Get off the Stage

That day.

2012-07-14T21:46:00.001+10:00

Her youth burned in her eyes that steamy Christmas morning.
Who knew such a simple thing would ignite the nostalgia she craved.
Her face glowed with a sheen not caused by the hands of summer; her innocence had been uncovered if only for a few minutes.
Life stopped and all I saw was her gliding into the days of childlike hope with such fluidity.
That scooter was the key to her soul.
She too was young once but it took a trip down my driveway to reveal that glimmer in her eyes that had been clouded by living.
My grandmother that day - a perpetual child aged only by her body.

Reality bites

2012-07-14T21:25:00.000+10:00

I had a dream about you last night. It seemed so real. I could see the lines around your eyes as you smiled and could feel your stubble under my hands. Seeing you smile made me feel me again. It wasn’t a dream in the past, it was of today’s present. We forgave and moved on into an uncertain maybe future. We touched the way we did the first time, full of excitement and promise of more moments. I felt home again.

Then I woke up.

It's a girl.

2012-01-25T04:09:00.000+10:00

I used to wish for boys. For god to bless me with beautiful, healthy boys when that time came when I was ready to forgot about my selfish desires and commit to the innocence of my own child.

I now pray for girls.

I pray for one of the 200 million missing girls in the world today. The souls of those killed in today’s modern genocide or gendercide. Today, India and China abort or kill more female foetuses and babies than the total number of girls born in America.

An entire gender in various countries is being exterminated. Strangled, choked, tossed, dumped, aborted, abandoned, drowned and tortured. The gendercide is the modern day holocaust yet we have failed to act, instead we turn a blind eye to established countries decision to treat girls as sick cattle.

“It’s a girl” has been branded by the movie sharing the same name as the three deadliest words in the world.

Woman are the ones that complete 66% of the world’s work and in developing worlds they do 60-80% of the farming. Girls, as Beyonce said to a beat, run the world....yet only if given the chance to let their heart beat.

I pray for the castoff girls. The ones that gasped for air only to have it cut off by their own family. The ones seen only as a dowry burden or a shame on the family name.

Give me girls. Give me the forgotten girls.

A baby girl is not a problem. She is not a burden. She is a hope for tomorrow.

The love of my life

2011-07-31T19:24:00.000+10:00

Before I begin I must disclose that I am THAT person. Don’t worry in a few more words you will see what I mean.

I booked my dog in for a doggy glamour shot. Yup I am THAT person. I am a 20-somthing professional with no children – my dog is the love of my life. My family has always had dogs but Harley is MY first dog. I chose where he would come from, picked him out and paid for him. I went through the sleepless nights as he adjusted to life without his doggy mummy and bonded with human mummy, we have cuddled as boys have come and gone and enjoyed Saturday ice creams in the park – he is my other half and my true soul mate. He knows when I want to laugh and when I need a shoulder to cry on. I wouldn’t be me without him. Yes I am THAT kind of person – scream it from the roof tops – OBSESSED with my dog.

I can't describe the love I have for Harley and the connection we share. When I am without him I don't feel whole - he lights me up and centers me. He inspires me spiritually and educates me on living life full of grace. We lean on each other and seek solace in our bond. He is my protector, best friend and child.

After saying all this, I am actually leaving Harley for some time to live in London (don't worry he will still be at home with mum and dad). It will break my heart saying good-bye but it is an adventure I must do. I decided I wanted to get some truly amazing shots of my boy to take with me on my journey and contacted Diana from K9 Photography.

Harley was a complete diva for one who hasn’t even cracked the modelling industry yet, but with a face like his it was hard to get a bad shot.

God I love him and thank God everyday for bringing us together.

Don't act like you don't!

2011-07-28T21:57:00.001+10:00

As you grow up you begin to learn a few things about walking in big kid shoes – vanity, dignity and embarrassment – and how to become an everyday liar with big flaming pants.

I somehow failed to acquire the complete facets of these big kid qualities, frequently feeling like the odd one out, when I know everyone is simply lying to save face. This isn’t Japan people!

So I decided to compose a list of the top five lies we ALL tell to look like we are actually really really good people. So what do YOU lie about everyday:

Flossing. I went to the dentist and was told I need to floss. I went to work the next day to breach this topic, thinking we would all rise up in unison and agree it is just all in the too hard basket to play our teeth like violins each day. I was met with the following backlash “oh my god you don’t floss everyday!” Stop joking around, I know none of you without braces floss everyday – stop the lies!
Washing hands. I refuse to believe that in the comfort of one’s own home everyone washes their hands after number ones. Not possible.
Nose picking. Don’t act like you don’t pick your nose. Just stop it now, you stick your fingers in every other hole don’t pretend this one is a prude.
Peeing in the shower. Seinfeld brought this age old debate to light. “I saw a drain!” “Different pipes go to different places!” While Elaine is right, a little watered down wee is fine, it is basically cancelled out by all the soap you’re lathering up with. I know you wee wee in there.
Wipe and throw. Ewww I don’t wipe my bum then look at it! Yes you do. Human’s are like my dog Harley – he knows his poo is gross and embarrassing but he always goes back for a peek! You poo peek.

