Getting Serviced.

While the very thought of it almost brings a small tear to my eye right now, this is not what you may have thought it was initially going to refer to. All of you who thought it was…get your minds out of the gutter (and grab mine while you’re down there please)?
It is literally about getting service, internet to be exact.

My internet service is usually a sketchy. It is a spin of the wheel each day when I hit that little power button, as to whether or not the lights will flash, mouse in the machine will wake up and start spinning on that treadmill, to bring the interwebs into my day or not. Most days he groggily puts on his runners, but at least twice a month, he gets as burnt out as I feel on a regular basis, and just stops to take a breather.
200330062-001It’s become a routine of sorts. Shut down, unplug, reset, wait ten, reboot…wait…nothing. Ring provider, lodge issue, listen to some foreign, barely legible call centre attendant tell me that the problem is on ‘my end’, pretend to do what they tell me to do and then wait for them to reset the system at ‘their end’. Wala.
I have been told to do everything from a simple reset, to taking the batteries out of the modem, rubbing my tummy whilst patting my head, Incan raindances, to turning off all power supply completely. Usually the problem is resolved with a series of instructions, lies and crossed fingers.

Yesterdays fault incorporated a new level of incompetence into the equation entirely. Not only was I told that I was not authorised to speak about the account, I had discussed with them on a regular basis previously (they had to call my ‘husband’ for authorisation), but also that the problem was with the outside signal and I would require a technician visit.
Being that it was 10am on a Friday, I run most of my business online and nobody would be available to visit until the following morning (to be very exact-between 7am-12), you can imagine how stoked I was at this prospect.

As the odds have it, if you are waiting impatiently for someone to arrive to fix something between 7am-12, they will undoubtedly arrive at 11.59am, however, being that my increasingly usual bedtime of 4am on Friday night occurred, this of course changes the game. At the bright early hour of 7.22am my phone rang (and to be honest, I’m amazed I heard it let alone answered it), with a horribly bright and cheery tech on the line to inform me he would be on my doorstep in 15 minutes. Yay.
images w

I vaguely remember hoping it was a dream, thinking of being somewhere else, with someone else, snuggling my Sparky and going back to sleep. My girls loudly reminded me that it was in fact, not a dream 15 minutes later when the guy knocked on the door. I don’t recall exactly what I was wearing when I answered the door, half asleep, wild hair…but it made him laugh at me. On second thought, maybe it was the fact that I told him my internet was in fact working again, and the call centre guy was a ‘total knob’, that made him twitch and chuckle maniacally? Apparently it was the third call he had been to already with the same description-what a fun filled morning he had had, and it was only 7.37am.
To his credit, he decided to check things out for me anyway, and came back down his ladder from the street pole with a very fried looking little piece of melted plastic that should have, at some stage, resembled circuitry that provided my internet signal.

The nice young man was very forgiving of the fact that, after a whopping less than 4 hours sleep, pre-coffee, I could barely string together a comprehensible sentence. He twitched slightly nervously as my little Cujo stuffed her nose through the deck porthole and snarled at him, not knowing that the prospect of an early morning visitor, was just making the tail at the other end (which he couldn’t see) wag. This one unfortunately didn’t bring me coffee, yet didn’t falter as he promised me that I would still have service, and someone else would appear unannounced mid-week to replace the second part of the problem, which he could not ‘jimmy free of the pole’ because it had ‘melted on’.

Hopefully this means that the monthly routine of phone calls, bitter resentment and internet abstinence has come to an end.
As for the other?… I’m hoping that will come to an end shortly too 😉 Fingers crossed all round I guess.
cafeinadosTime to face the day Kids. As I sit here with a hot espresso in hand, I can only hope everyone I encounter today is as ‘forgiving’ as my morning tech.


All the Ladies…


I read this today. It’s written by a woman named Janne Robinson. I love it, it created so many thoughts and feels…and I had to share it. Just so it didn’t get lost in nowhere.


This is for the women who don’t give a fuck.

“The women who are first to get naked,  howl at the moon and jump into the sea.

The women who drink too much whisky, stay up too late and have sex like they mean it.

The women who know they aren’t sluts because they enjoy sex, but human beings with a healthy sexual appetite.

The women who will ask you for what they need in bed.

This is for the women who seek relentless joy; the ones who know how to laugh with their whole souls.

The women who speak to strangers because they have no fear in their hearts.

The ones who wear “night make up” in the morning or don’t own mascara.

