Monthly Visitor

One of the very few things I hate about being a woman, is the fact that every month, without fail, for one week, I feel like crap. Sure, there are many days aside from this one week that I feel like crap, but that one week, where my darn “monthly visitor” arrives I just feel absolutely horrible. I feel drained, tired, my belly aches, my breasts ache, I’m crabby, and all I want to do is sleep. I’m a pill to be around, and truthfully I wouldn’t want to be around myself . For the most part, I am usually okay before my monthly visitor arrives. I am lucky in the aspect, that w/o fail I’ll have the PMS symptoms and then it’s monthly visitor time. I have a pretty regular monthly visitor, and that’s not with any help. But I just wish the monthly visitor wasn’t so annoying.

How much out of wack does the monthly visitor put on my schedule? If my cramps are so bad, or I just feel like absolute sh*t, I will not go to work. If I’m wanting to go swimming, I usually won’t, just b/c I don’t like the idea of wearing a tampon while in water. I usually have to watch what color clothes I wear, just in case I start w/o any protection. And just knowing that my monthly visitor has arrived, that just puts a dampen on the whole week. Not to mention, the “waiting” period for the monthly visitor to “finish” it’s business, that’s pretty annoying as well.

If I had it my way, I’d get everything taken out right NOW. I know it really isn’t a laughing matter, and getting a hysterectomy isn’t the answer to getting rid of the monthly visitor. But I so often wish I didn’t have to worry about the horrible fact that being a woman means having this monthly visitor. I know women should embrace this wonderful “thing” but c’mon, how can we embrace something that is so utterly annoying? Could you guess that I’m a bit peeved and annoyed? I know there is much more to a hysterectomy and that I’d have to take hormones the rest of my life. But why couldn’t I have been one of those women that didn’t get her monthly visitor, or didn’t get it very often? I know, there are other health related issues to worry about if one doesn’t get their monthly visitor. But I’m talking about in a perfect world, which I know one doesn’t exist. I wanna throw a tantrum, I wanna rip out my fallopian tubes and flush them down the toilet.

Ugg, I can’t stand monthly visitor time. And I'm going to whinge and whinge and whinge. Other than that, I LOVE being a woman.

-current mood-BLOATED from my monthly visitor

Stripping off shirt in public

As the US Open tennis wires down to the end, I reflect on the past 2 weeks of good ol’ tennis action. I’m a huge tennis fan and watch all 4 grandslams on tv. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to be able to attend one of them, the Australian Open. The US Open has had some great games, and some great players have been taken out pretty quickly. There’s been all around, good sportsmanship and not too much controversy.

However, during the first week, I remember reading in the newspaper an editorial here in Australia about Alicia Molik (an Australian tennis player) who happened to take her shirt off to change them during the duration of her game. Someone was writing about how they agreed that tennis should be equal in all aspects, but the line had to be drawn when it came to allowing both genders to change shirts. Also on the news, on the radio, Alicia Molik was also mentioned. In reading the newspaper articles (not editorials) Alicia was simply saying that she was hot and sweaty, she needed to change her shirt. She spends thousands of dollars on sports bras a year, why not do some advertising for it. But she was going to take her shirt off to change it, no matter what. It wasn’t as if she was trying to make a scene.

So why is there a double standard in tennis when it comes to people taking off their shirts? People believe that Alicia taking off her shirt was “revealing.” How much more revealing could she get, aside from taking OFF her bra? What she was wearing underneath her shirt, probably had more covered than what many of us women wear as bathing suits. In the media, they have advertisements for lingerie, bras and panties that are visible to everyone, either on tv or in magazines. So how come people are not writing editorials about that? What makes a female sports figure a target when ever she reveals her bra? What else is she revealing? And why is it more socially acceptable for a woman to be wearing something skimpier than her bra and panties on the beach? Sure, the media isn’t there, but it’s far more revealing than what Alicia Molik revealed.

I remember way back a few years ago, or a number of years ago, one of the US women’s soccer team players took off her shirt and revealed her sports bra, after they had won a major event. That again, was a HUGE controversy. I can remember the headlines, and how taken aback people were. I just don’t understand the whole reason why people have to be so modest. Like I’ve said, it’s not as thou these players were showing off something. They were either simply changing their shirt, or they were celebrating. Their actual body parts are hidden. Do people think that showing off bras is something that is to be kept hidden? That bras are a private matter? Bras are a part of everyone’s life, why do we need to be ashamed of them, or cause an up roar if one is revealed?

