The battle of the sexes explained...just never, ever mention the nail!

Planes, brains, rebellions and masquerades...how does the kid of a troublemaker rebel?

OK so again, so much for the promises to write more regularly...suddenly it's been 1+ weeks and I haven't done a thing. It's been a pretty eventful time too, and so much to say! I have been on 'holidays' since Thursday morning and after carefully schooling our receptionist that the correct answer to any inquiry about me was "Rebecca who?" I have managed to successfully sleep in, watch lots of movies and....yeah well that's pretty much it.

Oh except for a lovely colleague who stuffed up the time difference and rang me at 3:30 AM the other night/morning. Yeah, that was fun.

I also have to throw in...damn you Tom Cruise. Damn you. You were actually really good in Rock of Ages and that's just not on. I tried really, really hard to dislike you in it because let's face it, you're weird and creepy, but you were great. Which makes me dislike you more.

Anyhoo...moving on...

So, I remember a conversation between Cathy and myself many years ago speculating on how the offspring of former rebellious troublemakers would turn out. I mean, would they be a bigger ratbag than their parent, or would they 'rebel' by sporting short back and sides and making a name for themselves in, say, the police or something equally horrifying like that?

So it comes to pass: despite all my teachings to dance to the beat of your own drum and the influence of my own...well...let's just say nuttiness and be done with it...my son is about to turn 13, has entered high school, and contrary to his former troublemaking mother (now cleverly disguised as a responsible, tax paying adult...the 'responsible' and 'adult' are debatable, but I do pay my tax), has just been accepted into an Accelerated Academics Program because he has been identified as a 'thinker'.

My old school principal is choking on her tea as I write this.

Take that Mrs Hancock.

Now I wasn't a really 'bad girl' at school, I had perfected the innocent 'who me?' look that had all the teachers telling me I should choose better friends and not be influenced so easily. But if there was a rule I had to see how far I could bend it without actually breaking it and I should have gotten an A+ in my ability to weasel out of trouble with my wide-eyed 'I didn't know' look. Teachers despaired because I simply phoned it in, and much to their disgust still did pretty well. School was a social activity for me (yes with those 'bad' friends who I still love today!) and I was far more interested in gossiping about last weekend and making plans for this weekend to really care what X equalled.

I think the term 'has brains, requires application' was patented for me.

And so #1 (and only) son followed in my footsteps up to grade 7 when inexplicably something changed and he became...dare I say it...a nerd! Or 'nutbag nerd' as he prefers as he hasn't lost a whit of his individuality despite suddenly paying attention in class and enjoying being the best at things.

So there you are. #1 nerd son is destined to finish uni before I do. I can just feel it. And I really couldn't be prouder, even if it does mean I'm now officially the dumbest resident in this house.

Anyhoo, onto another subject...

Last weekend my wonderful boss invited me to the Careflight Gala Ball here at the Empire Theatre in Toowoomba.

Careflight, for those who don't know, provides emergency medical support and transfers to hospitals for those living in more remote locations, or for us in Toowoomba who have hospitals but may have to go to Brisbane for more emergency situations that our facilities may not be able to cope with.

Last year one of my colleagues and friends had a terrible accident and had it not been for the quick response of Careflight getting her to Brisbane for treatment, I shudder to think of the outcome. Fortunately, although it's been a long road, she is doing phenomenally and is likely to be dancing on tables at the next Ball for sure.

So it's an organisation that's pretty close to my heart, and those of my company, so when the Ball came along my generous boss grabbed a couple of tables and invited those who have been friends with or had offered support to our friend during her recovery.

Look, I'll admit it, personally I'd go to the opening of an envelope if it involved a pretty dress (I think I may have said this before but it bears repeating) but this was pretty special as we were personally involved with someone that Careflight had a huge hand in saving.

And what a spectacular night. In my former life as an events organiser, I have put together some of these before but I must say this masquerade ball put any previous event to shame. More than 500 masked guests in a spectacular historic venue...add alcohol, more than 100 silent bids which were placed by using personalised cards and chip readers (much merriment when someone stole someone elses and made a bid on Vanessa Amorosi's CD)....

Fabulous night. I love a good masquerade and this was a spectactular one.

I don't know how they're going to top this one next year but I'll be making sure I'm there.

OK so a long weekend still stretches out ahead...and in unlikely for me fashion, I have managed to fill it up like crazy. Later today we're heading for Bris-Vegas to catch up first with some friends I haven't seen since I moved to Tooowoomba followed by a 'sleepover' with Cathy for no other reason than 'why not?'. Tomorrow I'll be seeing my sister and her adorable family and then back home...followed by a visit from one of E's old Brisbane mates on Monday who is spending the weekend up here. Exhausted just thinking about it!

So what do you have planned this weekend? I've put some photos of my 'ball' experience for your enjoyment/ridicule! Have at it.

Bec xx

Clothes and jewellery to die for...180a Latrobe

 So I don't usually editorialise on my blog or blatantly try to flog products to my readers.

However sometimes exceptions must be made and this is definitely worth an exception!

