My Crazy  

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If my mind was a pub counter meal, my crazy would be the limp little salad, not the huge hunk of schnitzel…

 

 

When I was about 7 or 8, I remember a morning before school where something was going on at home.  I don’t recall the problem, or the words exchanged between my parents but I do remember the feeling of being marched to the front door and sent to school with a swift smack on the bum.

 

 

Perhaps my upset state activated my imagination, but this was also the morning I was followed to school.  In hindsight, the old man who was smiling at me, driving too close to the curb for too long, could’ve been searching for friend’s place but at that time, in my little burdened mind, he was chasing me and so I ran all the way to school arriving late, wet and completely exhausted.

 

 

Looking back, I isolate that experience as one that instigated my struggle with anxiety.  I’m not aware of the medical diagnoses for anxiety or paranoia but I do have my own definition and I know exactly what it feels like.

 

 

 

It is the belief that something bad will inevitably happen and trusting my gut, is not enough.

 

It is the idea that sharing my inner thoughts will leave me open to critique, ridicule. 

 

It is the notion that people don’t really want the best for me, they don’t really care.

 

It is the angst I feel, when in my heart of hearts, I love those close to me with everything I can muster, but I keep them at a comfortable distance, just in case.

 

A working example:

Today I sent my son to vacation care – a trip to the movies.  My mind raced ahead and I made Mr Robo take a photograph of him in his tracksuit, just in case.

 

And another:

I’m on the train right now and although the woman next to me is looking out the window to her left, I’m convinced she’s sneaking glances at my screen, to her right. I’ve contorted my body to the point of discomfort, just in case.

 

 

The negativity that plagues my mind at times, is excruciating.  It’s irrational, unjustified.

But with my kind of crazy, I have, thankfully, developed a heightened awareness.  I know my absurdities and I am aware that they are groundless. I just need some time, to remember that everything will be OK.

 

 

So this is why my blog remains anonymous.

My blog is my space.

I don’t blog often.  But if I feel like sharing, it is unmeasured, unrestrained.

 

But I wonder, is sharing nameless and faceless actually sharing?

 

 

Is your blog anonymous?  Were you apprehensive about revealing your identity?

Let me know of any cool anon blogs you might’ve come across.

 

 

Love,

Robo X


The Confluence

Welcome to The Lounge – link-up your special words below.

 

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Last Friday night, I settled in for some serious lesson planning – year 9 poetry.

 

I stressed over the perils of engaging twenty-five disinterested teens with Donne, Owen and Frost.  I pictured their bored little faces.  I visualised myself, jaded, cynical.

There was substance abuse.

 

When I was popping my own pimples, it was to the likes of Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins.  I read books as a kid.

I liked words.

 

 

 

Teens these days?  I don’t know…

 

It’s as though they’re on an intravenous drip, administered hourly doses of such watered-down, utter shit.

Non-specific, one-size-fits-all, shit.

Leave your brain at the door, don’t think, just follow, shit.

 

 

They don’t even know what it is they like because they are never left alone.

To just be.  To immerse themselves.  In words alone.

 

 

It’s concerning.

So I’m shaking up poetry.

To make more meaning.  To stay relevant.

 

 

 

 

On my quest, this is who I found last Friday night.

Luka Lesson.

If you can find two minutes and twenty seconds of alone time, I suggest you press play.

 

 

 

It’s satisfying when something stays with you long after it’s ended.

 

Love,

Robo X


Excuse me, does my clothing offend you?  

So this week, teachers who are employed by the NSW DEC, received a rather interesting email.

A new dress code comes into play at the start of term 2.

 

 

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 This is not me…  Source.

 

In short, we have an obligation to do the following:

 

  • maintain respect
  • establish credibility
  • uphold the reputation of the Department

 

I DO THIS EVERY SINGLE DAY.

 

 

The dress code goes on to say that we must be clean and tidy.  We must also wear professional attire at any formal engagements such as meetings with parents and at assemblies etc.

 

I KNOW THIS.  I DO THIS EVERY OTHER DAY…

 

 

 

This is the part that’s annoyed me…

 

“Employees must not wear revealing clothes such as those exposing bare midriffs, strapless tops or dresses, or clothes that may be construed as suggestive and/or offensive.

Employees must not wear inappropriate clothes such as singlets, t-shirts, tracksuits or rubber thongs (except for sport and organised physical activities), ripped or dirty clothes, or clothes with inappropriate slogans (e.g. advertising for tobacco and alcohol).”

 

Oh, and men must wear collared shirts.

