Bleh, blah.

Good morning souls of the world,

I am here, blogging again for a small amount of time, trying to type out my frustration with the almighty writers block. I haven't been able to write anything decent or even sprout out ideas for the past three weeks or more and last night I had a good idea. It was a good idea, amongst the warmth of my blankets and snuggles, and I didn't write it down. Trust that to be the time that I don't keep a pad and paper near my bed. Now, in the morning, I come to my laptop, ready to write and I can't for the life of me remember what the heck I was on about when I came up with that idea last night. Argh! Why not? I usually have a good memory for things like that. Talk about frustrated! I have a million other ideas just sitting on my usb saved in titles and can't seem to squeeze anything out of that for the moment either. This is surely driving me mad! Perhaps a cup of organic black tea and some time to meditate in the morning sun will bring back any creativeness or sparks in my mind, so I'm off to see and either way, you'll see me back here. I'll either have another rambling piece of turd to express to you, or, all hopes for something decent.

Be the best you can be.

SM

Cleaners at risk

Cleaners at Myer Centre were recently verbally abused by a member of centre management staff to the point where they felt intimidated. One of those cleaners concerned feels she can no longer work there as a result and has found alternative employment.

When questioned as to what they were doing to ensure a safe workplace, Colonial First State Property Management (CFSPM) the employer of the satff member in question, contended that they'd performe a thorough investigation which had turned out to be 'inconclusive', and therefore felt they could close the matter.

The LHMU, the union representing property services workers - cleaners and security guards - at the Myer centre, subsequently ascertained that CFSPM did not even speak to a single cleaner in the course of their "thorough investigation'.

It was only on the insistence of the union that the investigation was reopened, and cleaners were given a chance to have their say. Even though the cleaners maintain that the verbal abuse took place, and that this incident was not the only occurrence, CFSPM still contend that the evidence is 'inconclusive', and that the matter should be closed.

Would you settle for this in your workplace?

What would have happened in the boot were on the other foot, and a cleaner had abused a member of centre management?

Support the right of property services workers to have a safe workplace, free from intimidation! Send an email supporting cleaners' rights at work to Coloinal First State Property Management at: jsigmun@colonialfirststate.com.au and Cc the cleaners at: cleanstartqld@lhmu.org.au

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I've certainly sent in my response and have pasted that below too - because I fully believe in equity in the workplace and believe this is unacceptable. Support the cause for fair work environments!

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To whom it may concern,

My name is Siobhan and I was recently handed a flyer in Queens ST, Brisbane earlier today stating the words 'Cleaner's at Risk' by a group of people banging bins and making noise.

After a closer inspection I further read that "cleaners at the Myer centre were recently abused by a member of centre management staff to the point where they felt intimidated". It was obvious that they were outraged at this mistreatment and were seeking the assistance of the general public to seek fairer treatment for the cleaners of Myers.

I absolutely agree with their statement and quest for equality - especially in an industry created by the arrogance of others that someone else must pick up after them. The cleaners are valuable and integral in contributing towards the beauty of Queen ST, not to mention are people themselves who deserve respect and fair treatment.

I full support them.

Kind regards,

Siobhan

Modern Day Gladiator

"Baby boy takes world by storm!"

"Wonder child born in miraculous way!"

"New breed of species through to be extinct, re-discovered!"

Good Evening Chairperson, ladies and gents.

It was a dark gloomy night. Thunder struck and the electricity ridden bolts of lightening began to light up the house to reveal the unknown mysteries that lay beneath. The shear screams that came from inside the house echoed and echoed and echoed down the long dark, eerie corridor. This night was full of pain, heaving and pushing until she was exhausted beyond exhaustion. However instead of her child being born, his tiny fingers clenched to make a fist as he punched is way out of his mother's womb, ready for life. And on this night, a modern gladiator was born. This was also known as the invention of caesarian birth. Shortly after this, the child grew a beard.

Some may think to themselves, what does a modern gladiator look like? Well, there is only one, true answer to that question. He is strong, with the strength of a jungle lion, but still have the most in-touch and gentle sides that a man can have. He is 5'11" tall with such a ravishing figure that no one shall dare stare upon him. His face - flawless. Sparkling bright blue eyes that reflect both the ocean and the sky. He has a cheeky, yet seductive grin that gradually turns into the most beautiful smile known to man and he has such sexy, sleek and roughed up hair, as red as the molten lava at Mount Saint Helens, that crawls down his face and across his chin; the most stunning beard a woman has ever seen.

Some may think to themselves, what does a modern gladiator act like? He acts as the Texas Ranger. He moves with ease and grace. His reflexes are unlike no other. He is cool, calm and collected. Ever vigilant for any obstacle that may next come his way. He walks with such confidence and zest, that he could defy the limits of gravity. But, you see, this modern gladiator does not have to act.