Personally, I thought to myself “who cares?’ Good on Alicia for changing her shirt. She may have had people google at her, but just as people google at Andy Roddick when he’d take off his shirt. If skin is going to be revealed, people are going to look, it’s going to attract attention. I believe there was another female tennis player that did the same thing. It just doesn’t make sense to me why people even care!! But then again, anything to cause a story right??

-current mood-EXCITED, FOR FOOTY TONIGHT

Migration agent loves to talk

Today, my partner and I went to meet with the GLITF migration agent at his house. We got there a little early so we ended up going to the park right near his house and wait there in the beautiful sunshine. Talk about a beautiful day. Where we live, it was windy as, still is. But where this MA lived it was absolutely beautiful. Anyhoo, we go back to his house and ring the door bell. No answer, so we go back to the car and just as we go to sit down on the side walk, he pulls up in his car.

We did our usual greetings and then he started talking. And OMG, he would NOT stop talking. Now, to paint a mental picture in your head, this man is probably in his late 60’s, early 70’s, gay of course, has a little white mustache, and bags like you wouldn’t believe under his eyes. He was a wonderful man, great help to us, but man, he could talk the leg off a chair!! As soon after we said hello, he proceeded to tell us where he’d been to lunch and how wonderful it was for him to be out with a bunch of other gentlemen and how he recommends this place he went to. My partner piped in and said “yeh if we’re ever in this neck of the woods again..being that we live over an hour away.”

Anyway, we walked into his house and instantly, it smelled like moth balls Must be something about older people and moth balls, they must be pack rats. It’s always interesting to go to someone elses’ house, especially if you don’t know them very well, just to see “how they live.” He tells is to go into the lounge. The lounge, now you’d expect a tv, a couch, a coffee table maybe yeh? No, this place had a couch, a table, and the rest of the area was taken up by bookshelves full of books about immigration and Australian citizenship. I was flabbergasted at how many books this MA had, I couldn’t believe it. If only I had more time, I would have loved to have browsed thru all of them. This guy must have been collecting them for YEARS. I do believe he worked for the immigration department all those years ago when he was just a young lad. But he was informative on his immigration laws knowledge.

We proceeded to sit down and he kept on talking. He was explaining to us about the fact that he needed to register for his MA license again and that he was sick on his birthday, and and that. Finally after about 30 minutes of just talking mumbo jumbo, we got to our paperwork. But even then, after every single question I asked, or even during, he had a story to tell. I wasn’t feeling the greatest (I think I’m coming down with something) and all I wanted was to hurry up and get the questions answered and then leave. Nope, not a possiblity, this man, anything you said, he had a story to tell you. I think after about 1.5 hours of being at his house we finally finished. But we only came to ask about 5 questions, and to talk about our immigration application. I never thought we’d get out of there. I reckon if we HAD stayed for afternoon cuppa, we’d still be there! The MA was a great help, but boy could he talk, and talk, and talk. Gotta love the ol’ bugger.

-current mood- TIRED AND DRAINED

Cookies, what a disaster!

I made cookies, and let me tell you, they turned out absolutely horrible!! Back in the states, there is one common type of flour “all-purpose” flour. That flour is used for everything, cookies, bread (sometimes), cakes, pretty much anything. Here in Australia, there is “plain flour” and “self-raising” flour. The difference is, self-raising flour has bi-carbonate soda (I’m assuming baking soda in USA terms) and the extra bi-carb soda helps make what ever it is you’re cooking, to rise. I thought to myself “self, I will use plain flour because it’s not cake or bread. Little did I realize, that cookies DO rise. So I’m busy making my recipe and put a batch in the oven. To my surprise when I opened the oven door, the cookies were flat as a pancake, probably even flatter than that. The cookies turned out awful. The first batch crumbled at the mere touch of them. The others, (YES, I DID finish out the batch) I didn’t keep in as long, so they were more gewy.

