Blogoff Post: Camping

I really don't like camping. I'm just not into the whole pitch-a-tent-thing, sleep on a bit of foam or inflated mattress and commune with the mosquitos. I'm even less enamoured of the communal toilet/shower block or (shudder) the toilet tent or find a tree to hide behind.

I'm a comfort kind of girl. I don't have to have five star luxury, but just the basic necessities to make me feel comfortable - a hot shower, a warm bed, and a toilet that flushes properly.

So it was probably a shock to everyone when I opted to do a three week 'rough tour' of Egypt. I didn't want to see the country from a gilded hotel room and sail down the Nile on a cruiser. No, I wanted to experience the real Egypt so I booked the tour that included camel safaris, camping in the desert, and climbing Mt Sinai. Yes, it was rough and it was dirty, but it would be a big adventure.

We climbed Mount Sinai at sunset, armed with some duty free liquor with the intention of sleeping the night on the mount. Only twenty minutes into the trek I realised that my fitness regime (or lack of) had not prepared me for the climb, so I bought a camel to carry me most of the way. However, my friendly camel had a distubing habit of walking very close to the edge of the trail and it was a long way down - it really didn't do too much for my fear of heights.

Finally we reached the end of the track and the beginning of the steep steps to the summit. Already wobbly from the inner thigh workout that the camel had provided me, I huffed and puffed up the steps thinking I was on a giant stepper machine. What an aerobics workout! I was glad that I had elected to sleep on the mountain for the night because there was no way I could've stumbled back down in the dark.

The night on Mount Sinai was amazing. Bloody freezing, but amazing. Once the sun went down and the sky turned black, we were surrounded by the light of a million stars. So far out of reach of any city lights, the sight was majestic. A little shop sits at the top of the mountain and the enterprising Bedouin stay up there a month at a time, selling tea and hiring out mattresses. (sidenote: the price of bottled water increases as you get further up at the mountain at the little kiosks on the side of the trail - wonder if that is called inflation or ascendation?) Oh, I waited. I asked. But there were no more commandments that night.

There was no chance of sleeping in on Mt Sinai. The next horde of tourists started arriving, chattering, alive at an ungodly hour of four o'clock the next morning. Soon we were surrounded by numerous languages and nationalities. But with a glorious sunrise illuminating the world.

Our next camping adventure was the Camel Safari into the desert with the Bedouin, my second camel ride in two days. We met the group of Bedouin men in a makeshift camel 'carpark' and I can't remember whether we selected our camels or if the camels selected us. I don't think I'd ever get used to a camel getting up off the ground with me on its back. Our mattresses were slung over the camels' backs and we journeyed deep into the rocky desert.

When we arrived, we slung out our mattresses on the ground and the Bedouin entertained us with camel races. That evening, they cooked us food, danced with us, and sang 'That's the Way, aha, aha, I like it, aha, aha.' yes it was KC and the Bedouin band.

I started to think of my Egypt experience as the Sunrise -Sunset tour as I was awake for every sunrise (very unusual for me) and every sunset.

Then we went on our 3 day felucca cruise on the Nile. The boat's captain was also our chef. And our mattresses on the deck were also our day beds, and our dining room. But I tell you, despite the search for somewhere appropriate to ablute when we stopped at shore, I have never been more relaxed in my life. Bliss!

Of course, I didn't mind sleeping out in the open but when I had a choice of pitching a tent or upgrading to a hotel room for 10 egyptian pounds, I always opted for the four walls and the bed.

So, if you ask me if I want to go camping in the Aussie bush, you're very likely to get a resounding 'No thanks' - but if you were to say, let's go and camp out in Egypt, I'd be there again any day. I'll even put up with the 'long drops' just to experience that amazing country again.

This blogoff post is brought to you by the word 'camping'. We are blogging to raise funds for Courtney's 3 Day Walk for Breast Cancer. To make a donation to a great cause, please click on the banner.

Writing, shopping and addictions

Wow, I've survived another week of the Blogoff. There are only four bloggers left. This week we sadly bid farewell to Carly of With a Twist and a Turn. Our next topic is CAMPING and I will be bringing you more tales (and photos) of Egypt on Wednesday. I find each week harder and harder. Not the writing part. That's reasonably easy, especially when my writing muscles are exercised. It's the voting part - that is getting really hard, especially as we have to rank each other's posts. I don't like playing judge and jury.

I've been a bit slack in the blogging department, only blogging for the blogoff topics. I hope you'll excuse me. With workshops, AGM's and a heap of overtime over the past couple of weeks, I haven't been writing much. Now it's time to get serious. I have a competition to enter so need to polish 35 pages of Diary of the Future and write a synopsis. (yes - that bit I have been putting off.) And I'm doing a lot more than polishing the prose. I have rewritten the first scene completely to give much more power to Nicky - now she finds the diary herself, instead of her mother giving it to her. A few weeks to that deadline. I've been motivated by the writing workshop I did a few weeks ago - the tutor gave us one to one session on the Sunday, and was very encouraging about the project. So at the same time, I will be polishing the first three chapters to send to a publisher. Just have to get that synopsis done!!!