The biggest lies, as you may have noticed, centre around bodily functions because we are all pretty embarrassed by what our bodies leak, secrete, seep and project.

So stop pretending you don't do these things...I know you smell your farts.

Doctor Harry starts my Monday

2011-07-18T19:01:00.000+10:00

Here I was minding my own business when I received a text from my boyfriend - standard - what wasn't standard was the video attached.

OH MY GOLDEN RETRIEVER IT'S DOCTOR HARRY! Yes THE Dr.Harry sent out a hi to not just me but the love of my life, my German Shepard Harley. Jealous?

Clips to make your week

2011-07-18T13:46:00.003+10:00

Hello Monday, how did you get here so quickly? It only felt like yesterday Friday was swooning me...alas we meet again, as always. So to cure any Mondayitus, check at these clips that will make your weekly fresh start much more palatable.

So lets cue the lols - watch fantastic comedian, Michael McIntyer discuss something we all have - THE MAN DRAW - don't be confused this isn't a draw just for men, it's that draw we all have in the house, usually at the bottom filled with orphaned crap! Think batteries, rubber bands, screw drivers and user manuals.

Now all my nearest and dearest know I love me a one-piece. Yes I am talking swimwear - ALREADY you say - girl it's almost spring hit the treadmill! Tyra Banks has released a lol-tastic clip about her love of one-pieces and how to wear them.

If you havn't watched this where have you been? Whether you want to marry her like me or don't give a booty shake about Beyonce` this mini-doco is so fasinating. The 'Year of 4' takes a look at the interesting process of producing an album. Oh and Beyonce was her own Manger for this album!

And finally because I love animals and Harry Potter- this clip sums up the whole series by some cutie pie kittens...

Enjoy!

Me as a vegan?

2011-07-10T20:50:00.006+10:00

I have decided to go vegan. For 21 days. Yes, not vegetarian, the whole hog (pun intended). I have decided to completely swing my normal eating habits on their head and cleanse the system. Why? Because I am tired of being tired, tired of being sick, tired of feeling like I am out of sync with my body. Is veganism the answer? I really don’t know, but I believe if I strip everything back and eat as natural as I can I will be able to see more clearly where my problems lie. I am a firm believer in we are what we eat, so I believe going back to the raw basics of fruit and vegetables will aid in finding balance and wellness in my diet.

So why vegan? Well, I eat hardly any meat as it is so vegetarianism wouldn’t be too hard and I know dairy is my killer – I FUCKING LOVE EGGS – I have been known to have a hardboiled egg in my hand bag for a snack. But to be frank, diary makes me feel like shit. Doctors tell me I am “lactose intolerant” – to that I say GIVE ME ICE CREAM! It’s a drug, one big juicy, creamy drug. But when you think about it, how disgusting* are we to eat another milk produced by a completely different species? We are the only known living beings to do this by choice, not by situation or lack of available resources but because hell we want to milk the shit out of cows!

The purpose of milk – from any animal – is to essentially fatten up a baby. However, eventually animals are weaned off it once they are strong enough to eat solids....except humans. Many scream “CALCIUM” but all animals once weaned off milk get their calcium from plants – yet we humans have become too lazy to eat some spinach, instead we gorge on chocolate milk. [On a side note, if you do rely on milk as your main source of calcium you must be eating enough magnesium otherwise your body cannot absorb the calcium in milk.] You’re body naturally absorbs calcium from plants with more ease than dairy and the World Health Organisation actually recommends reducing animal proteins and increasing fruits and veggies to promote healthy bones.

On a humanitarian note –milking cows just don’t live a very happy life. I like to think they chill

on the land and someone with a little wooden stool and a straw hat comes and fills up a bucket and goes on their merry way. NU-AHHH. Due to selective breeding and genetic manipulation,

cows in Australia produce 35 – 50 litres of milk per day, ten times more than what they would naturally produce for their young. So what is the point? All this milk puts strain on the animal causing painful stretching of udders, tearing of ligaments, infections etc. Which means some GROSS results in our milk – think blood, mucus and bacteria which isn’t all washed out when pasteurised. In Victoria there is NO limit on the amount of pus or “Somantic Cell Count” that appears in pasteurised milk. ICKY ICKY POO!

In Australia, a diary cow is impregnated to produce at least one calf a year to ensure they keep producing milk. These calves are taken away from their mother within 12-24 hours. Imagine the stress mother and calf must be in? In nature a calf suckles from its mom for up to a year! So what does this scene look like? A mother screaming for its offspring and separated calf frightened and in complete shock. Then – mum is schlep off to milking to keep pumping out those dollars. And the calf? Three quarters of a million unwanted diary calves’ are sent to slaughter so you can eat veal – they are generally five to six days old. A FIVE DAY OLD BABY IS SENT TO SLAUGHTER! The Australian industry additionally approved withholding food from five day old calves for up to 30 hours before slaughter. Calves usually eat five times a day. Yep – this is what our country deems as humane.

