"So, do you think you'll guys will stay together forever?" My best friend asked me this two days ago in the most earnest manner. She's recently married and is still enjoying saying "husband" instead of "boyfriend" and telling people she has a family.
"Ummm... well," I started to reply, biting my lip. "That's a big call.. you know forever is a pretty long time and my attention span is, umm... well, short."
"Well, don't you think you'd better decide?"
"Ummm... no, what if I decide and then he gets fat?" I replied and laughed, hoping if I just acted like it was a joke she'd drop the subject.
Do I have to decide something like this? Is commitment making a conscious decision that you're going to be with the same person? I just figured everyone bumped along and some people make it years, other only got through months before their biological urges (and their significant others' annoying habits) drove them back into the meat market.
Interestingly when I asked Twitter this question (I know, quality research, huh?) I got lots of complicated answers. I was sort of expecting a yes or no answer. Apparently the issue of conscious commitment is not that black and white. Dammit. The men (all two of them) seemed to think that it had to be talked about in a matter of fact way and the women (all three of them) said they thought it just happened.
I'm a commitment-phobe. I know I am, I've known for awhile. In fact it all came as a crushing realisation when I was about 19 and I self-sabotaged my NIDA audition. I hate the idea of committing to something, anything whether it's study, men, women, work, whatever. The big, looming question is always "What if I screw it up?". Better to do nothing at all, if you expect nothing you'll never be disappointed, right? Right.
So, basically, this is about my inner struggle over whether or not I have to consciously make a decision to commit to Ben for a long period of time. We've been together, on and off, for 3 years. The off being whilst I was pregnant and a complete psycho. It feels like the time has come for a conscious commitment. We've have a kid, we're saving for a house and I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff.
One day, maybe, I'll be okay with it. With growing up and being responsible. Today, though, I'm leaving the question open. The decision needs to be made, but it true commitment-phobe style, I might just close my eyes and hope it goes away.
Iggy. X
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Too Young
I had my girl when I was 23, not too old, but also not too young (according to some arbitrary ideal of young and old), but you know what... it was too young. I'm not done yet, I wasn't ready for her and I'm still not. I don't have to wisdom or the experience to teach a little girl everything she needs to know to become a successful, strong and independent woman. I've not travelled or studied or gotten lost or fallen down.
I'm about to turn 25, my little girl is nearly two and we're starting to come to some pretty huge learning curves. Soon I'm going to have to teach her right from wrong, she'll want to know the answers to complex questions (Is there a God? Where do babies come from? Why do some people hurt each other?), how do I answer these questions? I don't even know the answers yet.
But I'm a grown-up, I have debt (yay) and rent to pay and electricity and phone bills and internet bills and groceries to buy and meals to plan and lunches to make and washing to fold. I'm too young for all this. I feel like I should be out getting drunk, wasting all my money and generally being a bit of a douchebag about things. I should be living, instead I'm in bed by 9pm and up at 6am (an hour before the kid so I can have a shower and a coffee in silence). A fun night means movies and pizza at home, not getting shit-faced and waking up in a strangers bed, God I miss that. I don't have chores, I have housework, and it never fucking ends.
i just want to run away. Seriously. I've thought about just packing my bags and leaving. I love The Boy and I love The Kid, but lately, it's all too much. they're just another two people in my life who ALWAYS WANT SOMETHING FROM ME. Mix that in with my, now weekly, panic attacks and I'm a time bomb.
but really.. that's enough whinging for today. Sadly my writers block is still quite blocky.
'Til Later,
Iggy x
I'm about to turn 25, my little girl is nearly two and we're starting to come to some pretty huge learning curves. Soon I'm going to have to teach her right from wrong, she'll want to know the answers to complex questions (Is there a God? Where do babies come from? Why do some people hurt each other?), how do I answer these questions? I don't even know the answers yet.