Of course this modern gladiator that I speak of is much, much more that just a gladiator, oh yes. He is a man, myth, legend, god. His tears could cure cancer, although he never cries. He has never lost a fight to a pirate, although he likes to say that he has, just to lure them to him. He is the only reason the aliens of the outside worlds haven't attacked yet and he can touch MC Hammer.

But this is nothing. He can stare at a book until the information jumps out at him from pure terror; he sells his sweat as the canned beverage that we know as 'Red Bull'; he can win a game of connect four, with only three moves and his favourite and personal best, he has increased the number of roundhouse kick related deaths by 13000%.

This gladiator, is the one, the only, the invincible, the Chuck Norris.

Yes, the same Chuck Norris that holds every world record. I know that you may not see him in that book, but if you look closely in the very back, in small print it states: "Chuck Norris holds every world record there is, this book is just a publishing of all those that have come the closest."

The same Chuck Norris that his and only his hand can beat a royal flush.

The same Chuck Norris that grinds his coffee with his teeth and boils the water with his rage.

Yes, this is the same Chuck.

Chuck Norris has had such an impact on our world. You see, some people wear Superman pajamas in their day dreaming fantasies to become heroes the same as he, but superman himself, wears Chuck Norris pajamas. He is, in our modern day lives, our gladiator. The man who can slam a revolving door, is, in our society a house-hold name for being nothing more than purely himself.

A pillar of strength when things go astray from the norm. A martial artist, who roundhouse kicks anyone who displeases him. A hero who has no trouble at all taking recognition for all the good things in life, and roundhouse kicks anyone who disagrees. An actor who uses his fame for charitable programs and launches initiatives again drug use, and roundhouse kicks anyone who disobeys!

But Chuck too, has his faults. For example, he knows every meaning of every word in the English language other than mercy. He is currently suing the NBC claiming Law and Order are the trademarked names for his left and right legs. Or perhaps the fact that the only people to get away from Chuck Norris when he is angry with them, are astronauts.

Other than that, though, Chuck Norris has no faults. A perfect being of life. Something, that should be aspired to. A man, to whom age does not take to. A man, who built Rome in a day. A man, who has the ability to lick his own elbow. Who wouldn't want to be able to do that?

Chuck is a one and only. If there were another, it is anticipated that Chuck Norris would meet another Chuck Norris roundhouse kick. Physicists theorize that this contact would end the universe. But that is indeed outlawed.

So every time you think of Chuck Norris, just remember, he is the one who gave Mona Lisa her smile; he is the reason why Wally is hiding; he has counted to infinite, twice; he is the one and only modern day gladiator.

Be bothered...

Last night I stayed up late to bake some fair trade chocolate cookies for Easter gifts for all my loved ones, and it was really fun! I was thinking to myself that I could just have not done anything, seeing as I didn't have the funds to purchase easter eggs let alone fair trade eggs, but I didn't. I decided to home bake some goodies and had fun, and am very proud with the outcome and hope my friends and family will be too!

It made me think about all those things that we do or don't do because we "can't be bothered"? Why not be bothered? Would you be happy with your life if you looked back to only see moments missed by 'can't be bothered' to do anything or try anything new?

Be bothered, I do say. Why not? Go out into the world with a positive attitude and be bothered to do things, try things, be the person you want to be and experience the world at your doorstep. Don't miss a chance because you can't be bothered - it's a general waste of life not to take advantage of the opportunities out there!

Boredom...

I sit here at uni with another 2 out of a 5 hour block remaining before my next class with nothing to do, literally. All the computers are taken, (first time in history for this desolate campus), no study to continue with plus I've just bored my myself out with reading numerous texts to which are horribly unenjoyable thank to the ridiculous amounts of copious readings required in my current studies from the uni library. I'm hungry and the canteen is packed, I'd go somewhere but I'm broke and I'm sitting here... bored.

Now, the ironic part of all of this is that I get quite abusive and irritant towards people that update their facebook status with "bored, bored, bored" and I think to myself, "get off your bottom and do something then..."... and yet here I am, experiencing the core of boredom. Hypocrite, anyone? Or perhaps not, for the genuine fact that I sit with little to no options for stimulation and therefore boredom is a popular choice that I'm cornered into...

Bogan Pride, Humanity’s Disgust.

I wrote this a fair while ago, but it's still valid...

Bogan Pride, Humanity’s Disgust.

bogan: n. ‘slang word for dirty and rude person/s.

pride: n. ‘a feeling of elation or satisfaction at achievements, qualities or possessions, etc that do one credit.

