Monday, 15 May 2017

Do You Eat Your Feelings?

Hello there, strangers! Yes, it's little 'ole me, back to entertain you after a bit of a break that went on longer than the school holidays. But you get that. Things to do. Places to go. People to see. That sort of thing. Except there wasn't. Unless my family, grocery shopping and scrolling mindlessly through Facebook count. See? I told you. All such important things. Yes, indeed. Such a fascinating and action-packed life I lead.

Anyway, I lied. I'm not so little. Oops. This is likely due to the fact that, in addition to all of the above, I have also been busily eating all of my  feelings. Every single one of them. They all taste suspiciously like cakies. Sadness = cakies.  Happiness = cakies. Boredom = cakies. Joy = cakies. Stressed? Eat a cakie. Relaxing? Best way to do so is with enough sugary carbs to induce a diabetic coma... You get the picture. 

Which segues neatly to this week's Life This Week prompt:

My favourite junk food. 

I bet you can't guess. Drum roll, please...


Haha! Tricked you! 

Chocolate AND cake. What a surprise. With an honourable mention of hot chips. Because who doesn 't love hot chips with chicken salt and/or gravy? Shut up, all you low carb/no carb fanatics. No one wants to hear about it. Just go and eat your salad and be sad. Or smug and energetic and glowing. I'm not jealous AT ALL.

Image credit:

Yep, basically I am addicted to sugar and all carbs. 

Needless to say, my trysts with the dietition are going splendidly well. Using 'splendidly well' in the sense of  are a complete and utter charade.

At my last visit I had managed to lose a whopping one kilo, but heavens knows how many more I have since put on. Sigh.

Don't you just hate people who whinge about being fat while they shovel anything that isn't nailed down into their gobs? Just quietly, people who whinge about being fat while being nothing of the kind are worse. This was also me some years ago. DOH.

It occurs to me that I never had significant issues with food when I when I was younger. Especially when I was still living with my parents. However, these days I am the person who is primarily responsible for everything food related. I have to do the grocery shopping, cook the meals and feed a family. 

This means that it often feels like all I ever think about is food. I don't find this very helpful. It appears that I have no impulse control when it comes to my eating habits. Additionally, I am now the mother of teenage boys. They constantly eat. They also never put on weight. I seem to have some sort of delusion that I'm also a gangly teenage boy, instead of an overweight middle aged woman. 

Yeah, I know. I need a gigantic kick up the you know what. It's quite obvious from what I have told you that I am the one who buys or bakes the cakies (except when my mum does...),  and I don't want to confront my addiction. I'd rather act like a petulant three year old, sulking in the corner because she can't have cake for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. And snacks...

Plus, most of the stuff that I like to do, such as reading or writing, is quite sedentary. Why couldn't I have been one of these sporty types? 

Oh, well. Enough of my whinging. I'll plod back to the dietitian and see what happens. She also suggested counselling and I was a bit meh about it. I've been backwards and forwards to shrinks and counselors for years and then basically had to figure out I'm autistic myself! But maybe it's not such a bad idea.

It's either that or wiring my jaw shut. Too extreme? 

Of course I could decide to hell with it, who cares what size I am. I certainly could not care less about anyone else's weight or size, so why torture myself? The thing is, though, I've had breast cancer, am on medication for high cholesterol and have a family history of type 2 diabetes. Therefore, keeping my weight within a reasonable range is actually rather important. DAMMIT. 

So I guess my food/weight issues are not going anywhere... Well, except for my waist, thighs etc... Eventually I may have the maturity and emotional intelligence to realise that I can just FEEL my feelings and leave the cakies the hell out of it. Hopefully before I'm around 75 years old and morbidly obese.  More sighs.

But I suspect cakies will always remain my favourite junk food.

What's yours? 

Are you an emotional eater? 

Linking up for Life This Week. 

Saturday, 8 April 2017

Stuff I Do When I Should Do Something Else

Every day I have a to-do list. Well, most days. Okay, some days. Look, I actually prefer the idea of a ta-da list. 

I've mentioned before that I'm very easily distracted. In addition to this helpful trait, I'm also a daydreamer. An off with the pixies space cadet. This means that my lovely little to-do list can be found languishing and lonely while I'm otherwise preoccupied.