But I'm a grown-up, I have debt (yay) and rent to pay and electricity and phone bills and internet bills and groceries to buy and meals to plan and lunches to make and washing to fold. I'm too young for all this. I feel like I should be out getting drunk, wasting all my money and generally being a bit of a douchebag about things. I should be living, instead I'm in bed by 9pm and up at 6am (an hour before the kid so I can have a shower and a coffee in silence). A fun night means movies and pizza at home, not getting shit-faced and waking up in a strangers bed, God I miss that. I don't have chores, I have housework, and it never fucking ends.
i just want to run away. Seriously. I've thought about just packing my bags and leaving. I love The Boy and I love The Kid, but lately, it's all too much. they're just another two people in my life who ALWAYS WANT SOMETHING FROM ME. Mix that in with my, now weekly, panic attacks and I'm a time bomb.
but really.. that's enough whinging for today. Sadly my writers block is still quite blocky.
'Til Later,
Iggy x
Writers Block & Budgets
I'm really struggling today...
So, I've started a new scripty thingy. They never end up staying scripts but I'm just much better at dialogue than anything else. I have got about 200 words down and then BAM. Nothing. I know exactly how I want it to end, I know what it supposed to happen but it's stuck. Incidentally, writing is nothing like giving birth and neither is getting over writers block, the next male writer that talks about the pangs of "birthing a novel" is going to be shot. Unless you're passing that novel out of your dick then it's nothing like labour. The other problem I'm having is my two main characters have bad names. One if named after me (I needed a name and mine was the first one I thought of) and the other name is taken from someone I know really well and my male character is slowly turning into him just because I used his name as a filler. It's crap. Anyway. My point is, I have writers block and I hate it, I can't get anything done.
Aaaand if I didn't have writers block I would be able to make a completely smoothe transisition to my next topic, but I can't. so, here it is, subtle as a sledge hammer.
Budgets and 5 Year plans
Lately I've been trying to be a grown-up. I honestly still think of myself as a young, irresponsible person, not an adult will a family to look after. However doing our budget last night gave me a big shock. We are living right on the edge, we're no longer over-spending every week but we're still just barely breaking even (we have the whopping sum of $30 a week left-over after bills etc). Something needs to happen. That something is that we need to move. We need to move somewhere that is cheaper to rent and easier to maintain. We have a big 3 bedroom house at the moment, with a large front yard and pissy, oddly-shaped backyard and I hate it. It's hard to clean and the yard is hard to maintain as they have been left to run wild for the last 10 years.
So, if Anyone knows anyone (or is someone) who has a rental in Kingston, Blackmans Bay type area I'd appreciate you letting me know.
Okay, I've done enough whinging.
Love
Iggy x
So, I've started a new scripty thingy. They never end up staying scripts but I'm just much better at dialogue than anything else. I have got about 200 words down and then BAM. Nothing. I know exactly how I want it to end, I know what it supposed to happen but it's stuck. Incidentally, writing is nothing like giving birth and neither is getting over writers block, the next male writer that talks about the pangs of "birthing a novel" is going to be shot. Unless you're passing that novel out of your dick then it's nothing like labour. The other problem I'm having is my two main characters have bad names. One if named after me (I needed a name and mine was the first one I thought of) and the other name is taken from someone I know really well and my male character is slowly turning into him just because I used his name as a filler. It's crap. Anyway. My point is, I have writers block and I hate it, I can't get anything done.
Aaaand if I didn't have writers block I would be able to make a completely smoothe transisition to my next topic, but I can't. so, here it is, subtle as a sledge hammer.
Budgets and 5 Year plans
Lately I've been trying to be a grown-up. I honestly still think of myself as a young, irresponsible person, not an adult will a family to look after. However doing our budget last night gave me a big shock. We are living right on the edge, we're no longer over-spending every week but we're still just barely breaking even (we have the whopping sum of $30 a week left-over after bills etc). Something needs to happen. That something is that we need to move. We need to move somewhere that is cheaper to rent and easier to maintain. We have a big 3 bedroom house at the moment, with a large front yard and pissy, oddly-shaped backyard and I hate it. It's hard to clean and the yard is hard to maintain as they have been left to run wild for the last 10 years.
So, if Anyone knows anyone (or is someone) who has a rental in Kingston, Blackmans Bay type area I'd appreciate you letting me know.
Okay, I've done enough whinging.
