It's a fun night.

"Hey soul sister, ain't that Mister Mister on the radio, stereo,
the way you move ain't fair, you know!
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do...tonight"
Soul Sister, Train

The discounted entry is still twenty five dollars! It must be fun being a millionaire.

See those expressions now? Happy right? They'll look even happier when they see how much they have to shell out after waiting in line for two hours.
[Yes, we left. Of course]




Cheers!Camera is that way apparently.

Er, we have an arm issue. I don't know why.

I took Genki's ring! Looks awesome on me right? Then I took it back and proposed to him with it and when he said yes I bit him on the hand. [I really have marriages on the brain lately. Wtf.]

Also besides swapping jewellery, we also swapped shoes..
Much love for the girls.

Bathroom shot! Don't I look completely and utterly sober for four in the morning. We call that good lighting.

And karaoke to top off the night. I love the emote.

My lemonade is a liar

My breakfast bottle says 'No artificial colours or flavours'. Sprite is a liar! That's not real lemon in there! Where's the honesty in this relationship? I know it's fake lemon, they know it's fake lemon but they still say it's real! Don't trust the big brand corporations. [Also no-one is buying Sprite cos it's healthy.. Juss sayin']

Nothing is certain.

So I was rolling around in bed last night and I had a mild epiphany:

I think I've shut up shop. With men. with romance. Twu Wuv. I'm not looking to replace what I had before, I don't even know how how to go about replicating something like that and you know I've had a good run. No matter what I've said about it - it was a good run and how many people can say they've had a relationship like that -so I won't push my luck with God/Allah/Og/Tree Nymphs any further and ask for anything more.

And that's that. Shop is shut.

And then I rolled around some more.

And then a traitorous voice in my head says "Ok, you've decided to be alone. And you're okay to be alone... Hell we hear you on the mountain screaming about being an independent woman like an ethnically challenged Beyonce impersonator. But here's the question: Do you like being alone?

Small voice: No. Don't ask me anymore questions.

Well then what are you? a masochist?

No, I am not alone. I have friends!

Traitorous voice says sarcastically: The princess's friends in the fairytales never rescued her.

You are a traitorous voice! and you are created by society to make me believe that I'm deficient because I don't have an 'other'. And the shop is shut! It's decided! So go away!

Traitorous voice: Fine. Don't come looking for me when you're old and mental and talking to wooden spoons and paper plates. If I come back it's only going to be to say I told you so.

I roll over again, independence is one thing, being alone is another. I waver in my certainty.

I look at the clock. Fuck. It's four thirty in the morning. I have been arguing with myself for close to six hours. Apparently I've already gone cuckoo and I haven't lobbed thirty yet. Sixty more years of argumentative insomnia to go.

--

In the morning [three hours later] I don't feel very much more awake but I'm a bit more sure. I chew over it while staring at the computer monitor at work. I don't want to ask any of my friends because I don't want to hear reassuring responses about how Mark Ruffalo is waiting for me at the convenience store. He's not and I don't really believe it. The person to give me an honest response is always my mum.

--
And then I forget sometimes that my choices also affect her to some degree. So when I sat next to her at the dinner table tonight, I mentally palm slapped myself. Of course, she wants me to be in a stable relationship so she can worry less. Forever in her eyes, I'm nine and a half years old. You want to entrust your nine and a half year old to someone responsible in the event that one day God wants you to leave the building.

So I could only phrase it as delicately as I can. "Mum, what if I decide that I want to be alone? Are you ok with that?"

She looked like she was sort of expecting the question. "Well, I want you to do whatever makes you happy"

"Grandkids? Are they a big deal?"

She shakes her head "No, just live your life as best as you can live it."

I can't tell if this conversation is making me relieved or sad.

---

[An hour later]
My aunty looks at my palm and goes "Hey, you've got a really long life!" [Another sixty years to argue with myself? Right on the money.]

"Oh?" I say "How's my love life?"

"Late," She says studying it. "See this? theres no line until the middle. Nothing happens until much later. But you know? No rush." She turns over my hand. "And, see this line? and this one? Two kids. First one is very certain, second one you have to decide the fate of that one."

I turn to my mum, "Your grandkids are still somewhere in my palm."

She smiles.

Eggtart.

Happiness comes in a freshly cooked eggtart. Sugar and comfort and always in good company.

The word bitch.

Definition of the word bitch as defined by UrbanDictionary.com
1. Annoying and whining female.

2. Female Dog

----

"I'm a bitch, I'm a lover
I'm a child, I'm a mother
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed"

-Bitch, Meredith Brooks

----

TG: He drives like a bitch.
Me: I'm sorry.. what do you mean by the word bitch?
TG: A female. Not a female dog.
Me: [Can't think of an appropriate reply to counter this misogyny so I just look up at the sky and pray for patience]

----

Calling someone a bitch is for me, a dealbreaker. Calling me a bitch personally will likely be the end of you, because I will have got in my car and run you over with it. I hate the word. And I hate all of its connotations. Feel it out, there is no male equivalent to the word -the closest thing you can probably get to it is bastard, but calling someone a bastard on the road and calling that person a bitch is the difference which will get you a tire iron in the face from a random stranger.

