Don't you remember the days of the old school yard?

I’ve been tagged by the Blakkat to post about my earliest memory. My earliest memory is pretty fragmented, it’s sitting in a rocking chair rocking very hard with the sun streaming through the window. Ever-so-angelic, perhaps, but not particularly riveting.

My most memorable moment at kinder, however, is another story.

When I was four, I went to a small-town kinder. There were two groups at the kinder, “town group” and “country group”. I, being from outside the town, was in the country group, along with a boy who cracked his head open not once but twice on the slide, a boy I would go on to have a major crush on in Year Seven (but who appears in the kinder photo looking, shall we say, a little stunned), and a girl I ran into recently who has barely changed since then (although she IS taller, married and expecting her first baby).

I loved kinder. You can tell how much I loved it by looking at my kinder photo, where I was so enamoured of one of the dress ups that I wore it in every shot*. Not that I'm posting that here.

But when I wasn’t dressing up, I was out on the playground equipment. One particular day, I was climbing around the edge of the monkey bars when I had the bright idea to turn my body around so that I was facing out. I turned slowly, hooked my hands into the bars above my shoulders and….found I was stuck. Facing outwards with my heels just holding me onto the rung below me, I had stretched my hands far enough behind my back that I couldn’t confidently let go with one to allow me to spin around. Fortunately, a small boy named Brett** noticed my plight, and ran to tell the kindergarten teacher. Here is what he said:

“Mrs Taylor! Mrs Taylor! Come quick – Gigglewick tried to do a dangerous stunt, and now she’s stuck!!!!”

Moments later, the charming Mrs Taylor*** appeared and released me – but I have never forgotten the sheer terror of that moment, nor how relieved I was when she arrived.

Of course, not more than a year later I fell out of a tree while brushing my hair and hit my head on a concrete block causing an exorcist-like bout of concussion, so it’s fair to say I probably didn’t learn anything from the experience.



So I guess I’d best get into the business of tagging people – how about the We Do Talk About Our Kids crew (Miz, Actonb, INCraig, Meva and Melbournegirl) surely you were all as delightful in your young days as your own children are now?



* in my defence, it was a shiny, hot-pink cocktail dress with purple spots, and if that isn’t the most glamorous thing I had ever seen I don’t know what was****

** Brett later went out with one of my sisters friends for quite a while. He didn’t remember the kinder incident when I asked him. Probably unsurprising, given that his life wasn’t IN MORTAL DANGER.

*** Mrs Taylor, I am amazed to report, is still teaching at the kinder I went to. I was exclaiming that she must be ancient by now, but my mother helpfully pointed out that in fact Mrs Taylor is at least five years younger than my mum (who is now 55) which would have made her around 25 when she was my kinder teacher.

**** Also, my sister and I had a dress up box that included my mother’s strappy black high-heeled sandals and closed toe, black leather high-heels (I now have a pair remarkably similar). We used to call the closed toe heels “shopping shoes”. Now I am a mother, I can confidently say that anyone who wore those particular shoes shopping would have found out sharpish that they were making a huge mistake.

I don't understand how the last card is played/but somehow a vital connection is made

What a weekend.

John Howard quits as Leader and appears he will lose his seat (although Maxine still won’t call it). In retrospect, there was an awful lot of ink devoted to speculation about the longevity of Howard’s tenure post-leadership, perhaps some of this was slightly unnecessary?

Peter Costello quits as leader before he can even be elected leader (no one told Alexander Downer though). One also wonders how long before the by-election is called there, I’m assuming it will be swift.

The leadership battle is already interesting – Pyne vs. Abbott vs. Turnbull must be a relief for the ALP. While ascendancy of moderates might be something that Liberal moderates* want to see, in an adversarial system it doesn’t do the Left any favours. The question really is whether or not the current leader will make it all the way through to the next election, or whether those with real aspirations should keep their heads down until the recovery and recriminations are done**.

Mark Vaile quits as leader. The Nationals must be drawing the short straw to see who DOESN’T get a shadow ministry. Will Vaile stick around the full term? Anderson did, although he too is now gone.

Lyn Allison and Andrew Bartlett lose their seats. No need to elect a leader when there is no party to lead.

In state politics, Clare Martin and Syd Stirling have announced that they are standing down as Leader and Deputy Leader.

You asked for generational change, by gum, you’ve got it.

In my own world, things are decidedly brighter. There’s nothing like an election to flush your your natural allies (post-election Mondays can be interesting like that).

I got two text messages from people I didn't have in my phone - however as both were "Yay change of government" I daresay I will find out who they were soon enough.

