Media140 Perth

So I’m at the Media140 conference in Perth – a conference about tweeting and facebooking and blogging and the impact of social media on marketing and corporations.

Some of the issues already raised are ones I think most corporations are facing – especially those who already have a social profile – like radio stations etc… you know the whole what people should be able to say online, what if they bring your brand into disrepute one night after consuming a bottle of Tequila…

One of the more interesting speakers this morning was Jared Woods who is the Communications Manager with SKM – an engineering firm.

I guess I never considered that even engineering firms would have to deal with social media.

One of their policies at SKM (which I assume got past the board once the board learned what Facebook was) is that if you say you work for the company you need to abide by the Avatar Dress Code – which is basically you should dress in your picture as you might for work.

Fair enough.

In fact… I think that’s a good policy.

There was a lot of talk of monitoring what staff say about your brand using Google alerts and something called Social Mention.

I’m sitting here listening to a session on brand reputation and it is a vexed issue.

I get that.

But I think it is also a vexed issue for “private” bloggers/tweeters/facebookers.

Increasingly,  work and home life is blurring online.

I’ve been writing this blog for myself since 2002.  

Before Facebook, before twitter, before my work had computers on every desk (okay… not quite that long).

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So does that mean I can write what I like on this blog?

I mean obviously I’m not going to slag off work or my colleagues but maybe I shouldn’t be writing posts about my new underwear policy.

How much do I allow the work filter to affect my choices on this blog – on my twitter feed?

And of course while I can try and control what is in the personal bucket and what is in the work bucket, I can’t control what others do.

For example my personal twitter account has been linked in with other people’s twitter lists – using my work as a tag.

So now my personal profile is linked to work.

Not my doing. 

Does it mean my personal handle is compromised to such an extent that I can’t write what I like?

My feeling is no.

But that could be my heart more than my head.

I love this space to write about things that take my fancy.  To write about my life.

I would hate to lose it and start again.

So have you dealt with this issue?

What is your feeling?

Matching underwear

Probably, if you’re female and reading this, you will be the type that has ALWAYS worn matching underwear.

You know… your bra matching your knickers.

Yeah.

I thought so.

Well not me I’m afraid.

I’m the sort of gal that visits Marks and Spencers when visiting the UK and buys several packets of undies to last me YEARS between trips.

If there isn’t ten in a pack I feel ripped off.

Tragic I know.

I mean, how many cotton bombers does one girl need?

Last week I decided to grow the F up.

I’m 43 and the days of mismatched underwear are over.

I know what you’re thinking… what WAS I thinking…

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You know… sexy.

So the other day I went and bought a set of seriously gorgeous underwear.

Hey I’ve lost four kilos… they actually look good on me.

They are very nice.

Very very nice.

And so I’ve made a pact with myself.

From now on girl – matching underwear.

And just to make it a tiny bit easier (cheaper) I’ve also decided to buy two sets of knickers with every bra.

So now interweb you can relax, safe in the knowledge that should I be run over by a bus tomorrow, my mother won’t be embarrassed by my knickers.

I bet you’re relieved.

A perfect Sunday lunch

Lunch

How good is this diet I’m on?

In the last two weeks I’ve lost about four kilos, I’ve not given up wine and I get to have lunches like this.

Smoked salmon and cream cheese wheels – easy and delicious – with a light salad.

There was a light breeze as I sat outside on my reclining camper chair eating my salad and thinking that the world was a pretty good place to be in.

Speaking of salads… here’s a little rant.

Why do restaurants – in particular perhaps those that aren’t so great – overdo salads?

The one on this plate has some rocket leaves, one chopped spring onion, some sliced cucumber and yellow capsicum.

Simple and delicious.

A salad I had the other day at a restaurant had so many competing flavours I felt sick by the end of it.

It’s unnecessary.

I’m writing this listening to my new iTunes purchase – Elbow‘s The Seldom Seen Kid.

Strange name for a band don’t you think?
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Stranger if they’d decided to call themselves after the inside of the elbow… you know… that little crease on your arm that has no name.

I guess then that little crease would have a name.

You know, maybe I should give up on the wine.

Speaking of which…

I’ve just volunteered to host four kids going to my daughter’s school’s drama weekend.

Are you okay with Halal cooking I’m asked.

LOL – I don’t even know what that is.

Something to do with the meat is slaughtered no?

So I say yes, whatever and then my daughter tells me she’s not even doing the weekend because I didn’t fill out some form.

How very irritating.

I put my headphones in, turn Elbow up loud and go to a better place.

UPDATE: And then discover that iTunes didn’t download the album properly and I’m missing two tracks including the one I actually bought the album for. I don’t know, you do the right thing and throw money at the problem and you end up wishing you’d got your teenage son to steal it for you. (Note… that was a joke. As if I’d admit to being THAT bad a parent on a public blog)

Best friends

When I was in grade 6 my best friend was a Scorpio like me, she was born in Canada like me, we liked the same boys and she taught me how to riffle shuffle.

