Photo Friday

After a few too many glasses of champagne tonight, you can forgive me if I can't give you two posts to get caught up.  So let's have another meet-and-greet of another co-worker and I'll deliver the Skinfest tomorrow:

Now Rockin' Robbie doesn't ordinarily look like this.  I snapped this picture a few weeks ago during the World's Greatest Shave Day, where folks either shave or colour their hair in support of leukemia patients (of which we have many).  Rockin' Robbie is an absolute mad Kiwi who looks out for me when I'm having a bad day, whose gruff exterior covers a solid heart of gold and who still owes Momma Mooselet some Kiwi chocolate for the flavoured water sachets she's taken a liking to.  Love ya, Robbie!

SRSLY?

Now I expect to have to give step-by-step instructions to Clive.  First put on your socks and then your shoes.  He's 4.  Or when I ask Her Majesty to put her clothes away I mean all of her clothes and sometimes I need to remind her of that fact.  After all, she's 7.

But Sparky?  The boy is 16.  Surely when I ask him to take out the trash I don't have to ask him to put a new liner into the bin?

Or maybe the fact that he's 16 means I certainly have to remind him to do that last step.

It's the little things that make me want to own something like this:

Saturday Skinfest

Welcome to a special edition of the Skinfest.  I was going through my files, pondering which pictures to use when I came across a set of pics that have been sitting on my hard drive for ages.  I thought I would let them see the light of day again.  Ladies and gentlemen please give a warm welcome to Mr. Hugh Jackman:

Oh yeah...

No need to suck it in for the cameras, Hugh.

The gorgeous smile adds the perfect touch, IMO.

And since I went all Hollywood tonight, here's some more Amanda Peet.

More skin, more footy, next week.

Photo Friday

Time to meet another one of my co-workers.  She's going to absolutely murder me when she sees the picture I've used, but I will soothe her with Ben & Jerry's ice cream and explain why I love this pic of her:

Please welcome Highland Cow to the blog. No, I did NOT choose her name. She did after I threatened her to come up with name before I chose something appropriately Scottish like 'Agnus'.  Now why do I love this face Highland Cow pulls?  Because whenever we are having a shit day at work she will pull this face and my mood is instantly lifted.  HC knows her stuff, is someone I turn to for advice and with whom I'm always very happy to work with. And I'm very envious that she can roll her r's in that way the Scottish have. I only wish we worked more than 1 day a week together now that I'm off on Mondays.

Janis

Poppa Mooselet was a big Janis Joplin fan.  This song never fails to remind me of him:

The Wisdom of Dr. Seuss

If your child doesn't own/didn't own at least one Dr. Seuss book, I think it's safe to say your child is seriously deprived.  If you never owned/read a Dr. Seuss book, then you were seriously deprived.  Dr. Seuss was a fucking genius.  The other night I was reading Oh, The Places You'll Go! to Her Majesty and if you've never read this book you've been deprived.  Seriously deprived.  It's a good reminder of the fact that life is a never ending journey, with it's ups and downs, successes and failures.  Here, I'll read it to you now:

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places!
You’re off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who’ll decide where to go.

You’ll look up and down streets. Look ’em over with care. About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.” With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet, you’re too smart to go down a not-so-good street.

And you may not find any you’ll want to go down. In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town. It’s opener there in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen, don’t worry. Don’t stew. Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.

Oh! The Places You’ll Go!

You’ll be on your way up!
You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.

You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed. You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you’ll be best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don’t.
Because, sometimes, you won’t.

I’m sorry to say so but, sadly, it’s true that Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you.

You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch. And your gang will fly on. You’ll be left in a Lurch.

You’ll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump. And the chances are, then, that you’ll be in a Slump.

And when you’re in a Slump, you’re not in for much fun. Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked. Some windows are lighted. But mostly they’re darked. A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin! Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in? How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And if you go in, should you turn left or right…or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite? Or go around back and sneak in from behind? Simple it’s not, I’m afraid you will find, for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.

No! That’s not for you!
Somehow you’ll escape all that waiting and staying. You’ll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing. With banner flip-flapping, once more you’ll ride high! Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you’re that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you’ll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all. Fame! You’ll be famous as famous can be, with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don’t. Because, sometimes, they won’t.

I’m afraid that some times you’ll play lonely games too. Games you can’t win ‘cause you’ll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not, Alone will be something you’ll be quite a lot.

And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.

But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak. On and on you will hike. And I know you’ll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are.

You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed.)

