Pirate Yoga Pants? Yes...Really...

So I was browsing through a certain online auction site and there they were. Available at a fairly reasonable price... Pirate yoga pants.

Which of course begs the question - What the hell? I can't tell you the number of things that crossed my mind. Do pirates do yoga? If so is there a certain dress standard required? Are there pirate yoga tops too? Do they come in a variety of colours?

Let's think about it though. Pirate yoga - it could be a thing. I mean I'm sure when someone first came up with concept of Zumba they were shouted down. That would never work they were told. 

So Pirate Yoga. The possibilities are endless. The most obvious being the great new names for the yoga poses. Can you manage The Plank? Not quite? Never fear you can attempt the 'Walk The Plank' instead. Which would probably consist of walking... In a straight line... Pretending to balance yourself.

Downward Dog is so yesterday. All the cool kids are doing the 'You Scurvy Dog.'

Animal names are common in yoga. How about The Albatross? Or The Parrot? Which may or may not involve attempting to sit on someone's shoulder. Repeating verbatim what the instructor says is of course optional.

Clutching your stomach tightly while bending forward and groaning - doing the 'Sea Sickness' pose.

The corpse pose can pretty much stay the same. 

If you want cardio then perhaps a bit of sword fighting? Not strictly yoga but hey a fencing/yoga fusion done while listening to 'A sailor went to sea sea sea',' 6 months in a leaky boot','I am sailing' and 'The horn pipe' could be the next big thing. 

So there you have it. If you have ever wondered what to do with that ill advised late night purchase when you thought pirate yoga pants seemed like a great idea? Well now you know! Let's get started?

 

Camping? WHY?

I always find it interesting at this time of year when people start to talk about their plans to go camping. Well interesting is a polite word actually. What I really mean is that I find it completely bonkers!

I mean camping? Why? Where is the appeal? Why do normal ordinary people get excited about the prospect of spending days in a vinyl tent under a hot sun surrounded by insects? I suppose children I get. Everything is exciting when you are a kid. But adults? Wouldn't they rather stay at a nice hotel? With an actual bed? And a solid roof? And air conditioning?

I  have been camping.... I think twice. Or maybe three times. I've blocked it out mostly. I was a child when I went camping so once I was old enough to decide on my own holiday destinations a tent was never an option. But I did go as a child and pretty much hated every minute of. I was not an adventurous child. Even young and carefree I saw the sense in a nice hotel.

Because if we think about it with a logical mind camping for recreation is quite ridiculous. If we were to tell someone from the 1800's that people actually camp out on the open for fun they will think people of the future are insane. Absolutely insane. Why would you sleep in a tent if you own a perfectly good house?

Because camping used to be of necessity. It was the only thing to do to get from place to place. If you happened to pass through a town with an Inn you would stay there... You know as opposed to sleeping on the hard ground. Why do that if you don't have to?

So camping for recreation perplexes me. I don't understand the appeal at all. It sounds like a form of torture to me. Especially in the Queensland summer, especially when people go north to go camping. It's like saying what is a holiday without a dose of heatstroke?

But imagine I were to go camping now? Imagine Master 4 decides he would like to go camping and mummy must come too? I suppose I would have to brave it. I imagine it would go something like this..

First trip to the camping store would be cut short by my hubby declaring that we really don't need all the things I am picking out. How are we going to transport the generator? Whereas I'm convinced it would fit on a trailer. We could hire a trailer to pack the generator and the portable shower and the bar fridge. So ok maybe the microwave is going a little too far. I will admit that.

So after being told to leave hubby will buy the basics needed to endure... I mean enjoy a camping trip.

The day will come and for some reason we will be leaving while it is still dark. I will ask why and not get a proper answer. I will INSIST we stop for coffee before we enter the middle of nowhere. I may be seen by passing vehicles to be silently sobbing into my coffee and declaring my love for it. Or maybe not. Who am I kidding? That's exactly what passing vehicles will see!