So it is pretty obvio I LOVE MY ANIMALS. Can I be hypocritical – yes, especially if you challenge me when I’m eating my McDonalds cheeseburger. But the whole point is to be AWARE of WHERE your food comes from. This is why I have decreased my meat intake and in learning more about the dairy industry, why I want to decrease my demand on this animal by-product. I want to walk the walk more. I want to feel that sense of wholeness. I want to connect with my food and not absentmindedly scoff down my chicken breast in front of ‘Two and a Half Men.’ I know people will for some reason get offended at this vegan pledge, the same way many challenge you when you let on you believe in Jesus – people have a need to deduce ones beliefs maybe because they realise they have none?

So time to jump into the deep end tomorrow. Hopefully at the end of this I will have more energy, clearer skin, s-shaped poos and in the name of vanity, a few less kilo’s.

*I am not an angry cow with sore tits....or paid by cows to protest

Got any vegan recipe ideas? Please share!

High Brow

2011-06-08T19:52:00.008+10:00

Everyone has one. That thing they notice almost instantly on a person’s face. For some it’s hair or lack there-of, others its the eyes but for me, you had me at “eye-brows.” Yes my beauty OBSESSION is eyebrows. Those incredible slug line hair that drape curiously above your peepers. They do it for me.

Being blessed (this word has changed from cursed in my later years) with thick, black eyebrows I have been able to hone my talent on this completely necessary yet practically useless strips of hair. Eyes may be the window to your soul but a window is not a window without a frame and the eyebrows are the all important frame.

While i go BANANAS for eyebrows so many girls do not and it gives me eyebrow grief. A girl can be transformed with a good shape and shadow of the brow. Don’t believe me? Check out these babes who all have a dirty little secret – they all once had ICKY ICKY poo thin, unshaped eyebrows.

Example A: Jennifer Hawkins

Before she was crowned Miss Myer and ohh Miss Universe she was just another GC Miss Indy contestant who was channeling Pamela Anderson in the brows department. Now she exudes high glamour with her perfectly shaped and shaded brows (tip: JH does not have naturally thick brows she thickens them with shadow, you ~~can~~ should do this now!)

Example B: Lauren Conrad

From the beach to the hills was all it took for LC to realise she look HORRIFIC with those brows and made them red carpet ready.

Example C: Megan Fox

Mega babe was once mega travesty with her too thin brows that removed her sex-pot status with each tweeze.

HOW CAN I LOOK AHH-MAZING YOU SAY!?

Be realistic about your brow shape. While you may lust after Brooke Shields circa Blue Lagoon that style may be aiming a little too high. Look at celebrities with similar eyebrows to you and check them out. Also while the yummy bushy look is very much in decide whether it will work for you. A groomed brow suits all but a fashion forward bush on the brow does not. You must have an extremely beautiful face to do so – hence why it is generally reserved for models. But props for trying! I suggest looking for inspiration from my brow-babe Camille Belle.

The easiest way to find your brow shape is to grab a pen, while I did a tutorial on my own face I decided Angelina Jolie is better eye candy for us all.

Step 1: Line pen up along the side of your nose, this will show you where your brows START.

Step 2: Holding pen still at the corner of your nose tilt on an angle until it crosses your iris (looking forward) this is the HIGHEST point of the brow

Step three: Tilt pen even further from the corner of your nose until it reaches the end of your eye, this is where your brow ENDS

NOW when you know the rules you can break them. For a dramatic look extending the brow line even further is EPIC GLAM and was used by dames such as Liz Taylor and Marilyn Monroe.

So PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE pay attention to your brows - they will make your face SOOOO MUCH BETTER! The moment you do you will wonder how you went all those years not looking your best! Shaping your brow will make you look younger, more rested and HOTTER. It's the affordable face lift and the accessible make over.

Shape, shadow and love your brows today.

IT'S...

2011-06-03T08:07:00.000+10:00

As you sleep he suffers

2011-05-30T21:28:00.004+10:00

You urge your body to move but you are bound. You strain to break free but you are contained. You scream for help but you are ignored. You watch your friends murder and all you can do is wait. You shake with fear as the brutal end nears closer for you. You shake and you wait..you wait for the blade to take the pain away but it doesn't. You wait and you lie waiting to be set free. But it doesn't come.

The live export of Australian beef cattle is the dirty little secret of the Australian industry and who is to blame. LiveCorp. Meat & Livestock Australia. The Federal Government.

Australian beef - live cows - that are exported to Indonesia are destined for a horrifying exit to life. Over 6.5 million Australia cows have been shipped to Indonesia for brutal torture for the stake of a $300 million a year industry.

The Australian tax payer is helping fund this brutal industry. Are you ok with that? Can you live knowing that part of your money is going into the funding of a gruesome, slow death for our prized animals?

While many of us look to place the blame on these countries that commit the act - Indonesia slaughterhouses are trained by the Australian industry and use Australian equipment. We did this. All of it. We might not take the blade to the neck but we steal their final horrific breathe.

Lyn White from Animals Australia conducted an investigation into the live export to Indonesia, witnessing kills and the sinking ship of Australia's humanity.

