Grace.

You may remember my reaction to my sister's announcement of her pregnancy.

You will probably remember what happened with mine.

It's a hard situation, but I think I have found my peace with it, for the moment.

My sister's baby is imminent. I drove about 80km to see her yesterday, and spend some time with her. We had a lovely time, and bonded. Perhaps the closest we have ever been. My big sister protective instinct has kicked in, and I spoiled her a bit yesterday. Bought the baby a teddy bear, a purple Care Bear. I would've loved a Care Bear as a little girl, but they were too spenny.

As I've mentioned, my sister and I are chalk and cheese, and we have clashed many, many times. I have tried very hard to be supportive to her during this pregnancy, while still honouring my own emotions.

It has involved listening, and saying things like "how do you feel?", "how are you coping?" and "what do you need?", rather than telling her what to do and feel. I know she is feeling anxious, as most first time mothers do, plus they are in a financially very tight situation already.

I got the same treatment back, yesterday. She asked me how I was feeling about the miscarriage thing, listened as I told her about some recent career wins. She didn't try and say "oh don't worry you'll be pregnant again soon". We punned and swore and giggled.

When I got back, I received a text. Care Bear was placed in the cot, awaiting her little friend:

This made me very emotional.

This has been hard, but I have learned the true meaning of grace, and I am proud of this.

I am very much looking forward to being an Auntie.

Darling buds. Doggy music festivals.

I was a bit out of sorts last evening and this morning.

However, as I got into my car to get to work, I saw the first little rosebud of spring. I looked a little closer, focussed and took a picture.

Seeing the first little rose bloom of spring changes nothing, but these things help ground me in the here and now. It defuses imagined crises.

The past weekend brought some glorious weather for a dog-friendly music festival, Dogapalooza.

It was fairly soporific music without bass or many high notes, so as not to distress the woofies. It was just nice to have some chill-time with the fur baby.

There were hipsters, so many hipsters, and their beasts, from a toy chihuahua to a large great Dane the size of a shetland pony. The Dane, lazily lying on his side, rolled on it's back to allow passers by to pat his belly. His paws were massive. I wonder what he costs to feed?

I have been in a bit of pain recently, with my back. It is a longstanding niggle of mine. It used to be on the right side of my lower back, now it has settled in on the left side. I am seeing a myotherapist who is a fellow crossfitter, except she is really good at crossfit. Like, competition grade. I have tight, overdeveloped, overactive quads and hip flexors, and weaker, lazy glutes. It pulls me out of shape. I have to do lots of clams and glute strengthening exercises, which I used to do a lot of when I did pilates but don't worry so much about now. To my detriment, clearly.

It's a short week here in Melb, with a public holiday on Friday, bought back in by our new Premier after show day was "Jeffed"* some years ago. I am using the extra time to attack a few papers and presentations I need to write, and do some weeding. The weeds are taunting me. I asked a person from the grey army to come and give me a quote for the gardening but he got muddled up so I told him not to bother. Some weeding will do me good, anyway.

I am soooooo hanging out for Penang.

* Jeffed =laid to waste or abolished by Jeff Kennett, the 1990s  Victorian Premier with a slash and burn mentality.

And you?
How are your glutes? Lazy like mine? Or taut and functional?
Any nice flowers in your part of town?

The best leader Labor never had.

I write from under a new overlord.

Those of you from Australia - you already know.

It's had a fair smattering of news overseas (with some lambasting of the concept of mid-term deposition of the leader of a party).

I introduce Malcolm Abbbbooooooottttttt

I mean Malcolm Turnbull, the best leader Labor never had. Last night, everywhere in Laborland, faces collectively went into palms. For some reason I can't quite put my finger on, I just don't particularly like Bill Shorten, and I think many echo my sentiment. Turnbull seems the obvious choice for those who can stomach neither Tony nor Bill, and hence he is electoral Kryptonite to the Labor party.

The thought is that he is a better bloke than Tone. He thinks climate change is a thing, he has been on record for saying that he agrees with gay marriage. He is eloquent, clever, charming and rocks a spenny suit like a boss. Barrister, Journo, Successful Businessman, Rhodes Scholar, Lifeguard. You could imagine him facepalming every time Tone said something dumb.

I thought that ole moneybags, with his vast wealth, he can fix the debt and fund some pensions. Later I found he was only worth a measly $180Mil.

I was cautiously hopeful. I was buoyed by his victory speech. The positive notion that these are exciting times, that we as a country can make the most of if we are agile. No stabs at the opposition (Julie took care of that though), no fear, no hate and minimal in the way of cliche.

Just reading the above, though, I am more measured about things.

There is no doubt that MT thoroughly sounded out the party and did some deals before throwing his hat in the ring. It would have been suicide otherwise, and MT has bided his time since Feb.

It was no secret that he was not liked by the Arch-Conservative arm of the Liberal party, the Abetz/Bernardi end of the spectrum. He will have had to cut deals with some of these people. This concerns me.

