Thursday, September 27, 2012

Giving sorrow words (Shakespeare told me I could text you)

Darling Tiara Lady,

I can hear you telling me to get over myself and stop being maudlin. To not write about this anniversary, because I can’t change the past. But who am I to argue with Shakespeare?

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak,
Whispers in the overwrought heart and bids it break
                                Macbeth, William Shakespeare

So here I am, giving sorrow words.

Don’t worry, I won’t let you down this evening. Bubbles o’clock will be EPIC today.

A year has passed since you left. At first every day was like walking a tightrope. I was suspended high above a freezing cold, bottomless lake. Trying to function, knowing that the smallest thing could make me look down. Then I’d lose my balance, hurtle down into the depths of that lake. I plunged into that icy pool again and again. It always came unexpectedly, catching me off guard. It knocked the air out of my lungs, made my heart ache. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Could only feel that visceral, tearing pain.

Those plunges are rarer now. More often the funny, priceless memories help keep my head above the icy water. I think about you often. I say hello to your photo on my mantelpiece regularly. I'm pretty sure you're laughing at me (as usual).
I was searching using the term "dive" on Microsoft images.
Look what turned up in the bottom right corner. I shit you not.

(Image from here)

That decision I made, just over a year ago, to not come and see you one last time when I had the chance, was a mistake. It ranks right up there with my biggest fuckups of all time. That decision has weighed me down, pulling on my ankles as I fought to swim to the surface of that lake and take a gulp of precious air.

There are a handful of sensible reasons that stopped me from being there. All of them were utter crap. That guilt will stay with me forever. I wish, with every fibre, that I had come to see you one last time when you offered. I am poorer for not doing that, and I can’t ever forgive myself. I hope you can. I'll be coming to visit you in your garden soon, I promise.

As humans we all crave connection. We connected quickly, fiercely and without expectation. I’ll always be grateful to you. The wonderful gift of the circle of love you created continues.

I hope that wherever you are, it’s bubbly o’clock every hour. I bet you have Luther there keeping you furry company. We all miss you here, and wonder what the Field of Flowers is really like.

I came to grieve, but found comfort here in this garden of memory.
Perhaps our spirits live in perfect peace in the wonder of each
flower and bird and tree.

                                Nan Witcomb

Much love,
Your Happy Sisters Band mate,
Michaela Like Vuvuzela

PS Yes I know I still text you. Shhhhhh. Shakespeare told me I could.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Lose Your Shit Friday #20

Apparently poor Miss Cinders’ family has lost their shit. Well, they’re all poorly. This is no more clear than in her decision to ask me to baby sit Lose Your Shit Friday this week. She must be crazy ill.

So, in the spirit of What the Fuck Wednesday – which was in the spirit of Lose Your Shit Friday – I’m looking after Lose Your Shit Friday. On Saturday.


Australia, you really made me lose my shit this week.

In the spirit of the release of arbitrary bullshit scoring system NAPLAN results this week, let’s take a moment to review how Australia has performed this week.

We sent more traumatised people to a tiny under-resourced island so that other people (who were invited) won’t try to come here in dangerous, ill-equipped, over-crowded boats. And WORSE! We FORGOT TO SEND TONY AND JULIA WITH THEM. Shit. Our bad.

Tony, Julia, here’s a one way ticket to Nauru, a tent and a bucket. See you when you’ve grown a heart between you. (A feckin brain wouldn’t hurt too).

You put off the referendum on indigenous recognition in the constitution. Because apparently the community didn’t see it as a priority. Actually nobody asked us whether we were still interested in being asked about how interested we are in indigenous acknowledgement in the constitution.

I guess the government lost interest.

You guys voted on same-sex marriage. How about we have a referendum on that too (so you can delay it)? Because you seem to think you know what we want. Personally, I don’t know why anyone would WANT to get married. But I think everyone should have the right to.

“Civilisation” won’t crumble if we allow same sex people to marry each other, or if we allow women to wear the burqa, or if taxpayers pay for the funerals for asylum seekers. (Did I cover everything, Mr Bernardi? Hope you’re enjoying the UK. Don’t hurry home, OK?)

Let’s see if I’ve got this one right. In Australia we don’t protest over the murder of innocent children in various civil unrest conflicts around the world.

Instead we shove violent placards into our children’s hands and protest because some shit someone uploaded on YouTube mocked an intellectual construct that's tightly linked to our cultural identity. Hey are there any spots available on that boat to Nauru? I can live in a tent… just not the same one as Tony and Julia. (Just how big IS Nauru?)

