Things I nearly wrote

You fail only if you stop writing.

Ray Bradbury

It’s been about 70 days since my last post.

These are things I have been writing and deleting:

1. Changing the dream.

2. Selling out: The reality of “changing the dream”.

3. Why am I here or: Casting directors who flirt with your audition partner.

4. Anxious Sunday nights.

5. Coconut flour.

6. The death penalty.

7. Andrew and Myuran.

8. Mercy.

9. Rehabilitation.

10. Is this really the world we live in?

11. Nauru.

12. Children in detention.

13. Australia needs more lectures from the UN, please.

14. Real Australians Say Welcome.

15. Is this really the world we live in? (part two)

16. 90s Hip Hop is the greatest Hip Hop.

17. Fake it till you make it.

18. Thoughts on being a 34 year old babysitter or: $20 an hour just doesn’t cut it anymore.

19. Walking home, alone.

20. Cats.

21. Itchy feet.

22. School Assemblies.

23. To the person who tried to steal our car.

24. How many cups of tea are too many cups of tea?

25. Writers Block – The Return.

26. What is the point of this blog anyway?

27. Finish something goddamn it.

28. Hit the publish button.

29. Something is better than nothing.

30. that’s what my psychologist said when I told her I was concerned about doing enough exercise in a day, you know, sometimes you just can’t fit it all in and she said, don’t be so hard on yourself, just think something is better than nothing so even if you just a walk around the block that’s great because that’s something but now I find it hard to even fit in a little something every single day and I worry because if something is better than nothing then what is nothing … nothing is … nothing is nothing and I need to worry about that … surely …

31. Nothing

32. my grandad said nothing is at the end and he seemed OK with all that until nanna died but you can’t truly change your mind when you’re an atheist unless, you know, someone from the “other side” comes over and tells you “hey, there is something” which then completely undoes all that need for faith upon which all this is (conveniently) built and you wouldn’t believe it anyway because you’re an atheist and you can’t truly change your mind on that sort of thing, can you? Besides, we have all seen City of Angels and know the awful consequences of those sort of “visits”.

32. City of Angels.

33. Where are you, Meg Ryan?

34. I’d rather be in New York.

35. I’m doing this wrong: 30 minutes and 20 drafts to create one tweet.

36. Being quiet.

37. Anxiety.

38. Nothing. Again.

39. …

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Choosing the Greens and losing a Facebook “friend”

If we’re honest, most of us would accept that a bad boss is a little bit like a bad father or a bad husband. Not withstanding all his or her faults, you find that he tends to do more good than harm. He might be a bad boss but at least he’s employing someone while he is in fact a boss.

Tony Abbott

This election was just awful. In the strange barren wasteland of meaningless slogans and bigotry, with tumble-weeds of sexism to break the monotony, the only glimmer of hope was the Australian Greens. The Greens were the only party with a positive message, a vision and sense of compassion and humanity. If I value these attributes in a human being surely it is not too much to ask for them in a political party? Instead, we watched the two major parties battle it out to see who could treat some of the most vulnerable people in the world with the most cruelty … and win votes for it. So it was with pride and relief that I celebrated Adam Bandt’s retention of his seat in the House of Representatives. The fact that Adam Bandt is my member of parliament, the person who represents the place I live, made me so grateful I took to Facebook with my joy (as you do).

“Very thankful for Adam Bandt right now” I wrote. (24 likes – thank you friends)

Short, to the point and positive. I didn’t want to get bogged down with name-calling. But I could have. I didn’t want to be negative. But I could have. What I didn’t expect was someone whom I hardly know to respond to my harmless status update with name-calling and negativity.

I was surprised. The last time I had seen this “Facebook friend” was in an embarrassing moment in a supermarket when he thought I was someone else. Really. He knew my name and felt he could shout it out to get my attention, which he did, and then proceed to tell me all the amazing things I had been doing. Problem was they were not my amazing things; they were a mutual friend’s amazing things. “I’m not her” I had to tell him, almost apologetically. I had felt bad for him but I barely knew him and that incident simply cemented the fact. He was a friend of a friend whom I’d met once. Based on this fleeting moment he had decided to request me as a friend on Facebook and, based on my naivety, I accepted.