The things I do most often when I'm meant to be doing something else:

  • Scroll through Facebook and observe everyone's bright shiny happy highlight reels. No, I'm not jealous AT ALL. Sniff.  
  • Reading. Books, books books and MORE BOOKS. So many books, not enough time! 
  • Daydreaming (see above).
  • Writing or blogging (I do add these things to my to-do list, but for some reason I still feel guilty and like I should be something else that is housework related.) Sigh. 
  • Pole Dancing. It's a passion of mine. In my daydreams. Again - see above. 
  • Watching TV. I don't have Netflix, and I'm not a reality show fan. But lately I've found myself watching programmes about murderers. Or, true crime documentaries. I blame Mickey Blue Eyes. He got me started on this stuff. There is something totally icky about these programmes. I don't feel like any of these psychopaths should be given any air time. We should remember and honour the victims. Yet I still find myself watching them when I should definitely be doing something else. I know, I hate myself.
  •  Over-thinking. Ruminating. Pondering. Mulling things over.  
  •  Obsessing over Karen Carpenter by watching Youtube videos for HOURS. But she was SO CUTE. And talented. 
  • Hang gliding. 
  • Taking a nanna nap. This would appear to confirm that I did indeed make the previous point up. Shut up, I had to make this list interesting somehow! 
  • Making cups of tea.
  • Drinking cups of tea. Once made, they must be drunk. Drank? I should learn proper grammar one of these days... Snorts. 

Well, that was a comprehensive list. I could go on, but it all boils down to what my mother would call 'fiddle fart arseing around'. I'm a fiddle fart arser extraordinaire. It's a gift, people.

Without a doubt, good old Facebook is the biggest time waster for me. I don't even play Candy crush or Farmville, or any of those games, but I can still manage to spend ages scrolling away. Apparently I'm gifted. Or something. Besides, fiddle fart arseing around on Facebook has a certain ring to it. Doesn't it? 

It's a weird and wonderful thing, this here social media, don't you think? At the click of the mouse you can connect with like minded people, access information and endless entertainment. There are so many advantages. But if you're like me, you also need to remind yourself to pull back a bit and engage in the real world. 

Others would argue that the online world IS just as real and valid these days. And I suppose it is, but there needs to be a balance. for some one like me who finds it difficult to switch attention between tasks, it can certainly be problematic.

One strategy would be to set the timer on my phone as a reminder. That way I can limit myself to fifteen or twenty minutes and stop and do something else for a set time as well. I have been implementing this as a strategy. Sort of. Kind of. Sometimes. When I remember. Yes, I am a very bad person. 

Oh, well. I had better stop fiddle fart arseing around. (And, you know, saying 'fiddle fart arseing around...').  I'm sure there's something else I'm supposed to be doing right now. I had better go and do it. If only I could remember what it was...

Linking up for Friday Reflections. 

What's the thing you do most often when you're meant to be doing something else? 

Saturday, 1 April 2017

Horror Scopes

Hello there! It's the weekend again, lovely people. Now, make yourself comfortable, sit down with a glass of wine, and let's talk about horror scopes. Erm... I mean... horoscopes. 

Do you read yours? I must confess, I do not. This may come as no surprise, but I'm quite the cynical old soul in regards to such frivolities.  However, I figured why not? Let's have a look into this nonsense, shall we? At any rate, I can't think of anything else to write, and I've had a scotch or two, so this should be interesting... 

Yep. I am a Greedy Emo. 

I made my way into this mad old world on January 15th of 1971. According to astrology this makes me a Capricorn. And a Greedy Emo. See above.

It is an indisputable FACT that all Capricorns are dazzlingly clever and divinely beautiful. Okay, I may have made that up. (Or stolen it from LM Montgomery...). There was no need for the word 'may' in that sentence... But aren't all horoscopes fiction? So why can't I invent whatever it is that I want? HMPH.

Anyway, I just did a bit of the old googling and this is my horoscope for yesterday:

It's a good time to build up your self-esteem in terms of expressing yourself. Deep down inside, you're a very creative person, and today is a good day to let that show. Get involved in planning or cooking a meal, and volunteer to set the table. You can arrange the settings in a unique way -- let yourself do something that strikes people as downright odd. It's all part of encouraging yourself to take chances and express your natural talents.

Indeed, I have been cooking a lot lately, as well as setting the table in my own unique way. This involves flinging mismatching crockery and cutlery at the table in a most random fashion. Food follows likewise, because by the time I get to this point of the proceedings I am completely over it all and don't care anymore, so they can eat it or starve. 

But back to me being a Capricorn. 

