rainbowtatt

Edit: to steal Fiona‘s idea, the pet name for this project is Going Commando For a Cause :o)

So the saga continues with Pacific Brands and their decision to sack almost 2,000 Aussies and send production work overseas while their execs still take home big bikkies in the most unstable economic situation this generation has seen.

The Media™ has mainly mentioned that Bonds and Holeproof are under the Pacific Brands umbrella. I own a LOT of Bonds and Holeproof under and outer wear and if I owned other brands of knickers I’d definitely be wearing them instead of my Bonds and Holeproof brands in support of the men and women who will soon go without a regular pay packet.

I decided to check out the Pacific Brands web site (refuse to link to them in my own personal <a href> protest) and holy crap there are so many other brands that I have to steer clear of

• Bonds
• Berlei
• Holeproof
• Antz Pants
• Hestia
• Jockey
• Rio
• Playtex
• Razzamatazz
• Voodoo

… and that’s just in the underwear section! Then there’s the outwear, sportswear, homeware and footwear sections. Sweet jeebus!

So I haven’t quite worked out how I can manage it, but I still plan to boycott Pacific Brands until someone knocks some sense into them and decide to do their bit for the Australian economy and for their Australian employees.

Who’s with me?

So if you’re so inclined, steal this pic and post it wherever you like. Take a stand for the 1,800 Aussies who are getting screwed right now.

Yes, I know businesses need to be ruthless to stay alive, but they got it wrong this time. Taking government funding, giving execs pay rises and then moving production overseas at the detriment of 1,800 workers’ livelihoods AINT NO WAY TO DO IT.

I’m getting my last wisdom tooth taken out tomorrow afternoon.

It’s impacted, so the surgeon will have to hammer it to bits before taking it out. I’m suddenly wishing I wasn’t getting it done in the chair with only local anaesthetic and my ipod to protect me.

Send cupcakes. Soft cupcakes.

Over the last couple of months, my bogan cupcake twin Leigh and I have been working on a new web site and this week it finally went live.

That’s Noice is an Aussie-centric blog full of things we think are awesome. Awesome is found in all sorts of shapes and sizes like toe socks, salad servers, hedgehogs, christmas trees and cupcakes. Especially cupcakes. Nom.

The original concept was for an Aussie cupcake-centric site, but decided we wanted to cover more than just cupcakes – becuase awesome really is found in infinite shapes and sizes.

It’s awesome in itself for me to contribute to the site — Leigh is a superwoman of the Aussie internets and I’m feeling pretty spesh that she’s let me jump in and be part of the noice-ness.

We’ve already had one giveaway on That’s Noice and we’ve got a heap of Noice ready to start sharing with you – come along and join us!

I’ve stolen this meme from Heather B. Armstrong and is the third meme I’ve done this week. I’ve set a PB! This one was labelled as ‘trivial questions about your marriage’ but I’m sure defacto’d-ness is okay by the Meme-Gods.

What are your middle names? Mine is Rose and his is Max

How long have you been together? 8 years as of this month. Nyaw!

How long did you know each other before you started dating? About 4 months or so I think. He started working on the same floor as me

Who asked whom out? I don’t really remember, but it was  probably him. Regardless, the development of the relationship was just a natural progression for us

How old are each of you? I’m turning 31 in June and he’s 4 months older than me. Gasp!

Whose siblings do you see the most? His; they live within a 10-minute drive. Mine are an hour and 3 hours’ away.

Which situation is the hardest on you as a couple? That would be me being a complete nut job. See also: ACOA

Did you go to the same school? I went to Burwood Girls’ High and Riverside Girls’ High. He lived on the North Shore

Are you from the same home town? I’m the country bumpkin, he’s the Sydney-sider

Who is smarter? Definitely not me. I learn from him every day

Who is the most sensitive? Me all the way. Can you say “cries over bad cupcakes”?

Where do you eat out most as a couple? Banks Thai!

Where is the furthest you two have traveled together as a couple? Canberra (yes, seriously). Before that it would have been Barrington Tops

Who has the craziest exes? ME. I have the Brazilian, the Ghey, the 40yo virgin and The One He’s Still Friends With

Who has the worst temper? Me. Do you see a theme here?