My Chickollage 365 Day Collage Poetry Challenge has stalled. It's been a few weeks since I've composed a poem. But I will get organised and I will get creative and I WILL get back to it. Just not today.

About six weeks ago, I realised I needed new jeans. My old faves are coming apart at the seams. So I went to the shops and tried many on. And got very depressed. And didn't buy a thing. At that point, I realised I was in the grip of that evil black liquid again and the sugar was not doing me or my thighs any favours. So April 24th I stopped drinking Coca-Cola again. And I havent' had one since. It's been water, water, water - with the occasional ginger beer thrown in for flavour.

On Friday, I realised I've replaced the coke addiction with a new addiction. I'm addicted to sushi. Not the raw fish type of sushi. But the chicken teriyaki, the sweet chilli prawn with Japanese mayo. Yum! I've been eating almost every work day, and the loyalty card stamps fill up very quickly. The great thing about this new addiction is that I have to walk to satisfy my craving. So I'm getting healthy food and exercise. And it's paying off. On Thursday night, after another bout of overtime, I went jeans shopping again, taking advantage of a buy one pair and the second pair is 50% off sale. I'm happy to report I took three pairs of jeans into the fitting room, and didn't need to try any more. A pain free shopping experience. At last. The jeans went on lay-by and I'll pick them up on payday.

I've become a member of Romance Writers of Australia. After winning second prize in the Mid North Coast Writers Association short story competition with my Cinderella story Beyond Happy Ever After, I decided to invest my winnings into my writing 'career'. I will be attending their conference in August in Darling Harbour. Two weeks after the Byron Bay Writers Festival. August is going to be one hell of a month for writing mojo!!

Blogoff Post: Regrets

Regrets...I've had a few....

but then again...

C'mon. Face it. Life is too short for regrets!

I'm not going to get all maudlin on you.

Sure, there's things that I could've done differently, experiences that I might choose to leave in the past, but I can't change anything now. So there's no point angsting about it. Just get over it, move on, move forward into the future.

I don't regret spending money on a trip to Egypt rather than putting a deposit on a block of land.

If I die not owning a piece of this earth, but with the sweet memories of standing in four thousand year old tombs and pyramids, and sailing down the Nile on a felucca, I die happy.

Too many people live in the past...regretting the dreams that they didn't live, the words they didn't speak, the people they didn't love. But they are so stuck in the past, they are not even present in the moment....and life is once again passing them by.

We all have a 'sliding doors' moment. A time where we wonder WHAT IF...I'd made the alternative decision. But we'll never really know the what if.... We can wonder, we can dream, but we still chose the path that we're now on, and turning back is not an option. And every decision you have ever made has led you to THIS place RIGHT NOW.

It's something I love about writing. I can explore the 'what's ifs'. I can 'choose-their-own-adventure' and if I don't like the outcome, I can rewrite it. Funny thing is, I rarely change the ending once it's in place. It's as if my sub-conscious knows the natural outcome of the story and once it is on paper, it only needs enhancing. Speaking of which, I need to go and do some enhancing of my current work in progress.

This was another entry in the Blogoff for Breast Cancer fundraiser. There's only a few of us left still blogging, and Courtney of Five Second Dance Party is the instigator of the fundraiser. Courtney wants to hold another blogoff in July, so if you're interested step on over to her blog, and let her know.

Blogoff Post # 9 - KISS

This is Blogoff Post #9. Each week, raising funds for Breast Cancer research, we blog on a one-word topic. We then vote on each other's posts and the person with the least votes is eliminated from the blogoff.

KISS

I was 16. He was 21.

I was the props girl on the pantomime. He had one of the leading roles.

He would give me a lift home after rehearsals, which was dangerous, because I was developing a huge crush. And who could blame me? He was absolutely gorgeous. Picture Harrison Ford of the Han Solo era, but with blonder hair.

Our theatre group was staging three performances in one day at the local RSL club, the weekend before Christmas. I had no sleep the night before. I had baby-sat for my next door neighbour and she'd arrived home at 7.30 in the morning. Being a dutiful and responsible babysitter, I had stayed up all night. I went home, had a shower, got dressed and caught a train out to the venue.

It must have been my lack of sleep that made me so brazen. Between matinees, I gave the object of my desire a Christmas card. I signed it 'XXX. These kisses can be collected at any time in person.'

After the last performance, he collected.

Blame my lack of sleep. I seized the moment. I didn't let this gorgeous man get away with a peck on the lips. No way. I went for a full-on pash. Never let an opportunity pass you by!

He pulled back in surprise and said, 'Hang on! I'm sweet and innocent you know!' And I smiled. Yeah, right! Then he said, 'That was nice, let's do that again.'

