Smack Dab in The Middle

Justice System

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 09:37:00 +0000

There are many injustices in the criminal system for victims and offenders. From a therapeutic point of view, it's almost harmful to encourage your victims to seek justice via a conviction. Ideally, we're after healing, whether it's through a conviction or not, is the victims choice. We encourage them to own the entire process, control information shared, support people or not, level and tenure of engagement, agreements, appointments the lot. The reason we encourage this is to enable them control back in their life again. As you can imagine, victims feel out of control during an assault. When counselors, family, parents, partners, police and other well-meaning people 'firmly encourage' conviction, or other action, they are inadvertently taking control from the victim - again.

Here are some reasons why we don't force our victims to seek criminal justice.

The differences between Offender Rights and Victim Rights:

Offenders can choose their own legal representatives
Victims do not have their own legal representative

Offenders can choose whether the case is heard before a judge and jury, or judge alone.
Victims have no say in whether the case is heard before a judge and jury, or judge alone.

Offenders can appeal against conviction or the length of sentence.
Victims have no right of appeal against a verdict or sentence.

Offenders must be informed of their rights.
There is no legislative requirement for victims to be informed of their rights.

Submissions can be made to lessen a sentence.
Victims can submit a Victim Impact Statement which explains the physical, emotional and financial impact of the crime.

Offenders can 'plea bargain' ie, plead guilty to a lesser charge.
Victims often left out of plea bargaining.

Offenders have the right to remain silent.
Victims can be subpoenaed and required to give evidence.

Offenders have a legal right to know the name of their accuser.
Offenders often have problems getting information about their case.

Offenders can contest Criminal Injuries Compensation Claim.
Victims can submit an application for Criminal Injuries Compensation.

Offenders are 'innocent, until proven guilty.'
Victims often feel as though they are 'guilty, until proven innocent'

(Victim Support Service)

Makes you think eh?

How will the system support you, or your loved one, if they ever become a victim?

80, 000 hits!

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 11:56:00 +0000

Thanks everyone for taking me past the 80, 000 hits mark. I ignored my own browser when I installed that code a couple of years ago, and I'm constantly amazed that my stat counter keeps ticking over, despite spasmodic posting and the very busy lives we lead.

Thanks :)

Side Effects

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sat, 11 Oct 2008 01:07:00 +0000

As most of you know, I work with victims of abuse. I have done since 1995, except for a 5 year break when I was writing government policy, working in recruitment of young people and other stuff.

I work with side effects a lot in my job. Side effects of abuse, specifically sexual abuse and they're horrible, but manageable effects. They're varied between social effects, physical effects, psychological effects and and more. They can include triggers, nightmares, dysfunctional relationships, power imbalances, intimacy issues and spiritual disillusionment.

There is also a different kind of side effect and one that I was discussing with a sister-girl the other day. It's the side effects that affect the children of social workers that work in the field of sexual abuse, predators and that kind of thing. It's basically over-protectiveness.

We were laughing about it on the phone but in reality it's quite serious depending on the extreme nature of the protectiveness.

My friend and I realised that we're both always hyper-vigilant about people that come into our daughters lives. This is why none of our children have met our respective partners until 'it's serious', I guess. We laughed that we try to NOT police check men we love because that's just not legal nor fair!

I laughed that my daughter hasn't had a photo taken with Santa since she was about 6 months old. In truth, it was because she's been terrified of him growing up and refused to go anywhere near the bearded dude.

Lisa said she's terrifed of her kids coming into contact with clowns which is sadly a typical myth about perpetrators. Sure, there has been famous cases of murder and offenders taking the character of bubble-blower, or clown but for the most part, I'm sure they're fine. I wouldn't leave my daughter with one mind you, but I'm sure they're fine! Mind you, can you imagine how brave safe men are these days to act as a clown at birthday parties despite the judgement he's likely receiving? Being watched like a hawk despite being a safe guy? Probably the same with male school teachers eh? Poor innocent men tarnished by the actions of a few others with dicks!

So, obviously we got onto the debate of robbing our children of typical child-hood events. I disagreed. I still let Carissa walk with a friend to the shop. I let her attend the Royal Adelaide Show with friends but prefer the bag-carrying Dad about 10 metres away keeping an eye on them while hiding behind the hot dog stand to avoid a chorus of 'Daaaaaaaaaaad. We'll be fine!!'

I am getting better. She's highly educated on this stuff "probably more than my friends" she says and her father has also enrolled her into judo so it's not just me that's concerned about her safety as a young woman today.

As each birthday comes and goes, you know, I congratulate myself silently. I congratulate and take my blessing that we've managed another year without being dangerously injured or having her safety compromised in any way.

It's certainly a side effect of my job and I still think it's a good side effect, not a bad one.

Do your kids/significant other suffer from side effects from your job?

example. If you're an accountant, are they all over-managed financially?

If you work in medical field, are you constantly over-checking them like a hypochrondiac?

I have a few posts up my sleeve today! Stay tuned.