Love
Iggy x
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Saving our way of life and our newspaper (or, I be pimpin')
I'm going to start this by saying I have friends who work for News Ltd. so I'm biased. So, that's out of the way. To put it bluntly, I'm pimpin' this cause because I've been asked AND because it's important to me. So, two-fold biased-ness.
Todays post is about our beloved (or loathed) Mercury newspaper. There is shit going down there and none of it is pretty. I have two things I want to draw your attention to the first is a Tasmania Times Piece that ran a few days ago and the second is a blog that is part of the recently launched social media campaign.
Now, bloggers and journalists often don't see eye to eye but lets face it, we're all trying to achieve the same thing. We write down information for other people to access it, we hope the content, language and overall composition will attract a target audience and allow us to make some semblance of a difference. Journalists, however, work in a regulated industry and have time constraints, managers, supervisors, legislative regulations, as well as large HECS debts to pay and families to support. In other words, they stake their entire livelihood on writing. For bloggers, though, this is rarely the case. We often have other sources of income, we work outside the media industry and, as such, are in a much stronger poisition to speak up without fear of losing our livelihoods. So, let's do this. Let's speak up on behalf of all who work at The Mercury.
As is outlined in the Tas Times piece and on the Save our Mercury blog they want to shift editing to Melbourne. This means that people who have little or no local knowledge of Tasmania will be editing the articles we read every day and while this might not seem like a big deal, it really can be. I was given an example by a friend of a headline that was once set back from Melbourne. The article was about a new part of UTAS, the headline made it read like we were getting a new university. Apparently staff in Melbourne didn't realise there was a university in Tasmania. This is just one example.
I could write more on this situation, but I'd really prefer if you read the Tas Times piece, read the blog and supported the cause on Twitter and/or Facebook
The Mercury proclaims that it is "The Voice of Tasmania". Let's keep it that way.
Love,
Iggy x
Todays post is about our beloved (or loathed) Mercury newspaper. There is shit going down there and none of it is pretty. I have two things I want to draw your attention to the first is a Tasmania Times Piece that ran a few days ago and the second is a blog that is part of the recently launched social media campaign.
Now, bloggers and journalists often don't see eye to eye but lets face it, we're all trying to achieve the same thing. We write down information for other people to access it, we hope the content, language and overall composition will attract a target audience and allow us to make some semblance of a difference. Journalists, however, work in a regulated industry and have time constraints, managers, supervisors, legislative regulations, as well as large HECS debts to pay and families to support. In other words, they stake their entire livelihood on writing. For bloggers, though, this is rarely the case. We often have other sources of income, we work outside the media industry and, as such, are in a much stronger poisition to speak up without fear of losing our livelihoods. So, let's do this. Let's speak up on behalf of all who work at The Mercury.
As is outlined in the Tas Times piece and on the Save our Mercury blog they want to shift editing to Melbourne. This means that people who have little or no local knowledge of Tasmania will be editing the articles we read every day and while this might not seem like a big deal, it really can be. I was given an example by a friend of a headline that was once set back from Melbourne. The article was about a new part of UTAS, the headline made it read like we were getting a new university. Apparently staff in Melbourne didn't realise there was a university in Tasmania. This is just one example.
I could write more on this situation, but I'd really prefer if you read the Tas Times piece, read the blog and supported the cause on Twitter and/or Facebook
The Mercury proclaims that it is "The Voice of Tasmania". Let's keep it that way.
Love,
Iggy x
Saturday, March 12, 2011
A weird sort of time (and treadmills)
I'm out of it lately, just completely zoned, no writing (except for some well written filth that has been spewing out of pen due to an enforced lack of sex), no cooking, no jokes just... blah. It's like I'm watching the events of my life through a thin layer of glass, I'm very much living in my own head at the moment. These interludes aren't uncommon for me, they happen a few times a year with me withdrawing for a few weeks and then coming out with renewed energy and going like crazy until the next one descends. My mother even had a name for the she called them, as suburban as it sounds, "episodes" and I've done it since I was a small child.
