There are a few songs that have been floating around my life for a long time. And tonight as I reflect on the latest epic fail in my so called love life, I revist this one.
I've been rocking to this song since it was released over a decade ago. A little bit sad? Yes. But it is still a remarkably fabulous song and the film clip feels a little bit like my life these days.
I am a single, childless woman under 30 who rents. Do you think I've ever been wooed by a major political party? Nope. Not once.
As a result my vote tends to be cast by mixing a general moral alignment with the decision about who I would least like to be my political leader.
One Nation/Family First/Kooky Independent candidates go towards the bottom, and the ALP, Greens and the party formerly known as the Democrats near the top. I number every bloody candidate on that bloody senate ballot just so I can decide who to put last. If that doesn't make you feel depressed about voting, I don't know what will. Oh, and I've never lived in a marginal seat so realistically, my vote has never made a difference.
I'm a bloomin' swinging voter, you would think that would mean something. Sure, I'm a lefty social worker and a member of my union so I can hardly expect any attention from the LNP, but wouldn't you think the ALP and the Greens would be 'all over this'? Promising me x dollars and x morally satisfying policies?? But seeing as I don't fall into a neat voting category no one bothers mentioning the issues I really care about (women, Indigenous Australians, supporting a vibrant non-profit community sector). Not even on Twitter. I have to go and find the answers.
Don't get me wrong, climate change, gay marriage and refugees are all issues I care about, but I am cynical about them as well. I'm cynical because I have yet to see any real leadership on these issues from either major party, and until I do they will not get my vote, they will only lose it.
So what are some of the other big ticket election issues/promises that I could be lured with? Education? Well, I don't have kids, nor am I studying. So that's a bust. Health? Well, I'm reasonably young, reasonably healthy and I have private health insurance. So as long as they keep the PBS going, I'm pretty happy. Paid parental leave? Well, I don't have children, I don't have a partner and I don't see kids in my life any time soon. Doh! The national broadband network? Yeah, that would be pretty awesome and I support it, but I live in a major city so it's less of an issue for me.
Seeing as I'm not being offered anything, I can only imagine what would be a nice election promise for a single childless woman who diligently pays her taxes as she establishes her career. Perhaps something that would make it easier for me to buy my first property? Or perhaps something to help me get better at managing my finances and debt?
Wouldn't that be awesome. Some kind of national program seeking to increase the financial literacy of women? Core blimey. That would get my vote.
You know what else would get my vote? A party leader who actually lead. As much as I loathed John Howard, and boy, you know I did, at least the bastard would make a decision and stick to it. A trait that ultimately saw him ousted from power, but at least he stood for something and was consistent about it.
While I continue to wait and hope for a leader I can have faith in, I'll just have to settle for voting against people instead of for them.
And people wonder why us young(ish) folk are apathetic about voting …..
Having never been in a relationship, Valentine's Day has historically meant just about nothing to me. I usually blink and miss it. Although I have noticed that there are always lots of very lovely flowers at very reasonable prices available for foxy young misses to buy themselves on February 15.
While I normally let the day pass by without much public comment, I couldn't quite stop myself this year. And okay, yes, writing about how much you 'don't care' about something does come across as a little bit 'lady-doth-protest-too-much'. But I can't help it. This year, I care.
I care that every time either myself or another single friend makes any kind of disparaging comment re: V Day, someone, somewhere, rolls their eyes and labels me/them 'bitter'.
I care that I have to watch footage of people romancing, kissing and proposing on the news. It's not news!
And I care that some of the most fabulous people I know have moments of utter despair because for some reason, just being themselves isn't enough.
I hate to say it, but not only do I think that this day is just an excuse for companies to sell us things in new and interesting ways, it also feels like it is an excuse for couples to be a bit smug.
So what's the antidote? Why a good solid dose of Smug Singleton, of course!
I had a great weekend.
Friday: Most spectacular birthday dinner party with friends. Food and Sangria was plentiful whilst I 'wowed' the table with the kind of conversation that only someone with a limited sense of propriety can bring.
Saturday: I slept in, cleaned the house (I can see my floor!!), went shopping (handbags!), got take away Mexican, a six pack of cider and watched 30 Rock.
Sunday: Spent the morning in bed, alternating between snoozing and reading a cheesy self-help book I bought at the Lifeline Bookfest. Picked up my new outdoor setting from Super A-Mart, met with the lovely LuLu and embarked on a delightful lady date to Ikea. It was here that I turned scarlet after making eye contact with one of the few, potentially single, good looking men around my age while I was bouncing up and down in an armchair trying to decide if it would stand up to a good shag. The lady date then moved onto grocery shopping, where I also turned scarlet when I found myself holding a cucumber amidst some very dirty thoughts. After groceries, we barbecued some heart shaped meat patties on my 'Lady Q'. What an amazing day! And!! She gave me a balloon flower.
So what have I got to be smug about? Well, my weekend was one of those delightful single lady weekends with a good balance of 'me time' and time with treasured friends. The beauty of it? I don't have to wait for one day a year to have these sorts of weekends. I have them all the time.
Snap.
(I should point out that I do really love people in relationships, some of my best friends are in relationships. But if I don't get cranky on behalf of my fellow singletons, who will?)
