Thursday, 28 March 2013

Shoot to Kill

Today was a long one.

I spent my morning working, mostly data entry and a little bit of admin stuff.

At lunch time I dropped in at my babies school to observe the ritual Easter Hat Parade.
Lillian was confident and happy, JD ended up in tears because he didn't win the raffle, and we spent a little bit of time talking about how not everyone can win and that the Easter Bunny will have a special surprise just for him on Sunday.

After a quick stop for a Chai and some fuel, I was on the road.
My life packed up in a back pack for a blissful 5 day break in the 'Ville, including 2 days of Bluesfest.
The drive is always a good time to think, play music and sing loudly with out being shoosh'd.

My afternoon mission was a delightful one.
A photo shoot with the absolutely stunning Shan-nay-nay.
She is truly one of the most beautiful women I know and I think the images we captured reflect that.
We laughed, we carried crazy props through long grass, we lost glasses off the roof of the car, we climbed through piles or sticks, we did crazy u-turns and basically had a blast.

This is how it looked in the end.

Monday, 25 March 2013

Steal some covers, share some skin.

What does Sunday morning look like?

Some Sundays for me look like noise and yelling and bouncing and requests for cartoons and cereal and toast. These are Mum-Sundays. I can usually wrangle cuddles and kisses before dragging myself into the world to function as a parent. Most Sundays with my little people are spent in parks or by waterholes making and having adventures with our notebooks, pencils and cameras.

Other Sundays I wake late and alone, in indulgent solitude. These are the Sundays that are mine.
They usually involve cleaning and buying groceries and all the boring "grown-up" tasks that life throws my way * sadface *

Then there are your Sundays. They usually follow late nights at gigs. They are slow and decadent. Submerged in the gentleness of your arms. These Sunday mornings seem to linger on for hours and I don't mind at all. Stealing covers and sharing skin, the most blissful Sundays I know.

Thursday, 21 March 2013

These boys I know make a lot of noise

So, there are these boys I know.

They're musicians.

Mr Keys, Mr Gheee-tar, Mr Bass Face, Mr Brass Boy and Mr Thumper.

They play music, sometimes all together, when this happens, they are called Clocks and Dice.
Sometimes in combinations of together and can be known as The Mo'villians, Swingset, Clock and Die . 

4 of them live together, yep band share house, scary right ? It gets better.

4 of them study music at University together.

Things are going so well for this band that they are playing the Lotus Palace Stage at BLUESFEST!

When I first heard that they were going to live together, play together and study together, I have to admit, I was a little worried.
Having lived in plenty of share house situations before, I could see all the ways that this could fall apart. 
It hasn't. 

These men, have bonded, shared and experienced a great deal in the last 3 months, 
away from there families and partners, they have developed a new family between themselves. 

But it's not the music that is the glue that is holding this all together. 

It is a beautiful, vibrant and brave woman. 

Mrs Bass Face.

This lady has her work cut out for her, living with 4 musicians.
She too is studying and in her spare time makes the most magnificent millinery creations.
She is the glue.

I feel pretty blessed that these people have come into my life, that they are sharing their adventures with me and that I can ride on this musical rollercoaster. 

I am especially honoured that Mrs Bass Face has offered her friendship too me; and while I am the grandma of the group, some days it feels like she is taking me under her wing and not the other way around. 

Mrs Bass Face
she is the glue.

Clocks and Dice

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

In my bed

My bed. 
Possibly my most favourite of all place.
Interestingly I share this space with a lot of people,myself, my babies, my friends and my lover. 

With my babies its a place to; 
tell stories,
play games,

With my friends its a place to; 
chat (sometimes online),
share secrets,
drink wine,
watch movies,
eat ice cream.

With my lover its a place to; 
eat tim tams,
talk deeply,
share dreams, 
speak the truth,
touch hearts,
open eyes,
breathe deeply,
expose emotions,
be intimate,
wake happily.

When I am on my own I;
drink tea,
eat Lindt Chololate,

Things that happen in my bed...... 
and sometimes my bed is not my bed.

Tuesday, 19 March 2013

Writing in Bars with Boys

Pen, paper.
Bar, Band.
Pot of Tea; English Breakfast. 
Words seem to come
He plays my song. 
A smile paints my lips. 
His words eclipse 
those wandering 
in my mind. 
My thoughts
inky smudges
unfinished, unclear.
Avoiding, over-thinking. 
Paralysed by temptation.
Lost in his eyes.
Drowning in my cup of tea.

Monday, 18 March 2013

Beautiful Sights and Beautiful Sounds

Another weekend passes.
Another weekend filled with beauty and joy.
Another weekend of music and laughter.

