Archive | May, 2014
31 May

teethI have always had a ‘thing’ for teeth…. (I think you will agree, a great smile can really set off even the most aesthetically challenged face …within some limitations) and they are often the first thing I notice when I meet someone.

But this past week has been full of odd and very random dental observations.

Mid-week I read an article about the supposed ‘new fashion’ that it taking over from skin tattooing. It involved having tattoo-like images created on crowns, so you could flash your tatt when you smile. The crowns were portrayed almost like a piece of jewellery with custom art … ALL you need is to destroy a tooth or two,(and have a pocket full of money…they weren’t cheap).  BUT, as silly as it sounds…I guess when you no longer want it, you either keep your mouth shut or have it replaced with a sparkling new, pearly white one….

Next there was my very odd dream.. It was hailing canines and molars, and Mr50something and I were running around collecting them from the ground to see which ones looked, and fitted best  a bit like a treasure hunt ….. (I have nothing more to say about that … other than the words COMPLETELY BIZARRE)

Finally, we went along to the Lyric Theatre to see Strictly Ballroom; sitting in the nose bleed section, with an amazing birds eye view of all that ‘extreme fluoro and glitter‘ … the thing that glowed as brightly as all the disco ball, was the teeth of some of the characters. I don’t know if it was a costuming effect or simply a case of great sets of chompers being highlighted by stage lighting, either way they were dazzling.

I have no idea what if anything all this tooth talk is telling me, or why I am writing about it  but its just another one of life’s little curiosities and a window to my world.




Friday night …party night ….

30 May

Friday night 1


(it’s been a BIG week for this 50something…but I’m not dead yet!)

messages from the dark side…

29 May

Well, I returned to work today despite my ‘cone of silence’…(Dr’s instructions to rest my newly plumped up vocal folds). It’s a difficult task for a chatterbox …(even one who normally has little to no voice), and being told not to even try to use it, is a challenge … BUT there was work to do and I gave it my best shot.

That was …. until late this afternoon when all signs pointed to ‘GO HOME’.go home 2

Now, I normally manage to find my way around a computer reasonably well; but I confess to never having mastered the art of Excel spreadsheets (probably due to that well know aversion I have with numbers)… Anyway, in an attempt to collate some data my good ‘50something’ work-buddy and I decided I should print a spreadsheet for ease of reading.

Bad Move !!

As I clicked the print icon, I saw the message ‘printing 8333 pages’  flash before my eyes and sat with my mouth gaping for a moment, before trying to cancel and run to the other end of the building to find the printer. Thankfully the said, (brand new) printer appeared to be calm and there was no evidence of any print job at all. Phew (wiping sweat from brow) thank god for that.

However, an hour later …

coma deathMy same good work-buddy goes to the printer. After having to remove 2 full reams of blank paper (that had somehow pumped their way through the machine), she scanned a document and emailed it to me.

Up it popped on my screen instantly … not the document we wanted … but instead this (actual)  cryptic message appeared…. Coma 0.30-0.39…Death 0.40-0.50

What the hell ??? Neither of us had ever seen anything like it, so our immediate response was to fall about laughing (again not easy when you are voiceless). We finally got out act together and thought   ‘mmm yep it’s late …perhaps it is time to go home’,  and I turned to see my computer had timed me out … and began to shut itself down.

CREEPY …but now I wonder.. ‘just who … was trying to talk to me, and what were they really saying?’  



measuring up …

28 May

Well here I am home again after last nights drug induced adventure … a bit worse for wear but all good (thank goodness for ice cream) .ice cream

So tonight we go back to nonsense and trivia … and solving the big issues.

This morning while tucking into my mini ice ream tub, I noticed that it was a home grown Tassie brand of treat, carrying the usual nutritional information (did you know there is only 98 calories in a small tub?..well that one anyway)… BUT I was staggered to see that it was labelled as being 3oz content weight…. what the?

Is Tasmania seriously THAT far behind that they still talk in pounds and ounces? I know they are tucked way down low… but surely they heard we went metric back in the early 70’s.

tassieStrangely enough I then had a conversation with a buddy later  today who made the comment ‘ah the penny drops’….followed by… ‘or is that the cent?’  (yes decimal currency arrived in 1966).

It made me stop and think how confused we can get over different measurement systems…and how we pick and choose what works for us.

I mean …. I know my weight in kg… but my height in feet and inches; I talk measurement in centimetres but ‘Mr 50something’ ONLY talks in millimetres; I talk temperature in centigrade .. but when its damn hot will always think how close it is to 100deg F? It’s long enough since we changed from pounds shillings and pence … so no big problems there … but the metric changes are a curious mix.

