The Chronicles of Verity Blackwell

Hi all

I recently returned from a trip to New York.

I love New York. I love to see the sites and see what types of people are around. In a city of so money people you can see some interesting things.

However I never expected to BE one of the sites in New York City. And to this day I am not entirely sure whether I actually have been or not, but it came close.

And in typical fashion for me, I didn’t realise it until long after the event had passed.

It all happened when I put on my jeans one morning ready to go into town. They are the type of comfortable worn in jeans that you put on and instantly feel at home in. It’s like seeing an old friend. There is probably even an imprint in them the shape of my bottom they fit that well.

So anyway I put them on and turned to check out my rear in the mirror to make sure my top was sitting right and I saw it……

A hole!

Right under my left butt cheek. I was mortified. I didn’t hear any ripping when I put my jeans on which must have meant that they hole was pre-existing.

I immediately tried to recall what I had done the previous day, when it hit me….

The day before had been my day of practically walking the whole of Manhattan. I was up and down and around the centre. Shopping in TriBeCa, SoHo and Midtown West.

Which meant….. potentially I’d shown my left buttock to everyone I passed!

Oh dear. I started to panic. I could just imagine the headlines now “Aussie Bum seen in New York: Not a Derelict but a Derriere”

What a nightmare.

But the saving grace is that it was Winter and I was wearing a coat. I quickly put my coat on to see if it covered the hole. And well…. it sort of….. not really….. but maybe sort of did!

So, I really can’t be sure if half of the Isle of Manhattan has seen my butt or not. Hehehe

I guess I will have to keep my eyes out on the local tour highlights incase I am on there. And next time I shall charge a viewers fee!

Love Verity

Hi all

Before you pass judgement, this post is not as kinky as it sounds. In fact, it is more painful than anything and possibly has something to do with my “fight or flight” reflex.

Looking back I realise that I tend to have a history of injuries when it comes to sport. Mainly ball sports. From being hit by flying softballs (I played catcher – so balls flying at me was inevitable) to trying to play netball and falling over one of the players on my own team.

Yes I know I’m clumsy – hence why I usually stick to exercise that does not involve round objects.

One of the first times I noticed that my face seems to be a target for flying balls was at a mixed beach volleyball competition. Unfortunately it was also one of my first recorded instances in the work “Career Limiting Moves” book as I was recorded saying “I hate it when sandy balls fly at my head”. Sadly the thing that made that comment funny was that it was recorded in the book with no context and hence my colleagues were left to think what they wanted.

I guess I got to thinking that perhaps it is due to my fight or flight response being inactive I somehow see an object flying at my head and instead of choosing to duck/run/ protect myself I somehow choose to stand and fight relying on my forehead to protect me. Odd right?

I received confirmation of this yesterday when I was playing soccer. My first game in years… and now I realise why.

I received a ball in the face that was kicked at point blank range and I barely flinched to protect myself. Instead I waited till it hit me and then yelled “F@#% Me”. Normally foul language like that is enough to get you kicked off a soccer field in a game, so I went to the ref and apologised for my “potty mouth”. His response was priceless – “Don’t worry, I would have done the same thing in your position”. Hehehe

I’m not sure where this leaves me because I have a whole season of soccer ahead of me. I guess the first thing is to learn to duck!

Love Verity

Hi all

I’ve recently returned from a trip to the “City that never sleeps” and I’ve discovered something.

New York does sleep! Actually it sleeps in!

I discovered this on a shopping trip one morning. I was in the vicinity of Union Square and looking forward to one of my favourite stores in the city. It was 10am on a week day and to my utter disappointment the shop was closed!

There was a sign on the door stating that it opened at 12 noon! I was shattered. I was desperate to get the shoes I wanted and continue my shopping rampage. But since the store was closed for 2 more hours I was forced to find a cafe and enjoy a nice coffee (torture! Hehehe). But that is not the point, the point is that I thought everything was open 24-7 in New York.

Secretly I am pleased to find out the secret of New York where many people start work at 10am and finish at 7pm. They party all night long and then sleep in.

