Good morning, Readers!

wSo, on the 14th of this month, I posted an article on my Facebook Page.  It was an awful article; a misogynist screed written by an absolute prig who understands neither femininity nor masculinity.  If you're interested, here is a link to the article, saved on a website that isn't his to ensure that he doesn't benefit from increased traffic as a result of his hateful idiocy, but I will warn you, this article sent me into an apoplectic rage.

As it turns out, most of the people this article reached were decent folk, who shared my outrage.  I mean, the article in question is absolute horse shit from start to finish.  I could wast my time breaking it all don to destroy the article, but that would require me to write a dissertation.  I'm not really that invested any more.

Just take it from me, a martial arts training, female badass (ahem... alright, maybe not badass.  Goofball?  Goofball works), that the idea that women are always frail and soft and naturally uninterested in anything martial (and traditionally masculine) is utter shit.

Anyway, back to the point.  Most everyone was sharing their outrage, and it was directed at the right person: the author of that article.  And then there was this guy:

Yes, shame on me for sharing this article.

How dare I shed light on the pervasive hatred that underscores a woman's lived experience far too often.

FOR SHAME!

Except, I'm not ashamed.

Here's the deal, random guy who decided to strike out at me for making you uncomfortable, instead of the guy whose fault it actually is, the attitudes in this article are shared by more than the dude who wrote that article.  I have seen these very attitudes in play.  I have been told, to my face, about how women are "naturally" suited to low-wage work, or fainting at the sight of blood, or motherhood.  I have been told. to my face, that I am not ladylike enough to be attractive.  I have had friends, who might otherwise be sensible people, note that I am "mannish" for liking the things I like and doing the things I do.

One quote, which will stay with me forever:

No.  No, I'm not.  I'm very much a woman.  I just happen to be a woman who loves swords and archery, armour and martial arts.

And I know I'm not the only woman who is.  People who think otherwise have absolutely zero clue about women.

These attitudes infect even decent people, people who espouse ideals of equality, but believe that women just aren't "built" for a career in STEM fields, or are all "natural mothers" no exceptions.

Sometimes, too often, these attitudes are couched in hate, for whatever reason.  Sometimes, like the author of the offending article, some people use religion as justification for their hatred and cluelessness.

And here's the thing, when women speak up, when we say, "Hey, this is a problem!" the most common answer we get, even from well-meaning people, is, "What? I don't see this at all. It's not a problem. You're over-reacting."

Articles like the one I linked to serves as proof.  "See?" I can say.  "I have evidence!  Look.  HERE IS THE EVIDENCE, WRITTEN (badly) IN PLAIN ENGLISH!  Now do you believe us?"

And we get, "You should be ashamed for sharing this article."

We just can't fucking win, can we?

Well, here's the thing.  I'm not going to stop sharing these articles.  Why?  Because I am fucking exhausted of not being trusted as a witness to the events in my own life.  I'm tired of being brushed off when I try and tell people that there is a problem.  Every chance I get, I will post the evidence.

Sure, it's fucking affronting.  Now try living with this shit shoved in your face all the damned time.

If the article I shared upset you.  Good.  It was supposed to.  It upsets me every single day, and I don't need an article to know these attitudes exist and are pervasive.

If you're angry at me for sharing the proof, for showing that women aren't actually a bunch of hysterical liars, well, that's on you.  Deal with it.

I have to.

And maybe, just maybe enough, if people see how much of a problem this is, they might actually start seeing that there actually is a problem.  Maybe, just maybe, something will be done about this problem.

So I will continue to unashamedly share articles that vex me (as well as the ones that make me giggle).  Because apparently women can't be trusted to tell their own stories.  And the world needs more proof than millions of women saying the exact same thing.

Rage against me if you want, but your anger is misdirected.  Perhaps you should aim it towards the prigs who deserve it - the mysognyistic morons who write these kinds of articles.

Now I'm off to (non-gendered) work.

Ciao.

Good morning, Readers!

So, I was on the bus this morning, on the way to work, when I received this text from the Amazing Flatmate:

My response was laughter.  So much laughter.  Oh the pun!

And then I stopped, because this is actually a fucking fantastic idea.

But it's not mine, so I won't feel comfortable using it...  Unless it's for charity!  So, I'm announcing - without having had any time to actually think about it and how much work this will inevitably be - another Your Very Own Adventure story!

Skara Braens; a tale of the rise of the living neolithic...

I need a few weeks to research some stuff before I get started, so I'm thinking this won't start until about mid May.  I won't be running this one on my blog this time.  I have a wattpad.com page I've done virtually nothing with, so that's where this story will go.

I'll post up the rules there in the next couple of days.  Be sure you're following me on wattpad.com.  Click here to go to my profile and follow.

Pray for me people... I have no idea what I'm doing!  So far, all I have is the title.  Hopefully there'll be the bare sketch of story needed for me to start the YVOA story on time next month.

Alright, I'm off to have a panic attack resulting directly from this announcement.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, this morning I was thinking.

