Andrea Edwards

Andrea T Edwards CSP is the Digital Conversationalist, She is a globally award-winning B2B communications professional with over 20 years of experience, Andrea speaks on social leadership, content marketing and integrity in the digital age to professionals around the world.

Living in an old age advertising market

Turning 40 was a bit of a kick in the proverbial nuts – I mean when you start telling people you’re in your 40s you are starting to get and feel old. You notice differences in your skin elasticity, parts of your body ache all the time, wrinkles start multiplying, and Botox becomes a more attractive option. Combine that with living in Noosa, and while this town covers all age and socio-economic groupings, one of the most powerful communities is the retirees. Retirees come to Noosa because it’s stunningly beautiful and the old age/retirement home options are second to none – I mean you can have your own personal chef while sitting on a balcony overlooking the ocean. Definitely the place to come when you are no longer capable of wiping your own arse – however that is the point I’ve decided I’ll be happy to check out of this life or have no memory so I won’t care. This demographic, in Noosa anyway, tends to be very well heeled (there’s a lot of millionaire’s here), and therefore, there is a significant advertising focus for this nest egg of spending money. Steve’s parents left recently, but while here, they thought it would be funny to pick up the “Sunshine Coast Seniors Newspaper.” So we had to have a look! Front page there’s massive advert entitled “Dentures Driving you Mad?” The artwork is beautiful. Then it goes on to financial care for retirees, a $100 payout if you buy an electronic wheelchair from “Scooters and Mobility,” there’s some stunningly comfortable shoe options available for the ladies, quality hearing aid options from a variety of suppliers, a plethora of retirement community adverts, more mobile scooters, as well as tilting beds, tilting chairs, pool and bath hoists (which look remarkably like sex swings), walkers, stair lifts, and you can even be part of a university memory loss and dementia study. Cool. Of course funeral homes and funeral directors get a good stash of advertising space, and the obituary pages are extensive, but before your time comes, you’re encouraged to go on a cruise and play bridge, gamble at the local RSL club, enjoy the scheduled Christmas concerts coming up, and stuff yourself full of vitamins perfect for brittle bones and worn out bodies. I have no issue with retirees I should add – hey we’re all heading there no matter what we think – but I do have an issue living in a town where everywhere I look are reminders of what I’ve got to look forward to. Every shopping area has hearing aid clinics, X-rays for horrible maladies, wheelchair servicing shops, old age communities, frock shops for seniors, and there is not a single shop in this town that doesn’t advertise discounts for senior citizens. I know I’m going to get old, or at least hopefully live as long as I want to, but I can’t keep living in a town that reminds me every day of the destination. It’s going to come when it comes, but I can’t help but think that if I’m made constantly aware of it, then it’s only going to come faster. So leaving Noosa is a priority for us. Not just because of this, but it’s definitely one of my reasons. I am not going to get older any faster than I have to, and I’m more motivated now to stay young for as long as possible in my body, but even more determined to stay young in my mind. I reckon my little lads will help with that – I’m certainly hoping so, because I never want to become irrelevant to them, or an old bag with ignorant fixed opinions in their minds anyway. Wish me luck? Yours, without the bollocksAndrea

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Who decides world’s most handsomest man and is handsomest even a word?

