Gok Wan is my hero. He has relieved the hours of boredom that I have been slowly accruing whilst my three month old baby girl is attached to my boob, guzzling for endless minutes each day. My husband thinks I am nuts because all I want to do is get to a Haberdashery and buy some bows, flowers, ribbon – any shit that I can use to garnish my clothing. Husband generously offered to support ‘project embellishment’ by picking up some leaves and sticks to complement the soon-to-buy items that I will attach to my wardrobe. Funny. With a new baby, we are on a serious budget and new clothes are a no-no for a while but there is still a smile on my face (an anomoly for someone who loves clothes but can’t buy any). Why? Because good old Gok has inspired me to funk up my old clothes, which I intend to do with as many accoutrements I can find. The potential for me to end up looking like a Christmas tree is great, so I understand Husband’s mockery. Personally, I like the Christmas tree look thank you very much! There is no such thing as ‘too much’ or ‘overdone’ in my life. (more…)

If somebody tells me about the “Mozart Effect” one more time I am going to start breaking faces. I realise that my metal music alliances may be enough to freak out the most liberal of thinkers but it would be most appreciated if people did their research.

The Mozart Effect is a theory that is based on a set of research results, which indicate that listening to Mozart’s music may induce a short-term improvement on the performance of certain kinds of mental tasks known as ‘spatial-temporal reasoning‘. Popularised versions of the theory credit the playing of classical music to babies with boosting IQ, improving health, strengthening family ties and even producing the occasional child prodigy. This idea was entrenched in the 1997 book by Don Campbell, The Mozart Effect: Tapping the Power of Music to Heal the Body, Strengthen the Mind, and Unlock the Creative Spirit. Although there have been numerous studies conducted in support of the Mozart Effect, the theory remains controversial and there are many academics and studies that debunk the extent and consistency of the proposed effects of classical music on babies. There are researchers who argue that the Mozart Effect represents only the short-term effects of classical music on mood and arousal. There are also studies concluding that although classical music may have a calming effect babies, it does not in fact improve IQ. This is why researchers continue to test whether the Mozart Effect is real and if any other styles and pieces of music have the same effect. (more…)

So what’s up with bicyclists who don’t wear helmets? I understand that cranial protective gear may look a tad brain-like and will thus compromise any attempt at a fashion statement – of course splattered brains mixed with some gravel always goes well with American Apparel. Many people just aren’t willing to sacrifice their dignity to ensure the confinement of brain matter. (more…)

Today my colleague at work asked me if I am going to eat my placenta, and if so, would I eat it raw or have it made into pills. As my jaw proceeded to drop and dribble extricated itself from my mouth, I managed to splutter an adamant “No!” So, here’s the deal: placentophagy is on the rise and is not only limited to weirdo actors and their scientologist friends.

Naturally, I was curious as to why a person would consider eating the bloody membranous afterbirth that is expelled from a woman’s body after her baby has been born. Recent research (based on experiments conducted on rats … nice) shows that the placenta and amniotic fluid of a woman contains a molecule (POEF, Placental Opioid-Enhancing Factor) that modifies the activity of endogenous opioids in a way that produces an enhancement of the natural reduction in pain that occurs shortly after and during delivery. Some doctors, therefore, prescribe placenta consumption as medicine to help stem bleeding after birth and to help the uterus clean itself out. The placenta is rich in nutrients (iron and protein) that will help the mother heal after childbirth, and is also known to be a great source of vitamins and minerals, which are thought to help fight postpartum depression – vitamin B6 is great for this. Other benefits of placentophagy include an increase in energy levels, increased production of breast milk and a decrease in the likelihood of iron deficiency and thus insomnia or sleep disorders. One has to wonder why boiled, canned or pilled placenta is not readily available in local pharmacies? (more…)