I was walking casually (one might say, sauntering) down the hallway at work this morning and came across two of my work colleagues chatting. They were silent as I went past, before one of them yelled out “Look at Gigglewick!!!! Could she grin any wider?????”

The answer is, of course, no.

* Liberal moderate readers are, of course, more than welcome to join the ALP or the Greens. In fact, if Lib moderates had put their money where their mouth was they would have joined the Democrats and maybe they would still have a party.

** Why bother? If this isn’t the beginning of the most poisonous, back-biting horror that the Libs have seen in a decade I will eat my hat…but any grief counselor will tell you that now is the time to do it, not let it bubble up accidentally during a press conference to announce your "awesome new policies"***

*** Although I wouldn't hold your breath for those, either.

The old age is gone for good/welcome the young one....

So, it’s done. Rudd is our new PM, it appears that Maxine may be dancing the charlston on Howard’s political grave and even our early morning trip to the hardware store felt happier.

Because I am, as MsB has observed, Totally Hard Core, I was handing out How to Votes yesterday. This isn’t new for me, although it was strange to be doing it in an irretrievably Liberal seat*. I love doing HTVs, there is a strange sort of excitement and camaraderie that happens on polling booths no matter what party you're handing out for….and it’s always nice to have gnarly old goat dudes with great big bushy beards loom into your personal space yelling “WE’RE GOING TO BE CELEBRATING TONIGHT, AREN’T WE?”

One of the local churches delivered morning tea to each and every booth volunteer in our town. Morning tea = packet of chips, chocolate chip biscuits, m+ms, jubes, a piece of fruit (of our own choice) and a bottle of water. Now that’s (excuse the pun) service.

I have no stamina for political nail-biting anymore, so I used my stores of alcohol to be non-messy drunk by 8pm. We held off on champagne until 9:30pm, but we were so busy toasting Howard’s defeat speech that the house was dry by the time our new PM took the stage.

Mr Fix has already observed an anti-Rudd backlash on some of the forums he regularly visits, so it’s fair to say that he probably should avoid them for the next two days (although two days ago, he himself was convinced he was a DEMOCRAT of all things).

Grizzlewick saw the fabulous Senator Penny Wong on this morning’s Insiders and yelled and pointed:

“Penny Wong! She’s AWESOME, isn’t she?”

This was after I made him ring up his grandmother and say:

“Guess what we did last night Nana? We got rid of John Howard!”

It really melts the heart.

I may be able to form some more coherent notion about what this means in time, but for now, I’m just really happy.





* In the end, the swing here was 4.2% to Labor (2PP) and 2.5% to the Greens (primary), so it’s now below 10 per cent and what you might consider “difficult to win” (as opposed to “for crying out loud, forget it”).

Game on, polls

Okay, okay, settle down.



I just need everyone


to move to the LEFT.



About 5 per cent should do it.

but don't be shy - bring your friends if you want to!

If you leave me, can I come too?

When you’re in love with some one, you want them to have the best of everything. You want them to feel safe, you want them to feel supported.

But when you’re obsessed with some one, you start to make bad decisions about what that person wants, and how they might like to get it.


Obsessed people start to think of ways of keeping people who might make their lover uncomfortable out of their lover’s view.


Obsessed people try to think of ways to give extravagant gifts to their lovers


Obsessed people are jealous, and will lie about other potential suitors, because they want to control the person they’re with


Obsessed people encourage dependence by their lovers, and work to reduce their lovers’ access to independent advice and thought



But most commonly, obsessed people distort their relationships, because they are so worried about losing their lover that they cannot see clearly



It’s time for us to admit that our relationship is broken.


It’s time to end it.

Emergency #72

Gigglewick's phrase of the week:


“Non-specific emergencies”

This phrase is used on the safety instructions card at my workplace to describe everything other than armed intruders, fire, health crises and public disorder. I like the idea of a non-specific emergency, it sounds like the kind of time when you could reasonably run around in a flat panic - yelling and waving your arms in the air. I’m pretty sure that isn’t the safety instruction given, however.


Here are some non-specific emergencies I’d like to see in my workplace:

sudden infestation of chocolate frogs

flash flood of ylang-ylang scented spa-water

crisis meeting to ensure total staff familiarisation with season seven of The West Wing

friendly intruders with neck massage skills

emergency evacuation to pub on corner*


Sadly, I think that wishing for emergencies is also against workplace policy. Ah well, a girl can dream.


* Strangely enough, in the event of an emergency, the pub (car park) is actually our place of congregation.