 

 

Good people of the world, I haven’t exposed my midriff since the mid-nineties, believe me.  But I do wear singlet tops and t-shirts to work and I make no attempt to be revealing or inappropriate.

 

My general school style is a nice cotton t-shirt and a pair of pants.  Sometimes a skirt with a sleeveless tank top.  At times, a singlet top (never spaghetti straps), with a pair of jeans.  I shop at places like Sussan for work, just to further illustrate my point.

 

 

Am I missing something?  Since when is a singlet top ‘revealing’, or a t-shirt ‘inappropriate’?

Would you be offended if I wore something like what I’ve described to a parent/teacher meeting?

Do you think that this type of clothing would make your child think that I’m an unprofessional teacher when I stand up in front of their class?

 

 

Unreasonable?  Your thoughts as always, are welcome.

 

 

Love,

Robo X

 

P.S.  Us Teachers are, on the whole, a pretty jovial bunch.  I’m looking forward to seeing some of the takes on ‘appropriateness’ next term…


Not So Freaky After All.

Welcome to The Lounge for another week.

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This one’s been busy.

 

 

Between weekend birthday parties, work, sick kids and a sick mama, (me), I didn’t get time to write the freaky post that I had in mind.

No time. None.

 

 

Lack of time seems to be the emerging theme of 2014.  My blog posts are few and very far between and after it’s all said and done, inspiration no longer strikes in the evenings.

I’ve misplaced my mojo…  It’ll come back one day.

 

 

In the mean time, this is what you get when you type “fucking weird” into Google.

 

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I tried typing “fucking freaky” but yeah, you don’t need to see that.

Love,
Robo X


Good for the soul

Welcome to The Lounge for another week!

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This week is meant to be all about the music…

 

Sorry kids!  I just couldn’t decide…

Too many songs, too many artists, too many memories.

 

 

So today, I’ve handed the reigns over to Mr Robo and I’m showcasing his favourite song of all time.

 

Eulogy, by a little known band, at least in my blogging world, called Tool.

 

 

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You might’ve seen this logo on a few grubby t-shirts over the years.

 

 

 

 

If you can get past the anti-Christian sentiments, which are just a metaphor really, for all the tall poppy martyrs who cross our paths, you might see something in it.

 

It’s good to try new things.

Check out the links below.

 

Love,

Robo X


Oh, the places you’ll (maybe never) go!

Welcome to The Lounge for another week!

Our keyword is Epic.

You can link up just below.

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“Travel makes one modest. You see what a tiny place you occupy in the world.”

-Gustave Falubert

I have no idea who Gustave Flaubert was, but I love this quote.  It make me think about my own actual size, its comparison to the all encompassing schema of existence, the universe…

Incidental?  Important?  Insignificant?

What is me?

The answer is perspective.

I’ve travelled, just not enough.

Not as much as I thought I would.

Nowhere near enough as I want to.

One day I will.

And these are just a few of the epic places I hope to experience.

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The Ganges River, India

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The Arizona Desert, USA

Biggest-Jesus-Chris-Statue

Christ the Redeemer, Brazil

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The Great Wall, China

Katherine Gorge - Northern Territory

Katherine Gorge, Northern Territory

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New York City, USA

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Niagara Falls, Canada

Ayers-Rock-Summer

Ayers Rock, Northern Territory

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Red Square, Russia

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The Amazon Jungle, South America

I could go on.  It was hard to stop, really,

Had any epic travel experience?

Love,

Robo X

P.S. Message me for image credits.


By the Powers of Grayskull!

If you’ve read this blog enough, you know my stance on commercialism and my kids. 

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But now that my son has outgrown ABC for Kids, he’s looking at other stations in the mornings.  And now that he’s become a little big guy, he pays close attention to everything.  Especially advertisements.

All that hard work parenting media savvy kids is disappearing fast.  It’s a whole new world now…

 

On Sunday, he asked me to show him my, ‘favourite cartoon from when you was little’.

I showed him this:

 

 

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Anyone who attended primary school circa 1980s should be familiar.

He-Man and the Masters of the Universe went hand in hand with my morning Coco Pops.

 

 

He-Man, Skeletor and of course, She-Ra – Princess of Power.

 

 

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In the afternoons, I’d lay on the lounge watching this:

 

 

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And in later years, this.

 

 

Press Gang

 

TV was limited back then, but it was brilliant.

 

 

This afternoon my Mr 5 burst through the door from Kindergarten, demanded something to eat and settled tummy-down on the rug to watch Spongebob.

 

 

Mr Robo and I smiled at each other.

Old habits die hard.

 

 

Linking up with The Lounge today over at Tegan’s

 

 

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Love,

Robo X