A case of baskets

Hello hello dear basket case, hey my head's damaged too
When I was young I had such fun just listening to you
I'd close my door ten times in threes
and kiss your nose goodnight
and when I woke and you were there
my day was warm and bright

Hello hello dear basket case, you dreamed a dream I followed
I ran with you in fields of sun, through laughing children having fun
I walked the moon and reached it too
so many times because of you
Oh dearest basket case you helped me through and through

Hello hello dear basket case, I see you fade like sunshine
you're like a daytrip to a park, a pocket full of chocolate money
a pot of gold a pot of honey
the lighted lamp inside the dark

I'll dream you up oh basket case and when I'm blue you'll sing
and when it's Winter in my life, you'll turn it into Spring
Oh dear sweet tortured basket case
I bid you kissed goodbye
Goodnight, farewell, for you adieu I'll always wonder why

You had a little glitter crazy
a smidgen madness faerie dust
a take on life through glasses hazey
I guess that means I got you hey? In fact I think it must x

LOVE Carla xxx

You've got the key Carla Rose, boop boop be doo

My key for my car is failing, it's refusing to turn left and right's the locking direction so I'm effectively on my way to nowhere. There is a routine that seems to be dysfunctionally workable:

Try to turn key left a number of times
Almost break key in lock
Go to back door and unlock but am unable to clamber in thusly as too much crap in car
Try to lock door, key won't come out
Have miniature battle with key involving grimace and mild expletives
Get key out (thank the powers that be)
Go to passenger door and open as the right turn here is an open mechanism
Repeat
Sigh, my life is making me laugh and when my looks fade I'll not be the mildly attractive blonde bird with a liking for fashion and animals who gets herself into silly situations, no no, I'll be the old dear with a long white plait who people find endearing because she's slightly mad from the series of poor decision making and life's beautiful oddities :)) She's the woman who people go and see for harp lessons when she can't actually play and she just sits in her nightgown with her hair out strumming. She's baking and icing biscuits with smiley faces on them...her treehouse is pink and inside there's wicker everywhere as if baskets hold dreams in them like chocolates and jams. I really like her, she's still called Bird :)

Wandering around the car in circles was making me giggle, muttering nothings to myself and having at times an entire conversation with no one there.  Makes me want to create a song and dance number in it's honour...four teddy boys with quiffs and fluoro socks appear and slide over the bonnet one by one followed by spinny skirt wearing beauties with heavy make up and cupcake lipstick, curlered and ready for the "key no work,sliiiide across tome" jig. They're singing at me in the style of Frenchie's song of ridicule "Beauty school dropout"

"Equine school dropout
There'll be no working key for you
Equine School dropout
You lost your horse and failed the zoo...
Well at least you can remember that your legs are working well
'cos it's miles and miles from here to there, the trudging will be hell
Baby get moving (Baby get moving)
you can go catch the bus for sure
Why are you stewing? (Why are you stewing)
You've got the key but can't open the door!" or something like that...

I'd like it if they'd bust out into a rendition of "Grease Lightning!", suddenly I've got bobby socks on and a ribbon in my hair, a cardy draped over my shoulders and some books held close to me, me and that cool guy from school gonna drive to Kissing Point Road (well why else was it called that people from Sydney???) xo

I leave u with an image of a disheveled Saturday worker who put her make-up on in the dark this morning and thinks she might be slightly orange in the daylight climbing into the back of her lil rav 4 scraping her legs on animal cages and falling through into a pile of hand knitted possum pouches. Well the dance number was exhausting! Such is my world xxx
LOVEbird :)

The Birds, the Bees, The Butterflies

I closed my eyes, glass of wine in hand. I've maybe had a little too much and I don't mind.

I'm lying on a bed upside down and there's a boy sitting cross-legged on the floor playing with the ends of my hair. We're talking shit. You know that gorgeous pointless conversation when you're falling inside something. We got Nag Champa in the burner and it's gooood... we got some random track playing in the background, don't ask me what, I'm listening to him talk crap :)

He's wearing this white long sleeved shirt (the crinkled cool type) and some religious beads neither of us believe in but he looks sharp, new jeans and he smells good. Jeans over chunky shoes makes him look like a cartoon from the ankles down. Anime feet...

Not like this when we met. I can't speak to boys dude, I can't speak to HIM. Bouncing words off pub walls hoping some might meet in the middle and make some kind of sense. I directed him to my friend (cos she's like um hot and interesting and I'm um well...me). Ridiculousness inside shyness inside a little touch of crazy. Courage of the Dutch effect, slamming tequila and asking for a cigarette, he smoked too, so we kissed...a lot...and got kicked out of the pub for kissing a lot. Meandering "home" hiding in doorways, him stealing my breath every few steps and me letting him because he was slightly weird and I dug it...

...and he was sitting there, the top of my upside down head touching his right way up browline, hair to eyebrow, and he has my hair in his fingers, turning it over and over fashioning dreds talking to me about his dreams. He's going to be an artist, do graphic design, be successful and smile a lot. I grin because dreams are what make me spin constantly. Dreaming then forging, laying the plans and finally realising, getting, doing,, pinnacle, height...'cept I'll find out in a couple o' years that every moment is actually part of the dream and not the lead up to it x

Criss-cross sunstreams through our doorway shaping a design on our wall and sunkissed snoring creatures lay sublimely around. Newtown cafe mocha sits steaming by the TV (mine, he got it) and etchings on the side of the couch (his, I love them). The microwave beeps and I jump up to retrieve some croissants. I bought butter and strawberry jam because mum and me had special moments over one and the same when I was 11 and confused...now I'm eating the same food and nonethewiser about life. "cept it's a bit blissful right now...

We have a terrible house, a non existent kitchen and an outhouse for a bathroom but honey we have one hell of a Jacaranda tree at the bottom of our long cottage garden, one which should have a swing in it and sheds purple blankets in Autumn. We got fairy lights all around, best hippies on the block and we believe in "faeries" (he says he likes how I spell that). And we LOVE intensely...