I won’t be doing that again.

I think there has to be some sort of criteria for Facebook friendship. Maybe it could look like this … You can be my Facebook friend if;

1. We have met more than once, or

2. We have spent more than 2 minutes chatting and conversation included more than just ‘hello’ and ‘how do you know **insert mutual friend’s name here**?’ or

3. You know who I am if I happen to bump into you in the real world (e.g. the supermarket) or

4. We would actually be friends in real life (I like to think that even though Leonardo DiCaprio doesn’t meet criteria 1 through to 3 he would definitely meet number 4)

This Facebook friend did not meet any of the above criteria, so you can imagine my surprise when he felt he had the right to write the following –

Fuck the Greens. Should be renamed Weeds!

Hmmmm …OK …  I wondered why on earth he would say such I thing. Again, my naivety got the better of me. Here was his reason:

Because they sided with Labor last time to have influence and fucked the country. They are anything but the organic organisation they claim to be.

There were many, many holes in this argument … The truth is this man was simply spouting the slogans of the campaign and right-wing shock-jocks. There was neither evidence nor truth to what he was saying. There was also no need for him to say it. The election had been called and Tony Abbott’s Liberal Party had won … Why did I need to hear this rubbish (all of which had been all over the Murdoch press) again? Why did it need to be written on my wall? Why couldn’t I just have my moment of happiness for Adam Bandt?

So, I explained why I voted for the Greens …

I really don’t appreciate the hijacking of my positive status for this Andrew-Bolt-esque rhetoric … I am proud to support a party which has vision, compassion and a strong sense of social justice. I am proud to support a party which holds big polluters and mining companies accountable. I am proud to support a party which believes in climate change and the importance of renewable energy. I am proud to support a party which believes in marriage equality and quality education for all and the rights asylum seekers. I am very proud to be represented by Adam Bandt … Thankfully we live in a country which really isn’t all that ‘fucked’ (despite what you think the Greens have done to it) so you are more than entitled to voice your opinion – I simply ask that you are respectful of mine and refrain from posting this rubbish on my wall.

(4 likes – thank you very much)

In return I got this:

What you call hijacking I call the right to post an opinion in an open forum Katy. If you want an open meadow where everyone eats grass contentedly with your opinion then do one of two things … a/ don’t post or b/ expect opposition. You have undoubtedly been drawn along on a quasi organic wave that posits so-called “equality” regarding climate change and education and human rights but in the real wash-up is a just a soapy Labor puppet. Don’t rubbish my ‘opinion’ unless you have more than rhetoric from a campaign brochure.

(for the record, the above got ZERO likes)

That was then I decided this Facebook relationship was OVER.

Done.

I didn’t feel the need to explain to this man that:

  • I read about every political party which was running for a seat in the upper and lower houses (this includes the minor, minor parties like ‘Bullet Train for Australia’ and ‘Stable Population’ to name but two)
  • I made a very informed decision about supporting the Greens based on my reading of their policies and comparison with the policies of the Liberal and Labor Parties
  • I actually have a real interest in politics which goes far beyond ‘campaign brochures’
  • I enrolled to vote before I turned 18 because I was actually that excited
  • there is no “so-called equality” in the Greens’ policies … It simply is Equality
  • the Greens do not pretend to be an organic party – they are a political party so of course there is hierarchy and procedure … That is part of being a political organisation
  • nothing in my post was actually taken from the Greens’ ‘campaign brochure’ (but your rantings were clearly lifted from the Murdoch press)
  • I don’t think everyone should eat grass but if people want to eat grass and stand in meadows then power to them
  • I don’t know what an organic wave is, quasi or otherwise, but I am very confident I have never been ‘drawn along’ one
  • Facebook is not an open forum … I choose who I am friends with and who can see my posts and who can post to my wall and so on
  • I don’t need to prove myself nor my understanding of Australian politics to you … but I do need to write about it on my blog …

As I thought about my reply I suddenly realised; I don’t have to enter into this. I don’t have to waste time and energy on this man I hardly know … Why would I? So I didn’t. I de-friended and, moments later, got this private message:

You’re better than that. Counter my argument or reliant but don’t be pathetic and stop the dialogue.