All the best,

Missing Person

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 12:05:00 +0000

I'm so sorry to hear that a body near where Britt Lapthorne went missing has been found.

The identification of the body has not yet taken place, the news say and they don't know if it's male or female.

I am torn between hoping it's her to give her parents some closure and relief and of course to take her home... but then, it dashes all hope that she's been abducted and they may get her back with a ransom paid.

Poor people. It's just devastating..it's no surprise that I am always happy for friends to make it back safely in Australian shores.

I'm so worried about Carissa travelling when she's older. I think I may pack my bags with her and go too! As if she wants her old mother travelling with her, eh?

Over here in Australia, it's almost a rite of passage to pack your bags and travel the world, particularly UK and Europe. You get that out of the way before you fall in love and have children. I did it. My friends did it. We made it back alive.

I hope she simply went swimming and drowned as opposed to a horrible, violent death.

Poor thing. Poor parents.

Cremated, Thanks!

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 06 Oct 2008 02:11:00 +0000

Like many of you I'm sure, your dreams have varied between the ridiculous and the sublime so I hope you'll appreciate where I'm coming from this time. I don't really believe in posting about dreams but hear me out, mmmk?

Last night I dreamed I was already dead and I had to return to my suffering friend, Abi because she was so deeply buried in grief. she wasn't functioning. I was actually sitting on a see-saw when I got a paper note saying 'You're required for Abigail' and so I immediately left what I was doing and went to visit her in spirit. She was grieving and helping various friends with funeral arrangements. We talked like I was there in real life. We talked about my daughter and how she was coping and when the funeral service was scheduled. I confirmed I wanted to be cremated instead of buried and showed her where my organ donation cards were. When I asked how I had died, she said 'you choked' and then she got all upset. I wasn't upset. It just... was.

Abi was having a hard time dealing with it and to watch from a different perspective felt quite extraordinary. I tried my best to comfort her.

I was also able to visit my mother (who was still alive - freaky!) and my ex to see how he was dealing with my daughter's grief. They were all upset and Carissa had refused to speak for some time. She looked dishevelled and vacant. That image certainly broke my heart and I spoke with her too. She asked to come with me rather than stay which is a conversation I never thought I'd have with my daughter.

So that's about it. I woke up feeling a bit weird and jumped on the treadmill to work out my feelings. What a wonderful place the treadmill is! To think, ponder, reflect, daydream all while working out. I did a quick 3 kms this morning which doesn't sound like much... for me, it's amazing!

I'm also thinking of doing pilates. Any of you tried it? Had positive results?

Analyse the dream if you wish. It certainly got me thinking. I've been killed in my dreams before, attacked, raped, witnessed all of the above on others but never actually come back as spirit!

All the best,

Fake Tan Pleasantries

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 10:18:00 +0000

In Adelaide this week we're enjoying an extended break and my girl spent most of it with her dad and his family. It's the done thing and I enjoy my break, guilt-free. She has a great time and I have to say seems closer to him than when she was living with him! We're all happy.

When he text me to come and collect her from a mutual friends place, I was happy to oblige preferring my vehicle as an alternative to any drink-driving temptations in front of them. It IS a long weekend after all and in the spirit of an Aussie tradition, most of us have BBQ in the sun, get slightly sunburned and sink piss. Phil's choices are mostly responsible but I just have this deep fear that one day they'll make the wrong choice and my daughter would be hurt.

I got out of my car and txt Dad that I was out the front. Standing on the porch, I could hear Dad coming to the front. I looked at him and saw him meandering his 6ft 4 frame around a group of knee-high toddlers, babies all playing together in the hallway. He delicately tiptoed through them without one of them blinking an eyelash and he didn't tread on any toes, fingers or Lego. He's always been a gentle giant.

Then, he tests the door. With so many toddlers in the house it's understandably locked. He says 'oh, shit. Sorry. I'll get the key' and disappears. Carissa appears wearing her dads' football jacket, headband and looking sleepy from sitting in the sun all day and eating someone else's food. She smiles. I see and hear an unknown woman approach her grab her hand and say 'Seriously. If you need a hand with your dress, give me a call, okay? I'm really happy to help you out.'

The woman doesn't know I'm there. She's partially obscured by the stain glass door and I don't like to stand out in the open because I have my runners on and am all sweaty from a walk on the treadmill. These are great people but they're my ex-friends, not current friends.

Carissa seems a little embarrassed and says 'Yup. Great thanks. I will if I need to.' She looks at me with a silent look and says 'hey mum' which immediately prompts the woman to peer behind the stain glass window and say 'oh hey, you must be Carissa's mum!'

"Yes, Hi. I'm Cath" I say, smiling politely.

She's orange from too much self-tan and has peroxide blonde hair slicked back like Maggie Taberer. She also has a perpetual shocked looked on her face or over-waxed eyebrows. I can't tell. She looks me up and down and seems surprised. I wondered if she'd had Botox because she seemed unable to blink. Maybe she was expecting some old bitter slag instead of a young mum in work-out gear. I've got a natural work out flush to my face and long lashes still curly from last nights blues festival. I don't have any make-up on but I know I look natural and fresh.

