Oh bother!

And fluff and stuff, as Winnie the Pooh would say (you know, the original from the book, not the cartoon series).

The outside of my apartment block is getting a re-paint. I made sure I left all the windows unlatched to assist in this, even though it wasn’t requested. They have done an abysmal job. Masking tape to ensure clean lines? Oh no, they don’t need that – and clean lines? What are they? We received a letter the day they finished painting our windows saying that we needed to co-operate and open our windows, etc. if we did not do this, it would be our own fault. My windows have been painted shut. A couple of them have actually been painted open. I left them all open anyway. How is this my fault? Is there anything they can or will do to fix this? Probably not.

The beautiful branches of the trees in front of my apartment that have offered unrivalled privacy as well as their shelter, insulation and shade in Summer have been callously lopped off – solely to allow said painters to get their scaffolding up without putting the effort in to actually maybe, you know, tie the branches out of the way. I’m almost more livid about this than I am about the shonky painting.

They raised my rent $130pcm this month (something I know I’ve already moaned about, but it’s actually happened this month – and we did get someone out to have a look, etc. etc. – they said we should be paying more than our landlord was actually raising our rent to!).

I’m studying photography but hating the school I’m at. I just want my diploma and then to walk away and forget any of their horrible administration blunders (which I encounter on average, ever fortnight) ever happened. This also means I am incredibly uninspired to do anything with my photography at the moment. Which in turn means I am uninspired to do anything at all. I rocked up late to work (because they don’t really care, thankfully, or I’d be out of a job) simply because I couldn’t be bothered. And now I’m here I still can’t be bothered. But I need the money.

I can’t afford to buy a house because I’m not qualified in anything that could earn me a better wage than I’m getting now. I also can’t afford to buy a house because house prices are rising exponentially. And any house that I would actually want to buy is getting snapped up by greedy developers who will knock it down and turn it into 12 apartments they can milk for exorbitant rent – not because they NEED to, because the CAN.

This situation is making me so upset, livid and out of control I feel sick. And there’s not a damn thing I, or anyone else, can do about it.

Damn the Man. He doesn’t care and I’m hard pressed to find anyone else who does too. I mean, we’ve got refugee camps, global financial crises, un-necessary wars, not enough contraception, too many people - and too many of those people dying, not enough healthcare or education and no-one seem to care about any of that either – so my little problems fade into insignificance.

Weighting, waiting, weighting

Last May I joined Weight Watchers. I wasn't happy with the size I was, even though I wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, obese. Or even, to a lot of people, fat.

Since joining WW I have lost 12 kilos, which leaves me with a measely 6 kilos left to lose. Hooray!

Except now I have hit a bit of a bump in the road. I haven't been to any WW meetings in a month and I haven't been eating healthy.

So this bump in the road. The few followers of this blog are saying, sure, these things happen, no biggie, we believe in you, etc., etc., give us more lowbrow drama to fill our heads with cottonwool. Sorry, not today people. I have an 'issue' and I need to vent is somewhere. This is why I love the FART cart.

I don't actually remember the last time I was happy with my weight. I have been chubbier than I've wanted to for years. It's always been at the forefront of my mind and it has wrought havock with my self esteem. However, I have recently come to the realisation that FAT is not actually my issue. It's my family's issue. To be even more precise, it's my immediate family and my extended family on my father's side.

Now when I say that, I don't mean my family are all obese - quite the opposite, for the most part. What I mean is my family are obsessed with NOT being fat. They must do everything in their power to stay skinny! And if you get even a little bit chubby - lookout!

Just for a basic introduction to the kind of fat my family is against:

• Over a ladies size 14,
• Anything except a flat, washboard stomach Ms McPhearson would be proud of,

Uh, actually, that about covers it. However, conversely, you are not allowed to 'lose your femininity' by working out too hard and gaining too much muscle. Nor are you allowed to lose so much weight that you look gaunt and underfed.

So you know, that leaves a pretty narrow window. And completely forgets about essential items like genetics, hormones and age.

On both sides of the family (which means we can't get away from it. Ever.) we have genetically programmed into our body-type code, A Bit Of A Belly. This means that I will never, ever have a flat stomach. This is a fact I am now, after years of agonising and worrying, happy to deal with. My family on the other hand, can't quite come to terms with it.