We LOVE because life is hard and without the hair spinning and the heart racing and the cross legged longing stares 'twouldn't be as magical....

then how come it is...

I said to you hey I'm sitting with a glass of wine and I may have had a little too much...memories come melting back...and I don't mind...

I dream of love in it's infancy, I had it, 'twas sublime and imperfect and poor but perfect all at the same time x

Cider & Cats, Beverley Kills

I got knocked out by a soay sheep once, they have horns...here's a pic

I fell backwards into the arms of one of the other crazy "bitches" (in 'the hood' sense ladies, don't take it the wrong way) who ran around all day after rather medium to large animals. Sheep, pigs, horses, goats, you name it, we catapulted over fencing and got hurt allll the time :) 'twas a right of passage.
To be one of the four of us was an honour, this was no ordinary job and I LOVED it.
We worked at an animal shelter on the "Field Section".

For me "Field Section" is almost like a famous phrase in my mind. I expect people when I tell them to nod in recognition, "oh the FIELD SECTION, wow...amazing! So you're the girls who did five bar gate flips and restled with llamas? I know you!" chortle chortle, seriously, best job in the whole world.

So I was laying on the floor, a football sized bump on my noggin and my  nearest amigo peers at it, reels back in horror, hand clasped over her mouth and then calmly says "it' not that bad". Oh you jest lady! I could make another head if I had a marker pen!

Hospital was rather laughable, my boss (also my bestie) came with and we were attended to by a bit of a dish if you will. Upon being asked by the dishy doctor what happened I very much enjoyed saying "I got hit in the head by a sheep", he asked three times (obviously, having severe concussion makes one delirious enough to conjure a sheep up), we left with "is the sheep ok?" pahahaha, haven't heard that one before...ringing in my broken head. The sheep was ok.

It's a time in my life I'll never forget. I had three amazing girls to work with and we are all still in touch ten years on. That kind of environment where you're together all day long going through animal welfare triumphs and losses, hugging when it goes well, crying together when there's nothing to be done, well it makes for incomparable bonds. I am a lucky lucky girl to have had that in my life, it really has affected all the rest of what makes me "Carla Bird", one of the amigos even gave me the nickname "Bird" and I use it for everything. Hats off Nikki Bird, Leanne Bird and Sarah Bird x

One such person who I know "gets" this nimal welfare thing is a girl called Juliette (Jules) and she still works in the "Cat Section". I don't know her very well but we used to chat randomly and she's a gorgeous soul with a huge heart. She recently signed up for Twitter and ever so shakily ( a bit Bambi-esque) is tweeting under her band's drumming name. She's the drummer for Beverley Kills, a four piece punk band, all chicks and all "rockin' out" quite nicely thank you! You'll find their album cover artwork in "Polaroids" and their video in "Music Box". I especially like the way they began, two gals drunk on cider talking about their "dream" of starting a punk rock band, then quite quickly graduating to three cider drunk gals putting the ideas down on paper (man I wish I coulda been a fly ont wall in that room, I can imagine raucous cider ramblings and arm wrestling) and then finally just  going ahead and making it happen, well dudes you did it!

If anyone is sitting on their jacks "thinking" about it, what the hell are you waiting for? Take some inspiration from these four and do what makes you punkhappy.

Let's face it, cider has to be the drink of choice if you're gonna be punking out. A good mate of mine used to drink cider and black (blackcurrant cordial), classy Tabby, real classy. There will be a blog about her one day, gothic punky  17 year old I used to watch "The Crow" with on loop :-) ...another story...


Miss J, thanks for making me recall a magical time in my life. You're a dedicated lady both inside animal welfare and musically and I know you girls have got quite a following over there in Cambridge. I tip my cap and raise my double chocolate stout to you:

Jules, Georgie, Elisa and Kate who together make up BEVERLEY KILLS, and of course...CIDER AND CATS x

"Need you all the time" - Beverley Kills

LOVEbird xxx 

Love is beautiful even at the end

There was a glass in the sink, it was a shabby kitchen and my dogs were unhappy. There was this unsettled air about this place. We lived right under the flight path and when planes went overhead it knocked the TV signal out and made my windows rattle...

He was out again....up the pub...it was hurting all the time..."Please God make me a bird so I can fly far far far away from here".

It wasn't always like this. We had a fairytale, we lounged on the floor collapsed in heaps kissing til we couldn't breathe, stared at each other like no one else was alive in the world, amazingly I kept breathing when it went away. From a time where we sprinted home from all corners of the beautiful city to be inside each others arms to now....we barely met in the hall.

I left one day. I slashed my finger (my left index) open on the glass in the sink, the unhappy dogs attending to me and otherwise alone in the cold house, I should say coldhouse (like poorhouse, one word). I rang him and he was concerned through his haze of not loving me anymore but he didn't come, then I left because if someone doesn't come when you need stitches it's time to go isn't it...

So I left the coldhouse, took my three doting creatures, they need recognition now hey :) This is them:

I flew directly into the sun and I have this rising feeling in my tummy, it goes up through my chest and rib cage, makes my arms warm, into my neck, turns my ears a cherry colour and reaches my mouth where I can feel a smile happen involuntarily (aren't they the best most  happy smiles?) when I go back and think about the day I flew away.

Then most sensationally and most importantly the creatures were sublimely happy, flight, light and peace.

There's a soundtrack to everyone's lives, we go from A to B listening to track after track, walking through Coles to Carly Rae Jepson or dancing unco to One Direction pumping from a 7/11 at 2am in the city ( I think she may have had too much Vino la').

Many songs get me and I get them, when that happens there's like this chemical explosion in my inner workings, I attach meaning and I shout along to chorus's in my car with my window fully open, blind exhibitionist I really truly am. Painful memories but triumphant outcomes. Wondering why someone isn't hurting in their heart as much as you are. You can lie in a bed 20 miles away but your arm is on their pillow and you can hear their breathing in your dreams.

The first night time of my flight to the calm that is now my world I lay in the dark watching him breathing, his chest moving up and down and I stroked his head when he had yet another nightmare...I talked to him as usual telling him everything was peachy and he was safe and loved....and then I woke up alone with my three creatures snoring at my feet.

