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Happy New Year’s Eve to one and all!

2009 has been a challenging 12 months on many levels.  Rather than spend time rehashing issues and setting goals for 2010 (which is quite traditional on Dec 31) I’m  going to link you with five different blog entries you might find entertaining/thought provoking as we traverse this period of change.  They provide wonderful reading.

Then, I’d love to talk about FACEBOOK!

Here’s a list of 5 blog entries from people I know well.  My aim for next year is to read more blogs regularly and get to know the many talented blogstars that inhabit the (dubiously named) blogosphere:

1.  Mother of the Year Award – Amy (from Never True Tales) writes about a wonderful mutual friend, Bert, Ernie and how real life muppets are scary for a kid.

2. Serious Thinking Ahead – from Fiona (at Squirt Baby).  How a mad scientist has taken a break from pipets and bunsen burners to focus on creating a small kid’s clothing business.  She is doing extremely well – proud of you, lady.

3. (Good) Will – Amy is fabulously funny.  Her descent into Twilight addiction is such hilarious reading that it’s prompting me to write a screenplay about a similar reading/movie junkie (with her permission – all names are changed to protect the innocent, of course).  Here, she goes one step too far.

4. Women are from Venus, but Men are still destined to get lost – Sarah from Reflectology recounts the funny story of Eric, an elderly bloke that drove for hours lost in the Aussie outback.  Um, eventually he asked for help.  LOL

5. 24 Years as a Lunatic Fan – Laura (from Reflectology) had me laughing with her recount of tales about fangirling, including YouTube clips of 1985: Melissa. Venezuela’s “Queen of Rock”. Educational, full of the lulz and (in her own words) age inappropriate at times.

Happy New Year reading!

The crux of this post relates to Facebook.  On Christmas Day, my sister passed comment that if Facebook (and mobile phone cameras) had been around ‘in her day’, she may have been tagged in highly amusing photos – and perhaps, in compromising positions!

You may be wondering what conversation preceded this revelation?   A beautiful photo of one of our younger relatives had made its way onto the ‘family section’ of good ol’ Facebook.  Our rello – let’s call her Zephyr – was gorgeously dressed, replete in her sensational youthful skin.  She’s classy and lovely and obviously enjoying herself with a drink . . .

and an extremely CLOSE-UP snog wif a boy wot she fancies.

Apparently a good mate snapped her in the process of spreading the love and tagged her in the pic.  Hence, Zephyr’s passionate JPEG is flagrantly published all over the Facebooks of her aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, PARENTS, GRANDPARENTS!

Ohnoes?  OH YES!   Too much information, you may ask? Well, tis the information age and it’s a photo that will never get old as far as the continuous teasing of Zephyr is concerned!

Being the thoughtful aunt I am, it was my intention to print off the pic of Zephyr with her lips blowing in the breeze of her beloved, enlarge it (the photo, not her beloved) and frame it.  Yes, wrapping it in Christmas paper and popping it in a pile of presents had crossed my mind, but alas!  Ran out of ink and time, so Zephyr didn’t get her Facebook-inspired gift!  She was disappointed, lol

Now in my day . . .

But that story is for another unusual, Veronica Lord-theme entry.

Thank you for the chats here since August.  It’s been fun starting a blog and catching up with people on a regular basis.  I look forward to singing the blues, talking telly, family, friends and writing next year.  Until then, I’ll ‘up the dosage’ and keep stalking my favourite Facebook posts.  Have a great NYE, whatever you do . . . and please?   KEEP yourselves noice for Paparazzi Pics!

Hiya Santa mate,

this is a little story of an 8 year-old girl who is really appreciative about Christmas, but so overtired it’s ridiculous.  Her name is Pip Jones and she comes from a family of millions.  This clan dote on her and her near- 7 year-old sister, Pop.  She is so well loved, but you know that.

Pip Jones has everything she wants – a warm bed, good food, loving peeps, a well-stocked Santa stocking bulging at the seams and presents from her aunts, cousins, grandparents and friends.

In other words, St Nick, she’s hardly struggling for material or emotional attention.

Yesterday in Oz it was Boxing Day.  December 26th is another cause for celebration in this family of gazillions.  It was Pip’s uncle’s birthday – so it required another get-together with cricket game, 2-on-2 basketball, cake, festivities and an arena for over-tiredness.

By 9 pm last night, Pip and Pop Jones were at Feral DEFCON Rating 11 (out of a military standard of 10).

Pip lay on the couch next to me, placed her head in my lap, amped-up Drama-Queen Soprano Pitch and sobbed (spontaneously) “SANTA HATES ME.  He loves Pop Jones better!”

Flabbergasted, I tried to comfort her – although the practical, scrooge-like BRITCH of a woman LONGED to tell her the truth about YOU, St Nick.

“He didn’t bring me a telescope!  It’s all I wanted.  It was on the top of my list.  Pop Jones got everything she listed.  SANTA HATES ME!”

I know you don’t, Santa!