Charming … Why, yes, of course I will reignite the ‘dialogue’ when you ask me so nicely you charmer you. No thank you – I would prefer to be pathetic and stop the dialogue. (Besides, when he wrote ‘you are better than that’ I couldn’t help but wonder if he actually meant me or our mutual friend … She may be better than that – I have just proven I am not. Whatever that means.)

I am friends with enough Liberal Party voters (at last count I know about 4 of them … I am sure there are more, they just don’t want to admit it and I don’t blame them) to know that you cannot change someone’s political views. It is something you need to discover for yourself. You can be coaxed, sure, and encouraged, definitely, but in the end there is nothing I could write on my Facebook page to make this man turn around and apologise and understand why I voted the way I voted.

But you know what? None of my real friends who also happen to be Facebook friends who also happen to be conservatives felt the need to abuse me for my status. Maybe it was because they won. Maybe it was because they believe that there should be a range of voices in government representing a range of concerns and interests. Maybe it was because they are respectful. Maybe it was because I didn’t say anything to ‘rubbish’ their political views. Maybe it because they can see why I voted Greens because, well, they actually know me … Maybe they know they cannot change my mind just like I cannot change theirs.

I could explain how Australia is in very good economic shape, that a price on carbon is needed, that a mining tax is brilliant, that seeking asylum is a human right, that Denticare is an excellent incentive … I could go on explaining so many policies and positive changes but I know it would be for nothing. I know it would be countered with an empty slogan, a catch-phrase, a sound-bite heard on the radio …  or what they believe is best for them, or the country, or both … So I will continue to post what I believe and hope they click on the link and start to read more widely and more wisely and make up their own minds. But I will not shout and argue and name-call because that is one way not to get votes.

I will have to live with a Liberal Government for the next three years (at least) but I do not have to live with rude Facebook friends. I value positivity, vision and sense of compassion and humanity. If I value these attributes in a friend surely it is not too much to ask for them in a Facebook friend? And, for the record, even Tony Abbott on the day of the election suggested that someone, who had just laid out her concerns for the country, would be better off voting for the Greens … Just sayin’

 

Wasted day or; 10 things that matter more than Miley Cyrus’ performance at the MTV Music Video Awards

I wanted to write something about this whole Miley Cyrus thing, you know? I feel the outrage and the criticism is so unwarranted and unfair … I mean, come on, how on earth is Robin Thicke getting out of this unscathed? Anyway, I was writing and writing and reading these horribly misogynist interviews (“We tried to do everything that was taboo. Bestiality, drug injections, and everything that is completely derogatory towards women”, Thicke in an interview with GQ) and I was getting really angry and then, then I realised … I have been wasting all this time on something that, in the scheme of the things, does not really matter. Not at all.

I don’t know why I wasted a whole day reading articles and watching crappy music video-clips when I could have been looking into THINGS THAT MATTER MORE THAN MILEY CYRUS’ PERFORMANCE AT MTV’S VMA (I am shouting on the inside here).

So here it is – THINGS THAT MATTER MORE THAN MILEY CYRUS’ PERFORMANCE AT MTV’S ViDEO MUSIC AWARDS THAT I SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING AND/OR READING AND/OR LEARNING ABOUT TODAY (in no particular order):

  1. The crisis in Syria
  2. Iran’s new president – Hassan Rouhani
  3. Asylum seekers
  4. Palestine and Israel
  5. 3D Printing
  6. A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole
  7. Writing something half decent
  8. Cleaning the house
  9. Cutting my toe-nails
  10. Ummmm … just about EVERYTHING! (even the upcoming election and that is saying something)

We are so bombarded by this 24-hour news cycle that we seem to forget what is important, what is actually newsworthy, what should be taking our attention. Instead, we (and by we I also mean I) are sidetracked by unimportant things. Instead of focusing on Miley’s performance, why was the focus not on the misogynistic nature of the music industry? Or the terrible human rights violations suffered by women in many middle eastern countries?

Articles about twerking and the performance itself are in the top-5 list of ‘Most Viewed” articles in The Guardian. The. Guardian. What the hell is wrong with us? (I contributed to that I know – what the hell is wrong with me?)

