where the cornflakes are

I have a confession to make...

2006-09-09T16:02:00.000+10:00

Hi. I’m Stella, and I don’t really give a stuff that Steve Irwin is dead.

It’s a personal tragedy for his family, for sure. It’s very sad that a husband and a father has been lost, but no sadder than if it were anyone else’s husband or father. There’s a massive difference between personal tragedy and national tragedy.

I’m absolutely gob smacked at how people have reacted. I always assumed the guy was looked upon as a bit of a joke. I never dreamed that the Australian public respected him even a little bit. He provoked and tormented animals for fun. And he wasn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

The fact that Stingrays have only killed three Australians ever, and all marine experts say they only sting when provoked, is surely testament to the fact that he was probably provoking it when it stung him. If he wasn’t, well then it would be the first animal he would have ever NOT publicly tormented and humiliated in order to make television.

Two years ago when he paraded his one-month-old baby in front of a hungry crocodile, we all thought he was the worst in the world. Personally, I was disturbed that he was touching raw meat at the same time as touching a child. Ewww.

My friend Rob tells me that we’re in the mere 2% of the population that don’t think he was a national hero. According to the Herald Sun poll, mind you, which might tell us more about the intelligence of the people who read the Herald Sun than anything else.

I wholeheartedly agree with Germaine Greer, who said, among other things that “the animal world has taken its revenge.” Her controversial article in the Guardian is the most sensible thing I’ve read on the matter.

Personally, I hope that when people from overseas think of Australia, they don’t think of Steve Irwin. If all these people making such a spectacle are right, and he was an Australian icon, I hope he’s a quickly forgotten one.

For Australians to be portrayed as unintelligent, unthinking, nit-wits would be more of a national tragedy than anything else.

Two other things

2006-08-01T15:15:00.000+10:00

First thing: I hate Myspace. It's the dumbest thing in the world.

Second thing: I'm not usually the queen of the perfect comeback, but I managed to pull off a pretty good one last weekend.

The scene: A bar at a really well equipped and organised house party.

Him: Man, you'd be really hot if you were normal.

Me: Not half as hot as you'd be if you weren't a total cunt.

I'm not dead

2006-08-01T14:49:00.000+10:00

You all may be forgiven for thinking that I may have perhaps died, or at least been mourning the death of all computers that were previously in my life.

The truth is, I've been spending all computer related hours doing this. Why oh why did I think this thing was going to be easy? I'm not even responsible for the whole thing, just the communications and publicity work.

Non-film festival activities over the last three months have included:

Hosting the 3rd Annual Antenna Awards on community television. Heaps of fun! A comedian called Justin wrote our script. He was most amusing, as was my fabulous co-host Bryce. I think the best thing about working in community as opposed to commercial television would have to be the freedom to make jokes about the cultural significance of your co-hosts testicals in a national live broadcast, with absolutely no consequences at all.

My best friend moved to London. I miss her.

In May I went to a big disability arts conference and had many fights about "disability arts" vs "arts and disability". Julie MacNamara and Caglar Kimyoncu were there from the UK. I loved them. My collegues did not. I became increasingly stroppy about people insisting that they are "people first" and objecting to the term "disabled" anything. Fuck that. We all have enough human characteristics to make the statement of the fact that we are people totally ridiculous. It's pretty fucking obvious we're not bloody rose bushes or pairs of shoes. This is why I want to go to the UK.

My sister turned 21 last week. I went home on the weekend for her party. It was awesome. Lots of glow sticks and really awful techno music - very Romy. Not that she's really awful in any way. We just have very different ideas about what constitutes nice music.

I went to a lovely Guild Leage gig with my friend Kent last Thursday night. We nearly didn't go. We had dinner and then were running late. At the last minute we decided we totally HAD to bust our arses to get there. Very glad we did. They were supporting Emma Heeney at her album launch. Emma was better than either of us remembered her previous band to be, and Angie Hart was doing backing vocals. I heart Angie Hart.

I got rather callously dumped for an 18 year old girl with a four year old child. From Adelaide. Need I say more?

I now have a bit of a crush on a visual artist (whom I hope is too busy making beautiful things to read blogs) who wears glasses, experiences anxiety over sightings of bonsai trees, and has a one-year-old pet stapler called Jaws. He's lovely.

I'm thinking of having my star sign removed (or changed) to regain control over my life, loves and tattslotto numbers. I'm currently a Pisces, but i'm open to suggestion.

Um, I think those are all the important things, and some not-so-important things.

Windy city scarf

2006-04-15T15:58:00.000+10:00

I bet you thought I'd thrown in the needles, seeing as I haven't mentioned knitting in quite a while. You'd be partially correct. I don't do as much knitting in summer because it's just too bloody hot. However, as the leaves start to go all orange my hands begin to twitch for the needles once more.

This is sister Madi, modelling my first proper project for the year, apart from a couple of iPod covers made for friends by request. It's the Windy City Scarf from Stitch N Bitch; The Knitters Handbook. It has one of those handy keyhole bits so that you can thread one end of the scarf through and it wont blow away. It's supposed to look like this.

