Day ? March 27… Announcing a new viral craze.




So March has been fucking busy.
I’ve written loads of half-blog posts and published none of them, which ain’t very good after such a wicked crack at writing something everyday in February.
But I haven’t been slacking behind the scenes. This blog and my personal mission to self-improve and use my time wisely is still very much ON and I’m very excited about two new YIFOF projects, one of which I will tell you about now.
Do you remember, my three dear readers, how a few weeks ago I posted about cool things that women have used Facebook for?
Do you remember reading about the nice young girl in Montreal, who fucked off a NEKnomination in favour of a RAKnomination? (In case you forgot RAK stands for Random Act of Kindness, and nominating someone else to do the same. Whilst NEK relates to chugging back a load of booze and passing that nomination on. Personally I think I would combine the two, but hey, that’s just me).
Anyway that nice young girl, Sarah, wrote a lovely email back, which said:

“I just want to let you know that you did an act of kindness just sharing my story. Because hopefully, more people will be encouraged to do RAKnominations as well. Take care, and keep spreading the love. Thank you for being you!”

Ain’t she a sweetheart?
Anyway, that email got me thinking.
Hmmm….what if the RAKnomination phenomenon diversified AGAIN?
What if it morphed into BRAKnomination – meaning BLOGGING RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS?
So here’s how it’s going to go down:
I am nominating three other bloggers to write a blog post. That blog post has to be about something kind that they think the world should hear about. When I say ‘kind’ that covers a wide spectrum. It can mean ‘kind’ in any sense of the word: funny, sweet, inspiring. It can be a news sensation, a global success, or a word-of-mouth story that sears your soul.
It’s up to each blogger to decide.
So my three nominees are (drum roll please):

1. Jenny Lawson
In case you don’t already know, she is the bloggess, and is also the author of the fucking hilarious memoir ‘Let’s Pretend this never happened”. In the blog world she is pretty big news. I hope she gets on board this BRAKnomination trip cos’ I’d love to see what she comes up with.

2. Tiger of My heart
This girl is as new to the blog world as me, but she has a cool pic, she writes well and she sounds fab. Plus she is about to pop out her first sprog, so she’s bound to be in a bubble of love and up for spreading a little joy through BRAKnomination.

3.Kayte Murphy
Have you heard of the blog
This blog is great. Thoughtful and wicked funny. I feel certain this gal can come up with something fantastical for her BRAKnomination blog post.

Once these ladies have written their blog posts, they have to nominate three bloggers themselves. Then those bloggers have to do the same, and so on.

What do you think….can we make this happen? I look forward to seeing where this journey goes…

March Day 40 – One man’s trash is another’s headless Barbie


Greetings trash pickers.
So curbing my hoardtastic tendencies is going well. It’s a slow process, but I’m getting there and I’m learning a lot about myself. Why I hoard. One of the biggest reasons is emotional attachment. For example, if my kid wore an outfit and we had fun that day, I feel bad letting it go. Even if the outfit is now way too small, covered in stains and good to no one, I have trouble parting with it, because I’m attached to the memory of the moment it represents. Apparently such emotional attachment is common, but it’s a spanking clutter no-no. Clutter experts reckon the solution is to remind yourself that this ‘thing’ is just that. It’s not alive. If it disappears, you are not going to change, one little bit. The memory of the experience lives within you and no one can take that from you. The Clutter Queens also agree that ditching excess stuff is good for mental health as well. So with those thoughts in mind, I’ve been purging. This week alone I’ve ditched:

1. Three black bags brimming with clothes.
Enough said. Three bags though – that’s insane!
The worst part is, there is still an overflow at my house. It’s as though a laundromat exploded.

2. A plasticine arm that fell off a sculpture. One of the boisterous beings made in art class. I promised to glue it back on…three years ago. Now I’ve admitted proscrastinator’s defeat and launched it.

4. Several loads of paper to be recycled. Mostly cute kid drawings and misspelt notes. Those were hard to part with. If you could see my face right now, my tortured expression, I look like an art critic who has just been asked to torch the Mona Lisa.