Our recent trips to USA just highlighted our confusion, where everything is gallons, pints, miles per hour and fahrenheit temperatures …. (but then it’s still yesterday there right now …so I guess we can forgive 😉 )

BUT Seriously Tasmania what’s going on with my 3oz ice cream ??




ice cream fixes everything…

27 May

Tonight brings you a blog with a difference (heavily medicated from a hospital bed).botox

After way too many procedures on my poor little vocal folds, I am back again to plump them up just like Bree Edelsein’s boobs or Angelina Jolie’s lips….well maybe not quite THAT much…but you get the picture.

These past 8 voiceless years have sure been a journey; complete with the good ….the bad … and the very very ugly (despite the massive amounts of cosmetic injectables). I’ve met good people, great people, interesting people  a couple of very memorable  jerks.

LOVE to be heardI been  ‘botoxed and collagened’ within an inch of my life (literally once when my airway closed over)… to slow down chaotic muscles and plump up saggy vocal folds …always balanced with a variety of natural therapies like yoga, kinesiology, acupuncture, hypnotherapy and speech therapy …. and yet we are still looking for the winning combination that will make living with a tricky neurological voice disorder more bearable.

So…tonight I am laid back in my 5 star hospital accommodation (no sign of a $7 co-payment in this establishment), with plenty of mind altering pain relief surging through my veins… and feeling a bit melancholy. I am actually feeling very privileged to be in a position to pursue the journey, and wonder what would happen if it were out of my reach like so many others.

But it doesn’t stop me sooking like a 6 year old, whose tonsils have been removed,…and raiding the freezer looking for ice-cream…. of course that it will fix everything.

Oh well …it’s onward and upward !!! There is no option to give up  I want to really be heard again…..(now off to find that ice cream)…I’m 50 Something but not dead yet !



26 May

monday 1


I like to watch …

25 May

There is no doubt that people watching is the cheapest and most entertaining way to spend your time.

If you add to this a perfect autumn day, a boat-ramp and a procession of men showing off the manhood through the size of their boats and their maritime skills …then it’s been a perfect day. boat ramp

Their need to abide by boat ramp etiquette… while being speedy and executing a ‘precision launch’ (because everyone is watching) is a recipe for disaster… Not to mention more than a few laughs (well polite sniggers) from the onlookers.

boat ramp 2From the shocking attempt to reverse in a straight line….and ending up the gutter…, to letting go of the rope and having the boat float ‘just out of reach’ … it’s a laugh a minute.

So if you are every feeling low and need that little something to give you a lift, take a chair, your sunblock  and  your dark sunglasses to hide behind… and head to the nearest boat ramp.







a woman’s perogative

24 May

I am the first to admit that I sometimes get things wrong … BUT for many years I have argued a point that is debated in households across the globe; and believed I was right…That is, until today!toilet paper

Since the advent of toilet paper, the question of which way it should hang from the roll has been the topic of much domestic disharmony…

In fact, just recently I laughed when a young newly-wed came to work with this exact issue…he and his new bride could not agree and the argument was on …..  ‘against the wall’ vs ‘free falling’….who would win?

Personally I have ALWAYS been a ‘wall girl’, insisting that it was tidier…BUT for some reason this morning I had a complete change of heart and actually reversed the roll almost without thinking …and it immediately felt right. I have no idea what happened to cause this brain snap and it surprised me enormously but hey I’m a ’50 Something woman and I’m not dead yet’ so it’s my perogative.

I wonder …which way do you roll?


enough said …

23 May




what’s the parson got to do with it?

23 May

chookGenerally speaking my choice in food is fairly healthy… but my one real weakness is the chooks bum… parson’s nose…sultan’s nose …pope’s nose (or “pygostyle” to be formal).

Call it what you will …there is nothing better that that tender juicy (and oh so fatty) little bulge at the chooks vents. …. as long as it is extra well cooked and crunchy on the outside.

BUT I have  a problem….

…you see,  the local BBQ chicken store seems to lose a lot of bums. I have no idea where they go ( UNLESS there is someone in the shop that loves them too …and perhaps helps them to fall off during the rotisserie process). chook 2

It’s become so ridiculous that I now ask for a BBQ Chicken “with a bum.. please”.

This odd request is made even more amusing given my vocal challenge… 99% of the time I am asked to repeat myself…but  I never know if it is difficulty understanding me or understanding why I would be making such an odd request.

I know that they are not good for me … but it’s one small indulgence, that is not only tasty, but somehow provides a degree of illicit amusement. They never ever make it all the way home without being eaten in the solitude of my car (but shhhhh… don’t tell anyone)