According to Google, Capricorn personality traits are as follows:

Capricorn Traits : The Capricorn-born people are the most determined of the entire Zodiac. The most prominent qualities of the Goats, as they are called, are that they are ambitious, conservative, determined, practical and helpful.
Bwahahahahahahaha! NO.
How I fervently wish that the above was true for me! I am not at all determined or ambitious. I suppose I'm conservative, with a teensy little subversive streak that makes a guest appearance now and again. Like when I write rambling blog posts while I'm tipsy (or stone cold sober...). Living on the edge! 
Additionally, us goats are reputed to be quite stubborn. I've never thought of myself as stubborn. However, I don't cope with change whatsoever, so I'm wondering if that is, in fact, a form of stubbornness? What say you? 
Meanwhile, I just read the following passage and it certainly does resonate: 
Capricorn women typically enjoy people though they are often thoughtful, self-contained and shy. Their quiet exterior can make them appear to be loners, often building a wall of reserve around themselves. They are very loyal to those they care for, but often cold to those outside of their circle of friends and family. They are often highly cautious and analytical when making new friends.


My initial thoughts were that I am NOTHING like a Capricorn. However, after my drunken online reading, some of it does resonate. I reckon it's all open to interpretation and you can read whatever you want into it. I'd still never take horror scopes too seriously, but they're quite fun some of the time. Or maybe that's the scotch talking... You be the judge.

And now a final look at all of our horror scopes for the for the future...

I think that sums it up. 

What do you think? What star sign are you? Does it reflect your personality? Or do you think it's all a load of bollocks? 

Monday, 27 March 2017

Three Month Review

Welcome to yet another Monday! Isn't 2017 just FLYING BY?! It's almost April! This seems like the perfect time to have a three month review.

Drum roll, please...

Here we go.


We start the year off fiiiiiine....

No wait. That's a Neil Sedaka song. I can't even remember how we started the year. Um. I think we stayed up until midnight on NYE (we like to be divergent), heard some fireworks and went to bed.

Two weeks later, I turned 46. Prior to this,  I enjoyed a girl's day out to the central coast with a few friends, to celebrate my friend Kimmy's birthday.

I chose my one word for the year. MOVE. I am happy to report that is working out quite well. The fact that the movement is at a glacial pace is COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT.

Meanwhile, the persiflage is firing away rapidly. Panglossian is making a guest appearance, in a somewhat redolant fashion. I must hasten to fix this transgression forthwith. It would appear that I have recently watched a Bronte sisters biopic called To Walk Invisible, as well as too many episodes of Downton Abbey. Yet, this cannot be so. It is entirely impossible to do such a thing. In fact, quite the opposite. You can NEVER watch too much Downton Abbey. Absurd!

During the month of January I also shared some thoughts about routines. The following conclusion was reached: I am really quite awful at them. Sigh.


This is the month after January and before March. I expect this will be thrilling and startling information. By now, school had resumed. Mr 13 began high school, where he is settling in nicely. Suddenly, Valentine's Day was upon us. But I didn't care because Valentine's Day is bullshit. And so are Mills & Boon romances according to my former high school English teacher. I told you all about it here.

Meanwhile, my gluttony continued unabated. Look, I'm not proud of myself, but it's the truth. Eventually I made the herculean effort to drag my hefty frame back to the dietitian, whereupon she weighed me. Aghast, I stared at the number on the scales. It was at that defining moment that I realised this: it's only a number, albeit a distressing one. This only reinforces my word. Also: enough with the gluttony. After just one more slice of cake....

What else can I tell you about  February? I know! It is also the month that I spelled wrong for a number of years. Damn that second 'r'!  During this fanciful month, I wrote a letter to a kindred spirit before pausing to take stock.

The shortest month of the year was over before I knew it.  This brings us to...


There were a couple of notable happenings during this illustrious month.

Firstly, I had a follow up appointment with my radiation oncologist. Everything was good and he now doesn't need to see me again. I will continue to see my surgeon every year for the first five years, after which, I can go back to just seeing my GP. Mammograms are recommended to continue yearly forever, though, instead of every two years. This will happen again in August, and my surgeon appointment is in early September.

In other March madness, Mr 12 became Mr 13! My  boys are growing up!

Over the weekend I attended an old school chum's birthday bash, where we were served cocktails by a butler in the buff. I didn't even make that up. I really was there with my resting bitch face on. In my usual fashion, I also forgot to take photos and managed to dodge most of the others' photos. Ninja-like introvert talents FTW!

It also came to my attention that this March marks the fifth birthday of this humble space thatI like to call Nessville! Happy birthday to me! Um, I mean... MY blog. About ME.  So I get the cake. NER!