"It slid off the concrete slab onto the ground, got onto its knees, regained its feet with its throat gaping and blood pouring from its throat. And then it ended up charging towards me with its throat cut. It was just appalling."

Animals are in such distress they purposely bash there heads against the ground in an attempt to knock themselves out...to escape the immense pain and fear.

"I remember at the time so clearly saying each time oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. These animals were just about knocking themselves out. And to think that we had designed, that Australian industry had designed that. It couldn't have placed the animals at greater risk," said White.

Blunt knives are used to kill the animal - a death that should take just one cut takes on average 10 to 33 cuts. Many cows are still conscience while their head hangs on by flicks of flesh.

Animals are not just killed, they are beaten, tortured, placed under immense stress and disgusting conditions.

"I remember thinking so clearly at the time that this animal just didn't understand why he was being beaten, and it was almost like he was calling out why? And there were no answers to that question."

Below is a transcript extract from Four Corners describing a condition for one Australian cow, one that will sadden you and make your heart howl, but this is not a one off story.

"SARAH FERGUSON: This white steer has been roped. He slips on the wet faeces-covered floor and breaks his leg. He slumps over a stone pylon.

Over 25 minutes the handler goads him to move despite the broken leg.

LYN WHITE: At that point he was in a state of collapse and he should've been slaughtered on the spot. Instead, the worker decided that he would do everything to try and get him to his feet, to drag him in for slaughter.

SARAH FERGUSON: He breaks his tail, gouges deep into his nose and eye socket.

LYN WHITE: He would try and get his head away when his eyes were being gouged. He just couldn't get to his feet because his leg was broken.

SARAH FERGUSON: The stricken animal is kicked - altogether nine times.

LYN WHITE: When all else failed they tried to put water up his nostrils until they finally realised that he wasn't going to get to his feet and then he suffered the most horrendous death."

Animals involved in Live Export are at many times sliced and diced before they are even given a chance to die - simply because time is money.

While these facts trouble us, spare a thought for the fellow cows awaiting their own fate. Cows and most animals feel fear, they sense what we sense, as White learnt at one abboiture where one cow was left trembling in fear as he awaited his imminent death and watched his friends scream in pain as they were sliced and skinned.

"The animals were tied up and forced to watch as others were killed and cut up.

TEMPLE GRANDIN: Fear circuits in the brains of mammals have been completely mapped. Animals definitely experience fear.

SARAH FERGUSON: Until there was only one left.

LYN WHITE: It was heartbreaking. A steer stand there trembling violently as it watched its mates cut up around it. They were clearly cognisant of what was going on and it was causing them extreme fear"

This has been happening - The Australian Government has know and allowed this to happen - for the past decade. As the industry scrambles to execute some kind of crisis control Animals Austral and the RSPCA are asking for you to help.

People power can create changes. Thanks to the voices of Australians, live export was banned to Egypt in 2006.

The change of one creates the change of many. Stand up for the voiceless.

Stand up for the poor cow who trembled in fear as he watched his friends suffer at the hands of a quick dollar and a beef burger.

What you can do:

Click here to watch the 4 Corners episode.

Click here to visit the Ban Live Export campaign website.

Email Agriculture Minister: Joe.Ludwig@maff.gov.au

On Twitter, tweet @JuliaGillard demanding the ban to live export and hash tag #banliveexport

Cutie Pie Clip of the Day

2011-05-29T21:57:00.002+10:00

I L.O.V.E animals - could spend the rest of my life with just animals....so I have decided to post some of the OWWWW worthy clips I drool over.

This one: dreaming kitten + mumma cat + cuddles = TOO MUCH CUTENESS!

The Barbie Girl World

2011-05-29T16:59:00.009+10:00

What is your number one concern right now? In 2010, Mission Australia conducted a survey on 50,000 young people (11 - 24 years) and found the number one concern - the NUMBER ONE - was body image! Out of everything else in life, body image trumped stress, family conflict and relationships.

Why? Well didn't you get the memo? You can't be successful in life unless you're beautiful. Look around you - that message is everywhere. In the media all we see is the perfect body and this puts not just pressure on everyday people but the people in the photographs.

Cindy Crawford once said; "I wish I looked like Cindy Crawford."

Even the models, the celebrities and the actors can't reach the image of beauty that advertisers desire to choke us with.

So how do they get what they want - well we know that one, Photoshop! How photoshop has changed the landscape in the past 10 years. Every single image - EVERY ONE - you see in magazines has been altered.

Photoshop is the godsend to magazines who want the fast turnaround from celebrities. When celebrities get knocked up they generally sign a deal to a magazine saying they will get the first baby shot and of course the first "look at me in my bikini, how you can lose the baby weight in three seconds like me!"

Except there is one teeny tiny problem - new mothers can't lose weight in one second...oh but photoshop can!

Seven days after Kourtney Kardashian gave birth to Mason US OK placed this altered image on the cover with the title, "My diet Secrets: How to lose 10lbs in 10 days!"

One problem - Kourtney didn't lose ANY of her baby weight because it had only been SEVEN days since she pushed a bowling ball out of her vagina!