I showed them to my partner and she couldn’t stop laughing. I told her, it has to do with the name of the cookies, and where the recipe came from. Years ago, when Clinton was running against George Bush Sr, a magazine came out with a recipe..battle of the canidates, and the recipe I so happened to try last night, were ones that were from George Bush’s family. So in all the laughter, the fact that they were Bush cookies, it made it all the more better for me.

But looking at how horrible my cookies turned out, it brought me back to my freshmen year of Home Economics. I remember when we formed cooking groups, a couple of the girls in my class were at tiffs with me (who knows why, typical high school drama I’m sure) so I ended up getting grouped with two girls I hardly even liked. Our first project that we had to do, was bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Our cookies turned out horrible as well. They were flat, and just looked like a blob. I was mortified, knowing that I knew how good of a cook I was. Something had happened, something was either not put in or something else was put in thinking it was something. Even thou our cookies turned out horribly, we still had to “show” them to the other groups. Can you imagine, all these other cookies that turned out better than ours, and then ours there, this blob of what. I can laugh about it now, but then, with the combination of the cat fight I was having with the other girls, and just knowing that I was a good cook it didn’t make for a good experience for me. Luckily I still managed to get an A out of that class, and I think truthfully, those cookies were the only “mess up” we ever did.

-current mood- FULL, from eating a big dinner

Tattoos and Piercings

I was watching a body modification special on the National Geographic channel awhile back and the things that people get up to amazes me. I myself am on the less of “extreme” when it comes to body modification. I have 3 tattoos, and have a few piercings. For me, the purpose of tattoos and piercings is either for aesthetic appearances or because the tattoos have sentimental value to me. As they are for most people I think who have them. If you were to see me walking down the street, you would have no idea that I had 3 tattoos. I have my ears pierced 3 times, my cartilage pierced, as well as my belly buttom done. But when people see me, they don’t perceive me in a way that they’d probably perceive someone who had visible tattoos or piercings all over their bodies.

When I see people who have many piercings and tattoos I often ask myself “why do they choose to do this?” People have asked me “why did you choose to do what you did?” And my only answer is because I wanted to. People then ask “well, when you’re 80, what are you going to say about your piercings and tattoos?” And I explain to them “when I’m 80, am I really going to care? Do I have that low of a self esteem to be worried about old tattoos or piercings I got when I was in my 20’s? I highly doubt it.” I have a few tattoos, they’re nothing extreme, and no one can see them except for my partner, or sometimes when I’m on the beach with a two piece on. I am still “presentable” but yet I feel like I’ve been able to express myself in the way that I feel is comfortable for me.

But when I see a very tattood individual I DO ask myself “why DO they do this? Personally I don’t find it very attractive seeing someone who has tattoos all over their bodies and them so pierced they could set off a metal detector. But I understand it’s a way of expression, it’s how people express themselves differently than others around them. But am I more inclined to feel comfortable doing service with someone who has no visible tattoos, as compared to someone who has a lot of them? I hate to say this, but the answer is yes. I know there is nothing wrong with people who have many tattoos, but there is just some comfort level that I subconsciously fear when I am confronted with someone who has a lot of tattoos and piercings. It’s not an intimidation or fear factor, it’s more of “weird” factor for me. I know weird isn’t a good word to use, not at all, but I feel a bit taken aback sometimes when I see a very visibly pierced and/or tattood individual. I often wonder if they slice their tongues like a snake, or tattoo their whole face, or brand themselves for surprise value. They want to use this “shock” value toward other people. Other times, there seems to be an euphoric sort of feeling when someone gets a tattoo, piercing or some other form of body modification. Tattoo artists DO say that tattoos are addicting, and they are. But I seem to be able to know when to say “stop.” But what’s comfortable for me, may not be comfortable for someone else. Just like some people may wrinkle up their noses when they find out I have at least 1 tattoo. I used to think they were for “bad arse” people, but they of course are not.