In recent years we’ve lost touch but then my parents met her in a cafe down south and got her number.

I called her and tonight we caught up – it must be at least six years since we’ve talked.

She is just the same.

Her laugh took me back to those days at school where we’d play endless rounds of elastics.

And to her house where she had a pool and a trampoline.
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I loved her house.

Her parents were cool.

They took us along to gambling parties with huge jars of one cent coins.

One night we made these wild candle lantern things by dropping hot candle wax in water… or at least that’s my vague recollection.

It was so nice to see her again that we’ve made a pact to catch up properly next time I’m in town.

I can’t wait.

Is it my imagination

Or is my daughter beautiful?

My daughter is 12

Girl you are so gorgeous I think we might have to become Amish.
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Only 12!

Colour version on Flickr

Goodbye girls

What a week!

Two funerals – which to be fair were both uplifting in their own ways.  An odd mixture of celebration and sadness and seeing people at their most real.

I do like this trend of personal funerals rather than the traditional church burials – you really feel you know the person.

As for mine?

I don’t care.

Cremate me in a cardboard box and play Yo-Yo Ma’s Bach Cello Suite 1 as you throw my ashes off the ridge at Ennuin (or wherever),  that’d do for me.  It’s up to you. Funerals are for the living not the dead. 

I stopped to smell the roses on the way to work one day this week.  That’s what funerals do for you.

Smelling the roses

It didn’t smell but it did look pretty.

I wasn’t going to talk about funerals today, but I guess they have been a big part of this week.

My crazy protein diet is still on.

Tomatoes and bacon for breakfast – my favourite breakfast and one I rarely have because… well it’s bacon. 

But bacon is protein and therefore allowed.

I’m losing weight.

The girls are going.

Gee it’s been fun having them.  I can see some lingerie purchases will soon be necessary.

Sigh.

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I might even be able to bear to buy some scales.

In other news, the other day I was in the city and came across a Free Iran protest.

This I could tell from the banners. 

All the speeches were in Arabic so can’t tell you exactly what the protest is about.

It made me feel good to be an Australian.

How we allow everyone to have their moment to speak publically about issues they care about.

I think we’d all like a free Iran.

So it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow… have any plans?

I’m planning a visit to the beauty parlour – an annual overhaul?

I do hate going and have people fuss over me.

Yes I realise that that makes me less of a woman.

Let me check my care factor… oh… zero.

So I’m stealing myself for some major fuss.

Standby for a sleeker, browner, glossier Cellobella.

Just like me, but better.

A most enjoyable funeral

That was what a senior member of the congregation said today after the funeral of the dad of one of my best friends.

And it was an enjoyable funeral.

Jeremy

This is the grandson who looked so grown up and cool in his pink shirt and stipey pants.

I guess the reason why the service was so lovely was because it was so personal.

My brave beautiful friend spurned the lecturn and sat down on the edge of the catafalque and created an instantly intimate atmosphere while she told us some things about her dad.

His philosophies, his habits, his life.

She was engaging, at times funny and she painted a portrait of her dad that all of us could take with us.

Then her ex stood up and did a more formal eulogy.

It was the perfect balance.

Instead of flowers, a copy of The Guardian (I think it was) was put on the coffin. In case he might like to do the crossword.

Afterward, we went to a gorgeous restaurant for lunch and to catch up.

I felt weirded out.

First because the funeral had taken place where my dear friend H had had his service and I was sitting with the same two fabulous girls I was sitting with then.

It collapsed time a bit.

It felt odd.
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And also I think because I have another funeral on Friday.

Someone who I knew quite well.

Someone who I saw in hospital the day before he died.

I guess I’m in a vulnerable place.

Man – talk about a rollercoaster of feelings this week.

Nom noms

I like funerals though… except for the fact that someone has died of course.

I like what they do for people.

How they bring people together.

How the music lifts people’s souls – both living and one presumes the dead as well.

I love to see how people handle death.

Each one is so different.

Each one, in its own way, special.

But one a week is enough.

More than enough.

Crazy diet days

Alright enough already.

Too many people have told me about the protein diet where you eat protein only for three days and then have high protein after that, one day off a week, 10,000 steps a day… yeah yeah I hear ya.

Well I’m going to try it.

Stirling Bridge

At this point I would have put in a photo of me at my skinniest as inspiration… but I couldn’t find one… so this is a photo of me aged about 8 (and my bro): “Hmmm…” I’m thinking, “protein… ”

Anyway day one worked out okay.

I walked down to my favourite deli to get some sliced meat for lunch and realised I had left my wallet at home.

