Let's talk communicating...

Way, way back in the early 90s, I did a Bachelor of Arts in Communications at the University of Canberra and while I never went on to have a career in communications, I have found a lot of what I learned during those years very helpful.

Over the years I've observed how people communicate with one another and one thing I've noticed is that communication despite - or perhaps because of the deep penetration of technology - has become more garbled.

Many humans on the planet have had to learn to communicate via text. This is not a new phenomenon, but the speed at which we communicate with one another via text certainly is new. Text communications in this day and age are almost instantaneous.

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I know how easy it is to become swept up in an emotional tsunami while operating technology - before I have a chance to reconsider my response, I've typed (and I touch-type at 90 words per minute) and sent my raw emotions to another person - often to many other people and with no real control over how quickly my communications are further disseminated to others.

That is a lot of responsibility.

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However, it gets worse because text lacks a form of communication which is essential to humans as it is with all social creatures. Text communications lack non-verbal cues. They lack tone of voice, they lack those teensy tiny muscle movements which differentiate a smile from a smirk, or a frown from confusion.

We try to compensate by using smilies, but smilies fall far too short of the mark most of the time and leave a gap for interpretation as wide as the Atlantic Ocean.

Another phenomenon I've observed is a response to all this ambiguity - well, actually I've observed two responses...

First, there is the response of a well guarded opinion. Many people are too afraid to say what they think, what their opinion is incase it is wilfully misconstrued by people all too willing to take the greatest possible advantage of the non-verbal gaps in text communications.

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Second, and this is what I want to highlight, there are many who are quite happy to say or write how they feel, even if it is sheltered by ambiguity and then use that ambiguity to protect themselves when others take offence to their words or catch on that they have just been made the butt of a joke they were not supposed to be privy to.

I have often heard the words, 'That was not what I meant.' or 'That was not my intention.' from people who wish to redirect blame for failed communications.

It used to be, in conversation, that the responsibility for good communications lay both with the disseminator of the communication and the recipient. Both had responsibilities when communicating. The disseminator had responsibility to be clear and concise and to choose their words carefully to impart the information they wished to communicate. The recipient's responsibility lay in listening attentively and receiving the information as impartially as they could.

With so much of modern communications being recorded, either in text or other forms of audio and visual media, there is consequently less responsibility on the recipient and more on the disseminator.

I argue this because the recipient need not listen carefully at the time of the initial communication because they can always refer back to the communication and either validate their perceived reception or have it corrected.

Therefore the onus on the disseminator to be clear and concise in their communication becomes greater as that communication can so readily be recalled in its original condition (because there are no non-verbals to be lost in recall).

When you communicate with people via the media (and by media I'm including the internet), the onus is on your to say what you mean and mean what you say. Successful people are masterful communicators. They make their intended impression and because of the endurance of the written and recorded word, that impression sticks around for a long time.

Yeah, actually, mostly... it is!
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Choose your words carefully, make them work for you and have the impact you intend them to have... This skill is becoming ever more crucial in this age of technology!

How Sif Got Her Groove Back...

I wasn't a very happy Sif the other night...

It's easy to get down when you have high hopes and they are not realised.

That said, there is nothing to gain (except momentary attention from good friends and reassurances that people do care) from dwelling on what has not materialised.

What do you do when you're feeling very, very low?

Me, I sing. I sing daggy songs to the power of 10!

So, yesterday I cocooned myself in my bedroom and spent the day listening to 80s music on the radio, surfing the net on my iPad and iPhone and singing...

I wasn't alone...

Erik and the GOM did come in and chat as well, though I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos of them as well.

I also hung up and placed a couple of pieces I've inherited from mum in the wake of my parents downsizing... These reminded me of my place in history through my connections with the past...

This blanket, which I hung on my bedroom wall, was hand stitched by my mother's father's mother.