Yummy. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was one of the most memorable. Probably because it fuelled my fantasies even further. He was so handsome, and a nice guy. But in the end, he was also the perfect gentleman. I would've been willing to go anywhere, do anything with him but he never once took advantage of me. So now he's just a very fond memory.

In anticipation....

Well, it seems I've survived another round of the blog-off. This week's topic is KISS, so I will leave you to wonder if I will KISS & TELL - come back on Wednesday to find out.

In other news, after a fabulous writing workshop last weekend, I am now rewriting the first couple of chapters of Diary of the Future, and polishing it for a contest. I have decided that the previous opening of a diary entry that revealed that Nicky had been given the diary by her mother was too passive. In the new opening, Nicky finds the diary herself when she's undertaking 'slave labour' in her mother's second hand bookshop. But the boyfriend Craig needs a new name. Craig just doesn't invoke images of a 16 year old hottie. Suggestions, anyone?

I'm starting to count down the days (well the months at least) to the Byron Bay Writers Festival. There are 14 of us going this year. At least we have two 2-storey cabins between us. But still we are definitely going to need rosters for the bathrooms. And I can't imagine that we'll be able to rock up to many restaurants and find a table for 14 without booking first. Even though the program hasn't been launched, I'm already excited by the name's of the confirmed authors. And one in particular. You see, 9 years ago this author taught a novel writing subject that I did as part of a writing diploma. I never did finish the course, but she set me on the writing path. It will be great to say hello again after all this time.

Now I'm going to bed to dream about the kisses I may be writing about on Wednesday...

Blogoff Post #8: Friendship

I'm a really slack friend.

Seriously.

You ask my friends!

I hardly ever ring my long-distance friends because the last thing I want to do when I get home from work after being on the phone all day is to get on the phone again!!

So I'm slack. I occasionally email. Or I ring on public holidays or weekends when I haven't had a chance to develop a phone aversion.

But you know the great thing? For most of my friendships, it doesn't matter. We have such a strong connection that when we finally catch up we pick up exactly where we left off.

Other friendships have not lasted the distance because they were built on random and arbitary factors such as location and schooling. It turned out the only thing we had in common was our high school - no shared interet, nothing strong enough to sustain an enduring friendship. Sometimes I reach out to the old days and contact someone through schoolfriends.com only to find that we still have nothing in common.

Leane and I have been best friends since 2nd grade when she turned up on the swing in my neighbour's yard and I recognised her from school. Her house backed onto bush and we had many great adventures exploring the river at the bottom of the bush. Later we were to have lots of adult adventures including the time we placed an ad in the paper, and then double-dated the guys who answered. My nana had a friendship that lasted 50 years - wonder if we will make it that far?

As we become older, we can pick our friends by shared interests. My writing friends are a great bunch of people and I love spending time with them. And I also believe that every person enters your life jst when they're supposed to. We all influence and motivate each other in different ways. And every year, I really look forward to our pilgrimage to Byron Bay Writers Festival.

My friends have contributed to my development as a writer. They have encouraged me, motivated me, inspired me - sometimes they have even pushed me. Beyond Happily Ever After, my short story about Cinderella, would not have been written without Caz's encouragement. And I hope that I do the same for them - encourage, motivate, inspire. After all, isn't that what friendship's about?

Blogoff Post: Blood

This is blogoff post #7 - blogging to raise money for Courtney's 3 day walk for breast cancer. We started with 17? bloggers, now we're down to 8 as each week we blog on a one-word topic and then vote for each others' posts. Like the concept? Support the cause. Give if you can - a donation, a comment.

They say the first time's the hardest. Well, I never really found out. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I just couldn't think about inflicting pain.

I was a teenager at an agricultural school. That education was such a waste on me. Much to my mother's disappointment, I didn't meet the son of a rich grazier (do they exist anymore?) and I couldn't bring myself to give an iron injection to a piglet. I couldn't stick a needle into an animal. I couldn't even jab a pin into my own finger to draw blood for testing. I have no idea how junkies do it. At least my mother didn't have to worry about me getting into drugs. And if it comes down to it, and I have to give my partner insulin injections because he can't do it, I don't know how I'll do it. I guess I'll have no option.

So at the age of 20, I was working for a pizza place delivering pizzas. One household ordered their second lot of pizzas for the night and that phone call changed my life. After delivering the pizzas, I drove back to the store. A familiar road, so familiar I barely remember that drive. But I woke up two days later in intensive care.

The nurses kept asking me if I knew what day it was. I thought the constant questions were stupid. There was a digital clock in plain sight with both the date and the time. I didn't realise they were testing to see if I had brain damage. There was no brain damage, but I had a broken femur, a broken pelvis, broken ribs and a hole in my tongue. I was 'lucky' to be alive everyone kept telling me. With my leg in traction, and barely able to move, I didn't feel lucky.

I'm alive because numerous kind souls gave a part of themselves to my recovery: their blood. A fantastic gift only surpassed by the selflessness of organ donation. I'm also alive because of the magnificent efforts of the emergency department where I spent five hours while they tried to find a hospital to admit me, and for the wonderful dedication of the nursing staff.