The women who know their worth, who plant their feet and roar in their brilliance

The women who aren’t afraid to tell a man to get the fuck out of her heart if he doesn’t honour her heart.

This is for the women who rock combat boots with frilly skirts.

The women who swear like truck drivers.

The women who hold the people who harass or wrong them with fierce accountability.

The women who flip gender norms and false limitations the bird and live to run successful companies giving “the man” a run for his name.

The ones who don’t find their success a compliment just because they have a vagina.

Women like Gloria Steinem who, when she was told, “We want a writer, not a woman. Go home,” kept writing anyway.

This is for the women who drink coffee at midnight and wine in the morning, and dare you to question it.

For the women who open doors for men and are confident enough to have doors opened for them.

Who use “no” to be in service for themselves.

Who don’t give a damn about pleasing the world, and do sweetly as they wish.

For the superheroes. The single Moms who work three jobs to make it. I salute your resilient, cape-flapping, ambitious selves.

This is for the women who throw down what they love, and don’t waste time following society’s pressures to exist behind a white picket fence.

The women who create wildly, unbalanced, ferociously and in a blur at times.

The women who know how to be busy and know how to plant their feet in the earth and get grounded.

These are the women I want around me.”

I love the confident strength this displays, but more than these being the women I want ‘around me’, I think I want a small part of each of these women inside of me. The courage, the resilience, the wild abandon, the ruthlessness, the lack of fear, the passion…
Maybe I do have some of these? I can only hope so. No matter how things turn out in the short term or the long run, whether perfectly well or horribly wrong, I have a feeling I may need them all.

Right now however, I have inspiration for my next painting…and maybe another tattoo?…so, gotta run!

Cheers Kidlets

Under repair…

images (21)So lately I’ve come to realise a few somethings about myself. It wasn’t a startling realisation by any means, and something that’s been lingering at the edge of my mind for along time, but always just off centre and out of the full line of sight.

And that is..I kinda like who I am. I like that I appreciate the weird things, the different people and quirky habits. I like a lot of things about myself that I never really gave much thought to, or didn’t like when I was younger. I like that I don’t always ‘fit in’ to clicks, and it doesn’t bother me that I just like the things I like, rather than the latest trends. I like that I can talk to people, and that people can talk openly to me without feeling  judged. I like that I have a vast array of ‘different’ friends and acquaintances, that for the most part mesh with each other. I like that I have both male and female friends, and a few solid friendships that have endured the test of time.
images (18)

However, there were a few things that I didn’t like, so, as previously mentioned, I figured it was time to fix them. The first and main one, being the shell that holds who I am. I say it that way, because it’s not so much about the way I ‘look’ as the way I feel about that. Over the past few years I stopped paying so much attention to my fitness level and waistline. I was just content doing other things, and stopped doing the maintenance I should have been, to stay the way I wanted be. It somehow didn’t seem as important any more. But…now it does, more than ever.

Things in this regard started going pear shaped (quite literally) when my primary mode of transport changed from feet to two wheels, then worsened when I got 4 wheels and a live-in chauffer. The second hit came when I started working from home, negating the basic need to leave my desk/studio for anything other than coffee. All up, a bad combination for physical fitness.
images (19)

Over the past weeks that has started to change. A lot. I am paying a lot more attention to what and when I am eating, making the time to include a combination workout of some sort into my routine without fail and drinking the dreaded H2O. The amazing thing about it is…I think it’s working. Who knew?
At the end of this week I am starting a 2 week detox, just to try and get everything working the way it should be, and optimize any possible result from all of the other stuff I am doing too. I don’t normally try ‘fad’ things, but all the reviews for this one look good (and actually real). So I’m thinking that even if it isn’t the be all and end all for my body, it will be positive for my mind.

I want to feel good about myself again. I want the confidence that I used to have back. I want to walk out the door wearing whatever the hell I want, instead of feeling like I have to hide my physical flaws. I want to be able to feel worthy of walking into a room at someone’s arm. I want more energy. I want my flexibility back. I want to feel attractive in a pair of jeans and hoody, in a short skirt, or without a stitch on. So I’m working on it… go me!

The second one is a spin-off from the first I guess. It’s about just being ‘more’ me. A bigger part of who I was, centred on independence and confidence, and along the way I lost some of that. I spent three years hating myself for something I lost, another year trying to figure out what it was I really wanted, and then 7 years being a part of a conjoined life, where I restricted myself from doing some of things I loved. Over the past 12 months I have been so worried and caught up in everyone else and everything happening around me, that I didn’t stop to take the time-out to just breathe and be. So now I am.