I wore it out this morning, just to the shops. It struck me that it's a very crip- friendly garment. I only have to wrap it round my neck once, so it's comfortable on my rather minimalist neck (it's an OI thing). It is also able to be secured with the keyhole, so that if the wind blows, it wont be swept off into the breeze where I'd have trouble chasing it. When I was little, I remember my Mum telling me the cautionary tale of Isadora Duncan, who apparently jammed her scarf in the car door. It got caught in the wheel and strangled her to death, so Mum was always wary of dressing me in anything that might push me toward the same fate as Ms Duncan. She's most pleased that my new scarf clears the wheels of my wheelchair by quite a distance.

This is my next knitting project, for my friend Thea. She picked it out herself and when I asked why she might like such an article, she replied: "So that when people come over to my house and see it they say "what's that?" And then I can say, "It's a Uterus, my friend Stella knitted it for me.""

2006-04-15T15:14:00.000+10:00

Woohoo! How exciting... our very own "Blogging Against Disablism Day" on May 1st. If you'd like to participate, click on the above graphic and it will send you over to Diary of a Goldfish. She tells you how. Even if you don't want to participate, go and check her out anyway - she's pretty rad.

I'd rather just break coffee cups and promises

2006-04-03T10:30:00.000+10:00

Ok so I know I've never been the best and most regular blogger in the world, so it's not like you guys expect amazing things from me anyway. However this time my leave of absence comes with a semi-valid excuse.

To cut a long story short, I slipped off my shower bench and broke six bones. The box I put my feet on was on a slightly weird angle because I'd dropped a bottle of shampoo between it and the wall. Combined with my slightly alcohol-impaired co-ordination at the time, I put weight on it the wrong way, it flipped over and slipped under the bench and I fell on my arse in a rather undignified fashion. There is no elegant way to do that.

I hit my head really hard, so memories of how I got up are a bit foggy. The gaps probably have something to do with the alcohol too. Whoops! I'd like to think I was rescued by my handsome Spanish neighbour. Unfortunately I think the more likely scenario involves me squirming out from under the bench, up onto my footplates and into my chair, something I wouldn't normally attempt under the best of circumstances. It's amazing what your body can do when it's an absolute emergency.

Turns out, I'd broken two ribs, two vertabrae, a finger and my coccyx bone. Nasty. At least the letter from the Radiologist gave me some amusement. It read - "Examination is difficult due to the gross and complex deformities attributed to Osteogenesis Imperfecta. There is a marked thoracic convexivity to the right and the lumbar convexivity to the left. The bones are deformed, osteporotic and hypoplastic throughout. In the lumbar spine there is mild loss of vertebral body height centrally involving all lumbar vertabral bodies. The pelvic bones are grossly deformed with gross flattening of the pelvic cavity. Conclusion: There are gross deformities of Osteogenesis Imperfecta."

In English I think that means that my bones are a bit fucked, and I'm er, gross, I suppose. Doctors are such charmers aren't they?

Best birthday ever!

2006-03-02T10:00:00.000+11:00

They say something about turning a certain age on the corresponding date. Ummm... I can't remember exactly what that is, but nonetheless, my 24th birthday was on the 24th of February, and it sort of ROCKED!

The day started off being pretty ordinary but got much better. I had lunch with my amazing friend Beth, who's been off travelling through Africa and Europe for three months. Seeing her again was great and she had some random birthday gifts for me from her travels, including some kind of address/friendship/birthday book written entirely in Dutch, a language neither of us can read. While we were out for lunch, we ran into another friend whom I learnt sign language with for a while last year. Her name is No Mi Che and she studies Circus at the National Institute of Circus Art, majoring in Cloud Swing and Hoola Hoops - needless to say, she's awesome! We had a lovely lunch in the sun on my favourite end of Chapel St (the Windsor end with less snobs), it was beautiful weather with a top of 36 degrees, and the day was just generally lovely.

The night got even better, beginning with a great dinner of Mexican (lots of Margaritas!) with my friends Jeff and Yumi and ending with... the Candle Records annual concert! All the good bands played. All my friends were there. It was ACE! At some point Kent ran off and told Mark from The Lucksmiths that it was my birthday, so they wished me a very happy birthday right in the middle of the set! Sooo cool!

Great day, great night.... followed by another party on Saturday arvo with people who didn't feel inclined to Candle-it-up with us the night before. Aside from the torrential downpour at exactly 2pm causing me to text everyone and change venue to somewhere that wasn't an outdoor Belgian Beer Garden, and the fact that everyone was late and totally soaked by the time they got there, it was really really great! We kicked on well into the night and lots of Stella Artois was consumed! My Mum and sister arrived at one point, whereapon Mum decided to whip out THIS photo of me, clearly taken before I had any real hair of my own and my parents felt inclined to place a plastic wig on my head.

The weekend made me realise what amazing friends I have. I love you all to bits. Especially Lara, who not only gave me the first season of Degrassi High on DVD, but actually had a tank top made with THE ZIT REMEDY written right across the front. Love it! And love you all!

I've only been 24 for six days, but it's already pretty good. I have good feelings about it being much better than 23. There were lots of lessons in 23, but I'd be quite glad not to go back. Here's to 24 being filled with NEW lessons and stacks of fun! Woohoo!