I ended up in a ward of 24 old senile women. They gave me the best bed in the house, where I had a view of Sydney Harbour. At 2am I would watch the red light on the bridge go off, and I'd block out the demented mutterings of my fellow patients with my earphones blasting Aussie pub rock. Every morning I asked the nurse if they had transferred me to the psychiatric hospital, because I truly thought that I was going insane, and that my ward mates already were. They would joke and laugh at me and assure me I was still in the normal hospital.

I craved normality. I craved my friends. I just wanted to get up and walk out of the place. My orthopaedic surgeon told me I didn't have a leg to stand on. Haha! My shoulder turned into a pin cushion as I surrendered daily for the nurses to take blood tests. I dropped my practical subjects in my degree, and finished the bare minimum of subjects by correspondence, the lectures sent to me on tape. I didn't want to defer my course because of the actions of a drunk driver. Because that's what put me there. A drunk guy had driven straight through the red light as I was travelling through the intersection. Ploughed straight into the driver's door of my mum's car with such force that my car spun around, and ended up resting against the traffic light with his car hitting the left side.

For that little adventure, I think he lost his licence for three months. I couldn't walk unaided for four months. I spent four insane weeks in the hospital before I was allowed to go home, and started the gruelling task of physiotherapy and rehabilitation. I had a pin and plate in my leg that had to be removed again twelve months later.

That was nearly half my lifetime ago. And it taught me several things. Life is short. You don't know what is going to happen any day of your life. And nurses are the most incredible and amazing workers in this world.

Blogoff #6: CLARITY

The following is a Blog Off Post - raising funds for Breast Cancer, and organised by Courtney of Five Second Dance Party. Each week we blog on a different one word topic. This week's topic is CLARITY. The complete list of bloggers is in my sidebar in the Blogoff blogroll. Please pay them a visit and see what they have to say on this week's topic. We vote for each other's posts and the blogger with the least votes is eliminated from the blog-off. To donate money towards Courtney's fundraising efforts, please click here.


Usually my thoughts spin through my head like Whirling Dervishes.

But occasionally I have a moment of CLARITY as I did last week when I created this collage poem.

I was collaging, creating two poems at the same time. The second poem was almost forming itself. The words kept leaping out of the pile of random verbiage, wanting to be heard.

Finally, the planet
abandoning its
dramas of religion

paying attention to an already distorted situation.

A common dilemma

Name calling

Name-of-God-dropping

Hate crime.

WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.

choose responsibilities or simply act now.

discover what we have in common

oddly enough,

it's the myth of FEAR.

It is wishful thinking.

That humankind would realise that WE ARE ALL HUMAN, that we all have emotions, and that we are divided by fear. If only everyone could find the common ground. If only everyone could have their moment of clarity.


Today is ANZAC DAY in Australia. On the anniversary of the landing at Gallipolli, we remember the soldiers who have fought for our country, we remember those who have made the greatest sacrifice.

Too many lives have been lost.




Too many lives are still being lost.




In previous wars the word PROPAGANDA was used. Of course, it always referred to the material being produced by the enemy to rally the troops, to win the support of the nation, to foster patriotism and support for the cause. I haven't seen the word propaganda used in recent times. Although we are bombarded by propaganda - the skewed perspective of the images on our television, the mass weapons of destruction that didn't actually exist, the headlines in the newspaper decrying the culture of the unknown, the religion that is different to ours. We are caught in a mass media hysteria and nothing is going to change until we stop the verbal garbage and clarify the situation.


We need to REACH OUT not lash out.


We are caught in a paradox of being human. We need our ambition and patriotism to keep the world turning, yet it a double-edged sword that creates competiviness, greed, mistrust and misunderstanding.


We need less hysteria and more CLARITY in our world.


Because we are all human.

Blogoff Post: Golden

It's funny, I think I 'm starting to measure my life in Blog-off Posts. Yes, another week has passed and it's time for the weekly blog-off. This week the one word topic is 'golden'. Courtney is raising money for the Breast Cancer walk and we're blogging off in support.

All things golden have been a pursuit of man since they struck their first gold vein.

The pharoahs of Egypt were incredibly materialistic. Not only did they believe in surrounding themselves with gold in their lifetime, they did not subscribe to the saying 'you can't take it with you.' They were certainly going to do their best, even if they couldn't prevent the tomb robbers from stripping the valuables of their afterlife.

I wonder if that's where it all started. This obsession with gold, the idea that this element is more precious than anything else on this earth. It's a catalyst for greed, and has caused fights, battles and wars. Government and churches hoard it, and people lust after it.

The legend of the Midas Touch is created around the lust for gold. Pity for Midas that everything he touched turned to gold. Now it might be grand to have a gold toilet seat but when you can't eat because your food is rock solid then you have problems.