My many songs in my life soundtrack are entirely necessary to my happiness and brain balance. I hope nobody ever takes my ears away...

I will be listening to songs in my treehouse between or whilst blogging, I'll dance around the kitchen making chai and honey and hearty vege soup and I'll remember where I came from and what has led me to the stunning place I'm at now - Proud, loved, emotionally aware, sensitive and full of heart. Songs I love bring all of those things in and makes it easy to sway in the sunshine.

There's so much life to gain from going through pain in your heart. If you can bear it you can see the soul attached to that almost breaking feeling.

Because love is beautiful even at the end.

the devil and the Angel, my OCD by Birdly xxx

I read an article prompted by a nice gent on Twitter. Predominantly about depression it briefly sighted sufferance of OCD. I loved the article. For just one second I felt mortified that I hadn't put words to the horror story in MY head.

It's been named "The Secret Illness" because oftentimes people who suffer  with it are ashamed. The version which will be utmost in your mind right now is the physical washing of hands, the turning light switches on and off, the "don't step on a crack" version.

I look at this in three stages:
1. Obsessive thought - My hands are dirty
2. Compulsion  to relieve obsession - Washing of hands a monitored number of times
3. Relief

However, my OCD works like this:
1. Obsessive thought which is so entirely repugnant I cannot go to 2.
2. the Compulsion is out of the question
3. No relief, I have to work through the high level anxiety until it subsides, this can take hours, days or weeks.

Doctors say that serotonin which gives us rationale is low in OCD patients, therefore the irrational suddenly becomes plausible. You KNOW it isn't real but your little devil on the shoulder in your mind is jumping up and down playing trampoline with your poor head. This is entirely exhausting.

I remember the exact moment when I first met the devil. I will not be giving devil a capital letter, he is unworthy, unloved and I like to poke and laugh at him wherever possible. I was sitting at my desk at work and a colleague had brought his children in to say hello. I was chatting and smiling at the kids, laughing at the cute-ness feeling like me, feeling normal, ha "normal", when a fleeting thought passed through my brain and got entirely stuck.

Stuck stuck, huh why is it not passing through?
It's not going anywhere, no it's not real tho, is it? It's not, is it??
Oh God is it??....repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat......
oh god I can't let it go, oh god oh god oh god,
what's happening to me? What's WRONG with me? Please stop , just stop, PLEASE.

I ran outside and leaned over a railing breathing in panicked gasps trying to get some air, gulping and pleading with my own head to stop, stop, I'll do anything if you just go away...but the little devil was just getting started...jumping up and down playing with my head, twanging all the unwelcome chords. Creating darkness so entirely absolute that I very quickly got shrowded in a heavy blanket of nausea which had no conclusion to it. No end in sight. Blind panic in the dark.

You can't run from yourself little Carla, you're a HORRIBLE PERSON. A silent scream from deep inside me as my worst fears were confirmed : You are not worthy of anything ever.

10 years ago this month of May was the most terrifying day of my life and whilst writing right now I still dissolve into frightened tears.

The reason it was so entirely terrifying is because I did not understand it, I had not heard of it and emotionally I liken it now to being punched in the face over and over. You try and reason with the bully but get nowhere and every time you manage to get on your feet, you get smashed again.

I was admitted to a psyche ward. I was 23. I hadn't slept for days, waves of anxiety causing me to shake intermittently. I sat peering through tired red eyes and unbrushed long blonde hair at the receptionist. A totally unwilling patient more frightened of herself than the unfamilar surroundings.  An Angel (capital letter) sat by my side and didn't waver, my fiance at the time. I kept telling him to leave me there as he should find someone more worthy of his pureness of heart, I wasn't the 'good one' we both thought, I had discovered the real me and she wasn't good. He never listened once.

They gave me anti-psychotics then, moreso to give me a rest from my own head. I was an in-patient for 3 weeks and in that time I began to learn about my illness, the more I learned, the more I understood and the more I understood the less I panicked. I have a beautiful story about the first time I went back out into the "real world". My brother flew into Sydney from Melbourne so he could cuddle his "ickle sis" and reassure my mum and dad and my other brother in the UK that I was fighting the good fight. He walked into my room and I absolutely broke my heart because he immediately triggered my OCD and it was like someone stuck a knife in my stomach. The pain of a loved one having that effect on you is excruciating. I learnt that day to LET IT BE, you have to let it wash over you because trying to control or stop it will take you to a whole other level of panic. "Let it be", the Beatles song helps too :)

Well my beautiful story takes place in a restaurant not far from the hospital. Me and my brother and fiance went for dinner. As I was tea total I was ordered an apple and mint juice, absolutely delicious and still my R & R drink of choice. We ordered food and my brother declared we should celebrate the fact that I wasn't completely mad, just slightly. He ordered a pitcher of water and three glasses and there at the long table, with our noodles, juice and beer for the boys, we three, directed by my gorgeous brother, did celebratory "water shots", I laughed my lil arse off for the first time in weeks :-D. I want to thank you Simon for giving me a memory which serves me well whenever I go through bad spells. You will never fully comprehend how much I love and look up to you. I think I only began true recovery after that meal.
Whilst hospitalised briefly and on meds also briefly, I think the understanding of this "anxiety disorder" is key to living with it. I say living with it as I have it every single day but am able to let the thoughts be there without having a panic attack ( I am medication free). The way I do this is to depict these thoughts as a small gremlin (devil) sitting on my shoulder trying to trick me and i sometimes even tell him to Fuck off. Hey if it helps, do it.
I also remember that all of these thoughts which I find so abhorent are abhorent to me because I am GOOD, I'm a fabulous person, I LOVE LAUGH, LIVE every day and I will not apologise to anyone for who I am. Slowly does it, if you have the "secret illness" you may not believe this now but you will x

For the Joe Bloggs on the street reading this and asking what I'm on about, what thoughts? Why isn't she explaining? I won't be typing up the thought topics, they are dark and disturbing and no one needs them in their heads. They are simply a product of low serotonin and lack of self confidence and in my case have been there since childhood,( I believe I was 3 when I first showed symptoms but the shit didn't hit the fan until 20 years later). However, to give you an idea, think of the worst thing you can think of yourself...then make it seem plausible and start believing it.

