Saturday, March 22, 2008

A new crusade

I have decided that it is time for a new crusade. Not like the old ones where knights charged across Europe to smite enemies and find the Holy Grail. This is one of the new age - and the object of my ire is (dramatic pause) HIPSTERS. Yes, that's right folks, I am officially done with this trouser style. I rank them below some of the worst fashion faux pas of the modern age - including bubble skirts, bubble gum jeans, tube skirts and puffy pirate shirts (what can I say, I was a child of the eighties). In the last 3 years I have seen more butt cleavage than any person should have to see in their lifetime and I am DONE. Last night at the rugby union at a particularly exciting moment, most people in the crowd leapt to their feet. The girl in front of us was one of them and holy jesus, I could have emptied all of the spare change from my purse, plus a packet of butter menthols and thrown in a yo yo in the space that"opened up" before me when her pants headed south. Am officially proud to say I have turned into my nanna and had to fight every urge in my body to lean forward, pull up her duds and tell her that it was not a good look befitting a young lady. Perk! Hipsters, in all shape and forms, should be banned if there is even a remote chance that people around you are going to get a good look at your g-bangers in a public place. If you are not allowed to wear thongs, tracksuit pants or flannel shirts into a bar, why is it suddenly ok for most of your arse to be out on display every time you lift your arms above chest level or sit down??? Also, don't tell me that it is comfortable - the number of times I have watched girls walking along and having to hitch at their duds every five steps has happened so often now that I think it is normal. I was wondering out loud the other day to my husband if anyone had yet done a study into the increase of skin cancer of the butt crack as not too many people seem to be remembering to "slip, slop, slap" the old sunscreen down there. I reckon now if the time to get into specialising in treating it - in 10 years it could be big business.
Anyway, I have made my declaration, so now I will take my first step by lying on my lounge and drinking wine. The best possible attack. Also, as a quick postscript, if the blokes out there could also give the trousers a hitch so I don't have to check if mum ironed your boxer shorts, that would be just grand. Thanks.

Friday, March 21, 2008

The questions people just don't ask - until now

Whilst on the quest to lose weight, get fit, save the world from hunger and fathoming why they make hipsters aka "low rise" jeans in sizes above 10, there are times when I have to answer various questions. Mot of them I pose to myself, you know, along the lines of "why is there air?", "why does rain fall down and not up?" and "Why does that guy think that me being able to see his jeans hanging around his crotch and his Pepe le Pew boxer shorts is a turn on?", sometimes I have to answer questions that people actually pose to me. I got some absolute rippers a few weeks ago and thought I'd put them (and my replies up here) so no one else as to answer them. Now, I realise that when you have a friend that is obese, you want o help them and make sure that they are ok. I also realise that there are questions that you may want to ask but know you never should. Now, thanks to a person who I work with that has no idea about social conventions, people's feelings or has not read 'topics NOT to bring up around the tea table" here are some answers that brings new meaning to "chewing the fat".
Q. Do you enjoy being fat?
A. Love it!!!!!!! Wouldn't have it any other way!!!!! There is no greater joy in the world than having your thighs rub together so much that they need two litres of sorbolene on them to ensure that they do not spontaneously combust when you walk. This gets the rating of "Question most likely to get you killed because it is sooooooo stupid". No one likes being fat and anyone who says they do is either delusional or have a very different relationship with their body. This is not fat bashing by the way. It's just the plain truth - carrying extra weight around is about as much fun as having a Brazilian wax done by local butcher's apprentice after he's had a night out on the tiles. You cannot get clothes to fit, you start to dislike or even hate your body because it is socially unacceptable to be fat and it starts to totally dominate your life. None of these are on my "woo hoo, sign me up for double helping of THAT" list.
Q. Why don't fat people just lose weight? It's not that hard.
A. Oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks for pointing that out!!! My life is changed forever you STUPID NOB!!!!!!!!! The main reason why it is so farking hard to lose weight is that most of the changes you have to make are mental, not physical. The same way changing from being a STUPID NOB to PERSON WHO THINKS BEFORE OPENING MOUTH is so hard - for every unit of physical effort you put in, about 10 units of mental energy have to be used as well. Very hard and let's face it, you to end to have a not so great opinion of yourself when you've stacked on the kilos.
Q. Does being fat ever depress you?
A. Can't you tell I am the most well adjusted, happy, balanced and together person on the planet? All of the little birdies are singing in my garden of happiness and my ocean of calm is a deep, calming blue. Is the sarcasm coming through at all? There are day when the fact that you are fat does not bother you and there are others when it sucks balls. This will, on the odd occasion, get you down.

Hope this has helped answer those questions you may have always wondered about. If you ever want to spark an interesting tea room conversation at work, bring it up with Helga (the lady who looks like she used to do shot put for East Germany) one day over coffee. Only after you have established she can't hurt you. Good luck.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

One eyed snakes and showbags

Those of you that are not living under a rock somewhere will be familiar with the dread that fills you when the local carnival/show rolls into town. The big one here is called "The Royal Canberra Show" and every parent within a 200km radius of Canberra is filled with dread when the ads start appearing on TV. You know when it starts because the relative calm of your Saturday morning is suddenly shattered by small children rushing in to interrupt your first cup of coffee to breathlessly announce in REALLY LOUD VOICES that the miracle of consumerism is about to arrive - SHOW BAGS!!!!!!!!!! Yes, those wonderful plastic bags filled with the crap the makers of "Dora the Explorer", "My Little Pony" and the batman franchise have not been able to shift for the last 5 Christmases have finally been packed into plastic carry bags that can then be flogged for vastly inflated prices at "The Show"!!!! Yaya!!!!!!! This year my sister was brave enough to volunteer to take our eldest daughter all by herself so Grace could get a break from all of the testosterone currently swarming through our house (my sister in law is living with us with her two boys, but that's a whole other post). Grace toddled off with my sister (who, I should point out, DOES NOT have children) to enjoy the delights of the show. The highlight of the night was probably when Grace purchased her "Snakes alive" showbag (lollies) and announced in a nice loud voice "Auntie Kate, guess what? There's a one eyed snake in my show bag!!!!". Kate nearly spat out the coffee she was drinking and (once she established that it was a toy snake missing an eye and not that Grace had inadvertently bought the 18+ "Norks ahoy" showbag) commented that Grace might want to keep that fact to herself, as it might cause a riot in the showbag pavilion if people thought one eyed snakes were being given away in showbags. You might think this was the best quote from the whole weekend, but I have to say my husband manage to top it when we took the boys along on the Sunday. Cameron got some kind of toy on a leash, which he proceeded to drag around the show, tripping up people for a good two hours. Eventually Tim just snapped after Cam tripped over it for the 50th time and shouted "Cameron, for god's sake, get that thing out from between your legs and put it over your shoulder!!!!!". Had to lean against nearby camel ride ticket sales booth whilst I laughed my arse off. I love the show.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Back from the black

Hi all. I know, you've been pining, wondering where on earth I was, filing missing persons reports etc. Well, rather a lot has been going on since January, not the least being I have been really struggling with a depression "episode" (makes it sound like a re-run of Neighbours) which has taken some time to kick. That kind of sucked and has required a fair bit of down time and an increase in medication to help pull me away from the company of "the black dog". Am feeling heaps better and am looking forward to rejoining the land of the normal people. Anyway, I have written a few posts but never got around to actually posting them, so they'll go up over the next few days.