Who does the cooking? Not me! I try, but I’m better at cupcakes

Who is the neat-freak? I try harder to be but we both fail

Who is more stubborn? I think we take turns on this one

Who hogs the bed? My arse does

Who wakes up earlier? We take turns. It depends on the day of the week, what time we went to bed and what time the cats start making demands for refuelling

Where was your first date? I don’t think we had one. We just hung out

Who is more jealous? Me, but only when I see him add a new female on Facebook and I have to quiz him on WHO SHE IS. In reality there aren’t those insecurities in our house

How long did it take to get serious? Depends. Answers could range from “5 minutes” to “some time last week”

Who eats more? Me, I have the Kane-girl gene

Who does the laundry? I think about it more often, but it’s a fairly even distribution

Who’s better with the computer? Him. I say “Alt Control Delete” instead of “Control Alt Delete”. Enough said

Who drives when you are together? Me, but only because I’m the only driver in this relationship. Yes, we have discussed this.

I have so much to tell you (like how the internet is suddenly more awesome), but I’m exhausted, it’s way past my bedtime and I have to share this with you first:

Yes, that’s me with THE Peter Garrett. He was nearby at a function I was at tonight and popped in to say hi. Seriously! When I see you next I’ll tell you all the goss.

This was the chaos on Enmore Road this arvo:

Wouldn’t it be terrifying for people who live above shops just like this one? People who are dealing with a deteriorating exterior wall that the landlords haven’t fixed in the 18 months that they’ve been receiving complaints about said exterior wall. The wall that leaks into the loungeroom when it rains.

It must be hard for those poor sods who stand on the street to take a photo like this wondering if this is some sort of omen of what could happen to them, but with a bit more broken wall scattered all over the road.

I’ve almost reached the point where I can’t watch the news. I can’t deal with the devastation of the bushfires down in Victoria.

Grown men sobbing like babies.

KRudd all emotional

Scenes like this:

I shudder at the thought of the horror those people have been through. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

I’ve read some digusting things implying that bushfires are God’s way of showing his anger at abortion/gay marriage/etc and it leaves me speechless. If God does these things in spite of human kind, then God’s a dud, pure and simple.

This week one of my family’s life-long friends passed away.

I’ve known Rad virtually all my life; he and his wife, Maureen, ran the service station down the road from our Drive In in my home town of Grafton. My earliest memories are of popping into the servo and seeing Rad dashing out from the shop to fill up our car – wearing just a pair of thongs and white shorts.

When dad’s cancer got really bad and we gave up the Drive In, Rad and Maureen bought it as their retirement property. Even though the Drive In itself had to close, knowing that the property was in the hands of people who understood how important that place was to us was a source of comfort for me. The Drive In was the one place of my childhood that I cherished the most.

We moved to Sydney after dad died and we didn’t make very many trips back to Grafton. As the years went on, contact with Rad and Maureen was less frequent, usually no more than a Christmas card every year.

Three years ago Dan and I went on a holiday up to Coffs Harbour and we made a day trip to Grafton to see the town I hadn’t seen in over 15 years. By no deliberate planning of ours, we ended up being in Grafton on the 20th anniversary of dad’s death.

That day, we spent the afternoon at the Drive In with Rad and Maureen. We saw how they honoured the Drive In while converting the main building into their home. The waves of concrete and gravel covered up with grass and dirt; the cement footings from where the screen used to be still visible amongst the bushes. The projection room still with its tilted window facing out to where the screen used to be. They showed us a folder of dad’s newspaper clippings and paperwork that we’d left behind when we moved away, still in their original folder and stored away safely all these years.

For me, that day was the beginning of what has since been a renewal for me. Of remembering who I am, where I’ve come from and most importantly, remembering my dad as the passionate person he was. Dad died a month after my 8th birthday and most of my memories of him are tainted by what the cancer had turned him into.

Before we left the Drive In that day, Rad showed us his collection of woodwork. Of bowls and plates and wine holders he’d made with old trees and fence pailings from the property. He let me take home this clock, made from a cross-section of jacaranda tree that had grown on the grounds of the Drive In, the place that I love the most.

So when mum rang to tell me that Rad died, first thing I did was stand in the kitchen and look at our clock. The clock that represents so much of my past and what matters most to me. I cried for what my family had lost, for another lost connection to dad.

And I remembered how lucky my family was to have someone like Rad. He was one in a million.