A unique valentine's day compliment I may never hear again

2006-02-17T10:22:00.000+11:00

Actual text message exchange in which I engaged on Valentine's Day:

Me: Just saw Brokeback Mountain. You were right - I cried my head off! If I could be reincarnated I think I'd like to come back as a gay cowboy in the 60s, just so I could support the cause!

Sean: I think you'd make a fantastic gay cowboy, whether in the 60s or today! The hat and the boots would be most becoming! Can you ride a horse?

Me: I think that's the nicest thing anyone has said to me all day! Alas, I cannot ride a horse.

Sean: Well I guess you wouldn't necessarily NEED the horse... That's what the other gay cowboys are for!

Me: Err... Are we talking about MY ideal afterlife or YOURS?

So while there were no lovely Valentine's Day surprises for little old me this year, I may have inadvertently found a new ambition. I do already have some very cute cowboy boots!

I weep for the future

2006-02-13T10:04:00.000+11:00

I've been meaning to do a post for a while about a letter I received in the mail just before Christmas. I just read something over on Gimpy Mumpy that reignited my anger, so I've decided to finally do it. That, and Marmite reminding me that I'm not really the most regular blogger in the world. ;-)

Anyway, this letter was a copy of a referral to a gynecologist. Kind of a long story, but I had this weird migrane and my regular doctor wanted to take me off the pill because she thought it might be related to that. I'd had an infuriating conversation with her at the time, because she assumed that stopping the pill would have absolutely no consequences for me at all. I was frustrated to have to explain (after repeated attempts at hinting) that I use it for birth control, not just for the hell of it. After she picked her jaw up off the floor and poked her eyes back into their sockets, she asked many inappropriate questions about whether or not I only shag other crips, then decided to put me in the "too hard" basket and send me to someone else.

She's such a twit that I really shouldn't have been surprised when I read the letter that began - "Stella has severe Osteogenesis Imperfecta and is wheelchair-bound. Surprisingly, however, she is sexually active and requires contraception."

Um, excuse me? Surprisingly? Wheelchair-bound? I wasn't quite sure whether the subtext was, "despite being completely hideous and socially unacceptable, Stella occasionally gets some action", or perhaps "Oh my God, this thing might actually breed!" Even more horrifying was actually going to see the gynecologist, where I had to justify my disturbingly normal lifestyle once again. I'm 23 years old, women my age occasionally have partners, and sometimes even shag them. To assume that I don't, based on nothing other than the way I look, is totally offensive. Never mind the fact that using contraception is actually a responsible and sensible thing to do, and no-one should ever have to justify that.

My anger about this experience was re-fuelled this morning when I read about a woman with OI who has just had a baby. Obviously, the fact in itself doesn't make me angry, I think it's kind of cool. People have been telling me about it all weekend though, just because I have the same impairment. Although my stroppy crip reaction is to roll my eyes and ask why I should care about that any more than I would if anyone else had a baby, I've resisted. It is an interesting story, and a wonderful thing that a much loved baby has been bought into the world.

Reading Mumpy's account of things this morning though, I've discovered that, as usual, there has been some seriously dodgy reporting of it by the press. This article is pretty indicative of that. "Her tiny, distorted body left little room for a fetus to grow and Vasquez suffered two miscarriages before doctors at Stanford University's Lucile Packard Children's Hospital delivered her son, Timothy, by Cesarean section on Jan. 24."

Sigh. What hope do we have if we keep reading these sorts of things about ourselves and our lives? Even from doctors, supposedly some of the more educated people in society. It's no wonder so many crips grow up with hang-ups and self-esteem issues.

On that note, I'd best be getting my "tiny, distorted, wheelchair-bound body" back to work, ey?

Can I play too?

2006-02-11T11:29:00.000+11:00

I'm not entirely sure if I got "tagged" with this or not, but I thought I might as well join the game!

Two jobs in my life
Salon Assistant - if I NEVER have to scrub another comb in my life, it will be too soon!
Arts Administrator - current job

Two films I could watch over and over
Garden State
The Princess Bride

Two places I have lived
Stawell - where my family still live
Richmond

Two TV series that I enjoy
Sex and the City
The Secret Life of Us

Two places I have been on vacation
Cairns
Sydney

Two foods I love
My mum's roast potatoes
Kalamata Olives

Four Websites I visit daily
Marmiteboy on Toast
Lady Bracknell
BBC Ouch
The Age

Two bloggers who should play
Becca
Amanda (missing you!)

"Mixed tapes with careful print, titles of tunes..." *

2006-01-30T10:04:00.000+11:00

Hmmm... I have yet again been a delinquent blogger. However, I take great comfort in the fact that it's due to much galavanting around the countryside, and generally having a life. The dangerous thing about summer in Melbourne is partaking in after-work drinks almost every night. Whoops.

So I've been up to lots of interesting things. Went on a holiday to Far North Queensland - the first time I've ever flown by myself. Very warm up there and my chair didn't like it much. In fact, on returning home she lasted a week before her batteries overheated and fried some kind of circuit board. Getting to be a right moody cow in her old age. Mind you, it has been really really hot. Last weekend consisted of two consecutive days well over 40 degrees. Yuk! More about my chair adventures and my search for a new one in a later post!

