The Cost of Living

There's no doubt I live in the 'lucky' country. We have beautiful beaches, gorgeous landscapes, well maintained cities, supportive public transport systems and we are a relatively safe place to live. But our 'luck' comes at a price. Our cost of living is highway robbery.

I recently read that Australia's cost of business is the second highest in the world, second only to Japan. Our electricity costs are the highest in the western world and only about to be raised once our carbon tax is introduced in July 2012. Our food prices are atrocious. Bananas have been as high as $18 a kilo when our banana plantations were terrorised by cyclones and floods (now they are done to a respectable $3 a kilo), but a loaf of bread is around $4 a loaf, eggs are around $5 a dozen, toilet paper is $11 for a pack of 8 rolls, and tampons... don't get me started on feminine products. Today I took my boys ice-skating... something that they decided that they love and want to do regularly. For one adult and two children plus skate hire, it was $58 (and $3 for locker hire). When I came home, I decided to do a price comparison around the world.

Ice-skating: one adult, two children, skate hire.
Santa Fe, USA: $5.00 per adult, $1.75 per child, $3 each for skate hire. $US17.50
Melbourne, Australia: $AUD58 for package. ($US60.36)
Manchester, UK: 24 pounds, 1 pound for locker hire ($US38.45, $US1.60 for locker hire)
Auckland, New Zealand: $NZ43.00 ($US35.35)
Ontario, Canada: $CA30.00 ($US30.12)

Bananas per pound
Portland OR, USA: 59c
Paris, France: $US2.68
Rio De Janerio, Brazil: $US0.25
Melbourne, Australia: $AU0.73 ($US0.76)

Eggs per dozen
Little Rock, AK, USA: $1.00
London, UK: $US5.28
Melbourne, Australia $US4.80
Rio De Janerio, Brazil: $US0.84
Hong Kong, China: $US1.80

Loaf of bread:
Los Angeles, USA: $2.29
Melbourne, Australia: $US4.22
Berlin, Germany: $US2.50
London, UK: $US0.74


As you can see, our basics are well above, in most cases, that of the rest of the civilised world. It makes it hard to get your head above water, and definitely separates the rich from the poor. I had a conversation recently with a friend in the US about giving my boys a dinner of cold meats, nice breads and fresh salad vegetables and cheese that we could graze on. My boys loved it, but it's an expensive meal - $25 for the three of us in basic form, $50 for the three of us if we had more meat, soft cheese and more of a variety of salad vegetables from the basic lettuce, tomato, carrot and cucumber.

So wherever you live, think about what it costs where you live for the basics versus other cities in the world. It might give you a new appreciation for what you have readily accessible to you, and what you don't.


References:
http://www.dailyfinance.com/photos/food-price-comparison-around-the-world/#photo-8
http://www.dailyfinance.com/photos/food-price-comparison-around-the-world/#photo-5
http://www.dailyfinance.com/photos/food-price-comparison-around-the-world/#photo-6
http://www.silver-blades.co.uk/page/Times_and_Prices_(Term)/Altrincham
http://www.chavezcenter.com/
http://www.icehouse.com.au/home/visitor-information/tickets/pricing

The Hunger Games

I took my boys to see the Hunger Games on the weekend. I really didn't know what it was about before we left. I'd see previews, and thought it was about a conscription style 'game' that promoting starvation in primitive surrounds. Well... I was half right, just didn't realise that there was an outright winner after all others died.

We went inside the cinema, one of the first to be seated. A lady in front of me turned around and said to me 'I'm glad someone else has brought their children to this.' I was a little concerned by her comment. Isn't this another teenage book that's turned into a movie? Why wouldn't children watch this, like Harry Potter and Twilight, if the story isn't targeted at children?

As more and more seats filled up, so were the seats that contained children size bottoms on them. As we sat in a group of four seats, but only occupying three, an elderly gentleman was allocated the seat next to me, and questioned "Is this a kid's film?" I just told him that it was a teenage book, maybe that's why there were so many kids. The cinema would have been three-quarters filled with children between the ages of eight and seventeen.