For a while, I felt that I had the opposite of the Midas touch where everything I touched turned to crap. It was extremely frustrating and as much as I strived the end result was not what I wanted. But life is turning around. While the astrologers may attribute it to Jupiter moving through my sun sign, I attribute it to something else. I've stopped trying to please everyone else. Now I aim to satisfy my own creative urge and with that focus, I am succeeding.

I haven't eschewed everything golden in my life. There's still one golden boy who is more precious to me than any number of carats. And here is Dorkus....

Blogoff Post: Shenanigans

This is a post for the Blogoff with this week's topic Shenanigans. Each week we post on a one-word topic and then rank each other's posts. So far, I have avoided the cull. But how long can it last?

Shenanigans? Let me think back. Mmm, yes, I remember shenanigans and it looks like I have a photographic proof that I used to get up to shenanigans.

with faces whited out to protect the innocent.

yes, I used to be a party girl. Erotica parties above, white trash parties below.

Rubik's Cube parties where everyone came dressed in six different colours and had to swap clothes until they were wearing the one colour.

I was a party girl.

Then there was the time in Adelaide when we placed an ad in the paper, hired a pub and threw our own singles party. Or when I got up in a room of 100 people and announced I was going to write a book called Getting Laid in Adelaide, and I needed to research it.

There was plenty of shenanigans when I was a pizza delivery driver. Friday and Saturday nights were our peak nights and going to work was like going to a party. We'd send the new drivers out to a very special address without warning them first that the walls were red velvet-lined, and the menu had more sexual positions than we had pizza toppings. They would come back bug-eyed from their first pizza delivery to the brothel. And then just for fun, we would give them a jalapeno to taste.

We'd stuff pizza dough in people's exhaust pipes and for the first anniversary of the store we ordered a special delivery for the two male bosses: a stripper!

Shenangigans indeed! I have 25,000 words of a novel already based on those wild pizza days. Let's just say that job gave me my education in sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.

So when did the shenanigans stop and reality set in?

Somewhere along the line, I settled down. I stopped partying. I became committed (or maybe should have been committed). I started dealing with bills on a scarily regular basis. I moved away from my home, away from my family and away from my friends. Now when I go to a party, it's usually a sedate, mild affair with a bit of booze, rarely any drugs, and lots of philisophical conversation. Rarely any shenanigans.

I remember my father's 40th birthday party like it was yesterday. His beetroot-faced embarrassment at the strip-o-gram. And then I remember that I'm turning 40 this year. I find it hard to believe. But then again, maybe not so.

I wonder if there'll be a stripper?

Maybe it's time for some shenanigans.

Blog-Off Number 3: PRIVACY

Blog-off Post Number 3 - We are blogging to raise money for the 3 Day Walk for Breast Cancer, with the blog-off initiated by Courtney of Five Second Dance Party. All the participants are in my special blog-roll on my sidebar and I have enjoyed reading their posts to date.Each week we have a one-word topic to blog about, and then we vote for each other's posts. The person with the least number of votes is eliminated from the competition and the blog-off continues. Last week, we said goodbye Yellow and Orange . This week?

Everyone is entitled to privacy. Including Nicole and Keith. Paris? Maybe not.

I don't know about you but my life isn't so vacuous and empty that I have to hang onto every image and rumour that the gossip magazines can churn out on a weekly basis. Why is celebrity such a commodity? Why do we need pictures of film star’s private vacations? Why do we need blurry out of range shots taken surreptitiously by wedding guests instead of the official released photographs? And who asked the glossy mags to pay stars exclusive rights for their honeymoon photos?

I’d hate to be a celebrity. Who made the price of fame forfeiting privacy? When you decide that you want to be a great actor, do you also decide that you want every minute that you step out in public photographed, reproduced in millions of magazines across the globe, dissected by a hungry public?

Even celebrities are entitled to privacy. They may be public figures, but this does not mean that we are entitled to own them, to stalk them every moment that they are in public.

In the golden years of Hollywood, the stars' public appearances were carefully stage managed and orchestrated by the studios to present the best public image. Today’s celebrities don’t know where the paparazzi may be lurking, or if Joe Citizen may decide to snap them with his hot new mobile phone camera and email the photos to a tabloid.

I no longer actively support the gossip magazine industry. Although I need magazines to create my collage poems, I buy them second-hand, compensating the poor sucker who paid full price for them. The stories are ludicrous and I’m not sure anyone with a shred of integrity can write the stories unless they are deluded to the truth. I’ve lost count of the number of times that Nicole has been pregnant (article complete with baby bump photos) since she married Keith, and the number of times have Angelina and Brad’s relationship has been on the rocks.

I’m pleased that my teenage dreams of being an actress did not come true. I’m happy that I can visit the supermarket without having to slap on the full dash of make-up for fear my face may be plastered over a magazine. I’m happy that I can live my life without feeling that I’m living inside a goldfish bowl. I’m happy that I have my privacy.

On my Chickollage blog, I have set myself a challenge of creating a collage poem every day for a year. So today's collage poem is an illustration of the above article.