So to help all those who suffer silently,those who walk calmly out of offices to gasp and panic alone in the ladies loo, sit on buses wanting to scream but remain composed until home, then dissolve onto the kitchen floor in tears, those who don't go to work for fear of triggering symptoms and those who cannot read, watch TV or listen to the lyrics of a song in case their devil grasps a word and won't let it go. Vice like grip innit...

-If you have not sought medical advice please do so
- Don't run from your own head, it's attached to your neck and therefore always with you
- Don't believe the devil, he's fucking with you
- Go jogging, swimming, cycling, exercise is the best medicine and if you don't "feel like it", suck it up and go anyway
- You are what you eat - I know it is a cliche but this is true. If you eat greasy foods, you will feel yuck and that will directly transfer to your self-esteem and give the devil strength he doesn't deserve
-SEPARATE YOURSELF FROM THE DEVIL, HE IS NOT YOU!
- Read your symptoms in PRINT, get an OCD book, seeing it there on paper is such a relief! You are most certainly not nasty, you are good which is why you feel so ill.
- Maintain your moral code. Don't dissuade from it if you can because your ethics will keep the OCD in check. if you believe you are a forthright person your OCD has nothing to work with
- Alcohol is a depressant, yes Carla we know! Well just sayin...use yer noodle...if you feel less than ordinary you probably need to be stayin' away from the bar...x

LOVEbird xxx
p.s. You are IN and ARE the light, the darkness is jus tryin' to get all up in yo' face and steal your MOJO :)

Lilliputian...it's a word :-)

I put my heeled black boots on before anything else this morning because I don't feel wholly awesome and somehow the boots help. It's something about being all feminine and fantastic or sassy. It just does it for us. I have to confess it has worked slightly. The elevation is having an effect both in stature and in mood.

A very old friend, actually I think my 3rd friend in the entire world since I was born, Kelly, ran the London Marathon yesterday and I am in awe of her. She has always been athletic but she has also been motivated and someone I look up to. She just has that drive that gets things done and I have a great admiration for that quality. We have been friends since I was very little, playing with my little ponies and wearing ridiculous 80's clothes (Mum I may never forgive you for the Panda Teddy jumper with outstanding purple bows? Was it bows? and glittery bejeweled eyes but I give you "props" for the puff dresses and floaty skirts, I would still wear them now).

Right I have settled on an outfit, I never thought it would happen, in that sort of bubble of indecision this morning, everything's a "little off". However, this will change as the day goes on. I just have to remember I'm me and all will be well :)

Getting back to Kelly, I remember we used to go to Alton Towers most years.The strongest memory I have is of Kelly is us sitting in the Passat my Dad owned on the way back from a day of rollercoasters and sweets getting completely stuck on the word "Mississippi" (had to spell check that), and she kept pronouncing it "Missis Zippy" much to the hilarity of her little blonde theme park comrade. We were in convulsions all the way home. 7 and 8 year old girls have a tendency to have contagious giggling fits and I ,not being able to breathe for laughing, would turn red and spluttery and plead for mercy. How often do you do that now?

I think childhood innocence is unparralleled and I have taken a lilliputian amount of that through into adult life. My gosh I had to use "lilliputian"! Although I sound like a complete arse throwing it in how good is that word! Actually I have taken more than a lilliputian (encore for the standing ovation that is that word), I have taken a veritable banquet of childlike behaviours through to adulthood.

There is jumping in puddles where I find it always best if you find a really deep one and then jump as hard as you can, sliding down stair rails getting up enough speed to catapult yourself off the end through the front door and out into the street: "Hello World I'm ready for my day!" and of course there is always good old fashioned supermarket trolley riding which I find is a really handy way to brighten someone's day while they are grocery shopping. If a child does this it's cute and people smile as they walk past. If a grown woman does it the majority of the time you get a good old giggle from other shoppers. It's worth doing.

So today I might do all three. It's raining so I'll have the puddles covered (I have my sassy black boots on after all), my job resides up some stairs with a bannister so that's do-able : "Hello world I'm ready for LUNCH!" and well there's a supermarket round the corner and I need some more dog food. Ready? Set? GO MONDAY!!! Man I feel better already...

Have a good one x

LOVEbird :-D

To live would be an awfully big adventure

I had a gorgeous meal with a friend earlier, she used her new slow cooker and made me some vege delight, not before I had eaten a huge block of brie and half a tub of homous. I am a total foodie who has to fight the urge to buy it in the supermarket but if it's plonked down in front of me  I'l eat everything but the pattern on the plate...

We lounged on the couch afterwards, chatting about what we want to do, she's not sure, just finishing a psychology degree but wants her own cafe and I m loving the world of opportunities laying at her feet :-). Me, I want to be a Journalist (I would Aussily say "Journo" but another friend put me off the slang saying it doesn't befit the art, hence full word). We did this back and forth batting ideas around for a little while and then we got into "feelings", we are pro's at this us ladies...

I have a pre-occupation with young things at the moment. I am slightly dillusional in my thinking that approaching the ripe age of 33 means I am old. Understandably this dillusion leads me to not only have a renewed liking for boy bands but also has led me to thoughts about relationships and differences in age on either side. The friend I am with is dating a younger man and it's all going swimmingly.

The "bad press" (I put this in inverted commas because it's hearsay from friends and colleagues not actual press if you will), well the bad press I hear about older women and younger men is that it is doomed to failure. These boys I am led to believe will inevitably evolve and become different people whilst being inside a relationship with you and then leave you broken hearted and alone. I am afraid to some extent I can see how this could happen.

However, being the dreamer I am and also the forever optimist, I would like to wholeheartedly support my friend as she sits there on her couch looking dreamy while she talks about her and her boy, getting engaged, getting a house, a dog and having children. "He wants a Bengal cat", yes of course he does I nod at her and grin.