The story goes that my great grandmother (Langamma Síta) went up to an attic in a farm in Iceland back in 1930 or so and found a section of a blanket which had a quarter of this pattern woven into it. There was some kind of indication (suddenly I can't remember if it was a written note or a date woven into the blanket) which dated the original woven blanket back to 1831 (so it was already 110 years old when she found it).

Langamma Síta took the section of blanket and mirrored the pattern four ways and then sewed that pattern onto the blanket now hanging in my bedroom. At the bottom of the blanket she sewed in the date it was originally woven; 1831 and at the top she put the date at which she duplicated it; 1941... So, now this blanket is 71 years old and the pattern is at least 181 years old. Some of the colour has faded; there is a fair bit of blue which can't be seen in this photo (mind you, my bedroom walls are also green, not cream).

I found a home for the fairy castle...

My mum made this castle one day while standing in the Ada Ryan Gardens in Whyalla way back in the very early 80s. I remember that day so well. There was some sort of exhibit of local potters and others doing courses at the TAFE in town (I think). My mum - who had been studying pottery there for a while was doing a live sculpture and decided to make this castle - Rapunzel's Castle, I think it was, or possibly Sleeping Beauty's Castle, I'm not sure now - and I remember the children crowding around her and her asking them what she should do, and following their suggestion (to some degree, at least).  The castle used to have copper flag staffs coming out of each turret and flags attached, but they've since gone missing (though I plan to replace them now).

As a little girl I used to love to run my fingers along the winding path and imagine the people who lived in that tiny castle...

I listened and sang loudly to this song... Yes, I did!



Yes, when I'm down, nothing brings me back up like belting out a daggy song in a key I can comfortably manage...

So, old family ties, hanging out with my kids and singing daggy songs, those are how I got my groove back...  What works for you?

Why I prefer KRudd...

My twitter stream is full of KRudd hating. People think he's smug and a whiner. I hear the majority of Australian's would still prefer him, but I don't have those people on my twitter stream.

I don't fancy myself any kind of politically aware person. What I do fancy myself is a keen observer of people, of personalities, of what motivates people. As a writer, I'm always watching people and over the years I've discovered I have a very good bullshit radar.

Twenty months ago, Julia Gillard was manipulated through pride into the position of deposing Kevin Rudd. I will not go as far as to say she was a complete innocent in the matter - there is no doubt in my mind that Julia is a woman with a sharp mind.

At the time my twitter stream was full of 'Go Julia! Finally a woman Prime Minister! KRudd didn't deliver, Julia will!'

In the intervening months I've seen much disappointment over Julia's failure to deliver things she never promised in the first place (gay marriage for one). There have been quite a few people who have said perhaps Kevin would do better...

So now we have the big upheaval of another caucus vote and questions over who will lead the Labor party as of Monday. I'm not here to say who it will be. I know Rudd doesn't have the numbers in the caucus despite polls of the people suggesting he is their preferred Prime Minister (and even then there are big questions about how accurate these polls are - they certainly don't reflect my left-leaning twitter stream, as I say)...

All I can say is who I would prefer, and why.

I would prefer Kevin and this why...

Yes, he is smug. The man can't keep that smirk of his face, he is loving the attention, he is loving the people power, he is loving that finally he is making Julia and her backers nervous. He is a bitter man and has been for a while.

smug kevin

The thing is, I'm bitter, too, so I get how he feels. I think, quite possibly, a lot of Australian's a bitter at the moment.

The other thing Australian's are is supporters of the underdog. By deposing Rudd after he signed the Kyoto agreement, after he apologised to the Stolen Generation, the faceless men created a sympathetic underdog - and one who holds grudges. They created their own worst enemy.

I have had ideals and wanted to make great changes and sometimes made mistakes and been judged far too harshly and far too prematurely, only to be proven right down the track, when the shit has hit the fan.

I get how he feels.

Meanwhile, Julia is PR managed to the hilt. I'm sure she had very strong emotions on many topics but she is a master of the poker face and the impassive mask and I don't trust that - she is a politician, after all.