March was a write-off (pardon the pun)

Okay, March is over and I failed Nanoedmo badly. March was not the month for me to commit to 50 hours of editing. No way! March, and probably only March, was the month that I had a life! Writing retreats, book launches and the usual work, work, work.

However, this week I'm on holidays so this week I will be tackling the editing again.

I have also introduced my writers' group to Club 100, writing a minimum of 100 words a day for 100 days, so that needs to be fitted into my day as well. And then I decided that the 100 word challenge is not a huge challenge for me at all - I do that most days without thinking about it. So I have also challenged myself to create a collage poem every day for a year, starting April 1st. (and it wasn't an April Fool's joke, I just needed a definitive date to start and I didn't want to wait another month). Each day the collage poem will be posted on my Chickollage blog. (There will be a break over Easter while I'm away, but I will still create the collage poems, and post them when I get back to my internet connection)

Here is one I prepared earlier:

Copyright 2006 Diane Curran

I love hanging out with writers. They speak a different language to the ordinary non-creative person. They understand the excitement of creativity. They understand what it means to be in the zone. They know what you mean when you say that the character took on a life of their own and did something completely unexpected.



On Friday evening I attended a book launch for a friend's book of poetry, aptly called Poet Tree. It was a good turn-out and I was able to speak to one of the judges of the short story competition in which I won second prize and reveal myself as the author of Beyond Happily Ever After. So we chatted about how the story came about and where I'm going with my writing. And I became the evening's official photographer, but I was using my film SLR (my digital is sucking the life out of the batteries as soon as I put them in, or maybe the batteries are not recharging properly) so it will be a few days before I have photos, as I need to finish off the film.



Now I'm doing my homework for the writers' group (and that is a rare occurrence, I'm usually too busy writing other stuff). The homework is the 'Writer's Journey' so I am writing about my own journey as a writer so far. Will post to the blog when it is finished.

Police - Blogoff Round 2

"Open up! It's the pi-igs!"

One of my favourite episodes of The Young Ones is Cash, when Rik, Mike and Vyvyan make hippie Neil get a job to support the household, so he becomes a policeman complete with baton and walkie talkie. He is called to bust a party at his friends' house and the scene where he knocks on the door, calling out 'Open up! It's the pi-igs!' and then half-heartedly raids the place, while warning his friends to flush their stash still makes me giggle now.



I had a run in with the police when I was nineteen. I jumped into the neighbour's pool at nine o'clock on a sultry summer evening and the sticky beaks across the road called the cops. I had permission to used the pool while my neighbours were away. But I guess that permission did not extend to my numerous friends at night. So the police turned up and asked us to vacate the pool but my then-boyfriend (who was much older) gave them a bit of lip, so they asked him for i.d and gave him the third degree.



It's funy how portrayals of police on television can influence your expectations. One evening I was home alone when I saw the police walking up my driveway. My partner was away interstate, so I immeicatly thought the worst -- that the police were coming to inform me that he'd had an accident. But no -- they were looking for the guy who lived next door, because he'd been up to no good. I was more relieved to know that my partner was okay than to worry about living next door to a potential fugitive.



One night I was delivering pizzas, and was pulled over for a breath test.
'Have you had a drink today?' asked the young constable.
'I'm working,' I replied. 'I don't drink while I'm working. What about you?'
(hah, I was a bit cheeky in my youth)
'No, I don't,' he said, and promptly breathalysed himself to prove it.
'Now it's your turn,' he said, after he replaced the pipe.
Lucky I was telling the truth!

This is Round 2 of the Blog-off organised by Courtney of Five Second Dance Party. Last week, we sadly saw Super Duper Fantastic and Motivated Motion eliminated. If you would like to make a donation to the cause, click on the link.

The MP3 Oracle

I found this one surfing Blog Explosion at Gritoland.

Turn your MP3 or Ipod on. Choose all your music and turn the player on random. (I don't know about you, but I always have my MP3 on random). Press forward to each question and use the song title to answer each question with your own comments added.

So this is my MP3 oracle:

1.How are you feeling today?
I need a Man - (Eurythmics)
Whoah!

2. Will you get far in life?
I Can't Stand the Way he says your name. (Chris Wilson)
Mmm, maybe not if I'm going to be jealous and judgemental.

3. How do your friends see you?
What about Me? - (Moving Pictures)
It isn't Fair, I've had enough now I want my share! Um, selfish bunch, aren't they?

4.Will you get married?
Whispering Your Name - (Alison Moyet)

No, I don't quite get the connection. Why would I be whispering? I thought we were supposed to speak vows. Not whisper.

5. What is your best friend’s theme song?
Face in the Mirror ....tells me I'm doing fine (Chris Wilson)


6. What is the story of your life?
What's Going On - (4 Non Blondes)

Yeah, this is pretty apt. I'm always wondering what's going on.

7. What was high school like?
Sweet Incarnadine - (Jane Siberry)
???????????
'the open sesame of a kiss' - although that wasn't with a high school guy

8.How can you get ahead in life?
Love Games - (bluehouse)

Playing love games didn't really get me ahead in life. It just brought me heartache so I think I'll pass on that bit of advice and draw a rune or a tarot card instead.