Yes, sure, life as it was ended, but in retrospect I just didn’t stop and let that sink in as much as I should have. I was so focused on something new starting, that I didn’t take everything into account. All I wanted was to just run far away and start all over again.
I guess I should be thankful that some people don’t share my misguided spontaneity and impatience.


In short, I have started taking care of myself, painting, riding motorcycles, meeting friends-old and new, actually enjoying just being alone every now and then. I’m spending time with my fur-girls, catching up on movies I haven’t seen, and a few that I have seen more times than I could count. I’m renewing my enthusiasm for my business and looking at new ideas that will get things rolling again too.

I’m just trying to maintain a healthy level of motivation in all aspects of life to balance things.
Trying to stay patient. There are better days ahead, and things to ‘fix’ the other broken parts.
Trying to stay positive. All the little things make a big difference.
Trying to stay understanding. Because unexpected things happen.
Trying to stay calm. As much as possible.

And the aim of all this? Well… it isn’t to be alone, or even to want to be, but to be able to be at peace with it while I am.  To be content with being my own company for a while.
Now if I can just manage to start getting some sleep at any time soon?…that would be a bonus.

‘Til the next time Kids.

Sick & tired…

images (15)

You know what I’m really sick of right now?…People. Pretty much all of them, with a few exceptions.

I’m sick of having to tiptoe around people with what I do and say. I’m sick of having to please other people and
tell them what they want to hear. I’m sick of pretty face-book status updates to placate the masses. I’m sick of posting
happy pictures, when they are a only a small glimpse of my day.

I’m sick of hearing about your awesome peachy lives, when I know in fact they are no better than mine, but you feel as compelled as everyone else to tell us they are. Why?… because nobody wants to see doom and gloom? Because it’s depressing you say? Well, life isn’t always a bed of roses…or have you forgotten that two weeks ago you were crying on MY shoulder?
I’m sick of relentless fucking hypocrites.

I’m sick of  putting so much effort into things and getting nothing in return, helping and getting no help. I’m sick of confiding, only to be ‘told’ what I should or shouldn’t be doing with my life, thoughts and feelings. Advice should be helpful not harmful. If you want to help, help, be constructive. If you want to preach, do it to someone else. I’m going to do whatever I want…figured that out yet?
Don’t talk down to me about the things that are important to me and then constantly ask me ‘why I defend them?’. If you don’t know why…then you clearly don’t know me as well as you think you do…


I’m sick of filtering stuff from people I don’t like because they still feel the need to be my virtual ‘friend’ when in reality we can’t stand each other. I’m sick of fickle, flighty people who lack substance and integrity. I’m sick of people breaking their word, or those who are only in your life when they need something from you. I’m sick of the attention getters, the fucking drama queens and the liars. I’m sick of people who can’t handle the truth in raw form. And the ones who say they can…but really can’t.

I’m sick of ‘attached’ people flirting with me, and propositioning me, because they need to fill some little void in their relationship and life. If it’s fucked, leave it or fix it yourself, don’t look to me for anything, because ‘news flash’… I’m not interested, and furthermore, you no longer have my respect. Just because I am single, in no way does that mean I am available, and much less to you.

I’m sick of seeing so many posts about horrible people who hurt animals, hurt themselves or want to hurt the planet. I’m sick of
seeing a world filled with money hungry, power hungry, hateful, despicable people who couldn’t give two shits about anyone or anything in ‘their way’.

I’m tired of having to constantly fight so hard for what I love and want, and for the things I believe in, which in most cases are just plain human decency. I’m sick of constantly waiting for the right times and places, and more days filled with uncertainty. I’m sick of feeling hurt and insignificant. I’m sick of being mentally exhausted and tired, so tired. I’m sick of hollow, achy, longing. I know some of these things are a necessary means to an end, self imposed-which I am willing to deal with, but are no easier to handle because of that simple fact.

Sleepless nights run into sleepless mornings, followed by days running on pure shots of caffeine and the thought that tomorrow will be better, if only a little. And the even more glorious thought that things will all be as they should be ‘some day’…but to get there, I have to make it through many more tomorrows.

Some days are just too much. Some days I’m seeing red and I just want to tell everyone to go and eat a fucking big bag of dicks! Some days I just I don’t have it in me to leave my dark little cave, because I likely would. Some days I could just go freakin’ postal…this day…yes…this day.


The only thing that gets me through this day is two amazing, furry little creatures who depend on me and love me without condition, loud music, plenty of uber-strong coffee, the fact that there are still some people worth the time… and solitude from the outside world. Only the determination to get through it, will provide the energy to complete that workout, make that food, fill that daily routine. This day.