In yours/ours/mine/his collective wisdom, Santa had decided not to bring Pip Jones a telescope as early as October.  You had tried to explain the various reasons why Pip might not receive a refracting telescope, which included logic like:

• 8 YO girls that find it hard to go to sleep anyway (due to thinking about conductivity of electricity, the mummification techniques used in Ancient Egypt, the spectrum of colour in the universe) does not need another distraction.

• 8 YOs need a room of their own to house said telescope.

• 8YOs need to be of an age when they are NOT obsessed by the sun, hence not tempted to look AT it through the telescope.

• constellation gazing can be boring.  Sometimes 8 YOs don’t know this.

• price of equipment (Santa didn’t mention this one, but it’s always in the back of his/ours/hers mind).

I know you – Santa Claus – tried all these approaches, but Pip Jones is fretting for a telescope!  It reminds me of my favourite Christmas story shared by my sister (about her work colleague) when this woman and her partner decided you (Santa) wouldn’t bring her 4YO a Cabbage Patch Doll.

Their little girl sobbed, turned blue, gnashed her teeth, couldn’t sleep/eat/function due to Santa’s inability to bring her a Cabbage Patch baby.  Her father couldn’t cope.  He (in place of Santa) went out to the post-Christmas sales, bought one and bashed the box about.  He hid it in the backyard, mowed the lawn, stumbled across it, and exclaimed:  ‘Hey Em!  LOOK.  Santa must have dropped THIS from his sleigh.  HE DID bring you a CPD after all!’

Such joy!  Such relief.  The only thing was Em’s 7 YO brother, Peter, started looking around the same yard for the Nintendo DS he asked for and didn’t get.  It might have been dropped from the sleigh and be in another bashed-in box, you know?

It wasn’t there!  Oh, Santa!  (I must say this story amuses everyone although it was probably sad for poor old Peter)

So, back to Christmas 2009, Pip Jones and the telescope?  It won’t be found in the backyard.  It won’t miraculously stand up in her (leftover) Christmas pudding, but it will be considered for a birthday.

Santa?  You’ve probably learnt something from this?  Maybe?  Things seem clearer through the lens of a refracting scope?

Perhaps never underestimate the importance of The List, always check it twice, but remember gut instinct is an important thing.  And say ‘in my day, 8 YOs NEVER got telescopes’. This helps – the child switches off, rolls their eyes and goes to play with the bazillion other items they received in their stocking.

A refracting telescope, for heaven’s sake?  Kid must have stars in their eyes, come from another planet or think Santa pops these things from outta Uranus!

Cleaning isn’t my forte.  It’s important to be upfront about what skillz we have (spelling is another of moi strong soooots) and equally as candid about things we no can do.

When I was 14 years old and attending a catholic ladies college (circa 1981) I studied sewing with a wizened, frightening woman named Mrs Pewtrid.  Scary lady.  Failed me, and it was the only N I ever received in nearly 20 years of formal education.

She hated my cross-stitch, almost gagged at my garment-cutting and blamed me for any bobbin that went missing from the sewing machines around the school.

And so to cleaning.  I think if I channeled Mrs Pewtrid, she would give me a massive FAIL for this domestic past-time.

Please don’t misunderstand, I love cleanliness – it’s right up there next to godliness in The Rosie Jones’ Book of Household Priorities.  It’s just that I SURFACE clean.  And without sounding like an egotist, I think I rock at that.

Bet you probably do too?  You know, the zoooom around with the vacuum to whisk the crunchy bits of the floor.  The cleaning of the lavatory in case of impromptu visits from your MIL with the weak bladder.  The wiping of the table following a meal . . .

Surface cleaning!  Bring it on.

The issue relates to the 25th.  We are hosting my family for lunch and the lovely inlaws for the Christmas-dinner-that-no-one-feels-like-eating, but everyone manages to chew something.  I have a couple of people in the family who are Cleanliness Conservatives – a political party with a Senate (members who make laws about dust mites, mold, mildew and jail time for children with dirty homes) and a House of Representatives (members who ensure the surfaces in their own home is fit to lick with the human tongue)

I wonder if you know the type?

Because I am a surface cleaner, the last week has been spent looking at different aspects of our home (generally clean, livable, pleasant) and realizing that beyond the surface, it just doesn’t cut it!  We have been dusting where the sun doesn’t shine, wiping venetian blinds with a-frenzy and washing windows that to the naked eye look fine – but to the Cleanliness Conservative Party would appear Pewtrid.

So, we are nearly there.  Will the surroundings meet with the CCP stamp of approval?  The proof will be in the (Christmas) pudding.  Somehow, I doubt it, but when all is said and done, the season is about getting together with loved ones and simply ‘being’.

The dustier the better!  And hey?  If there is a little dab of tomato paste on the venetian blind in the kitchen?  Have another champagne and it will look very art deco.

Thank you for visiting and reading over the last four months.  I wish you all a Merry and safe Christmas and a vibrant 2010.