We wake to a new overlord, and nothing has changed. Different face, better haircut, better suit, but same stuff. Gay marriage will go to a plebiscite after the next election. A grovelling tribute to the Coalition's direct action on climate change.

I know he has to bide his time, but I am not convinced.

He has presided over evisceration of the ABC and a shitty substandard NBN. Will that change? Will 100,000 solar panels pop up toot sweet? Will just get on and allow my gay friends to marry? Will he oversee the selling of our Land/Mines etc to China? Can he 'splain to us just why the economy is so bad, and what he and his merry men (and hopefully more women) will do to save it while minimising pain to the most vulnerable?

[I still have not gotten over Joe and Tone's plan to extend the wait period for the dole to 6 months. Will people have lived on love alone, or will they have beaten us up and stolen our tellies for food? No amount of 'splaining would make that good. Dickheads.]

Why do we even think he is so special for believing in climate change and gay marriage? Supporting these things does not make you special, it makes you not an arsehole. First rule.

Yes he is cleverer and a better salesman.

Yet his smile is appearing more smarmy by the second.

Will the 3 word slogan become the 300 word slogan (thankyou, Barrie Cassidy)

This meme summed it up well

A polished turd is still a turd, and this won't change my vote.

Malcolm Turnbull, I hope you prove me wrong, you silver fox you.

Your thoughts? Happy to hear considered and respectful views from the other side of the fence :D

On saying no, and its consequences.

Last week was a bit of a stressful week at work. Last Friday arvo, I was asked to do something that made me upset, and I cracked it a bit. I immediately set some boundaries, by group email. Nowadays I try not to make calls while acutely upset but sod it, I'd had enough.

The people it affected were gracious and contrite, and things have changed. This is good.

The first half of the year was so frenetic that I had promised myself that, once the PhD was finished, I would try not to work full time, to have some sessions free.

However, the frenetic pace went on, without me even realising it. One of my employers kept on asking me again and again to act at their bidding. The nocturnal tooth grinding continued. I was starting to dread the weekends, as I had to do work that I missed out on during the week. It took this blog post to get me thinking about my work-life balance, and finally I put it into action last Friday.

It bought up a couple of things:

I didn't know what to do with my spare time. 

There is so much emphasis on being productive and not wasting a moment that we forget that we don't actually have to schedule every minute. We wear busy like a badge of honour, but for what?

I have been thinking about some restorative things I could do. Not exercise; I do enough of that. Reading a book? Drawing a picture? Playing with the dog? God forbid, watching some telly - Series 3 of House of Cards is begging to be binge-watched.

There are things like the dentist, the tax agent, going to the bank.

Calling a friend. I had become more and more intolerant of talking on the phone, preferring to text. I have friends that need chatting with at the moment, so I have done this. 

But people might get angry if I say no.

It might have consequences, and I had to be ready to accept them.

Perhaps I was more angry with myself. That I "should" be up to working full time, plus the weekends. My kind of workplace appears to reward that type of work.

I find saying no stressful, such that I will say yes and do what I am asked as the stress of saying no is greater than the time expended doing the task. I am afraid of being passed over the next time an opportunity comes up, or worse, of appearing like (gasp) a cow.

I am finding that a. people are gonna bitch no matter what I do and b. worthy opportunities will still be available even if you occasionally be assertive.

I have read about the art of saying no for women. It said something about women always having to explain themselves and apologise, where men just say their piece and that is it. Hence I have been recently in the practice of saying no, and taking care not to apologise for standing your ground. I am practicing that too.

I am flexing my "no" muscle. It is scary but it feels good.

On family.

I've been thinking about this on and off for a while.

from awkwardfamilyphotos.com

I have always envied people who got along well with their families. As well as loving their family members, they genuinely like them, and would hang out with them for preference. Sometimes I have aspired to be like that with my family, but it has fallen flat in the past and I end up feeling that painful mix of resentment and guilt.

On the other side of the coin, I think it is a terrible shame when there are such deep rifts within families that they no longer speak to or see each other.

My family is somewhere in between. The honest truth is confronting, but it is as such:

We have so little in common, apart from shared origins. We are vastly different in personality. Were there no shared origins, no interaction would ever get past the first contact.

There have been many times in recent years where I have bemoaned the lack of understanding within the family. I am sure my other family members have bemoaned the same thing about me. It all arises from the fact that we are essentially different despite the fact we are family.

Unfortunately, though, you don't get a choice about your family. In my humble opinion, at the end of the day, there is only one thing you have to do, and that is be there when they really need you. Of course you love them, but what is love without action?

Beyond this, I keep interactions pleasant and reasonably frequent, but brief and superficial. I listen, smile, nod and make the appropriate sounds, without offering much in the way of advice. I offer practical help.

I've stopped trying to rationalise or understand how they do things. I don't like being told what to do, and apply that rationale to them. I offer gentle but firm explanations of my boundaries when that comes up.

It might sound a bit cold, but it makes for peace and calm, and ultimately a more functional relationship.

What about you?

I'm still here....