Poker-face Julia

Rudd is no god, he is no saviour, he is no saint. However, he is quite transparent in his motivations and his feelings and so he is a known quantity.

Julia is much more a person to play her cards close to her chest.

Actually, the fact she has come out and personally attacked KRudd has lessened my dislike and mistrust of her because now she's showing all I have sensed lay beneath the mask. Still, it's too little emotion, too late.

I don't necessarily want a Prime Minister who is completely rational. Rationalism lacks humanity. Humanity is passionate and far from flawless.

KRudd is not cuddly and doesn't give me the warm-fuzzies. I wouldn't have him as a friend because he seems like a man who's single focus is for self-actualisation. However, there isn't much that is hidden about him and he has the ability to be humble and to admit getting things wrong, even if it is a rare occurrence. Whereas Julia believes in her own sanity and rationality - a character trait I cannot fully trust.

In the end, if Julia holds her position on Monday, I believe she will probably lead Labor to defeat. Labor will elect a new Opposition Leader and Kevin will be waiting in the wings. Ultimately, he has nothing to lose at this point and to some degree he can thank the faceless men for helping him become the underdog and creating the perfect 'what if...' situation.

No one.

2.25am and I can't sleep. Earlier today my parents left for home after an epic 10 days.

Epic because for a week of that the Grumpy Old Man was visiting them in Adelaide and getting in as much automatic driving as possible before his test. Epic because at the same time my parents were putting their house on the market after making the huge decision to simplify and downsize their life and become debt free and footloose as well.

Epic because they sold their house in record time, for the price they wanted, and bought their next home within two days (to be ready in July).

Epic because they have to move out of their home in three weeks time following an extremely short settlement time.

Epic because the Grumpy Old Man had yet another driving test to get through.

He did his driving test today - well, yesterday, Friday. If I tell you in wasn't straight forward, you'll be pretty much not surprised, right? On Thursday afternoon, after spending most of the day out of the house buying my parents new caravan (did I mention they're becoming grey nomads - although a little less of the nomad bit for the first couple of years before mum actually can retire), we came home to discover a message on the answering machine.

The message was from VicRoads and was for the GOM informing him they'd just discovered that his hazard perception test papers had lapsed and he'd need to take the hazard perception test again before he could take his licence test.

My parents were only able to stay until today because even though they've sold the house, final signing of contracts is on hold until pest and building inspections clear the house for the new owner, so there is another open for inspection scheduled for Sunday. So, having to schedule a hazard perception test first suggested the GOM would not be able to take his licence test at the time we'd arranged and might have to rebook for the earliest opening in 7-8 weeks time.

This stressed us all just a little.

The Grumpy Old Man called VicRoads and was told they could squeeze him in for the hazard perception test just before his licence test. Instead of just doing one test, he would now be doing two.

Test day... The boys went off to school and mum and I took Ari off to Forest Hill shopping centre to keep our minds off the tests - that didn't actually work so well and even remembering the day makes my stomach turn with anxiety.

We wondered around, did a bit of retail therapy (work clothes for mum and she bought Ari and I a present each), tried to have some lunch - my stomach was too unsettled to eat... It was almost time to head home on the bus to pick up the boys and I felt the vibration of the phone in my bag.

The Grumpy Old Man had left a message for me to call him back.

I did and s-dad answered the phone because the Grumpy Old Man was driving them home, for a microsecond I felt excitement - he got it! He got his licence, I thought...

No, he didn't.

Sadly, he got pinged for - get this - speeding. Of course, I didn't even believe that. The Grumpy Old Man is too cautious to speed, there is no way he could have been speeding, if anything he tends to drive too slowly.

Well, I was half right. He was doing 65 in what he believed to be a 70. Unfortunately, he believed wrongly - it was a 60 zone. That was his first critical error.

His second was that he was approaching a zebra crossing with lights, he was slowing in case it changed from green to red, and he once he was within about 20 feet of the crossing and it hadn't changed yet, he thought he would be right, but then it changed, he breaked as gently as he could, but unfortunately his tires were on the white line. Second critical error and he failed.

