Last week we went to see the extremely cool Leon Bridges, as I discussed awhile back. He was fabulous, however the woman in front of me decided she was entitled to talk loudly throughout the concert. She was oblivious to the glares from the people along side her, and the loud 'shhhh's hissed at her from the people in front of her. Finally the guy next to me leaned over my legs and said something angrily. He then apologised to me, insisting it had to be done. I smiled in agreement.
And still she talked on.
The woman she'd been talking to had taken it on board so the self-absorbed narcissist turned to the guy on the other side of her and started chatting to him. Later she returned to the woman and their conversation continued.
Finally I leaned forward and asked them politely to take their chat outside because they were ruining it for everyone. At this, she seemed affronted! I did not scream "WILL YOU SHUT THE F%&$ UP!" which was what I wanted to do, and frankly was entitled to do to someone with such a blatant disregard for other people.
After that, she did occasionally shut her big mouth, but never for very long. She did ruin the concert for me and a number of other people.
Why did she even go? When I went to Nelly, there was a bunch of drunken buffoons throwing popcorn and swearing (and I suspect trying to shock me, the out of place old lady). Even they stopped talking when the performers came on. They listened to the music. This woman wasn't drunk. She was selfish, inconsiderate and rude.
When you buy a ticket to something, as Nick Offerman pointed out at his show, you enter into a social contract with the performer and all the other people in the audience. (This woman's friend was a barrister, so maybe he can explain it to her. How do I know this? An indication of how loudly she was blathering on.) You are there to share an experience. You should be mindful of how your behaviour impacts on the experience of others. Put away your phone and experience what's happening on stage. Stop idle conversations. Listen to the music. Mainly, don't be a total dick. Or reimburse the ticket price to all the people sitting around you if you really can't keep your mouth shut.
I never thought I'd say this, but give me the drunken, popcorn throwing morons anyday!!
Linking with #OpenSlather
Sunday, 31 July 2016
Thursday, 28 July 2016
Expressions of Love in Art and Nature
I've done a couple in this series and thought I'd add some more. Nothing makes me smile more than seeing this little romantic prods around town. So to all the random artists that decide to share the love, thank you!
“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” — A Man Without a Country, Kurt Vonnegut
It is these little treasures that make me love life!
Linking this old post with#MakroTex on Love
Monday, 25 July 2016
First of the Month Fiction - August
Already it's time for short stories - newbies, write a story that's either 100 words exactly or one less than 30 words. Put it in the comments and then link your blog. You have until about the 10th of August to do so.
This story came from a funny conversation I had where someone explained what she did on her scrapbooking weekends (I didn't really know what a scrapbook was). The last line was what she said as to the reason why it was so enjoyable...it just seemed so kooky to me. So mine is in the 100 catagory...
She looked at the photos, faces smiling at her on beaches and mountains. The arm causally draped over her shoulder. She could cut out his head, and he would cease to exist in the recorded history. Except the hand left on her shoulder. A ghost hand in an image mounted on a carefully decorated page in an album of her life to be filed away as a mistake. D for disaster.
As if reading her mind, the woman next to her moved the scissors away. Raising her glass of wine in a toast she grinned "You don't scrap book angry!"
Linking with #MummyMondays #FortheloveofBlog and #KCACOLS
This story came from a funny conversation I had where someone explained what she did on her scrapbooking weekends (I didn't really know what a scrapbook was). The last line was what she said as to the reason why it was so enjoyable...it just seemed so kooky to me. So mine is in the 100 catagory...
She looked at the photos, faces smiling at her on beaches and mountains. The arm causally draped over her shoulder. She could cut out his head, and he would cease to exist in the recorded history. Except the hand left on her shoulder. A ghost hand in an image mounted on a carefully decorated page in an album of her life to be filed away as a mistake. D for disaster.
As if reading her mind, the woman next to her moved the scissors away. Raising her glass of wine in a toast she grinned "You don't scrap book angry!"