But when people get tattoos or piercings, do they ever wonder how it’s going to affect their chances of getting a job? Back in the states, there are a number of companies and jobs that do not allow facial piercings, no more than 2 earring holes in each ear, and no tattoos to be visible when it comes to job prospects. Where I worked for 2 years in the states, I worked with a lot of youth where one of their main goals was to find a job. But a lot of them were out of luck because they had piercings and tattoos. Here in Australia, I find it to be a lot more laid back in terms of “allowances” with physical appearance. When I go out either to the grocery store or some place where customer service is going to happen, I have seen a number of people who have piercings and tattoos. The individuals make themselves presentable, they’re clean and they look professional. I guess here in Australia the whole “culture” is a lot more laid back, hence why it’s more socially acceptable to be tattood or pierced.

-current mood- SLEEPY

True Meaning of Sportsmanship

This weekend we went and saw Kicking and Screaming with Will Ferrell. The movie itself was cute, not something I’d probably go to the theater and watch again. But during the movie, it brought back a lot of memories for me. When I was younger, I played on a co-ed soccer team. I didn’t get to play much, and I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that it was co-ed and I wasn’t as “aggressive” as the boys were. However it was a good learning experience for me, and I often wonder what would have happened, had I kept up with the soccer. Also growing up, I played on a co-ed softball team, and yet again, I rarely played. I think I spent most of my time in left field, counting the flowers. I didn’t take it seriously, but maybe because I didn’t get to play as often as I would have liked, it was just easy to put me in such a position.

For kids, sports is something to be fun. It’s a fun activity where you get to meet other kids, other parents and join in something that may give you confidence. Both in the movie, and in being a player myself, I realized that sports and playing on a team was about having fun and enjoying the game. Being 10-11 years old, winning wasn’t everything. Of course it was nice to win, but I never felt like I had to compete with other teams. If we lost, we lost and we would wait till the next season to hopefully improve on our game. Having parents there to help support us, that is what we wanted. We wanted our parents to be proud of us for playing the game and keeping up with the sport.

But when parents begin to get too involved in the game, that is when things become an issue. It also becomes an issue when the coach starts overlooking the true meaning of sportsmanship and focuses all their attention on winning. In the movie Will Ferrell’s character started going mad about his position as a coach. He was more interested in winning than playing all the members of the team and enjoying the game. And even thou his own son was on the team, Will’s character overlooked this and didn’t realize just how much of an impact it had made on his son, when he forgot about him.

This brings memories back to middle school basketball for me. I started playing basketball when I was 12 years old I believe. I wanted to be a part of something, so I joined the local boys and girls club and joined a team. I had a great coach, and even thou I wasn’t the greatest player on the team, this coach actually gave me a chance. When I started middle school basketball it was a whole different aspect. This coach was more focused on winning, and there were many times where I didn’t play. He would make us dress down for the game, but he would play only about 5 people for the whole game. My love for the game was deteriotating and I became intimidated by other players (one girls in particular) on the team.

I still played school basketball, but when I played for the local boys and girls club, it was as if I was a completely different person. Not only was the one girl that I didn’t like not playing, but this coach believed in me. He knew that if he kept on playing me, I’d become a better player and become more confident. In 7-8th grade I became one of the starters on the team, opponents didn’t want to play against me, I started to gain a reputation for being a really good player. Maybe it was because there were not as many people on the team, or maybe it was because I knew this coach believed in me, and he believed in the game more than in winning.

I didn’t play my freshmen year of high school, but decided my sophomore year I was going to play. High school is completely different in terms of what it really means to play sports. The competition is much more fierce and people are a lot more aggressive. Sophomore year I played every single game on junior varsity. I enjoyed playing on junior varsity because I was with people who respected me, had a coach who respected me, and wasn’t so focused on winning. We didn’t have a winning season my sophmore year, but I can say that, that was one of the greatest years ever I played basketball.

The next year, I was a little anxious about playing because my worst nightmare came true. The coach that gave me so little respect in middle school, yes, was going to be my coach. I hardly got any playing time, yet again, and there were so many times after a game I just cried on the bus ride home. I couldn’t understand why a coach would bench me for the whole game. If I wasn’t going to play, why did I dress down for it? I know it’s about sportsmanship and being there for my team-mates but it was humiliating for me. As the season wore on, the varsity coach started to take notice of me, and he would make me dress down for the varsity games. Even if I didn’t play, or played for like 1-2 minutes I got a secret sense of excitement, b/c someone was paying attention to me, and to my game.