9.What is the best thing about your friends?
Magic - (Olivia Newton John)
...have to believe...

10. What is in store for this weekend?
Last Name - bluehouse
'By the way, I forgot to ask your last name. '
No, I don't think a one-night stand with a stranger is on the agenda but then again, number one was 'I need a man'!

11. To describe your grandparents?
Emptiness - (bluehouse) so much for shuffle)

Perhaps because all my grandparents have passed away.
'Maybe a good cry is all I really need. The emptiness of needing you.'

12. How is your life going?
The Angel and the Madman (Moving Pictures)
Angelic but crazy?

13. What song will they play at your funeral?
Bow River - (Cold Chisel)
Maybe Bow River is heaven.

14. How does the world see you?
Physical (Olivia)
Definitely not, I'm not an exercise person.
This is just getting silly now.

15. Will you have a happy life?
Desperado...waiting on a tram. (Chris Wilson)
I could be waiting for a long time, there are no trams here.

16. What do your friends really think of you?
Janelle (cold chisel)
what they think my name is Janelle? I've been called lots of names, not Janelle.

17. Do people secretly lust after you?
Hymn to Her (Pretenders)
- well they must then. "Let me inside you!'

18. How can I make myself happy?
(how come we changed to the first person????)
Bustin' Loose - Moving Pictures

So I should get stoned, drink, go all the way, be a crazy poet and a beauty queen? Maybe there's other ways to bust loose

19. What should you do with your life?
I Carry you with me (Heather Nova)

Carry who? Can't you walk?

20. Will you ever have children?
I believe (Marcelle Detroit)....not...


21. What song would you strip to?
Out of My mind (marcelle Detroit)
Um, it's a bit slow, but I suppose a slow strip could work.

22. If a man in a van offered you candy, what would you do?
I Want it All (Eurythmics)
Me, greedy? Never! But maybe it's a Cadbury van!

23. What does your mum think of you?
Janelle (cold chisel)
WTF? My mother thinks I'm Janelle too? is there something someone hasn't told me? am I adopted? And why does my MP3 repeat a song within 7 songs??????

24. What is your deep dark secret?
Brand New Day (Eurythmics)
Maybe my deep dark secret is my love of the Eurythmics???
'I won't be sad. I won't be destroyed.'

25. What is your mortal enemy’s theme song?
Some Girls (Racey)

!!!! 26. What’s your personality like?
When Tomorrow Comes (Eurythmics)
Okay, I've been busted. I'm a procrastinator. Like Scarlett O'Hara, I'll think about it tomorrow. Is this what this song is trying to tell me?

27. Which song will be played at your wedding?
Hymn to Her (again???)


So that's the oracle. It's fun playing, although I think I'd like to change some of the questions. Get a bit more specific, maybe adapt a tarot spread - the 12 house astrological spread could work well. I shall give it some thought.

And as for the song to be played at the wedding, the next song that played after 'Hymn to Her' was 'Shoot out at the Seven Eleven'. I guess that must be the honeymoon. I better cancel the wedding!

So if you choose to play the MP3 Oracle, leave a link in the comments so I can read your oracle. Have fun!

Finally a day at home

Much as I love going away with my friends from the Writers Group, it was such a pleasure to spend the day at home today. It's the first day at home I've had for two weeks. Much needed. And appreciated. I watched The Chronicles of Narnia, Love My Way (why oh why did Foxtel decide to rush through the season by screening double episodes), scanned photos and updated blogs.

But now I have five days of work and then I'm off for ten days straight including the Easter break. The first five days will be spent at home, then a couple of days will be spent with dad over easter, and then another day at home. I'm looking forward to some solid editing time over those five days.n bbbbm bbbbbb (if you're wondering about the sanity of that last sentence - it's a statement from Dorkus the cat as he walked across the keyboard. He doesn't like me going away either so I'll whisper about the plans for Easter.)

I've spent the last week at work throwing out lots of stuff. I can't believe how much I'd managed to accumulate over 7 years. But as of Monday, I'm a virtual person with no permanent desk. All my Egyptian artefacts went home. All my photos, my Nanowrimo winners certificates, the pics of me and Alex from Moving Pictures, the flower calendar from last year which was no longer functional but looked pretty, the magazines I'd been cutting up, all have migrated home. And then I culled all the information, brochures, training material so that I could fit everything into one chest of drawers. It's going to be strange not having my own desk, and moving every week or so as I need to.

On Friday evening I went to a farewell for a work friend who is moving to Brisbane. Sometimes, it feels that my workplace is a transit lounge, there are so many people moving on, sometimes within the organisation and others out of the organisation. I've lost count of the number of people that I've bid farewell to over the years.

