Mini Schoolies

When I finished Grade 6, way back in the 1970s, there was no ceremony or celebration. As I recall, we packed up our stuff on the last day, said 'See ya!' and left.

My, how things have changed.

So Sass wrapped up grade six and there has been:

• A graduation assembly
• A final assembly (where she did win an award for intellectual curiosity - go Sass!)
• The Lip Syncing competition (unrelated to graduating - but another event to attend)
• The graduation party last night - at the Royal South Yarra Lawn Tennis Club no less - including a disco, photo booth, photographer and drinks and finger food for the 'rents in a separate room

Preparation for the party included finding the right outfit, new shoes, bag and accessories, a manicure, having toe nails painted, some gradual tan on the legs (thanks Elle!) and a trip to the hairdresser for some braiding and curling. It was like a mini formal!

And if all that wasn't excitement enough, we were up before 5am this morning for the airport pick up because a bunch of them headed off to Merimbula for what one teacher dubbed 'mini schoolies' - a beach retreat with friends but sans boys, alcohol, fake id and dubious behaviour. 

Yes, 3 nights and 3 days packed with excitement and activities - hosted by a very brave and generous mum and the equally brave grandparents.

Seriously, it's times like these that I wish I was eleven again!

The season of goodwill... except at Chadstone Shopping Centre car park

What on earth was I thinking??

We're at liberty to go to Chadstone any day of the week, but Elle and I chose last Saturday afternoon, in the lead up to Christmas on a day of severe weather warnings and possible flooding to head to the self-promoted 'fashion capital'.

Naturally, the car park was hideous.

I told Elle that in these circumstances, the best strategy is to stop just inside one of the lanes and sit it out until you spot someone leaving. Driving around doesn't work as you continuously 'just miss' a spot.

So we sat.

An Audi 4WD pulled right up behind me so I popped my indicator on. I could see the driver huffing in my rear vision mirror as she pulled around me - but didn't expect the spray:

You can't stop there! She screamed at me. Wow.

So taken aback, my instant response was to yell back You can!

You can't! She yelled again,

You can! I screeched back.

So Grade 4 - it was actually pretty funny.

Meanwhile, some people had returned to their car just in front of me and we parked.

As we walked over the next lane way, the Audi was approaching in the  slow line of traffic - still looking for a spot. My gaze held steady but the driver was deliberately busying herself with something in the centre console while her young daughter was left to give us a filthy look.

I hope they have a very happy Christmas!

The Brazilian

No - not that kind of Brazilian - I mean our rowing coach who hails from the South American country.

Yesterday he decided we should row in pairs, and oh my goodness, those boats are so skinny and narrow and consequently, feel very unstable.

I was rowing with Sal and made her stroke because I was terrified. I was debating if I should take my watch off in case we capsized. The school kids do all the time, sometimes several times a lesson, but we're middle aged women who are NOT interested in a dip in the river. Sal suggested I did remove the watch as that would assist the karma that would help us not to fall in. Turned out she was right - as I cheerfully admit, she usually is!

Our Brazilian coach was in the speedboat, espousing the golden rule - if you let go of your oars and grab the sides of the boat, you WILL capsize. Hmm, good to know.

For some crazy reason, being in the precarious boat made me forget everything I knew and Coach was giving me plenty of instructions. He talks a lot which is good, because I often have trouble understanding his accent and it takes me a while to cotton on to what he's telling me. However, I was surprised when he yelled out - several times - MWW! Why are you so dense??!

Now I've been asked some direct questions in my time, but this one takes the cake.

I could only respond with I don't know.

It was only when he followed up some time later with MWW! Relax your face!! that it occurred to me that he'd been saying 'tense' - not 'dense.' (Ironic I know - too dense to work that out!)

We didn't row particularly hard but I was shaking when we got out from having every muscle clenched for 90 minutes.

Apparently, he wants us to have a go at single skulls next. Maybe if I'm in my bathers I'll be able to focus on the rowing and not worry about the possibility of swimming!

Gym Junkie

Back before I had kids, and when g-string leotards and slouch socks were all the go, I was a bit of a gym junkie - but only aerobics.

I became so caught up in the trend, not only did I spend free time attending championship competitions (as a spectator!!!) but auditioned and was accepted to complete my Certificate in Exercise To Music at a local TAFE. And yes, that's not on my CV.

I got an HD in the written exam - which was mostly multiple choice and had such challenging and memorable questions

Which piece of equipment is essential when doing aerobics?
a.  Legwarmers
b.  Sweatbands
c.  A supportive pair of sport shoes
d.  All of the above

Anyway, I have recently rejoined a gym - the first time in many years and boy, has the business model changed! I think my annual membership now is cheaper than it was nearly 30 years ago. It was a significant expense on my budget in my 20s - now it's about $15 a week.

I've heard they have thousands of members and I suspect they don't care if they use it or not. They've discovered the sweet spot where even if some members only turn up occasionally, for fifteen bucks a week, they can't even be bothered cancelling it.

It is busy - they have about 70 scheduled classes a week, 60 bikes in the spin room, heaps resistance training equipment, over 20 treadmills and the classrooms are big.