That didn’t last very long thou. My senior year, as a senior, it’s required for you to be on varsity…and I hardly ever played. The only time I’d play was if we were beating a team by a huge amount of points, or we were losing by a lot. If it was a lost cause, I was put into the game. I got a little jealous that freshmen players would play before me, but what could I do? They were much better players than me. But I tried to talk to my parents about it, and how could I improve on my game if I wasn’t allowed to play? There were many times where the coach would put me in if there were like only a few minutes left in the game. The last game of the season the coach was going to put me in the last 3 minutes of the game. He felt bad I think, that he hadn’t played me. It was a playoff game, but nonetheless, it looked doubtful that we’d ever catch up so he pulled me over and told me to get ready. I looked at him and I said “I don’t want to play.” After the game was over, I cried and told him just how I felt. I felt humiliated to be asked to play in the final minutes of a game. I understood I wasn’t a star player, but if he was only going to play me out of pity, I didn’t want to play. The coach could see how upset I was. I ended up lettering in basketball, and I got the coach’s award. But it meant nothing to me.

Where have the days gone where people play for the love of the game? Why is it all about trophies and winning championships? Why is there such fierce competition, even in little league games? You hear about how parents get out of control and either end up killing a coach or another player because their own child wasn’t put in the game. What kind of sportsmanship is that? Where did the true meaning of sports go? It seems like as the years go on and on, the competition for sports gets more and more drastic. Why can’t we all go back to the days where we lollied around in the fields and laughed and joked with our team-mates? I miss playing sports, but I don’t miss the competitiveness.

People have told me that good things probably could have come about, had I kept up with my gymnastics. But gymnastics to me was for fun, it was a social call. When I see how gymnists are pushed by their coaches and their parents, I am glad that I didn’t keep up with it. When I hear about girls who are anorexic and bullemic because their coaches tell them they’re too fat to be a gymnist or a pole vaulter, I am so glad that I didn’t keep up with my sports. It would be great to be born with such a great talent to where you would be able to get money for doing what you love. But at some point in time, there is a line that is drawn, and the difference between loving the game and doing it b/c you want to win money is finally revealed.

Sports is a great thing, but not when it comes at the expense of hurting yourself or others. Sports is supposed to be about fun, winning is only a small fraction of the whole picture. And unfortunately a lot of kids get pushed into sports when they don’t want to, and it’s b/c coaches push them or their own parents do. Great if you have a gifted child, but make it the child’s decision whether to keep up with the sport. And if they lose, don’t get all up in their face about it. Comfort them when they lose, and congratulate them when they win. But make sports about them, not about you.

-current mood- Average

Very Brief Update

My partner and I went to our GLITF meeting this evening. The meeting that we were not sure we were going to be able to attend because of Father’s Day. But lucky enough, we had Father’s Day lunch, and were able to head off and be at the meeting at the proper time. I started to get nervous last night. Not sure why I was so nervous, other than the fact that I knew we’d have to talk to someone. I get a little anxious when I know that I have to talk to someone about such “official” matters.

We get to the meeting a little early and I go up to one of the gentleman and ask him if he’s a migration agent.” He proceeded to tell me that the GLITF meeting was going to start in 10 minutes, that he couldn’t talk unless I was a member.” I told him I was a member and that I wanted him to look over our application after the general meeting. He kind of gave me the brush off…and then passed me onto another gentleman. He proceeded to tell me that he wasn’t going to be able to stay after the meeting to help us out. But he did arrange a time for my partner and I to come to his place. It’s yet another trip, and my partner has to take the night off because she works in the evenings, till 2AM. But we managed to make an appointment.

I feel sort of better with the fact that there are not going to be others around, however I know I”ll get anxious because I’m just afraid of what the migration officer is going to say about our application. I know we have a good application, but we did ours a bit different than maybe what they’re expecting? We were given a guideline and we followed it, but not to the T. Plus we have some questions in regards to the actual application. It’s hard to believe that if we don’t cross our “t’s” and dot our “I’s” our application could be refused. I know we probably don’t have anything to worry about, but I’m just the sort of person that DOES worry. I wish I didn’t worry so much, but it’s always been in my nature to do so. Thursday, can I wait that long . Oh I know I’m going to have to!!

-current mood- ANXIOUS