We're gutted. 7 was not our lucky number, after all...

Next test is scheduled but is two months away.

No car means no work. No work means no money. (yes, I know some of you don't believe that, or have a millions ideas about what you think he could be doing if he really wanted to earn some money...  Don't bother to suggest them, we've considered them all already. Believe me, we do not want to be in this position)

Life feels pretty unfair at the moment.

Possibly we're just bad, lazy, heathens who are only getting what we deserve for our wayward ways. Possibly if we worked harder and believed in the right gods and gave more to charity things would start to go our way and the Grumpy Old Man would get his licence and get a job and I would get a job and we'd buy a car and save for a deposit on a house. Possibly the answer is staring us in the face. I don't know. I really don't. I feel like we follow the rules (I so, so, so badly want to get a dog right now and the tenants agreement be damned, but that would be wrong, right?) and feel like we try to be conscientious and good people. I feel like we try to keep our chins up and just keep swimming and having faith that it will all work out and I feel like right now the powers that be are flipping up a great big bird.

I feel angry and manipulated by reality.

I feel emotionally and physically exhausted.

I feel like what is the point? What exactly is the point of all of this, of struggling, of having faith in anything or anyone, of trying to play the system according to everyone's stated rules when those rules don't guarantee the desired outcome.

I want to feel safe. I really need to feel safe. I haven't felt safe in a very, very long time.

I'm sorry that this post is so dark, I'm in a very dark place. Sometimes, I see some light and I run towards it. I run as fast as I can but it doesn't seem to get any closer and sometimes - like right now - it disappears completely.

Some people say surrender, let go. I have. I have let go completely, but the falling never stops. The roaring of the wind as it soars past me in the darkness is frightening and deafening and there is no one there to catch me. No one.

I appreciate all the help the Grumpy Old Man's parents have given us over the years, and all the help my parents have given us (twice already this year they've driven interstate so the GOM could practice in and drive their car during his driving test). I am in no way saying that our families have not helped us. Unfortunately, they can't influence potential employers or testers, so they can't catch us in that sense. I'm not angry with or ungrateful of our families.

I'm angry because I don't actually believe we're lazy or bad or faithless, and we're raised to believe that if we do the right thing and are good and play by the rules and have faith that life will go our way - or at least be balanced in how much it does and doesn't go our way. Yet here we are in our 40s and 50s and we can't get a foothold. We don't expect to be handed life on a platter but we have always thought we'd be met halfway for our blood, sweat and tears. I'm beginning to suspect there is no one out there to meet us half way.

Maybe this is just the exhaustion speaking. I'll probably regret posting this in the morning - I'm going to post it anyway for honesty sake. Maybe one day I'll read this post and laugh at how blind I was.

Uptight and anxious parenting...

What I should be doing right now...

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What I have been doing instead...

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Obviously, that's not me browsing the net - she's far too perky and no where near myopic enough - she doesn't have the haggard look of a bedraggled hausfrau, like me...

Anyway, on my browsing travels a few things I've read have started to tangle up with one another in my brain and got me thinking about parenting and parenting styles and all the stuff that worries parents...

First I saw this article which suggests that even having the TV on in the background around children (who are not actively watching the set) is detrimental to their development. So, when Australian parents are recommended to have no television for children under two, that means that while the child is awake, the television simply should not be on. One hour a day for 2-12 or two hours a day for 12-18 year olds means the same for the parents while those children are awake. Think about how long your average 16 year old is awake and do the math...

Television viewing is just one way in which parents can damage their children. Obviously processed foods, particularly fast foods, come to mind. Balancing not get enough sun with getting too much sun is another juggling act of parenting. The list goes on, and this is just for your average run-of-the-mill non-religious and non-idealistic parent.

Then I saw these fun videos...

...and...