I saw an advert the other day for an interview with The World’s Most Handsomest Man, and up pops this debonair looking chap in an Armani suit. Now while I’ve got to say he probably fits the traditional image of a good looking bloke, he certainly isn’t my cup of tea. Certainly handsome, but I definitely like the rugged manly types. Naturally, I had to do a bit of research and find out what it’s all about. I’m not sure if it’s even the same competition I saw advertised, but based on my research, the person won the 2010 “World’s Most Handsomest Man” is Spain’s Guillermo Garcia. Click on the title and you can check him out. We’ll call him Gui for ease. So Gui has some rather gay looking photos on the Website, and he’s obviously worked out, but I think his sideys look a bit muffy, and his sharp long features are almost too perfect. I should be kind though, even if he isn’t my style, because I would look foolish if I denied that he is a good looking fellow. Whenever I come across beauty pageants, it’s alright to admit that I’m always pretty curious about the type of people that enter – men and women. It’s important to state right now that I am not of the opinion that they are all brainless and pretty and not much else, but still, it can’t be much fun being in a competition of this calibre? I mean, imagine agreeing to be judged on every aspect of your person – inside and out – you’ve got to have brick walls of confidence I reckon. According to his profile on the Website “Guillermo Garcia Becerril grew up in Zaragoza, northern Spain. With a degree in Business and Marketing, Guillermo wants to become a TV presenter and to establish his own fashion agency. His hobbies include football, playing piano, and photography. He is also considered as gym-addict. In November 28, 2009, Guillermo won the Mister Spain 2009 title. Guillermo, who stands 6’3.5″ tall, represented his country in Mister World 2010 pageant in South Korea. “Persist and meet your challenges” is his personal motto.” That’s lovely isn’t it? Tall, sporty yet arty, ambitious, motivated, educated, and from one of my favourite Spanish cities. Going through some of the entrants, there’s lots and lots of pretty boys with “magnumesuqe” pouts (aka Zoolander). I have to say that Mr. Serbia stands out for his pouty mouth and underpants/braces combo. Mr. Kuwait definitely had some stuffing in his main photo as was later proven with other less bulbous jock shots. Mr Russia only got five votes – probably due to the density of his blue white skin. Mr Philippines looks like a baby compared to the other blokes. Mr Ireland starts off well until you get to his S&M shots. The jock ripping Joshua from the US needs to enter Mr. Universe – the muscles! And saucy Mr. New Zealand – is that really the best the country had to offer? He does offer some pube viewing tho. Oh I could go on. But what do you reckon? Are these sorts of guys your thing? Who would you have picked? Did they get the result right? Who was your tackiest choice? And have you had fun having a gander at the Website? Kept me busy for a wee while. Although the reality is, there needs to be a competition for chicks like me. Big hunky men, with big muscles, big hearts, and most importantly, mega thighs… oh wait, I’ve got one of them at home. Thankfully I found my most handsomest man – here’s hoping everyone finds theirs! Yours, without the bollocksAndrea

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Cracking Yarn – “Open” by Andre Agassi

I’m not much of a tennis fan. I used to play it as a kid, but once my gargantuan mammories sprung to life, running sports very quickly took a back seat. I’ve enjoyed watching tennis sometimes, and a posh day at Wimbledon in the corporate seats was enjoyed (along with many champagnes), as well as sharing the day with the yobbos at the US Open way up in the stands. But I mainly enjoyed both because I got to perve at Pat Rafter’s legs at Wimbledon, and Venus Williams legs at the US Open. Both come highly recommended. Anyways, I bought “Open” for Steve, ‘cos I reckon it’s the sort of book that could give him an inspired boot up the arse as he’s not so encouraged by life at the moment, and after weeks of it sitting on his bedside table, and with me needing a break from my meaning of the universe books, I decided to give it a gander. Well let me say, this is one hell of a book. On the front cover it claims to be one of 50 books in the world you can’t put down and it is truly is. Andre is one of those public figures that many of us think we know, but we don’t. He talks a lot about the public perception of him in the media and the statements and qualities attributed to his character and fashion sense, but as he says, he didn’t even know who he was, so he sure was mystified by the facts as imparted by the media. A healthy reminder not to believe everything we read in the media once again. His marriage to Brooke Shields was rather interesting and I’ve got to say she didn’t come across as a particularly deep or meaningful person – not blaringly stated, just inferred. When they met her star was definitely on a downward trajectory and only rose after their relationship took off. Not that he takes the credit I should point out. The thing that really amazed me is his childhood – he was forced to play tennis before he was even born, because his father was determined that one of his children would be a world number one tennis player. A foreigner, his Dad was brutal, and I wouldn’t want a childhood like that for anything. But he talks about his relationship with his mother and father in an honest way and by the end of the book, you can see that there is a level of understanding and no judgement, but it definitely will not be the way he raises his kids. One thing that was probably more surprising is that he hated tennis – HATED it! But he got so far along in the game that he ended up having no other options. He dropped out of school very young, and was on the road until he was 35 hitting that ball. Imagine doing something you hated for so long? Not to mention the intense physical pain he was constantly in with a back issue, but also because tennis is brutal on the body. I didn’t realise how bad it was until I read this book – yikes! Andre is a cool dude I reckon. He’s now a loving husband and father with Steffi Graff (she prefers Stephanie by the way – another media twist), and he’s doing some amazing work in his hometown of Las Vegas, helping poor kids get a better education. I can’t help but admire him more (even though I always liked him in the game) because he comes across as honest all the way through, eloquent even without an education and he didn’t seem to hide much – well we’ll never really know if he did, but it didn’t come across like he did. I have to say, I still don’t understand what really motivated him, you never really get that point clearly, but it sure was an impressive read and I certainly didn’t put it down. I don’t know if it was inspirational though, but certainly an honest account of a very public life. The main point for me, that I took away from reading it is that all we should focus on is being honest to ourselves all the time, or whenever possible if you can’t do it all the time. Yours, without the bollocksAndrea  PS: he’s a bit of a spunk don’t you think? PPS: his hair issues were pretty interesting too.