Don’t get me wrong, this is not a NYC Bashing and I am not saying that Australian stores are any better because they open at 9am on week days. I am merely making a point that even the “City That Never Sleeps” needs a rest. It’s nice to know New Yorkers are human!

Love Verity

Hi all

I can’t take all the credit for this wonderful “Verity Moment” as it was a tag team effort by myself and a colleague.

Recently we were working quite hard and doing some long hours. Each day my colleague and I would talk regularly which usually involved her rolling her chair around to my desk. We basically sit facing one another but there is a partition separating us and hence if you just try to talk to one another through the partition you don’t know if the other person is there or not. It’s obvious she and I have both been guilty of these one sided conversations because our colleagues have taken to calling out “She’s not there” or “You’re talking to yourself again”.

So rather than get up and take two steps to see one another, we roll our chairs around to each other’s desks.

So the other day during a moment of intense stress my colleague called out to me through the partition but I couldn’t understand what she was saying so she proceeded to wheel her chair to my desk….

What she hadn’t counted on was the dip in the carpet, actually, she should have been well aware of it because both of us had commented in the past that “One day…. someone would come a cropper because of it”.

Well on this particular occasion she almost did….

My colleague continued towards my desk and somehow the chair didn’t because it had a wheel caught in the dip in the carpet. There was a short scramble where legs and arms waved frantically and it looked like there could be chaos. But amazingly she recovered and saved herself by clutching the chair and pulling herself back on it. Much relieved heavy panting followed.

At the same time as all of this had happened I’d taken a sip of my coffee. So whilst my colleague was wrestling with her chair, I was trying hard to fight my natural bodily functions which seemed to want me to cough, choke, sneeze, laugh and blow coffee out my nose all at the same time. Very interesting feeling. Luckily I saved myself and simply managed to swallow before I burst out laughing.

Talk about stress relief. The two of us laughed so hard it helped us forget the long hours and hard work for a few minutes and remember how candid life can be.

I guess the moral of the story is – when work gets stressful, don’t be scared to laugh at funny things. And even better if you have a colleague who is almost as clumsy as you are – then funny things happen regularly!

Love Verity

Hi all

A recent dinner discussion with a friend made me realise something truly important…

So important that I am actually considering writing to Queen Elizabeth II (Liz, as I like to think of her affectionately) and voicing my opinion on the matter. I have no doubt she will agree!

You see my friends, I think I should be made a “Lady” by the Queen!

You know…. men get made Lords or such and such and women are made ladies. So that they can be introduced as Lord and Lady Wotsbottom (this is a purely fictional name – I don’t know a Lord Wotsbottom, but that’s not to say there isn’t one).

These such privileges are usually bestowed upon individuals who have performed a great service to Mother England or one of her Colonies.

I have done such a thing!

What I hear you ask?

I realised today, that in an act of service to citizens of the globe, I have not worn togs (swimmers, bathers, cossies, ridiculously expensive usually Lycra garments worn swimming) since 2007!

I consider this a huge act of National Service as I have saved the inhabitants of Australia’s Eastern Coast from the dreadful fate of seeing me in such swimming attire. It’s a global service because we have lots of international tourists in Queensland who might have also risked seeing me in togs, had I not refrained from wearing them.

And it is to this end that I intend to write a letter to dear Liz, stating that I should be made a “Lady” for services to the Commonwealth Country of Australia and indeed the Commonwealth as a whole.

I always knew I was destined for great things and I really think this could be my big break!

I’ll let you know how I go.

Love Verity

Hi all

On a recent road trip I discovered the most interesting thing about my parents’ navigational device – this one is a Tom Tom. My mum actually talks to the crazy thing. It says to turn a corner and mum says “Yes Thomas”. Hehehe

To begin I need to let you know that I have a strong dislike of navigational devices. I don’t know why  because I love reading maps and I even love Google Maps. I think it’s because I don’t like being told what to do. And worse still is that the navigational devices don’t ask – they don’t say “Could you please turn left in 500m?” or even “If you’d like to, you might want to turn left soon at XXX street”.