"They doctored and photoshopped my body to make it look like I have already lost all the weight which I have not...they did not have an exclusive!" said Kourtney.

Now hold the phone - are you saying they make it all up!!!! Hell to the YES!

Now no wonder a 15 year old girl feels disgusted by her body when she sees an image of a celebrity able to lose weight and look better then her seven days after having a baby. In NSW, The Children's Hospital reported a 270% increase in the number of children being admitted for eating disorders like anorexia, bulimia and binge eating.

Britney Spears tried to fight back against the pressure the media puts on women to look perfect by releasing the untouched images of her Candies shoot.

Does Britney look bad? No she looks banging, especially for someone with two children, but most of all she looks like a normal human being. The alterations in these images are tame compared to the following hack job done by Ralph Lauren....the perfect body is now one with no room for internal organs.

Below is a great video about how the images in advertising are slowly killing us - not an extreme point when models who are walking the runway are literally dieing to remain thin.

For those that haven't seen the below video made by Dove it is wonderful - a must to watch OVER & OVER because even though we do know images are retouched we still have a compulsive sickness to think "why don't I look like that?"

I know images I see are fake yet I still compare. I look at a flawless - poreless image of Rhianna and think, if I am the same age as her, same height why don't I look like that? Why aren't I that thin?

This issue is hard for men and apparently advertisers to understand. To comprehend that every single second of a woman's life she is presented with images of women that are FAKE. With by-lines that say "You can look like this too!" while the interview reveals all she does is drink eight glasses of water a day and eats whatever she wants....yet at no point does it reveal that the image was altered for five hours and sliced 75% of her body away.

Now when that is ALL you see EVERYWHERE you start to think that this is the norm - not only that but boys who have grown up in the photoshop realm look at real girls and think that they.are.fat!

This brave young woman nominated herself for the Photoshop treatment and it is both scary and fascinating watching how they simply shed the kilograms away.

So - will this landscape change, no, it has only gotten worse and will most likely continue to....but if we can just all remember that no matter the size, no matter the look, we are beautiful and can still give love - which really is the most important thing.

Watch this, smile and love your lady lumps.

So at what point will decide to stop wasting time worrying about how you look and worry about how you feel?

Harry Potter in one word

2011-05-29T12:31:00.003+10:00

Harry Potter is coming to a close and it goes down as the BEST book series I have ever read. A book that is able to appeal to a six years old school girl and a 35 year old lawyer is to me - a classic. It is a story for the soul, taking the reader on a glorious adventure, and isn't that the whole point of a book?

This video was made by the cast, they were asked to sum up the WHOLE experience in one word.

My first bad boy crush: A dedication

2011-05-29T12:03:00.008+10:00

Those who know me or any stranger who has asked, '"what are some of your all time favorite movies?" - my standard answer is of course GREASE! Grease did it first before High School Musical came and candy coated singing in movies - Grease made it bad ass.

I still to this day hold John Travolta dear to my heart because even with age he gets more and more scrumptious BUT today is not John's day. This post is to the other legend in that classic - no not Sandra Dee's sprayed on leather pants - Jeff Conaway AKA Kenickie!

He was the ultimate bad boy, I know if I was one of the Pink Ladies I would have for sure tapped that.

Unfortunately, Conaway passed away yesterday at the too-soon age of 60 after a battle with pneumonia, sepsis and drug addiction.

"Jeff Conaway was a wonderful and decent man, and we will miss him." said Travolta.

"A hickie from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card!" - Ain't that da truth!

A homage to the start of my bad boy obsession...

The funny thing about cats

2011-05-25T20:12:00.003+10:00

Cats can be evil. Don't get me wrong, my heart bleeds for the humane treatment of all animals. But I do own a cat, and she is a freak-show, however one thing that I do believe about animals especially cats, is they know when to be patient.

My brother has Down Syndrome and when he handles my darling bitch cat Kirri-Lee she allows him to do things that if i did - shit won't fly and I'll end up with a quick swipe to the arm.

Animals sense those they need to be careful with, those that need a little bit more love, as showed here.

While this cat is thinking - FML - he also knows that this baby will soon poo his pants and leave.

It's a period, not a vitamin B shot

2011-05-25T19:47:00.008+10:00

I think advertisers get somewhat confused as to what a period or wait for it – menstruating – really is. I’m certain the campaigns are led by the men and the women sit their shaking their heads in defeat. "Who will be the one to till him it isn't blue!? Not I!"

For actual real, living woman riding the crimson wave doesn’t actually look like this.

It feels more like this,

Now at what point did advertisers decide that women when they have their period want to wear white, run along the beach doing jumping leaps and wear their best lingerie?

I’m sorry – did they miss the lesson where you learn that a period is about shedding the inner layer of your cervix? Losing skin – from your internal organs – skin tearing away....what part of that screams “yes let’s play tennis!”

This incredible clip sums up the thoughts of every single post-pubescent woman.