Caroline says/While biting her lip/Life is meant to be more than this

I know I’ve been on quite the women’s issues jag lately, but frankly it’s been another crap week for women around the world.

In Saudi Arabia, the victim of a gang rape has been sentenced to 200 lashes and six months in jail for “being in a car with an unrelated male” at the time of her attack by six men. The Australian reports that , originally, she was sentenced to just 90 lashes, but the judges decided to make an example of her after she attempted to use the media to influence the judiciary, “aggravating” the case.


In Iraq, the growing crisis in refugee populations has led to a resurgence of “survival sex”, a form of prostitution which sees young women “married” to men for the course of a weekend, in return for short term support for their families.


In Australia, the latest wage figures are out, and I’m sure it’s no surprise to anyone to learn that they’re bad news for women. The pay gap for the average wage has increased to almost $10,000 a year, with women earning just 83 per cent of what men earn for the same hours worked.

This means that women have to work 427 days a year to earn the same as a bloke*. Or, put another way, they would have to work an EXTRA EIGHT YEARS to earn the same amount over the course of a lifetime to equal men’s earnings. None of this takes into account the fact that women are still usually the ones to take time out of the workforce to raise children (leaving them with even bigger deficit to make up).


Meanwhile, Tony Abbott, who once said that a bad boss was better than no boss**, is now encouraging workers who don’t like their workplace to quit. Onya Tony.


In Brisbane, queueing Qantas passengers have booed staff who went to the aid of an 80 year old woman who collapsed while waiting. The woman later died. According to some passengers, it probably served her right***.


And back to the USA, where men participating in a speed dating experiment undertaken by Columbia University have admitted that they don’t mind if women are smart, but they won’t date (any) women who think they are smarter than (some) men.


I have no witty rejoinder. I am just cross. In fact, if you can imagine whatever stereotype that the likes of Mr Bolt have in their mind when they imagine feminists, you've pretty much got the being that I have morphed into, Incredible Hulk style.



* Dudes, I'm well aware there aren’t 427 days in a year. I’m making a point, ‘kay?

** And in the same analogy also claimed that an abusive father was better than no father. What a champion.

*** Okay, I might have made that up.

I'll give you all of Sydney Harbour/All that land and all that water/For that one sweet promenade

What I got out of my trip to Melbourne this week

1. An awfully nice breakfast at the European. Great company, poached eggs with smoked salmon, excellent coffee. What more could one want?

2. A hat. No, literally. I was given a hat. So because I am a selfish type, I asked for another one. Two hats!!

3. A strange feeling that the car-parking attendants from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off were in fact, modeled on real car-parking attendants. At least these ones didn’t make fun of my reverse parking, like the guys from the old car-park near my work.

4. The delightful experience of being road raged by a truck driver for driving in the right hand lane of the highway and traveling at the speed limit. Who knew that was so outrageous? Much to my surprise, the LEFT lane is for people who want to observe the road rules, while the RIGHT lane is for PEOPLE IN A HURRY who have SCANT REGARD for the government and their pesky laws.

5. Wolf whistles x 2. Apparently the new hot thing in the CBD (apart from me, obvs), is wearing a white shirt and black pinafore dress with conservative silver jewelery and no make up. Am I the only one who is concerned about Occupational Health and Safety on work sites, given the increasing blindness of tradesmen?


All in all, it was a pleasant trip to Melbourne. Let's have more of those, shall we?

To you I'm a stranger*

....and the world folds in on itself.

I admit it, I’ve been pretty curious about fellow bloggers. There have been times when I’ve contemplated some kind of enormous get-together where we all stand around and regurgitate the funny lines from our blogs before lapsing into the inevitable awkward silence. There will be moments when we realise that the person we are chatting to has an in-depth knowledge of our waxing regimens, and the internet will be devoid of witty banter for a couple of hours, but I don’t let these things dissuade me.

Or at least I didn’t, until last week.

In the last week I have had no fewer than THREE incidents that have caused a sharp intake of breath on my behalf, and a realization that the world is frankly, small (after all).


Incident # 1

While perusing the various blogs I like to read, this week I came across a story about a girl I *loved* at primary school (she was two years older than me, but as there were only five girls at the school I went to, we were very good friends). This girl, who is not identified by her full name on the blog in question, was revealed to me to be an awesome, awesome legend in adult life. I am so very pleased about this. I would tell you where you can find this wonderful story, except that it might reveal the fact that I have a hyperactive brain that pulls together the kind of minute detail that other people might miss, obsessive Watergate-reporter style.