Oh hai.

I have been here, I have been fine, I have been kicking around instagram, but I have not gotten the head of steam to blog. My thoughts have not been able to form themselves into a coherent post. Today, since it's been so long since I've blogged, it's gonna be a bit of a mish mash.

I have handed in my PhD. Many people say "Oh, you must be relieved". Relieved isn't really the word. It is but one part of the research journey.

When I was pregnant, my thoughts were often directed to my future with baby. After the miscarriage, I ploughed a lot of energy into getting the PhD done, then finding something for myself to do in lieu. Friends, I am in the process of being appointed a postdoctoral fellow, part time.

Is this trying to sublimate/cover up my feelings re the m/c? Probably. But I cope with things by changing tack quickly. We fall down, we get up, and we run in a slightly different direction.

The research is hard work. I am already in the process of applying for outside funding, plus getting data together for papers, plus putting abstracts in for conferences. It pays far less than what I can earn. Yet it is something I enjoy, it's a self-actualisation thing. It plays to my nerdier and occasionally misanthropic tendencies (yes I have both).

And, if not now, then when? Gotta take advantage of the opportunities as they arise, am I right?

I am in dire need of another holiday, yes I know it wasn't long ago I was in Spain but that was partly work and when you work over weekends, the need for a holiday comes very quickly.

To this end, we are off to Penang in Oct.

This is a pic of Batu Ferringhi beach. Looks rather idyllic, but apparently absolutely teeming with jellyfish. Might just stick to the pool.

A hundred things to do in Penang, and, from my Malaysian friends, at least 93 of these things involve food. The rest involve hanging out by the pool or other body of water...very much looking forward to going.

Then a conference in Istanbul in November. Better get my finger out and write that paper. Boss has to let me go there if I have a paper in....

~~~~~~~~~~
You know that whole thing about summer bodies being made in winter, well, since the PhD has been handed in, I have been giving that a bit more thought, because, you know, bikini and Penang. Hence I have been training like a demon at crossfit.

Yes I know the bad rap that crossfit gets, I know all the crossfit jokes ("If you are a vegan and a crossfitter, which do you talk about first?" etc).

But bloody ell I love it. I have been doing it of a morning and I just feel like a boss (pronounced baaaawwwwwwwssssss) all day. My pull ups are coming along, I am starting to get more confident with jumping on boxes, and I delight in telling my skinny friends that I would be able to deadlift them (last week I did a 60kg x 7 rep). Next, double unders and world domination.

I love that, without any particular running training, I can go out and run fairly comfortably whenever I like. I went for a little trot round the 'tan with my friend this morning, and it was magnificent. Melbourne has got the memo about it being spring soon and is starting to flirt a little. It has been a long, cold winter and errrrybody looked so happy to be out and about.

I cannot help but admire my new guns when I shower. Oh yes I do.

And they play punk rock or thrash metal while you work out, and that gets me in the mood big time.

My burpees are coming along.


I am feeling very confident in my skin, that is probably the best thing.

I have decided that it is also time to stop the snacking while writing. Hence I am drinking lots of herbal tea....

On the hippie vein, I am also doing yoga, to stretch out those enlarging muscles. I always start out like "na can't be arsed with this, too hippy" and finish out like "I feel marvellous". I never thought I'd see the day.


Anyway I can sense some eyes starting to glaze over at this point.

Being the beginning of spring, I am considering doing a wardrobe cull next weekend. If I don't feel fab in it, out it goes. I have stopped asking people how I look in things, because if I don't feel all "bam" in it, I won't wear it. 'Cept for tracky daks, which I am proudly rocking now.

I need to curate a good work/conference/doing talks wardrobe - "sharp and clever with a bit of quirk" is the look I am going for. Anyone got any ideas?

PS - After I wrote my little outburst re Puffer Jackets I found one at Witchery and luffed it sick so I bought it and I still luff it sick.

RIP, my namesake.

When I introduce myself, it goes a little something like this:

Me: "Hello, I am Cilla"

Them: "Oh Hi Celia".

Me: "No, Cilla. C-I-L-L-A"

Them: "Is that short for Priscilla?"

Me: "No, Cilla is the name on my birth certificate".

Them: "What nationality is that?"

Me: "British. As in Cilla Black, the singer. That's who I was named after."

(their response will depend on how old they are, if they are 45 or over, no further explanation is required)

I was very sad to hear that my namesake, Cilla Black, had passed away at age 72. That is not very old, and I had no idea she was ill.

She was very much loved in the UK, for her bubbly personality, common touch, big heart and bigger voice. I don't have the big voice (cept for maybe in my car) but the other things I can aspire to.

RIP Cilla Black.

.....................

Oh yeah, I have submitted my thesis.

Keen for other pursuits, I baked a Lemon Meringue pie, made with the surfeit of lemons we have

Celebratory dinner at a nice restaurant tomorrow, and off to the Dandenongs on the weekend.

That'll be all for tonight.

Q and A will be good tonight - no politicians so should be a good 'un.