So let’s get real, for me when I have my period I cry at the drop of a hat, I have moments where I hate everybody, I become excessively introspective and border on a manic depressant, I resemble a four month pregnant woman, I eat anything and everything while trying to pretend there isn’t a steak knife churning in my stomach.

So – to all the woman out there don’t feel ashamed for wearing your elastic-less undies, eating chocolate for each meal and hurling at the thought of movement and clothes with no stretch, embrace that your body is doing what it is designed to do, continue its cycle to bring life.

To all the boys – ignore every single advertisement you have ever seen and never EVER say “is it that time of the month.”

If you have a vagina it is offensive!

2011-03-30T20:15:00.002+10:00

Yes - that's right, not my words, no the words of written law. Vagina's are too offensive and need to be "tidy" to be shown. In other words, any vagina that goes out into the public sphere has to be digitally hacked. Parts of a woman's downstairs is completely removed to appear more nice....instead of normal. Basically the equivalent of photo-shopping a naked man's balls off because they simply are not aesthetically pleasing.

Woman in soft core men's porn magazines must emulate a Barbie dolls smooth spot between her legs, instead of god forbidding having any kind of labia. That dirty little word does not sit well with the big wigs so it is simply cut out, removed, scraped because it is deemed not "tidy."

Balls are not tidy but if we brushed them out of images imagine the up roar, imagine the people screaming how it is warping little boys image of themselves and how people are playing God. Yet when it is done to women, people muse silently and mummer discomfort.

Labiaplasty, or vagina surgery is on the rise because girls feel like they look abnormal because what they see down there isn't what they see in front of them. They feel less like a woman and more like a freak - all because they have a body part that Australia decided should not be shown.

It is time to no longer be silent about this issue. Mia Freedman has documented this issue which you can read about here and here on her blog.

We are women and we have labia's, deal with it.

I encourage everyone to watch the below video - it is an education we all need.

Hey America! Don't be hating

2011-03-18T20:44:00.004+10:00

Ok so what do these images below all have in common? Yes all fierce poses but no not quite that.

HOLD THE PHONE - they are either gay or play gay characters - HOW DARE THEY!

Open your eyes America the people you laugh along with on TV, giggle at their witty blogs and drink the wisdom they offer with their news broadcasts love the peen!

PENIS PENIS PENIS PENIS.

Now I'm sure your argument is "i love gays they are great - i even have a friend that's gay - but i just don't want to see that." Oh the old my friend is gay line. Kind of like the "No offence, but." No amount of cushion is hiding the fact 'you a homophobe!'

Now I wish I could tell people to stop their ways if it made me uncomfortable - their would be no male spitting, no girls in denim skits, no goth outfits, no red necks, no people that say you's, no Kanye West CAP use and no couples licking each others faces (icky icky poo) but oh that's right, i can't tell someone how to live their lives, what choices they make, how to express their love, what clothes to wear or what bodily functions to control.

Because there is this little thing called - human rights - the belief that all individuals have equal rights, equal opportunity, fair treatments and the right to live free of discrimination.

So suck it up America - stop putting "safety shields" in front of Elton John & his family -- seriously you let your child watch Jersey Shore where people drink, beat on each other and sleep with randoms, but god forbid they see a happy family!

You happily watch the Kardashian's swear and wax each others va-jay-jay but no you are not prepared to see two guys kissing in a club!

While you may not feel comfortable seeing two men in love or two men kissing, that's ok, but don't stop them from being who they want to be. Let them stand proud. Do I feel totally comfortable when I see two men kissing? No - because this natural relationship is hidden away from us, we don't see it on the TV, in the news, in the magazines or on the street. The more you see it as completely normal the more comfortable you will be, none of us were comfortable with Demi & Ashton getting it on but they have flooded the media and now we cool with it.

Oh and to open another can of worms - God loves all his children and if you don't that's your problem, God doesn't ask you to spread hate, but to spread love - He asks you to love thy neighbor, and that includes your sassy queen across the hall.

Oh and before you get your panties in a twist - Ellen's GAY!

I found him, Mr.Wedge

2011-03-16T20:12:00.005+10:00

Yes, I have found him, Mr. Wedge. I have announced my commitment to this dear old sole. We have enjoyed many, many nights together, for he can go all night long - unlike his sister, Miss. Stiletto.

That's right, I have sworn off high heels and will only wear wedges. I'm tired of being part of this sick lie us women generate that heels "are really really comfortable!" When a woman says her heels "are really comfortable" it simply means "I'm really surprised, my cuticles are still in tact!" and "yeah I don't feel like a Japanese Lilly Foot woman."

Enough, I won't be part of this conspiracy any longer! My other half was born in the 1930's (and only gets better with age!) by a genius Italian designer, but while they were made as orthopedic (wash your mouth out!) shoes they soon became the fashion must have. Obviously. They are comfortable and fashionable, 'nuff' said.

It is the wedge time, Sportgirl is dripping with options that make me feel like Mariah Carey and every other brand has got a line of wedge options. I am in a wedge wonderland - I just hope it lasts and we aren't left with cork options as our only choice.

I will love you till the day I die Mr. Wedge.

Please lust over my next wedge purchase from Lipstik, which you can purchase here.