I've witnessed most of these scenarios in my parenting life - and said a lot of these things myself! Yes, I've been totally crunchy. Now that the kids don't breastfed, co-sleep or require assistance getting about in an efficient manner, I do less visible crunchy stuff... But yep, for the idealistic parent, life can be pretty anxiety inducing.

Having gained almost 13 years of parenting experience now, the only thing I regret about my choices is heaping so much pressure on myself to be The Best Parent™. Living in fear of damaging my children may have damaged my children...

Okay, that's an overstatement, but I do wonder if all the anxiety about what they eat, what they watch, what they play with and come in contact with physically, mentally or spiritually isn't a new crisis we modern day parents are heaping on our children...

Remember how we all used to um-ahhhh! about 'olden day parents' who whipped their children with sapling branches because the child spoke out of turn and the parent was deathly afraid the child would be ruined if left to believe that was okay?

Yes, well, I have to wonder if 'having a talk' with your three year old because she 'harmed' your one year old by calling her baby brother a 'good boy' isn't akin to whipping a child for speaking out of turn.

In our grand quest to bring up Completely Whole Children™, might we not be causing different kinds of damage by ostracising them from society into sub-cultures where they can only play with 'natural, organic materials' and eat 'natural, organic foods they have grown or killed themselves'. Is not letting a child see their grandparent because the grandparent prefers to use disposable nappies when caring for the child, or the grandparent lets slip the odd bit of praise taking 'good parenting' too far?

Are our children our own little sociological experiments where we set out to prove that our way will lead to 'better, stronger, more individual people'?

Do children benefit from parents who take controlling their child's environment into obsession territory?

Are we perhaps raising anxious children who fear fuming plastics, buying anything new, chucking paper in the 'regular bin instead of the recycling', who baulk at food outside their own home incase it contains 'poison' (additives/preservative/pesticides), who can't play with the kid they met at the park because he has a toy gun and he's wearing a tee shirt with a cartoon character on it!

Anxiety is rampant in our society, new disorders, such as hoarding, are being recognised every year. We try to avoid medicating our children when they are small, but are we setting them up to need medicating in adulthood?

Are you an anxious parent?

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Things My First Encounter With Solo Parenting Has Taught Me...

The Grumpy Old Man comes home late tomorrow night, a few hours short of a whole week parenting on my own.

I know I'm not the first woman to parent on her own. I know I'm not the first woman with four children to parent on her own. I know I'm not the first woman with low vision and ADHD to parent four children on her own for [only] a week.

But I know this has been a first for me. It's been a steep learning curve, and I've learned quite a bit from this exercise. So, I thought today I'd reflect on what I'd learned...

#1 I rely on The Grumpy Old Man quite a lot, and I don't mean to do stuff like take out the rubbish or even get up in the morning and get them ready for school (though, he does do that and bless his little cotton socks for it, because quite frankly homeschooling has been at the forefront of my early morning thoughts for many days now).

No, I rely on him emotionally. He's my sounding board for all the billions of thoughts that hustle for room in my brain box every day, and without that sounding board, I'm feel as if my head is crammed with stuff I just can't let go off because I haven't had a chance to talk-it-out. Yes, I have learned I'm a four year old.

#2 Sleeping on my own in a house full of kids isn't as scary as it used to be. Before this week, I was a big old scaredy cat when it came to being alone at night with the kids. Being alone in a house at night doesn't worry me - it's the being responsible for kids bit. Suddenly, having had kids, I worry that if there was an intruder, that person might get to the kids and I wouldn't be able to do much to stop it. Also, if there was a fire, could I manage to get four children out of the house safely on my own? I didn't used to be able to sleep much when the Grumpy Old Man spent nights elsewhere, but a week on my own has cured me of that!

#3 A lot of stuff doesn't change at all. My world hasn't been turned upside down per se. It's more like a slight tilt which can cause dizziness at times, but mostly I'm fairly well adjusted...