For now, I'd just like to say a HUGE thanks to Marmiteboy for the fabulous mixed tapes that arrived in the mail this morning! You're a gem, I can't wait to listen to them, and yours are very nearly done and on the way to you! I've always wanted someone to make me mixed tapes. Seems so old-school, I love it! Thanks Marmite!

Oh, and I'll be able to read the track titles because I replaced my aforementioned lost glasses. Not without a great deal of grumbling about it though.

* The Guild League

Woe is me!

2005-12-01T15:16:00.000+11:00

Just to prove that I cannot be trusted not to lose stuff, I've already lost my beautiful new Arts Administrator glasses. I've been in search of some great specs to replace my old daggy ones for several months, and finally found what I thought were really gorgeous frames.

I suspect it takes REAL talent to pay nearly $400 for six days worth of spectacle use. I know I lost them somewhere between Epworth Hospital and West Richmond Station. I retraced my tracks three times, but couldn't even find them squooshed on the road. Have reported them missing to the lost property department of the hospital, but nothing has appeared.

See how pretty they were? Sigh!

My Mum... a Melbourne icon

2005-10-17T15:37:00.000+10:00

Ok, so maybe she's not my "real" mum, but I'm quite attached to her anyway. She's been a fixture on Brunswick St for as long as I've lived in Melbourne. My mate Beth once decided to call her my mum, on account of her being a wheely crip too, and it kind of stuck. So she's become a meeting place for my friends, whether I'm actually involved in the occasion or not. "Meet you at Stell's Mum," instead of "Meet you on the corner". It's just part of our vocabulary now.

Wandering past on Saturday I noticed that she's holding a CLOSING DOWN sign. My poor Mum is being made redundant. I didn't realise how attached I was to her until now. She's such a groovy chick, despite being made entirely of some sort of plastic or metal. Her outfits and hairstyles change regularly, despite the fact that she doesn't even belong to a clothing store (they sell sheet and towels and stuff). She makes a handy meeting spot. I reckon she even provides some subtle disability awareness hanging out on her corner.

I don't know what's going to happen to her when the shop closes. Becca suggested I might be able to buy her. But I fear it would never be the same. "Meeting at my Mum" would actually just be coming over to my place, not hanging out in cool cafes and shopping for slightly over-priced vintage clothing. And besides, where on earth would I put her?

Farewell Mum... thanks for the good times!

Is there a doctor in the house?

2005-09-28T21:02:00.000+10:00

Yep, and I've just squooshed his right foot!

Sometimes I get to do quite cool stuff for work. Last night I went to the launch of Melbourne Theatre Company's 2006 season. It was a fairly typical do, you know, the artistic director was a bit smashed and crapped on for way too long, everyone ooohed and aahhhed over the new program and there were many random B-list celebs in attendance (possibly C-list, I'm not sure how the classification system works).

All was popping along nicely. I'd had my wine glass re-filled a couple of times and I was thinking about heading home. I started to get the show on the road and kind of move through the crowd to the exit. I'm normally really good at negotiating crowds, but it seems that a crowd of increasingly drunk theatre people is a different kettle of fish. I'd only gone about two feet when I felt a really massive bump under one wheel. Yep, I'd run over someone's foot. Ah well, at least he can have a crack at fixing it himself, being medically trained n'all.....

It was Dr Karl Kennedy. You know, from Neighbours. Whoops.

The adventures of a crip in bed

2005-09-17T16:02:00.000+10:00

After that title I know you'll all probably be expecting some kind of sexual content in this post but I'm afraid there will be none. Sorry to disappoint.

I took the day off work last Monday, had some stuff to do and my back right driving wheel was making a fairly disturbing noise. Rather than risk an impromptu breakdown at what is always an inopportune time, I thought I should get it looked at. A lengthy cab ride and four hours of sitting in a mobility aid show room later, I was back on the road. The lovely boys at the wheelchair shop (one of whom is a total spunk) replaced gearboxes in both wheels, so the theory was that I'd continue to be perfectly mobile, minus the death rattle. Yeah, right.

About 8.30pm that evening I was pottering around my flat when I noticed a really severe jerk in the very same wheel that had just had it's death rattle attended to. My first thought was "where the hell is my mobile phone?", which is always my first thought when something is about to happen that could potentially leave me stranded. I managed to drive this strange new version of my chair, with said wheel only responding when it seemed to be in the mood to get my mobile, and open my front door. I figured if I was going to need rescuing, I was going to need to at least have my door open so someone could get in. Luckily, the wheel didn't become completely unresponsive until this point, at which I called my lovely upstairs neighbour Rosanna and she came down to assess the situation. We both took one look at what was happening, agreed that my chair was totally wanked and the best thing was for me to simply turn in for the night until I could call someone with an actual clue about how to fix it. Being completely non-ambulant, I’m totally stuffed without my chair. I do have a manual one, but I can't use it by myself. As soon as I put any weight on the footplates to transfer into or out of it, the whole bloody thing tips over. We decided that Rosanna would take my keys and I'd have the repairperson ring her doorbell in the morning so she could let them in. Between me driving my left wheel and her hauling the right side of my chair, we managed to get me close enough to my bed for me to climb in. Where I stayed. For 15 hours.