You're not in a reality show

2011-03-15T21:03:00.000+10:00

I believe I live two vastly different lives. One in my head and one in the real world. The life in my head is somewhat how I picture a reality show would be, dramatic, awkward long pauses, full make in the day and little to no actual work done. Oh and I wear the most beyond attire.

Pause

Now my real life - wake up, go to work for 8 hours, come home, go to the gym, eat dinner, watch TV, go to bed - wash and repeat.

Nowhere does my real life scream reality show, yet I still believe I can somehow work in various aspects of a reality show life in with my real actual life.

Case in point, fashion. Reality show me thinks it would be a fabulous idea to purchase a red, floppy felt hat, as it is very J.Lo and will protect from sunlight, seeing straight and paparazzi. Real life me questions if this will be like when i purchased a red sequined berat? Answer, most likely. Considering I work 40 hours a week indoors, i really don't see where i would wear it. Well that's a lie, reality show me envisions me wearing it to hip cocktail parties in the park, picnics with fellow edgy fashionistas & those clubs wear girls wear doc martins & the boys wear jeans that turn their masculinity into more femininity.

Oh that's right that's not my life at all! [Insert awkward long pause]

Do you have trouble shopping for real life you?

It was a Monday & my brain checked out

2010-11-16T20:48:00.000+10:00

Break ups are funny things. They have the ability to turn a completely stable person to the point of no return. As I have experienced this past week.

I don’t mean to brag about my mental stability but if I were to have a diagnosis on my bodies psychology, words such as calm, patient and shows tendencies to “check out” of intense emotional situations would be thrown around. Yes, in other words I would be described as a clam.

I loved my clam. My clam was cosy and safe, nothing got us down, until last week. Some may be assuming this is my first break up but no, my heart has been ripped in two before and I reacted the way any normal 18 year old would. I cried, I ate chocolate and I ripped up old photos. All regular post break up behaviour and rather quiet boring to note.

But alas, as I have grown older I have not grown wiser. With the introduction of social media platforms, relationships have become rather tricky. When do you change your status to in a relationship, do you delete past partners, can you comment on the opposite sex’s picture or can you private message the opposite sex? This isn’t even taking into account the anxiety that comes after a night out and you wonder if any tagged pictures will be questionable.

Online social media has made relationships stressful! We can now track our partner’s viral footprint, being able to locate exactly where they are at any second. I guess Mark Zuckerberg did not believe in the old adage, ignorance is bliss.

Oh to face the simple problems Dylan and Brenda did, it makes you look at the home phone line as this sexy piece of history. While I have zero facts to base this on, I believe there would have been less straying back then. Why? There was no temptation, but with Facebook you can view and pounce on any girl or guy all from behind a screen.

So what did I do that was so crazy and why is Facebook to blame, plus how do I know how to purchase genital crabs? Stay tuned...

A poem with no rhyme

2010-11-15T19:59:00.000+10:00

Take me back to the time we met,

Where the wind was my friend and time grew with simplicity,

Let me see your eyes again,

With fleeting hope,

Naivety was your best friend,

Let me smell my burning youth and hear our futures roar with love,

Let our minds wonder with 'maybe's' and 'could we's' and the youthful illusion of perfection,

Let me feel your hand again,

It dripping in chance and seeking lust,

Let me float in your safety.

Take me back to the time we met,

Of playing with white flags and seducing hope...

A tale with no ending

2010-11-15T19:48:00.000+10:00

The tale of two young lovers is both luminous and painful. We all hide our first love deep within our souls. The heart crushes when we realise the feeling of youthful optimism dies and the perseverance to sustain the passion of true love is replaced with other checklists. It no longer becomes a love of two hearts but of bank balances or ability to conceive.

Painfully, uninhibited love, free of expectations and games seizes when we grow up and in our adult years we retort to childish ways when it comes to love and war. We all have our stories of the one love that could never survive in the realms of adult reality.

The meeting was nothing unusual but your effect was. Overwhelming and intoxicating your stare consumed me. It would have been poetic had I contained my composure but teenage hormones do not allow for such discreet reactions. You spoke and my heart choked. A burning fire raged inside me. You said your name was Tom, I asked about your accent, we laughed and the start of the love story began.

The bus was our time together. Your arms held me time as the rain slipped like honey down the windows. It started to fog inside and we wrote our love for each other on the screen. We thought it would last forever, but ‘TOM ♥ ELLA 4EVA’ was already starting to fade as the school grounds came into view.

We had about five minutes of uninterrupted bliss before the stares begun. My hand entwined in his and his smile wrapped me in safety. We were kidding ourselves if we thought this could last. But living in this blissful ignorance was all I could handle right now. Before we headed round the corner, before everything would change, I searched his eyes for hope, for hope we could make it. They were blank.

Our hands unhinged like strangers and he was gone. I watched him swagger to his side as I slowly walked to my area with shame. People suspected but no one said anything. Their stares said it all, their disgust, their loathing but they smiled at me and asked about my daddy and I told them about his where about’s and enquired about their daddy. We both hid our utter repulsion under sharp tongues and unfocused eyes.

