Monthly Archives: December 2012
With all the effort that theme parks go to naming roller coasters suitably terrifying things, from ‘Thunderbolt’ to ‘Impending Doom’ to ‘Twisty Turly Death Spin’, I really think they should just get back to basics and just call one “Life.”
On Sunday morning I woke up to the news that we made our pozible campaign target – and then some! I was absolutely elated. The best Christmas pressie ever. THANK YOU ALL FROM EVERY PIECE OF ME.
On Monday morning, Christmas eve, I picked up my Mum (grandma) to bring her to our place for Christmas lunch. I knew something was up. She’d been for an ultrasound the week before and the doctor had called her to ask her to come in this very morning to get the results. As soon as I walked in the door I asked her what the doctor said. She smiled and said “Oh, it’ll keep.” My heart sunk. I’d had a bad feeling about it anyway, and I suspected that if it really was bad news, she wouldn’t tell me, it being Christmas and all (this is the woman who lied to me about having non-Hodgkins lymphoma a few years back because she didn’t want us to delay our trip to Canada!) A few minutes later I finally pried it out of her.
She is so positive. I am so numb.
We had the most amazing – if hyper emotional on my part – Christmas. We ate, we laughed, we did puzzles, we saw Christmas lights, we held hands in bed, we made wishes, we talked, we opened presents, we hugged. It was almost perfect.
So here I sit, typing this up at Woodford, at the tail end of what has probably been the biggest year of my life, celebrating the incredible highs and not even close to processing this massive blow.
Am I being too dramatic? I bloody hope so. I hope it’s all going to work out, she’ll be totally fine and I’ll look back on this very blog post and smile at my silliness in feeling the dread.
I really hope so.
But for now, I’m burying my head in the sand (at least for this week) in Woodford Folk Festival.
It’s a mighty fine place to do just that.
(Gigs are over here if you wanna check em out.)
Did you actually read that?
WE HAVE A BAND FOR WONDERLAND AT WOODFORD FOLK FESTIVAL!
I cannot believe it is happening – especially in light of the fact that the show itself is indeed about wonderful things happening – but in the past week, I have somehow managed to join forces with a drummer/guitarist, bass guitarist, saxophonist and keyboardist to do some musical comedy numbers AND improvised songs as part of the Wonderland show!
Excuse me while I geek out for a moment.
That these people are blisteringly talented individuals is a godsend. That they are all hilarious and awesome and nice and bloody great to work with PLUS I get to share the show with them AND Betty and the Betties, some of my favourite ladies on earth, well seriously…whatever happens, for me selfishly, THIS SHOW IS A DREAM COME TRUE.
I’ve honestly always wanted a band to do improv and comedy and jamming stuff with onstage but it seemed so “pie in the sky” ish that I never took it seriously enough to make it happen. But now it’s just fallen into place and I’m completely losing my mind about it with excitement.
After brainstorming last night with a couple of the gang after our Betties rehearsal, I was so inspired I stayed up way into the wee hours and wrote and wrote and wrote. It was honestly like I was possessed by some force telling me to not dare stop in case I woke up in the morning and the well was dry. This has NEVER happened to me before. I lost all track of time. I think it must have been three that I finally caved in and slept. I sure feel it now. BUT…I have a show!
Now to tweak, polish, rehearse AND finish writing that one pesky closing number.
I cannot wait to perform it though, and whenever I’ve felt like that about a new song/bit or whatever, like I am literally ITCHING to get up onstage and share it with the world, it’s been a good thing.
Not many sleeps now!
P.S. We have only 6 days left on our pozible campaign and I have the stomach ulcer to show for it. A few folks have told me they’re a bit confused by what this pozible business actually is! Honestly, the easiest way to wrap your head around it is to go to our page on the site, but the Reader’s Digest version is this:
- it’s not a donation site, you don’t “donate” anything (because we aren’t a charity!), rather it’s about pre-buying goods and services (like tickets to our early 2013 shows both in Brissie and Adelaide, DVDs, merch, etc.) so that we can afford to do the project (which in this case, involves us touring Wonderland to Adelaide Fringe!)
- if you go onto the site, you’ll see the different prices of everything you can get. For instance, pledging $30 will get you a DVD, $50 a DVD plus show ticket, right up to a $2000 business package!
- we don’t get ONE CENT of the money pledged unless our campaign is successful. Your pledge is not processed (i.e. your card isn’t charged) until we are successful, which, touch wood, will be in six days time!) We are currently at $3320 of our $5000 goal. If we don’t make it, we get nothing.
Hope that makes sense!
Cruising. Coming back to the fam. Rehearsing. Writing the new show. Gigging (a shiteload!). Drowning in a messy house. Attempting to bake gingerbread houses and failing gloriously. Family Christmas parties.
I AM ONE SPOILED TURD.
Seriously. My sister asked me recently “how come you didn’t post much on Facebook while you were away?” Honestly, the truth is that I feel like if I do that, posting pics of what an incredible time I’m having (I LOVE cruising, love the audiences, love the travel element, love having somebody make my bed for me and not having to cook a damn thing) then I’m gonna be making people feel bad by rubbing their noses in it.