5. Mr.Potato Head’s lips.
This sounds creepy. But those little lips were a favourite of the boisterous beings. Back when they were toddlers, they loved to plunk them in their own mouths and then ham it up. They were cute and funny. But just talking about that memory makes me feel better. Farewell lips, you provided hours of innocent kid giggles.

6. A headless barbie.
Enough said really. That bitch is scarey enough with her head attached, never mind without it.

7. A quarter bottle of Martini.
Alcohol lovers, don’t hate me. That bottle had to go. It’s the bottle-that-wouldn’t die.
It’s been lurking in the back of my cupboard since I got married, ten years ago.
It always seems to get pulled out any time someone’s desperate for a drink.
Turns out, when I pour people a glass of that, they ain’t so desperate anymore.
Anyway that bottle of Martini had it’s last outing on Saturday night when, after a particularly rowdy book club meeting (in the pub), my wonderful friend Jude and I came back to mine. Just like the good International Women’s day revelers that we are, we felt in need of a post-pub tipple. But my alcohol supplies were low and measly. No matter! We proceeded to polish off the dregs in the left-over bottles of my liquor cabinet. With the gusto of sailors on shore leave. After working on a tee-total ship. We finished off a bottle of apple rum. A bottle of espresso vodka. Some god-awful mystery Spanish bottle, that I’m fairly sure was nail polish remover. So between the pub and that lot, we’d had more than enough. But no. We still attempted the never-ending martini bottle…but we just couldn’t do it. That’s how foul it was. So this morning, I finally put that vintage out of it’s misery. I tipped the last of it down the sink. Just the smell of it going down the drain made my nose hairs curl. R.I.P. My old friend. You knew how to shut a party down.

Anyway, clearly there is still much work to be done if I want to get 30 per cent of stuff banished by the end of the month. Perhaps if I buy a NEW bottle of martini, tackling the scarey closet under the stairs might not seem as bad after all.

March Day 32 Techno Tuesday


Whoop whoop.

Did I already mention that this month is all about getting organized? Did you get that memo?
Well I’m not only dusting off the cobwebs and getting ride of shite at home, I’m also attempting to give the blog a bit of a tidy up. A bit of structure, if you will. So every Tuesday will now be known as Techno Tuesday. No. Don’t worry, I don’t mean that God-awful nose-bleed music that is the distant cousin of Funky house. I mean what is going down in the world of technology.
So since this week is the run-up to International Women’s Day and because I could be misconstrued as a Facebook hater, I’ve decided to combine the two and give you the low-down on how women and Facebook have done some great things together.

1. Under The Red Dress

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One of the coolest things about social media is how it starts dialogue. It gets people talking about subjects that are usually swept under the carpet.
Take this campaign for instance, ‘Under the Red Dress’.                     It features Beth Whaanga, a mum-of-four, from Australia. Instead of hiding her body after taking on breast cancer, she posed, post surgery for all the world to see. Her naked pictures contrast not only with the picture of her looking like dynamite in a red dress, but with the usual public face we get for breast cancer. The pink ribbons. The demure Angelina Jolie and her preemptive double mastectomy. Candy-coated cancer. As soon as Beth’s photo-shoot got posted on Facebook, it got a mixed response. Most people commended her for her bravery. But not everyone. More than a hundred ‘Friends’ unfriended her, declaring the images inappropriate. I tell you what is inappropriate. The language that I want to use to describe those fuck-wits.

2. Raknomination

The youth of today, hey? A bunch of vapid, self-serving nincompoops who only look out for themselves.And foolish? Have you heard about the latest trend sweeping those mispenders? It’s called Neknomitate. It basically involves drinking a pint of beer, filming the deed, then nominating three others and posting it to social media.
But around here, us Yifof’s don’t pander to tired cliches. We know that today’s yoof have more scruples than most give ’em credit for. This young lady in Montreal shows young people have heart. Sarah Mancini bucked the trend and put her own spin on the pass-it-on game. Raknomination (Random Acts Of Kindness) is her interpretation on the viral game. Instead of downing a pint, she gave a homeless man, shivering in the snow, a new scarf, blanket and gloves, as well as a gift card for a coffee shop. Then she nominated three other friends and posted her video to Facebook. That’s where the story takes flight. Not only did the three friends she originally nominate rise to the challenge, but hundreds of others did too – many of whom she had never met.