I love LOVE! It's almost more fun for me to watch her go through this agonisingly beautiful emotion, almost in pain she loves him so much than it is for me to experience it myself. I say almost, I want it too. The magic in her eyes and the way she describes him wanting her and no one else, "he even likes all the un-sexy things about me", my gosh it's almost too delicious a feeling when you're inside it! I adore it, covet it and when I have it I'll keep it thanks x I'm grinning on her behalf and singing "La Vie en Rose" in my head along to this pitter patter that is young hearts colliding.

I am sitting there starting to recall scenes from movies I love and Casper's "can I keep you?" I find almost too beautiful to pass over.
"Kat?"
(sleepily) "yeah?"
(whisper) "Can I keep you?"
(almost dreaming) "mhhmm"...and then he ghost kisses her...my heart melted...

I think they will work just fine and dandy, I am the one that dreamt the ending to Peter Pan before "Hook" derived. With Peter and Wendy setting up home in a treehouse together and looking after the lost boys until the end of time, Tinkerbell just had to get over it. I am destined to live in treehouses for the rest of my life (I'm on my second) so here's hoping my Pan will show up and match me up and "keep" me forever.

In years to come when they are inviting me over to their daughter's wedding I want to be the one that believed it was magical and possible. I don't want to be the cynic, it just doesn't work in my brain.

"You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming? That's where I'll always love you, Peter Pan. That's where I'll be waiting"

So when's the last time you were good and kissed?

Ok when's the last time you were GOOD AND KISSED, you know like when your toes curl up and your head starts spinning and you wander off into a door afterwards slightly drunk?

It's a quote from a movie. No one seems to know the film when I tell them about it but it's "That Thing you Do", a movie which Tom Hanks put together. It has an actor in it called Tom Everett Scott ( oh be still my beating heart). He says the line and then plants a good smacker onto Liv Tyler :-)

Tom Hanks originally thought the other Tom resembled him too much to play the role but he cast him after his wife urged him to. But I digress.

What's a good kiss? The last time I was kissed really well wasn't actually that long ago so I am pretty lucky. It didn't start out that way however, my first kisses were almost like having a vacuum pack stuck to your face or having your face thoroughly washed. Over the years I have had the pleasure to teach some boys how to kiss me without leaving a scar on my chin. You think I jest? One guy kissed me so hard his stubble actually ripped a hole in my face.

I am sounding like a slight pop tart here aren't I? Well I assure you, there are no big numbers in the amount of people I have kissed, but all have needed a little guidance and all were very special in their own ways. I am not that kind of girl you see :-)

I was once kissed very passionately at a wedding (not mine although I did get married once, not a story for now). I was swept up and dipped backwards in a rather dramatic and enjoyable embrace and kissed until he nearly dropped me. That was fun! I felt like I was in a movie. There was a photo of that embrace but I feel it has gone down in the historical archive of my life. It remains in my memory however as one of those moments that smell like roses in your head xo

A good kiss I think is soft and slow and gets more urgent and deeper as you cuddle up without of course getting so urgent they forget your face is made of skin. If a guy I really like puts his hand on the sides of my face and then kisses me it makes me float off into a  fluffy cloud. The last time I was good and kissed I did walk into my bathroom door. He did the face thing and made me feel like the only girl in the whole world, that's a bit of an artform so well done you. You know who you are.

Remember the Ross and Rachel "laundry" episode? If someone can disarm you so completely that you knock yourself over, you know it was a good smooch.

Oh would you please excuse me, Tom Everett Scott is scatting at my door (watch the movie, you'll get what I mean )

LOVEbird xxx

The "Milky" way

They are saying today that cocoa supplies may be exhausted by 2020. I don't quite know how to handle this news. It makes me want to run around the local supermarket buying all their cream eggs and Kinder surprises.  I could get a "War stash" together, an Apocalypse supply if you will.

For us girls it is tantamount to the end of days! I don't think people want the wrath of millions of women and so to be realisitc we need to create more cocoa, simple as that. Yeah...simple...

I remember a very good friend a few weeks ago being absolutely dumbfounded that I would take chocolate icecream and purchase pouring cream to tip all over it. You know those big round tubs of luury ice cream you can get? yes and then cream, and then maybe chocolate flakes and bits of walnut? mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. My friend is still mentioning the conversation 6 weeks on but being a boy he just wouldn't understand.

The Ivory Coast which produces 40% of the World's cocoa beans has had bad harvests and it is is as a result of El Nino. Does anyone else not think that if we looked after our planet better we may still have chocolate?

This in turn begs the question : Is the global consumption of chocolate and our reliance on it enough to make us wake up finally or should we just bumble on blind as ever?

I hope it's the latter. The next thing we need to do is sabotage hop harvests, then all the men would start using environmentally friendly products and we would stop pouring bleach down the sink...

Just a thought Australia, World, Planet....just a thought...

The beautiful crazy

Sydney has "crazied it up" today. I woke up early to watch "One Direction" hysteria hit the airwaves, telewaves and all other sources of media. It's looking as if not since the Beatles has this sort of insane screaming teenage nuttiness been evident. I absolutely love it I have to say. I get very much involved in all the hysteria and even wish fleetingly that I was 15 again, tears streaming down my pale face just longing for the boy in the red trousers :-)

I read an article by Mia Freedman who managed to collide with the young whippersnappers at the studios of Channel 9 where Karl S had made me guffaw by picking one of the aforementioned band members up and declaring a "man crush". The guy has me in stitches I have to say and he is the main reason I turn the telly on of a morning.

I have even begun following their progress on Twitter for goodness sake, and found myself guessing what they would have for lunch. It's absolutely preposterous I don't mind admitting. Such is the phenomenon that is fame, whether it be fleeting or everlasting, you can guarantee it will involve you both voluntarily and against your will.

