Sexiness

i found this post in my trash bin. I decided i liked it so i am publishing it about 6 months after it was written.

My how things have changed since then. but that's another post all together.

I have been itching to write. In fact I take that back. I have needed to write. I just didn't know it.

There is nothing worse than undeniably knowing that you have something to say but can't even begin to articulate what that something is. You encapsulate the true meaning of Uselessness. When you do manage to finally nail the catch phrase that sums up the point you ache to get across, hopefully you can drive it home and allow reconciliation of ideas, thoughts, conflict of emotions that have the ability to render you sleepless and mame your consciousness into a zombie like state.

or maybe thats just me.

I guess ....what i am trying to say...is that....this shit is therapeutic. There is a reason people have written things down and maintained diaries since inventing hieroglyphics. The process of exporting information from our brains brings us clarity and affirmation of logical thoughts that, up until that point, you were physically unable to summarise. It makes the intangible, tangible.

I'm currently in uncharted territory, personally and professionally. By no means Robinson Curosoe, however;

• I'm about to turn 27.
• I'm single....1 year in denial and roughly 24 hours confirmed.
• I'm starting to carve out an actual career (and i use the term loosely) in that i can somewhat see that i might take a step above the menial 9 to 5 role at some point in the next few years
• I recently moved into my a place on my own and i can verify that ...walking around naked lives up to the hype. It's awesome.
• I have no idea what the next 5 years will bring and am most certain it will end up with me still living on my own, pondering life, except that i may be the proud owner of 2 kittens called Tabitha and Molly. *sigh*
• I'm female

Now clearly the last point is nothing new, however, what that means for me in terms of my life right now is something i don't believe i was prepared for but most importantly something i have struggled to embrace.

Let me explain.

I have a soft spot for a blogger who writes a post named All Men are Liars. Over the years he has written sympathetic topics in relation to females, however my judgement was that these posts were more akin to some kind of personal martyrdom than any actual concern about the issue highlighted. Considering that they were coming from the same man who had historically used his blog for enticing 'females of personal interest'.

Over time, even if at points it seemed forced, Sam presented himself as a genuine advocate for big questions he was pitching to the readers of Fairfax digital. His recent post on You're such a girl put the finger on a pulse of dread i've not been able to shake for quite some time. The qualities that make us feminine are also the qualities that are, for want of a a better term, frowned upon in any other environment than that of the domestic. What defines us physically, mentally and emotionally is, in my opinion still working against us in too many ways. Natasha Walter's second book, Living Dolls, looks at the way we have conjured such a narrow view of female functionality and sexuality in society. We still have the wrong role models or lack of aspiration to look past the 'glamour' factor when it comes to success. The glass ceiling exists but now it's the women putting it there and not only that, we are getting out the bloody spray and wipe while we are at it, checking our lipstick in the reflection.

This notion that we can be glamour models, strippers, prostitutes because now it's OUR choice just screams of denial and lack of imagination about what we could truly become. It's a false positive. We've been tricked into thinking it's what we chose to be, what we considered to be sexual and female. What scared me most of all is that this started to lead to resentment. I started to resent the women who bought into the hype that it was a choice we made to prance around naked for money and further more that paying for sex was actually sexy.

Resenting yourself for being female is not a good thing. I have since learned that it's not being female that i hate. It's the perception of what it means to be female that i struggle with. With such a narrow view of what we are good for it limits what we believe it is possible to achieve.

So i've decided its time for a change.

Items my mother has sent me in the Post

1) A potato masher
She was so impressed by the design.

2) A Howards Storage Catalogue
Note: this was accompanied by pictures taken on the mobile phone of ‘stretch’ shelves she had purchased to create more room in her own kitchen cupboards, primarily for the pots and pans

3) A Saba Business Shirt she purchased but never wore and some Mineral ID makeup that she didn’t like (again after purchasing)
Yes I know…..Occasionally my mum rocks

4) Hair Straighteners
Possibly to stop me from using hers every time i visit

I expect this list to grow now that I have moved into my own place. I find it fascinating what my mother will go out of her way to put down the shute of an Australia Post Box thinking ‘oh she really needs that!’

I think more people should post things to each other.
It's fun

Something about Ted...

This post has been, without a doubt, as prompt as The Royal Mail at Christmas. It's been a long time coming and there are a number of things i would love to serve up as an excuse but the truth remains as clear as the definition on all those expensive / fancy TV's I can't afford.