Friday evening, sitting in a dodgy Ex-Serviceman's Club,
I was overcome with aural indulgence.
With The Idea of North, pleasuring my ears for several hours.
I have to admit I was completely captivated for the entire show.
Now, this may not sound like a surprising Friday night, and it shouldn't have been,
but this is not the type of music I usually enjoy, yet I was glad I talked my way in the door,
or in the words of the gentleman that escorted me:

"I am glad that you made me ask you to come with me, I had a great time"

Saturday after lunch, Miss L, JD and I met up with Shan-nay-nay and did a little horse riding,
before heading off to M'Ville for and overnight get-away.
Our getaway included a little bout of Roller Derby between the
Northern Rivers Roller Derby League and Toowoomba City Rollers,
a brief visit to Whian Whian Falls and some local market shopping.

I just adore spending my weekends in such good company and having such great adventures.

Friday, 8 March 2013

Big Chairs, Blythe and Brownies.

Today basically; can't get better.

Late last eve my wonderful brother and his amazing wife gave birth.
A beautiful new human is now in our lives, his name is Thomas.
I feel so blessed, I have never experienced the joy of being an aunty before.
But so far, it feels just like being a mum, but with out the nappies and sleepless nights:)

This morning we went to visit young Thomas and no one could pry him from Miss L's arms.
he is simply perfect.
Aunty L, Miss L and baby Thomas

This afternoon JD had a Pirate Party to attend.
We dressed him up and dropped him off.
He was very excited to be attending a birthday party for the first time.
First Mate JD

Then Miss L and I took ourselves to the Art Gallery for an afternoon tea date.
Here we were joined by Mr G.
There was tea and milkshakes,
brownies and Blythe dolls,
chasing and chairs,
my idea of a perfect Saturday afternoon.

Miss L, Mr G and afternoon tea.

Thursday, 7 March 2013

The Feminist Tsunami

This morning as I sat at my local International Women’s Day breakfast, I felt a sense of disappointment; I was the youngest person there. Am I truly the only women of my generation in my home town, that wants to stand up and say I demand equality?

I sure hope not….

Then I consulted Facebook…ah Social Media, thank you for proving to me today why I have befriended the people I have.

Are we third wave feminists?

We are a feminist tsunami .

And we are not going away.

A lot of things infuriate me.
But nothing more than violence. Violence of any kind, but in particular violence against women.
Recently my anger about this subject was given a spark.
This spark lit a fire.

Late one night watching TEDx talks on YouTube, I came across a video by one of my favourite authors and activists, Eve Ensler. She was talking about this revolutionary uprising. A movement. One Billion Rising. Eve has been campaigning to stop violence against women for more than 15 years, this year she called us together as women and the men who love and support women, to collectively call an end to the violence, through dance.

“Dance is the fastest, most direct route to the truth” – Gabrielle Roth.

So together, on the 14th of February, we danced.  It was fun, it was invigorating, it was silly, it was wild, it was succulent but most importantly it was empowering and it was collective. I am so grateful to the women and MEN that rose that day, those brave enough to say NO in public.

So as I sit here on the 100th anniversary of  International Womens Day, I don’t have to wonder “Why do we need feminism?” because I know.

I need feminism because:

  • ·         When I am pissed off it does not mean I have my period,
  • ·         I don’t want my daughter to grow up thinking that she has to be a Disney princess, and wait for a prince to save her,
  • ·         Even our male politicians don’t think “women will ever dominate or even approach equal representation in a large number of areas” – Tony Abbott,
  • ·         People still ask what rape victims were wearing,
  • ·         a person’s sexual identity does not make them any less of a woman,
  • ·         genital mutilation still occurs,
  • ·         There is no such things as girls toys and boys toys,
  • ·         I should be the only person who decides what happens with my reproductive organs,
  • ·         Embracing my femininity does not make me weak,
  • ·         Patriarchy is still a thing,
  • ·         Our society teaches “don’t GET raped” instead of “DON’T rape”,
  • ·         Music companies still produce music that degrades women and then markets it at teens,
  • ·         I should feel safe when I walk down the street,
  • ·         Being assertive does not make me a bitch,
  • ·         I am sick of being told I am too pretty to have tattoos,
  • ·         I should not have to constantly re-affirm my intelligence,
  • ·         I will wear make-up if and when I please,
  • ·         I am just as valuable as a man,
  • ·         It shouldn’t be my goal in life to find a nice man and settle down,
  • ·         Because I can only expect for my daughter what I demand for myself.
ISo why do you need Feminism ?