The Universe is still a bitch and the world is still fucked up…but tomorrow will be a better day. I’ll make sure of it.


Rant over.


Lighting candles


It’s a birthday week here and I will be lighting some candles, but in memory and celebration of life, rather than festive celebration.
I lost my Mother 27 years ago to Cancer and my Father 8 months ago to a car accident. This coming week holds both of their birthdays, just four short days apart August 8th (Mum) and August 12th (Dad).

My Mother was a beautiful person, who made everyone around her smile. She was a Profesional doll and teddy bear maker, who loved her husband and children, and put her passion for life on display for all to see. She was a talented artist, sculptor and signwriter, and I am still convinced there was nothing she couldn’t have done if she really wanted to.
It only took 12 months for Cancer to take her away from us. I will never forgive it.
My Father was a myriad of things across his life-a Dam builder, a Milkman, a craft shop owner, a Truck driver and finally a Postman. He ruled the house with a stern but generally fair hand, and there was no doubt that he loved my Mother more than anything else, ever. He was also an accomplished leather worker, cane crafter and Potter. He loved to read, always with a book in hand, despite the fact that some of them were occasionally crappy Mills & Boon novels. He was a friend, an Uncle, a Brother, a Father, a Grandfather, and a stubborn old man who loved his dog and his solitude.
And I miss him being ‘there’.

IMG_5596  IMG_5592  IMG_5595

If there is something out there past this world, my only hope is that you have found each other again, and are together. It was obvious to all, that that is where you belong-together.
Happy birthday to you both with all my love. You will always remain in my fondest memories and my heart.



Downsizing to upsize

So, here’s my positive happy-joy thing for the day. I ordered a few things to wear a while ago on-line as a ‘treat’ incentive to keep working at getting back in shape. I went all out on the optimism and bought a size too small, knowing that I couldn’t wear them if I didn’t work hard enough to  errmm…*shrink* a little. I forgot all about them, but they turned up yesterday. Thinking it would push me extra hard to keep going, I decided to try them on and be disappointed when they didn’t fit…BUT they did! Yay me! Now the aim is to keep going and make them look even better 😉
PicMonkey Collage

A lot of people have said flattering things to me lately, and I figured I owed it to myself to be deserving of the things said. It’s not about feeling worthy of someone else or their opinion, but to feel like the compliments are justified to myself. You see, I had just got to this point over the past few years where I wasn’t looking at myself the way I should have been. I mean really looking…paying attention. Yes…paying attention to myself. To what I wanted to look like, to feel like and to want. I let myself get to a point where my self esteem was lower than I even realised, and I had stopped doing some of the things that make me…Me.

So I have started a few things, seriously. I have started working out properly, with on and off gym days, and at home. I have started consciously watching what I am eating and drinking (anyone who knows me, knows that when I include water in my diet, it means I’m serious). I have started writing priority lists of things that need to be done in the days, and also ‘giving myself’ time to indulge in hobbies and downtime at nights.
I went and got a new tattoo. I have wanted this one for a while, and it felt right, as did the timing. It, like all my others,  is something I love and believe in undoubtedly. Your past, while it does change your character, shouldn’t define or determine your future.

I have given myself permission to have crap days and good days, and feel bad about the things that aren’t good, but also to feel positive about things that are. Permission to make my own choices and decisions for my life. Permission to listen to advice without taking it. Permission to hope, and hold onto the things I love without guilt. Permission to let go of past hurts and look forward.
Also, I’m working on that patience thing that everyone calls a virtue? Because some of the best things just take time and understanding, whether you want them to or not.

It hasn’t been very long, but I’m starting to see the right kind of results. I’m waking up (when I actually sleep) feeling better about the day ahead, better about the way I look (slowly), and better about the things ahead of me. I’m finding hope and brightness in making some plans and looking forward to them. I’m finding inspiration in necessity, like cramming for a test. Except the test is the rest of my life, and I want the result to be A+.

I hope you all have days where you wake up and feel like things will get better. Because this is what we have, the ‘here and now’, as dark and complicated as it might seem.
We all owe it to ourselves to enjoy life and give ourselves hope for the future. We owe it to ourselves to be honest and not give up on the things we love and want. We owe it to ourselves not to just exist, but to live.

efe104eceb983013ee1a1214be76e195 bf5607470aed369618e9823377e646a5e5f547c097179fc985e04511680a594d