Linking with #MummyMondays #FortheloveofBlog and #KCACOLS
Saturday, 23 July 2016
Proud moments round 2
Since I wrote this post in 2014, I've had a number of short stories published in Grieve (obviously that's my specialty ;), had a travel post translated into German (and I'm very pleased that it is a post promoting many NGO's in Siem Reap, so it is more than just flattery, it is extending my reach in helping people in need).
I've been published on a number of commercial sites and written for a major hotel chain.
I am small but I'm growing, and more importantly, my writing is improving.
Best of all, I'm not compromising on what interests me, nor on how I write. I suspect that is the key to longevity. It's not being the bright burning star, it's the continued enjoyment and desire to write.
My photography is also improving (on occasion) and has been published in HuffPost and I won a fancy camera in #SnapSydney. I really need to do a course so I actually know how to use said camera, but for now I get a great deal of delight in playing around with photo ideas.
I may not be an economic success, but I am helping and defending people, and that means a lot to me.
I want to see change in the world, and let's face it, we desperately need it, and it starts with me.
I saw this on the internet with no name attached (sorry): 'Don't wait until you reach your goal to be proud of yourself. Be proud of every step you take to reach that goal'. There is no better advice.
What are you proud of?
Linking with #IMustConfess
I've been published on a number of commercial sites and written for a major hotel chain.
I am small but I'm growing, and more importantly, my writing is improving.
Best of all, I'm not compromising on what interests me, nor on how I write. I suspect that is the key to longevity. It's not being the bright burning star, it's the continued enjoyment and desire to write.
My photography is also improving (on occasion) and has been published in HuffPost and I won a fancy camera in #SnapSydney. I really need to do a course so I actually know how to use said camera, but for now I get a great deal of delight in playing around with photo ideas.
I may not be an economic success, but I am helping and defending people, and that means a lot to me.
I want to see change in the world, and let's face it, we desperately need it, and it starts with me.
I saw this on the internet with no name attached (sorry): 'Don't wait until you reach your goal to be proud of yourself. Be proud of every step you take to reach that goal'. There is no better advice.
What are you proud of?
Linking with #IMustConfess
Conversations with disappointment
Disappointment:
Noun. sadness or displeasure caused by the non-fulfillment of one's hopes or expectations.
When we think of disappointment, we think of a momentary feeling in reaction to an event. You quickly forget and move on. However as you age, these feelings weigh a little more heavily. It's the building up of the non-fulfillment of dreams, of not living the life you wanted, pressured by the realisation you are running out of time. The small prick will rise up from time to time, reminding you of what you missed, what might have been.
In the daily machinations of life, you merrily float along but sometimes, out of surprising places, an urgency takes hold. You are disappointed, not in others, not in what life has given you, but in yourself. You have allowed the non-fulfillment of dreams. You have put everyone else first only to wake up and discover you've put yourself last. Your needs are last, your feelings matter least, your desires are inconvenient but only because you have prioritised them that way. You have become the afterthought in your own life.
All those missed opportunities. All those unfulfilled dreams. Piling up around you.
Ellen Hopkins wrote this poem in which she sums up the outcome of disappointment perfectly (and I'm embarrassed to say I found it on Good Reads).
“Disappointment
Can do a couple things.
It can drop you into a giant
sucking sinkhole of
depression,
a place you have to fight
to climb out of. Or it
can trigger an epic
mania
to overcome the odds
and transform failure
into success. "
I have woken up to realise my hourglass is emptying and it is time for the mania. I need to make things happen. I need to make sure I'm attending to some of my dreams Obviously with kids, there are certain things that have to take precedence. Some things are unavoidable. Time is limited and plans often have to be cancelled. However I can insist I allocate more attention to what I need to do, or at least attempting it. I am the culprit. I am the one who needs to change. I am the one who has created the disappointment if I feel it.
And I will no longer do so.
To quote the wonderful Kurt Vonnegut "Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything.” or in short, it sucks to be old, you run out of excuses.
Linking with #OpenSlather
Noun. sadness or displeasure caused by the non-fulfillment of one's hopes or expectations.
When we think of disappointment, we think of a momentary feeling in reaction to an event. You quickly forget and move on. However as you age, these feelings weigh a little more heavily. It's the building up of the non-fulfillment of dreams, of not living the life you wanted, pressured by the realisation you are running out of time. The small prick will rise up from time to time, reminding you of what you missed, what might have been.