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Where do our souls go?

I’ve just finished a book “Journey of Souls” by Michael Newton, and it’s about where souls journey after they leave our body when we die. It’s a fascinating perspective, but if you’re not into this, please feel free to stop reading now. For those who don’t know, I’ve always been interested in what’s going on “out there,” and while I know I’ll never get to the bottom of it, I definitely have a yearning to understand as much about “the Universe” as I can – the really really big picture. So I read a lot, have successfully learnt to meditate (at last) and try to spend time with interesting people who are also asking similar questions. But getting back to the book. The essence of the book discusses numerous stories of people under hypnosis and the “stages” they go through when immediately leaving the body after death. Then, once in the soul “world,” how they learn and grow, how they reflect on the life experience they’ve just had, and then the process of coming back to a new life/body and why they choose the life they choose. I suppose the thing that got me about this was a comment that all of us are here, in this life and every life we’ve ever lived before, to learn a specific lesson, or to experience something very specific that gives us insight and a chance for growth. It’s not always nice the lessons we choose, but that’s not the point, as all souls are seeking advancement and you can only advance by experiencing the full spectrum of emotions and experiences. In the book, for example, one person had lived a life as a physically strong Nordic Viking in one life and later as a little girl who had her legs crushed and was crippled for the rest of her life. One was abandoned in this life only to find that the person who abandoned him was the same person he condemned to death in a previous life. There are lots of case studies in this book, which makes it even more personal and revealing I suppose. But it’s gotten me thinking. What is my “soul’s purpose” in this life? Why did I choose my parents? Why am I like I am – always on the go, moving and changing things, ambitious but not in a traditional way, in a rush, curious, never satisfied and wanting more – not money, just growth I suppose – and then why did my boys choose me as their Mum? What’s our connection? And I know that Steve and I are soul mates (that was a foregone conclusion the night we met), but what has been our past connection? Actually I did a past life regression not long ago and Steve and I were lovers then – he the woman and me the man – me a warrior of course. It’s interesting stuff. So am I doing what I need to do in this life to grow? Am I working towards what my soul set out to achieve when it took up in this carcass? Or have I missed my purpose? Am I supposed to learn to be calmer? And if so, is that why my boys chose me as their mum to give me the hardest patience lesson of them all? I mean many people I know have chilled out kids, I don’t, which isn’t a surprise, but is that why? Are they part of my tool belt for learning the lesson to chill and be more peaceful? I’m trying boys, but you certainly push me over the edge sometimes – thanks!!! Or is it compassion that I’m supposed to learn? But I think I’m compassionate. Am I supposed to learn the lesson of freedom from society’s constraints? I think I’ve got that down pat and I’m working hard to find a new path. Maybe it’s to calm down my frantic mind once and for all and not be in a rush all the time? I don’t know. I obviously need to meditate on that question. But when you think about this stuff, it makes you look at everyone you meet with different eyes. If you think about it, sometimes you meet people who are lazy bastards, who have no drive, no ambition and often you find it hard to understand how they can’t be more driven. However, if you believe in this stuff, maybe that person’s soul decided to have a rest this time round because the last life was so intense? I wonder about people who reincarnate as human monsters, such as most members of the Taliban appear to be. Imagine making that decision? Or the women born into these societies and the horrendous shit they endure? If you consider many of the arguments about souls, the victims were often the perpetrators in past lives and have made a choice to experience the “opposite.” Whereas the perpetrators in this life might have been victims in a past life and need to “see” things from the other side? Who knows… Of course, some souls decide to be born with a disability, understanding that life will be harder for them and that, by making this decision, their goal is to grow beyond physical limitations – a tough one. Some are born into abusive situations to learn the lessons there. Some are born into incredible wealth and power, loving and consuming it all for themselves, or maybe in this life, they learn to be generous with their wealth? Gaining soul “points” I suppose. If you look around your community or the world, many people have made hard life choices with the world in its current state huh? One of the things I’ve been coming to understand in the last 12 months is that there is no right or wrong, there are only perceptions. We all decide what is wrong or right every day, many times a day, but I’m coming to the conclusion that all I need