"I'm Danielle, friends of Robbo's and Nicole" she offers.

"Nice to meet you Danielle! Seems like Carissa's had a lovely day. She always likes coming here."

I lovingly and protectively tuck a curl behind bub's ear. Then she dumped me with Danielle and took off to the car, giving Scottish terrier, Hamish an ear rub on the way.

Her father comes out and starts to tell me about their great weekend. I listen. I like talking with him about our daughter. He's the only person in the world that loves her like I do. He mocks me that her English, Grammer and Writing grades beat his Maths, Science grades this term. We feign a mock argument and Danielle seems astonished that we're not stabbing each other with an icepick.

Robbo appears and gives me an enthusiastic hug and cheek kiss.

"Wow, you look great Cath! Life's been treating you well, I see! Work busy?" he says.

We exchange pleasantries. I genuinely like Robbo and congratulate him on the birth of Matilda. He promptly disappears inside and produces Matilda for a squizz. She's beautiful, like her mother, Nicole. Robbo adds that Phil is still making my signature dish for BBQ's. I reiterate that I created that dish and that the ownership remains with me to laughs all around.

So Danielle seems to just fade away inside under the enthusiastic Robbo telling me that Carissa loved his honey and soy chicken shaslicks and that she also devoured his zucchini rissoles. It's a victory for sure; one that I share with Robbo and Phil. We're all laughing. Phil says 'When you swing by to pick up her bag, would you feed the cat for us? We're probably going to be quite late here. Just leave the key on the kitchen bench' and hands me the key and off we go.

I say to Carissa ' What did Danielle want to help you with, darlin?" I have to approach with caution to as to not arouse suspicion.

She replies..."Oh, she wanted to help me pick a formal dress for the social this year. She's really nice"

"Oh, thats nice of her. It's always nice to have a new friend, eh?" I say.

Now.. call me protective, crazy, jealous or whatever you will but I feel it is Carissa's parents who deserve the accolade of picking formal dresses. I'm more than happy to welcome besties to come shopping with us but hold the phone - who the hell are you Danielle?

I realise she's just being helpful to a teenage girl and really, yes, that's lovely but step away, girlfriend.

Dad and I have sat through the tears, pimples, custody, siblings, wedding, relationships, crushes, report cards, friendships, off-key singing, bath towells damp on the bed, puberty, moods, expense, school community, 10 c-section and more.......

To have some over-tanned bimbo try to steal this glorious FIRST from us, well I was tad miffed.

Rant over.

2000 bloggers

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 04:18:00 +0000

On March 2007, I discovered that my eye avator and blog had been chosen as one of 2000 bloggers profiles to make the 2000 blogger montage. Remember?

Well since then, I researched the project and I have found that the montage is now being used as a cover for a book and I managed to snaffle an image of it !

See if you can find my EYE! How funny. You never know where your stuff is gonna end up!

The original creator, Tino Buntic is now managing an entirely different website! I wonder if he knows? Surely he would...

So there ya go.

Adelaide Blues Festival

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 05 Oct 2008 01:12:00 +0000

The Gods came together last night and aligned an abandoned old smashed up theatre, a clear starry night and good vibes to make the Adelaide Blues Festival a complete success. Nestled in Playhouse Lane, Queens Theatre was the perfect junction for blues fans of all ages to come and watch a star line up of blues and soul perform for Adelaide.

Sponsors including Stax Coffee (Thanks to Paul!) Rossi Boots, Rip It Up, Derringers, Ed Castle, The Modern Home and many more assisted the Blue Pantz Production team to showcase amazing blues artists including Rob Eyers, Sweet Baby James, Suzannah Espie (fantastic!), Chris Wilson, Nick Kipridis and Dave Blight. (I loved Nick)

Pictured Nick Kipridis on guitar and Dave Blight.

I particularly wanted to see Suzanna Espie and I'm glad that I battled my midget-frame through the tall crowd to see her. She was just sensational and had the crowd roaring in delight at the end of her set. I'm certainly glad she chose Blues over Country or my ears would have been bleeding!

Nick and Dave had a easy familiar way about their sharing the stage and they pulled off some fantastic oldies including an unusual rendition of 'I heard it through the Grapevine' and "House of the Rising Sun' which had people singing along. Three back from the front, I was delighted to see a VERY OLD woman bopping her head chicken style to these tracks. I swear she was about 80 and I wanted to get her a chair. Put your feet up old lady!!

All in all, it was a delightful night. I split before the awards were finalised but the crowd was thick and bonded in the glow of a blues night. It really was sensational. Credit to Andrew Dundon, Rob Eyers, Chris Leese and Tanya Schroder and recruited family and friends for pulling it all together for the blues lovers of Adelaide. Fingers crossed, it'll be a regular event and will clearly place Adelaide on the Australian blues scene permanently!

Pussy photo

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 06:48:00 +0000

Somewhere in this sun-beam is a cat. He's so fluffy it's hard to make out which end is front here!