In the daily machinations of life, you merrily float along but sometimes, out of surprising places, an urgency takes hold. You are disappointed, not in others, not in what life has given you, but in yourself. You have allowed the non-fulfillment of dreams. You have put everyone else first only to wake up and discover you've put yourself last. Your needs are last, your feelings matter least, your desires are inconvenient but only because you have prioritised them that way. You have become the afterthought in your own life.
All those missed opportunities. All those unfulfilled dreams. Piling up around you.
Ellen Hopkins wrote this poem in which she sums up the outcome of disappointment perfectly (and I'm embarrassed to say I found it on Good Reads).
“Disappointment
Can do a couple things.
It can drop you into a giant
sucking sinkhole of
depression,
a place you have to fight
to climb out of. Or it
can trigger an epic
mania
to overcome the odds
and transform failure
into success. "
I have woken up to realise my hourglass is emptying and it is time for the mania. I need to make things happen. I need to make sure I'm attending to some of my dreams Obviously with kids, there are certain things that have to take precedence. Some things are unavoidable. Time is limited and plans often have to be cancelled. However I can insist I allocate more attention to what I need to do, or at least attempting it. I am the culprit. I am the one who needs to change. I am the one who has created the disappointment if I feel it.
And I will no longer do so.
To quote the wonderful Kurt Vonnegut "Maturity is a bitter disappointment for which no remedy exists, unless laughter could be said to remedy anything.” or in short, it sucks to be old, you run out of excuses.
Linking with #OpenSlather
Friday, 22 July 2016
A whale of a time
On the weekend we decided to book ourselves in for a whale watching cruise. We'd never done it before, though I have been lucky enough to see them by chance both in Hawaii and Culburra.
We booked a morning cruise on Captain Cook Cruises because they were very affordable and got me back in time for my afternoon theatre date. They're also in the Entertainment book for those that have that.
We set out in fog but the sun soon came out and so did the whales. There were about 6 in the first pod, that were a little distance from us, but still clearly visible.
After awhile, the number of spectator boats became too many (to be kind to the whales) so we moved on. This proved to be a blessing for us. As we settled into our solitary new spot, two whales that had been in the distance came over to check us out. If the boat didn't have glass on the windows you could have touched them. It was AMAZING! They frolicked near us for a good twenty minutes or so before heading back out to sea.And as none of my crew were seasick, I can say it was an awesome day! I was absolutely loving life!
Tuesday, 19 July 2016
Lush Life
Those of you who hang on my every word on Twitter already know this story (What? What do you mean you don't?). When I am feeling flush, or deserving of a treat, or just actually in town and walking past, I go to Lush and get the Cynthia Stout shampoo. I was on the way to the eye doctor and had time to duck into the QVB store. I couldn't find it on the shelves so asked the poor hapless assistant where it was.She informed me that the UK had decided they would no longer make it. I went into shock. I demanded why they hadn't told me the last time I purchased some, as I would have got a bigger bottle, or two bottles or more! (Some people like to use the word 'shock' as an excuse for being a nut. I am one of those people.)
"I live my day as if it was the last
Live my day as if there was no past"
As I strode onto the eye dr, I furiously tweeted Lush in the UK. I asked why would they get rid of their best product (my favourite anything is always the best - it's a fact), and I let them know they'd ruined my day. The tweeted back immediately that perhaps I should contact the Australian company. They left off 'you crazy fool' but I acknowledge they might have been entitled to throw that in for good measure."It was a crush
But I couldn't, couldn't get enough"
The wonderful people on the Australian twitter, were quick to offer to see what they could find. I would have merrily purchased every bottle left in the country! Fortunately for my wallet, there was only ONE bottle left. They offered to send it to me. As a gift. Even better. (Big thank you!!)
So yesterday, I went to the post office to pick up the precious last of the Cynthia Stout shampoo, delighted to discover they'd kindly added samples for me to try and find an adequate replacement...which I know I'll have to settle, and let's face it, life is too short to settle.I'm hoping as I work my way through the samples I find a new favourite to console myself with.