(One of the few e-cards it would've been appropriate to send me)
I recently posted a text message conversation between my mother and I on My Bits (and Bobs). This conversation sparked great amusement in my eyes and a certain degree of shock amongst my co-workers. You see, my parents are doctors and for years I have lived with their assuming the worst of their delightful, mostly sweet and innocent daughter. This has been expressed in a number of ways, the most famous being the incident in which I discovered that they had put me specifically on a libido depressing version of the pill around the time I started going to parties. They told me it was for acne and it worked a treat, but when I went off the pill when I was 19, boy, I was I in for a surprise. One of my colleagues recently commented that all of my parent's vicarious trauma from their decades of practicing medicine must all be very neatly transferred to me, their eldest and only daughter. And you know what, I think she was right.
Now, frequent or occasional readers of this blog will know about my recent skin and hormone issues. Last night as I ventured down to the parental section of the house to forage for food, I bumped into my father. He took one look at my face and declared it perioral dermatitis (and if that's not a condition that will attract men, I don't know what will). So what does this mean? No face creams. No make-up. No sunscreen. I damn near fell over. Thrice! To my questions of "but, but, but, but???" my father commented that I should invest in a nice big hat. That I was just the kind of girl that would look good in a large hat. To which I replied that I do not like to wear hats as they mess up my hair.
In the onslaught of this new 'way of life', I was fortunate enough to scam a script for some antibiotics. This is a pretty big deal for dad as he does not usually prescribe to me. Something around not wanting to be responsible for giving me any medications that may kill me. Or something. As he wrote the script he commented that it would render the pill ineffective, which I blew off with the sweeping statement "bah, I'm not on the pill right now anyways". He sort of mumbled to himself and kept writing the script.
Well, you can imagine my surprise (and also my complete lack of it) this morning when I got out of the shower and spied the following on my bathroom floor . . .
Yes. That's right. Funny, shocking, and so my father. He'd slipped it under my door. When I confronted him around the issue this evening he claimed that he had slipped it under the door two or three days ago because he thought I would be interested, as a social worker. Ha! Although, in his defense it was quite an informative pamphlet and I will be taking it to work for information sharing. But he can protest all he wants – this is not the first piece of sexual health literature that has mysteriously found its way into my life in the last ten years. But then, my life is filled with these amusing tales of parental paranoia. I just thought I might be getting to the age where it lifted a little. Apparently not.
I was looking for a beach tent yesterday and I accidently stumbled upon my Christmas present. What makes this particularly embarrassing is that it was hidden where the presents are always hidden – it just did not occur to me that it would be there.
It is so boring that i am taking photos of my legs. Meanwhile, i think 2009 may be my Year of the Mini-skirt. Oh yeah.
I came across the following advertisement in my Facebook travels. Sheesh! Talk about exploiting people's vulnerabilities. What a bunch of a-holes.
As I have showered now, I feel much more emotionally ready to talk of this event.
It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining (underneath the clouds) and the aromatic scent of a lilly pond wafted across the Toowong/Mt Cootha Botanical Gardens. We had a great possie, underneath a large tree in the middle of the pond, it was shady and easy to spot. Great conversation, lots of lovely ladies, one man and an ungodly amount of fruit. There was watermelon, rock melon, honeydew melon, lychees, grapes, blackberries, strawberries, and just to round it all out, a fruit salad. There was chips, dips and champagne, and not in that particular order. There was a lazy turtle drifting around the side of the pond in hope of some of our amazing fruit. Kristy, a lovely lady, lovely to animals and the environment, vegan, commented on just how lovely this turtle was. She did not seem impressed when I pointed out that it had pond scum stuck to its whole body. I did however concede that it was quite nice how some fishies/tadpole creatures were constantly trying to eat the pond scum off the turtle.
The afternoon was going well until about 4pm. That was when the birds came to sit in the tree and go poop. And poop they did. Anyone would think it had been them who had just had a feast of fruit. After wiping down the trivial pursuit board for about the third time we knew our afternoon was ending. But the decision was finally made when the almighty dump occurred. A liquid bath that was so immense that it made a loud pattering noise and rebounded into all of our faces. After a rather impressive girly squeal, we decided that it was a sign. A sign to pack away our blankets and leftover fruit and go get ice cream. This was done with much gusto as we were all living in fear of the birds.
While I do recommend the Toowong/Mt Cootha Botanic Gardens as a lovely picnic spot, I do believe that the general public should be made aware of this tragic event, a great picnic sullied by wildlife. And while you could argue that its just nature getting its own back for us for clearing suburban land all around the area to build a large number of suburbs, I would prefer to think that these birds were inherently evil and are servants of the devil. Why else would you go poop on a trivial pursuit board?
Today, whilst buying three suitably kitsch Christmas Tree Ornaments at 30% off (A cockatoo, a dog and a Santa in board shorts), the salesman inquired as to whether or not these were for my children.
………….
I knew I was at that "So have ‘ya got a fella yet?" age, but the "Oh, are these for your children age?" ?!?!?
Not. Happy.
I really resent that my tax dollars are being spent producing media releases which rest solely on on party political agendas. I have been subscribing to government media releases for some time now as they are a good way of finding out exactly what it is our government is up to. Generally they’re ok, but then you get something like this little nugget.
And you should’ve seen some of the things they were saying about Kim before he got booted – they were positively vicious!