Calling someone a bitch reduces them to something animalistic, something lower than human. And it's a word which implies female. You're lower than human and female. What could be more degrading to call someone? [Which by the way, my actual dog is not that impressed with the human race either so it goes both ways].

I would personally rather be called a cunt then a bitch. I guess that would mean I'm still a body part of some sort, but hell at least, it's more upfront about the sexism.

I get that some women want to take the word back and by normalising it giving it less power. So we get songs and web zines and hell, even I've noticed that it's entering regular speech. We've entered a culture of normalcy where its ok to call someone a bitch. Heads up, it's not okay. If you make it normal then no-one willl think about what it really means, and then effectively we're closing our eyes and nodding ok to public misogyny. It's not okay.

By the way, do not give me an email of words are just words. I am not inferior by definition of my gender and I will never be ok with you implying so.

Good Vibrations 2010

**Photoshop still uninstalled. Blah.


So last year Good Vibrations was the mother of all shoddy festivals, I didn't know better. Firstly, I was up the front being squashed like a bottlecap under a four wheel drive. The line-up was .. meh to say the least. And I was not prepared for how rainy it was going to be.

This year I was an army general! I brought a parka, waterproof gym pants, two pairs of socks, garbage bags, a waterproof satchel, and I drove so I wouldn't have to deal with mud and drunken numbnuts on public transport. Oh, and also I wasn't stoopid enough to try and stand up the front.


So this year was so so so so so much better.

And also they had two groups that I really wanted to see..

Salt N Pepa [Get up on this! Na na na naaa na na. Push it real good!]

And Gossip [I heard it through the bassline- how much longer will you be mine baby?]

Yay. I love girlpower.



Salt N Pepa didn't disappoint. I love those three ladies. I was a bit concerned that I would be surrounded by eighteen years who think Salt N Pepa is a food flavouring. However not to worry, everyone that I was standing around knew all the lyrics to Shoop, Whatta man, Push it and Let's Talk about Sex! Just like me! Can I get a w00t yeah! There were some sound quality issues but I think it's because we were off to the side.

And then at the end Pepa asked us if we believe in God, which is really the wrong thing to ask an entire park full of high/drunk adolescents. I wonder if she was offended when people started to wander off.


And then.. and then.. the highlight of the festival. Friggin' Beth Ditto. I say friggin because I can't convey my sense of awe. Other than lady, you are awesome. Please invite me out for a drink so we can sit around with pork rinds, coronas and tell each other dirty jokes. Firstly, I loved her sense of humour, and I loved that she talked to the crowd with the same ease of an over the bar conversation.
Secondly, I am wildly awed by her body confidence, I have never seen anything like it. I have never seen anybody so comfortable with themselves. She just didn't care what anyone else thought -what mattered was that she knew she was beautiful. And not just in a superficial sense. At one point, she ripped off her dress, threw it into the crowd and just sang in her spanx.
Thirdly but not leastly, she really has an amazing set of pipes. So Beth, howsa about that drink?

This guy was dancing like a crazy person, and as he was dancing his pants kept slipping lower and lower. If he hadn't moved away I'm sure he would have danced himself nakey. Speaking of nakedness, there was one smashed guy who lost his pants and was just wearing a t-shirt and tightie whiteys, I didn't notice him until Bel poked me 'That guy is not wearing any pants!" and also there was a gigantic wet patch which indicated he wet himself. He was weaving by himself in a circle and he was liking what he was seeing because OMG something was moving under those wet tighty whiteys. I didn't know whether to point hysterically and laugh or vomit on my gumboots. Of course, the smartest thing was to move away before I did both.

I also saw:
-Two girls expose themselves to Naughty by Nature [The MC yelled "titties!"]
-A girl sleeping in a pool of her own vomit
- Another girl fall off her boyfriends shoulders
And enough regurgitated gozleme to turn me off mashed potatos for life.
[Haha, put like that I am too old for this festival]


Well prepared for the rain with my spare garbage bag!
And at the end of the night. Basement Jaxx who were the most underwhelming band of the day, What no 'Where's your head at?' 'Lola's theme', 'Do your thing' or even Hush Boy? Hell, not even an inclusion of 'Raindrops'?. I say Bah. And everybody around me was noticeably underwhelmed.

Anyway, by the end of the night I resembled a drowned cat but I was a drowned cat in a good mood! I don't know if I'll do it again next year .. maybe if Lady Gaga shows. Anyway Happy Chinese New Year everyone!

Melbourne Boys

**My photoshop has been uninstalled so you won't see any of me until it's reinstalled. Until then there's nothing wrong with a moose wearing a hat.

So I kind of went AWOL in the last few weeks, I am/was about to turn twenty seven and I went 'Oh fukkit. This year I don't want to do anything, so take that age twenty seven. Imma just going to pretend you don't exist. Lalala.'