I've been procrastinating.

I hate writing as much as I love it. I hate that it takes focus and concentration. It is (by default) not an easy task for me. However, it gets to a point where there are too many thoughts swimming around in my head and there is no other option but to dispose of them. Quite literally. Welcome to my wheely bin. If only some of it could be recycled.

{Pause}

When the hell did they change the name of Who wants to be a Millionaire to 'Hot Seat'?

{continue}

So where was I?....oh yes. Bondi.

Bondi Beach Australia.

3 years into my life as a Sydneyite, i found my pocket. My Cove. My Nest. My Burb.

The inner west.

Balmain / Rozelle to be more exact. It fit like an old pair of jeans that looked all the more better after dodging the wash cycle for a month. The high street (Darling Street) would have been something I developed in an ideal alternate reality. The fact that it has more pubs per square meter than any other suburb in Sydney had absolutely nothing to do with the admiration.

I was 1 of 3 in a fundamentally fabulous flat share that spanned from Curtis Road in Balmain and moved onto Percy Street in Rozelle. Just around the corner from the 3 Weeds. Astoundingly i was able to stay put in the same place for almost 2 years. A near first for me.

When my relationship of 12 months fell apart (read: rapidly dissolved into a fiery molten of lava screaming down the descent of Mount Vesuvius) and my best friend and her partner oh so responsibly and should i add.....so selfishly, decided they wanted to climb onto the ever elusive sydney property ladder and purchase a house, i was left with a rather daunting decision.

Where do i go?

The choice was between another flat share, which, ran the risk of cohabiting with an incompatible random or try and defy the gods of property management and lease my own place. At a point where i wasn't prepared to make a huge commitment to anyone let alone anything including a rental agreement and craving life by the water, i chose the random flat share. After registering on a website that 'matches' potential roomies and fighting off my persistently annoying mate who kept trying to complete my profile for me...I was ready to see what the Big Brother lifestyle had in store.

Inbox (1 Unread message)

"Hi Liz,

I have a great sun filled room in a top floor flat in North Bondi. I work in design and like to eat out, have friends around...

......long walks by the beach ......etc'

Cheers

Ted

Bondi?...the thought of it was subconsciously making me twitch. But there was something about the ad.

Something about Ted.

Something about living in the furthest nautical point away from my ex in all of Sydney. Nobody in their right mind ventures from West Sydney to the Eastern Suburbs without packing provisions I thought.

So i made the call...visited the flat and..... as fate would have it, moved my stuff in 3 weeks later. I was the proud occupant of 3.5 x 4 square meters in Blair Street North Bondi. Right across from the golf course and whatever this thing is.

This started out as a post about living beside the world's most famous beach but apparently there was more context required than i first thought.

Which now begs a post part#2. I promise it will be up before next Christmas. Although i can't say the same for The Royal Mail.

Outback Update - Day #3

Oh shame on you unimaginative souls who thought nothing exciting would happen aboard a train in the middle of nowhere!

A few bumpy moments at Breakfast and some Camels running into the distance provided a small distraction.... but I'll get back to that in just a moment.

Stopping in Adelaide yesterday afternoon was a g0d send after the first 24 hours. We had just under 3 hours to 'de-train' and when everyone else stepped onto the tour bus i stepped straight into a pub. I didn't end up seeing much of Adelaide but the part that i did see.....A beer Garden mixed with Coopers Pale Ale.....i will always look back upon fondly.

Dashed back onto the train just as they were blowing the whistle. My old mate Dale who is in the cabin across from me got back on board absolutely beaming. He had caught up with an ex girlfriend whom he hadn't seen in 17 years. He told me practically nothing had changed and that they had such a wonderful time just talking for hours (um excuse me i just have something in my eye)

He even followed up with a phone call to her about an hour after we left the station. He's in for sure. Note, i don't usually make a habit of eavesdropping on elderly peoples soppy conversations, in this case I was just providing encouragement and moral support.

Shortly after 9am we hit the start of the Nullabor. The word Nullabor derives from the latin 'Nullas' meaning none or nothing and 'Abor' meaning tree. Hmmmm No trees. Makes Sense. There isn't much to it after the first hour. Seen one Nullabor you've seen them all. Just kidding. I won't attempt to string together words to try and explain exactly just how huge and empty a place like this is. I think it has a different effect on each person. It's something you have to experience.