Upon arriving master four will wander off collecting all manner of sticks and rocks whilst hubby tries to put up the tent. I will at this point no doubt be spraying insect repellant all over us like a crazed woman.

At some point a swim will be suggested. Master 4 will be all excited. I will look askance at the muddy water and wonder whether it is safe, I will instil the importance of not swallowing the water! Though I need not have bothered as Master 4 will no doubt run out after a few minutes screaming that fish are touching him! Hubby will swim alone till it is time for lunch. I will try and read but will keep having to stop master 4 wandering off. Eventually I tell him there are Tigers in the bush so he does not go too far..

At last some sense! Lunch is cooked on a little gas cooker after even hubby realises attempting to build a fire would be futile. So sausages for lunch? Pretty cool I suppose. Just like a Saturday morning at Bunnings only we are not going home to an air conditioned house.

Somehow we make it through the afternoon. The only way anyone naps is if copious amounts of meds are taken. Who can sleep in this heat? Master 4 at some stage will ask if he can go and see the Tigers and I will slink down behind my book pretending I have not heard. I suggest the boys go on a bush walk to see the Tigers so I can have a few minutes alone. I will get all of five minutes until they come back exclaiming ' it's too hot out there!'

Dinner will involve probably sausages again.... Not so exiting second time round and alcohol. Yes it must involve alcohol. In fact there is one esky devoted to it. No way I'm camping without a glass of white wine. Or you know a plastic cup of white wine....

At some point it will be time to sleep. I will just get settled on top of my sleeping bag. It will be too hot no doubt to actually get inside the thing, when I realise I have to pee. It's one thing to find a place to pee in the bush during the day. It's quite another to have to find it at night. We did bring a torch didn't we? Didn't we?

The morning will come and I dare say there will be birds chirping and the sunrise will be beautiful. Maybe just maybe I will be delighted for all of a few a minutes with the wonders of nature before wanting to leave them.

Day two will be much like day one. Except at some point I will suggest that I cannot handle another insect bite and it's too hot to do anything so why don't we go? Hubby will pretend to be disappointed but will soon buck up when I mention the motel that is just 3.8km away that according to wotif have a vacancy.

Thus will be my camping trip. Here's hoping by the time master four wants to go camping I will be able to show him this in order to change his mind. Then again camping is the ultimate male bonding thing right? Father and son holiday? Yes? I can stay home lest I inhibit the father/son quality time?

So what is your take on camping? Fun or insane?

Concentrate. Pay attention. Spell my name right.

I remember well the episode of Seinfeld where Elaine ends a relationship over punctuation. Her Beau did not use an exclamation point when, as Elaine surmised, it was clearly necessary.

It sounds a teeny bit ridiculous. Ending a relationship over something so silly? If I had ended my relationship over such trivial things my husband and I would not have lasted 20 years. More like two days.

It is obvious to most of course that this was not the real reason but rather was an excuse. We all have heard of those people who have a fear of commitment who breakup using ridiculous reasons purely out of fear.

I read somewhere once about a woman who ended a relationship because her boyfriend did not fill up her ice cube trays fully. She realised quickly though that this was a metaphor for their relationship. He did not fill up her ice cubes trays. He was 75% in all he gave to her. So perhaps then this was fair enough?

I must admit to having my own silly quirks. I have in fact thought about ending friendships over spelling. Not just any spelling. I make my fair share of spelling errors. But rather over the spelling of my name. It is Kellie not Kelly. Simple really. There it is in all its glory to the side of my picture on facebook, in my bio on twitter and in my email signature. If you have seen it once you really should get it right.

Only people don’t. I get emails, letters and comments in facebook statuses addressed to Kelly on a regular basis by people, even family members, whom have known me for years. Most of the time I simply laugh it off but at some days I just want to scream to the heavens. Why can’t people pay attention and read what is in front of them?

So it is possible I think to break a romance or a friendship over something simple like punctuation, grammar or spelling or even squeezing the toothpaste tube the wrong way. Because it is a signal of someone not paying the attention they should. Not respecting someone enough. That, if done repeatedly can be a huge black mark against someone. If they don’t concentrate on the little things then how will they be on the big things?