As as the dark gloomy setting of a coal mining town set upon us in the opening scenes with an ostentatious looking pink wigged, over-make-uped woman taking the centre stage of the conscription style assembly, you soon realise it's a battle of the classes, the battle of survival, a battle between eight-eighteen year olds to be the last one standing in any possible way it can be done.

After the movie, I had a chat with a fairly conservative older parent who can sometimes have fairly liberal views, but not when it comes to raising children, and essentially the protection of children. Admittedly, The Hunger Games has taken the concept of video game surreality into movie made reality. This isn't animated figures killing each other, it's children killing children with weapons. There really is only two scenes that are so blatant to show children doing this to each other - the first scene is murderous, the second scene is self-defence. But it happens so quickly that it's forgotten as soon as it happens. And I think that was a clever editing tack on the movie-makers part. It doesn't dwell on the bodies lying there like an episode of 'Law and Order.' The images are quick, only to show the cause and effect of the plot, not to leave a lasting impression of the massacre.

My friend insisted that he would never take his children to such a violent survival based film that is depicting children in such a harsh manner. But isn't this a version of the reality children deal with in places like the Middle East and some third world countries? Whereas, I feel that if your children ask to see it, and you tell them all the reasons why they can't, they are more likely to be rebellious and play out these sort of survival 'games' in reality, than those who have the freedom to experience the possibilities of reality through the visualisation of film. It does help if you children actually understand the difference between the possibilities that movie makers are able to create versus the reality of news footage. For me, watching the news is more harmful to their innocent eyes than a blockbuster movie.

So as The Hunger Games opened around the USA topping $155 million in a weekend - the third highest movie opening weekend ever (the highest that wasn't a sequel), you have to ask, how many parents are banning their children from seeing it? I doubt if it is many.

I'd like to hear your views on parenting and The Hunger Games. It is quite controversial... but so is life.

Day Two - Sydney!

We'll we seemed to pack it in today!

As I'm not excited about driving and parking in Sydney, we opted for public transport. Our first dilemma was to buy a multi-pass from the service station across the road. He only had concession tickets available for a daily multi-pass (so we could catch all forms of public transport, and I needed an adult ticket), so he suggested that we just get a regular bus ticket off the bus and buy a multi-pass from the city and take it from there. The bus tickets to the city were only $3.40 for the three of us! Completely shocked, as I heard how expensive Sydney public transport is. We caught the bus, and within three stops, the transit police came on to check our tickets. We were fine because we had purchased it off the bus driver, but there were a few others who needed fines and they kept the transit police on until our final stop. The bus driver was nice enough to tell the transit police about our circumstances, so we stepped off the bus and had a chat with the transit police about where to buy a multi-pass. They asked me where we planned to go, and gave us complementary tickets for the rest of our day!!! How nice was that?!

We took a bus outside Hyde Park to Bondi Beach. I explained to the boys before we got there, that Bondi Beach was about ten times the size of our little Half Moon Bay, but with surf waves instead of bay ripples. They were definitely impressed! They wanted to jump in the surf waves, but as it was our first destination for the day, I really didn't want them getting wet and wanting to go back to the hotel straight away, but re-assured them that we could take advantage of the surf beaches on the northern shores tomorrow. They waded in the water, saw the two swimming pools either side of the beach (which is an oddity for Melbournians!), the surf-life savers, the surfers and just everyone enjoying the sunshine.

After a brunch of pancakes with marscapone, blueberries, banana & maple syrup, and some banana and blueberry bread with walnut butter, we headed to Paddington to their famous Saturday morning markets in the school grounds. It was a gorgeous setting, and we were on a mission to buy some 'Sydney' T-shirts for the boys, as I accidentally didn't pack enough T-shirts for them. But the markets were a little girlie... women's fashions, jewellery, some gourmet delights (which we really didn't need after our brunch), arts & crafts, buskers, decorative make-up bags, handbags, etc. It just wasn't what we wanted.