3.Who wants to be a billionaire – I DO

I might moan that Facebook gave me the Queen of the time-wasters crown. Not so for Sheryl Sandberg, the company’s second in command. She just earned the title of the world’s newest self-made, female billionaire. That’s nothing to be sniffed at.

4. Double the Fun
Always end on a happy kicker, that’s the motto of those sharing news, so who am I to flout tradition? What’s better than a water skiing squirrel? How about twins, separated at birth, sent to different continents and then reunited via Facebook? Amazingly, the girls didn’t even know they had a twin, it was only when a friend commented on a similarity between them that the incredible chain of events unfolded. As stories go, this one’s a little cracker. Check out the full story here:


March Day 30


Women are bitches to each other.

I know. Alert the media.
It’s not new news, but it’s something that’s bugging the shit out of me, so I thought I’d get it off my (saggy) chest. It perplexes me and it always has, how girls and women can be so horrid to each other. Heck, Tina Fey even wrote a movie (Mean Girls) documenting just how vile us damsels can be to each other. But full disclosure. I’m not innocent to the low shallows of “indirect aggression” (if we’re giving bitchiness it’s proper title). Even more disclosure: I feel a little ironic discussing vacuous spite, since I’m currently in my living room, watching the ‘vulture fest’ a.k.a the Oscars. After all, the dissection of celebs and their fashion choices is the grand poohbah of discreet bitch fests…Unless you’re Joan Rivers, of course, then you just let your bitchiness hang out on the open…Unlike your wrinkles, which you pin back so far behind your ears that they practically do a 360. See what I did there? Bam! One glass of good rose wine and I’m a fucking natural at this shit.
Why do I hate bitchiness? I’ll tell you why. It’s because girls put up with it all their lives. It begins as a flurry in elementary school, elevates to a dull roar in middle school, only to hit fever pitch by teenage ville. With such an undercurrent of tension shaping our formative years, you would think that as we matured we would calm the jets on our back- stabbing ways. You would think that when middle age beckoned, with daughters of our own, we would want to break the cycle.
Do we fuck! Since becoming a mother, I’m sad to say that the broads I’ve encountered being awful to each other is astounding. But it ain’t nothing new. Being at the mercy of estrogen-driven cruelty is as old as time. According to some researchers, women favour indirect aggression because back when we were all wearing loin cloths, living in caves, women got saddled with cave-sitting and looking after the kids. So in order not get kicked out of the cave crib and passed over for younger cave diva, passive aggression evolved as a survival tactic.
But I say FUCK.THAT.SHIT. You know what girls, we left the cave along time ago. We don’t need to hide behind our husbands loin cloths, bitching at other damsels just in case they nab our geezer. We don’t need to smile and wave at other girls, only to stick the knife in as soon as their back is turned.
Frenemy is a new word, and it sucks that it exists. Because life is simple and it’s formula don’t take no genius to work it out. Live it, laugh through it and enjoy it. And If you have a gripe with someone: spill it. Don’t wait till they leave the room to launch your caustic attack. As my little Irish Nan would have said, “People in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” But she was a sweet, wonderful lady without a bad bone in her body. Me, I’m not so pure. But you all know I adore a cliche. So to all my retractors I say this: “Be careful what you say. It may come back to bite you on the arse.” OK Vent done and dusted. If you made it this far into my blog post, thank you. And if you are female I hope you take heed. It’s International Women’s day in six days. All over the world so many women are still fighting for simple things. An education. Who to marry. To keep their genitalia intact. Here in the West we’re fucking lucky. So let’s remember that and practice a little kindness. Now…back to the Oscars and Jared Leto.