Now I know it sounds pretty horrendous, which it was, but there were a number of things about the situation that were actually really fortunate:

∑ I was already in my pyjamas and pretty much ready to turn in for the night anyway (I’d even been to the bathroom)
∑ Rosanna was home and able to stay home from work a little longer in the morning to let the repair guy in
∑ Watching morning television lifestyle programs did wonders for my self esteem – no matter how crap you are, there’s always someone way more hideous than you
∑ They DIDN’T send the spunky repair guy to find me in my pyjamas and more than slightly dishevelled from sleep (he was middle-aged and bald)

Oh and for the technically minded among you, the actual problem with the wheel turned out to be something to do with the bearings and couplings in the motors, or something.

Delinquent blogger.... whoops!

2005-09-06T16:02:00.000+10:00

Ok so I haven’t blogged in like a hundred years. I’ve been off having a life, sorry. Looking back I think there was stuff that happened that was worth blogging about but none of it is particularly relevant anymore. I’ll just start afresh shall I? With a bit of luck, regular blogging should resume. Not that I was ever particularly good at it anyway. Moving on...

Firstly, I just want to offer a public apology to Luke for not sending his CDs yet. I made him some ages ago and they’ve been sitting on my desk. The bright side is I’ve been discovering new bands and adding to the collection. But sorry mate, I’m a slack tart!

The other thing that I think might be slightly blog-worthy right now is the letter I received from the Equal Opportunity Commission last week. They wrote to let me know that the complaint I’d lodged against a music venue over 12 months ago has been “successful”. Meaning that they now have a crip toilet, and some portable ramps that they’ll put down to let you in. No word on my strong suggestion that the security staff have some equality training. Imagine that!

I’m glad something has happened at least. It was a pretty nasty process. The incident itself involved arguing on the street with several security guards for half an hour about their responsibilities under the DDA, having to sit on the floor and crawl under the merch desk to prevent being trampled while my friends carried my chair down some steps, enduring nasty looks from venue staff all night, and not even being able to have a drink because there was no accessible toilet. And yes, prior to purchasing tickets to the gig, I did call to ask about access and was told by a senior staff member that the venue was fully wheelchair accessible. What, did he think I wasn’t actually planning to attend at some point?

Six months later I had to go to the commission for a conciliation meeting. Such a load of crap. When I first got stroppy and lodged the complaint, I was under the understanding that the Equal Opportunity Commission were interested in, you know, equal opportunity. I thought that they would actually represent the person who had been denied equal opportunity. In fact, what they actually do is try and shut you up. If they are on the “side” of either party, it’s certainly not the complainant. I wasn’t allowed to bring anyone to represent me. I could bring one person, but they were not allowed to speak at all during the process. The conciliator started by asking me to explain why I thought I had been discriminated against. Well, as stroppy as I am, it was all a bit much and I ended up crying in front of these horrible bullies. I recall blubbering something about them being mean to me, among other things. Yeah, way to assert your rights Stell!

So now they have some folding ramps (that would be useless if you had to exit in an emergency) and some handrails in a spacious toilet. Big friggin deal. Unfortunately I think the major lessons from this process have been learnt by me, rather than them:

- Our DDA isn’t worth the paper it’s written on
- If you’re going to push it to conciliation, make sure you invest in water-proof mascara

With the weight of the world on his shoulders...

2005-07-27T15:03:00.000+10:00

Well, just the weight of the Chocolate Factory really. Via the fab team over at Ouch! I discovered a fascinating fact about the re-make of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

The 165 Oompa Loompas responsible for the production of Wonka's wonderful confectionary are actually played by just one short-statured man, Deep Roy, who has also kicked a bit of vampire-arse in Buffy The Vampire Slayer and waved some big light sticks in various Star Wars movies.

So if this guy has got it pretty much under control, does that mean I should stop waiting around wearing a green skivvy and white overalls in the hope of an invitation to go and play in a fantasy land with Jonny Depp and obscene amounts of chocolate? Damn!

When you're onto a good thing....

2005-07-20T10:21:00.000+10:00

Altering your life in one tiny way can sometimes have disastrous consequences. I remember having huge philosophical conversations about this very topic when I was at uni. Living on-campus as i did, it was a constant issue for discussion. Your position on this issue defined who you were, it spoke volumes about your personality, it revealed your innermost desires. Most importantly, it declared to your fellow unit-mates the question everyone wants to ask, but no one dares to:

What sort of toothpaste do you use?

I recall my coming-out moment, the point in time where i declared to the world who I really am - a McLean’s Triple Stripe girl, all the way baby. Our unit was pretty much divided down the clear lines of McLean’s vs. Colgate. Oh sure, there were the few fringe radicals who kept to themselves with their Aim and Sensodyne, but those of us who mattered forged forth from our rooms and headed to the communal sink wearing our hearts on our sleeves and our chosen paste on our brushes.

Now, as I mentioned, I'm a very specific breed of toothpaste user, declaring my allegiance not just to McLean’s as a brand, but specifically to McLean’s Triple Stripe. It's the cool one with the three stripes. I've been the same for years, firmly believing that while friends and lovers will come and go, my Triple Stripe will always be with me.

This morning, everything changed.