My wonderful and exceptionally talented friend Kathy McLay has been an incredibly artistic designer of jewellery and sculpture for many years and has enjoyed some tremendous successes. Trust me, her designs are exquisite. And if you don't trust me, check out her website by clicking on her name above and you'll be a Kathy convert too, clamouring for her to design you something special.

So it is quite fitting that she has teamed up with another equally talented textile and fashion designer, Katelyn Aslett and together they have launched their store at 180a Latrobe Terrace in fabulous Paddington, Brisbane.

And I'm drooling.

Just one look at the pictures below makes me want to sink into debt just to walk in and buy everything. I mean everything.

That pink and black jacket...OMG. Plus every item in the very bottom pic...ah hell, let's face it, I want it all.

I'm so excited for their new venture which is coming up to its one month anniversary! And to celebrate, this week they're having a 'Bring a Friend' week, with discounts and even a glass of bubbly tomorrow from 3pm.  Please make sure you support these gorgeously talented artists and check out their websites...personally I think I'll be sinking quite a bit of my salary into 'investing' in their wares on a far-too-regular basis.

It's wonderful to be able to give support to a friend with so much talent and who happens to be simply the nicest person I've ever met in our 25+ year friendship (sorry Cathy, Larissa, Jane et al, but you know it's true).

And with my 'big' birthday coming up in September if Kathy felt like creating something for me, then I'll just have to gracefully accept.

So 'like' them on Facebook (180a Latrobe) and check out their websites for that 'something special' that you know you need! You know you want to!

Bec xx

Never throw a moose out of an aeroplane in Alaska.

So dancing the night away in Japan is apparently illegal and there are 'entertainment spaces' where you can actually be asked to please stop moving to the music. True story.

Now I'm fully aware that there is a segment of the population whose dancing really IS a crime against humanity and should be punishable by law to it's full extent. I mean, really. I know there's a saying that you should dance like no-one is watching, but seriously folks, it's meant to be a metaphor for life...remember there is ALWAYS someone watching...and perhaps cringing. Corporal punishment is perfectly OK in these circumstances. Unless they like it, but that's another story for another kind of blog entirely.

It's like sing as if no-one's listening. Out of consideration for the population at large and all the pets in the neighbourhood, I tend to only sing WHEN no-one is listening. It's a public service (cause I'm giving like that) and anyone who's ever had the misfortune to inadvertently hear my warbling would totally agree.

However Japan has really taken this to the extreme. Imagine being somewhere listening to music and involuntarily tapping your foot and bobbing your head and suddenly you're being police-escorted towards the exit.

Christ, I'd be arrested at work for God's sake. I just realised while perusing Madonna's early catalogue through my earphones that I'm having to restrain myself from singing aloud (see rule above) and I am certainly wiggling around in my seat like I have worms whilst enjoying Into The Groove (arguably Madonna's best effort ever).

Which led me to ponder the strange and insane laws that are in effect around the world (a logical segue, naturally).

Did you know that in Alabama it is illegal to wear a fake moustache that causes laughter in church? Or in Indiana any male driver with a female passenger under the age of 17 better make sure she's wearing her shoes and socks otherwise you could find yourself arrested for statutory rape. And whatever you do, please ensure that you do not strap your children to your car roof or bumper whilst in Oregon.

And heaven help you if you're drunk and in possession of a cow... where else but Scotland? Of course.

Apparently in New York you're allowed to go topless provided it's not for any business purpose. Something to remember when I'm there later this year! Whereas in Liverpool it's only allowed if you're selling exotic fish...perfectly logical.

And let us not leave out Ireland...I have a particular fascination with this country as I'm firmly convinced they're all certifiably insane, in the best possible way. One of the funniest books I've ever read is Tony Hawks' personal account called 'Round Ireland with a Fridge' (go on, read it, you know you want to) which is, surprisingly enough, based on his true adventure of hitching around Ireland with...you guessed it...a fridge. Based on a drunken pub bet that in Ireland people would pick up anyone, no matter how crazy looking, it's a great read that proves everything I've always thought about the Irish. Before I get lambasted by anyone of Irish descent, I say this with a great deal of love and some diluted Irish blood running through my own veins.

So with great anticipation I googled crazy laws in Ireland, and I wasn't disappointed. 

• If a leprechaun calls at your door, you must give him a share of your dinner
• It is illegal to perform any kind of witchcraft in Dublin
• The Tippling Act 1735 prohibits a publican from pursuing a customer for money owed for any drink given on credit (explains a lot)
• At Trinity College, students can demand a glass of wine during an exam. Would make studying far more pleasant indeed...
• Now overturned but once true: the penalty for suicide was death by hanging. Of course

 Having said all of this, I just googled crazy laws in Australia, and as it says that taxis by law have to carry a bale of hay in the boot (trunk) and that hot pink pants are illegal after midday on Sundays, I may have to take the laws above with a grain of salt. I mean, hot pink pants should be illegal under most circumstances but really?

What weird but true laws are still in effect where you live

? I'd love to hear them.

Bec  xx

Would you pick this girl as your Mentor? Oh dear.