I love films – to escape with, to debate over, to analyse and to berate. But there is nothing that kills a great discussion like the pompous ass who self-righteously imposes his highfalutin intellectualisms onto the discussion. Differing opinions keep life interesting and when art is concerned, there will always be dissention. I agree that there is some kind of ethereal standard that separates the great movies from the good movies and the good movies from the poor ones. And subjectivity cannot be absolved from the standard – it’s the human condition. I guess my point is this: in the great conundrum of human existence, who actually cares about the so-called standard of greatness or which movies win awards or which films are intellectually and stylistically superior? Joe Queenan (guardian.co.uk journalist) says it best: (more…)

Recently I was accosted with a vision that went something like this: me, lying on a hospital bed with my legs sprawled marinating in my own placenta juices. Like a pickled onion in beetroot sauce. Disgusting. I am repeatedly told that “birth is beautiful”. In spite of the fact that I have the maternal instinct of a flea I am happy to acknowledge that babies are beautiful. But birth. What planet are people living on? Birth is pretty damn yuck. How can episiotomies, stitches, blood, umbilical chords, forceps, injections and pain be beautiful. Associating pain and grossness with beauty sounds pretty masochistic to me. Life is beautiful. Producing life is miraculous. Giving birth may be both miraculous and beautiful theoretically and romantically but certainly not practically and realistically. It’s painful, it’s gross and it’s humiliating. Nope, I have never given birth but I am not about to delude myself into thinking it pleasant and beautiful in any way. I like to call it keeping it real. It is this very philosophy that has dictated the abandonment of my usual ‘cut the bullshit keep it real’ attitude for a brief sojourn in Pleasantville that will end, rather unpleasantly I am sure, on December 17th 2009. (more…)

Responsibility. The weight carried by this word is insurmountable. And I am really feeling it today thanks to a headline in the morning’s Guardian newspaper, which reads Mugabe splashes out on birthday bash as cholera spirals out of control. Here is my stream of consciousness: (more…)

When I think MOTHERHOOD, I think of the scene in Look Who’s Talking when Kirsty Alley tells John Travolta that giving birth is like “squeezing something the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of a lemon”. I know that the delivery process is not really what motherhood is about but I just can’t seem to get past it. It scares the living shit out of me! It’s gooey and bloody and involves enemas, forceps, ripping, tearing and episiotomies – or so I have heard. Gross! I am also not too keen on stretching the crap out of my vag. I like my vag, I don’t want to mangle her. Scar tissue and a gaping hole can’t do much for one’s sex life. I like sex – I don’t want it to be over. I don’t want to be fat and stretch marked. I am not sure if, as a woman, there is supposed to come a point when I will feel okay with ruining my body and becoming an eternal bulging blob. Or am I just supposed to take the plunge despite my reservations. (more…)

Confession: I am one of those losers who actually care who wins Oscars. I will sit through six hours of rambling speeches and corny jokes to see if my favourite guy or gal wins (screw highlights). I may even shed a tear. I am open to mockery, so feel free.

Last night the list of nominees for the 81st Annual Academy Awards was announced. The competition is hot in all categories, with some awesome films making the cut. And surprise surprise…Heath Ledger has been nominated in the best supporting actor category. I just wonder if he would have been nominated had he not taken the whole method acting thing too far and accidentally OD’d. It seems that so many artists throughout history have received recognition only after their deaths – Vincent Van Gogh is a classic example. Has HL been nominated purely on the merit of his performance or is it a nod of recognition for a collection of good performances (perhaps a bit of both)? And the jackpot question: did the fact that he is dead help him win a nomination? (more…)

The conversation that inspired today’s rant went as follows: Me: “I wanna write about Slipknot today.” Friend: “Why don’t you write about Beauty. Something that you don’t usually write about. You just wanna write about metal bands.” Me: “Bitch – metal is beauty!” Friend: “No id id’nt!” We then proceeded to beat the crap out of each other whilst all of our co-workers cheered us on. I mean…I wish that we had beaten the crap out of each other whilst all of our co-workers cheered us on. Or even better, cheered me on. A crazy bitch fight would have made my boring-ass of a day at work a little more interesting. Anyway, that conversation inspired two thoughts (it happens occasionally). 1. I wish I could be Tyler Durden (but still a girl) and 2. How relative the notion of beauty actually is. (more…)