Or perhaps I am being way too harsh. Lives are fast paced these days. People are busier than they have ever been and often not concentrating on little details really just means their brains have taken up everything concentrating on the big things and the details get missed. No reflection on anyone intended.

I read a heartbreaking story yesterday of a father who upon arriving to pick up his son from childcare was made aware the boy had never arrived. They found him dead strapped into his car seat. This father had forgotten to drop him off. But in his head he had done just that. Psychologists and experts said he was not to blame. Our minds sometimes do things in order to make us function better. We go on auto pilot. Somehow a switch flipped in his brain that said he had dropped his son off at day care as per usual.

So if a perfectly rational, normal, caring, busy father can forget that which is most precious to him then perhaps I can forgive someone who spells my name wrong? I think I can.

Perhaps there is something to learn here though. We all need to slow down. Maybe just a little bit but we need to be more aware of what is going on around us at any particular moment. If we read something then we should read it entirely and fully absorb it. If we are watching a movie then we should put away our phones and tablets and actually just pay attention to the movie. You get the picture. If we all lived in the moment a bit more, trying to stop our minds racing to the next thing we must do, then perhaps we might take in the small details that may just make a difference to someone else. 

Murphy's Law

You don’t hear people use the term ‘Murphy ’s Law’ much these days. But you do hear people exclaiming things like ‘it’s just my luck’ or’ this always happens to me!’ Ever feel like the world is against you? That things always happen to foil your plans?

Is it real though? I sometimes think that absolutely the universe is plotting against me. Of course I am really not that important that the universe would decide to give itself a chuckle by making me run around in circles…

But some days…

For example today I was going to walk to the daycare to pick up my son. I decided this yesterday. I am getting over a cold and wanted to re start some gentle exercise. So this was perfect. So what do you think happens? It rained. Not just sprinkling but absolutely pissing it down. So that plan goes out the window. What is more it seems as though this always happen. If I plan a walk in advance it rains. I’m not really a spontaneous exercise person. It seems to take some sort of strategy. Perhaps I should become more of a spontaneous person. Look the sun is out! I’m going to drop everything and go for a walk! Hmmm why can’t I see this happening?

So do you know the feeling? My husband insists if he picks the queue at the supermarket it will be the slowest moving. In fact the person in front will somehow break the eftpos machine and send staff members aflutter trying to sort it out. Supervisors will be called. Apologies will be given. Meanwhile the next line is moving quickly as people pay with cash and no customer feels the need to tell the cashier everything they did that day. The thing is this is in fact often the case. Don’t let hubby pick the line. Simple. It is his curse.

What else?

How about after a busy day you make a cup of tea, settle into your favorite chair and cover yourself with a blanket. You go to turn the TV on only you can’t because the remote is missing.. again. Another 20 minutes trying to convince your kid (or kids) to tell you where they put it, your tea is cold and you want to kick in the TV. You finally turn it on and it’s the last few seconds of your favorite comedy and then a reality show or even worse Neighbors comes on. You groan and turn it off and look for your book. Where did you put that freaking book? Oh there it is only who took the bookmark out? You’re missing your place….again. Just run the bath already…..where is the bath plug? ‘C’mon mate where did you put it? No it’s not funny.’  Bath plug found you shout out to hubby asking if he washed the towels. Well yes he did but they are not dry because they are still on the line and of course (what else?) it rained today… 

Just go to bed already. The world is against you. Something is telling you to just go to bed!

Any days like that? Yes? No? Well good for you. You are obviously one of those people blessed by the universe. Good for you. Now go away and leave me alone in my misery!

So in all seriousness (well I can be a bit serious) doesn't it feel like that sometimes? No matter how much you try and focus on the positives things just don’t go your way. For those of you too young to know Murphy’s Law is basically ‘If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong.” These days we are taught not to think like that; if we focus on negativity then that is what we will get. Which is of course, a far better way of looking at things but sometimes I catch myself thinking the worst. What will go wrong here? Or things are going too well….when will it fall apart? It’s just my luck!

