I know there are times when the dick behaviour life seems like the only possible way to achieve the outcome you want but, after enduring two cancelled Qantas flights and one failed Jetstar flight transfer I can assure you that the non-dick life is the way to go.
Given my airport chaos it would be easy for me to get angry about the airport staff and the cancelled flights but, instead I’m angry at passenger behaviour because in the past 48 hours I have witnessed and heard stories of humanity at its worst.
Unless you're the heir to a real estate fortune or an overnight Powerball winner then you're going to need to work for a living... and, since you'll be spending a good chunk of your life at work you should be in a job you at least like.
Unfortunately the Marie Kondo “does it bring you joy?” approach doesn't apply to the workplace so, what do you do if you're not happy and what are the signs you should leave?
Whenever someone mentions how great Disney’s Moana is, I get weirdly proud. I puff my chest out and hold my head up high taking credit as if I was involved in the movie’s development. The fact is, the movie has had a huge impact on my own personal development.
So, what do I a living human woman have in common with a fictional animated Disney character called Moana?
As a straight, single, unmarried, childless Australian woman I have been thinking about the upcoming same-sex marriage postal survey and wondering, how does it affect me and how can I centralise my voice rather than the voice of the same-sex community?
This morning, I woke up to a notification about a message in my Facebook Other messages folder. I don't generally check my "Other" social media message folders because as Master of None so, beautifully highlighted "if you're born with a vagina, then creepy dudes are just part of the deal".
I decided to click on the message. It was from a guy, lets call him Steve.
I've always been pretty comfortable talking about the functions of the human body.
I think a large part of that is because I grew up in a pretty scientific household. I mean, with a brother who's a pharmacist, a brother who studies medicine and a brother who is a plumber our family dinner table conversation runs the full gamut of in, through and out the human body.
One morning last week I had two very different conversations about periods and it got me thinking.
If you had told me 8 weeks ago I would be one of the 5 finalists to replace Marc Fennell as the Triple J film reviewer I would have told you to put down the crack pipe or stop swinging from power lines. See, I was in the midst of what the kids' call an existential life crisis. Maybe it was the lack of protein talking from my newly found vegetarian life but I was convinced I wasn't good enough at anything I was doing and therefore, I just wasn't good enough. I watched people around me kicking life goal after life goal and, all I was doing was sitting on the bench running oranges. I desperately wanted to runaway to some idyllic island paradise and pour bucket after bucket of mojitos on my problems because, mature adult retaliatory response.
I was walking to work this morning and because I'm on an early morning shift, the time would have been just before 6.30am. It was dark. There was barely no traffic and even fewer people. I was just listening to a podcast and strolling along. As I crossed the street I noticed these two bogan looking guys stumbling across the street on my right. They looked drunkand the silent alarm bells started ringing.
All of a sudden, one of the guys stops me by putting his hand out in front of my face. I stop dead in my tracks. Half in shock at what's happening and half in sheer terror. It's literally all my fears being realised. What do I do?