when the woman I was talking to asked why I didn’t have my daughter with me and said, trying really hard not to sound too cynical, “because it’s a parent information session and we were asked not to bring our kids”. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know that”. “It was in the letter they sent out telling us about today” I managed to sweetly say through clenched teeth. Myself and one other woman were apparently the only ones who did read the letter as all the others had their kids sitting there. Damn I hate it when people can’t follow instructions! (refer to Stupid is as Stupid does, a late 2008 blog) Anyway, I couldn’t decide if it were me or my “partner” who gave the academy award winning performance as she introduced me as “a really nice lady”.
I’m a bit excited to be doing piano with the girl. A year ago I took her to the same music school and we sat in on a lesson. The parents always accompany the child and play along with them. This is apparently so we know what they are doing and can help them during the week. When we got home from observing the lesson I asked the girl if she thought that piano lessons were something she might enjoy. She replied “Oh, I don’t need piano lessons, I can already play!” and proceeded to sit down at the piano, open up the music book (very professional like) then started banging away on the keys. I couldn’t argue with her. But just before Christmas she requested piano lessons. I was really pleased and enrolled her a few weeks ago. I hope she enjoys it. I also hope I get to learn something too; I’d love to be able to play the piano.

So tonight I have watched The Lost Boys 2 (eh), Monster’s Ball (love Billy Bob) and Pretty in Pink (really don’t get Molly Ringwald). I’ve peeled the doona off the child, who was soaked in sweat and probably about to give herself hyperthermia, fed the cat and written a blog. I will now go and have a cold shower and attempt to sleep. Come on autumn, I know you’re out there. Read more!