To analyse this different type of fame however, this is the insane kind. The kind where people faint, get hurt, and create absolute mayhem. Such is the intensity of the passion for the object of their desire.Kudos to the boys for mentioning how they would like their fans to stay safe and not step all over each other just to catch a glimpse. The adrenalin is at such a heights, these youngsters are totally overwhelmed by it. I can only imagine what being the object of this desire is like. It would be much safer to be the object I think than to be the one objectifying. Having totally absorbed myself in Michael Jackson for many years I am fully aware of just how obsessed you can become with a celebrity. It's a shame in some ways that I have grown up, the pain was real but it was worth suffering for the feeling I got when running around Wembley stadium in efforts to watch the legend himself perform on his "History" tour.

Of course my adrenalin levels hit such dizzying heights during this concert that I have absolutely no recollection of it. I remember prior and I remember the ride home but I think I took myself to a faraway MJ land in the time between. It's an absolutely bizarre fact. Escapism is magical. The comedown was a bit bumpy however.

In any event it's safe to say in most cases this is harmless fun and when you're that young you can attach huge meaning to these people. I know Hannah, the girl who was pulled from the audience this morning will remember that moment fondly for the rest of her life and if nothing else, no matter where these boys end up, they will never forget being admired at this level. It's a level of "Crazy" reserved for untainted, pure and young idealism and I think it's beautiful.

Watering pavements

You know it's going to be a good day when the first door handle you turn comes off in your hand.

It's 7am on a Sunday and I'm sitting on a milk crate out the front of a 7/11 being the obstruction which causes the automatic doors to periodically open and close :) I'm sure I look quite fancy but the milk crate is keeping my ego in check.

Sydney was quiet 15 mins ago but it's now kicking into gear and I have had to retreat into the shop to avoid being blasted by a road sweeper with a young man and power hose trailing behind. It looks like so much fun watering pavements.

I've been reasonably clumsy already today and have only been awake for 3 hours. Balancing coffees and paperwork and dropping things in the street. When I bought my gorgeous coffee (man she was a good barista) I managed to drop all my loose change on the ground. She smiled sweetly and we had a "moment", both good natured sleepyheads :). A friendly happy female barista working on a Sunday, elusive yet endearing creatures.

A friend has just text to say theres an albatross in his sink, I might have to make a dash across town to assist. This is what happens when most of your mates work in conservation ;) Sleepy Sunday morning imagination is boundless and makes me giggle. He's heading in to help me balance more coffee cups.

I just got locked in a mail room, not an entirely unpleasant experience but would have been a little inconvenient considering I'm working. For anyone who remembers the Crystal Maze it felt like I was on a challenge and half expected a team mate to open a small peaky hole in the door yelling encouragement for me to find my way out. I had visions of being there all day amongst the letters but managed to find the right door, the um one I entered through xo

Ok three men have just walked past me with a shopping trolley full of stationery, the third pushing an office wheelie chair. Too blatant to be an office works robbery surely...

Have a fabulous Sunday folks :-D

Poodlemania

There happen to be some Knights in my life. Those who make life bearable when you're not sure how much more you can take. I am very fortunate to have a selection of Knights both male and female and I believe that without them telling me I will be ok I may well not have been. They come in all shapes and sizes and from different areas of the planet. I have those who are very faraway but give me advice like "pull yer knickers up, have a shot of brandy and get on with it, no one's gonna do it for you gal" and those who are able to hug me and say "it's ok to feel utterly exhausted but you are you and you will be ok".

This is the magic I cannot ever take for granted. I like to think I provide the same support to them but I think they sparkle in the light and for this I am truly grateful that I met them.

So I have a lump in my throat. I am told it's an enlarged tonsil. I have had it now for over a week so I visited the doctor who promptly and slightly disinterestedly (It wasn't covered in infection and I wasn't passing out, maybe I should have said I had chest pains) told me there is nothing they can do and it could take up to 6 weeks to subside, deflate, get smaller. Amazingly I didn't ask what caused this, I was so enthusiastic to leave after a $60 consultation which told me nothing I almost ran out of the building. This is my practical side of course, the sensible part that is missing from my brain. I am not too worried about all this except for the fact that today I am finding it slightly difficult to swallow but I feel it's over-rated to be able to eat comfortably anyway or at all in fact. I long for the days when I simply need an injection once a month to stock me up for 28 days of nutrition. I jest of course. I may seek a second opinion but am loathe to pay another $60 for the same diagnosis as this bored GP delivered. I believe red wine is the answer, I think it deserves a mention at least once a blog :-)

My Alien cat is back at the vet and the $60 for the lumpy throat "diagnosis encore" has been allocated to him this week. He is not healing and therefore must have a second operation to re-stitch him. Of course along with this comes countless episodes of CAT-er-whaling, mad dashes around the house chasing shadows, paws on faces, ankle biting and scratching on furniture I don't own. When my Vinny alien is in a bad mood (caused by hunger or denial of exit) he saunters up to me seductively, rubs himself on my legs giving me an extreme false sense of security and then bites me very hard to show his absolute disgust and insistence that the situation be corrected. If I get up and walk around my flat when he is in one of these moods he launches after me attacking my legs. I can't help but laugh. I do believe my friend is right when he says Vinny IS going to take over the World and Black Poodles WILL make it into the equation. He has a spaceship somewhere and he's not afraid to use it. One day it will show up and collect him and that will be the last day of Earth as we know it.  The only safe ones will be Poodles, himself and Phoebe dog AKA Madame Phoeboir Hoover. I do believe they are in some kind of relationship, they brazenly and shamelessly fall asleep together constantly.

Ironically I don't think I will be safe at the end of days (Poodlemania). Vinny obviously wants me alive as I take such good care of him but the Alien brethren probably won't permit it. Until it happens I can rely on the same friend to text me randomly telling me he has met a black poodle on the pavement and he doesn't know what to do. I generally tell him to "RUN!!!". Be afraid, be very afraid...

