Jem Publishing

… Not to be confused with my AC/DC life which really only applies when I have had too much to drink …

No need to elaborate.

two lives

Twice this afternoon, in the space of about half an hour, I removed one of the dog’s bones from the sofa. Nice. In my ‘BC’ days (that’s Before Child) finding a dog bone inside the house would have kinda grossed me out. Also, I would have wondered how it got there … Hubby wouldn’t have put it there and Toby the Wonderdog is not in the habit of bringing them inside.

Now, it’s barely a surprise. I am well aware of how it got there, I just shrug and chuck it back outside. But it got me thinking about how much, not only my life, but my attitudes, expectations and habits have change since Small Child arrived on the scene.

The thought hounded me as I vaccuumed the floor … with said Child in tow. A momentary aside: Child is obsessed with anything that goes around – washing machine, clothes dryer, fans – and of course we have a cyclonlic vaccuum cleaner. Hence, I have a shadow whenever I vaccuum.

Where was I? Oh right, vaccuuming the floor and thinking about the things that would have bothered me before this small person with a loud voice and penchant for repeating phrases came to live with us.

While I won’t say I was obsessive about the state of the house (probably far from it), I did have my routine and that suited me just fine. Before Small Child came along, spills on the carpet would piss me off; the dog was inside and awful lot for an “outside” dog; the house was always “reasonably” neat and tidy; I had always showered by bedtime.

Now, spills are a part of everyday life, and I’ll get to them when I fricken get there, okay? Not long ago, Hubby up-ended a big bowl of spaghetti bolognaise all over the carpet … all we could to was look at each other and laugh our heads off.

And then clean it up, obviously. We’re not pigs, you know.

Poor old Toby the Wonderdog (is there anything you can’t do? Running, jumping, making us laugh. Toby we love you!) doesn’t spend nearly as much time inside the house as he used to. The poor little hound gets terrorised. He’s chased around and has things thrown at him. It’s just easier to keep him outside, and he’d rather that too. It’s too loud inside!!

Nowadays, when I clean the house, I’m really happy when it’s still that way 20 minutes later. When that happens, I’m amazed!! I get the last job done, think to myself: “Yep, time for a coffee”. Turn around twice and it looks like Chechnya all over again. “Think I might make that an Irish Coffee.”

Some of the biggest changes can be seen in my expectations. BC, I’d be going on a major holiday twice a year. Now, I’d be thrilled if I could get a hour to go soak in the bath.

But don’t get me wrong, it’s not all bad. In fact, I wouldn’t change anything for the world. I like my life AC much better than BC. There’s still stress, but it’s not lose-your-job type of stress – coz Child’s hardly going to sack me, is he?

Is he?

There’s less freedom (financially and socially), but there’s also more freedom in an emotional and psychological sense. It is now perfectly okay for me to jump around and dance around like a dag to The Wiggles.  Childless, it would be frowned upon, now it’s a given.

And that in itself is worth a lifetime of loud, crazy days, food spills and banana rubbed into the carpet. Nice.

Life ain’t nothin’ but a funny kinda riddle …

Ever felt totally out of place?? Waaaayyy out of your depth, your comfort zone??

I do. Most days in fact. That is not a joke.

So the other day this country chick from Hicksville (alright, a slight exaggeration, regional Tasmania is hardly Hicksville … whatever) flew to the thriving, bustling, busy metropolis that is Melbourne.

I stayed for two days. It was a big two days.

This was no junket, I was there for a reason – to see and spend some time with the one and only Craig Anthony Harper (top Australian motivational speaker, author, health and fitness expert, life-renovation guru, asker of rather confronting questions and all-round good guy). We are working on his latest book – it’s all very exciting.

Over the two days I ran the gamut of emotions: nervousness, fear, amazement, surprise, embarrassment (that was a lot), envy, shock, optimism, apprehension, despair and irritation.

To name but a few.

But mostly, I felt like a total fish out of water. I didn’t belong there. I was awkward and clumsy, very uncool and totally self-conscious.

I realise all these emotions were totally of my own making. Except for a couple of key moments (for my own good), no-one tried to make me feel uncomfortable … I just was. 

But I learnt a lot. About myself, about others, about Craig and his team. Some things I already knew, but they were really hammered home over the two days. Here’s a snapshot.

1. I have some graphic design ability – there seemed to be a resounding positive response to my designs.

2. I have compliment-acceptance issues. There were some positive comments which I felt were said with great honesty and sincerity and I was surprised to find it confusing. In my head, I found myself justifying or qualifying (watering down) those comments.

3. Good people will bring you up, not tear you down. And postivity is contageous.

4. It’s much easier to cop criticism if it’s said in a respectful, helpful, focused way (and it was). Just put on your big-girl pants and suck it up.