So endeth my three month review.

I think I will give myself an A plus. Because I CAN.

What about you? How would you review your first three months of 2017?  Have they been A plus? Please share!  

Friday, 24 March 2017

Page Twenty-Seven

Hello again, lovelies! I'm back to moan about the weather. At least I am consistent with SOME things. Related: I am totally over this piss rain/become humid rinse/repeat thing.  That is what is happening in Sydney, anyway. I long for warm autumn days with crisp evenings... 

Well, I am glad I got that little whinge over with. As expected, it didn't change a thing. Funny about that. This would seem to confirm that there is simply no point or purpose in complaining about things you cannot control nor change. This won't stop me from doing it again, I expect. Like I said, consistency is key!

While I am here, I may as well join in for Friday Reflections. At any rate, it will stop me from whinging. 

This week I have decided to go with the prompt: 

  • Pick up the book you are currently reading, go to page 27 and write a post starting with the first line on that page.
Okay, if you insist. 

Dutifully, I pick up a book I have already read and am re-reading. It's a non-fiction book called Use Your Words: A Myth-Busting No-Fear Approach To Writing by Catherine Deveny. 

Upon flipping over to page 27, I discover these words:

After a quote attributed to Dorothy Parker:  
"I hate writing. I love having written". 

Then, the first complete sentence is this: 

I tell my Gunnas: 90% of writing never sees the light of day. But 100% of writing makes the writer feel better for having written it. 

Oh, how I love this sentence! In fact, I really love this book. This is coming not long after I had written a post proclaiming that I didn't think books about writing were helpful.  I've changed my mind after reading this book. It's tremendously helpful. I recommend it, especially if you are feeling stuck about writing in any way. 

I definitely relate to the above sentence.  You see, this is really the main reason why I write and have a blog. It just makes me feel better. I liken it to exercise. I'm actually inclined to be rather lazy, easily distracted and a procrastinator. Not very palatable to admit, but there it is. The truth hurts. OUCH.

There is never any day when I wake up bursting with inspiration and/or motivation to either a) exercise, or b) write. But boy, when I make myself do these things, do I feel better. SO much better. So, if nothing ever comes of my word vomit, and nothing ever has, it's worth it just for that. 

By the way, Catherine Deveny runs a writing master class which she calls "Gunnas", so that's what she is referring to. 

She also notes elsewhere in the book that there is no forced sharing in these groups. The reason behind this: it doesn't matter what anyone thinks of your writing. It doesn't even matter what YOU think of your writing, the only thing that matters is that you write. Genius! 

I expect writing makes me feel better because I can express myself better through writing, not talking. For some one who has considerable anxiety, it's a calming activity. Scribbling or tapping away is comforting for me. Furthermore, it's something  I can do with my hands besides shoving food into my mouth. Ahem. It also allows me to connect with others in a way that I'm unable to do in person. I'm introverted, shy and autistic, so people skills are not my forte. 

Often, if I'm over thinking, the very act of 'writing it out' and brain dumping helps tremendously. I don't necessarily need to share it. I have so many notebooks scattered everywhere about the house. They would make for very tedious reading if anyone got a hold of them. However, notebooks are so much cheaper than therapists!  So I'll call that a win. 

And with this bloody weather, what else can one do? Whoops! I'm whinging about the weather AGAIN. Time for me to go and do some more scribbling I need never share! Over and out. 

Do you agree? Do you think most writing isn't shared, but still makes the writer feel better?

Friday, 17 March 2017

Nessville Turns Five!

Hello, beautiful people. Yes, you. You are most certainly beautiful. How do I know? I'm psychic. Or is it psycho...?

Anyway, I'm glad you're here.  If you're a regular, thank you! If you're new, welcome!

Today. I would like to examine the reasons for my blog and it's title.

This should be interesting. Or deadly dull. You decide. 

Still here? Good!  I knew you'd find it fascinating. Okay, on with the show.

This topic/prompt is quite timely. You see, it has come to my attention that I began this blog approximately five years ago in March of 2012.  Yes, it's been that long! I can't believe it either.

So, I guess I should actually celebrate a five year blogaversary? Why not?! Okay, cakies all round! Streamers, balloons and trumpets and unicorns and fairy dust and...

And, just me. In my own little world...

As usual.

That's what this place is about. All of the above. Unicorns and all. It's my own little world, so I can make it whatever I want. Sniff. 