So we caught the 380 bus back to the city, all the way to Circular Quay. I already had a grumbly child saying his legs were tired... but we kept going. When they saw the ferries and the Sydney Harbour Bridge beyond, they were happy with our destination. We walked passed Wharf 2 and found a Jet-boating kiosk. We asked if they had an age limit, but the size limit was 120cm, which the boys lived up to, and as it was something we hadn't done before, and being on a boat really is the best way to see Sydney, I splurged on some tickets for the 1pm ride. 

While we waited, we found the absolutely beautiful architecture of the Sydney Opera House. I just didn't imagine it was so big up close! (sorry about the sun glare!)

We went on our jet-boat ride and it was fabulous! I couldn't wipe the grins off the boys faces. We did 270degree spins and got completely soaked, despite our oversized raincoats they insisted that we wore. We rode up to the heads of Sydney, saw the beautiful yachts sailing, kayakers paddling and all the luxury homes on the harbour edge. Unfortunately, because we had such a soaking, not 'electronic devices' were allowed on the boat... so no photos to show :(

Except our boat!

We then walked up to Pitt Street and tried out a Pie Face pie & sausage roll (Pie Face in a Sydney company that's just opened up in New York and was featured on Letterman a few weeks back!) Excellent pies if I may say so... really chunky beef in them! 

We walked along Pitt Street Mall until we reached the monorail and decided to have another iconic Sydney ride. We checked out the 6 floors of Myer to search for Skylander & Trashies toys. And then the boys wanted to check out the Queen Victoria Building, which we did, but were beyond tired and wanted to go home.

Even though we really had no idea where we were, we actually found the right bus stop to get back to our hotel. Our freebie bus tickets had enough credit on them to get us back...

After a shower, we're now ready to go out for dinner at the Crocodile Farm Hotel - apparently it's a cross between boutique pub grub and Australian cuisine... when in Rome, do as the Romans do!

An Impromptu 12 Hour Trip to Sydney

After a strenuous 12 months culminating in possibly the worst month ever, humbly reducing my dignity to moving back to Mum & Dad's house, having absolutely no money, no house and no car and needing to justify my existence and create a new future... I've started to rebuild what I've lost and celebrate my new sense of freedom with a road trip from Melbourne to Sydney.

It's the first real road trip I've done with my boys in Australia. We've done plenty in the US, but nothing really to see our own backyard. We left at 4am to beat the peak hour traffic and used our trusty GPS to get us to our end destination. A friend, who does the trek regularly, suggested that if we didn't stop, it should take us 10 hours 40 minutes, but with stops closer to 12 hours 30 minutes. I thought, with bathroom stops, food stops, power nap stops and scenery opportunities, as well as the weekly deluge that had hit the north-east of Victoria & south-east of New South Wales that caused torrential flooding over the past 10 days, we thought we might be more like 13-14 hours...

After navigating our way through Melbourne to avoid tollways and hitting every red stop sign possible, we found ourselves on the Hume Highway in the dark taking on the 110 kilometre per hour speed limit. First stop at 6am was a Roadhouse in Nagambie for breakfast. I sort of promised the boys McDonalds hotcakes for breakfast, but the traditional roadhouse was a little more appealing on an Aussie road trip than American junk (must admit, don't mind the hotcakes normally). So after a much needed loo break, I grabbed an egg & bacon roll, my 8 year old grabbed an Aussie meat pie and tomato sauce, and my 10 year old indulged in a toasted cheese sandwich. Nick (the 8 year old) wanted to be anonymous in this shot, leaving only his half eaten meat pie in shot!!)

We smiled at the iconic signs within the roadhouse - a few truckies having a chin-wag in the corner, the local country hospitality and the not-so-trusty and obsolete Telecom pay-phone with an 'out-of-order' sign on it, but with a pinboard above it displaying all the necessary local phone numbers for taxi services, accommodation and some token business cards.