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Ladies who Lunch

I’m not the sort who lunches very often. I generally don’t enjoy it and it always takes away my time which needs to be focused elsewhere. Yesterday I was asked by my neighbor to lunch because her Mum was in town, and it was asked in a way I couldn’t refuse – bummer. So for one day, I agreed to be a lady who lunches. We’re living in a resort-style complex while we try to work out what the fuck we’re going to do with our lives, and it’s attached townhouses – three up/two down – it’s perfect for now but we can’t wait to get out. Anyways, we’d been here a month before our neighbors finally spoke to us. It was their boat that got smashed up by the twister I witnessed and the letter I wrote ensured the insurance was paid. They were appreciative and we got our first delivery of chocolates. Then there was a box of chocolates for Halloween, a bottle of champagne for letting them use our garage for their garage sale, and the thoughtful little neighborly gifts kept coming. The lady of the house, who I’ll call Delilah, is an incredibly sweet and thoughtful woman and she’s PASSIONATE about cooking. And boy, can this woman cook. She turned up to Lex’s 4th b’day with a platter of cheese sticks, homemade of course, beautifully wrapped and presented. She really is a lovely giving person. Delilah stood off us for a long time as I said, but now she has befriended us, saying we’re the best neighbors she’s ever had – amazing considering the hubbub that must come from our quarters. She’s a very strange lady tho. She doesn’t speak with an Australian accent – it’s kind of a posh international accent that doesn’t win many favors around these parts – I think it’s just too weird for most Aussies. She dresses the same every day – pressed white shorts, a polo-ish shirt tucked in and belted, and she’s always donning Italian loafers that she buys on holidays when in her husbands’ home country. Delilah wears too much make-up and in her own special way is perfectly quaffed at all times. The thing that makes her extra strange is she is very tall and VERY VERY skinny. You know sometimes the way people look makes it hard to look at them? She is one of those folks. I don’t know why she has taken to me – maybe my time in Singapore endears me to her because she spent her teens there – but she does like me for some reason. I also know why I like her – she’s sweet, nice and even though she’s strange, there’s something in her that’s very endearing – I can honestly say I’ve never met anyone like her, and that appeals to me immensely. But Delilah is intensely lonely. I just know that most people stand right off her because she is so strange to look at and listen to, and I know that she isn’t the sort of person who’s ever had that best buddy to fall back on. She’s replaced the lack of company with ambition, focus and a relentless drive to improve herself. Hey she speaks six languages! Delilah is 48 and married to an Italian Australian of 63. All of their friends are in his age group and she looks older because of this. He’s been married and had kids before and they hate her. She can’t even go to her dying mother-in-laws bed because of the hatred. Being a step child, I wish I could say to them grow up, accept your “step mother” because your Dad has decided that she makes him happy – it’s time to get on with it. The relationship with her “step kids” is ugly and ostracizes her even more. It makes me feel sad. But yesterday I meet her mum. The first thing I notice is the teeth – my word, that woman needs braces. I’ve never seen so many teeth bunched up in someone’s mouth. She lost everything 10 years ago, and four years ago she lost her husband who couldn’t cope with losing everything. They’d always been rich, now she’s on a single pension and cleaning other people’s toilets to make ends meet. She isn’t bitter by life, but I didn’t feel too much joy either. She wants to find a man and I hope she does. Everyone needs company. As Delilah was dashing away to get the homemade cheese, homemade bread, homemade pickles, and everything else that was yummy and homemade (except the salad dressing, which was surprisingly in a bottle), Mum told me her story. And she told me Delilah’s story. When Delilah was 15 she was offered a scholarship to UWC in Singapore and her mum knew that she had to let her go and take advantage of this opportunity. However, once Delilah left, her Mum said that was the last time she saw her little girl. Delilah came back anorexic and 30 years later, she still is. Her mum worries about her every day and I wonder how anyone could suffer for so long from such a debilitating disease and can’t even imagine what’s going on inside her head and how she perceives herself. Imagine 30 years of anorexia? Imagine the state of her bones? Her overall health? I asked them both if they were living the life they thought they’d be living at this point in their lives and both of them said no, but you’ve got to keep fighting. Delilah recently lost her job too – she’s feeling very lost as her career has been almost as important as her husband. She never had kids because of her career and while I can’t imagine her frail body being able to carry a child, it made me feel sad that here she was, directionless and unemployed, because that has been the core of her identity and her reason for living.