Speaking of bidding farewell, we are saying farewell to Motivated Motion and Super Duper Fantastic in the blog-off as they had the lowest points after all the votes were tallied. I found writing my piece easy but ranking every one else's contribution was excrutiating and I'm sure it will get harder as we get more into the competition. Personally, I wouldn't mind if we all kept writing for 16 weeks and had no winner, and just donated the whole lot of the money to Breast Cancer. But that's probably just me. The next topic is 'Police' and I have no idea what I will be writing for that one.

And it seems that I haven't had any visits from people looking for porn sites since my Blog-off post. I'm sure they'll be around some time, they just haven't linked the terms together as yet.

Laughter - Blogoff Post # 1

My mother knew how to laugh. Big belly laughs that could rock a whole row of cinema seats. Her chuckles were like a minor earthquake, measuring on the Richter scale.

I miss my mother so much. I miss her wicked sense of humour, her smile and her laugh. I'm ashamed that I was so embarrassed by her as a teenager because now I can think of no happier sound than my mother's laughter. Mum enjoyed and loved life, and wanted to share that enjoyment with everyone: check-out chicks, the neighbours she bumped into down the street, the cats, the dogs, the cockatoo and especially her family.

Mum didn't learn to drive until I was 13 years old. But once she gained her licence and her independence, there was no holding her back. She loved driving, deliberately weaving or kangaroo hopping down a quiet street - just for fun - and she relished the opportuniity to get lost, take the long way round and discover new places along the way.

Driving gave her the opportunity to try new things. She took up cooking classes and prepared culinary banquests in several cuisines. She took oil painting lessons for a few years but she found her talent in cake decorating, churning out wedding cakes, christening cakes, cakes for any occasion.

For Dad's 50th birthday, she made a pick-up truck cake with a 'load of hot cock' because that was one of his favourite sayings at the time. The tray was filled with chocolate penises, and a pair symbolised the wipers. The sight of the cake was a catalyst of laughter for the party guests and this photo is a permanent reminder of my mum's wicked sense of humour.


So now in my first blog-off post for boobs, I've mentioned breasts and hot cocks, so I guess I'll get a few hits from the raincoat brigade. So while you're here, gentlemen, show your appreciation for the female body and follow the link to make a donation for breast cancer research!

The Blog Off starts tomorrow

I'm back from the retreat and the result of taking my SLR camera means that I hardly took any digital photos. So posting of photos willl have to wait.

We had a fabulous, relaxing and creative weekend. The weather was stunning on Friday and Saturday, although overcast on Sunday morning. Maggie had a visit from a ghost named Fred on Friday night and swapped cottages the next night. We ended up with eight more 'Pass-the-Stories', I read my first monologue for the Monologue Project, and we exercised our writing muscles in all three workshops.

We wrote a five page letter to Jen, who is pining for us in Melbourne, and after telling her in the letter that I had not taken any collage stuff (words nor magazines) to the retreat, I discovered an envelope of words in the side pocket of my suitcase. They have been in there since my trip to Adelaide. And so I made Jen a collage to accompany the letter. It is always incredible in collage poetry that the perfect words are available at just the right time. Will post this to the blog early next week.

In the meantime, the Blog-off is about to start, and I have blogrolled all the participants on my sidebar. The first topic is LAUGHTER and the blog post will be up on Wednesday. As this is a fundraiser for breast cancer, I have used the first topic as a catalyst to write about my mother, who fought hard and long against the disease.

I better go - I need to find the photos to accompany the LAUGHTER post.

The Annual Writers Retreat

It's back to the Lighthouse tomorrow for our annual Writers Retreat. (well, at least I hope the fact that this is Number 2 means that it will be an annual event!)

We had such a great time last year! I've been looking forward to this weekend for a long time. The scenery is gorgeous, the company is superb, and I don't have to drive too far to make my escape! (2 hours each way)

Although all these shots from last year were taken with my trusty little Kodak Easyshare digital, I'm taking the film SLR camera as well this time. I'm hoping I can get some more shots like this friendly kookaburra, and some great landscapes. Much as I love the instant gratification of the digital, the shutter takes a long time to activate, and sometimes I miss the bit I wanted to shoot. So the Canon SLR is loaded with film, with a couple of spare rolls and I will try and do some nature walks over the weekend and get some special sunrise and sunset shots.

I expect this year's retreat will have a totally different flavour to last year's because it will be a different mix of people. Last year there was me, Carol, Roby, Lisa, Jen, Markus, Rose, Marilyn, Sue S and Sue M.

This year Jen (below) has moved to Melbourne (we will miss you Jen!), Sue M is climbing Everest for the second time (because the first time wasn't enough) and we won't even have a token male to outnumber in our discussions.

Carol, Roby,Lisa and I will still be there but we will be joind by five NEW members of the writers' group which is very exciting. Lisa is cooking an Indian banquet on Saturday night, and we all have to dress up for the occasion and we will have a series of workshops over the weekend including Writing Fiction from Real Life Stories and Writing Life Stories. I will be giving a workshop on using Astrology to write fictional characters.

I'll be back to report on the weekend on Sunday night!