I know.  Shocking.

But I was thinking about my life.  You see, when I was a youngin', I imagined my future as all youngin's tend to. I wanted to fly AF-18s as a young teen.  When I realised that I'd fail in the military (I apparently have an issue with obeying orders without knowing why whatever I'm ordered to do must be done), I decided that maybe I'd be an attorney - a really kick-arse prosecution attorney.

Of all the things I imagined myself to be, a writer simply was not one of them.  I mean, I had always written, and I read voraciously, I just didn't think it was any kind of career to aspire to.

Now, as an adult, and a writer. I find myself contemplating a different life.

Only, here's the thing, despite all my years of world-building in which practically anything is possible, I simply cannot imagine having a different life.  At least, I cannot imagine having a different life and being happy.

What might I be doing now, if I hadn't set my heart on making a career of my writing?

A kick-arse attorney?  Probably, actually.  I'd be busting balls all over the courtroom.  I can be pretty aggressive and extremely competitive sometimes.  It's not a trait I particularly foster in this life, but sure as hell I'd feed those wolves if my career demanded it.

In that life, however, I also see myself alone and lonely.  Not for lack of friends, mind you, but for the things I'd have to repress to have those friends.  No flights of fancy.  No confessions of how much I would love to try LARPing.  No unabashed, sparkly-eyed gushing over fantastic worlds and characters...

Now I have absolutely no doubt that amongst this fictitious group of friends, there would be people who love these things, even participate in them (as there must be in real life).  Judging, however, on how I felt growing up - alone and isolated in my love for all things so incredibly nerdy - I'm fairly certain that I would not be willing to talk about it openly, if I was a ball-busting prosecution attorney.  I would have a reputation to maintain.  That reputation would be all straight lines and sharp angles, no space for softer curves or bizarre shapes.

With my current group of friends, I can confess my weirdness and not feel in the least bit judged.  My current circle of friends are the same kind of weird!

And what would my inner life be like?  Would I have kept on writing if I'm up late studying writs and torts and crime scene evidence?  Likely not.  There would be nowhere for all the stories and characters, deeds and worlds in my head to go.  They'd all be up there, screaming like mad, but squashed down and repressed in an attempt to silence them so I could get some work done.

I'd probably land in a nuthouse, to be honest.  Half the reason I write is to shut my brain up for two seconds...

And here is a very depressing thought: had I chosen not to pursue this writing thing, I likely wouldn't have the friends I do now.  I'd have made different friends in university; friends more interested in law and criminal studies than elves and prose and make-believe.  I would not have gone to conventions that led to the friendships I have now.  I'd have friends, I don't doubt, but not these friends.  The mere thought of not knowing these people makes me sad.

Might I have met someone and married them by now in this other life?  Probably.  But then, I placed greater importance on this when I was younger and imagining my life as an attorney.  Now, I just don't care enough about it to make it a priority.  I mean, if I meet someone I reckon I could live with for more than five minutes, great!  But it's not a goal for me in this life, and so it's just not something I work towards.  In my other life?  Well, since it was part of my life plan, then I'd have tracked that sucker and pinned him down!

This is a really long, ramblely way of saying that my life is not where I thought it would be, and that's the best thing possible.  In this life, I'm fulfilled.  Sure it's not all sunshine and roses.  I'm poor, and likely will be for a little while yet.  I'm unmarried and not dating (thought honestly the worst thing about that is putting up with other people's judgement).  I'm not selling all that well.  There have been many breakdowns and tearful fits.

Still, I feel like I'm in the right place, doing the right work for me, surrounded by the most amazing people I could possibly be.

Any other life is totally inconceivable.

What about you?  Are you where you thought you would be?  More importantly, are you happy here?

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

So, as you might imagine with a father who is in theatre (amateur, but still) and has written plays, and a mother who writes and paints, our family has something of an artistic streak.

I am a writer and amateur painter.

And now, my eldest sister is also a writer!

Teaming up with illustrator Alexandra Heazlewood, she has created a children's book!  Yes, that's it up there.  Yes, we have different surnames.  She's married, I'm not.  I promise she's my sister.

In any case, I'm ridiculously proud of her, and this book as adorable AF (abbreviated because it feels wrong cursing when writing about a children's book).

The best part?  This book is aiding charity!  It's not the same one I'm supporting with Sky Road Walker, obviously.  This book is going to aid Soldier On, a great charity that supports today's Australian veterans.

It's a very worthy case, and a fantastic book beautifully illustrated.

If you have young babes in your life, this would be great to add to their libraries.  Head on over to the Very Brambleberry website to check it out.

Now I'm off to get back to work.

Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

This weekend was a busy one for me.  I taught the last women's kickboxing class of the season on Saturday.  That was a sad class.  I loved teaching these ladies.  It was a fun class, and I do hope I'll see them again.  They were great.