So anyway, I never use a navigational device, and I couldn’t really see why we had this one on for this particular road trip considering we knew exactly where we were going. I think my mum and step dad just like to have it on to make use of it. I guess they figure that they have one so they should use it.

But on this occasion I was grateful we knew where we were going, because if we’d listened to “Thomas” we’d surely have been sent on a wild goose chase. Around the Grafton area we started to get very odd directions from Tom Tom.

Driving along in the middle of nowhere Tom Tom all of a sudden told us to take a left, we ignored the random instruction because we had no need to get off the freeway. So about 400m down the road Tom Tom tried again.

It was so odd. The only thing that could have possibly been on the left was a small beach side town. And then the thought struck my step dad, perhaps Tom Tom was trying to market small stores in beach side towns. Imagine how many people would use a navigational device not knowing where they were going and could easily be led right to these stores. What a brilliant marketing ploy.

It turns out that this sort of thing had happened before to my mum and step dad, luckily they always know where they are going when they use their navigational device (kinda defeats the purpose doesn’t it?) and they decided to follow the directions that Tom Tom was giving them to see if they could figure out which stores were doing the “marketing”.

As it turns out, there must be a total glitch in the Tom Tom system because the directions that my mum followed led her straight into a cow paddock. Maybe the cows are behind the scam…. I heard the song “Cows with Guns”. Perhaps they are planning a takeover. Hehehee

So I guess my advice to you is, never use a navigational device unless you know where you are going. Which really defeats the purpose of them.

In order to avoid a takeover by cows, perhaps people should go back to learning how to read maps.

Love Verity

Hi all

This little post is inspired by years of observation and some truly special and talented people whom I feel blessed to call my friends.

I’m not one for reality TV or any such shows. But I do love talent shows, and the emergence of shows like “Australia’s Got Talent” and “So You think You Can Dance” have led to a re-emergence of something I thought was almost extinct – the strong male dancer.

When I was little there were not many little boys who would dance or would even want to try dancing. I grew up watching Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Bing Crosby and even Frank Sinatra in wonderful musicals where there was always dancing. And yet, most of the boys I knew thought dancing was for weaklings and girls.

I knew this couldn’t possibly be the case.

Men like Michael Jackson, Bobby Brown, MC Hammer and even Vanilla Ice had songs and video clips in the charts and they danced. And none of them looked like weaklings to me.

Like most little girls, I grew up with fairy-tales and Disney movies where the Prince and Princess would live happily ever after and this was usually portrayed by them dancing together and sharing “true love’s first kiss”.

I became puzzled by this apparent paradox in my life. How was I to know when I met my Prince, unless he danced with me, and since none of the men I saw growing up (both young and old) danced, I worried that I might never meet my Prince! This spelled tragedy to a 10 year old girl!

However since I turned 17 or 18 I’ve noticed a change. The popularity or hip hop music and reemergence of break dancing has seen an increase in the number of men who dance.

The first example that I came across of this phenomenon is my dance teacher – a man who I first met aged 13 and thought was quite possibly the most brilliant person on the planet. I’m a fair bit older than 13 now, but I still know my dance teacher and he is a brilliant ambassador for dance. He’s the perfect example of a man who can be sensitive enough to listen and interpret music with his body and yet still be masculine and strong. He’s a husband, a dancer, a singer, a brother and a good friend to many people.

I also know loads of break dancers. Men who choose to focus their energy into strength, power, flexibility and the art of a “battle”. I love the concept of a dance battle as it seems a perfect medium for competitive and dominant traits to be channelled in a positive way with no actual fighting or injury. Actually, there are sometimes injuries involved in break dancing – but they are usually self inflicted. Make no mistake, B-boys are not weaklings. The training and strength that goes into their dance moves only comes from a place of courage. However, one thing I’ve noticed about break dancers is that the term “B-Boy” applies to them – they are boyish in their approach to most of life. Not that it is a bad thing. B-boys are alive and vibrant and cheeky. They remind me of kids in the playground with their joy and exuberance. However – I’ve not really seen a “B-Man” yet.

