THIS WEEK I turned 40. How does that explain the schoolgirl figure and youthful looks? Just lucky really. That's a joke for people who know what I actually look like. I'm a spring chicken in the body of an old boiler. Anyway, it's my party and I'll take the piss if I want to. I'll also play footy in the front yard and pull my skirt over my head if that's what turns me on. Lucky for the people over the road, it isn't.
Unfortunately for the people next door what does turn me on is listening to Abba on chockers at three in the morning. Can you hear the drums, Fernando? No, that's just that woman next door dancing in Cuban heels. We really should move. Or have her legs chopped off. So, 40, eh? Life begins apparently. It's been pretty good so far. And bad. Just different good and different bad.
So far? Upsides? Three beautiful kids, a clutch of incredible, inspiring supportive friends I would quite happily take a bullet for. Fourteen and a half years loving a beautiful man. A family who make me laugh and feel loved and are kind enough to let me love them. Being blessed enough to make a living out of what I love to do. But even when the pole dancing work dries up, hopefully, fingers crossed, I'll still be able to write sentences for a living.
Getting Olivia Newton-John's autograph was also a highlight. So too giving up guilt for Lent. And the best thing I've ever done? Become an atheist.
Most liberating moment? There have been several. Being sacked, placing my courage in the sticking place and spending my payout going to Japan (where I knew no one) to have an adventure. Discovering that kids can have Weet-Bix for dinner and go to sleep in their clothes, not brush their teeth and they won't die. Finding out that it's about memories not money. And realising that no one "lives" in a clean house. And knowing that your true friends will love you no matter what you do.
Discovering that the best way to cut pizza is with scissors, that you can dry socks in the microwave and that bacon is best cooked in a sandwich maker have been three of my most memorable moments. Another handy tip? When buying socks buy two identical pairs at a time then you have to lose three before you have an odd sock. And when in doubt just give money. And just when you think you've gone too far, go further.
Other things I've learnt. You can feed toddlers in the bath (thanks for that, Val from Mooroolbark). If you have a toothpaste stain on a black dress just colour it in with black texta. If you need to talk on the phone and you have three children under four, just sit them on a blanket, give them a spoon each and plonk a giant Milo tin in the middle. You don't need air-conditioning in a car, if it's hot just give each person a spray bottle filled with water. When you have three little boys at a check-out and you are halfway through a $300 load of shopping and one needs to have a wee ask the checkout chick for two plastic bags, put one inside another, tell everyone to close their eyes and make like a disposable urinal. Also, if it's a problem that can be fixed with money, it's not a problem. Although it is a pain in the arse.
If you can't be with the one you love, honey, get a giant block of chocolate, lie in the bath and listen to sad songs. Nothing is ever as good or bad as you think it will be.
Regrets? Not really. But plenty of disasters. Everything that's really blown up in my face (and trust me, there have been plenty) is where I've learned the most stuff. The Buddhists reckon every obstacle is to heal you or teach you. Which I have found to be true.
Where there's been the most pain in my life there's been the most growth. There is a great Zen saying: "You can't stop the waves but you can learn to surf."
There is something in faking it until you make it. I'm not talking about success, I'm talking about feeling lost, uncomfortable or out of place. A strap-on smile works wonders. Before you know it you're no longer faking it but making it. I just go in to Hokey Pokey mode. You put your left foot in. You put your left foot out. You put your left foot in and you shake it all about. You do the hokey pokey and you turn around. That's what it's all about.
On my gravestone I want this joke:
Q. How do you make God laugh?
A. Tell him your plans.
Source: the age.com
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