#4 Now, this may just be because I don't drive and parents doing a solo act who do drive might have a different experience, but I can't speak for them... When your child has a sore throat and it's getting dark outside and you don't have anything in the house to relieve their pain, it sucks to be a solo parent because there is simply nothing you can do about it. You're it when it comes to making sure you have everything you need.

I'm lucky in this regard, because my eldest is old enough to help out - this morning he had to run up to the servo to get milk because even though I went to the shops yesterday, I didn't get milk and so this morning we found ourselves short. Usually, there is someone to watch the kids while someone else goes and gets stuff, but when there is only one adult it pays to be psychic.

#5 Solo-parenting is a lonely business. Maybe not so much for people with a lot of people in their lives, but I've been so lonely this week I can't even begin to describe it. With four children there is always someone to talk to, but the conversations at always at their level and there is a lot children don't get or don't need to know.

#6 I still hate cooking.

#7 The house is a lot cleaner. I've always had this thing about not liking being watched while cleaning, so I'm not inclined to clean much with the Grumpy Old Man around the house most of the time. I do what is absolutely necessary, but leave the rest a lot of the time. With him gone though, I've become a little obsessed with getting this house clean. Maybe he should go away for a week more often...

#8 It is true what they say about the children of solo parents growing up faster because they take on responsibility earlier. This week I've relied on the older boys to do more. They've always been very capable and the GOM and I are not the kind of parents who molly-coddle out kids at all; they've always had responsibilities according to their capabilities. Even so, this morning I sent Erik and Luey off to school in charge of Bryn. I was always going to do it this year. They only have to walk a couple of hundred metres and cross three fairly quiet suburban roads (the one at the school is busiest but they've crossed it a million times). The only thing that was holding me back so far this year is that old saying, 'Two's company, three's a crowd' - if it was just Erik and Bryn or just Luey and Bryn it would be no issue, but sometimes the three of them together can lead to disputes and in that situation Bryn can become unreasonable. However, this morning I found myself sending them off on their own all the same because I'm not feeling 100%.

#9 Being the only person in charge evokes Murphy's Law. That power cable to the house that has been working fine for 80 years will suddenly blow up the very first day you're the only responsible adult in the house...

#10 I can parent on my own. I can deal with a crisis; such as no electricity at night and no transport or place to go which does have electricity. I can get by without another adult to share the load.  I can  get up every morning and get them ready for school and keep the house clean, and cook dinner every night, and answer every one of the billion questions that come out of the kids every day, and supervise homework, and organise play dates and so on and so forth. I can do it all on my own with four kids, no car, low vision and ADHD - but I'm ever so grateful that tomorrow night the Grumpy Old Man will return and share the load. I know that in the blink of an eye I could become a solo parent and that the future is never guaranteed, but I know that I sincerely hope that never happens!

My hat is off to all the parents doing it on their own out there!

Why I hate carpet...

I hate carpet. I hate it with a passion!

The Grumpy Old Man - despite having moderate asthma and an allergy to dust mites, is quite fond of carpet. He says it keeps his feet warm. The fact he wears Grumpy Old Man Slippers ™ around the house which are probably more likely source of his cozy feet seems to go completely over his head.

Grumpy Old Man Slippers ™

The best thing about our previous house was that it had very little in the way of carpet...

I loved it for that. The Grumpy Old Man hated it. He said this was because every footfall in the house would echo and the constant clattering of little feet drove him to the edge on a daily basis.

He was overjoyed when we moved to this house with all its carpet throughout. I hate the carpet here, it's extremely ugly, and by saying that I'm actually being very generous. It's those carpet tiles that were so popular in the 60s, but which peel up from the floor, and then the edges curl and fray. In this house, the peeling, curling and fraying is so bad no one would rent the place until we came along - and I only agreed to rent this place because I decided to get off-cuts of carpet overlocked to fit most to the lounge room and the boys' room.

The extremely ugly carpet in our house and my floor covering
solutions - such as they are...

When we eventually buy, I want something like what my mum has in her house...