The 10,000 steps just became doable.

So on this diet, you’re supposed to not eat for an hour after eating, and then you have to eat again within three.

Well I’m just not good at keeping to time unless I’m on air…

I was so hungry when I got home.

Hungry and a little bit sick I think.

Anyway Groover, bless him, had found the lowest carb meal he could possibly find in Delicious and made it for me.
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How yummy does that look?

Not as yummy as it tasted.

Unfortunately I wasn’t allowed to eat the salad because it’s not protein and I’m on protein only for three days.

Sigh.

Day one and I break the diet.

A small, tiny transgression surely…

Anyway after dinner I really did feel sick – so I’m not sure whether this protein only thing really is that flash.

Or maybe I shouldn’t have had that glass of wine.

It wasn’t protein wine.

Sigh again.

Two transgressions.

Drunk on life

This last couple of weeks I’ve realised something profound.

toodyay

Well… profound for me. 🙂

I’ve realised that I’ve made a mental shift from last year.

This year, I’m saying yes to life.

But more than that, for once in my life I feel as if I can set goals and make them happen.

Sure they are not huge goals, but last year at my lowest ebb, I could not even work out what I wanted to do, about anything.

It’s me time.

I guess the archeological dig was the first big thing.

I wanted to go on a scientific expedition – to get the feeling I got when I was 16 up in the Kimberley canoeing down crocodile infested rivers.

Yes that meant leaving my family for a week.

Imagine that.

Going away. On a holiday. Without my family.

!!

It was so empowering to do something just for myself.

Not a business trip. Not a family trip. No obligations to anyone except me.

I felt like I was back at Uni again.

Second – I booked Groover and I into Theatresports workshops (and performances).

I’ve always enjoyed drama but again haven’t done any since Uni.

It is so much fun. I can only think I’m an idiot not to explore this before.

🙂

Third, at work I have realised that what gives me the most job satisfaction and why I have always wanted the job I have now to the metro equivalent is I love being out and about in Western Australia.

I love the landscapes – so different from one end to the next.

I love the people.

I love taking photographs and sharing them online.

I love driving.

The other day driving back from Geraldton, listening to Mumford and Sons (my latest obsession) practically all the way back, it felt so good to be behind the wheel, in charge of my own destiny, winding my way through the coastal heath.

Four and a half hours flew by.

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(Btw – that was four complete run-throughs of the CD plus many repeats of my favourite bits… ah but that is for another post… don’t want to bore you completely.)

I think you can see it in my face.

I feel like I am shining out of every pore.

I am in love with my life.

And I have so much energy.

Look at me.

Here at 6am on a Sunday morning blogging!

What’s up with that?

I feel fantastic and I can only hope that people around me can soak some of that up.

Hmm reading that back it sounds a bit manic.

I promise you I’m not a manic depressive.

Just drunk on life.

Which is a lot better than being hungover.

Oh I must tell you about last night before I leave you today.

Groover and I went out with some friends to the Oxford Hotel – nice makeover by the way guys.

Getting ready I was quietly going mental – all my clothes seemed so old and the girls going along were half my age.

In fact add their ages together and you get my age.

Gulp.

Anyway I pulled out an old but transparent top and wore my red bra underneath.

Yes a little bit racy but what’s the point of being slightly overweight and having a kick arse cleavage if you don’t take it out for a spin now and again?

Anyway long story short – I felt great – and even better when I heard the (was it surprise?) in one of the guys’ voice – You look hot tonight!

Yeah I did.

Take that young 20 somethings!

But maybe that was my “yes” light shining through.

I feel… dangerous.

Watch out.

A religious experience

Where do you think this church is?

It could be in Europe – a sunny part obviously – it could be in South America or Mexico.

It’s in Mullewa, about an hour east of Geraldton in the midwest.

On the cross

Birds on the Belfry

Afternoon light

Gargoyle

Sunset in Mullewa

Correllas on the Cross

Coming across this church as the sun set on Wednesday was surreal.

I had driven up with the new manager of the Geraldton station, he’s been in the UK for the last couple of decades so we took the inland route to familiarise him with the midwest.

It had been a long drive, meeting some of the locals and we were way behind our frankly unrealistic schedule.

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We’d had to stop just before Mullewa to wait for some sheep to cross the road.

Sheep crossing the road

We were tired, it was dusty and dry and I’m sure he was overwhelmed with the scale of the new job ahead of him.

As we drive into town we see the belfry.

We had to stop.

It was as if we had stepped through a portal to Mexico.

I was waiting for a tumbleweed to roll past.

Both of us are keen photographers.

We whipped out our point and clicks and between us must have taken a hundred photos.

Oh for a DSLR!

It honestly felt as if we had traveled across the world.