In my search for the “Prince” to dance with I’ve tried many avenues. I’ve never really liked ballroom dancing though – despite that being the sort of dancing that the Princes in the Disney movies do. And I’ve tried Latin dancing a number of times but most often I’ve found that it seems to be a place where “sleazy” men think they have a legitimate excuse to grope a woman. Not my idea of fun really! I enjoyed bush dancing when I was younger – but it’s becoming a rare thing. And whilst I love watching the ballet, my lack of flexibility and my curvaceous physique rule it out!

My real love for dancing is hip hop. And that’s what I have been doing for years. Not for a career. But for the sheer love of it. The number of male hip hop dancers has recently increased thanks to men such as Usher Raymond and Justin Timberlake. Hip hop dancing has led me to meet many brilliant male dancers, whom I’m proud to call friends.

One such friend is quite possibly one of the most exceptional male dancers I personally know. I first saw him dancing at a dance competition in a night club that I was also dancing in. I was impressed by his ability to move to the music in such a way that almost seemed soft…. and yet it remained masculine. Over the years I’ve become friends with this guy, not exceptionally close friends, but friends enough to give support and encouragement. His style has developed and he now choreographs and teaches other people to move like him. His passion has driven him to move to a place where he can expand his talent and reach a greater audience, leaving family and friends to follow his dream. His creativity in the way he interprets the music is ever evolving and changing. Just when I start to expect a certain style from him I watch a new routine which is completely original and fresh. It’s so refreshing to see a man who is strong, confident and knows himself enough to dance in a way that shows his soul singing. It’s not a weakness in my eyes for men to dance, it’s a strength! An honest expression of emotion that exposes oneself to potential praise or ridicule depending on the audience. Quite possibly one of the bravest things a human can do – expose their true soul with all its vulnerability and dance with honesty displaying talent and dedication.

And frankly it’s nothing new. Men have been dancing since the dawn of time – even in the Bible it says “King David danced with joy”. Men of islander/ indigenous decent have war dances and ceremonial dances with have been passed down through the generations. The Haka danced by New Zealanders and Tongans is never considered a weak dance.

As I started looking into it, in history it has always been the men dancing more than the women. Dances that showed their strength, bravery, skill as hunters and warriors. Why then, did men stop? When did running a business become more important than expressing joy and strength through a gratuitous expression for like dance. When did men stop rejoicing? I know it can’t be fully dead as men rejoice when a sporting team wins – usually with a couple of air punches… is this the new victory dance?

I guess we’ll never really know, and perhaps it was never all of the men that danced. Maybe it’s only ever been a select few in history that know how good it feels to use their bodies to display joy and gratitude. Maybe the rest have other ways such as song or sporting abilities that they use as a method of giving thanks and showing their masculinity.

And it might seem biased that I write this post focusing on men. But the truth is, I still see examples of women dancing in every day life all the time. The mother who rocks her baby, the school girls who twirl with one another in the playground, the teenagers learning to express their new found sexuality with a well timed hip shake and even the grandmas who tap their feet to the tunes they used to dance to.

It seems women don’t mind expressing their joy with dance as much. Perhaps we don’t mind exposing our souls to ridicule as much. To any men reading this, next time you think about calling a man weak for dancing, consider whether you yourself are brave enough to expose yourself to that level of judgement.

My greatest hope is that more men learn to dance or remember to dance. To find a way to express their joys, frustrations, sadness or any emotions they feel. It’s not a purely selfless wish though. I guess part of me wants men to be able to express their emotions and feel happy. But the more selfish part of me wants more men to dance so that one day I’ll know my Prince when I meet him.

Love Verity

Hi all

This post comes to you because my fingers still work. Unlike my voice which has left my body for a while. I’ve had a cold/ flu for about 3 months now. It seems to come and go as it pleases. I’ve had quite a few doses of antibiotics.

This cold must really like me. Perhaps my body is a good place to hang out. Actually…. that must be it! And it’s not only colds! Fat seems to like staying in my body too! Hehehehe

So anyway, after ensuring I was confined to bed for 2 days last week, the cold had one more trick for me.