So what about you? Tell me your story. What happens to you that makes you think you are somehow cursed? Come on… fess up!

Why I could never go on Masterchef...

The new series of Masterchef Australia is now gracing our TV screens. Another group of hopefuls will take on each other at various baking and cooking tasks.  People will tweet about it. They will comment on Matt Preston’s cravats, how yummy the cakes look, which contestants they love…or hate.  They will reminisce about their favorite winners from years gone by. Former contestants might even have an opinion or two.

The contestants do of course make the show. Their personalities’ are often as important as their cooking ability. Personally I admire each and every one of them. Yes even the ones everyone else hates; even the ones that get eliminated in the first week; even those that cry at the drop of a hat. In fact I even admire those that cringe when asked to cook a desert because they never cook desert. I mean it’s not as if they knew before going on national television that they might be asked to make such a thing and perhaps should have, you know, practiced. Yes I even admire those fools people.

Now I am not one of those people who boasts about my inability to boil water as though it is in fact a redeeming quality. This is not my reason for such admiration. Not at all. It is not like I admire anyone who can use a sharp knife and work out how to turn on the stove.

I do in fact enjoy cooking. I love trying new things and experimenting. I have a basic knowledge of food and flavors. I understand that cooking can be fun and artistic and an expression of love. Unlike some Masterchef contestants of years gone by I can in fact tell the difference between veal and pork.

In fact at first thought I imagined I would be just the person to go on the show. I love to cook and I can cook really well. Everyone says so. But no; I would fail miserably if I attempted to audition. I simply do not have the extreme passion and dedication these people have and this folks is what I admire so.

The people who go on this show really love food and cooking. I mean really passionately love it. So much so it seems a little bit abnormal. These people want to be chefs really, really badly. I suspect that if the show involved diving into a tank of sharks with the last one out alive being hailed the winner then these people would still do it. They would stare death in the face crying about how much their dream means to them.

Make no mistake. Good on them. Passion is a wonderful thing. But you know I just couldn't cut it. I don’t have the dream. I don’t have this ability to love each and every mouthful of food I consume and I don’t have the addiction to cooking. I thought maybe I did but I don’t. It’s a bit a sad actually. A poor reflection on what I thought was my love of cooking.

Some of these contestants talk about cooking as a way to relax after a tough stressful day. You know what I say?  Let’s just get some takeaway. Sometimes cooking can be fun but there are many times I truly can’t be bothered. Certainly a bath and a glass of wine are preferable than cooking a three course meal for relaxation. But maybe that’s just me.

I admit there are some foods I don’t like and don’t ever wish to ingest. I’m not talking religious reasons either but rather those ‘that looks and smells disgusting’ kind of reasons. Duck? Pigeon? Liver? Nah thanks not really keen. It’s not cooked properly you say? Well I don’t really care as I have no intention of eating it. So you want me to cook a seafood stew? Great stuff. Perhaps the best way to do this is throw it all together and taste it. Then when I want to throw up I will know it is just right?

If I imagine myself as a contestant it is as the one contestant that stands out from the crowd but not because of my cooking skills. One of the top chef’s in this country if not the world presents his signature dish. I am the only contestant not bowing and scraping but instead exclaiming, ‘Yuck that looks revolting. You expect me to taste that?’

Also imagine the would-be tear jerker scene when the judges ask me about my food dream. I say something like; ‘well I just thought it would be really cool to get on TV and learn to cook better. I mean my own cookbook would be so cool but I would rather die than ever have to work in a commercial kitchen. It looks like sheer hell in there!’

I do love it when the teams win challenges and are given a treat. At first they are usually told they will be having a lunch at some out of this world restaurant. So I would be thinking that this sounds great! Long lunch! Imagine the great wine list we could get stuck into? Then the clincher; that there will also be a class with the chef of said super dooper restaurant. What? You mean you actually have to work? Isn't this a prize for goodness sake? Can’t we just eat and get stuck into the booze then go back to the house and nap? But no the contestant’s actually get more excited about the learning opportunity then the free lunch! That is dedication. I would be ostracized if I was a contestant and gave my true opinion on the subject.