The little engine that could

My car broke down on Saturday after a very hard day working my little butt off to earn a crust. It was 10pm and my Knight in shining tracky pants (shining?) was sitting next to me in said vehicle chuckling to himself. Thanks mate :-).  Got home at midnight stopping ont way to purchase Hazelnut Choc and Pizza shapes (the wine was already back at the house). Strange experience, a young girl looking at me through a gap in a small window using sign language to tell me "NO, WE HAVE NOOOO PRINGLES".."SORRRY, DO YOU HAVE NONE?", "NO, NO PRINGLES" "AH THEN PIZZA SHAPES?" "YES YES"  then she promptly went off like a food valet and got me my junk. Debiting my account through a little trench like metal ski slope counter thingy and snatching the little machine back before I had a chance to grab her hand and pull her through the bullet proof window... is Mona Vale really that dangerous at 11pm on a Saturday? I imagine all the frivolity and trouble would be INSIDE until about midnight when it pours out on to the street.

So my wages went to the burly NRMA guy who was very business-like and to the point. He should have had "No messing" tattoo'd on his forehead. 7 feet tall and built like a very sturdy building, he made me feel strangely and very hastily "saved" :-) Saved from myself was the way he approached me, I think he expected my high beams, radio and air con to be on and exclaim "and you thought your lil battery would be ok with that?". However, they were not and I am still baffled as to why there was a distinct lack of power for the little engine that could is purring along happily 4 days later.

Getting home was a little bit of a haze. My friend I am certain was enchanted by my very loud sing song to Kelly Clarkson (it was on the radio, calm down) with the windows down to maintain a wakeful state. The three creatures went mildly insane when we got in bounding and tap dancing around the kitchen. We still maintain Phoebe should have tap shoes on as she'd make an absolute killing down at Circular Quay and really isn't it time they "gave back" to their mum for all the vet bills, food, denta-bones and endless walking :-)

We sat down and demolished the wine, shapes and chocolate, then I tiptoed off to my bed and collapsed in a heap of creatures (they go where I go).

There is more I hear you say? Absolutely, this a splendid tale of upheaval, exhaustion, frustration and indulgence. I woke up at 6.30am with a meowing Siamese very close to my face. My Alien cat has a very strong pair of lungs with an ability to maintain meows for many hours with no interval. I fed him to shut him up (an act which is becoming increasingly disturbing as he gets more rotund). The other two creatures, excited at a brand new day naturally wished to visit the courtyard so they were granted exit. Bleary eyed and shell-shocked from the events the day before, I didn't notice the Alien slip past me and out. Now if you've read previous posts, you will know that he has stitches. He is not permitted exit at present, code red, stumbling around ,dollar signs flashing before my eyes, I ran after him around the courtyard in my smalls, managed to grab him and turned around just in time to watch my front door slam shut...the Alien cat has now cost me a fortune, made me work harder and locked me out of my flat in my underwear at 7am. Vinny cat, oh how I love thee.

No windows were open, this is because I am a girl who lives alone and needs some security ( I say alone, I'm never REALLY alone in my house).I began rapping (gently tapping, love that poem) on the door, windows, grappling with a wriggling, very impatient moggy, circling the entire building and wondering if one of my neighbours may catch me and make my day even more interesting and diverse. At this point my friend who had stayed after the junk food and wine emerged from the spare room and opened my lovely old rustic front door. He immediately congratulated me on yet another moment of mayhem....grinning but cursing lightly under my breath I wandered off back to bed...

Next week I'm taking Vinny back to the vet for the fourth time, they really like him...

Apple Crumble

"No you have to plug in the keyboard" My laptop doesn't work properly, I spilt red wine on it nearly a year and a half ago and so it has all kinds of trouble with ..um...well..functioning.... So you can't use the keyboard but I do have an external one. I used to have an Apple one to match the lil mac donated generously by a nice housemate/landlord but I broke it, I believe possibly with more wine. I don't like wasting wine. Especially crumbling Apple products before my eyes.

Shortly after that incident, having acquired the crappy keyboard I managed to drop my iPhone 3 in the toilet. Frantically trying to switch it on whilst still moist I'm told is what REALLY broke it. Not being totally submerged in water. Moist is an uncomfortable word isn't it? Apt for this situation I feel. Next time I'll do the unlikely thing and put it in a box of rice for 24 hours or maybe put banana peel and orange peel in the box with it and seal it (no hang on, that's tea).

So watching "Amelie" on my laptop t'other night with a friend proved a source of frustration and now in reflection a great source of hilarity for me :-) My boss from my second job bought me an iTunes voucher for Christmas. Terribly nice of them and so I bought Amelie.

I plugged the laptop in. Oh did I not mention that you have to plug it in because otherwise it doesn't work. The battery is out of battery. Then I tried to start the movie. Failure to launch spectacularly stating that there was an iTunes fatal error. Luckily I had an IT savvy youngster with me who proclaimed "You have Quicktime" you can play it on that, just right click on the file"...Um you can't right click on my Mac because the little finger swipey pad thingey doesn't work.............errrrrm...........

I stared at it for a few minutes (it's the same stare as when you get home with a kit from IKEA to assemble a piece of furniture) .Ah! Eureka! Go to file and click on it and "Play with"...we have lift off! I'm a bit tired and so are you but we wanted to watch it so here we go...

I love my dogs so very much but my collie does have explosions of minor panic and does occasionally run through my room to find his "safe corner" to my right. A beautiful yet very neurotic dog whom I have boundless patience and affection for. So the credits are finally rolling and I settle back into a comfy position to watch this fabulous film and he decides the world is a dangerous and entirely frightening place, goes to his safety corner and pulls the plug out...you remember the 'puter doesn't work like that...blackness. I tell him everything is going to be ok.

Looking at each other with utter sleepy resignation that I have a beautiful Mac which I have managed to completely screw up in almost every way possible and I plugged it back in,waited ten minutes for it to make that hopeful Apple opening sound, saw it wake up, closed Skype (I have inadvertently set Skype up to open on start, I REALLY don't want it to but I don't know how to fix it) and opened up Finder, Library, iTunes, Music, Movies, Amelie phew!

Pressed File, Quicktime, pressed PLAY and promptly fell asleep...

