Dolled up in NYC. After this week's frumpy shots, I had to balance things out lest the blogosphere should implode.
Note: This was gonna be called “31 Things…” in light of my age (REVOLUTIONARY!) but then I just thought, heck, 21 is plenty. Is it not? I dunno. You be the judge. If required, I will add the extra 10 later. That will be the umbrella to this cocktail. Dig.
So, after my recent babbling about being more real on here, I was most inspired by this post to spew forth even more of my innards like a baddy in a Kill Bill movie.
If you’re not into that, then look away, change channels or keep on reading and try not co cry into your popcorn. There is such a thing as too salty, you know.
1. I did a double major in Film and TV at uni and absolutely LOVED it. I got to watch movies for homework and write assignments about Star Wars: the tertiary dream.
2. I went to Bond University. This was back in the days when it was the only private uni in Australia and as a result, was stocked to the rafters with exceptionally wealthy people.
Some of them were ridiculously wealthy. I remember chatting to one guy about the rumoured financial crisis that the university was in at the time. His response? “I’m not worried. My Dad could buy this place tomorrow if he wanted to.” He was serious.
That said, I also met some very rocking people indeed and as said above, I LOVED the actual study part!
But overall, I felt a bit out of place (I was there on a scholarship) and dealt with this very healthily. You know, exactly what the therapist would have prescribed: diving into alcohol, dyeing my hair black – oh dear heavens, if you’re blonde and intend to go back to blond then do NOT ever do that – and taking great joy in parking my beat-up beautiful VW bug unlocked next to Porsches.
3. I lived in Canada for two years and to this day, seeing pictures of it makes me want to cry I miss it so much. I have a book on the backburner about our time living as a family there. I truly TRULY want it to see the light of day. It just seems cruel locking it in the basement and feeding it burnt porridge.
4. I am terrified of losing the people I love. It’s a pretty obvious by-product of having lost my mum when I was 5. (Where IS she?!)
Just kidding. She very sadly passed away from an anyeurism. As a result, to this day I have to slap myself in the face with a cold salmon calm myself down if hubby is really late getting home.
5. I can have a very dark sense of humour at times. But now that you’ve read no. 4, you kinda know that, don’t you? So this one’s made redundant. Number five: YOU’RE FIRED!
6. While I desperately wish I could be cool enough to just love my body whatever its condition, I really struggle to be cool with this postnatal (x3!) bod. I’ve recently joined Weight Watchers. The first few weeks I lost 4.1kg. The last two weeks I put on 1.2kg. I actually shed a tear. A good thing too. I think it took off 50g.
7. I was raised by my grandma. I point this out now, following point number 6, as – while I don’t blame her for my body struggles per se – it is somewhat of a question mark to me that she will say things like:
“You look good in LONG skirts!” and
“Ooh, dark colours really flatter your figure!”
Or she’ll just give me a pair of her pants with a “I THINK these will fit you. They’re really huge…”
…all the while shoving cream buns down my throat.
8. I really have a soft spot for RSL’s. What can I say? While many of my peers were brought up playing with their parents at the local park, I was chowing down roasts and crossing my fingers we’d win the chook raffle.
9. I also have a soft spot for old people full-stop. Not just soft, but rather porous. Seriously. Sometimes just the sight of an old person can bring tears to my eyes. I then ask them kindly to take the walking stick off my toe. KAPOW!
10. I used to be absolutely terrified, horrified and scared pantless by snakes. Until I moved to Canada. Suddenly, when confronted by the possibility of being mauled to death by a grizzly bear, seeing the odd snake just didn’t seem that bad. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not a fan. But I can deal.
11. I used to be so mean to my little sister. I feel so awful about it now and have apologised profusely. She was the sweetest little thing, you see and I would take full advantage of it. For example, we would cut these deals where she would agree to whip me up a little platter of snacks, in return for me tickling her back. (Yep. Tickling. Her. Back.) ANd so it was she’d skip into the room, hand me my most delightful platter and then say “Okay! I’m ready for you to tickle my back!” Whereupon I would smile sweetly, look her straight in the eye while munching down on my treats and say: “Nup.”
And she fell for it EVERY TIME.
Now that we’re adults though, I realise that this wasn’t all bad. I was after all, fully preparing her for marriage.
12. I’ve lived in Brisbane, Melbourne, Sydney, Canmore (Canada), High River (Canada), Toowoomba and the Sunshine Coast..
13. I used to keep a diary, starting on my 10th birthday. I still have it. I used to be so straight laced that I would write “So-and-so is a bitch” and then scribble out the “b” word and write “meanie”. In my DIARY. That only I would ever see! Mama mia.
14. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake in not doing Law. My grandma really wanted me to go down that path (thankfully she’s very supportive of my chosen path these days) and while most of the time, I’m happy with following my heart, there are moments when I look at our finances and start thinking of a parallel universe where I’m living in NYC as a high-flying lawyer type. Honestly though? I think I’d be depressed.
15. Then again, I already am. But I do know myself well enough to know that following the performing and writing dreams is something I would have always wondered about and lamented not following.
16. My daughter was completely and utterly unplanned. I was 22 and had just moved to Sydney to become an ac-tor. It’s quite a saga of a story, one which I don’t feel like sharing here right now but is a very big part of the show I wrote in Canada. The nutshell version? At the time it felt like the worst thing that could possibly have happened, but as it turns out, it was the best thing that could possibly have happened.
Anybody like some sour cream with their cheese?
17. Baby number two was totally planned. And I will never ever EVER have two kids 20 months apart EVER AGAIN. Egh.
18. Baby number three was totally planned. While we were in Canada. We had been umming and aahing about whether to go for number three for ages, when I came across some old journal entries I’d written to myself. One of them said something like “we’ve decided not to have a third baby for now. Things are going well career-wise, I don’t want to disrupt that, maybe in a year or two.” As I read it I realised that even though I’d written that a couple of years before, nothing had changed. My reasons for not having another one were always going to be the same. We did it. And I’m so happy we did. My Cass-meister lights up my life.
19. Sometimes I think I want another baby, sometimes I think that’s completely insane. The thing is, knowing that we almost didn’t have Cassidy, and then knowing how much I adore him to bits, makes me think “well, what about the next one? Surely I’ll feel the same about him/her?” Cos I know I would. But where do you stop? I’d feel the same about the next one after that. And after that. And before you know it I’m a mother of eighteen with a budget for wall organisers and fridge magnets and her own reality TV show.
Hmm. At least I’ve got a back-up plan if this whole comedy thing doesn’t pan out.
20. I wrote a letter to Alan Ball after finishing Six Feet Under. I never sent it, but that’s how moved I was. I spent the week watching it way too late at night and crying like a pregnant Banshee.
My hubby was all “I don’t get it. It’s NOT REAL!”
Note: he didn’t actually watch it.
And I’m all: “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! They’re my FRIENDS! Now please, leave me alone as I tango with pain!”
21. I read the entire “Harry Potter” series while I was waiting to pop with baby number 3. At times this involved sitting in the bathroom all night after taking castor oil to try to get things moving. What can I say? You haven’t really read Harry Potter until you’ve read it with cramps.
Okay, your turn. Spill!