Tuesday, 5 March 2013

Between Dark & Dawn

I am drinking.
Instant coffee.
From someone else's mug.
It's OK , she's in Spain.
Sugar doesn't fix it.
The taste makes me
smack my tongue
on the roof of my mouth.
Physically; I am present.
Mentally; I am absent.
Lost in a world
between the dark and dawn.
Stuck still between
the coolness of the plaster
and the silhouette
of your body.
It doesn't feel awkward.
There is comfort
in sharing the inky night.
And watching you
breathe, mumble and sigh.

Monday, 4 March 2013

The jerk who liked hugs

Abstract: I am basically a jerk that likes to be hugged

Dedication: To the man that made me realise that it is OK to be a jerk and demand hugs from friends on all occasions, because that is who I am. DT.

I wanted to call this post "How to love a person with Bipolar".

I didn't.

Because; we as humans are far too diverse to be categorised as such.
To draw any parallel between myself and the next person that is bipolar would be arrogant.
I am different to you, you are different to the person sitting next to you, and they are different to the person they stood next to in the Café this morning.

It still leaves the question, how do you love a person with bipolar?  I don’t have an answer, what I discovered while writing this was; we all deserve to be loved, despite our flaws and indiscretions.

So this post is about how to love ME and my bipolar in just 5 easy steps.

1) I am a massive jerk and I wish I owned a magic eraser.

I don’t know if this is a bipolar thing or just a Lola specific trait but my compulsivity is at its most indulgent when it comes to my mouth and my emotions.  This brings me undone with the people I love every day.

I figure that most people are born with an in built sensor within their brain, a mechanism that makes red lights flash and says “DON’T SAY THAT” when something ridiculous is about to come out of their mouth. Well I was not born with this mechanism or mine is faulty, either way EVERYTHING I think or feel comes out my mouth, I mean everything.

This is good and bad, on the positive side everyone that I love knows that I love them, I have no fear in sharing how incredibly overwhelmed I am that I have wonderful, beautiful and inspiring people in my life. If you know me, you know this, I will end most conversations with “I love you”. I actually mean it, I love a lot of people, just in different ways and for different reasons.

The bad is, I suck hard at social situations, reading social cues and responding appropriately. I just met you and this is crazy but let me tell you all about this wild thing that happened to me once, even though you are a stranger. It is also problem if I am feeling short tempered, hazy, lost, unsettled, angry, confused. You will know that too. I will be silent, I will yell, I will ignore, I will “snap” for no apparent reason, I may just tell you to go and “shove your decaf skinny latte up your arse”,  (this is clearly why I am not in customer service). I don’t know why this happens, it’s happened to me for as long as I can remember, I know it’s happening and yet I have no control of the words that seem to spit from my mouth.

Its days like these I wish for the magic eraser, where I could rub out what I said and replace it with more kind words. I will admit that this affliction has given me a great capacity to apologise, and seek forgiveness, I just wish it was not so hurtful to the people I love.
If I ask you, can I use my magic eraser, it means I am sorry, that I was taken over by whatever chemicals in my brain turn me into that wired lady who won’t shut her mouth. The best part is the magic eraser is reciprocal; you get to use it too.

2) I am responsible for my illness.

It’s important for me to feel in control, especially of my illness. When I feel in control of it, I feel well. This is not your responsibility, what you do and say should have no deeper impact on me than on a normal person, I never want you to sensor yourself because of my illness, I want you to be you. 

This is my illness, I am responsible for
·         Managing it
·         Medicating it
·         Taking it to therapy
·         Reigning in the highs
·         Picking up the lows.

I don’t want to be saved, I am the hero of this story. I just want you to love me, with all my flaws.

3) I get by with a little help from my friends.

These are people that to date have seen more of my ups and downs than anyone, they know my triggers, my pre-mania indicators, my uh-oh this is depression again signs. They stalk my facebook, my instagram, my youtube links and my pinterest pins, they can read more deeply into a link to Like a Friend by Pulp than the other 322 friends, they know when I buy handbags and shoes that shit is getting real. They bless my life with their love, understanding and compassion, they forgive me when I least deserve it and will always answer the phone at 3am.

In essence, you can’t have me, if I don’t have them.

4) Out of Space.
Sometimes I just need space.  Sometimes it’s physical space, sometimes it’s mental space.                 
My head is often a swirling lake of inner dialogue, I need to escape, get out, shut down. This doesn't always mean I want you to go away, sometimes it just means I want you to shut up. So shut up.

5) Hug Me.
No; really, hug me. Wrap me up in your arms, hold me firmly and just breathe it out with me.  Hugging is proven to reduce respiration, heart rate and release endorphins,  hugging is physiologically good for you, so let’s hug.
Most times a hug can fix anything, the times that it can’t, it makes whatever is broken easier to cope with.
You can hug me when I am sad, angry, annoyed, irritable, raging, happy, joyous, you should just always hugs. If in doubt HUG!

See, I really am just a jerk that likes to be hugged.