"Now I've found another crush (hopefully)
The lush life's given me a rush"
Have you ever had your favourite product discontinued?
(PS Not sponsored but SUPER impressed that the very good people at Lush went to all that effort to make my day! Now I just have to decide before each outing, is it stout worthy?)
Linking with #Openslather and #MondayMakeupMadness
Monday, 18 July 2016
What would you do? Other people's kids
Warning: This post may contain dangerous triggers so please don't read if you have any history or risk of domestic violence or random violence. (The post is not that interesting anyway). This is not my area but Lifeline Crisis line is 13 11 14 and their site is here. If in immediate danger, call 000.
This is an unusual post, as I witnessed something last week and my thoughts keep returning to it. We were at the BBR Festival and the kids were playing in the snow. There was a little boy about six, at the most seven, and he was kicking at the snow towers so they crumbled into small pieces he could stomp on. However, as his foot was coming down on the ball of snow to pulverize it, he would shout "Take that, bitch!". I stood shocked, watching with evidently with so much horror and disdain on my face that a young 20 something man caught my eye. "What the hell is that about?" He shrugged in collusion and then wandered off. Relevant only in the fact that the behaviour was noticeably odd, not that I'm some crazy lady.
The mother (or nanny) had no visible signs of abuse, but weirdly didn't seem to feel the need to tell the child off.
At that moment I got a phone call and was then distracted and we wandered off soon after.
What nags me is this: Should I have done something?
1) Should I have asked the mother/nanny if she was ok?
2) Should I have explained to the child they shouldn't say such things?
Where does a child that age get those words in the first place? Is it just something from GTA or an inappropriate movie, and I'm jumping to conclusions?
What would you have done? And what should I have done?
Linking with #MummyMondays & Fortheloveofblog
This is an unusual post, as I witnessed something last week and my thoughts keep returning to it. We were at the BBR Festival and the kids were playing in the snow. There was a little boy about six, at the most seven, and he was kicking at the snow towers so they crumbled into small pieces he could stomp on. However, as his foot was coming down on the ball of snow to pulverize it, he would shout "Take that, bitch!". I stood shocked, watching with evidently with so much horror and disdain on my face that a young 20 something man caught my eye. "What the hell is that about?" He shrugged in collusion and then wandered off. Relevant only in the fact that the behaviour was noticeably odd, not that I'm some crazy lady.
The mother (or nanny) had no visible signs of abuse, but weirdly didn't seem to feel the need to tell the child off.
At that moment I got a phone call and was then distracted and we wandered off soon after.
What nags me is this: Should I have done something?
1) Should I have asked the mother/nanny if she was ok?
2) Should I have explained to the child they shouldn't say such things?
Where does a child that age get those words in the first place? Is it just something from GTA or an inappropriate movie, and I'm jumping to conclusions?
What would you have done? And what should I have done?
Linking with #MummyMondays & Fortheloveofblog
Wednesday, 13 July 2016
Take a break - Snowtime and the Hunter Valley
However, we did sneak up for an overnight getaway to the Hunter Valley, for the annual Snowtime festival. It's great fun for all ages, and the sun came out for us in the afternoon, so we even managed to swim (or in my case, read my book in the spa with the sun on my face). It was a divine luxury! For 24 hours I was truly loving life!
Did you make the most of the holidays? What did you get up to?
Linking this old post with #NaturesNotes #SaturdayCritters & #GardenAffair as the school holidays are pending, I'm about to take another break and am currently planning a trip to the Hunter for Snowtime...It's getting back to nature without the effort!
For further reading on Snowtime adventures:
http://sydney.kidtown.com.au/snowtime-in-the-hunter-valley-gardens/
or
Overnight Adventure: Fun in the Hunter and Newcastle
Countryside #Haunted2016
An early morning jog offered some spooky pleasure. Between that and the kangaroos with joeys in their pouches, I regretted only taking my phone and not a real camera.
Linking with #WeekendinB&W
Not haunted but for those of you overseas, there's one of the joeys....
Linking with #SaturdayCritters