Archives for August 2005

‘That Happy Feeling’

August 31, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

1962_bertkaempfert_swingin_safari A friend was round the other day and he paid me out for having this album – ‘A Swingin’ Safari’. He couldn’t help it, the A Swingin’ Safari beckoned him and he put it on the turntable and he actually liked it.

If you’re feeling a bit sad and lonely I would recommend dragging this album out of your record collection, putting it on. I reckon you will be tapping your feet while you’re listening to this

If you don’t believe me, visit your local op-shop and I’ll bet they have a copy you can purchase. Don’t know if it exists on CD, but surely if you don’t have a turntable someone you know must have and they will play it for you, or there’s modern technology where you can burn CDs from records.

Go on, I dare you.

Some stuff about A Swingin’ Safari’s creator, Bert Kaempfert.

It was written by Bert Kaempfert
Bert Kaempfert was responsible for writing Wayne Newton’s big hit ‘Danke Schoen’
Wikipedia’s page about Bert Kaempfert

This is just for Monty

August 30, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

Monty, Montsta, Monts, Monty girl – you don’t feature that much in my blog and it’s not because I don’t love you. I just take you for granted I suppose. So this is for you.

I consider you my first ‘child’ and sometimes when I’m talking to mum on the phone I mention you as her black furry granddaughter. You came along in my life when I’d recently split up from a long-term boyfriend. A friend came over for dinner one night to help cheer me up after my breakup and she told me that a colleague of hers had to give you away and asked me if I was interested. I’d been saying for a while I wanted a dog therefore I was definitely interested so she arranged for us to meet.

When you got out of your previous owner’s car I was standing in the front yard of my friend’s place with about four other friends and you came straight up to me and I knew in that instant that I would keep you. I picked you up a week or so later and we went home. I’d offered to pay for you and your previous owner declined that offer so I bought him a slab of beer for you. I’m sure he thought of you while he was drinking it. Unfortunately he committed suicide about a year ago so I’m glad you were living with me and didn’t have to live through that disruption.

The first few weeks you were at my place you used to give me a questioning look with your brown eyes as if to say, what’s going on here? Why am I now with you? You started off sleeping in my room at a basket at the foot of my bed but when I went away in 2000 you became accustomed to sleeping in the back room which is where you still sleep now in your basket. This means you can run outside through the old cat flap you can squish yourself through and patrol the outskirts of the property watching out for any intruders or just barking at passersby.

In 2001 there was a big change in our household when JJ came along. I always used to think you didn’t take that much notice of him but I now know that you love him as much as he loves you even though you’ve gone down a notch in the pecking order of our household.

You’ve been an absolute bonus to me. It’s true what they say that a dog is ‘man’s’ best friend. You love me unconditionally. Even after I’ve yelled at you for digging a hole in the garden, or digging up part of the lawn you still love me, and I still love you after I’ve fixed up your mess. How could I not adore those beautiful brown eyes begging for forgiveness.

You make me go for walks with you and it’s good for both of us. A year or so after I got you my jeans were a bit looser and it’s because I went walking with you every day. This is why I’ve dubbed you my personal trainer. Because of you I’ve made friends with other local dog owners – pity you couldn’t introduce me to a cute boy through his dog but I’m sure you’re working on it. I sure am!

You are a very cute animal and very soft to the touch although I do wish you didn’t drop your hair all over my house.

My only other gripe is the barking. I know you are telling anyone who comes near the place that this is your territory and they will only enter at their own risk but do you have to bark during the night at someone who walks past our place and doesn’t even come in? Having said that, I think you have scared away potential burglars. Our next door neighbour got broken into recently and I’ll bet they didn’t try our house because of you, so I guess I’m prepared to put up with a bit of barking.

I sometimes wonder if you realise you’re a dog Monty. You like to be amongst us humans and if you’ve been banished outside you make it your mission to get inside. Luckily with kids around your job of getting inside is made a lot easier. And because you are so cute and slinky when it comes to trying to stay inside, you more often than not get away with it. I also like the way you turn people around that don’t like dogs too much. You seem to know who these people are and make a point of putting your head on their lap so they’ve got no choice but to pat you.

Well, Monty, hopefully we will have you for many more years to come. We love you.

DVDs

August 25, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

At the beginning of this year I bought myself a DVD player. I was going to wait to venture into the DVD world when DVD recorders/players became cheaper but the DVD player I bought myself was only just over $100 so not too bad an investment.

So I’ve got my DVD player and I finally set it up. I don’t have the surround sound movie system so I had to press lots of buttons on the remote to set it up for my TV sound. Finally did that.