Kid, you’ll move mountains!
So…be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O’Shea, you’re off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!

So where are you right now in Life's Great Balancing Act?  This book is a popular gift for new graduates, but I'd like to suggest that everyone go out and get a copy for themselves.  That Dr. Seuss knows what he's talking about.

Out of the Closet - Losing My Religon

Growing up, I very rarely went to church.  Poppa Mooselet's family was a fairly strict Irish Catholic one (they disowned him for a time following his divorce from his first wife), and Momma Mooselet's had similar roots but was less strict.  That being said, neither of my parents were religious.  PM was more devoted to Budweiser than Jesus, and MM had no use for the Catholic church after they turned their backs on her family when her father died, leaving Grandma Mooselet alone with 7 kids (MM was 11 years old).  That being said, both of my parents believed in the Christian God.

My friends mostly went to CCD classes, and while I recall asking MM about them I never felt left out or a desire to go myself.  As I got older I went to church now and again, mostly because it was a condition of my BFF Ree being allowed to sleep over on a Saturday night.  But I never really understood why people went.  If God was everywhere like my parents and friends said, why did people have to go into a man-made structure to talk to Him?  Couldn't I go to a beautiful place created by Him and have a chat?  Why did people need priests?  Could they read the Bible for themselves and pray directly to God? And while we're on the subject of God being everywhere, what the hell was He doing in my tuna fish sandwich?  Didn't He have anything better to do?

I asked a lot of questions as a kid.

So I grew up with an attitude that religion was fairly useless.  People fought over who had the better God, or which interpretation of the Bible was correct.  That's pretty fucked up.  But when I pressed I said I still believed in God and I labeled my belief agnosticism without really knowing what that meant.  As I got older I continued in this vein but called myself spiritual as well as agnostic.  A fluffy feel-good answer that seemed to satisfy most people.

Except me.  I started to examine what I really meant when I said I believed in a god but not a specific one.  Why did I believe this?  I couldn't really answer to my satisfaction - the best answer and most honest answer I could come up with was 'habit'.  I took the time to look up what agnostic really meant and while I was surprised to learn it didn't mean what I thought it meant I found the definition resonated with me:

a person who holds that the existence of the ultimate cause, as god, and the essential nature of things are unknown and unknowable

Well duh! I had a light bulb moment.  I had been right to call myself an agnostic, but was doing it for the wrong reason.  I suddenly felt far more comfortable in my agnostic skin than I had ever been.

I have heard it said that agnosticism is a 'fence-sitting' position.  You are either a believer or an atheist and one should choose a side.  You are with us or against us.  What a black-or-white bullshit view of the world.  Do I believe in a god?  No, personally I do not.  However I am open to the idea of a such a deity if there was evidence to support such a being.  Do I think this is likely?  No, but I'm open to the idea as I cannot claim for certain one does not exist.  I cannot prove a negative, after all.  For all I know this exists:

Why it's the Celestial Teapot, silly.  How could you not know that?

Or my personal favourite:

May you be touched by the Noodly Appendage of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. Ramen.

Just as there is a range of those who follow a religous creed, from evangelical/fundamentalist to turn up to church a couple times of year there is a range of agnosticism and I would classify myself, based on the above statements, as an atheistic agnostic.  Ramen.

Yeah, I can tell you're underwhelmed, particularly if you've followed me or known me for any length of time.  But man does it feel good to say it out loud.

Out of the Closet, Preamble

OK kids, I promised you a new series of posts and this is it.  I'm calling it 'Out of the Closet'.  And no, I'm not using that term in the sense that I'm announcing a change to my sexuality.  Sorry if I made some of you do a double take.  No, still straight.

I'm using the term in the sense that "in political, casual, or even humorous contexts, 'coming out' means by extension the self-disclosure of a person's secret behaviors, beliefs, affiliations, tastes, and interests that may cause astonishment..."  Thanks, Wikipedia!  A lot of my blog has talked about my life here in Brisbane, my experiences and my family.  There has been some discussion about how I feel about certain subjects, so no doubt some of my revelations will be less than shocking.  However I've become more certain and more vocal about other aspects and I think it's time I share a bit.


First installment coming soon.

You're Reading What??

I came home from the footy on Friday night and, after getting the kids to bed, jumped onto the internet to check the news.  I don't have lots of time, but I like to at least scan the headlines.  I had not heard at that point about the Japan earthquake and subsequent tsunami, but when I saw the headline it was the first story I checked instead of my planned foray into the sports section.