I am going to work very hard at not getting too sidetracked again … And try to not feel so bad about wasting a whole day on this rubbish.

 

An unexpected cab ride; or, things I learnt from the taxi driver

NYC Cabs, New York 2008, Katy Warner

I think that anybody’s craft is fascinating. A taxi driver talking about taxi driving is going to be very, very interesting.

James Lipton

Today I had to catch a taxi. I don’t do that very often. Whenever I do I like to imagine I am Carrie Bradshaw and I am in New York with amazing shoes and the salary to afford it (the taxi and the shoes). This particularly taxi was taking me to Brunswick (which is not quite New York) because our borrowed 1988 Ford Laser refused to start (which is not quite Carrie Bradshaw’s style) to get me to a casting (which means I am not even close to being able to afford those shoes).

I love talking and I particularly love talking to taxi drivers. Sometimes it works out (I’ve had some enlightening political conversations). Sometimes it doesn’t (I’ve been asked out, rather emphatically, on a “date”). But it is always interesting.

Today I had a brilliant taxi driver who got me to Brunswick

a) on time

b) alive

and, as bonus, we had a nice chat during ridiculously expensive ride (which I didn’t feel so bad about paying due to a and b, above, but not necessarily in that order).

He told me he was trained nurse. Nursing was his passion. It was all he wanted to be. It was the job he loved most in the world. But here he was, driving a taxi because Australia would not recognise his four-year degree from a University in India nor his extensive experience. “Driving a taxi is better than nothing,” he told me. His positivity was incredible.

Along with some wonderful positive thinking, here’s what I learnt from the taxi driver today:

  1. Being called “Boss” has nothing to do with Bruce Springsteen
  2. Always speed up when approaching an amber light because “you never know which ones you will make”.
  3. Education is important (but Australia only recognises those educated in the western world) (i) Australia has a tendency to treat people from non-English speaking backgrounds in the most shameful way
  4. Taxi drivers have to deal with some of the most awful people in the world (“I think when people are drunk,” he said, “they just don’t realise what they are saying”) (i) Some people are gross when drunk (ii) Some people are gross all the time
  5. Positivity can be contagious
  6. Taxis trump public transport (i) Guaranteed seat (ii) Less likely to be coughed all over / sneezed all over / stepped on
  7. Ray-Bans are cool
  8. I am pink – like my EFTPOS Card (I’m taking that as a compliment)

I wish more people would speak to their taxi drivers. Yes, sometimes you may have to give the driver directions, yes, sometimes the driver may just be a jerk, yes, sometimes the driver may have bad-taste in music / jokes / appropriate conversation starters or a turn out to be some sort of homicidal maniac or racist / homophobic / sexist / angry, angry person … But we all know people like – besides, it always makes for great writing / blogging / dinner-partying material. Speak to your taxi driver – you never know what you might learn …

Another List; or, ways to counteract feelings of creative stagnation when faced with a regular job that sucks all your time and energy [working title]

 

The chief enemy of creativity is good sense.

Pablo Picasso

I knew this would happen.

I was meant to be working a decent, part-time (i.e. maximum three-day-a-week) job which would give me time to focus upon writing, writing, writing for the other two days plus weekends when I could (i.e. so I don’t become a friendless hermit or cat-lady, minus the cats but with the isolated-craziness thing going on – I’m not allowed pets in my apartment but that’s another story, another blog, another day) …

This is not quite happening.

My three days often magically turned into five.  Just like that!

BAM!

Now I am signed up for four days a week. Sometimes five. Then I can negotiate a day-in-lieu. So maybe some weeks I can work three. But the usual will be four. Unless there is a show on or an important meeting. Then it is definitely five. But I’m only paid for four. But a day off can be negotiated so long as it isn’t for a day off when there is a show on or an important meeting. But most days. They’re flexible. To a point.

Confused? Me too.

But …

I thought I would manage.

One of my colleagues told me it wouldn’t work – “It’s a creative process,” he said. “You need time.”

Yes. That would be nice but I’m not Jane frickin Austen (apologies to Ms Austen – I know you didn’t have a middle name and probably would not appreciate being given that one in particular)  – I don’t have the luxury of time or a handsome trust account.