Superhero

I trapped my hand in the car door this morning...
I have a throat infection and I trapped my hand in the car door...
One of my best friend's is going to live in Mexico for six months, I have a throat infection and I trapped my hand in the car door.....
My gorgeous friend is going to study Marine Biology and save the World, my throat feels slightly better than yesterday and my fingers aren't broken :-)

To a Superhero who will put an end to the end of days (as we know them)

Identify a perfect sky
You wrap me up and say goodbye
I hold you tight, the sun appears
As if your smile is what steers it

I'll be thinking of your heart
Your gentle soul and careful art
of making things simple and perfect
as I'm alone I will reflect

On times with you around my world
how our paths crossed and fate unfurled
and you with all your magic live
have depth of mind and much to give

My friend be safe and beam
at least one time every day
You're in my heart
and that's where you'll forever stay




It's hard letting people go but when someone comes in they may be there momentarily or for a lifetime. I feel very lucky and hey, I can always Skype to tell people my hand hurts, my throat's sore and to get an update on the progress of the Universe :-)

Gherkins arent carnivorous

So I'm sitting in the rather large park on Elizabeth st, the name of which ludicrously escapes me, I want to say Hyde? It keeps bringing me back to Londinion however so I doubt my own memory. Anyway(s) I'm leaning against a tree listening to Ed sheeran thinking about the last two days. I just tried to write there's and it turned into Gherkin somehow. Turning "there's an ibis" into "gherkins an ibis", immediately I am writing a story in my head about an ibis called gherkin.
Now earlier today I was with a mate who was chastised in school for calling coniferous forests "carnivorous forests" . Guffaw? Did I! So set the scene, in a volatile carnivorous forest where everything's on the menu, wanders a young ibis called gherkin. A stumble making obstacle lies in his way. What's this? A recipe book for 'one pot' vegetarian meals? Gosh where on this crazy lil planet did this materialize from? Obviously someone's mum sent it with nothing but good intentions. My mum sent me a recipe book.

I burst into tears when I opened it, well girls love their mums :) and mine is particularly cuddly and kind so I cried. However, the realization that my mum had sent me a "spinster special" dawned and I giggled all the way home x Mum! You are awesome and I love you!!

I digress and who really knows what from or where I was anyway? I certainly don't know :)

Ah yes gherkin the ibis. There's another part to this. Earlier I proclaimed that I ride bicycle helmets. You see where I went wrong. However let's slot this into the carnivorous forest with gherkin. He's riding a bicycle helmet ( they kind of glide around) and he's got a "spinster special in his..... wing?" UNDER his wing, tucked under his wing :) . He has to deliver the book to the girl on the hill with the three creatures before she starves to death! Crikey, this is how fables begin ;) hehehe

Happy happy Sunday xo

My Teeth Hurt

My teeth hurt...but it can wait. My three creatures need dentals and hip ops and any number of stitches as my triangular faced Alien-esque Cat keeps getting into scrape after scrape and I hold on clucking like a mother hen.

My life is a comedy of my own creation. I find feigning amnesia an excellent coping strategy. I found a great red wine which from Dan Murphy's is just $7! Ridiculed mildly by a good friend, it actually wasn't a split second decision. I researched the Vineyard prior to purchase so I know it isn't cask quality. This wine is a good way of obtaining a little amnesiacal ( not a word but am going with it) state. If I won lotto I'd still buy it.

I dare n't "do" the lotto however, in case my previously prospective life partner gets half of it. Wouldn't that be just peachy: "Well yes you have helped to put me in a near impossible financial situation which I now find myself able to get out of but instead of doing that entirely I give you $10,000 of my $20,000 winnings to do with as you will with my blessings (BIG SMILE)"

So my teeth will wait, meanwhile I'll drink wine with too much sugar in it and eat dark chocolate orange until they fall out, problem solved...

My Alien-esque creature cat has spent the last 4 months testing my abilities of financial structuring. He is and will remain until the day he passes this mortal coil, a confrontational arse. He seeks out other people's lovely relaxed pet moggies and turns them into shrieking, hissing, clawing, damaging banshees. He attempts to bully them and comes home with rather grotesque war wounds which I then have to get sewn up by professionals who cost the Earth. This has turned into a rather ludicrous cycle. The thing is, I made the decision to adopt him and I will honour that. Abandoned by his owners at the vet with both back legs broken from a collision with a car, he had nowhere to belong.

The truth is he does belong with me, no one else would put up with him.

"Near blind aggressive Siamese who wakes you at 5am with a tapping paw on your face (claws in) and a liking for jumping onto objects he knows he shouldn't to seek attention creating high noise levels and breaking sentimental ornaments. An appetite which is so out of control he is beginning to get a belly and a voice that challenges the dulcet tones of the Sulphur Crested Cockatoos outside my bedroom window."

A very close friend of mine believes he and all Black poodles are in cahoots and they are destined to take over the world. I think this may well be true. I'm keeping one eye on him and another eye on my iPhone. No opposable thumbs is certainly no reason not to be nervous.

Sydney Bubbles

I was working last night. I stood on Kent St in this city I have fallen in love with watching people come and go. I stand outside and imagine I am going to be privy to a UFO sighting or a celebrity will suddenly appear and ask me out to dinner. Better still that maybe some movie star of old will re-appear just for me and dance me around a lamp post. I did see an archway leading to a private building which had "since I left you" on it in wrought iron...I have since found that it's a modern bar but in that moment I was transported to another place in a bubble where I have left my husband and this is where I was meant to live now....

A guy turned the corner with his whole life in and surrounding a shopping trolley. I see him every Sunday now. On the path to wherever he sleeps. It was a fleeting moment. I haven't really thought about it since. I did see him the week before on Mardi Gras night sitting and staring and I wondered what his life is like.

This blog isn't really about that actually. I just thought it was worth mentioning.

So a friend of mine was encouraging me to make an attempt at communicating my comedy of a life by blogging about it. It seems I do humour much more effectively than I do solemn or somber :-) So here goes nowt people!

Am off to do some funny writing...