Speaking Out

2009-01-05T17:47:00.001+10:00

I am going to be sick. My chest is starting to erupt in crimson, if only the excessive sweat from my arm pits would flow across my burning chest. He is still staring at me. Its hot, why isn’t the damn air conditioner turned up. He is still staring. I wonder why he isn’t hot. My hands slip on the chair handles, I can’t get my grip. Too much sweat. I can’t hold on. I can hear my heart. All I can hear is the thunderous beat and he is still staring. The room starts to spin. He moves. It’s about to begin. My heart pounds. Sweat drips. “So Chelsea you say you have issues with speaking about your emotions,” the counsellor says. Counsellors need to be paid more I think.

Once I almost killed my brother. It was fantastic. When he collapsed I cried. It was the best thing that could have happened to me. It proved I did have feelings. I realised I loved him. I realised I could love and feel. My friends and family say I’m cold hearted. I hate touching, when people hug me I tense up and think of every possible way to avoid the situation. I have severed friendships if the hugging level was too high. I don’t do the post sex snuggle. I don’t like to lay in each others arms listening to their heart beat. Gross.

I don’t think my counsellor needs to know I almost killed my brother and it filled me with elation. He might suggest another appointment. Instead he looks at me friendly and gently tries to knead information out of me. I hate him. I hate this room. I hate this chair. I hate talking. He keeps asking questions though. He is stupid. He keeps speaking. Words. Just words to me. I want to run. A sole tear runs down my cheek and I haven’t even spoken yet. I am exposed, vulnerable, overwhelmed. He hands me a tissue. The tear is joined by others.

I am the youngest of three children yet I defy the stereotype. I am neither the spoilt one nor the one that is lavished with attention. I rarely am asked for my opinion or encouraged to join in political debates. I sit and I listen and I nod. I am heard but not listened to. I am not expected to succeed but seen as the one constantly struggling. My sister is a child you brag about. She received an OP 1, was school captain and received a scholarship to university. She is now a practising lawyer in the top firm in the country at just 25. My parents coat themselves in her success whilst saying I’m doing the best I can. My brother has Down syndrome. My mum has sacrificed her life to him. I was born into a family that never really knew I existed.

I try to voice why I am like this but my voice trembles. I tuck my hands up into my jumper and scratch at invisible itches. He stares and he waits. Growing up my dad suffered from depression and went to stay at a mental health clinic, my sister become anorexic and my brother needed constant care, my problems were not life or death, my mother did not have time for them understandably. I rush through this sentence, avoiding his eyes. I stare at the wall, I get stuck half way through, a ball is in my throat and steals my words. I loose my momentum and fall. “It’s not your fault,” he says. I hate him a little less.

“Chelsea we don’t like to talk to you about that kind of stuff because you are like a rock,” was what my best friend said to me over a pumpkin risotto. “You’re so cold; you don’t understand emotional stuff….maybe that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend.” My friends constantly refer to me as the bitch, the cold one, the ice queen. They laugh and joke about it and I laugh along too while inside a little bit of me erects a new barrier.

I have worked so long at my wall, building it, making it strong and unable to be penetrated. People who are unaffected and don’t shed a tear are seen as strong and brave. They are confident and a tower of strength. What a lie. We are so afraid to feel, so afraid to show, so afraid of what will happen if we take a chance, so we continue building our wall. The wall of course takes casualties. That chance at love, at friendship. We sacrifice this for safety.

The tears won’t stop and I feel so stupid. I stumble trying to tell him I want to be able to hug my mum without tensing up with anxiety; I want to tell my sister I love her without my heart pounding in my ears. He looks and waits for me to continue but my words are replaced with tears. The tissue is soaking from being clenched in my hands. I worry he is watching my tears, watching my sweat, watching my fidgeting, I can’t hear him. Air struggles to get through my nose. All is struggling to get through to me, his voice, his advice, my mum’s touch, my friend’s laughs. I can’t feel it.

They all end the same way, relationships. They loose the battle they get tired of trying to break through my wall. They see no light at the end of the tunnel, they fail, and I win. Me and my wall win again. I lose nothing. I walk away with everything I brought it, they steal nothing, and I give nothing. The wall isn’t keeping me warm at night though.

I am an empty stream. Fragile. Exhausted. I have been with him for only half an hour but my body drips weak. I want to collapse on his couch but I need to escape from these pressurised emotions. I want to know I can change that I will get better. “It won’t happen over night Chelsea, you will have to start small, build your way up till you’re able to hug your friends without experiencing anxiety, visualise doing it first, see how you feel, what you experience,” he says. I feel so pathetic, like one of those people that have to take small steps till they can hold a handful of dust. I’m a freak.

I choose to emotionally shut down to not burden anyone with my emotions, then it was to avoid feeling vulnerable, exposed and to avoid getting hurt. Now it’s not a choice, now it’s paralysing. “Chelsea you appear to have an actual phobia of showing and discussing emotions and need to continue seeking help,” he says.

My name is Chelsea and I have a phobia, but I don’t want to talk about it.