I have to Pay Rent / Buy food / Live (not necessarily in that order).

So, whilst I have been outwardly dismissing my colleague’s comments as completely and utterly wrong, inwardly I am thinking he might be right. There is a lot of pressure to get writing done when you only have limited time in which to do it: pressure trumps creativity.

But …

Maybe the reverse is true also; you make more of your time when you have less of it.

Or, in my case, you just freak out at the pressure of getting something done today and the pressure manifests into self-doubt and anxiety and youtube and Not Getting Anything Done.

So, here is my “list of ways to counteract feelings of creative stagnation when faced with a regular job that sucks all your time and energy” [working title]

  • Carry a pen and a pad of paper EVERYWHERE (um, okay, maybe not everywhere – everywhere, but you know, within reason) and write whenever anything is sparked.
  • Write something everyday. Be that mysterious person in the cafeteria at work who is scribbling away in their notebook (so long as you do look mysterious and interesting rather than creepy and homicidal).  Write any length / style / form; just do it everyday. Does a shopping list count? Hell yeah. Here’s my list for today:
Lime
Bananas
Tomatoes
Pineapple

(Riveting stuff there, I know … But one day it could be gold, you never know what I have to pick up from the store – stay tuned!)

  • Keep blogging
  • READ – READ – READ – never stop reading!
  • You don’t have to finish but you have to at least make a start …
  • Prove your smart-arse colleague WRONG

Why I love being a morning person and other lies I tell myself

One must lie under certain circumstances and at all times when one can’t do anything about them.

Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

I lie to myself everyday.

I don’t think it’s such a bad thing really. I mean, of course, “Honesty is the best Policy” and “Liar-Liar-Pants-On-Fire” and all that. I know. I’m not natural liar. When I was in Grade 2 I told my classmates that I had been for a ride in a helicopter. I can’t remember the full story but it got their attention. And it was detailed. I remember I was pretty thorough in my storytelling. It was so detailed that I got anxious I wouldn’t remember the full story correctly (I was sure I’d be asked to retell it to the whole school) and be caught out as a helicopter-faker. I didn’t get caught out, probably because I never got to the retelling stage – another little girl said she and her dad met Michael Jackson (or maybe it was Michael J Fox –I can’t quite remember now), who just so happened to fly over to see them in a, yep, you guessed it, helicopter. My once-ace-now-really-lame helicopter story was topped by a far more confident liar and that was the end of my foray into extraordinary stories for my classmates. The pressure was just too much for a seven year old.

Anyway, those aren’t the sort of lies I’m talking about.

I’m also not talking about those lies which lead to complete delusion about ones talents and skills, thus resulting in awful wannabe singers auditioning for X-Factor and being genuinely shocked when they’re told they will never be the next Beyonce … No, not those sort of lies.

I’m talking about lies that can make getting through life just that little easier to manage. They are what I like to think of as the “grey-zone” of lies …

Here’s my lie list –

 1. I love getting up early.

No, I don’t.

But I do it.

And if anyone asks I will say “I am a morning person” and I can hear the little 7-year-old me whispering liar-liar … I’m not really lying. I’m not saying what sort of morning person I am, just that I am one – and I am … trying.

2. I love running.

No, I don’t.

But I do it.

Running is the most pointless thing I do. I just run. Around. And there are all these other people running around too but we can’t really make eye contact or say good-morning because we’re all out of breath or trying desperately not to look out of breath.

But I do like early morning runs (see point 1 above) when you feel like you get the chance to see the sky in a way that many others will miss for that day.

I do like the feeling during the run when you manage to get to the top of the hill without stopping or after a good sprint or when you realise you’ve managed to go further than you thought you could.

But there is plenty I don’t love about it – at times it’s a little boring and a little pointless and sometimes it’s just plain horrible. Your toes bleed and your legs ache and you get a runny nose. I try not to think about it and just go with the lie; I love running!

3. Just getting the chance to audition is wonderful.

No it isn’t.

But I say it.

Just give me the god-damn role. It’s a non-speaking, 10-second moment in a television commercial for a car. Do I really need to audition? In reality, no-one probably needs to audition for something like that. But in order to simply turn up to some of these castings you have to lie to yourself otherwise … well, you just wouldn’t do it would you?