Since discovering online grocery shopping about 12 months ago, i rarely go to the supermarket. Occasional visits are more for the purpose of supermarket flirtations with fellow shoppers. You know, ordering the same thing at the deli and sharing a meaningful glance, synchronised aisle walking, joking about the ripeness of fruit, flirty checkout conversations, etc. So I haven't allowed the internet to completely rob me of the potential for falling in supermarket love, it's just that I’ve succumbed to the convenience of the mouse click, rather than beating shelves with my reaching stick in the hope of my chosen item landing in my basket. More often than not, it lands on my head anyway. Hmmm, maybe a concussion would increase potential for a supermarket rescue by a handsome supermarket prince...

But I digress; this is about the toothpaste and the fact that last time I went to the supermarket, I bought the wrong kind. How could this have happened? I hear you ask. How on earth could this staunch supporter of Triple Stripe have gone against everything she believes, discarded her morals, and betrayed her good friend? Well, mainly because it was up too high on the shelf (even for the imprecise art of stick beating) and the only other shopper in sight was a man carrying two shopping baskets; one completely full to the brim with aborio rice, and the other worn on his head. Rather than interact with this man whom I can only assume REALLY likes Risotto and once had a bad experience with swooping magpies in a supermarket, I decided to take the plunge and buy alternative toothpaste.

After much contemplation of the array of shiny boxes available at comfortable reaching level, I decided to go with McLean’s Extreme Clean. It looked a fair bit like McLean’s Triple Stripe, albeit minus the blue stripe. This one just has the red and white but I wasn't too concerned. I've long suspected that the blue stripe doesn't do much work anyway. It really just rides along with the other two. Social loafing, I believe it's called.

Oh, how wrong I was!

As i busted open the shiny box this morning, flipped open the lid and squeezed a helping onto my toothbrush, I could sense that something was wrong. Not only did it look different, somehow incomplete without the blue stripe, it smelt weird too. Sort of like those eucalyptus lollies my nanna used to cart around with her. But the smell was a minor issue compared to what I encountered next.

This new Extreme Clean business boasts 'micro-active foaming particles' which i assumed would be a positive attribute. I'm a fan of clean teeth and nothing gets em clean like a good foamy toothpaste. However, I was not prepared for the frothing that was to follow. As I brushed, my mouth started to fill with foam so rapidly that I had to take several spits before I’d even finished with the top left-hand side. Now, I’m a lazy crip in the mornings and more standing up/sitting down action than is absolutely necessary just makes me grumpy. It was a case of either stand up every few seconds to discard superfluous foam into the sink, or remain seated and risk having to change my entire outfit before heading to work.

After filling the sink almost to overflowing with pink foam (that's another thing the blue stripe does - stops the process of teeth cleaning from being too girly) I finally reached the end of my task and was ready to assess the Extreme Clean experience. Here's my verdict:

SODDING TERRIBLE!

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to the supermarket to flirt with the boys in fruit and veg and reacquaint myself with my old friend McLean’s Triple Stripe. That is, if she'll have me back.

Goth baby Baxter

2005-07-05T19:06:00.000+10:00

I finally finished Baby's First Tattoo cardi from Stitch N Bitch Nation. It's for a baby called Baxter who is about 4 months now I think. I knitted the 6 month size so provided he hasn't grown to unusual proportions, it should fit him for the rest of the winter... fingers crossed!

The actual knitting took me no time at all and I've had it finished for quite a while. The delay, as always, was in the seaming. This is the first item I've ever bothered to block, but I'm definately a fan of the concept now. Henceforth, I shall block EVERYTHING!

Hopefully I'll soon have a photo of Baxter modelling his first tattoo!

Next knitting project...

2005-07-01T21:01:00.000+10:00

The risky thing about posting about planned projects is that once I've told people about it, I might actaully have to knit it. And possibly seam it, and you know that horifies me. I ordered the yarn last night from Colourway so I guess I'm already committed really. Sooooo, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to announce that I am going to knit the Mudflap Girl Tank from Stitch N Bitch Nation.

I am substituting the yarn with Rowan Calmer. A very reliable source tells me that this yarn is totally lush so I'm looking forward to it's arrival.

Mind you, before I actually start the top, I'm resolving to finish the socks and the Baby's First Tattoo cardigan. Here I go making committments again - watch this space for photos of said completed items before the weekend is out. Yikes!

Socks ahoy!

2005-06-24T11:11:00.000+10:00

Right, so remember how i was planning to knit like a banshee all the way to Albury and back two weeks ago? As it happens, ribbed sock cuffs are too annoying to knit with a hangover so I did absolutely no knitting all weeekend. However, I'm now well on the way to having a pair of socks. This is half a sock, so I guess you could say it's a quarter of a pair!

Speaking of socks, i was telling Eliza over at Ghetto River Nymph about how I knitted a cover for my iPod and promised to take a photo ages ago.

So there you have it, my iPod is currently warmer than my feet!

Bad crip joke NOT suitable for my work newsletter

2005-06-24T10:16:00.000+10:00

Very funny but very un-PC crip content in this weeks Popbitch newsletter:

Q: What's better - Parkinsons or Alzheimers?
A: Parkinsons. It's better to spill half your drink
than forget where you put it...