Later that morning we arrived in Cook. Population 5. It used to be a little more populated with a fully functioning school and hospital, right up until about 10 years ago. Now it really is ....quite literally, a ghost town. The Nullabor is an eerie place. Mix that with a small decrepit settlement, rickety old signs swaying in the wind and a limestone desert for a back yard and you have the biggest sense of nothingness unlike anything i have felt before. It was probably the second time on this trip i have regretted not bringing a proper camera. As awesome as my iphone is, the pics i took really fail to capture the place. The basket ball and tennis courts were overgrown with shrubs and all that was left of the nets was just a few pieces of string. There is a sign on the outside which welcomes you to the 'Cook Country Club'. I wonder how much that membership cost.

The whole place seems as though everyone just suddenly vanished without a trace. Like the entire town had just stopped what they were doing and left without saying a word. Where are Moulder and Scully when you need them?

I wandered up to the front of the train to take a closer look at the track (read: see if the driver was any cute) when I spotted a few of the staff all gathered around looking at something underneath the first carriage. Probably just tightening some bolts or checking for damage I thought. It had been quite bumpy that morning.

As i got closer I realised that actually, we had done some damage. There was blood spewed all over the front drivers carriage, right up across the window. I thought back to breakfast and at the same time caught the eye of one of the train crew i recognised from working behind the bar in the lounge cart.

He looked at me..... i stared at him. He looked away......... then i looked away. The we both looked at each other .........and we both looked away .....and then i asked. 'Um, did we hit a f@cking Camel?'

He looked at me for about 20 seconds and then said. 'Yup'

'Holy Sh!t' i said. 'Was that what that bump was'. I saw his mates running away and didn't even put 2 and 2 together. Poor unlucky b@astard. Of the thousands of sqaure kilometers in the all of the Nullabor he really was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. The driver later went on to tell us that there were 3 of them on the track and he was the last one to look up. Lousy f@cking mates i thought. Saw a train and didn't even tell him. I wandered a bit closer to the carriage and saw that they were still scraping off the rest of the camel's flesh from underneath. Apologies to anyone who may be eating just now!

It was wicked stuff.

Anywho - again i haven't had any signal since late last night so have no idea when i might be able to send this. It will probably be the last update so thanks again for humouring me through the outback. We get into Kalgoorlie at around 8:30 this evening but i think we are still on some crazy version of Central Australian time. G0d i have no idea what day it is let alone what time it is right now. We do a night tour of Kalgoorlie and then back on board for the last night finally arriving in Perth at around 9:10am tomorrow morning.

That's local time Katie.

I absolutely cannot wait.

Now i just need to work out how i am getting home.

Just kidding Lordy =D

Some old guy who sounds as though he is shouting at everyone when he talks, cause he is deaf, has just accused the staff members of stealing his walking cane.

Love to all

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoox

Outback Update - Day #2

Hurrah, I managed to survive the first night!. As comfy as my fold out trestle table was....i did find it a tiny bit hard to sleep. I was convinced the train was traveling at least 50k's faster than it had been during the day. Maybe the train driver had fallen asleep and accidentally leant on the leaver that makes it go faster? we were a runaway steam engine about to derail surely.

Between that and my sister calling to ask me how the Hogwarts Express was traveling and whether or not i would be stopping at Hogsmead for a Butter Beer, I was in and out of slumber until roughly 5am.

One of the more amazing experiences of this trip happens once you switch off all the lights in your cabin. The stars twinkle out here. Who woulda thought.....and you get to fall asleep under them. I did have a moment of panic in the morning, a little closer to Broken Hill. I didn't realise how close the train track was to the station carpark and i was still in my nightie!....After 3 failed attempts i managed to get the curtain closed properly. Good morning Broken Hill!

Waking up this morning was surreal. The scenery had changed somewhat since the Blue Mountains. The earth was red and the shrubs were small black and dark green. One thing i wasn't expecting however were the huge puddles of muddy water that covered everything. It was f@cking raining. And i'm not talking a tiny drizzle, it was bucketing down.

They tell me Broken Hill receives on average 10 inches of rain a year and they had received at least 6 of those in the last 5 days. I was just thankful the track hadn't sunk into the ground by that stage and we were able to roll in and out of the station without a hitch.