Those people who run acting for film and TV workshops and master-classes, they all have these stories of [insert actors name here] who auditioned for something minor, didn’t get the role but did such an amazing job in the audition that the casting director got them in for [insert name of popular TV series here] and now they are this in-demand, always-working, award-winning, Hollywood-bound actor … Maybe the teachers of these classes are using the same lie that I’m using …

Anyway, this is a very useful lie for keeping sane and not getting overly disheartened when you don’t book the gig. There will always be another audition. And auditions are just wonderful experiences (see point 3).

 4. Porridge – it’s the perfect breakfast.

No it isn’t.

But I eat it pretty much every-single-day.

The perfect breakfast is ricotta hotcakes with berry compote or smashed avocado with poached eggs or coco-pops. I always thought being a grown-up meant having cupboards filled with a whole variety of breakfast cereals like Seinfeld. My cupboard has oats. It’s cheap and it’s healthy. That’s the reality of being a grown-up I suppose. So every morning I cut up a banana and put it in some decorative arrangement on top of the porridge and think about how this is, really, honestly, completely the perfect breakfast. It’s a lie that stops me buying coco-pops and that’s okay, isn’t it?

 5. Admin is just what I do to pay the bills; my real-job is acting / writing.

No it isn’t.

But I say it.

A lot.

Particularly when I’m using Excel.

I also, shamefully, use terms like “my creative practice” – I never wanted to be that person. But here I am. Saying it. Loudly. Particularly when I’m using Excel.

My admin job is my real job. I turn up 4 days a week, for 7.6 hours a day, have a work email address and phone number and desk and Outlook Express calendar that has meetings in it I have to attend and I get pay-slips and superannuation and sick-leave and accumulate holidays and all that “real job” stuff. I haven’t made money through “my creative practice” for about a year – so this makes it a hobby, right? No. That’s not the point. That’s not what it’s about. And I will continue to tell myself this lie because without it … Well … I don’t even want to imagine …

6. No. I don’t want the biscuit / slice of cake / chocolate / wonderful-sugar-filled-treat

Yes I do.

But I don’t take it.

Of course I want the sugary treat. It’s 3pm and I’ve been doing paperwork all day and the tuna salad wrap I ate at 1pm just didn’t cut it and I’ve consider the vending machine options multiple times and then – bam! There they are, standing at my desk, offering me a plate of cookies that were left over from some meeting or a slice of Mandy-From-Marketing’s birthday cake or some other incredible home-made treat drizzled in caramel and chocolate … And I lie to myself. I don’t want it. No, of course I don’t want it … The amount of cake that is served up in the office is really quite something; I need this lie.

 

 

I am hoping, I suppose, that eventually the lies will become the truth: that I will be able to say, and genuinely believe in, all those points with complete honesty. I hope to get to the same point, in a way, as those horribly untalented X-Factor contestants … but in this case use the lie for good rather than evil.

(And I did eventually go for a helicopter ride – about twenty years after the fake-helicopter tale. That’s the truth. However, my original version of the story of the helicopter ride as a 7-year-old was far more exciting …)

Things I learnt today (or; lists made whilst grieving or; reasons why everything is actually okay)

I had not intended to write about grief so much on this blog – but that is thing about grief. It is unexpected. I had not expected to lose my Grandad so soon after my Nan’s passing but we have. I don’t know how it will ever be okay but somehow it will happen: Things Will Be Okay.

In fact, if I really think about it and ignore that awful feeling in my stomach, things are okay now. They really are. I tried to think about this today.

So here’s a list (of course) of why things are truly okay …

1. I do not live in Syria … or a place that is currently in the midst of war or civil unrest

2. I can walk to the park with my own two feet and see it, smell it, hear it …

3. Coffee

4. I have a heater and a bed and a computer and a home

5. I have family and friends

6. The sun is shining (and if it wasn’t that would be okay too)

7. I can write a list

8. I work in a place where ‘compassionate leave’ not only exists but is truly implemented

9. Fountains

10. Ducks

11. Ducks swimming in fountains

12. Memories

13. The knowledge that everything will absolutely be okay …