Back in the car and we listened to some local country radio. There was an ad for the 'Bended Elbow Hotel' which just made me laugh. Our pubs (bars) really do take the mickey out of themselves! But after a few radio laughs, breakfast made me tired... so 40 minutes later  I pulled over for a power nap. Told the boys I'm be down for the count for 30 minutes, but it was more like an hour before I felt right to go again... but did I go!!! We drove for 2.5 hours, crossed the Vic/New South Wales border to find that New South Wales roads just aren't as good as Victorian roads (a little bit of interstate rivalry!) and the New South Welshman are highly unoriginal! After the good old Murray, the next body of water was called 'Seven Mile Creek,' the next 'Eight Mile Creek,' then there was 'Four Mile Creek,' and 'Five Mile Creek' with a second 'Five Mile Creek a couple of hundred kilometres down the road! What the? But then Kurtis, my 10 year old, laughed at all the aboriginal names for towns we came across - Tumbarumba, Howlong (How long before we get to 'Howlong?'), Oolong (How long before we get to 'Oolong?'), Gundagai... why couldn't the creeks have some cool Aboriginal names?)

We stopped in Holbrook to fuel up the car, have a 'piss' stop and be conned by two primary schoolers into a bar of chocolate each around 10.30am, before finding this gorgeous little farm style cafe in Bowning. We were greeted by this rambling timber cabin with corrugated iron doors on the toilets creating the traditional Aussie outhouse feel (with a contemporary twist) and some delightful farm animals wanting a pat...

We sat outside, and the boys chose chicken nuggets & chips washed down with a chocolate milkshake, and I indulged in a devonshire tea, as they said they were 'world famous' for it. We sat under the verandah, with its brick paved floor, and corrugated iron roof with drill holes in it making it no-so-water proof, but delightfully quaint all the same. The boys said they LOVED this place (Rollinin Cafe in Bowning, I think). It even had a paddock of emus next to the car park!

One thing that's a big difference from a US road trip to an Aussie road trip, is the distinct lack of advertising billboards that kill the US scenery. Our undulating hills were lush green and occasionally we'd see a flooded plain as we approached Sydney, but otherwise the roads were easy to drive on, they definitely weren't dominated by trucks, however the truckers we do have are impatient, discourteous (they never use their hazard lights when they are going slowly up a hill) and can be quite dangerous compared with our US comrades. Our road works slow us down to 40 kilometres per hour which feels like a crawl compared with the 110kmh we were accustomed to, but otherwise it was a great trip with no towns to stop us in our tracks... 

...until we hit Holbrook. A quaint Aussie historic town that the Hume just has to go through.

We eventually made it to Sydney, but to avoid another tollway, I took a wrong turn, making our journey an extra 40 minutes long. We eventually arrived 12 hours and 28 minutes after we left Melbourne... which wasn't a bad trek, considering we had three stops, an hour's sleep and a wrong turn.

Now it's what do we plan for tomorrow :)

The Older We Get, The Crazier We Get

Had an interesting dinner with a few old timers tonight. The age ranged from about 88 down to 8 years old with the majority on the table in the top heavy age group. It was a funny and a little scary insight into how truly many in their golden years are stuck in their ways, but also interesting to see the contradictions in their lives.

Firstly, I'd like to set the scenario. A group of 'seniors' go out to their regular Monday night dinner - same place, same time, same day... every week. Sometimes there are a few ring ins, like myself, other times it's the stock standard crew. A couple of weeks ago, the management to their favourite establishment changed. The staff changed, the menu changed. It was almost catastrophic! They actually changed venues for a week. There are a few very quiet souls amongst the crew, there are a couple of jovial ones and a few complainers. Most these people declare that in their winter years of their lives, they want to enjoy their friends and family for who they are, the fun times they have, the laughter and their happy stories... but when put in a situation like this, their true colours come out... their self-declared positive vibe turns into the world attacking them because they didn't get what they want when they wanted, and a self-controlled tantrum takes place.

