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What computers taught me about sex


This image is the wonderful ‘Erotica’ by Federico Castellon

The most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me in my whole life, still, to this very day, even more embarrassing than when my dad found my vibrator collection, and even more embarrassing than when I vomited on a footballer outside Frostbites, and even more embarrassing than publishing a poem called “YOU DID THIS TO ME”, happened when I was about 11. I hope my dad doesn’t remember, but I expect he does and just hopes we will never talk about it again.


What I didn’t learn about feminism from my feminist mother

My mother doesn’t take shit from anybody. She is kickarse in all the ways available. She is an empowered and balanced and amazing woman. If she weren’t my mother already, I would wish that she were. Probably. No offense to my other, hypothetical mother. As far as role models go, she is the cream of the crop. She is a woman doing things in multiple STEM fields, being a caring and supportive mother and grandmother, and looking young and hot always.

So in summary …

Sometimes life calls for a summary post. It's not always easy to make the words come out in the right order, especially if you've been giving them to NaNoWriMo instead. Georgia Six months ago we went to Georgia's teacher in desperation, to have a go at figuring out why she's lonely and sad. Last week we got the results of the school's monitoring and subsequent assessment. Now we have a list of new people to go and see and ask the same...

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I’ll be there for youuuuu coz you’re there for me toooooo

I was Facestalking today, as I am wont to do, because I still vie for the affections of people who inexplicably didn't like me in high school and probably still wouldn't because let's face it I'm kind of irritating. I'm turning 30 in a few weeks, so it follows that a lot of people I was at school with are also at that milestone. And according to Facebook, the popular girls have decided to mark the occasion by all going to Byron Bay...

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Breakfast in Armadale – is it worth the risk?

I sat down for a quiet breakfast on my own this morning, and was rather enjoying myself when a toffee-nosed woman in her 60s sat down at the next table. "WAITER!" she bellowed. "I WANT A GLASS OF WATER!" The waiter was a very nice young man, bordering on meek if I'm honest, and he rushed to bring her one. "UGH. I DRINK HEAPS OF WATER. GET ME A CARAFE." I tried to helpfully explain to her that no one has asked...

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My one-sided Mummy War

Stop the presses: Mummy Wars do exist! I know this because I am currently having one. It is a battle of epic proportions. Literal tears have been shed. Each morning I wake with a sense of foreboding, wondering how many men I might lose. I can hear the air raid siren now. But here's the thing about this Mummy War: I'm having it with myself. I'm one of those dastardly mothers who chooses to do "everything". They call us "women who want it...

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Why? Because fuck you!

There are mornings with children that are not unlike punching yourself in the eye over and over. Then there is this morning, which was a bit like if I'd dipped my fist in a bucket of acid piranhas covered in nails, and rather than just punching myself in the eye I had ground said fist backwards into my lower intestine. Three different people have since offered me chocolate, which means it's likely I'm literally crying without realising. And I ate that chocolate - for...

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Mummy bloggers – more bullied than the rest of us?

Firstly, GOOD ON YOU women speaking out against this kind of bullying. I think that rocks, because it's not okay to bully anyone for anything. But, yet again, the media has sensationalised something in this space, like the "mummy wars", that serves only to perpetuate the notion of bitchy, panicky, insecure women being unkind to each other. There is a lot of chatter at the moment about the perceived abuse of mummy bloggers. It seems geared slightly toward those who make...

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Becoming Mother

Yesterday, my mum said to my brother and me, “I can’t believe I had these lovely children!” and I remarked that maybe she would be used to the idea after thirty years. “I don’t think you ever really get used to it,” she said.

This is my ninth Mother’s Day. Nine years ago I was pregnant to bursting with Georgia. I was twenty and I was terrified. I didn’t really feel like I was preparing to be a mother. Somehow it seemed more like the baby would come out and then I’d be the cool much older sister, and my own mum would do most of the work.

A little bit of International Women’s Day

To the exceptional women I am lucky to call my family: My nan We are now 12 long years without you. You remain the most courageous woman I have ever known. At 26, in a post-war recession, you became husbandless. You never remarried. You took those children - also women - and taught them how to be good people. You lost one of them. You nurtured a whole family of strong women. You were our rudder. As a teenager, I sat with you...

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