Off the train at 6:30am and onto a bus for a tour of the town. It took us a little longer to get going as the bus driver couldn't find the windscreen wipers. Apparently it had been a few years since he had to use them. Brilliant.

Once windscreen wipers were operational we drove around town and up to the mine. A few pieces of trivia for you;

• BHP was established in Broken hill by 7(??) blokes who realised it was silver instead of tin they were digging up out of the ground and together could aquire a larger piece of land. And BHP stands for........ you guessed it ....Broken Hill Proprietary. i never ever knew that.
• There are 2 sets of traffic lights in town as opposed to the 32 located underground.
• Coffs Harbour has the big banana, Woombye has the big pineapple, Goulburn has the big Merino but Broken Hill's got THE BIG SEAT. It's fantastic actually. It's a huge Park Bench on top of the mining hill that looks out over the town. Maybe i really am on the Hogwarts Express as it was just about the right size for hagrid i'd say.
• Oh and a guy called Chips Rafferty was born in Broken Hill. I have no idea who he is either.

Amongst other historical type stuff, Broken Hill has a very prominent arts and craft culture. They are very good at using the old industrial materials and creating sculptures that just blend into the rest of the landscape. They have more galleries than pubs and the canvas paintings are extremely good. Not as good as yours though Dad.

Anyway, back on the train of love now and have had no real signal since leaving Broken Hill around 4 hours ago. We get into Adelaide around 3pm this avo and have 3 hours in the city. Thank Chr!st, I'm off to the pub!

Also, a 62 year old lady is now my hero. Dressed in only a threadbare robe she announced to one of the train crew:

Nanna - 'excuse me, some man has left his underwear in that shower cubicle'

Train person - 'so sorry madam we will be sure to remove them at once'

Nanna - 'Don't worry about that, i'm just disappointed he wasn't still in there when i got in for a wash'

Yup - this is the Geriatrics Train that Rocks.

Hope everyone is well. Sorry for the outback spam but i genuinely feel it's helping me keep a small piece of my sanity until i make it to perth!

Lots of love

Thomas the Tank Engine Salvage

Outback Update - Day #1

Well as most of you probably are aware, I chickened out on catching the plane and am officially aboard the indian pacific rail (or the IP as the train staff like to call it) en route to Perth . I am roughly 200 kilometers into an overall railway journey of 4,352 k's. So far i have walked the entire length of the train, started the crossword in the complimentary on board magazine and been to the toilet 4 times......... and it's still another 2 hours until dinner.

I have books, DVDs, my laptop and Music to keep me occupied for the next 3 days and 3 nights. I think i just might make it to the Indian Ocean without getting cabin fever. To be fair, the cabins are pretty cosy. I am in a single sleeper which is about the same size as a small en-suite. During the day the ironing board bed is put away and you have a small table, a large seat and a basin in the corner. There is also a large window that gives you decent views of the countryside. There are communal showers and toilets at the end of each carriage. I snuck a peak in the double and family size cabins which are very roomy indeed. Around the same size as a regular size bathroom. (No idea why i keep comparing sizes to bathrooms by the way)

They also warn you that you need to be conscious of getting up out of your seat and move around regularly to keep up the blood circulation. Mandy - are there any Yoga moves suitable for smaller cramped areas? the train conducter pose?

So far however, there has been no sight of any cute male passengers or staff........ or anyone under the age of 40 for that matter.

They have 'train radio' which provides running commentary on the scenery and plays dodgy Celtic style music in between Banjo Patterson and friends.

We just passed through the Blue Mountains and i must admit the view is amazing. We arrive in Broken Hill at approximately 6:30 am tomorrow morning where you can hop off the train and do a tour. We then get to Adelaide at around 330 in the afternoon where i will hopefully be hitting the pub with some of the HP Help desk boys.

Some interesting facts include:

• A total journey time of 65 hours
• Average speed of 85 km's an hour
• If i had left Sydney on a plane at the exact same time i would have been about to land in Perth right about now :)

Any who, i have was going to attach some pics of the cabin and carriage but i am having trouble uploading them. Once i have this sorted I will see if i can take some more of the dining and lounge area a bit later on without looking like a russian spy.

Oh and I have just been handed a blue ticket which means i am in the 1st welcome session to be held in the lounge at 6:30 sharp. Excellent.

Luv ya's

Liz

xoxoxo