Further to yesterday's extreme caffeine deprived addled post, I would like to say that three coffees and several diet cokes later...and well, nothing improved. Oh dear.

Thankfully Tuesday has dawned clear, bright (albeit freaking cold) and whilst I did hit snooze far too many times this morning, it wasn't quite the panic stations of yesterday and I even managed to get here in time for my visit to my dealer coffee provider which always makes things just dandy.

So I wrote briefly last week that Friday was my 1 year 'birthday' at my workplace and indeed in Toowoomba. I was so lucky and spoilt with simply the most enormous bunch of flowers delivered in the morning (so heavy they literally toppled and smashed my lovely vase at home, sad face) followed by a pissy lunch at one of our favourite restaurants (Gips) with some brilliant company and lots (and lots) of fine champagne (BEST. BRUSCHETTA. EVER). It was certainly an entertaining afternoon back at the office trying to work after that but at least it meant I was sober by the time I drove home!

I can't believe I got so lucky to fall on my feet straight into a fabulous job (literally I think one of the best assistant jobs in Toowoomba!), great house and all the rest. Speaking of the house - I am now a proficient pyromaniac fire builder who is very capably warming our house without setting the whole damn thing on fire - yay me. Can't believe I didn't use the fireplace last year, it is so much warmer than any heater and (fingers crossed) means I won't be getting a power bill the size of the debt of a small country this winter.

I think I can categorically say the Toowoomba Project is a roaring success. If only it wasn't so farking cold.

So winter hit with a vengeance about 2 weeks ago - one minute it was sunny and warm and the next farking freezing. Some days I totally get why bears hibernate in winter. There has been more than one day where my doona screams my name when we are separated - or perhaps I scream it's name...I forget which. It's times like this when I dream of Far North Queensland holidays and when my smartass, Cairns dwelling

 stepsister starts sending me text messages like the one below. She hasn't done one for a while but I know it's a-comin'.

By the way darling stepsis, the threat of Nickelback in your kids Christmas stockings doesn't have an expiry date. Just saying.

Oh some exciting news, at least for me. I have been asked to participate in a Mentoring Programme up here and now some poor unsuspecting sucker lucky young woman will draw the short straw get the benefit of my wisdom and experience (I nearly choked on my coffee just writing that phrase) for the next twelve months as my mentee.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

I'm totally looking forward to it, the opportunity to officially screw up someone else being handed to me on a silver platter. I plan to teach her all my tricks as per an excellent mentor should.

So I'm off to the Careflight Gala Ball this weekend, which is pretty cool. It's Venetian Masquerade and I can't wait to get girlied up and masked and to post some pics of the occasion! There is something about wearing a mask, which when coupled with free champagne makes me behave incredibly badly although with my boss at the table I may have to rein it in somewhat.

Quote of the day (yesterday) in caffeine addled state: 'I would go to the opening of an envelope if it involved a pretty dress and a mask'.

My boss told me I'm not normal, which I have decided to take as an extreme compliment.

I think.

Anyhoo, have a wonderful Tuesday all, I personally have downloaded the early Madonna (think pre- Like a Prayer) catalogue and am thoroughly enjoying myself right about now.

Bec xx

When you're too caffeine deprived for coffee...

So today I:

a) Somehow pressed 'snooze' on my alarm from 6am to 7:55am without being remotely conscious of it. Managed to throw myself together in approx. 7.5 minutes (including shower/makeup/hair) - albeit perhaps not my finest effort (sorry all). Meanwhile kidlet was dressed, breakfasted, packed and ready for school, thanks mate. Which then led to...

b) Gettting to work only to miss the coffee van by THIS much. I mean, it was literally driving out the gate as I came tearing in. No amount of frantic hand signalling and pleading eyes gained anything more than Frank cheerfully waving out the window as he zoomed off. Like I'm not funding your retirement plan and putting your kids through uni. Some public service, mate. I would threaten to boycott you out of principle but we all know that's a desperate lie. I have no principles when caffeine is involved, clearly. And then...

c) What do you call it when you're so caffeine deprived you can't even operate the coffee machine at work properly? We have one of those machines that use the pod-dy thingos that are essentially idiot-proof. Or so they say...I think I have just managed to self-create a bigger idiot, as I managed to fark it up three times wasting my precious pods before finally managing to get a sip.

d) Then with cup in hand (but clearly before the caffeine kicked in) I came to write this and was nearly done when somehow I managed to wipe the lot. Of course I didn't save it. What a stupid question.

So is this where I say 'things can only get better' or realise that my doona had better sense than me this morning by holding me captive and is at this moment chuckling to itself saying 'I told you not to get up'?????

And then first song of the day is Metallica's Nothing Else Matters...oh dear God. I be screwed.

Cheers

Bec xx

Happy first work anniversary to me!

I truly have the best boss ever.

I just put these in a vase and they toppled over!

And I'm even more thankful that these will be going home with me in the comfort of my car instead of a public transport spectacle as I'd truly infuriate co-commuters as this bouquet is literally that big, it requires it's own seat.

Bec xx