This is my boy playing on his super-dooper cat scratchy pole thingy. It cost close to $200 bucks and has 5 levels for him to skip between, dodge, play and sleep. It's fun watching him climb it!

Worker, Interrupted

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 29 Sep 2008 11:32:00 +0000

I am honestly running myself into the fucking ground!

SO FREAKIN' BUSY!

On the home front, everything is just madly, beautifully fantastic with me and my girl. She's hilarious and we laugh and laugh. I have to say she is the one person that can make me laugh until I have tears coming down my face. We have the same sense of humour and she just cracks me up! Her dad has been fantastic as well visiting frequently. He continues to support us both in all sense of the word. Recently he said 'You should keep an itemized account of what you spend on bub so I can reimburse you" and then he said 'actually scrap that. You shouldn't have to ask for money. I'll just give you cash regularly" which is very nice! I never ask him for cash but I will offer to split bigger expenses. Most times he just says 'nah, it's okay. I'm happy to get this" and that's that. It's working well for everyone. Bub is less moody and is getting praise from school about her contentment and positive frame of mind at work. It's paying off. I'm glad Phil is getting some peace from the decision for bub to reside here full-time.

Our neighbours have been become really great friends of late. We're hanging around together alot. It's great fun. We're going shopping, drinking, cooking alternative nights and having BBQ's.

They've given bub a beautiful accoustic guitar. She's delighted and starts lessons after school holidays. The school provide teachers. Another beautiful benefit of a private school... they're just brilliant. I'm a convert!

Workwise, I've been rushed off my freakin' feet. I recently updated my qualification to teach child protection behaviours and I've been rushed off my feet since. I'm in demand to run groups as part of my agency and lately have received alot of private interest as well!

I've also been to different workshops and seminars about offenders and I have to say that while it's not a new area for me, I am finding a new interest in offenders. They're quite fascinating and disgusting at the same time. I am interested to learn the difference between Chester the Molester and a p'dophile. There are so many different psychological types!

So anyway, I've been approached to run some accreditated training and what not and I'm thinking of getting an ABN number and being my own boss. The money would be spasmodic at first but any extra money is good for little ole me. If you have any idea how I should set this up, with a tax-savvy approach please email me! I would continue to work full time by the way and provide training out of hours or during a flexi-day. I totally love public speaking and training and receive glowing feedback about my expertise, knowledge. One woman recently wrote 'bold, bright and beautiful' on my evaluation form!! What a boost to the ego!

Education wise, I have completed the required documentation to enrol in the double degree. It would be a social work and social planning degree. I know that I'd get accepted. I know that I have the knowledge and experience to complete it. I am however relunctant to have fortnightly HECS payment deducted from my salary at this point. I have 6 k in debt to pay off FIRST and then, I may look at enrolment. Lousy 6k but it's got me by the short and curlies especially in the growing interest rates.

Health-wise, I'm delighted to confirm that it is NOT gluten that is affecting my stomach. My intolerance is MILK, lactose, cream and all things with lactase in it. I have my life back finally!! My botty is no longer stinging every single day and I'm no longer holding soft toilet paper to ransom in my loo weeping into the puppy designs. Honestly, if any of you have food intolerances, you know what I mean about being controlled by your cinnamon star. It's also a bonus to not have to sift through ingredients to find gluten. Milk solids is much easier to eliminate.

I'm also trying to fill in the chapters of a little book that I'm writing. I have sought feedback from different circles and I do get a positive response. I really need to finish it and get an agent to seek out publisher's opinions for me!

So that's me in a nutshell.

PS. For those of you who remember Mr R, you'll be delighted to know that he recently was incarcerated as a result of his meeting with me and others. He got more than a few years which is relatively good sentence in the grand scheme of things. I'm just rapt that he'll have that conviction over his head for ever and his teen victim can start her journey of healing!

I'll write more soon!

Romantic Teen

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 12:58:00 +0000

So, it was a beautiful weekend in Adelaide. The sun shone bright for the majority of the weekend. Crazy fit people ran 12 kms and people everywhere got their washing done and dried without laying it in front of the heater!

We went to see a chick flick together at Mitcham and it was delightful. My girl laughed all the way through it and then wanted to act it out in real life even wanting to move to England! uh. no.

She's such a romantic though. I hope she meets someone equally romantic when she starts dating.

Her dad and his wife went to Melbourne this weekend. She's a strong Geelong fan and no doubt they had a lovely time. Bub will probably catch up with him during the week.

So, how was your weekend?

Interactive Story

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 00:44:00 +0000

He didn't normally fuck anything that came into sight. He had never considered himself a slut.

He just couldn't resist this sexy blonde minx that had flirted with him in the bar last night. He hoped she hadn't noticed the tan line on his ring finger and looked nervously at her while she slept.

He did love his wife and the kids well, they'd be better when they were older. His wife, Karen was a bit dull. When she smiled it was ugly and sometimes he'd avoid being nice to her to save himself the view.

Later, the minx showered and left. Thankfully she hadn't asked for his number or provided hers to him. It would have only gone in the bin anyway.