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I just want to elaborate on the vagina discussion one more time…

It seems a few are interested, so I wanted to add to my earlier blogs on a disturbing trend amongst young girls these days – that of getting ones’ vagina surgically “neatened.” Boys, I know I’ve mentioned the V word, but it would be great to get your perspective here. Anyways, I posted a blog about a trebling in young gals getting their vag’s prettied up, but I didn’t mention that this was only statistics for publicly funded operations in Australia, aka Medicare. When factoring in private ops, the stats are at much more frightening proportions, with one private practitioner suggesting the increase could be 10-fold in the last decade – yikes!!!! Now surgery, for any reason, ain’t fun, so can you imagine the self image issues going on out there amongst young girls to make them do something like this? But here’s the question that keeps cropping up in my mind and where I want the boys opinion. Do boys want girls with pre-pubescent looking vags? Because if they do, isn’t that even more frightening? As most young girls aren’t gobbling up all the porn they can get their hands on, unlike their male counterparts, the only other reason I can see for the increase in surgery is due to all of the waxing going out there. As more girlie bits are revealed due to less camouflage, I believe this could be a reason for the rearrangement of the flange. Oh and my porn reference was purely because the girls aren’t necessarily seeing the plastic vags on display in these movies and therefore, this can’t be the cause of them wanting to change things… unless their menfolk are suggesting it? Or are more young girls watching porn? Whatever the reason, I do think there seems to be a very deep seated issue going on here but this stuff isn’t new for females throughout history. I mean women in China were considered delicate and feminine if they bound their feet – if you ever read “Wild Swans” you’ll remember the horrendous description of this ‘beautification” procedure. But then, women used to remove their bottom ribs to get a smaller waist in the Western world, and of course there’s female genital mutilation. Oh sorry, there’s also skin whitening products, some of which have so many poisons in them, the women are breaking out in cancers all over their bodies, because you look richer when you’re fairer – bollocks! I could go on and on and on. The desire for beauty has always been bollocks and unrealistic. I often wonder when are we going to get back in touch with what’s important in life? Such as our minds and our hearts? So many women suffer so much shit all around the world, and yet we spend more time, money and effort on cosmetic changes to ourselves, when what we should be doing is saying enough to the beauty industry and taking their power away. Then maybe we could focus our efforts on helping others who really do need a leg up? An idealist? Well nothing wrong with hope. I really thought that Eve Ensler, who wrote and performed “The Vagina Monologues” did an amazing job in bringing the whole ‘let’s talk about vaginas’ to the public domain. But it appears that more needs to be done to get girls back on track and in control once again – in a positive way. Oh and everyone should read this book or see a performance – it will rock your world. Seriously, if girls think they need to tamper with this part of their body to feel beautiful then we have a very serious issue that needs to be handled and handled bloody quickly. I’m just so thankful I don’t have a daughter. It was tough being a teenage girl when I was one, but could you imagine what it’s like now? “How was your weekend?” said Stella. “Great. I got my flaps reduced and righty is now the same size as lefty. I also got some of my clitoral hood reduced and when it’s healed, the doctor said I should definitely consider a reduction in my labia minora,” exclaimed an excited Brittany. “Oh you’re so lucky! My mum is adamant I can’t get any surgery done on my vag. She’s so yesterday!” I thought I’d take the opportunity to brainstorm some suggestions on tackling this issue? Any thoughts to add? And boys, seriously, it would be GREAT to hear your thoughts. Here are some ideas to help women get more in touch with (ooh err) and accepting of their snatches as nature intended them to look:   Vaginal sculptures on the main streets of cities – kind of like the cow expo – with the same idea of being decorated by local artists? Maybe Eve Ensler (aka Vagina Monologues) could do something for young women? A funny movie, article for teen magazines that goes global? A famous photographer could do a snatch exhibition – Annie Lebowitz maybe? The purpose being that we’re all different but the same, because let’s face it, we don’t look at our own often, let alone anyone else’s – so maybe an equaliser? Kids TV shows could do a fair bit here, maybe incorporating a story line about the issue – I mean talking about it is the best way after all.. one of the young things on “Home and Away” or “Buffy” could go through a snatch crisis??? What else? What do you reckon? How can we stop this voluntary female circumcision? Because that’s essentially what it is, minus the removal of the clitoris! Yours, without the bollocks Andrea