Incident # 2

While idly day-dreaming and thinking about the things we know and don’t know about our blogging compadres, I pieced together some information about another blogger (it was one of those click, click, click BOOM! moments). I discovered that there is the distinct possibility that this person knows a boy I went out with in high school, with whom this blogger shares an occupation. In fact, I have the strong suspicion that they shared a workplace.


Incident # 3

While perusing another blog, I found that a fellow blogger had spent a significant period of time in the same “scene” as me. In fact, this person may well know more than one person that I know. I promptly emailed this person to see whether or not we knew anyone in common. What I found is that not only did we know people who knew each other, we had been in the same place ON MORE THAN ONE OCCASION and had probably TALKED IN REAL LIFE.

My deep-seated George Costanza “worlds-are-colliding” feeling is exacerbated by the fact that we actually share a dislike of a particular person. On top of that, I discovered over the weekend that I wrote a reasonably scathing article (for me anyway, I used to try and dwell on the positive, something I have grown out of now) about something the blogger was involved in, which is no fault of the blogger in question. I wonder what the statute of limitations is on being cross with an up-startish young priss who thinks she knows everything about “the scene”**?


I thought I was all down with the "I don't need anonymity" thing.

I was wrong. But if I was a cat, I would be dead by now***.



* Look at me quoting the Sharp! For the second time in six months!

** All suggestions gratefully received, although five years seems reasonable…

*** "Satisfaction" pending.

Lady, what do you do all day?

Women earn less, according to Joe Hockey, because they choose to work in jobs that pay less. Essentially, it’s all our own fault. Nyer nyer nyer, boo sucks to you feminism, etc. But are these choices gendered at face value (because women make selfish choices which happen to lead to their own disadvantage), are or they gendered because women are making choices that advantage their families ahead of themselves?

Here are some established patterns for women and work:

Women work in casual jobs because they still retain the bulk of caring responsibilities and they assume (sometimes erroneously) that casual jobs will deliver better wage outcomes than permanent jobs

Women work part time to balance work and family – and increasingly women are now caring not only for their children but also for their parents

A major deficit of quality part time work in Australia means that many women are forced to choose between the job for which they are qualified/skilled and a lower-paying casual job which suits the “lifestyle” of raising a family

Girls who do not finish school are much more likely to suffer life-long career disadvantage than boys

Women are more likely than men to finish their working career with insufficient savings to retire independently

The main problem with Hockey’s argument (other than his breathtaking disregard for the labour market disadvantage experienced by women) is that it essentially argues that the work that women have historically done has no value when compared to male dominated industries.

Women are, as Hockey somewhat clumsily points out, over-represented in industries that tend to pay badly. Some of these industries pay badly because they are considered to be “low skill”* – for example cleaning, hospitality and retail. The history of women in these industries stretches back as far as the colonies, when women’s wages were regarded as a mere supplement to their husband’s wage – an argument which has kept women’s wages lower than men’s for OVER ONE HUNDRED YEARS**. Only now we call it choice, instead of systemic discrimination.

Other jobs where women are over-represented pay badly for, frankly, no good reason other than it suits those who are their employers to behave that way. Nursing is a classic example here. And while we’re talking of nursing, let’s add the other “caring professions” – aged care and childcare. All of these roles are agreed to be of critical importance in the community. When you ask people who are the most “under-rated” workers in our economy, these professions tend to top the list. Governments (at all levels) could have used their multi-million dollar surpluses to introduce some wage parity for the workers they employ (either directly or indirectly) themselves. Funnily enough they “chose” not to do that.

Meanwhile Government subsidies to women who leave the workforce to raise children – such as the Baby Bonus, childcare allowances, Family Tax Benefits etc – are not the mere result of a powerful feminist lobby, although you’ll hear no argument from me that such a lobby should exist. THIS ISN’T EXTRA MONEY. This money is being shifted – not created. In other words, while waving these incentives in the face of the community in a ham-fisted attempt to boost the birthrate, the government has also drastically changed its thinking about support for the most marginalized women in the community – single parents and single retirees.

The current government will tell you that there will be no way that future governments can afford the pension burden coming our way as a result of the looming baby-boom retirements***. So as a response, they’re funneling money into superannuation, and encouraging EVERYONE to stay in the workforce longer. What many baby-boom generation women are grappling with however, is the spectre of poverty. The divorce rate for women in this generation is significant, but their personal economic modeling was based on a double-income model. Many of these women divorced with no access to their partner’s super (which was earned with the expectation that it would be shared by two people), and were left to “start again”. Starting again for many women involved not only getting a job (any job) but also re-establishing a household and bearing the majority responsibility for the raising of children, a pattern which has only now started to shift in terms of its gender balance. These women have raised a generation of kids who are staying at home longer and are economically dependent on their families for much greater periods of time, despite their own (comparative) generational wealth.