He heard his wife's car pull into the drive-way as the coffee plunger started to slide. His heart sank when he saw her.

Her hair was all tousled and her clothes were visible crushed and unkempt.

She breezed in smelling of men's aftershave and sex and dropped her hand-bag casually by the front door with a smug 'just been fucked' look on her face.

She found him in the kitchen. His eyes nervously flickering from the coffee to her.

She said.....

Interactive stories are written by you, via comments. To play, you need to read the comments written so far and add your own piece of story-line. You can use whatever characters, genre, scenes your mind can create for you!

End of the World

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 12:09:00 +0000

So, this week the news included the European collider mulit-million dollar experiment in physics to re-create 'The Big Bang" which is said to have created the universe.

The world met this news with mixed reaction. Some of the reactions were bad and some were positive. Scientists creamed their pants and greenies wept into their lentils. Some parents encouraged their children to write to the managing scientists begging for their lives.

There was the usual over-dramatic population that rushed out and bought tin-food and grabbing their spawn hid in the bomb shelter that Daddy's daddy made back in the olden days. One young woman tried seeking peaceful advice about it from her Indian family was so distraught at the end of the world, she committed suicide. What a tragedy. No amount of 'Don't be silly, it'll be alright" will ever comfort someone so distressed.

So my question to you......

Picture yourself if you please you're sitting in your comfortable lounge chair. Your pets, children, mates or other half are sitting around you - life is normal. You've got a report due next week and you still hate the reality TV that's invaded the telly. You feel a headache coming on and think you probably should stop drinking beer/red wine for at least a week to get your body detoxed.

The news comes onto the telly and you shush the room so you can listen. The news reader announces in tears that the world will soon be smashed to smithereens from a collision between another planet. There is no mechanical or scientific intervention that will save Earth. People are screaming in the streets. The dogs are going mental. You feel the dread in your stomach that this is the real thing.

What would you do? Last meal? Last phone-call? Who would you ring and what you would you say?

Would you ring your mongrel boss and tell him you screwed his wife last year at the Christmas party? Would you tell him that you snorted coke off his secretaries norks the Christmas before that?

Would you just get incredibly drunk and wallow in self-pity and delirious babbling like the homeless people you used to judge?

Look forward to hearing your responses! Make me laugh!

Pin Stripe Prison

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 23:30:00 +0000

Recently I heard an interview on Triple J (the best radio station in the country) about a fabulous book titled "Pin-Striped Prison" by Lisa Pryor. Lisa's book talks about the best and brightest of Australian students being seduced and lured into high-flying corporate law firms and management consultancy firms with office-views to die for. Coupled with high-level salaries, the kids approach 30 with 70 hour weeks, debt to match the salary and feeling just a tad more than unfulfilled.

Read about the book HERE.

Listen to the radio interview HERE.

My question to you...

Are you married to your job? Do you work to live, or live to work? Does your social life suffer as a result of your work commitments?

Would you make a dramatic change from your current salary if you were THAT unhappy even if it meant dropped a figure from your salary? Is your debt matched to your salary and therefore a ball and chain to the Firm?

I earn 66.7 k. It's pretty good money for me and my lifestyle. Last night I was drinking with my neighbour and her partner who earns 224 k. He is so stressed maintaining his several businesses including an international school, a pub and a couple of other smaller projects. He was flying to China the next day (a regular trip, he says) and he looked as though he hadn't slept a week.

But, he drives a beautiful sports-car, lives in a lush city serviced penthouse apartment in the city and has cash to burn.

Is all this worth it?

What say you?

Obituaries and Eulogies

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Thu, 11 Sep 2008 08:34:00 +0000

Following on from this horrible death theme I have going... I've got to think about obituaries. I am not ashamed to tell you that I like to read the obits in the newspaper. I have my father's eulogy as well and it's a well written piece.

So, if you could write a few words about yourself, what would you write?

Eulogy by definition is: a speech or writing in praise of a person or thing, esp a set oration in honour of a deceased person.

Obituary by definition is: a notice of the death of a person, often with a brief biographical sketch, as in a newspaper.

My obituary would be....

Catherine Smack

dob 21/07/72 dod 11/09/2008 (36)

Loved mother of Carissa

Loved daughter of Judy

So, you choose.

Write your own eulogy or obit either here or on your blog. Alert me though so I can com and have a nosey!

Spooky? Weird? yup. Hard? yes! Go on, try it.

Is it bad luck to write your own obit/eulogy? Bah... I'm not superstitious. Are you?

I'll write my own eulogy in my next post!

Online Loss

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Tue, 09 Sep 2008 02:05:00 +0000

Following the post about an old trivia acquaintenance dying, I found myself thinking about you lot - the good ones and the pests. In the past, I've seen other bloggers pass away (thinking about Hunnii) a friend of many that lost her battle to cancer.

I also remember another person in New Zealand that passed away from a heart attack. He was probably the brightest person I'd ever met and constantly dazzled the room with his brilliance despite only being 25 years of age. He had talked with me on the phone a few times, planning a trip around the world, all with a horrible disability. He had such charisma.