I sat down to watch Shrek 2 with my son and realised that it took quite some time to actually get to the movie. With a video you can sit there and fast forward all the introduction crap and get to the movie and press play. Not with a DVD. Silly me thought it would be more convenient. I thought you could either do a similar thing to a video by fastforwarding the stuff you didn’t want to watch, or select the movie part on the menu. But no. You have to sit there and watch the Dolby stereo sound bit, then you have to sit there and watch the writing on the screen saying that this movie is not for distribution blah blah blah. Unlike a video, it’s not so easy, or just not doable at all to fast forward this rubbish.

Of course every movie is different but there’s always these little bits and pieces that have to be endured before the actual movie starts.

I’m annoyed about that. I don’t like being forced to do anything I don’t want to do and why should I?

What inspires you to write in your weblog?

August 23, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

I had an email dialogue with a new weblogger this morning – Joy Des Jardins over at The Joy of Six which started off by me welcoming her to the blogosphere and noting how addictive blogging is. She said, ‘It is MOST addictive…but, it’s one thing to be addicted to other people’s blogs and trying to maintain your own…any suggestions?’

It got me thinking about what inspires me to write for my own blog. Here’s what I came up with.

First of all a passion for writing is within, and consuming. I used to keep paper journals and still have them but trying to write on paper regularly was not maintainable and this weblog is, especially as I can type a lot faster than I can write. Every writer I’ve ever listened to says that a writer must write, write, write. It makes sense, so I’ve taken it on board. Also, when I was studying for my degree a lecturer told me to write every day. It didn’t have to be much, just so long as I wrote. A blog satisfies this for sure and is the best solution for me to write nearly every day.
(Update: I think a writer needs to read too and I definitely do lots of reading.)
Reading other people’s blogs inspires me. Sometimes I’ll be reading a blog and a thought will go off in my head and I’ll expand on it in a blog post. This is how this blog post was initiated, through reading and emailing with Joy DJ.
Just observing things that go on around me inspires me to write here. It can be something that I had a great time doing and I want to share, or it can be something that really pissed me off that I need to get off my chest. Writing is fantastic therapy for this.
The last thing I can think of at this stage for my blog maintenance inspiration is the hope that I will find my niche with this writing thing. I know it’s at the tip of my fingers and on the periphery of my brain but I wish it would show itself. (I just read Joy’s about page and read that she’s searching for her niche too. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.)

I’m interested in more dialogue about this. What inspires you to write in your blog?

Rain rain go away, come again another day

August 22, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

I had a serious case of cabin fever this weekend because the rain kept us inside. The dog missed out on her walk for two days. I couldn’t get JJ to go outside because it was raining, although he probably would not have cared about getting wet. Good weather makes such a difference to the psyche and I am waiting for some sun.

I think we’ve had enough rain now to fill up some reservoirs, seriously water the garden, fill up the rainwater tank. We need some sunshine now thanks so I can get out in the garden and pick some of those weeds and mow some of those weeds.

And now it’s bloody raining again, dagnabbit.

Remember when you found out you were going to have a baby?

August 16, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

I’ve started a new category called Retrospective. Up until now this blog has pretty much been about what’s happening to me right now. Stuff has happened in the past so I thought I’d share it occasionally. This is one of those stories.

I was lying in bed the other morning knowing that it was cold and that I did not want to get up and start the day. In retrospect I wish I had stayed in bed. But for some reason I started thinking back to the time when I found out I was pregnant.

October-November 2000
The first inkling I had besides a late period (sometimes these things happen right?) was going out one night and finding swallowing a beer felt funny. Normally I like to have a beer or more but the sensation in the back of my throat when I swallowed beer this time was really strange. I was at the Mother’s Bar near Old Street tube station in London. During this time in London I spent a lot of time there. It was free to get in, it was open late and there were some good DJs playing. I didn’t think then that I was pregnant, I had no idea, and it definitely wasn’t something that had been planned. After all I’d only just met my son’s father and this wasn’t something we had discussed.

The next inkling I had that helped me piece the possible pregnancy puzzle pieces together was the nausea. My nausea happened in the late afternoon which I guess at the time was my morning as I had turned into a night owl while I was in London this time, sleeping during the day and going out quite late at night. Whenever I caught a bus I would sit as close as I could to the exit in case I needed to vomit. Luckily I never embarrassed myself by vomiting on a bus or in public.