So, I’ve made a choice too. I choose not to support a government that believes that women suffer no systemic discrimination…because making women’s interests “niche interests” and characterizing the needs of low-paid women workers as “choices” is one of the most offensive things I’ve heard in the campaign so far.

Oh, and I’m not a union official. But it’s moments like these that 70 per cent of me wishes I was.


* by economists, not by me.

** which is not to say that women haven't ALWAYS been poorly paid, but I'm talking about an era in which women's work outside the home exploded in both numbers and rates. You can't half tell I've been reading a bit of Marilyn Lake lately, can you?

*** this is the same government also tells us that they “can’t predict what will happen in the economy” next week, but also that they can control interest rates, so I guess you should take their statements with a grain of salt.

Don't believe the hype

In not entirely unsurprising election news, the latest GiggleWickPoll was released which reveals an increased resentment in the community as the election draws near.

100 per cent of the polling population has reported an increase in anger at the Liberal Party’s election advertising – due mainly to increased interruptions not only to commercial viewing such as So You Think You Can Dance but also putting valuable minutes between the intelligentsia and Not Quite Art.

101 per cent of those polled prefer another Prime Minister to John Howard, and qualitative research shows that popular choices include not only Kevin Rudd (30 per cent) but also Julia Gillard (40 per cent), “Anyone except Peter Costello” (5 per cent) and “Me – I think I’d be good at that” (26 per cent).

65 per cent admitted that they regularly lie to opinion pollsters, with a further 25 per cent conceding that they would not reveal to opinion pollsters whether or not they were truthful in their responses. 10 per cent of people polled revealed that they regularly adopt a persona while speaking to opinion pollsters (e.g. wealthy business tycoon, sports star, pirate), which may impact on poll’s effectiveness, and certainly has led to an increase in speculation about a “free parrots for all” election promise.

Other pressing issues on the agenda for the electorate were “what am I going to make for dinner”, “why don’t people put their paper towel in the bin after they’ve washed their hands in the workplace toilets” and “should I put some more songs on my Ipod”. While neither major party admits to responding to polls, an announcement is expected this week on the critical issue of dinner confusion.

While this poll presents worrying news for both the government and the opposition, the electorate is also anxious. When asked about plans for election night, 60 per cent of the electorate planned on getting drunk before the polls were closed, 30 per cent planned to bite their nails to the quick as they sweated in front of the ABC coverage. 10 per cent of those polled were undecided, pending the outcome of further polling, how Kevin Rudd's hair was looking and whether or not there was a barbecue/car-boot sale at their local polling venue.

Another letter from a girl that I don't know

Writing love letters on the campaign trail

---

Dear Tim Costello,

While I truly, truly love you when it comes to the Make Poverty History campaign, one has to ask if wedg(ie)ing your own brother on national television is very polite.

I mean, he might be a bit of a smug b-stard, but he’s no Julian McGauran.

Yours truly,

Gigglewick

---

Dear Nicola Roxon,

There is nothing I love better than some one making Tony Abbott so angry (while, I might add, making a completely valid point) that he breaks out the swears on national television.

Yours courteously,

Gigglewick

PS Your hair is awesome.

cc. Julia Gillard

---

Dear Tony Abbott,

Please campaign more.

Pleasant regards,

Gigglewick

---


Dear Julia Gillard,

I don’t know if you’ve seen my letter to Nicola, but just wanted to note that I also think your hair is looking fabulous.

WHICH IS NOTHING COMPARED TO HOW MUCH I ENJOYED YOUR STOUSH WITH TONY ABBOTT ON LATELINE THIS WEEK.

Love,

Gigglewick

---

Dear Family First Candidate,

You should probably have checked your outfit with your Liberal opponent before you did that public event. He looked quite dapper in that suit. You looked lumpy and broad-shouldered by comparison.

Just sayin'.

Yours sincerely,

Gigglewick

----

Dear Richard Wilkins,

You have silly hair. But you did come to the defence of Peter Garrett tonight, and for that the rock-music public thanks you, but doesn't forgive you (for your stupid hair).

Warm wishes,

Gigglewick

Note: this is, at least in part, an homage to Chesty Larue, who has so perfected the open letter concept.