So here's the question. If you knew you were going to die, how would you manage your blog?

Would it sit in cyber-space leaving readers always wondering what happened?

Would you give someone the password and ask them to write your obituary on there?

How would you feel if one of your blogmates passed away?

Do you think any guilt/sadness is less of an impact because you may not have ever met them in the real world?

What are your thoughts?

take care of yourself!
C

Amicable

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 03:17:00 +0000

Very sad to report that one of my longest online friends died recently. His name is Tim and I met him back in 1997 in Excite Trivia. Over the years he talked lovingly of his ill wife and told me about his love for dancing. Tim was an old school gentleman and quite right-wing in his beliefs.

He died this month after a long battle with cancer.

It was lovely to see so many old-school trivia people pass their respects at his online guest book attached to the newspaper obit even though most of us had not ever met Tim in real life he had shared a piece of us all I guess.

RIP Amicable.

Touching base

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 02:48:00 +0000

Hi everyone,
I know I haven't been around lately. I've been inundated with referrals for work and trying to compile my personal competencies statement for my uni application.

Been keeping up with all the comments around the place though including some nasty ones from people that despite their best efforts can't seem to forget me. I'm so flattered - thank-you! :)

There is an amazing documentary on ABC now so I must dash.

Back soon!

Dinner with Jack

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 03:20:00 +0000

Hi everyone,

I had some requests for a follow-up post to Ann and Peter, the Oedipus client and the prostitute that I posted October 2007. There were some readers who found the original 'Whore' story a bit rough for them and for that, I apologize. I never mean to offend people but writing dark stories is quite interesting for me. If you want to re-read the post that started it, then please click HERE.

For those that can deal with the rest of it...I plan to tease out the characters one by one. Let me know what you think. These stories aren't as graphic as 'Whore"

xx Smack

After she heard Peter leave the Hotel, Ann had picked up her shoes and left, closing the door behind her. She threw the shoes and her bulging handbag onto the leather seat of her vintage BMW. She loved to drive barefoot as it reminded her of the carefree country lifestyle she remembered as a child. She opened the sun roof and felt the wind pick up her hair. The moon beams had cast a hue of ashen blue on the interior of the car.

While navigating the traffic, she checked her phone. Jack had text her more than once wanting to catch up for dinner. Lucky Peter had left promptly, she thought. She had time to get home and shower and meet him for late night supper. She put her foot down taking advantage of the empty streets and swung the car into her drive-way less than 15 minutes later.

Jiggling with her keys, she was greeted by her cat, Max, who was weaving in and out of her ankles in an attempt to coax dinner from her. She mentally scolded herself for leaving the cat out before her regular appointment with Peter.

Max' incessant mewing was silenced with a fresh batch of rabbit she'd picked up the previous day from the markets. She gave him a quick rub behind the ears and headed across her apartment.

After lighting a scented candle in the bathroom, she stepped into the shower and the impact of the sharp streams of water brought peace. As she worked up a lather with her honey and oatmeal body scrub, she felt the pain of Peter's life wash away from her skin. Checking her body, she was relieved to see that no visible stain had been left by his harsh slaps. She didn't mind the role-playing of his obviously demented mother but she did not approve of him damaging the merchandise. Other people paid for the product and she had to maintain the quality of her body.

She started to daydream about Jack, her new admiring friend from the hiking club. She was enjoying his good company whether he was tossing coriander pesto through pasta or taking her hand to guide her through the long-hikes they enjoyed together.

She had resisted his physical advances until now reluctant to invest her personal space until she was sure he was worth it. Turns out he was proving his worth day to day. Her lips curled into a small smile as the water streamed over her long hair.

The Wife, Glenda

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Mon, 25 Aug 2008 00:20:00 +0000

She heard the door slam and jumped, startled. She was making bread and had enjoyed the peace without him sulking around the house. Although the home was huge, it was too small to contain her displeasure about his unbecoming activities.

With an exaggerated sigh, she rolled her eyes as she kneaded the dough and switched on the bread-maker. She hated it when he was out so late because she knew he was visiting whores again. God would not look kindly upon him and nor should she as a follower of His Love. Her hands nervously fluttered to the gold Cross around her neck. Her mind beseeching Him for guidance and strength.

"Glenda? Are you home?" he called out to her, squinting in the dim lights before flicking a switch on illuminating the foyer of the palatial home.

She wiped her perfectly manicured hands on her freshly starched apron and fixed a wifely smile on her face before rushing out to welcome him home her heels providing the click-clack rhythm on the marble floors. Her curt blond hair barely moved because of the hair-spray that held it firmly in place.

"Peter, darling. How was your day?" she poured her words over him like honey as she took his coat and bag storing them neatly in the corridor cupboard. If she leaned any closer to him, she would smell the whore's perfume and she instinctively checked the front door was locked and if any neighbours had seen him come home so late.

Aware of the mixed aroma of latex, sex and perfume, Peter replied with 'Oh. There you are. Yes, good day. Mrs Robinson sends her regards to you.'