I awoke on Sunday morning mute!

I’m guessing it was the excessive coughing of that last week that did it. Despite my efforts of cough lollies, cough syrup, antibiotics, vitamins and the rest…. My cold defeated my throat.

It was actually hilarious today at work because I couldn’t speak. The most I could muster was a breathy squeak. Not the sexy husky voice that some people get when they lose their voice. nope mine was definitely an airy squeak. Perhaps that’s what mice sound like when they are trying to have sexy husky voices.

So anyway, a day of minimal talking didn’t really bother me. It was quite pleasant really. And when someone asked me a question I didn’t want to answer I just smiled coyly and lifted my hand to my throat innocently to demonstrate I couldn’t possibly answer.

However, there is a downside to having no voice and I soon discovered this.

As I left work I had a craving for McDonalds. I figured I could just pop through the drive through and grab a McChicken Meal.

And that’s when I realised…..

I can’t go through the drive through… I can’t talk. Those silly machines you talk into are bad enough when you have a voice. Somehow the person on the other end always gets something in your order wrong and you feel you have to yell the correct order at them until they get it right.

But I can’t yell. I can barely squeak.

And I can’t go in to the McDonalds, the humiliation of trying to use sign language to order a McChicken Meal would be too much.

So that’s what torture is! Not being able to satisfy my insatiable craving for a McChicken Meal. Hehehe!

Hehehehe

Completely deflated I drove past McDonalds and simply came home to a good home cooked meal. Hehehe.

Perhaps I should stay unable to talk – could be a brilliant diet technique!

Love Verity

Hi all

The other day I was innocently eavesdropping on a conversation a co-worker was having and got myself into a bit of trouble. I can hear you questioning now… “Why were you eavesdropping in the first place?”

My answer is simple really…. because my ears work perfectly… and therefore, “Because I can!!!”

So anyway, we had some tradesmen in our office, electricians to be precise or sparkies as they are commonly called, to test and tag all of our electrical cables in the office.

A while ago a few of us noticed the fridge was leaking … and so my co-worker asked the electrician about the fridge leaking. This actually confused me… Why would anyone ask an electrician about refrigeration?

The clever sparkie was honest enough to answer that whilst being a fully qualified and experienced electrician and also holding qualifications in Information Technology, he knew nothing of fridges. I figured he was clever for this, otherwise he could have wound up fixing our fridge. And if he’d tried to fix the fridge, when having no knowledge of how to fix it, and then broke it… he’d be in some serious hot water. You just don’t mess with fridges.

After hearing this answer I actually tuned out for a bit and focused on my work… “Yes! I can focus on work when required”.

But after a while my ears got the better of me and I tuned in again – now my colleague and the sparking were talking about drains. I had to laugh to myself – the man is an electrician… why was she asking him about drains.

It was at about this point in time when I figured that I could contribute to the conversation. I know a bit about blocked drains. Surely I know just as much as any other person not qualified in plumbing. I figured this put myself, my colleague and the sparkie on equal footing.

They were discussing how to clear blocked drains. I waited for a lull in the conversation and then chimed in with my “pearl of wisdom”…. “Well if the drain is blocked, just snake it! It’s probably just long hair caught in it. I know all about long hair in drains… Every boyfriend I’ve ever had has complained about my long dark hair in the drain causing blockages”.

I thought I sounded so clever, and I probably just solved their problem with the most simple answer. “Why had neither of the other two not contemplated snaking the drain?”

I stopped to check their expressions – I expected they would be nodding in agreement at the brilliance of my comment.

Instead they were rolling their eyes and laughing.

And it was then that the sparkie was kind enough to make me aware that they were talking about the drain in the fridge…. that might be what was causing the leak.

Oh…………………… right……………….

I gave a sheepish smile and commented that not many people got long hair in the drains of their fridges did they?

I backed away feeling foolish and resolved that in future….. I must remember to eavesdrop on the FULL conversation before contributing anymore “Verity Pearls of Wisdom!”

Love Verity