My Therapist is convinced they're my way of coping with the world and events happening in my life (but, what would she know, I ask myself? She only has a degree and 10 years experience. Pffft). Realistically, she's probably right and so I've started meditating again (I know, how new-agey of me) and you know what? It's a load of shit. I have no patience for this shit. I can't sit still for 1 minute without tapping my fingers or fiddling with my hair, I can't fucking meditate. It's like asking speedy gonzalez to just walk for a bit. Not happening.
SO I'm going to try something a friend suggested. I'm joining a gym (dun, dun dun). I hate gyms, I have a bad history with them. I joined an all-female gym when I was 17 and that was awful, full of blonde sticks in bike shorts and here's me in the baggiest clothes I can probably find struggling to move faster than tortoise pace on the treadmill. And treadmills! Oh. My. God. Fucking treadmills. Being on a treadmill is like being a guinea pig in one of those wheels. Not only are they pointless, they just reiterate the message that I'M GOING FUCKING NOWHERE. When I was 20 I joined a gym that was open for both sexes and WOW was that an eye opener. Gyms with boys helped me get a work-out, unfortunately not the type that helps me lose weight and after getting busted uhh... working out... in the shower I was politely asked to leave.
And now, here I am, about to join another gym at 24 and praying to god that I'm strong enough to deal with whatever penises.. I mean problems are thrown my way.
So, dear readers, please send a thought my way when you realise that I am probably slogging it away on a treadmill or in a stupid pilatyogi class with some ridiculous blonde instructors whose tits are so high she's almost smothering herself, please send me a good thought (AND CHOCOLATE)
Love
Iggy. x
P.S I know I'm not the only one feeling a bit crazy, my friend Veronica is having a bad week, so show her some love. She deserves it more than anyone I know :)
My Therapist is convinced they're my way of coping with the world and events happening in my life (but, what would she know, I ask myself? She only has a degree and 10 years experience. Pffft). Realistically, she's probably right and so I've started meditating again (I know, how new-agey of me) and you know what? It's a load of shit. I have no patience for this shit. I can't sit still for 1 minute without tapping my fingers or fiddling with my hair, I can't fucking meditate. It's like asking speedy gonzalez to just walk for a bit. Not happening.
SO I'm going to try something a friend suggested. I'm joining a gym (dun, dun dun). I hate gyms, I have a bad history with them. I joined an all-female gym when I was 17 and that was awful, full of blonde sticks in bike shorts and here's me in the baggiest clothes I can probably find struggling to move faster than tortoise pace on the treadmill. And treadmills! Oh. My. God. Fucking treadmills. Being on a treadmill is like being a guinea pig in one of those wheels. Not only are they pointless, they just reiterate the message that I'M GOING FUCKING NOWHERE. When I was 20 I joined a gym that was open for both sexes and WOW was that an eye opener. Gyms with boys helped me get a work-out, unfortunately not the type that helps me lose weight and after getting busted uhh... working out... in the shower I was politely asked to leave.
And now, here I am, about to join another gym at 24 and praying to god that I'm strong enough to deal with whatever penises.. I mean problems are thrown my way.
So, dear readers, please send a thought my way when you realise that I am probably slogging it away on a treadmill or in a stupid pilatyogi class with some ridiculous blonde instructors whose tits are so high she's almost smothering herself, please send me a good thought (AND CHOCOLATE)
Love
Iggy. x
P.S I know I'm not the only one feeling a bit crazy, my friend Veronica is having a bad week, so show her some love. She deserves it more than anyone I know :)
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Help, I'm so post-modern I'm not modern anymore... a.k.a my existential crisis
Things are really strange at the moment. I often have periods where solitude is a very important part of my daily routine. This was perfectly fine and manageable before having Isabella, but now, when the mood takes me, the time of solitude must be taken from my sleep time. I've tried convincing myself that sleeping is like solitude, but my dreams stop that from being so, with my fears and insecurity following me into sleep.
I think I'm entering one of those times at the moment, but I'm hoping that if I just let it run it course, stay up late one night (I've arranged with The Boy to sleep in the in morning, thankfully) and I'm watching politically incorrect cartoons, writing, drinking endless hot chocolates and munching on clix biscuits. It's very relaxing. If I could be bothered I'd paint my nails, but I have all day to myself tomorrow (again, thankfully) due to the switch in jobs and work days and daycare insisting on me giving two weeks notice. I have lots of "girly" type things to do (you know, scrub, wax, polish) because I'm catching up with some girlfriends from high school (including an ex-girlfriend and possibly a guy I had an *epic* crush on) and one must looks one's best when stepping into the past. I'm shitting myself. I loved these girls in school but I've changed, they've changed. Everyone has changed.