And then Noodles asked me if I wanted to come to Melbourne and I said very calmly "Sure. Why not?" But of course I was frantically dancing around like Austin Powers when I got off the phone.

I get to go home! And drink good coffee! And browse independent bookstores! And people smile there!

And I guess I've been a frigid nancy over the past year [or so people keep telling me] and I decided to take myself out of the nunnery. Cue 'How do you solve a problem like Maria?' As the movie says when you remove yourself from a nunnery, you fall in love with a colonel and end up with six [7?] adorable stepchildren and a singing career. Well why the heck not.


I'm walking down the street at night off to get food, Noodles had disappeared off to a gig and Flinders was looking good for a Belgian waffle or a hot dog. Mm.. street food. When all of a sudden, this guy appears next to me and starts talking to me in a broken english accent.

Before you jump on me for stranger danger, please remember that everyone in Melbourne is this friendly. It's kind of part and parcel.

So whatever we're walking and talking [passing the electronic dictionary between us] and he mentions he's looking for a job. Well what do you do? I'm a model!

Well he definitely looked like a model. He was all dark and chocolate-y and built. Hm.

I'm still keeping an eye out for food when he commands [!] me 'Take me somewhere beautiful'

Oookay. His english was really not that good so I didn't have the heart to say something like 'But isn't this entire place beautiful?' so I thought .. Crown. Why the heck not.

As we're walking, he turns to me and says Why are girls so open here? And I'm open? what open?

Him: With a-sex. [Sorry, I'm putting him in a mario accent]
Me: Oh, what.
Him: You know, everyone is already opened. Why?
Me: Still not understanding.
Him: *pointing to a girl in front of us. She's opened.
Me: OH. Right.
Him: How come all Australian girls are opened? Italian girls are all closed. Have you been opened?
Me: Uhhhhhhhh, yes.

[Fine. He's right. There are no virgins left in this country. Good luck finding one.]

So we're on a bench in front of the water and it's kind of nice? Weird but nice. What the heck, we're just exchanging conversation about God and the meaning of life. And he keeps saying 'Imma so comfortable with you.' which you know what? I've never had that compliment before. So ok.

When he pops out with 'Do you want-a make-a sex with me?'

What is the right response to that by the way, if you can email me that. Well my response was to burst into hysterical giggles. He looks confused. 'Why are you laughing?'
'This is hilarious.'
'I'm a kind guy. I'm very kind.'
'This is too random.'
'What's random?'
I show him the dictionary meaning.
'Oh... but this is-a good random? .. Look, I can have any girl in the club but I'm comfortable with you."
'....No.'
'Is it a decency thing? You are decent.'
'That's not it.'
'Then...' he grabs my palm and traces a pattern in it before brushing the hair out of my eyes 'why not?'

And I'm a deer in the headlights. Why am I turning down sex with an Italian model? Is my head broken? Well some part of me is broken. Maybe my uterus. I can't think of a reason so I just shake my head.

I make excuses to get up and leave and pick up Noodle, he comes with me and just as suddenly as he propositioned me, he comes up with another mind blowing proposal [pardon the pun]

'It breaks my heart to know you live alone.. you know we can make make each others lives better, would you-a marriage me?'

Holy Fuck. What.

He repeats it again 'Would you-a marriage me?'

'No! What!'. My wind is gone and I wonder at the absurdity that someone who has barely known me for two hours can audaciously ask me what my ex-boyfriend of eight years couldn't lift his lips to say [albeit in different accents]

I don't have much time to ponder this but I stand up straight and say the most reasonable thing that pops into my head, 'We have only known each other for two hours.'

'Two hours, two days, two years! When you know, you just know!' And by this time he's doing that frantic Italian gesture thing and people on the street are staring -they think he's yelling at me. I can't decide if this is the craziest thing I've ever heard or the most romantic. Crazy seems more likely.

For two seconds I'm swayed. I'm swayed by fairytales and apparent certainty. But here's the thing: I don't know anything! I will never be certain of anything! I have never been certain of anything in my entire life. I expect the floor to open up and I expect promises to be broken. Frequently things that I think are red are actually blue and vice versa.

No.

He smiles and says 'I will convince you.' I don't think he will.

When I leave he calls 'I love you' to my back. This entire situation is nuts.

***

This post is heaps heaps long and so I don't even want to go into what happened with the next guy. Needless to say, he was nice but the chances of him entering rehab [at the tender age of 21!] are about a 99 in a 100 chance in the next three years. Also I am a lot of things but I am not a cougar [ no matter how much I'm starting to feel like one]

Here is something I've forgotten about men, boys and dating in general. Most of the time, it's absurd and sometimes you'll hit a real pebble in your shoe but more than that it's fun. How I forgot that I don't know. Nerves of anticipation, the high of getting a returned sms, the fun of flirtatiously smiling at each other, daydreams of possibility.

So I guess I'm coming out of the nunnery [well that was some interesting exit], and I'm finally ready! So hooray for that. It's time to have a little fun with the opposite sex.