I must admit, the older they get, the funnier they are. The octogenarians seem to laugh about anything and don't take things too seriously. They turn their hearing aids up when they want to know something, and love the peaceful silence with their hearing aids down when they don't want to know. They forget the  hardships of the previous day, a previous year or a previous decade and laugh at the ordinary being extraordinary.  But they know what they like, get a touch annoyed if they don't get it the way they like it, but take it anyway begrudgingly and decide that it's not that bad after all. Their sixty and seventy year old cousins seem to want to take a little more control, because they haven't come to terms with the idea that they are entering that time of their lives where senility or dementia sets in. They take things a little too seriously, wanting to maintain their sense of control, order and rigid familiarity to appease the older ones (well that's what they think!). Then there are the ring ins like me and the younger generation - we go there to have a meal, have a casual chat with people we've heard about but don't know much about, and happy that we're fed and eager to go home.

Last week, they enjoyed the new menu, the staff were friendly and serving the food within a reasonable time frame and they were in high spirits. This week, the food was too slow, it came out in the wrong order, we were too close to the window so those next to it were catching a chill and then there's the penny pitching at the till. The complaints were endless around the table, mainly by a chosen few, but even after the food was served and the bill was being paid, they simply couldn't let go, making the night a very uncomfortable night for those attending and surrounding us.

Look I know that those in their retirement years don't have an idea when they will depart this fair land and go to heaven, so they hold onto a dollar as long as they can to make sure that it's not frittered away. But their doddering ways are as changeable as flipping a coin, even though they will take a stance and say 'the older we get, the more we don't want to change'.

I sat back and smiled through the whole ordeal and eventually said, "What's the point of letting it get to you?" The grudge will last a whole week until they go back again to the same familiarity, the same new staff, the same new menu and possibly a different table away from the window, and who knows, they might just like it, next time!

Can a man really satisfy a woman?

Now, I'm going to get a little R rated here, so make sure the kids aren't around when you're reading this!

I pose you a thought... How absolutely mind-blowing are your orgasms? They say that women's orgasms have the potential to be ten times the power of a male orgasm, but with all the sexual play you have with your mate, are you thinking that they are about on par with what they are having or even worse, not really getting there at all.

So how is it possible? Think about all those documentaries your saw in school about animals 'doing it.' How a female dog, horse or cow somehow latches onto her male impregnator and won't let him go until the deed is done. We are all mammals, so is it possible for a woman to 'latch on' to her mate's appendage in the throes of passion to have the ultimate orgasm?

My answer to that is 'yes.' He has to be hard enough, succumb to all your wetness, be able to bounce off your cervix with the tip of his penis, be able to connect his body with your clit to rub it in just the right way, and ka-pow! You are having an orgasm that is so powerful, so intense that he is stuck inside you feeling the quivers of your intense orgasm as you've latched on, enticing him to cum with the uncontrollable contractions of your vagina. After all, it's nature... it's the way it's supposed to be done.

I've had chats with friends about this, as they like to get into the intimate details of it all and because I'm fairly open about these things...  how exactly can you make it happen? It really is all about having the connection... a mind and spiritual connection that transfers to ALL your sensual spots. Your breasts, your skin, your lips, your neck, your toes, your clit, your vagina and even your anus. It's learning about each other in ways that you are truly open and honest with each other about how his touch feels and how well you show him how he can improve. But the problem there is that there is a high percentage of women who haven't explored their bodies well enough to know exactly what turns them on. We essentially have 4 erogenous zones in our genital area that can take us to the moon and back - our G spot, our clit, the edge of our cervix & our anus. If you have all of these areas stimulated at once, you could have the most mind-blowing orgasm from your clit, your vagina and your anus all at once (mind you, it's not really lady-like having an anal orgasm, as the contractions of your anus as you orgasm tend to make you fart!). And if you can get stimulated at the depths of your breasts, with everything else rocking your world, you will never go back. They are incredible.

So, how do you get your man to not fumble his way into 'thinking' he's turning you on? I guess the only way is if we truly know what we want and how we want it. Unfortunately, most men are truly selfish lovers. They get turned on by your jiggling breasts and are more interested in maintaining a hard-on than pleasuring you. Really, why do us girls put up with that? I'd rather go to bed with a toy than a man who doesn't know what he's doing. At least I know what I'm doing.