It does seem odd to keep talking to myself here for five years. But the thing is, I'm NOT a talker. So I tap away and fling a few words and thoughts at the internet. A small  number of people read them and I still get to pretend I'm in my own little world, instead of writing and posting things publicly for potentially anyone to see. I'm weird and slightly delusional. A woman of illogical contradictions intriguing dichotomies, I think you will find.

I've discussed why I started this blog before.  Additionally, there was a post about the whole saga behind Nessville. You may pop over and read them if you like. I'll wait until you come back. Or, just give it a miss. I don't mind. 

Either way, you still get CAKE.

Well, a picture of a cake. Same thing, isn't it?  

At this point, I would just like to be all mushy for a moment and thank each and every one of you dear readers. Thank you for taking the time to have a bit of a squiz* at my ramblings. I do waffle on so, never providing anything useful other than a teensy bit of amusement (I hope), so I appreciate it. And I'm not even going to make any jokes about there only being one of you... There's at least two. DOH.

Self-deprecation is my default setting. Ever so sorry! I am trying to being less so. After 46 years, it's uphill work to retrain oneself. But it must be done. Slowly. I'm sure I'll be bursting with confidence by the time my 10th blogaversary rocks around... So make sure you stay with me to find out! 

Meanwhile,  in addition to cake, wine sounds good. So cheers!

* 'Squiz' is Australian for 'having a look'. Makes perfect sense, right...

Linking up for Friday Reflections with the prompt:

 The reason behind your blog and its name.

What are the reasons behind your blog (if you have one)? 

What milestones are you celebrating? 

Monday, 13 March 2017

True Colours

Some people love all the colours of the rainbow, but only if they are strictly in rainbow order (you know who you are).  Others favour vivid, intense colours. Bright reds and purples. I think I'm an Earthy girl. Or, you know, boring...

I seem to be drawn to subtle shades of mint or sage green. Teals and olives. 

I've always thought of myself as not being much of a pink person, which is funny because I'm a breast cancer survivor.  However, I guess I did have a sort of pink, girly bedroom as a child/teen. Well, actually it was more of a soft peachy apricot with pink undertones. But this was the 80s, so it could have been worse. I could have had hideous floral wallpaper... Oh wait... I did at one stage. 

Anyway, after doing some lazy googling comprehensive research about my colour preference I have discovered this:

There is a good deal of nonsense on the internet. Who knew? 

Related: I found  this website.

In summary, supposedly people who favour green are natural among groups, love to join in and always know what to say and do...

Um. No. No, I don't.

Also; this: 

Having a personality color green means you are strong-willed and do not like to be told what to do by others. You do like to win arguments and do not concede defeat easily.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha! NO. 

I avoid arguments and confrontations like hipsters avoid gluten.  

 But then, this:

With a personality color green you are not a risk-taker and not action orientated, rather more of an observer. You love to sit in a café and watch the world go by.

Well, okay. Yes. Fair call. Except I like to sit in a cafe eating cake. Get it right, Internet! 

Then this site goes on to explain that if you DISLIKE green, you:

  • Are not a social joiner.

  • Are not particularly interested in nature.

  • Are a loner, preferring solitude to crowds. 

Overall this sounds MUCH more like me. Crazy old Internet. And Google is supposed to know everything! 

Personally, I think I am just a mummy's girl and my mum's preference has always been for greens. But I also like blues. Especially teals and blue greens. Just to mix it up a bit.  

Mr 8 is a funny old thing when it comes to colours. He frequently quizzes me about his favourites. For a long time it was red. Now he's progressed to purple. The brighter the better for this boy. 

When it comes to clothing, I'm the opposite to Mr 8. I  prefer to wear basic black. Having said that, a quick rummage in my wardrobe reveals that the majority of my rags pieces ARE black, but there is also a fair amount of red. Because red goes with black. Duh.  And even though I'm not really interested in soccer, the rest of my family support the Western Sydney Wanderers, so at least I'm showing some sort of solidarity by wearing their colours.  

Over the years I've discovered that pale colours do not suit me. I am originally a natural redhead with fair skin, so I look washed out in pastels. Black and brighter colours are the go. Greens do suit me, because I have green eyes. Fascinating information, I am sure. 

Anyway, according to the above website, if you favour black it means (among other things):

You may appear intimidating to even your closest colleagues and friends, with an authoritarian, demanding and dictatorial attitude.


Yeah, nah. I don't think I'm intimidating to anyone, even the dog. Or an ant. Or a shadow...

But I have been known to do this:

Now, if you'll excuse me, there are some piles of black clothing that need putting away.

What are your favourite colours? 

What do you think they say about you?