Category Archives: Uncategorized

Interrupting Cows

You know how they say never work with children or animals? That especially goes for cows.

This is a little video I put together in honour of the annoyingly awesome cows who frustrated made me smile while filming my last project (see previous post)


The Ethics of Eating Meat

This is a video I made for my major project in Practical Ethics, It even includes an interview with Animals Australia’s Glenys Oogjes, and a cameo from her dog Oscar!

The Ethics of Eating Meat

The best part? The interrupting cows right at the end.

I’m far less entertaining when I’m mentally stable

I was making myself a coffee this morning, thinking about every single thing I could do which DIDN’T involve working on my essay plan for philosophy and then BAM! I remembered I have a blog.

What better way to avoid being productive than starting an archeological dig to find it under all the layers of dust and spam?

Of course, since it’s been about a billion years since my last post I am sure you have all forgotten who I am, hell, I’VE forgotten who I used to be.  Shall I provide a quick update? Yes?

I think my last couple of posts involved popping my ambulance cherry and sniffing glue.  Strangely those things weren’t related.  Since then it’s been about 10 months and I haven’t blogged because I’ve been busy shaking things up (and I don’t mean just other peoples beer) a quick time line update in dot point form is in order (yes, I’m still lazy):

  • I received an offer for a place at a University in regional Victoria to study psychology – which I accepted!
  • Left work, sold most of my household STUFF, and packed the rest into my car for the long drive to Victoria from Queensland.
  • Since this stuff included my rather large pooch, my guitar and my surfboard there wasn’t much room.
  • Spent a couple of weeks cruising down the coast… surfing, lazing about, and generally acting like a hippie.
  • Arrived in Ballarat and after a month sleeping in a shed and struggling to find somewhere to live I FINALLY hit the jackpot and moved into a place 2 minutes from the Uni (HELLO waking up at 8.20 for an 8.30 lecture!).
  • My pooch fell in love with my landlord’s pooch.
  • I fell in love with my landlord.
  • Learnt I am good at study, after getting 3 high distinctions and a distinction in my first semester.
  • Got a red and black Mohawk.  It’s awesome.

So there you have it, a somewhat brief, incomplete update of the last 10 months.  Something I have learned though – I am FAR less entertaining when I am mentally stable!

I will attempt to post more in the interests of avoiding study, and regale you with tales of my gay dogs, vegetable garden and deep philosophical and psychological discussion.  Or maybe not.
We shall see.

My D-I-V-O-R-C-E becomes final today

Aside from having that song stuck in my head, today should be a good day, right?

After months and months of delays, process servers and rushed trips to court my marriage is finally, irreversibly and officially over.  I’m once again a free woman, and yet strangely I don’t feel like celebrating.

I really thought I’d be happy today.  I thought that closing this chapter would bring some peace to my life.  Instead it seems to have stirred up emotions I thought I had reconciled long ago.

So tonight, I am going to open an expensive bottle of wine.  I’m going to sift through the remaining possessions I have that remind me of my now ex-husband, and I’m going to think about the good times and the bad.

Then I’m going to get out my marriage certificate, light a match, and watch that fucker burn.

After that I will close this chapter once and for all, and turn a new page.  Tomorrow I will wake up and breathe in deep the scent of a fresh day and a new start.

My past has made me the person I am today, and I’m going to try my best to look forward to tomorrow.


Popping my ambulance cherry – A free-boobing story.

It was cold, raining and WAY TOO EARLY when I got up Monday morning to torture myself at the pool before work.  I packed my work clothes in my bag, with the bright idea that my brain actually functioned at zero-dark-thirty in the morning.  I should have known better.

I remembered my hair brush.  I remembered my deodorant.  I even remembered socks.  What I didn’t remember was my bra.  Running short of time, I thought to myself… no-one will notice right? It’s a thick shirt, the pockets are in the right place.  I’ll just avoid the rain, and everything will be fine.

My free-boobing escaped notice when I arrived at work and hurried to the sanctuary of my desk. Feeling brave, I picked myself up to walk over to the amenities building and that’s when things started to go horribly wrong.

My heart started beating an irregular thump.  My breath became shallow.  My chest started to feel constricted.  I made it back to my desk, and sat down feeling dizzy.  Everything seemed to settle down, and I began to wonder what was causing these strange symptoms.  Did I overdo the exercise? Is it my quit smoking medication?  Or am I simply allergic to Monday?

I got up from my chair, and it happened AGAIN.  I quickly returned to my seat, but this time the symptoms didn’t disappear.  I put my head down for a little while to no avail, and I was starting to feel like a temporary citizen. I called to speak to my doctor and described my symptoms, and he immediately told me to hang up and call an ambulance.

Longest 40 minutes of my life, waiting for the paramedics to arrive.  My heart was palpitating and racing like a three legged race horse.

When the ambulance got there, two paramedics lifted me up and put me on a stretcher.  They hooked up cables and cords and the machines around me came to life with beeps and blips.  The sprayed some awful stuff under my tongue and stuck a needle in my arm, to bring down my heart beat.

By the time I got to the hospital, my heart had slowed and regulated, and I felt less like death.  Which was great except it gave me pause to remember I was free-boobing.  Sigh.  The one and only day I forget my bra, I get carted off to hospital?  Good thing the paramedics weren’t incredibly hot, or I’d have been embarrassed.



Trying to work out which wire to cut in case it turns out I am *actually* a bomb.


After a few hours of being hooked up to machines, the hospital diagnosed me as ‘not dying’ and sent me to see my GP.  As it turns out, I am the 1 in 10,000 who ends up with severe side effects from Champix, the medication I am taking to help me quit smoking.