He he!

Button, button, who's got the button?

2005-06-20T11:59:00.000+10:00

After much procrastination, I finally finished the mittens yesterday at the lovely Caulfield meet. Mind you, I whinged about sewing on the buttons the whole time and had to be prodded along by Diana, Jacqueline and Nichola. "Just two more Stell!!" Thanks gals!

So finally, here they are!

Now I can get stuck into the socks that I didn't knit on my trip to the short statured peoples sports weekend last weekend. Ah, the best laid knitting plans are too often derailed by a nasty hangover!

Hold on to your Badger!

2005-06-10T16:30:00.000+10:00

The weirdest thing I've read in quite a while comes all the way from Buckinghamshire in the UK, where they seem to be having some sort of problem with disabled wildlife. It seems the problem became so intense that the Wycombe District Council felt the need to erect a sign in a multi level car park instructing “disabled badger holders” to park on level 1.

Whilst some may find this confusing, the holding of disabled Badgers is really a more common pastime than you might think. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve asked a new acquaintance what they do for kicks and they’ve responded with “Oh lots of things but what I really enjoy doing is driving around holding Badgers with various forms of acquired and congenital disabilities while I search for a car park. You should try it, it’s just great!’

Check out the sign for yourself right here.
And while you’re at it, see if you can spot a second typo on the sign – it’s a corker!

No, I haven't thrown in the needles!

2005-06-10T11:54:00.000+10:00

Seeing as this blog promises to be (at least a bit) about knitting, I thought it was probably time for an update. Unfortunately, I don't have photos of anything at the moment because I can't take very good photos in my house with my digital camera when it's dark outside. The flash distorts the colour so much that I really do need to take them when it's light outside. Being the social butterfly that I am and Melbourne winters being prone to early darkness, I'm never actually home when it's light enough to take photos!

At the moment I have a few unfinished projects. The first, Baby's First Tattoo cardigan from Stitch N Bitch Nation is pretty much done apart from seaming it (and we all know how much I hate seaming!) and knitting the neckband. It was the first item I ever bothered to block and was so happy with the results. Thanks Jac!

I have also nearly finished a pair of mittens for my bosses son Felix. He requested blue with spots, so rather than muck around with intarsia, I'm going to sew buttons on them!

Clapotis is on holiday in my knitting corner. I'm not quite sure why I'm so unenthusiastic about it because I quite enjoy the actual knitting technique and I was looking forward to the part where I get to drop stitches on purpose! I'm not particularly enamoured with the yarn I chose so maybe that's why. I might ditch it and find something I like better!

I have also recently completed the vintage bathing cap for my friend Lara. It's awaiting the attachment of a button on one side. Finished it in the nick of time for her to take with her on her trip to Korea. She leaves on 23 June and plans to be gone about three months. Don't know if she'd survive without the cap so I'll be button sewing this very evening!

The most exciting item in my knitting life right now is the sock I'm going to start on the train tomorrow! I ordered three really cool balls of yarn from ace sock knitter Maree when she was ordering a batch from Germany. After much frustration with trying to read names of yarn in German, they finally arrived and I'm really happy with my choices. Hoping to churn out a few pairs while it's still winter. I'm going to Albury for the long weekend with a whole bunch of other short statured people - yay! - which means that there will be substantial sock-knitting time on the train. Given that I have kids size 13 feet, I reckon I could almost get one done this weekend on travel time alone. Something tells me I won't be doing much knitting when I actually get there though. I haven't been on this particular trip before but from all accounts it's pretty fun!

So that's my knitting life for the moment! Hopefully next week I'll have warm toes (at least on one foot!) and some photos to show off!

The plot thickens....

2005-05-31T09:18:00.000+10:00

It would seem the tale of Miss Wheelchair America is slightly more sordid than I first thought! Aparently it's not really about Ms Lee's ability to stand and walk short distances at all, but more of a personal cat-fight between Lee and the 2004 Miss Wheelchair Wisconsin, Gina Hackel. This year, Hackel was Chair of the Board of Directors.
Ragged Edge reports that "Lee says her crown was taken away after she confronted Hackel over a series of anti-discrimination lawsuits Hackel had filed against 26 local businesses for allegedly violating the 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act. Hackel said she filed the suits when she got no relief from those businesses over her concerns that they were not accessible to patrons with disabilities. Lee said Hackel's lawsuits were making it difficult for her students to raise money from those businesses for her to travel to the national competition in July. She also said the suits also made it more difficult for her to be an effective advocate for people with disabilities in her role as Ms. Wheelchair."
Ya know what? I stand by my earlier observation that her advocacy skills might be slightly affected by the fact that she was crowned in a competition that values the collection of pez dispensers.

Ten responses to "how did you get like that?"

2005-05-30T10:51:00.000+10:00

After telling my good freinds Nichola and Jacqueline the other night about my latest response to this question, I thought I'd post the fabulous top ten that Ouch!, the most fab disability website in the world came up with.

"I angered a magician."

"I could be able-bodied, but I'm just way too lazy."

"My father is also my brother."

"I was born and raised in a laboratory by an evil genetic scientist."

"This is what happens if you spend too much time on your Playstation."

"I was trying to get a kitten down from a tree."