I can deal with change as long as I'm not forced to stare it in the face and I feel like everything is changing lately. I was driving through a familiar suburb and shops were gone, replace with crass franchise bottle shops, the carparks were packed and the pie from the bakery didn't taste as good as it did when I lived there. I think some brief brushed with my own mortality, combined with a large dose of Anne Rice's The Vampire Chronicles have left me feeling quite like I'm having some type of existential crisis. But I feel like I'm watching it from the outside, like I'm one step removed from myself. God. I sound crazy, I can't even explain it.
Some days I wish my brain would just stop over-analyzing every single thing that happens in my life and let me relax.
Oh well, one day.
Hopefully the quarter-life crisis will hit me next and I'll rush out and buy a house or starting dating a 19 year old model.
Peace Out
Iggy x
I think I'm entering one of those times at the moment, but I'm hoping that if I just let it run it course, stay up late one night (I've arranged with The Boy to sleep in the in morning, thankfully) and I'm watching politically incorrect cartoons, writing, drinking endless hot chocolates and munching on clix biscuits. It's very relaxing. If I could be bothered I'd paint my nails, but I have all day to myself tomorrow (again, thankfully) due to the switch in jobs and work days and daycare insisting on me giving two weeks notice. I have lots of "girly" type things to do (you know, scrub, wax, polish) because I'm catching up with some girlfriends from high school (including an ex-girlfriend and possibly a guy I had an *epic* crush on) and one must looks one's best when stepping into the past. I'm shitting myself. I loved these girls in school but I've changed, they've changed. Everyone has changed.
I can deal with change as long as I'm not forced to stare it in the face and I feel like everything is changing lately. I was driving through a familiar suburb and shops were gone, replace with crass franchise bottle shops, the carparks were packed and the pie from the bakery didn't taste as good as it did when I lived there. I think some brief brushed with my own mortality, combined with a large dose of Anne Rice's The Vampire Chronicles have left me feeling quite like I'm having some type of existential crisis. But I feel like I'm watching it from the outside, like I'm one step removed from myself. God. I sound crazy, I can't even explain it.
Some days I wish my brain would just stop over-analyzing every single thing that happens in my life and let me relax.
Oh well, one day.
Hopefully the quarter-life crisis will hit me next and I'll rush out and buy a house or starting dating a 19 year old model.
Peace Out
Iggy x
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Festivale; the festival for the mouth
On Friday night The Boy and I packed up the car with a few days worth of clothes, booked into a dingy backpackers and headed up to Launceston for Festivale.
We arrived in Launnie at about 8:30pm, checked into the backpackers and then wandered over to Festivale. It was packed. There were people everywhere. Families, couples, groups of giggling girls and, of course, the wine drinkers.
We started by doing a few big laps around the park, we couldn't get to the main stage but we eventually managed to procure two Tasmanian Inn apple ciders and found a spot to sit near the second little stage to watch Sticks and Kane, who were large amounts of awesome and played some super cool song. We wandered over to listen to Diesel but it was completely packed and had no where to sit, we also had no idea who Diesel was and decided we liked the other dudes (as they were known as at that stage, having forgot our programme) better because they played better songs.
After watching Sticks and Kane and imbibing a few more ciders we decided on an early night and, after purchasing some food for the road (fish and chips and ollibollans, both exquisite) headed back to the backpackers where we found the pub downstairs having a lively party with a live band. They sucked. They finished at 1am. We eventually got to sleep and woke early the next day.