The next morning it was much the same.  With so much devastation before your eyes it makes you take stock of what's important in your life.

Unless you live in Sydney, apparently.  When I scrolled to the bottom of the screen of my local online rag newspaper to see what other papers in Australia were reporting I was stunned to see to the top story in the Daily Telegraph, one of the top papers in New South Wales:

Yes, the top trending story in Sydney that Saturday morning was about Charlie Sheen.  Hell, Japan didn't even make the top 3!  I know some people have found Charlie Sheen's actions of late amusing - personally I think he's mentally ill and can't see the funny in that - but really...  Stories about an actor and a football player beat out a disaster of mammoth proportions?  Really? 

Saturday Skinfest

So as I mentioned I was at the Broncos opener last night.  Our Christmas present from Momma Mooselet and Shepster was a membership with the Broncos that came with tickets to four games throughout the year - an Awesome Foursome pack.  The club chooses the games and they are pretty sweet games - season opener against the Cowboys that drew over 45,000, Storm, Dragons and Titans.  We have front row seats just past the try line (US- think end zone).  Despite my beloved Broncos losing last night, we had a fantastic time.  So a huge thanks to Momma Mooselet and Shepster.

Right, Skinfest while it's still Saturday:

Karlmichael Hunt may be gone to the AFL (traitor) however Shaun Berrigan - the one in desperate need of some sunshine - is back in the NRL after playing in England for a few years, now playing for the Warriors.  Welcome back, Shaun!

Speaking of old school, check out the Shirtless Wonder Darren Lockyer back when he had a full head of hair.  Wonder if he knew then he'd be wearing it like a convict now.

A view anyone watching an Eels game is familiar with, although it's unusual for him to have his shorts on!  Points to the first one to name the player.

Meet Sammy, one of the Broncos cheer squad members.  My front row seat also saw the cheer girls shaking their, er, pom poms right in front of us.  When they scurried out of the rain for a bit I did wonder if it was to prevent all the fake tan from washing off.

More skin next week!

Photo Friday

I know you'll all forgive me for being late.  I was at the season opener of my beloved Brisbane Broncos last night courtesy of an awesome Christmas present from Momma Mooselet.  More about the game on the upcoming Skinfest.  Let's get to today's photo:

This is GirlyGirl... Not the greatest name, but she didn't give me one despite insisting I feature she next in Photo Friday so it's the best I could come up with.  GirlyGirl is from the Philippines, and has to be one of the sweetest and most innocent creatures on the planet.  Despite her quiet nature, she has a core of steel to make it through a personal tragedy and come out the other end still sweet and sane.  I love working with her.

Now Presenting

I have a presentation to give at work tomorrow and my stomach is already twisting.  Never mind that it's an inservice for my peers, all of whom are very kind and most of whom like me and will cut me some slack.  Never mind that I've been working on this since last year and have had it finished for a couple of months now.  Never mind I'm familiar with the chemotherapy agent I'll be talking about (cytarabine, if you must know).  Never mind that nearly all the nurses have had to go through this very same thing, albeit not for a while now as I was one of the new ones who missed out on the first round and the first of that newbie crowd to have it finished.

Never mind any of that.  I have never been good at public speaking of any kind.  In grade 10 we had to put on a 10-15 performance of the final act of a play (Gods of Lightning, of which I can find no Google reference) and I got suckered into the lead performance in my group - all shy kids like myself.  We also each had to give a presentation about some aspect of our preparation.  I don't remember what mine was, maybe the costumes.  Our teacher filmed the presentations and performance and I actually refused to watch the replay.  If I could have fled the room I would have; instead I put my head down on my desk and may have even covered my ears.  My presentation actually earned me an award: Most Nervous During a Presentation.  Really.

Yes, I still have it.  And yes, that's my real name.  Well, my maiden name.  Don't tell anyone.  And my English teacher wasn't as big of a dick as this award makes him out to be.

 So I'm really not looking forward to tomorrow.  All of a sudden I'm an awkward 15 year old again.

Photo Friday

I promised some posts about my job since it is now such a huge part of my life so what better place to start than by introducing you to some of the folks I work with.  Geez, run-on sentence much?

I work with a fantastic group of nurses from all over the world, literally.  This one is from New Zealand:

Meet Poodles.  At least that's the blog name she came up with, and since my nickname is Moose who am I question Poodles?  I am always very happy when I am on Poodles' team - she is very knowledgeable about the various protocols, especially hematology, and has a wicked sense of humour.  We have a lot of fun together, Poodles and I.