Satisfied that he'd kept her attention at bay for a few moments, he plodded upstairs mumbling something about a shower. Ignored as usual, she smiled sweetly and called to his back as he descended the stairs. "Oh did she? How lovely. I shall have to call her tomorrow to ask about her son. Did you know her son is starting a medical degree, Peter? Did she tell you?"

The bedroom door answered her with a gentle thud.

"Alright dear. I've made your favourite bread and butter pudding for dessert! I know you've been having a hard time at work so I made it especially for you, Peter.....' her voice trailing off as she assumed her role in the kitchen.

She's never satisfied unlike Ann he said to himself as he felt the warm water cascade over his shoulders, thoughts of his mother permeated his relaxed post-sex stupor and he clenched his teeth and concentrated in an effort to free himself of her memory. He hated that Mother would invade his private thoughts in the shower.

'I didn't want to hurt you baby but you're pretty when you cry' His mothers' words kept slapping his heart like an audible attack of his senses. He watched the water flood at his foot making it's way towards the drain and likened the movement to his ever-increasing fear of failure.

Downstairs, Glenda set the table despite knowing that Peter would not eat with her. The bread and butter pudding was almost ready and would hopefully coax him to the table for a brief chat about her church group and the ladies meeting she'd attended earlier that day. She was delighted to organise the church fete approaching and felt proud that such an honour had been bestowed upon her.

Despite God's preferences, she knew Peter would retire to his study for the night. Even the study was more of a priority in his life than his long-suffering wife. Sometimes he slept in there on the old leather sofa she'd tried to dispose of many times. She knew Peter had bed many women on that sofa during his med-school days and she was constantly reminded of this every time she cleaned the study. She muttered some ungodly words about sluts and filth as she scrubbed and disinfected every surface - twice.

Daddy had said that life would sometimes be hard with a man who had come into God later in life. She knew she had to help her husband see the light and guide him towards a better path of spiritual fulfillment.

Besides she thought, I've already let the man between my thighs as is my duty within the sanctity of marriage. I'm not walking away from any of God's creatures especially the top Neurosurgeon in the country.

Glenda enjoyed the society image of her husbands unquestionable reputation as a top surgeon and the spoils that were extended to her as a result of the money he earned. Glenda knew he was visiting the whores in the next town and at first, she was revolted at his behaviour. She turned the photo of her father over and whispered her curses so the Lord wouldn't hear her and stamped her foot at the risk of their community standing being compromised.

Then over the years that followed, she came to realize that as long as someone else was sucking his dick, she wouldn't have to touch that disgusting thing.

Rarely did he nudge her and tell her to roll over so that he could assume the position he preferred. She felt like a dog when he mounted her. He grunted like an old man she once knew and she froze lest he interpret her struggles as enjoyment and approach her more often!

Afterwards, she would scrub his scent from her body and ring her Daddy to reassure him that she was being a good and dutiful wife as he had raised her to be.

Great Sex

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 12:11:00 +0000

From Guest Writer, Evan.

I want you to remember some great sex. I hope this isn't difficult (if it is, I hope this post may help a little).

I want to talk a little about what I think makes for great sex. It isn't as straight forward as it seems: Most of us have fond memories of adolescent fumblings - would we want that kind of thing now? I certainly wouldn't - so why the fond memories?

On TV a while ago there was a series where a woman was interviewed about her experience with a male prostitute. (My guess is it would have been considered sleazy if it was a male interviewed about his experience with a female prostitute - but that's the subject for another post.) Her comment was: He knew the right buttons to press, but she wasn't sure if she'd do it again. The intriguing question is, "Why not?" Apparently her orgasm(s?) were satisfactory.

I think great sex is about authenticity. Ordinary sex can be lovely of course - it is a very pleasant way to spend time (I'm not trying to set up some ludicrous ideals - which just get in the way of our pleasure).

The first requirement of authenticity is awareness. A lover who goes through a fixed routine isn't the most alluring prospect. We want someone who knows what we are wanting and can adjust to accommodate this - as our arousal rises. We want someone who can touch us as we want to be, who can touch firmly or gently, lingeringly or lightly and fleetingly. And who can adjust the way they touch to where we are.

As lovers we aspire to be responsive and in tune with our partner. Sighs and moans of satisfaction from our partner are enjoyable. We don't just want awareness in our partner we want to be aware of them and their desire too. When we and our partner are in tune with ourselves and our partner, this can be fabulous sex. Awareness makes for great sex.

The next requirement is personal presence - a certain rawness goes with intimacy. Feeling lust is great, seeing another with lust in their eyes for us can be delightful too - but something happens when it is mutual. Awareness is great, but personal presence adds something more.

Knowing that my partner wants me - and takes delight in satisfying me - adds another dimension to the fucking. Telling my partner how much I want them - and what I want to do to them can add to my own arousal as well as their's.

Intimacy means being in touch with our own pleasure and expressing it freely - as well as enjoying our partner enjoying themselves and letting us know that they like what we're doing. This requires a vulnerability - to not hold back and to give everything we have - this uncompomising giving means we are vulnerable; not guarding ourselves and pretending.