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A four year olds’ shake down

Lex is a remarkable little lad for many reasons, but one of the things I love about him is he really loves and cares for his toys. While most kids trash everything they’re given, Lex is actually quite precious about his stuff and if you accidentally throw one of his favourite toys in the water or break it, hang on tight, because he ain’t gunna be happy. Lightening McQueen is prized most of all… On Saturday we had a birthday party for him – he’s a big boy of four now. The party started in the pool and when all the kids seemed sufficiently shagged, we gathered everyone up and headed back home for pizza. Within a very short time, the house was strewn with toys, but remarkably, all of the kids spread out and played, pretty much leaving each other alone. It was relatively peaceful for quite some time, much to the surprise of all the “grown ups” in attendance. However Lex’s reaction to the violation of his toys was to stand back and quietly observe. He wasn’t happy about everyone hooking in, but he also didn’t carry on either, which was a relief. Most four year old birthdays I’ve been too end in tears, so we were proud of our little man for being so mature about it all. As the party waned and little people got tired, Lex handed out ‘the goodie bags,’ thanked everyone for coming and sent them on their way. However, before final cuddles and kisses were dispatched, Lex checked them out top to bottom, patted them down, removed any toy belonging to him, put it away and then came back before saying his final farewells. Building goggles were removed from two heads, a tape measure clipped off one child’s t-shirt, pockets were checked and once satisfied, Lex said goodbye and quickly closed the door behind them. It was actually quite amazing watching Lex over his birthday weekend. Before his operation, he would have been totally blown away by such a gathering and the noise of it would have been too much for him to cope with. In his life pre-grommets we would have found Lex far away from the action, hiding somewhere, playing in isolation or with Jax, if he wasn’t clinging to us. It seemed that compressed ear drums made “mass kiddie noise” too overwhelming for our little man. We have no idea “what” he heard and often wonder how horrible school must have been for him, especially when everyone was inside on a rainy day. Poor love. But now he’s that new kid everyone told us we’d get after surgery. He’s confident, speaking more and more, in the middle rather than on the outskirts, he’s not as shy, and he’s getting funnier every day in a Benny Hill kind of way. The cap on his development seems to be this past weekend. We honestly think his b’day celebrations have really helped Lex gain a tremendous amount of confidence because, for three days, everywhere he looked, there were people who really love him, all there to honour him on his special day. It’s been an awesome time. Watching your kids grow up and mature into their character and spirit is a pretty special thing for any parent to witness. We have known all along that Lex is a sweet, sensitive and an ambitious little man, so the past few months where everyone has been suggesting he might have a problem, even after we found out about his ears, has been pretty tedious. We’ve had aspergers, autism, and a bunch of other comments thrown at us by people inexperienced to comment, but all along, Steve and I knew it was not the case. It’s hard though, because you can’t ignore people making these comments, especially as it’s not coming from just one person. You can’t help but doubt yourself, because when it starts, it becomes a torrent. But I stood resolute. I have known that little man from the day he was born and I knew he was OK – he just needed to hear. Now the teachers at his new school, who do seem to know what they’re talking about, say he’s great, nothing that can’t be trained out of him like most kids his age. My word a burden has been lifted! Imagine if we weren’t as strong and confident in our child? Who knows how we would have tackled this situation? And you know what, the other thing that really shits me is the schools are motivated to get kids diagnosed because then the government provides free teachers and that means free extra support…. it’s not right what’s going on out there, it’s really not! As we always knew, our darling boy is great. He’s going to have a very interesting life because he’s an intense fella, but we just love watching him grow up and the relief that we can now communicate with him is tremendous… We’re not there yet, but it’s a big improvement from a month or two ago. I tell you this parenting malarkey sure does get intense sometimes! Yours without the bollocksAndrea