Then I spent the rest of the day editing video and watching M*A*S*H.  Included in watching M*A*S*H was watching the two-hour series finale, and all the ugly crying that went with it.  I cried so much that I became dehydrated.  This is not a lie.  I had such a headache after watching it.  I blame Harry Morgan especially, who managed to look so heartbroken at the goodbyes that it broke my heart.

I'm tearing up now just remembering it.

Damn that's a good show!

Sunday was a friend's birthday, and I spent the whole day with her.  I went for a short ride on one of her horses, who is an adorable lovebug, and spent much of the day playing Tomb Raider on the PS3. I really like that game, and would love to get my hands on a copy for the Xbox.

Anyway, I got home around 9:30 last night and jumped straight back into video editing.... Which I finished around 11:00.  In order to get YouTube to accept the file, I can't export it directly to YouTube.  It mas to be exported to the hard drive first and then uploaded to YouTube.  I set the first export in motion and went to bed to snooze until the upload was complete.

Three hours in, near the very end of the export, with about a minute left of footage to go, iMovie quit unexpectedly.  Then it wouldn't start up again.  I groggily tried to fix it up until just before 4:00 am.  Then I tried turning it off and on again.  That worked.  I set the export in motion again, and snoozed, waking every so often to check up on the export and making sure it went smoothly.

It did.

Around 7:00, the export finished and I started the upload to YouTube.  I also had to get up and get ready for work.  I grumbled into my pillow for about half an hour, resulting in a frantic morning trying to get ready to go to work.

I am now at work, and I'm exhausted, and I'm giving myself the day off my usual schedule of double work.

You all better appreciate today's episode of Nights at the Round Table!  I went through a lot of trouble to get it out on time today! Now I'm off to do only one job today.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

That lioness is my spirit animal.

I'm tired today.  I feel like I'm always tired.

In any case, I'm giving myself permission to take a week off from work and just wallow in the nothingness for a while.  After all the stress of the end of March, I felt like I could use the rest.

I'll get back to real life next week.  For now, however, it's nice to simply rest.

I don't think we do enough of it.  Rest is so important.

Also, I was wondering about my inability to either lose inches or gain strength despite all the training I've been doing.  I think I'm going to start tracking everything and then head to a nutritionist.  There has to be a reason I'm not seeing results, and I'm determined to find out what it is.  Chances are, it's food related.  I spent most of my adult life chronically under-eating (less than 900 calories a day), and wrecking my metabolism.  I have no idea what a healthy amount of food is, and especially not for my level of activity.

Also, running season is coming, so maybe that will help with the slimming down, at least (not the strength, but oh well).  The plan is to run home from work on nights I don't have martial arts training.  It's just over 5kms from work to my house, so I'd be going on a 5km run at least twice a week.  Maybe that'll help.

I was supposed to start the running yesterday, but in what I can only consider to be a grand conspiracy against me, there was a snow storm.

I'm off to spent more time day dreaming.  The Third Prince is still be written, even if I don't put my fingers on the keyboard.

​Ciao!

Good morning, Readers!

Here's a confession that should surprise absolutely no one.

I'm incredibly insecure about a lot of things.

Much of it is body image stuff.  There's too much flab on my tummy.  I'm not physically strong enough.  There are too many stretch marks (I grew fast in puberty!).  And the cellulite, oh the cellulite!

But this is about more than a list of reasons why I wouldn't be caught dead in a bikini.

Generally speaking, I often feel like I'm not good enough.  In almost all of my endeavours, I am plagued by a sense of frustrated melancholy.  In my weight training, I'm not seeing any increase in strength.  I managed a chin up, which is good, but I haven't been able to do it since.  In writing, I'm still seeking that traditional publishing contract, and seeing my books in an actual store, on actual shelves, for sale...  Le sigh.

This year I decided to make a go of my art, selling prints etc.  Now, I don't think I'm a terrible artist.  I just don't think that I'm that good.  I'm not saying this because I'm craving a cacophony of disagreement with that statement.  I'm just saying what is.

The problem comes when I start to compare my stuff with the art of others.  I mean, look at any of my digital paintings on my Deviant Art page.  Now look at this one:

I want to paint like that.

And I can't.  This makes me incredibly sad.  Sometimes I just want to throw everything out and quit.

It's not envy so much, though there is some of that.  I think I'm able to avoid envy because I know just how much work and practice it takes to get good at something like painting.  Being able to paint like Deviant Art user 88grzes takes a lot of work, a lot of practice.. I can imagine that this painting took forever, considering how long it takes me to complete one.

But just look at this painting.  Look at the detail!  Look at it!

Sigh.

More than my writing, the comparison of my art to others really bothers me.  I look at this stuff and just feel so, so sad.

Because I'm not good enough.

I'm not good enough to sell any prints.  I'm not good enough to get a publishing contract.  I'm not good enough at hauling my own weight around a gym...

​Don't mind me.  I'm just feeling blue.

Of course I'm not going to stop trying.  I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to; either writing or painting.  Weights... well...

Anyway, what is the one thing you really wish you could magically become brilliant at?

I'm off to practice more painting.

​Ciao!