The press think the average Aussie is passionate about private school principals and talent show contestants. Yep, those are just the arsehat headlines I look for to remind me of what’s important. Hey look! The principal is a headline for the FOURTH DAY IN A ROW. Good thing nothing of note is happening in Syria, Afghanistan or Africa right now. Phew.

Australia, I’m sending a note home to your mum:



Lose Your Shit Friday: (aka: LYSF) (meaning) A day when lots of people lose their shit. Sometimes it's unavoidable because, well, everything from the week kind of piles up and one has to let it go! I bet you know someone who has lost their shit come Friday, maybe even YOU!

Here's the deal LYSF meme:

  • On any given Friday, let the crap escape your brain from the week via a post on your blog. Swearing, bold, use of CAPS, and even RED BOLD CAPS allow you to express just how shit your day/week has been.
  • Grab the button from below this post, and stick it on your sidebar or in your Lose Your Shit Friday post.
  • Come back here and use MrLinky to link up to your LYSF post - not just a link to your blog homepage.
  • Visit whomever else has linked up that week, and share the "I totally understand why you're losing your shit" comment love!
  • The LYSF meme is open all week from Fridays, so feel free to jump in with your post through the week!
It's that simple! And man does it feel good to let go of all the crap that has occupied your Friday/week!
Lose Your Shit Friday
<a href="" target="_blank"><img src="" alt="Lose Your Shit Friday" width="150" height="150" /></a>

Monday, September 17, 2012

WtFW - What the Fuck Wednesday - No 1

In the spirit of Wordless Wednesday and Thankful Thursday, I’m starting a linky thingummyjig.

OK not in the spirit of those because THOSE linky memes are sweet and nice and wholesome and don’t include swearing.

Let’s try that again.

In the spirit of Lose Your Shit Friday (thank you Miss Cinders for that wonderful chance to rant and generally SWEAR AT EVERYTHING THAT’S SHITTING YOU RIGHT NOW let your hair down), I’m starting a linkfest of epically snazbig proportions.

It’s called What the Fuck Wednesday (WtFW) and it’s your chance to share moments from the week that have made you:

Or generally throw your head back and cry out in a desperate plea to the universe – WHYYY??????
Here’s my first What the Fuck Wednesday post.*

What the fuck was I thinking?
This week I may or may not have risen from my bed without first inserting my brain. Yes, I am the winningest at putting half a face full of blusher on before I realised. I thought I was putting on mineral foundation. Further proof that I’m not a beauty blogger, and that I shouldn’t be allowed out. Of bed.

What the fuck were they thinking?

 Hedge trimming; you’re doing it wrong.

What the fuck colour was I supposed to wear this week?
This week saw several extremely worthy causes request our participation in a variety of colour-themed clothing days. Actually that should be day, because three happened at once.

There was white for survivors of child abuse, purple for LGBT youth and green for bilbies. All these causes are meaningful to me (I love those long-nosed furry little fuckers**) but if I wear all these at once I'm going to end up wearing the colour "vomit".

I can't see any cause wanting to claim that one.
Cause organisers: please check what else is happening on your colour day, or choose something else.

Like "wear blusher as foundation" day to support adults with ADD. (Cough). Problem solved.

What the fuck is he holding?
This photo appeared on my screen a couple of weeks ago. I have a small screen, and the photo is clearly designed for a larger screen. I think it's an ad for furniture. Is it just me, or does it look like he’s cheerfully holding a gun to her head?

Let me know if you own this image.
Note to ad agency: FAIL
Just me?

Alrighty then.

Here are the rules for What the Fuck Wednesday:

1.       THERE ARE NO RULES***

2.       On Wednesdays****, blog about what’s made you go What the Everloving FUCK???? discombobulated you that week.

3.       Steal the What the Fuck Wednesday button from my sidebar, and stick it on your sidebar or in your post.

4.       Use the link below to link up to your What the Fuck Wednesday post (not just a link to your homepage).

5.       Pop over to everyone else who’s linked up, read, and go WTF! with them in their comments.*****

* Yes I KNOW it’s Monday today. What part of Rule 1 above did you not get?! Oh wait, you haven’t read that far yet. As you were.

** Bilbies. I’m referring to the bilbies. WTF were YOU thinking I meant?

*** Actually there are 5 rules. Maybe 4. WTF?

**** For Wednesdays, read “whatever day of the week it lands on the blog”. See Rule 1 above.

***** Have I finally managed to make the footnotes longer than the post? WIN!