That good fucking is about authenticity and vulnerability explains those times when we start with other emotions and end up turned on. Comforting our partner when they are sad, or the closeness of being angry. Sadness and anger are hardly sexy - but the genuineness of the relationship can lead to good sex. Some people need to angry to be genuine - and so make up sex is the best sex they have. With the anger comes genuine meeting - and getting in touch with who their partner really is: which includes their sexuality. Withdrawing into politeness and civility is no recipe for mutually enjoyable orgasms.

Great fucks are about authenticity (awareness+personal presence). And personal presence is sometimes more important than even awareness - our fondness for those adolescence fumblings is probably about the vulnerability and rawness of the experience. (At least for me, it wasn't the skill of the loving - perhaps others were more fortunate than I.) Naturally we want a lover who is skilful - who knows what to do and how. We also want a lover who we know is fucking us - not dreaming of someone else or simply pushing the physiological buttons (as delicious as this can be).

So, I think great sex is about being willing to be authentically present with our partner - delighting in expressing our desires and satisfying them.

Let me know what you think? What makes for the best fucking for you? Which sex do you remember as extraordinary? Let me know in the comments - remember there is an anonymous option.

Evan writes a blog, www.wellbeingandhealth.net, which covers the physical, emotional, mental, spiritual and social aspects of health. (He rarely writes about sex on it.) In early October Evan is opening a membership course called Living Authentically. It is about authenticity as the true path to lasting satisfaction. You can find out more about it on this page.

Ew...

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 09:18:00 +0000

Two female northern suburbs slappers go into a David Jones store, walk up to the
perfume counter and pick up a sample bottle.

Shazza sprays it on her wrist and smells it:

"That's quite noice, innit, don't ya fink Cheryl?"

"Yeah, what's it called?"

"Viens a moi."

"VIENS A MOI, what the fark does that mean?"

At this stage the assistant offers some help.

"Viens a moi, ladies, is French for "come to me".

Shazza takes another sniff and offers her arm to Cheryl, saying,

"That doesn't smell like come to me, does that smell like come to you,
Cheryl?"

Agreement

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 06:00:00 +0000

Thanks everyone for your emails. I hope I didn't miss anyone explaining why I'd taken a brief hiatus from the blog-world and closed my blog! You guys are so considerate and thoughtful. I even had someone suggest that I had been harassed out of blog-world, no no no. Not at all. No one had access by the way. I received some emails saying 'please! Let me in!" but I just wanted to let you ALL know that no one had a special pass or anything. I didn't even open it myself!

I had a chat with my girl about trust and fictional writing. We agreed that it was not cool to visit mum's online confessional when she's already asked that I don't visit her Myspace page. I likened the two about privacy and asked her to respect mine too.

I received over 40 emails from you all offering advice on how to migrate to word-press, set up a new URL within blogger, advice about trust/privacy and advice on using a different browser and of course, advice about sex and 'why hide it from her' kind of emails. Some people said 'she'll still find you' and another suggested asking her to use a specific browser (thanks Rups) and basically I ended up doing a combination of this great advice and keeping my original url. I've had this url since 2003 and have grown quite attached to it. Foolish, eh?

I do educate my girl on some things related to the adult world but my writing is completely inappropriate for her to be reading. She honestly said she'd read two posts but neither of them were of a sexual nature.

I have much to tell you.... stay tuned!

And again, thanks for your support!

xx

Adelaide Blues Festival

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 06:52:00 +0000

Music Music Music really does make the world go around. If you're not tapping your finger on the steering wheel, you're absent mindedly singing a tune you heard 'somewhere' but can't place it!

We all have CD's we don't listen to much because well, life gets busy with the kids and paying the bills. So when I can afford to go out and have a good time with friends, it frustrates me and makes me feel as old as dirt when I seem to be surrounded by kids who are wearing their skirts too high and where most of the crowd look like a school formal.

I'm delighted to announce that the Adelaide Blues Festival is bringing some maturity and soul to Adelaide.

For years, Adelaide has watched our interstate mates showcase the most brilliant Blues artists, but no more!

The Juke Joint at Queens 2008 is a one night only extravaganza that Adelaide has not seen before and will likely not see again.

Coupled with amazing blues artists like Chris Wilson and Sweet Baby James, you should dust off your comfortable dancing shoes and get a babysitter in advance for the 4th October event at the Queens Theatre.

Tickets are a measly 16 bucks and you can read all about it HERE!

Seriously. Treat yourself. Go for a night out you won't forget.

Miss E - if you want to come with, please let me know and you can join my group and bring T if you wanna!

Simon's Cat

miss.smack@gmail.com (Ms Smack) — Sat, 02 Aug 2008 02:44:00 +0000

As a rule, I don't like You Tube clips on blogs. I think they clog up space where words are meant to be but these made me laugh aloud. They won awards in UK and I reckon they're funny. Cat lover or not, check them out, eh? xx Smack