We got to Festivale at 11am on saturday, which was perfect, there were free tables, hardly any lines and the weather was stunning. We explored the half we couldn't get to on friday night, watched some kids make cupcakes and thanked our lucky stars we didn't bring our kid. (In saying that, Festivale was incredibly family friendly if you don't have a feral toddler like we do). The atmosphere was great, people were happy and laughing, no one was cranky about lines and we heard only a few complaints and most of those were about the cost (which, in my opinion, were a fair call, $20 entry and then food and drinks on top could make it a very expensive day for a family with 2 parents and 2 kids)
We decided on some lunch, Pizza from Motile Wood-fired pizza. I had potato which was completely delicious although a little bit salty. The Boy had hot salami and a slice of my pizza, both of which he declared fantastic except that the salami wasn't very hot.
After responsibliy eating before drinking we decided to go in search of more cider and came across Two Metre Tall, a farm-based cider company from down "our way", we got two medium cups of their Pear cider and found a nice table with an umbrella (good idea that, the umbrellas) and drank our ciders. I have to admit I wasn't much a fan it was traditional cider which meant it was much more bitter than I was used to, the boy enjoyed it thought and drank both his cup and 3/4's of mine.
I decided after our pizza and cider that I should do something adventurous and LO and BEHOLD! There was a stall selling possum "tasters" for $2 so I thought, gee, why not try road kill? (seriously, I know it wasn't actual road kill, but when I think of possums I think of roadkill). It wasn't very nice, I'm not usually an adventerous person food-wise so I was quite proud of myself for trying it. It tasted okay, but the texture was... weird.. chalky and it smelt kind of like cat food.
We then decided that dessert (the best of meals) was in order so we wandered around (for about the 13th time) trying to decide what to get. We settled on a warm white chocolate and raspberry brownie. It was stunning and I'm glad we only got one t share! So rich and lush! After scoffing that we decided that second dessert was in order so we wandered over to the Christmas Hill Raspberry Farm stall where we got a chocolate, raspberry and rum pudding and a single serve of raspberry ice cream. These both also fantastic, the ice cream was luscious and the raspberries were perfect sweet, with a little bit of tart and they looked beautiful, like something from a picture.
After taking in some of the music while eating our desserts we decided it was time for an afternoon nap and some Launceston sight seeing.
We got lost in the 'burbs, went to the museum and then back to the backpackers for a short nap.
We headed back to festivale for dinner where we decided old favorites were the go. We both had a baked potato, yummy but the portion sizes were a bit small for my liking and we were still hungry so we each got a bratwurst, which were also super tasty. After munching down those and still feeling peckish we headed over to the kids area for something that every self-resposcting festival must have, fairy floss! 2 big, pink sticks later we were full to the brim and bursting so it was over the stages for music,. The main stage was packed so we, again, wandered over the the smaller stage and watched what they had to offer. I can't remember the names of the bands and singers (Sorry guys!) but they were all incredibly talented.
About 10pm we decided to call it a night, we were full, tired, slightly sunburnt and longing for sleep. So back to the backpackers, where it was, thankfully, pretty quiet (except for the couple down the end shagging loudly but that done in 5 minutes, poor buggers).
All in All Festivale was an amazing event. I didn't see a single fight on either of the nights I was there despite how drunk a lot of people where. All the stall holders were friendly, helpful and generous with samples. It was an incredibly family-friendly event and the kids area and activities were well thought-out and appropriate. There was ample cheap parking nearby.
The event organisers should be proud, it was better than anything similar I have been to in the southern region and I hope that we can go again next year.
Thanks to ABC for giving me the chance to be able to go to this event because without the free passes and vouchers this is not something that would have been within our reach.
Well done Launceston, we Hobartians may appear not to appreciate you but from now on I'm going to try and get my northern jokes to a minimum.
Love,
Iggy x
We arrived in Launnie at about 8:30pm, checked into the backpackers and then wandered over to Festivale. It was packed. There were people everywhere. Families, couples, groups of giggling girls and, of course, the wine drinkers.
We started by doing a few big laps around the park, we couldn't get to the main stage but we eventually managed to procure two Tasmanian Inn apple ciders and found a spot to sit near the second little stage to watch Sticks and Kane, who were large amounts of awesome and played some super cool song. We wandered over to listen to Diesel but it was completely packed and had no where to sit, we also had no idea who Diesel was and decided we liked the other dudes (as they were known as at that stage, having forgot our programme) better because they played better songs.