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I still miss Steve Irwin

We went to Australia Zoo today. It’s Lex’s 4th birthday so we thought, what better way to celebrate it than go there, especially as it’s just up the road? We went for the first time about six months ago and it really is a beautiful zoo. Everyone you interact with around the animals is so passionate and that is one aspect that makes it special. But of course, the thing that makes it really special for me was a magnificent human being – you might know of him? Steve Irwin. When the news came out that he died, I cried and cried, and then I kept on crying for three days. And every now and again I’ll still get choked up about it… Steve (my hubby) was a little bit shocked by my reaction to the news (in fact, I was a little bit shocked,) because I felt such a deep sense of loss when it happened, and it felt like a really mortal blow for mankind – is that too dramatic? But then, I know I’m not alone in how I feel. The reality is I just loved him. He was so passionate and excited and dorky – he was beautiful! For me Steve (and a few others) represented balance in a world where we seem to almost accept anger and hatred. Every time you turn on the news people are hurting each other on both a large and a small scale – in fact people hurt those closest to them every day and that causes me an element of despair, because if we can’t even get on with those we love, or loved once, what’s the chance of ever seeing world peace? I just felt that Steve Irwin contributed to giving our world balance, by showing people that there was another way to live. Steve showed the world that it is great to feel true passion for something, no matter the critics, and while we aren’t all built to be wild life warriors, imagine if you found your “thing” and lived and breathed it every day in a way that really contributed to the betterment of the world? It doesn’t even need to be much, but living your life with passion, waking up every day excited to get going… that’s one of the gifts he gave us. A lot of people write about this stuff in self help books, but Steve was a living embodiment of it every day of his life. He was a special man. On both visits to the zoo, it’s hard to ignore Steve. Everywhere you go there are pictures, images, words and reminders of the great man. I have to admit that a few times today (and the last time) I got pretty choked up, realising that I still miss him and can’t help continuing to feel that the world lost someone truly great the day he died. I wish his family well in pushing on with his legacy. It’s definitely not going to be an easy road to travel, but the kids are working hard at it and I truly do wish them the best. Thanks for the hope you gave Steve. Many remain inspired by you and every day I work hard to keep hold of my passions and remain committed to never ever doing anything that doesn’t make me spring out of bed every morning with a big smile on my face. There’s no point to that now is there? We had a great day today. The boys loved it and there’s a little bit of magic at work in the world when you have the opportunity to watch children wrapped up in the wonder of seeing and interacting with animals. The ice cream treat was pretty special too – especially the stress levels of English Grandma and Grandpa struggling with the messiness factor… Yours, without the bollocksAndrea

I still miss Steve Irwin Read More »

Conan, Jay Leno, Dave Letterman… they’re all shit!!!

Oh terrific, Conan is back from the wilderness and doing another late night show – AWESOME. So it’s back to what it was and once again we have Letterman, Leno or Conan to choose from. Well I choose sleep because when faced with American late night shows, I’d rather slash my wrists than waste another second of my life on them. Isn’t anyone else tired of the shit? I mean they stand on stage and talk bollocks for too long AND they’re not even funny – not forgeting the drum roles and cymbal crashes PUUUURLEASE!!! All the while promoting these fantastic guests that are coming on, and about 10 ad breaks later, the reason you watched the show in the first place appears for about 10 seconds of nothingness and then you’ve got another 10 ad breaks before anyone else interesting appears. I don’t think I’m much of a fan to be honest…. Yours, without the bollocksAndrea

Conan, Jay Leno, Dave Letterman… they’re all shit!!! Read More »