I always knew I was special.

Now, I am going to have to quit COLD TURKEY.  Let’s hope I can do that without stabbing anyone.

Pain & Progress: Day 4

Exercise:  4.82km Bike ride & yoga

First, sleep in.  IT’S THE WEEKEND!

Second, head winds are the work of the devil.  The heavy rain that started half way through made me want to curl up in a little ball and DIE.  The pooch, however, thought it was all wonderful and spent 5 minutes rolling around in the mud at the golf course.  At least someone enjoyed themselves.

Third, YOGA IS PAINFUL!  This is the first time I’ve done the whole routine, and I can feel how un-stretchy my muscles are.  Though I do think the people on the video are actually freaks that have no bones so I shouldn’t compare myself to them.  It was actually quite relaxing despite the pain, and it should be good to improve my muscle strength and flexibility.

Quit update: Well, at lunchtime I still hadn’t had a smoke.  Hmm.  Wondering if that’s because I slept until 10am?  Definitely smoked a lot less today, and not JUST because I was too sore.  Still no side effects as far as I can see from the meds, and if anything I am sleeping slightly BETTER than before. That really isn’t much of an achievement though.  Insomnia sucks.

Dream Diary: I had trouble falling asleep last night.  When I did, I dreamt about going to a bar with my twitter friends.  The bar had the same name as the one we attend for twitter gatherings, but looked NOTHING like it, being very dark and dingy.  The staff were extremely unfriendly, and when I asked for a Corona they gave me a ‘Corona Zero’. The girl standing next to me explained it had a straw which was lined with Cocaine and looked like a cocktail.  It tasted like a fruit tingle and I drank three in a row to no effect.  Perhaps dream-me is immune to Cocaine?

When next I approached the bar, and asked for a Corona, the girl (who looked like a vampire.  Or a drug addict.  Hard to tell the difference) served me some kind of non-alcoholic flavoured water.  Sigh.  Dream me was getting quite angry and said “Look, just give me a beer!”.  She pulled a Corona out of the fridge and proceeded to pour it into another bottle, which had cigarette butts in the bottom of it… EWWW! I said “Look, don’t fucking worry about it, I’ll ask the other bar girl”, and the next thing I knew I was being approached by bouncers and asked to leave.  Actually, to “get the fuck out” if I remember correctly.  Then they picked me up and launched me out the door, which was fine because I did a commando roll and landed facing them giving them the finger.

None of my friends appeared to care that I was thrown out and just carried on drinking inside.  Hmpf. The rest of the dream was a bit vague, but I do recall ending up at a rave, on my own, which was directly across from the bar I had been kicked out of.  So THERE.  My dream friends should have come with me because it was AWESOME.  That’s what they get for being arseholes.


Pain & Progress: Day 1


What doesn’t kill you will make you wish you were dead.

Exercise: 500m swim, bike ride (note to self: must measure ride).

I planned to get up and go for a swim before work at zero dark thirty… But accidentally set my alarm for PM instead of AM and was lucky to wake up in time to drag my tired arse to work.  Perhaps my subconscious was doing me a favour?  If so, I heart you subconscious!

Coach demanded insisted encouraged me to instead go after work.  My goal was to do 10 laps, having a breather between if necessary.  I really thought I’d have to stop halfway, and picked an outside lane for fear of drowning.

The good news? I made my 10 laps! I thought I had managed well until I got out of the pool and my body felt like dead weight.  Whose idea was this anyway?  It was TORTURE!  I had better see some benefits or else I’ll go back to the good old days where I’d get in my car to drive across the street.

After I could finally lift my arms again I drove home and sat down.  Big mistake.  Getting up again was REALLY HARD.  I was thinking about skipping the ride and spending some quality time with my couch, but the pooch had other ideas.  With his mournful looks and insistent barking at my shoes he motivated me to get on the bike and take him for a ride. One word: PAIN!

Quit Update: I’m on day two of a medication called ‘Champix’ which has a high success rate for helping people quit.  It’s supposed to suppress the urge to smoke, so I have chosen Friday the 15th October as my quit date.

It apparently has some side effects such as mood changes, nausea, insomnia and bizarre dreams.  Since I already suffer from most of those, I haven’t noticed any changes so far.

Still smoking as normal, for now.  Hopefully the meds will kick in soon and I’ll start to slow down.

Dream Diary: One of the side effects of the stop smoking meds is bizarre dreams.  Since I already HAVE bizarre dreams, you know, when I actually manage to fall asleep (insomnia sucks) I thought I’d keep track of them here so YOU can tell me if they get stranger.  Sharing is caring.

Last night’s dream featured badly cooked steak, spiders, war games and mutilated genitalia.

I was eating at a restaurant with friends, and I lifted my steak up with my fork to show them how BADLY it was cooked and a giant evil hairy spider ran out from underneath it.  A fucking SPIDER! I fled, of course.  It appears Arachnophobia is just as strong in dreams.

In the next sequence, I was playing war games when I killed someone with a flashlight.  I ran back to get his gun, and found it was an oversized butter knife (this thing was huge) that shot real bullets.  Awesome.  Someone needs to make those.

After we’d killed all of the other team, we were sitting around chatting when one of my team mates starting talking about how he had mutilated his penis.  He appeared to be trying to make the girl next to him throw up.  He said “Here, I’ll show you!” and proceeded to undo his fly… revealing a pair of lacy black women’s underwear.  Then I woke up.  So I didn’t get to see the mutilated penis.  I am both thankful and disappointed, but mostly the first thing.

My dreams are VIVID ya’ll.