So I guess girls, it's up to us AGAIN!! We need to know what truly makes us tick, because if we don't, how can we expect a man to know?

All The Things I Love....

I've just registered for an invite to participate in www.pinterest.com - a website that feeds off Facebook and Twitter that allows you to create a pinboard of all the things you love. And it made me think....

With all the hardships I've gone through over the past 12-18 months and all the things I've been able to rise and shine above, I guess it's a cathartic process, a much needed process just to define the things that I love.

First and foremost, are my boys.

They are great friends who have a love/hate relationship (as all siblings do), especially now that they are confined to a shared bedroom and no space for themselves. I'm am truly blessed with their compassion and love, their silliness and fun, but most of all, that they are there for me.

I love to write... there is no doubt. It feeds my soul, it makes me feel I have a voice, it inspires me to try new things and embrace the world. It's an outlet for my happiness, my sorrow, my confusion, my humour and my understanding of the world. 

I do love my family... but that too has its moments of love/hate. I do find that I am constricted to their expectations, their values and desires, and what I want from my family they aren't prepared to give. No doubt, over the last couple of weeks, they have been more than supportive, the way I wished and hoped they would have been while I was going through the torturous demise of my marriage ending. But the rules change when you lose your sense of power over your own life and give it back to them, just for the interim. Even though I need them the most I've ever needed them right now, I still also value my freedom.

I love a man who can't give me everything I need from him. He's the only person who literally lifts my spirits each time I communicate with him, he's the only person who actually accepts me for me and doesn't try to change me or have other expectations for me. He nurtures me, guides me, teaches me and makes me feel loved, if only in the time we interact. 

I love to travel... it's what makes me feel human, makes me feel at my happiest. It makes me look outside of my world into the homes and hearts of others and appreciate the smaller things in life that make such a difference to others. At the moment, as I've been denied from authorities to travel to one of the countries that I feel most inspired in, it really has crushed my soul. However, I am looking into new ways of being able to fulfil my dream.

I love provincial style homes - homes with antiques, with distressed furniture, homes that look lived in, not a display home for cleanliness. Homes where you can flop on a couch, put your feet up on the coffee table, smell the aroma of home baked goods, a wide verandah to sit on and enjoy a wine with friends or indulge in a book and enjoy a different view of the cottage gardens, the hills beyond or the ocean nearby from inside. I love the rambling look of a home, a roasting fireplace for winter, and a lush meandering garden in summer. 

I love the water... if it's a bath, a swim in the sea, snorkelling in tropical waters, a soothing pond or even a cool drink of H2O. Water is peaceful, enlightening, cooling, calming... 

I love to read - it's an escape into other people's lives, the world that we live in and an observation into the choices we make.

I love music - another escape that defines our emotions, it pinpoints our memories from when you first heard a song and it's something that allows you to connect with another through romantically, emotionally and physically.

I love my friends... I have a handful of friends who have entered my life over the last couple of years who I would be lost without. I have friends from my high school days who are always there in the background and I cherish so deeply. These are the people who understand me most, give me grief when I'm not thinking straight, but are always there for a chat, a hug, a laugh or a shoulder to cry on when I need them. 

But most of all... I love me. I have to. No one will love me as much as I do. I need to understand it more. Make choices about what's most important to me, what's going to be beneficial to me, what's going to make me better as a person and as a writer and understand my boundaries more. I know I need to release the pressure I put myself under and I know I am my worst enemy. But we all are... I blame myself too much for the situations I put myself in and forget that they are life lessons that need to be experienced for me to grow. 

Over the last couple of weeks, I've put a lot of heart and soul into thinking about what is most important to me... and I am going to do my very best to make it happen. If I don't, I know there will be regret. And I can't live a day in my life where I regret not doing something that wants to blossom inside me.

For all my loyal readers, make a list of all the things in your life that you love and make you complete. It makes you feel real again...