5. My short-hair may be a contributer to my not feeling very feminine. Kind of a weird conversation, that one! Suffice to say: tough shit, I’m not growing it.

6. I am socially disabled! Nuf said.

7. I’m a big scaredy-pants when it comes to taking risks.

8. Craig surrounds himself with positive, vibrant, happy, interested, interesting, fun people.

9. I don’t really know what I want in my life.

10.  I am slightly distressed at the sight of Craig weight-training. It’s kind of scary. And funny. But scary.

11.  My body is probably not in as bad shape as I think.

12.  Don’t tell Melbourneans how good the property prices are in Tassie, they’ll want to buy up.

In all honesty, I had a great couple of days. It was confronting and uncomfortable, but it was also pleasantly surprising and enjoyable. Johnny and the rest of the team were very welcoming and if I wasn’t so busy feeling so incredibly nervous, I would have felt right at home.

Bugger! I have some things to work on (apart from the book) …

THE other day it occured to me that there are some distinct similarities between people and iPods. And I am just like my iPod.

What the?

I know, just go with me on this one.

I don’t mean small, metallic and blue. Well, maybe small. But not metallic and blue. What I mean is this little 21st century entertainment device symbolises so much more than a lump of metal that stores and plays music and video.

It’s a metphor for a life journey

A brand new iPod is protected from outside influences by its packaging and wrapping. It has all the required parts of a fully-functioning iPod, but it is yet to receive the information that will make it work. It’s pristine. It’s perfect. Not a mark on it.

When removed from its packaging, it is exposed to the influences which will shape its music library. Its owner’s tastes and preferences are hammered into it and it probably plays the same music over and over again.

But its library can be wiped clean. An iPod, just like a person, can have a fresh slate. A new sound. A fresh outlook. A new attitude. More reggae. Less hip-hop. Or vice-versa.

People can change as quickly as music tastes change and their whole history can be wiped clean for a fresh start. As with an iPod, a person’s history is not their future.

What’s your soundtrack?

The “music”  inside me (my talents, skills, passions, dreams) are as varied as the music in my iPod. Now it’s just a case of giving them all some airtime.

What music will I choose today?

* I have absolutely no connection to Apple, iPod or iTunes …

I donated blood the other day, for the first time ever. I’m ashamed to say, at 29 years of age, I had never given blood before. I had often thought it was something I should do, it’s an easy thing to do to help others and requires minimal sacrifice and time. I guess I just never got around to it.

Until the other day. Off I trundled, ’round to my local blood donation centre. I was prepared, and quite happy to have 500ml of blood taken out of my body. Half a litre.

I filled out all the forms (and weren’t there a lot!) and then Bron, my nurse, took me into the interview room to weigh me, check my blood pressure and my iron levels. All perfect (of course!).

Bron told me that the 500ml they would take from me today was about one tenth of the total amount of blood in my body.

“We have around 5-6litres of blood in our bodies, depending on how big you are. Obviously big people have more,” Bron said.

Nice one. So 500ml should be no sweat.

Bron also explained what was going to happen – needle in my arm, blood goes into the bag, some goes into a couple of vials for testing, then when I’m done just stick around for 10 mins or so, have a drink, some bikkies then on my way.

Too easy.

I ignored the bit about side effects – bruising, feeling ill, fainting, collapsed veins etc etc. I told her, with great confidence, that she would not have a problem with my veins. I am told I have great veins.

Well … it’s something to be proud of!!!

So I sit in the dentist’s chair – it was kinda like that … but with comfy arm rests – and I roll up my right-hand sleeve.

“Brilliant!” Says Bron, clearly impressed with my superior veins!

I roll up my left-hand sleeve.

“Oh wow!”

“Um, Bron, are you going to wet your pants? Told you I had good veins!”

How impressive am I?

Bron explains that most people have a “good” vein in only one arm … not many people have two “good” arms. Clearly having a choice is a novelty because Bron didn’t know which one to go for!

She settled on the right. I didn’t really care either way.

So the needle goes in and she takes the first 30ml for testing and then lets the rest run into the bag. I get a rush as I watch it run in. I was thinking that someone who really needs this is hopefully going to get better, because of what I have done today.

“You’re helping three people with this donation,” Bron tells me. Apparently, my donation gets broken down to: platelets, plasma and red cells.

In six minutes my donation is complete. How easy was that?

I’m told I can donate again in 12 weeks’ time, but if I am interested in donating plasma, I can do that every two weeks. They take the blood out of your body, run it through a machine and put your red cells back into your body … amazing! It takes a bit longer though. Bron also mentions having tests done to become a bone marrow donor.

Well, I’m thinking of signing up for all three. I felt so good about donating my blood, I want to help a much as I can.

It’s such a simple thing to do, it takes no sacrifice and very little time. But it can, and does, save people’s lives every single day.

- Em From Jem

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Thanks for visiting!

- Em From Jem