My parents have been extremely clever with their flooring choices. Not only is the wood beautiful, but they had it underlaid with the insulation that usually goes between second storey floors and the ceiling below to reduce sound. The insulation is thinner that standard underlay, but twice as dense. So, their gorgeous wood floors don't echo or clatter!

Getting back to why I loathe carpet!

With kids, carpet just gets grubby. There is just no avoiding it... In one house we did have a rather good carpet with regard to hiding kiddie spills... Axminster...

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While ours wasn't the same colour or design at the one pictured above, it had pretty much the same overwhelming visual effect and often visitors would leave our house complaining of dizziness... 

But it hid everything...

For regular run-of-the-mill relatively plain carpet though, there is no avoiding it becoming grubby when you have a house full of kids. Actually, if I'm really, really honest, we adults aren't as accomplished as we'd like to think when it comes to transporting cups of coffee and tea from the kitchen to the living room, either.

There are constant spills and day-to-day dirt.

I'm implementing a shoe free zone as off this afternoon after spending the morning cleaning the lounge room carpet yet again...

I got stuck into the carpet with this today...

The carpet in the living room really needs a professional clean, but as it is carpet on top of carpet, I'm wary about getting a steam cleaner in. Instead, every few months I try a new carpet stain remover. Always with the same soul-destroying hope followed by disappointment results...

Here are a couple of before an afters...

These spots in front of the fire place mostly came out...

The darkest spots have lifted but the shadows remain...

Oh, and overlocked cut-offs were a great idea, but we've discovered they stretch and buckle with wear (because they're not fixed to the floor), creating ugly and irritating trip hazards.

I am absolutely, positively not going to have carpets in my next house! I hate them!

Where do you stand on carpet versus floorboards?

Whoa, my blog's become a dead zone...

Hello? Is anyone out there? Hello?

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I think I've been very boring off late...

Either that, or everyone is having a spectacular life - are you having a spectacular life? Tell me about it! No, seriously, I want to know - comment to your hearts content about your spectacular life, pleeeeease!

You see, I just realised something... The Grumpy Old Man, as grumpy and old as he is, well, he fills a very important need in me which is currently (for the past 50 odd hours) not been filled. No, not that, put your manners back in...

He's the constant adult voice in my life.

It's taken about 50 hours for me to really begin to miss not having grown up conversations. Conversations which don't centre around axes, remotes, farts or who's turn it is to clean up the bedroom/livingroom/kitchen...

This is about when Facebook and Twitter should really be coming into their own, but for some reason they just aren't doing it for me. I can't quite managed an in to conversations already in progress and I've discovered - to my horror - that I have absolutely nothing interesting to say. And by nothing interesting, I mean, if someone else posted my thoughts, I'd probably unfollow them out of sheer boredom.

Oh, the humanity!

When did I get so boring?

I keep thinking that if I can blog something fascinating, something that really inspires people or gets them thinking... Hell, if I could even get people debating... Then I might solve this little problem of the crickets...

I don't believe in feminism : discuss!

Nah, been there, done that, can't help it that I think it's a middle class, predominantly white bourgeoisie (that's a tautology, I know) pre-occupation bent of keeping women from actually just being equal instead of looking for all the ways in which they are not equal enough... Most people will disagree and (probably wisely) walk away from such a statement.

I had so much more to say when I was more idealistic. Now, I can't be bothered with ideals because they're impossible to achieve.

Brings to mind the saying, 'If you don't stand for something, you are more likely to fall for anything.'

I loathe sayings like that. They're mostly provocative and far too easy to dismiss because of the inherent flaws in their logic.

And again this week I saw a poster on Facebook with a picture of Whitney Houston on one side and, presumably, starving children in Africa on the other side and the caption 'One person dies and millions cry, but millions die and no one cries'... Provocative and ultimately useless and hateful.

So, now I don't stand for much, I don't fall for much, but I'm terribly, terribly boring, and I'm desperate for some grown up conversation - even if it's just about the weather!

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