I've had a shot at most things (but not yoga and pilates - they're not for me). I've stepped, cycled, boxed, body attacked, body gritted, CXWORX-ed, run, rowed, pumped weights, used kettlebells - it's endless!!

It's also a lot less pretentious that it was back in the day, with people of all ages, sizes and abilities and a really positive encouraging vibe from the instructors. And dare I say, it's actually pretty fun - even though the activewear is now less colourful.

Good timing?

So, just as you recover from one event, another pops up - so to speak!

I can't believe it was August last year when I had my inaugural colonoscopy! You may recall that post. If not, here's the link for your reading pleasure. Just make sure you're not eating....

Today was chicken and rice. I was kinda rationing the chicken but have just reread the instructions and tomorrow after white bread toast - there is nothing :(

You might recall my brush with breast cancer - I guess relatively this is more straightforward and doesn't involve 20 trips to the hospital for radiotherapy. I have recentlyread that they think there's a link between breast, bowel and skin cancer - best I have my moles checked!!

Anyway, always one to look on the bright side, I'm off the races on Saturday and contemplating this dress of Elle's. Ambitious, I know. But I figure after Wednesday's big clean out, I'll never have a flatter stomach and shot at giving it a go!!

Could be good timing? Or I could wear something else.....

The sad, sorry saga of the telco and me

Oh, how I hate my telco provider!

Swap, I hear you say, but I've fired two before this one and can only conclude they're all as crap as each other.

I'm not going to name mine - they're not getting any oxygen on this far-reaching platform! - but let's just say they have a tagline along the lines of Thrive On. I don't even know what that means. And never mind thriving, how about you just work?? For any telcos looking for a line, you can have this one for free; We Just Work.

It all started back in January when Mands and I sold our business and I was charged with unraveling the contract. There are so many instances of incompetence I barely know where to begin, but let's start with the paperwork.

Having completed the ream with the help of a staffer at the shop who conceded no-one would be able to find all those numbers on their own and providing authorisation from Mands, I left it with them to be faxed (yeah -  progressive, right). Months later when nothing had happened, I went back to the shop to discover said paperwork had been popped in a drawer with a post-it note asking no-one in particular to fax it as that staffer had headed overseas for an extended break. Lucky them!

Once it finally went through, in about September, it triggered a visit from a technician who said he needed to change the modem. Fine, I said. (What would I know?) A few days later I popped back to the shop to say the old system had been disconnected - so what plan I was on? They didn't know. In fact, it was about then they revealed that the new modem was ADSL and should be coaxial. I was losing my veneer of politeness. The guy suggested that rather than pay for another technician, I could install it myself. WTF? They put the wrong one in and it's not as straightforward as he suggested as I had no idea where the port was and we now have so much stuff using the net - security, TVs, boosters - that would all need to be recalibrated. I signed up for the technician.

I was talking to Mands, who'd been hanging out to shut this account down for months. It'd been another couple of weeks so I said to go ahead the following Monday as it may expedite things. They cut me off.

Back to the shop I went. I asked if they all try and look busy when they see me coming - and was told I'm just one of many but yes, sometimes they do a quick paper, scissors, rock. I was so furious they gave me a dongle to access wi-fi until it was sorted. I got home and it didn't work. I made Elle take it back to the shop the next morning - they'd put the wrong code in. (Actually, she pretended she was my EA and said she was scared to come back without it being fixed... I don't know why.)

Eventually, a new technician arrived and installed the correct modem. The same day another arrived via express post. It's all or nothing with these guys. I was instructed to return the ADSL and second coaxial modem to the shop - which I did.

I also had to get our data guys in to reconfigure everything as the technician said he didn't do that sort of thing - of course not.

So I've now spent about 120 hours trying to get the billing resolved as I was charged - for everything!! I managed to get a few chunks credited back,  it should be more but they've worn me down. Business and Personal departments don't speak, I've used the complaints service, I've waited on the phone for hours, not received promised calls back and yet, they keep sending me emails with subject line "How did we do?". I'm yet to fill one in because I've wasted enough time - but in the right mood, I could be tempted!!

Karma and a life hack

When I was having radiation therapy, I had to drive to the hospital every morning for four weeks. No biggy, except for the traffic and a particularly snarly bit involving two roundabouts and a bridge in between.

To keep this simple, coming in from the east, you need to change lanes in the first roundabout (on the bottom of this image) to get onto the bridge and, my god, some people will do anything NOT to let you in!

On the morning in question, a young girl in a hatchback coming in from the west refused to let me in, leaving me stranded midway around the 'bout'. Next to pull in, was a tradie, who also barred my way before the next car finally let me in.

Approaching the second roundabout, right ahead of me, the tradie rear ended the young girl's hatch back. As there's no where to stop on a bridge, she hesitated for a bit, then popped her hazard lights on, proceed directly through the next roundabout and pulled over. The tradie hung and left and drove off. No chance she'll ever see him again.

That's the karma bit.

So it got me thinking what would you do in that situation - being rear ended in traffic with nowhere to go? I figured if you have a reversing camera, you throw your car into R and take a photo of their licence plate with your phone.

There's the hack!

Photo of reversing camera screen