The nausea and the funny swallowing sensation, coupled with the late period and tender breasts made me think that indeed I could be pregnant. It’s hard to describe how I felt. As I said I’d only just met JJ’s father and I’d primed my family so they didn’t expect children from as I had no intention of becoming a parent. The word denial comes into how I felt or how I dealt with this.

Luckily I had a friend with me and she convinced me to have a pregnancy test. This we did one evening with a bottle of Campari and some soda water waiting in preparation for whatever outcome. Of course the pregnancy test was positive. I was still in denial and never really got over my denial until an ultrasound when I was about 17 weeks pregnant and back in Australia.

I thought I could put off everything, if I didn’t think about it, it wasn’t happening. I didn’t contact anyone family or friends back in Australia during this time as I knew I would feel weird talking to them without divulging my newly pregnant state. And even if I didn’t mention that I was pregnant, to a guy I’d just met, I knew I just couldn’t face speaking to them or even write them a postcard.

I was still in denial after I told JJ’s father and when he got over his initial feelings of shock, he quite proudly told his friends that I was pregnant. I distinctly remember confirming that I thought I might be pregnant. As a friend said, you either are or you’re not. But I was in denial so the longer I did not admit it, the longer I could delude myself that things really were normal and my life wasn’t about to change dramatically.

Looking back, I’m surprised I didn’t entertain the thought of abortion as the situation meant that JJ’s father most probably wouldn’t be around. If I had this baby I had to prepare myself for single motherhood. Having an abortion did cross my mind ever so momentarily and then it was brushed aside permanently. Even after I got back to Australia and had gathered my thoughts somewhat, been to the doctor and had yet another pregnancy test (I did my second one with JJ’s father) I didn’t even bring up that abortion word. I thought fate my take a hand and I might have a miscarriage. If this had happened I’m sure I would have been devastated but resigned to the fact that having a baby was not meant to be.

The rest as they say, is history. Fate did take a hand and I had a baby boy who is now four years old and I’ve done it by myself from the word go. I do go through the ‘what ifs’. What if I had an abortion or a miscarriage. Would I have met someone else and fallen pregnant again. What if I never had children? How different would my life be?

The story about his father is something I don’t know if I’m ready to share with the blogosphere. Maybe later. I’m currently grappling with what to tell my son about why his father isn’t here as he keeps on asking me and he keeps on saying he sees his daddy. At least he doesn’t call complete strangers, or friends, his daddy any more. It’s heartbreaking when he asks me why his daddy isn’t here as I don’t have a suitable answer for a four year old to tell him.

I’d love to hear your story. How did you feel when you, or your partner, found out you were pregnant?

Footy and food – not to be mixed

August 14, 2005 by Jen at Semantically driven

Mum and dad were over in town for a couple of days recently so JJ and I went out to dinner with them on Thursday night. We walked into the Hyde Park Tavern and wondered why there was a great big spotlight shining on the majority of the dining tables. There was also some camera and sound type equipment setup to go with the spotlight. We talked to a waitress and asked for a table for four and she told us that there wasn’t one available until the people with the camera equipment had finished.

Ever curious I asked what was going on. She told us that it was set up for a live sports cross for the news that night. As some Port Power guys have taken over the hotel they do this live cross on a Thursday evening every few weeks. None of us were really keen to wait and the fact that we had JJ with us and it was already past 6pm and we wouldn’t be ordering until around 6.30 meant that eating there wasn’t really an option if we wanted a relatively peaceful meal.

I am not a football fan by any means and wasn’t in the bar to ‘star’ spot, although on the way out there was a lovely tall blonde man with a Port Power uniform on. I gather he was one of the players.

I don’t really understand Australia’s obsession with AFL to the detriment of equally or more worthy things like the music, theatre, or the arts in general. I’m sure the game itself is quite good and as I have a son, the likelihood of him playing some sort of sport is quite high. I imagine at some stage I’ll have to go and watch him kick, throw or hit a ball around at ungodly hours on a weekend. But why has it been elevated to some sort of cult status?

Ever since Adelaide had two teams join the national football the hype surrounding it has gone through the roof. During the football season it’s very hard to find a non-football related story on the front page of our only statewide paper. Is there nothing else that journalists can find to cover a story on? At least here in South Australia the first question you are NOT asked when you meet someone is what football team do you barrack for? In Victoria, this is quite different where football is like a religion there and most people think you are a bit weird if you confess that you don’t like the game.

Back to dinner. We went across the road to Kibbi’s and enjoyed a lovely meal there. They are also quite kid friendly as their menu comes with some colouring in activities and a cup full of textas.