If you can’t cope with my unhelpful-help, perhaps buy a headscarf?

Hear no Evil. See no Evil. Speak no Evil

You’ve read them too right? Those blog posts/articles/rants that do the rounds from someone on their high horse with their List of Things You Should Not Say To Them When They are in X Situation?

I hate those lists. 

  • 25 things not to say to a woman who is struggling to fall pregnant
  • 174 things not to say to a woman over 30 going through a break up
  • 4062798 things not to say to someone with depression

I really really hate those lists.

If we all get around stifled with fear for saying the wrong thing, that means nothing will be said at all. And if nothing is said it all, surely we’d end up wondering why the bloody-hell no one cares?

I get it. Sometimes when you are in the shit, you just want your friend to get down in the hole with you, sit down, shut the f*** up, and give you a hug {+ maybe a little “Everything will be ok” or “I’m here if you need me” on the side too}. Continue reading

3 things no.3! || nanas, love & mandarins

Time for another edition of everyone’s favourite game – 3 things!

3 things I learnt/realised/randomly thought about this week || no.3

#1 Nana’s can be cruel

You know it’s time to book an emergency hair appointment when your 90 something glasses-wearing-nana says:

“Oh look at those roots Anna. Are you growing your hair out to go back to your natural colour?”

Touché Nana. Touché.

This is my Nana. See? I told you she wore glasses.

This is my Nana. See? I told you she wore glasses.

#2 That I quite possibly have had too many failed relationships

‘Nuff said really. Or if you now find yourself more intrigued read this for a laugh: The Tragically Failed Relationships Mix Tape.

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#3 Mandarins are a sometimes food

It’s mandarin season in Australia. I would like to warn everyone though that a mandarin is no substitute for chocolate during a craving. No matter what anyone tells you. (Stupid Nutritionists).

In fact, I think they should actually be eaten like this.

Friends for life (and in ma belly)

Friends for life (and in ma belly) … (Green & Blacks Organic & Fair trade Chocolate)

How about you? What things have you learnt/realised/randomly thought about this week?

x anna 

Bookie Wookie

A little weekend trip to country Victoria recently found me at a small independent bookstore.

I know – a real-life bookstore. Prehistoric.

And this place had all the trimmings of an old-school bookstore that real bookworms love – a quiet, private, all-consuming space of fresh pages ripe for the picking, moderately supervised by a softly spoken bookie who is more enthused about which best-selling author has just released their next piece than actually taking your money.

I totally get the love of a bookstore. But I am not a bookie.

I have tried. Often after a really good juicy novel that’s taken me away to another time and place I get so excited to find something else to devour. I love the sense of achievement at the end as you turn the last page, and that the characters stay with you for a while afterwards. Always a sign of a good-en.

But EVERYTIME after an all-absorbing successful read, I end up back in the bookstore in a cold-sweat and an overwhelming sense of pressure to choose another high-quality (if not more brilliant) page-turner.

I develop the symptoms of: bad-book-phobia.

I have so much trouble choosing just one off the shelves of thousands and commit my life (or at the very least my nights and occasional tram trip) to it. Not that I am reading world-changers. You’d be excused for thinking you were standing in the World Politics section of the most boring library in the world if you looked at my husband’s book collection. Mine however reveals someone happy with a bit more trash. There is always room for trash isn’t there?

My husbands books… snooze-fest.

My husbands books - snooze fest. Continue reading

How to be a Good Wife: Anna goes to Marriage School

J1 (who opts out of a formal choice of religion) has generously agreed to my request for us to be married in a Catholic Church.

While I’m not a practicing supporter of the church itself, I do believe in God and I am a bit of a fan of spirituality more generally and what it can bring to your life. Like most “non-practicing-but-ok-with-God” people who have had an upbringing in a Catholic school, a few god-fearing grandparents to keep you on the straight and narrow, as well as perhaps a couple of failed attempts to ‘find something else’, here I am, still believing but slightly jaded by those at the top who run it. It’s like wanting to drink 7 cocktails without the hangover. You often can’t get one without the other, but you can sure as hell try your hardest to enjoy the best bits.

(Side note: Bring on Women Priests & Married Priests)

In deciding to proceed with the sacrament of marriage and wanting that to be carried out in a church, it became quickly evident that there were certain rules J1 & I would need to adhere to.

And I’m not talking about “NO RICE, CONFETTI, BUBBLES OR ROSE PETALS ALLOWED ON CHURCH GROUNDS” rules (kill-joys). I’m talking about attending 16 hours on wifery-perfecting for me (not to be confused with mid-wifery) and husbandry-perfecting for J1 (certainly not to be confused with animal-husbandry).

That’s right, Marriage School.

I went to Marriage School and passed. (I have a certificate to prove it).

I went to Marriage School and passed. (I have a certificate to prove it).

Continue reading

OMG you have been such a jerk today!

Sometimes my fiancé J1 and I can have a good-old fashion barney.

Not often, but let’s say more regular than a solar eclipse.

Me & J1 – obviously an occasion in between barneys

I know – so crazy right? Here you were thinking I was one of those people with such a level of high emotional intelligence and a perfect relationship meaning I never have disagreements with my partner (I will assume you are either new to our blog and/or haven’t read this post, or this post, or this post )….

With us both being a little ‘strong-willed’ in our approach to life, sure makes for some interesting conversations now and then.

Sometimes these conversations end up making me not want to talk to him for a certain period of time. Basically for as long as I can possibly hold out. I’m really good at the silent treatment.

The problem is, after a reasonable amount of huffing and puffing, possibly crying if it’s a really crappy argument, feet stomping, or grumbling (or all of the above) and I need someone to turn to, someone to console me in my hurt, someone to give me a cuddle and say “It’s ok, it’s not a big deal”…  I realise it’s him. It’s him I want to make me feel better.

Continue reading

A happy marriage. What’s the magic formula?

Our parents are celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary this week.

1972. Our parents on their wedding day. (Love the bow-tie Dad. Can J1 borrow it for our wedding?)

When you stop to think about it, it’s a big achievement. Massive. Just think, 40 years with that one person. My mum married my father as a sweet 21 year old – so she has spent two-thirds of her life with him.

She wouldn’t know a day without him, and he without her.

And let’s face it. It’s especially awe-inspiring with a current divorce rate of 2.3 divorces per 1,000 population (2010 figures from the Australian Bureau of Statistics).

That’s 50,200 divorces.

That’s 100,400 unhappy people (or happy people, depending on how you look at it).

That’s 1 in 217 Australians getting divorced every year! Continue reading

Great Expectations: How you can be your own worst enemy when locked out of the house on a cold afternoon.

I was chatting to a girlfriend recently about the ins and outs of relationships and we realised that sometimes we are guilty of deliberately going about things to set our partners up to fail.  I listed a couple of doozies of when I had done this recently, and my friend fessed up to her less than appropriate behavior too.

Why on earth do we do this? It seems like the exact opposite of what you should be doing in caring for your partner, but I guess sometimes love makes us do stupid things? Sometimes we hurt the ones we love the most, and the reason for inflicting that hurt is hard to understand (without the help of psychologist at $200 per hour)?

Is this something you can relate to?

An embarrassing example:

I recently accidentally locked myself out of the house when I was pulling some sheets off the line.  It was quickly approaching 5pm on a Melbourne afternoon and even though it’s apparently Spring, it’s still maxing out at a top of 15 most days here – So it’s fair to say it was chilly, getting more so, and I was pissed off about it. Continue reading