So there you have it. I love food and cooking but it turns out not nearly as much as I ever thought I did. These people put me to shame. I rarely see people so enthusiastic about a new career path. This is of course, lovely to see, but also a stern reminder of my own limitations. So please excuse me while I go and cook a lamb roast for dinner, with fresh rosemary or mint. No I won’t forget the correct resting time. I will however probably be using gravox so any would be Masterchef contestant best look away now.   

What about you? Could you cut it on Masterchef?

State of Origin time again. The question of Passion will arise...

It is that time of year again. The time where every Rugby League fan declares themselves blue or maroon(apparently pronounced maroan... don't get me started...) The time of year where friends turn to bitter enemies. Where you are suddenly the biggest fan of players you would normally detest simply because of the colour jersey they put on. It is State of Origin (SOO) time.

Now I live in Queensland. This does not make me a Queenslander. This is state of 'origin' after all and I originally came from the blue state. The wonderful state of NSW. Sydney to be precise. Now why I live in Queensland is a long story beyond the scope of this piece. I imagine you are shaking your head wondering how I have managed the past seven years. Well it has not been easy, I do not hide my Blues status. I wear it like a badge of honour which does of course mean this time of year tends to be difficult for me.

Though it is not the losing that bothers me the most. I mean of course it bothers me. No one likes their team to lose. I have been following NRL since I was a small child. I still have not quite gotten over Balmain's grand final loses in 1988 and 1989. The scars are still there. So losing seven years straight has not been pleasant. At times it has been downright depressing. But the current Queensland squad is made up of some of the best players in the world. It is little wonder they keep winning.

What really bothers me though more than that whole seven year thing is the whole issue of passion. No not bedroom passion. I'm not talking about that nude picture of Robbie Farah from that calendar a few years back. The one with the picture of him holding that seemingly effortlessly placed brick. No I don't mean that kind of passion. Not at all... Wait hang on where was I?

Oh yes. Passion. That thing that the Queenslander insist they have much more of. That intangible something else they insist is the secret behind their wins. You see the Queenslander would have us believe that they are more passionate than their NSW counterparts. They say their pride in the jersey is stronger. Queensland players grew up, they say, wanting to wear the maroon jersey. The New South Welshmen it is said want to wear the Australian jersey. The country they represent is more important to them than the state. This is why they keep losing. They don't have the passion.

Every single year it is mentioned. Often by the players themselves, former players, coaches etc. It is not just a media beat up. These men believe that: they believe they are superior to those south of the border... At least where this pride and passion are concerned.

It is interesting to think about that fact that wanting to play for your country is somehow not a good thing. It would seem Queenslander are Queenslander first and Aussies second. Hmmmm...Interesting. But forget about that for now. What I want to explain to you is how it felt growing up in Sydney as a rugby league fan. What I know of the passion those of us from south of border feel.

If we can just remember for a minute that there was not always a Queensland team in the NRL. In fact before it was the NRL it was the NSWRL. It consisted of teams mostly in and around the Sydney area. It started in 1908. So this is how long players who hail from NSW have had to take pride in where they come from.

Only I think we see it differently. Back then we were not perhaps as passionate about being from NSW because the enemies were closer than that of another state up north. When I was growing up the pride in your team went right alongside with the pride in where you came from. In my case it was western Sydney. Which means South Sydney and Manly where the enemy. The deadly enemy. You want passion? Try watching a game played at Brookvale, Redfern or Leichhardt oval played anytime last century and see for yourself.

Even now over 100 years later these rivalries live on. These relationships full of hate still exist. I cannot barrack for Souths. No matter that each player on his own may be nice enough. It is what it represents. Souths are the enemy. That is it. That is all. Souths supporters are as passionate about hating us Westies. We both hate the Eastern suburbs and everyone hates Manly.