"Sir, you insult me - but thank you for paying attention to me, it means so much."

"Actually there is nothing wrong with me, I'm one of a new emerging species."

"I was a contestant on Cheggers Plays Pop and bounced too high on the inflatable."

"I was Glenn Hoddle in a former life." *

* Now, for those of you who aren't up with the world of soccer, Glen Hoddle was a former captain of the English Football team, who was sacked from his position five years ago for coming out with the cracker line:

“You and I have been physically given two hands and two legs and half-decent brains … some people have not been born like that for a reason. The karma is working from another lifetime. What you sow, you have to reap.”

Oh, so that’s it - Karma! And all this time I thought it was something to do with not eating my greens. Boy, I’m glad Glen set the record straight with that pearl of wisdom!

By the way, my latest response was: "No actually it's a really recent thing. Unfortunate laundry accident. I ended up in the dryer, went through a full cycle and just came out like this. I used to be 6 foot 2. Really."

Some stuff I've knitted this year!

2005-05-26T12:25:00.000+10:00

Well, I finally worked out how this image thing works so I thought I'd give it a burl!

This is the wavy scarf from knitty that I made for my friend Aleisha. It was her birthday last Saturday and she loved it. In fact, she wore it out the very night I gave it to her.

This is the bobble bag I made for my friend Sarah's birthday.

While I was procrastinating about seaming the bag (I HATE SEAMING!) I knitted this for my sister Madi. She's looking slightly grumpy because she was on her way to school.

I also made these egg cosies from Weekend Knitting and sewed them onto key-rings. The photo is a little blurry but you get the idea.

And... my beautiful friend Cas who now lives in the UK and desperately needed some mittens. Unfortunately, I can't take credit for the cute hat.

So there!

Scandal hits Miss Wheelchair America!

2005-05-26T10:25:00.000+10:00

In fact, it hit her so hard she leapt out of her chair and was temporarily cured of her ailments. Miss Wheelchair Wisconsin was stripped of her crown earlier this month after photos of her standing up were leaked to the press. Ms Janeal Lee, who is able to stand and walk short distances, was “asked to step down” (I thought her “stepping” was the problem, actually!) as she did not meet the eligibility criteria and therefore would not be able to compete for the national title of Miss Wheelchair America.

According to their website http://www.mswheelchairamerica.org/ the eligibility criteria clearly states that contestants must “utilise a wheelchair for daily mobility” but provides no further clarification. If I were Ms Lee, I think I’d consider it rather a lucky escape from a competition who crowned Juliette Rizzo as Miss Wheelchair America 2005. “In her private life, Juliette is an avid collector of Pez dispensers, which she uses to decorate her holiday tree!”

Unfortunately, I don’t make this stuff up!

Fiction

2005-05-17T09:20:00.000+10:00

I almost called this blog Fiction, and this is why. My new favourite song from the brilliant new Lucksmiths album 'Warmer Corners' is the story of what I think is the best tattoo in the world, written by one of the best writers in the world, Marty Donald.

Written down here, gentle reader
It seems too good to be true
But there's a girl in Kansas City
With my favourite tattoo
Oh why would I lie to you?

This was in another century
Somewhere near the summer's end
The fahrenheit was frightening
I was awake the whole weekend
Invited to a barbecue
I found refuge in the kitchen
Discussing post-war US literature
With a girl whose upper arm read "fiction"
Like it might have been typewritten

I asked her its significance
She said she sometimes took reminding
What she wanted to be doing
Weather reading it or writing
I admitted admiration
For both typeface and intent
And said more softly - sotto voce -
I knew too well what she meant
She just smiled
And in a while she went

For a time I forgot this ever took place
She left her bottle on the bookcase

So though I leave you little option
But to take me at my word
I assure you, dearest listener
That it happened as you've heard
A beer left on a bookshelf
At a bygone barbecue
By a girl from Kansas City
With my favourite tattoo
Oh why would I lie to you?
Oh why would I lie to you?
Oh why would I lie?

Federal budget rant (sorry, I HAVE to!)

2005-05-11T14:23:00.000+10:00

So. The federal budget. What can I say? They're doing it all arse-about really. People with disabilities aren't going to work because you cut their pensions. They're going to work because you give them equal access to employment. Because you present them with accessible buildings and tolerance. Because employers are educated, aware and embrace workplace diversity. Because they can get on a frigging tram to get to an interview in the first place! Even those people who are supposedly objecting to the cuts are saying that we need training programs to give people with a disability the skills they need to be employed. No we don’t. I spent four years and thousands of dollars at uni getting “the skills” and yet I still spent six months unemployed. Although I’m now working full-time at a job I love, it’s not in the area I’m trained in. It’s in the disability sector, the only place I could find what I need in an employer; a building with no steps and an accessible toilet. And having less money isn’t going to make people more willing to work, it will just increase the isolation and the inability to participate in education and therefore, employment. Sheltered workshops here we come!

A good name?

2005-05-10T16:01:00.000+10:00

Hmmm... I only created this blog on the spur of the moment today and I'm a bit undecided about the name. It's from a song lyric that says "Home is where the cornflakes are". So I figured it was a good name for a homepage. Hmmm... shall have to ponder it further.