But…she (and a coupla others) have implored me to share anyway. So…I’m sharing anyway.
Not just cruise pics but pics from the past week or so, which has been wonderfully busy in all the right ways. Seriously. I am so privileged and I don’t want to ever forget it. In light of this week’s horrific headlines I’ve thought about it more than usual. I am so lucky. I am so lucky. I am so lucky.
Would you be interested in more detailed posts about what it’s like cruising? Again, I feel like it actually is so cool and such a world unto itself it would make for some cool posts, but again, there’s that whole “nyah nyah ne nyah nyah” element I feel self-conscious about!
And some just from round here since getting back:
Now off for more.
P.S. Our pozible campaign has only 7 days left. Please if you wanna grab DVDs, show tix, vintage hairstyling sessions & more, please get onboard now!
How’s that Christmas shopping going?
Yeah. Me too.
I’m pretty excited to tell you that the Betties and I have put our good old noggins together and decided that seeing as our pozible campaign finishes literally DAYS before Christmas, we should put together something a little special for our supporters!
So…once our campaign is successful (we are currently at 53% of our total goal) you will receive a gorgeous Betty-fied Christmas e-card sent straight to your inbox, complete with a printable voucher (which will look lovely) to gift to your loved one with deets of the reward. Such a cool – and different – idea for a pressie, with the warm fuzzy bonus of knowing you are supporting artists make a dream a reality. Goodies up for grabs include:
- show tickets (for either Adelaide Fringe or Brisbane Comedy Festival in 2013);
- DVDs (of An Unexpected Variety Show and Wonderland);
- a NEWLY ADDED vintage hair-styling session with our resident hair expert, Bombshell Betty (this would be super fun to do with a friend or two for a big night out!);
- and of course, our cupcake serenades and/or a cabaret/comedy lounge room gig;
So next week I’m heading off on my second set of cruise ship gigs.
I actually really hate being away from my kids. I love them of course, but I also really like them. I enjoy their company. I love being together. Don’t get me wrong, I also have periods where a little break away is the stuff my dreams are made of, but for the most part, I actually really dislike being apart.
Yet sometimes the reality of my career means that we are. I’d love to bring them with me on each and every tour or festival I do (and I do whenever it’s financially possible) but the fact is, it just isn’t always viable. Or allowed. Take for instance, these cruises. I am DYING to be allowed to bring the whole family with me, but right now, as a comedian starting out in that circuit, it’s just not gonna happen. And the money is too good to say no to right now.
Whenever I’m about to head off on a jaunt such as this, I feel myself getting anxious. Fretful. If I were a dog I would be whining. I comfort myself by topping up the grocery supply and writing out chore charts with promises of big rewards for acts of outstanding family help in my absence.
And then I leave…and fret…and eventually settle into the time away by reminding myself that if I spend it being all misery guts, then it really IS a total travesty that we are apart. I need to make it count. I work. I write. I gig. I catch up on sleep. I try to relax and enjoy and savour and focus on all the things I COULDN’T be doing if the kids were with me. Last cruise after my final gig was done I bought myself a pina colada and sat on a hammock.
In other words, I try to make the most of it.
Do I feel guilty leaving them? Absolutely.
But…and it is a big but…I take huge comfort in my own experiences of having a mother who was consistently leaving to go follow her own passions.
I have distinct memories of my mum – a singer – leaving me to go off to gigs. I remember hating it. Missing her. Wanting her to come back. One night at the babysitters’ house I vowed to stay secretly awake in my bed until she returned. Which I did. When she got back the next morning, it was like I’d done a monkey-bar marathon.
But despite all this, I remember her as a wonderful mum. Namely because over-riding the memories of her leaving us to go strut her stuff onstage, are much happier memories of doing awesome stuff together. Baking cookies. Singing. Doing ballet in the front yard. Riding bikes. Going to the beach. Having picnics. She made a massive effort to engage with us. To cuddle us. She loved us and made huge efforts to show it by giving us her time. She left regularly to go sing, sure (and I should also point out that despite my sadness at her leaving, I also had the incredible pride of occasionally going to see her onstage and being able to point and say “that’s my Mummy!”) but when she was with us, she was really WITH us. You know?
I want so desperately to follow her example.
My aunt – a fabulous woman in her own right and a psychologist – introduced to me the concept of “the good enough” parent. The idea being that so long as your parent is “good enough” as far as you perceive it, you will emerge from childhood able to look past the negatives, and still see them as “a good parent.” Bottom line? We don’t need perfect parents. We can’t get perfect parents. Nor do we need to BE perfect parents. Which is lucky, because there is no such thing. We’re all stuffing it up somehow. But coming to terms with the thought that being imperfect is actually okay, so long as you’re being “good enough” in the right places, well, I find that hugely comforting. And liberating. Instead of beating myself up about the crap parts of me as a mother (and there are plenty), I can just get on with being awesome at the bits I think are the most important.
And so it is with the way I’m trying to handle this comedy/parenting combo.
I leave. I come back. And when I do, we bake. We sing. We dance. We go to the beach. We have picnics. We cuddle.
And I cling to the hope that this will be good enough.