Actually, I tell a lie. Once upon a time I did have a flat stomach. I had been sick for 10 days and hadn't been able to eat in a week. I lost 7 kilos in that one week and I was way too skinny.

Also, for those of you not in the know any woman, in any given month, will gain and lose weight, sometimes kilos at a time. This is natural and healthy. It's called hormones. Deal with it.

I also have a cousin who is rather obese (you don't want to end up like her do you?) and an aunty who was obese and has now joined the must-be-skinny obsession.

So for my whole life I've had this FAT = BAD thing stamped into my subconscious. And I'm now old enough and wise enough to put is behind me (well, ok, it's a slow process, but I'm getting there).

So my parents are coming back from a rather long hiatus overseas. They're coming back this Friday. This means I will now have my two biggest influences in my life back in... my life. You know what I mean, much closer quarters. And they are ecstatic that I've started getting fit and healthy. And they have been wonderful and supportive throughout. The only problem is, their version of 'supportive' takes me straight back to my teenage years. Allow me to explain.

I started swimming for exercise - it's a great, no-impact, sport where I don't have to compete against anyone but myself - my kind of exercise. So then my parents kept asking me, being all enthusiastic, 'how many laps have you done today?'. 'Have you been for a swim today?' Which made me feel exactly like I did when I was in highschool, 'have you done your homework?', 'have you tidied your room?'.

Now I know they're just excited that I'm getting into life, etc. However as soon as they start asking me these things I all of a sudden feel obliged to do it. For them. It makes the whole thing no longer my own - it's not mine anymore, I'm doing it to make them happy.

So I deliberately 'fell' off the wagon. Out of spite to my parents. That's right, ladies an gentlemen, a relatively sane 27 year old woman behaves like a 16 year old girl in a frump. Headlines headlines.

*sigh*

At least I know why I did it.

And I was talking to a friend about this as well. She suggested that I cut them out of my get fit/weight loss thing altogether. So they would not be allowed to ask me how I'm going or what I've been up to. If I wish to share my progress, successes and losses, then I will. But they would no longer able to enquire.

To me that sounds a little harsher than I'm willing to do all at once, however she put it very nicely, I've been giving ground to my parents my whole life, doing what they want me to do, behaving they way they want me to. I'm allowed to shut a few doors occasionally.

Regardless, I'm starting again today and I'm hoping with my fingers tightly crossed that I have, at the very least, not put on in my month-long holiday from reason - I've still been exercising a bit, just not eating healthy (I love cheese, what can I say?!).

Happy short week everyone :)

Playing catch up

Well, not only did I not rise to my own challenge, I completely failed to follow through on any of the rest of my NZ antics... Ah well - it was fun. I got to meet and observe another family up close enough to see their own little familial foibles - it's nice when you can see everyone else has strange families - even though it's one of those things everyone knows. There was much NZ geography experienced and enjoyed, and plenty of relaxing. If you want more information, let me know - otherwise, it's April now people, let's move on :)

Another word following on from Witchie and Victoria's natural disasters - there were a few very minor earthquakes in Melbourne not too long ago. Nothing monumental, but I have now felt my second earthquake ever. The first one was that horrendous one in Newcastle in the early 90s (or nearabouts, I was young - I don't remember - we were on the outskirts anyway, I just get to say I was there, makes me sound worldly and impressive*).

Other than the above, things that have been happening: I performed at the Palais last Thursday and the Corner Hotel last Sunday (act impressed now). Both performances were amazing and heaps of fun - if you want to learn more, go here.

My latest exciting news is that my parents are returning from their overseas galavants and adventures - this means I no longer have to be the buffer for my sisters' angst and issues, yay! I can now safely return to dealing with my own angst and issues and tidying my house (yes, I'm still tidying Witchie - you can't come over yet) in relative** peace and quiet.

So... if anything else exciting comes my way, I'll let you know - until then, don't do anything Witchie wouldn't do :)

That is all.

Except for the footnotes.

And this sentence***.

*It does because I say it does.

**Hur hur ;P

***Ok, I know, I'm not as funny as I think I am - as long as I can amuse myself then everything's cool.