After watching Sticks and Kane and imbibing a few more ciders we decided on an early night and, after purchasing some food for the road (fish and chips and ollibollans, both exquisite) headed back to the backpackers where we found the pub downstairs having a lively party with a live band. They sucked. They finished at 1am. We eventually got to sleep and woke early the next day.
We got to Festivale at 11am on saturday, which was perfect, there were free tables, hardly any lines and the weather was stunning. We explored the half we couldn't get to on friday night, watched some kids make cupcakes and thanked our lucky stars we didn't bring our kid. (In saying that, Festivale was incredibly family friendly if you don't have a feral toddler like we do). The atmosphere was great, people were happy and laughing, no one was cranky about lines and we heard only a few complaints and most of those were about the cost (which, in my opinion, were a fair call, $20 entry and then food and drinks on top could make it a very expensive day for a family with 2 parents and 2 kids)
We decided on some lunch, Pizza from Motile Wood-fired pizza. I had potato which was completely delicious although a little bit salty. The Boy had hot salami and a slice of my pizza, both of which he declared fantastic except that the salami wasn't very hot.
After responsibliy eating before drinking we decided to go in search of more cider and came across Two Metre Tall, a farm-based cider company from down "our way", we got two medium cups of their Pear cider and found a nice table with an umbrella (good idea that, the umbrellas) and drank our ciders. I have to admit I wasn't much a fan it was traditional cider which meant it was much more bitter than I was used to, the boy enjoyed it thought and drank both his cup and 3/4's of mine.
I decided after our pizza and cider that I should do something adventurous and LO and BEHOLD! There was a stall selling possum "tasters" for $2 so I thought, gee, why not try road kill? (seriously, I know it wasn't actual road kill, but when I think of possums I think of roadkill). It wasn't very nice, I'm not usually an adventerous person food-wise so I was quite proud of myself for trying it. It tasted okay, but the texture was... weird.. chalky and it smelt kind of like cat food.
We then decided that dessert (the best of meals) was in order so we wandered around (for about the 13th time) trying to decide what to get. We settled on a warm white chocolate and raspberry brownie. It was stunning and I'm glad we only got one t share! So rich and lush! After scoffing that we decided that second dessert was in order so we wandered over to the Christmas Hill Raspberry Farm stall where we got a chocolate, raspberry and rum pudding and a single serve of raspberry ice cream. These both also fantastic, the ice cream was luscious and the raspberries were perfect sweet, with a little bit of tart and they looked beautiful, like something from a picture.
After taking in some of the music while eating our desserts we decided it was time for an afternoon nap and some Launceston sight seeing.
We got lost in the 'burbs, went to the museum and then back to the backpackers for a short nap.
We headed back to festivale for dinner where we decided old favorites were the go. We both had a baked potato, yummy but the portion sizes were a bit small for my liking and we were still hungry so we each got a bratwurst, which were also super tasty. After munching down those and still feeling peckish we headed over to the kids area for something that every self-resposcting festival must have, fairy floss! 2 big, pink sticks later we were full to the brim and bursting so it was over the stages for music,. The main stage was packed so we, again, wandered over the the smaller stage and watched what they had to offer. I can't remember the names of the bands and singers (Sorry guys!) but they were all incredibly talented.
About 10pm we decided to call it a night, we were full, tired, slightly sunburnt and longing for sleep. So back to the backpackers, where it was, thankfully, pretty quiet (except for the couple down the end shagging loudly but that done in 5 minutes, poor buggers).
All in All Festivale was an amazing event. I didn't see a single fight on either of the nights I was there despite how drunk a lot of people where. All the stall holders were friendly, helpful and generous with samples. It was an incredibly family-friendly event and the kids area and activities were well thought-out and appropriate. There was ample cheap parking nearby.
The event organisers should be proud, it was better than anything similar I have been to in the southern region and I hope that we can go again next year.
Thanks to ABC for giving me the chance to be able to go to this event because without the free passes and vouchers this is not something that would have been within our reach.
Well done Launceston, we Hobartians may appear not to appreciate you but from now on I'm going to try and get my northern jokes to a minimum.
Love,
Iggy x
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