Passion about where we come from? We have it in spades thank you very much Mr. Queenslander. It is just different to yours. It comes from over 100 years of rivalries. Something you would know nothing about having joined the comp so late.

So once SOO started those rivalries were still there. They took a group of guys who on the field were used to hating each other and often even trying to hurt each other and said you now play as a team. We are all from NSW and the enemy is Queensland. Now to be fair they caught on pretty quick. Players came from north of the bridge, south and east and west of it and somehow formed a team.

Now after all these years I would say they still do it pretty well. Perhaps even the passion for the part of Sydney you come from isn't as strong as it used to be. Players often do not live in the suburbs that their team represents. But if it has ever seemed that these players lack passion for the Blues jerseys ( and let's face it like I said before, it is said of them, every single year) then I think this is why. It is hard to forget old rivalries. Brisbane is one team in the comp. They have no history of hating other teams from a few suburbs away. There was no quickly driving through a suburb after getting lost when you realise you are driving through Redfern with a Wests bumper sticker. There are no great punch ups in final matches that live on in folklore between two teams from the opposite sides of the tracks that made up Sydney, the punches thrown with every ounce of passion and pride these men possessed.This sort of passion is unknown to the Queenslanders who go on about it so much.

So if we are going to talk about passion then lets get it right. Both sides have passion. Both sides are proud of where they came from. It is just different. It comes from a different place based on the different history behind the formation of each states journey through the great game of Rugby League.

I don't doubt the passion of the Queenslander. I actually like quite a few Queenslanders... well at least at other times of the year. But I am quite tired of my boys in Blue being labelled as something lesser than their Queensland counterparts. Whether we win this year or not all I ask is that the players play their guts out and show their pride in the jersey. I'm certain they will. They have been outplayed the last seven years because of a discrepancy in skill and experience. Passion is not and has never been the difference.

Chrissie Swan & Smoking in pregnancy.

It would seem opinions are divided on the latest mini scandal involving radio host and presenter Chrissie Swan. After a photographer took a picture of her smoking she admitted on air in a teary confession that she has smoked while pregnant. She explained she smoked approximately five a week and feels terrible about it. She has found it impossible to quit.

It would seem there are two very diverse opinions here. Those that say she is selfish and that her behaviour is inexcusable. Then there are those that say we all make mistakes and we should not judge her.

Smoking while pregnant is not recommend due to increased risks of many health problems for the baby. It is heavily frowned upon by most. What mother would knowingly damage her child?

One can understand people saying well in this case I am going to judge. Smoking while pregnant is wrong. It is dangerous and it is inexcusable.

Then again what do any of us know of her situation? Perhaps those who have never been addicted to a substance should not be judging.

Because addiction is an illness that cannot be controlled. You know the old way of treating alcoholics where people would just tell the person to simply stop drinking? Remember how well that approach worked?

Smoking is an addiction and a very difficult one to kick. I have heard smokers who have not smoked for many years still crave cigarettes. Overcoming an addiction to cigarettes is an extremely difficult thing to do. Willpower alone is often not enough despite what well intentioned non smokers might think.

Perhaps Chrissie's admission will make us see that when a woman becomes pregnant as much as she might want to do everything right for her baby giving up an addiction is not something that can just be done?

Yes there are plenty of people out there that have quit cold turkey and although I don't have the statistics I think perhaps most people fail in this approach. Why else would things like Nicolette etc be such big business?

Imagine a pregnant woman who has the odd smoke as she cannot control her addiction? What would she most likely do? Probably what Chrissie did and sneak them when no one was around as she would feel ashamed to tell anyone.

So instead of demonising Chrissie and those like her perhaps it is time to admit that quitting smoking is tough and that pregnant women should in fact ask for help?

This is a problem when things become unacceptable in society. We don't admit to them to anyone, don't ask for help and continue to suffer. The same can be said of alcoholics or compulsive gamblers.

I don't condone smoking in pregnancy. I think every pregnant woman should make great efforts to quit. In fact I don't like smoking at all. But perhaps we need to hate the habit and not the person who is addicted to it? Just a thought.

What do you think?