“Excuse me sir”, said the young upper class gentlemen to the scruffy Bogan man wearing no shoes. “Unfortunately, I must inform you that your dirty and rude qualities do not do you any credit”.

Bogan Pride, created by comedienne Rebel Wilson, is a television comedy skit show produced with a quirky; over-exaggerate view of the school and social life of a teenage ‘bogan’ and her alike family. Although in understanding the ‘extreme comedy’ approach this show has taken for our entertainment purposes such as the exaggeration of bodily chaffing to smell like hot meals, somewhere along the continuum we must draw the line and I propose that the exploitive representation of abuse within respite care for people with disabilities for distasteful and inappropriate entertainment values marks that line.

I recently wrote a letter to the team at Bogan Pride expressing my disgust and dissatisfaction with this issue. I explained that I believe that not only does the disabled population deserve better representation, but also the general public should be treated with a higher level of humour rather than to laugh at the exploitation of others. However I am now compelled to feel more disappointment in my fellow first world citizens, due to the lack of support that I received. I am disappointed that the fellow citizens I spoke out to asking for help did not seem to acknowledge the importance of this situation and had little faith that any change could come from any efforts, and therefore did nothing. These are the same fellow citizens that demand this exploitation for their nightly entertainment; that encourage the outrageous use of inappropriate materials for their own selfish values.

However, this is not only the full burden of Bogan Pride, but also many comedy movies and television shows exploiting the disadvantaged; poor, disabled, socially excluded, etc; for a laugh, with the general public contributing towards the encouragement for further exploitation, all in the name of entertainment.

I, of course, received no reply to my letter explaining my disappointment, however that was highly anticipated. What’s one less viewer anyway, right? Wrong. The Australian public has the abilities to make change in the mainstream entertainment, which is the prime target group for advertising mediums, and one less viewer, means one more person that is unhappy with the entertainment shown of TV, and therefore, will not have that one person’s support for the show.

Media and entertainment, as the main portal into guiding the future generations and we, as nurturers not only for the future generations, but the future for ourselves also, have social responsibilities to accept; to set the ground rules for the future; the guidelines for making change; the course of action for a better world. Act now.

Daddy's Princess

She waits. She waits for him. Standing there in the cold, lacking warmth. No blankets could fulfill the warmth that she needs. As she peers through the window, she begins to burn from the inside out. Her heart was on fire as she sees him. From the outside of his heart, she sees him. By a fire, warm with love with his new family. The ones that she was replaced by, as she stands, locked out side of his heart. Waiting, waiting, anticipating the moment when he'll open the locks and reach for her with caring, loving and outstretched arms. She waits.


There is a small child. She looks up at her father with the same glistening blue eyes as he has, admiring his strength, personality, love - and in one brief moment, there is a connection between them, a connection, that is unbreakable.


When she was young, she used to be daddy's little girl. To him, she did no wrong. The love they shared was amazing. It was relationship that some people would only ever dream of having. But as time moved on, that relationship began to change. It started when he moved out, to be closer to work. Then he slowly began to visit only twice a week... only once a week, down to the occasional phone call. They began to drift apart.


More years pass and her parents break up and her father, within less that 2 weeks of him leaving, her father was engaged to another woman and had unofficially adopted her children as his very own. She is no longer his responsibility; he feels that his new children now come first. She is lost, confused. She is disappointed. She is hurt and she now feels disposable. That same girl, 5 years on, now a young lady, again looks up at her father with the same glistening blue eyes as he has, with the same love and hope as before, but this time she sees something different. She sees an immature, cowardly and irresponsible man. Her heart breaks to know that the man she once knew as her hero, her father, the man that accepted her as his responsibility, can throw all her loving thoughts of him away in an instance, with one word, with one action.


To feel that he has disposed of her. A disposable responsibility, like unfinished business that he couldn't be bothered seeing through... to be rejected by someone you love so much. That man will never be seen the same through those glistening blue eyes. She sees him there, he seems familiarly but yet, completely unknown to her.


Her aching heart continually increases every time she is reminded of his mistakes, his new family and his new life. She is left struggling for attention, continually pushing and craving for that fatherly love that is not longer there. Although she is not alone, with a wonderful family, the one thing that she needs for her life to feel complete, is the one simple ting that her arms are too short to reach.


She cries, but he doesn't hear her. She reaches for him, but he pulls away. She speaks, but his ears won't listen.


The aching in her heart continually increases every time she is reminded of his mistakes and his new family. But you see, he doesn't see wrong in his actions. To him, he has done nothing hurtful, spiteful or unforgivable. His conscious doesn't tell him when he is hurting her. He does not understand how she us unforgiving of his decisions. She wants him. He doesn't want her. She wants his love. He doesn't understand.


That girl will never see her father the same again. She will never feel the same towards him again. She will never be strong enough to rebuild that unbreakable connection with him.


She waits. She waits. The fire inside burns out and she can see the family sleeping, dreaming beautiful, sweet dreams. As the last of the coal burns to dust, she stands there. Locked outside hid heart, waiting and waiting. Forever waiting and anticipating the moment when he'll open the locks and reach for her with caring, loving and outstretched arms. She will wait.

Just my views on things. Take it, or leave it.

I am simply me. Yes, I’m 19 years old. Yes I still live with my mother after a failed attempt to move out of home, and yes, that was me eating spoonfuls of Milo in the kitchen at work. No, I don’t smoke. No, I don’t drink. No, I’m not abnormal, I’m simply me. Yes, I do care. Take it, or leave it.

I would, however, like a keyboard. Unfortunately, to my demise, my younger sister has publicly announced that she would like an electric keyboard for Christmas, and now with this statement, if I was to acquire my own, it would be on the terms of ‘copying’ her, and me as the oldest child, doesn’t want to seem as if I am that desperate to be “hip” that I would stoop so low as to appear that I would be ‘copying’ my sisters intentions. Damn it. I wish I had said it first.

If I were an elephant, I would stomp all my problems away. Squish emotional torture; squish worldly injustices; squish some of my family members. Squish mainstream society’s views on everything. Squish, squish… SQUISH! My, wouldn’t I feel better. Now… why aren’t I an elephant?

It’s because I’m cursed! Or perhaps, not blessed… but either way it’s not good and I don’t like it. This is my view. Why must I continue to carry on in a world where millions of people are suffering from poverty, hunger, homelessness, war, violence, terror, greed, guilt, social degradation, supremacy and yet, I am filled with sadness for my petty little life. A life that is safe, adored, tried and purposeful – or is it? I spend my days mulling over cups of earl grey and peppermint teas about how best I can work for a better future for the world and yet nearly every day, am discouraged by selfish and ignorant people that fill my heart with shame. I care, I do, but how strong can one be against such ridiculous purpose-killers and those who can’t see past their beady little lives? Already, I am beginning to loose my passion, because I don’t think my kind-heart will last in a world of shame, a world where your pre-determined social status and the people-fuelled-ridicule plans out your future, when there are so many more important things on this beautiful Earth that we may take for granted.

I am often saddened. Saddened by the fact that my cute little four dollar, size ten knickers I recently bought on sale from Best and Less are in fact too small for my ever-growing large bottom. Saddened that there is a global food crisis and yet there is also a ‘first-world global’ obesity crisis. Saddened by the fact that I am continually discouraged by people I love and people I care about. Saddened that I don’t have anyone to comfort me when I’m low and to listen when I need to talk. Saddened that my sister got in first for the keyboard request and saddened to realise that we live in a world where people just don’t care.

I came across a display plaque designed by Kelly Lane recently that says: “You have two hands, one to help yourself and the second to help others”, of which I was inspired and filled with love for my fellow man and the position that I may be in to be able to help.

Determined to not give up, I bought this little encourager, along with my organic peppermint and lemongrass soap, and walked out the store with a brightened mind that it is possible to remain committed, because people are worth it. And as I left the shopping centre ready for home, a car drove past me with a little girl slumping over the back passenger side window holding an up-side down rude finger at me, and shifting her eyes as to see if her parents could see what she was up to, and I said to myself “Yes. This whole save humanity is definitely worth fighting for. This is what I want to do.”

A collection of positive fuel feeders are definitely needed. I recently signed up to sponsor a child in India and her photo helps to ground my thoughts about why I do what I do and why I can become a part of the people fighting for a better future. There are many feel good stories, articles, music and movies out there and I thought it definitely appropriate to share mine too, because it’s not easy always fighting for justice and equality and fairness, but it’s something that needs to be done or the world is doomed forever. How irresponsible is man to allow certain issues to get as far as they are without taking dominant, positive action towards making a change for the better?

I don’t have a keyboard and I can’t see myself getting one in the near future. I am not an elephant, and I don’t think I’m “unblessed” or cursed but I am stuck between the ‘conforming to society’s standards in order to have a chance to change the world’ and ‘standing up for what I believe in and having a harder time making change’ – and it’s not easy when you hit this spot, and I’m working towards finding those positive fuel feeders – that daring, cheeky little car girl as one to start. This was naughty, yes, however allowing children the chance to grow and learn and discover is the key to the future, and I will remember her gesture when life’s decisions begin to get tough. And just in case you were interested, yes, that really was me in the kitchen at work eating Milo by the spoonful.

Keep up the good fight and think of the little things that may make the fight a little easier for you, or, you are welcome to share my thoughts.

Many positive fuel feeders,

SM.