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superbwren · 9 years

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A Night In With Anxiety

I have trouble making my body do anything. The Herculean effort it took simply to sit up has made my brain sputter like an old car. It’s not sadness, and yet I want to cry, feeling the need behind the eyes but nothing eventuating. I look at the time and count the hours of sleep I can still get, maybe. I decide to make quick choices. I throw myself out of bed and down the stairs, striding into the kitchen; I pour some gin, probably too much, into a bulbous glass. I scan the booze shelf- no mixers. I check the fridge. Nothing. Can you have gin with water? I’ve never tried. It sounds gross. I find some ancient lime cordial. I put too much, overcompensating. It’s grotesquely sweet. I add water, still too sweet. I take it upstairs anyway. My hands shake enough that I have to carry with my glass with both, like a child.

I sit on the floor, feeling like a change of pace is needed (I have been in bed for some five hours by this point); I sit close to my open wardrobe, wanting to climb in. It reminds me of the big, clothes-filled cupboard I would climb into as a child, when I would literally bury myself in my parent’s clothing and close the doors and feel safe and hidden, listening to people plodding about outside my little dungeon, unawares. Sometimes I would bring a book and a torch.

I see no point in burying myself in clothes I will myself have to pack away later, so I sit cross-legged and stare at the purple rug. I think about the rug to distract from the problems I consider so gargantuan and terrifying; “I got it from ISHKA...in my first share-house...it was on sale...looks good for a few years old...” I stare at the fibers for a long time and my eyes start to hurt. I take off my glasses, looking now at nothing. I read on my phone about ‘mindfulness exercises’. I try some. I am bad at them.

I am terrible at meditating- I can’t concentrate on nothing. I can easily give all my attention to a book or a film or my dog or any stimulus really, but I can’t act the cattle dog and corral my mind into submission. I can’t make it stop thinking about the thing I’m currently worried about, or those other thirty things I can worry about too, or even that thing I don’t even need to worry about but why not. I can create whole worlds of worry.

I try focused breathing. It is what it sounds like. My mind races with my most recent worries and I can’t close my eyes because my imagination tacks the back of my eyelids with all those things I want to avoid thinking about for a few minutes. I keep trying. My heart rate slows, but I still feel rotten and beaten up. I pick at a rebel weave in the rug. It is only when I go to the extremes that I begin to feel better: how my current set of problems are minuscule in not only the grand scheme of my life, but the world. Somehow my mind is assuaged by the idea that the heat death of the universe will wipe out my problems, eventually. I am frequently diverted into unrealistic healing techniques when logical options fail. I try the breathing thing once more before crawling, quite literally, back into bed.

A heavy, sinister rain belts the outside of the house. I like storms. It’s the weather equivalent of that hiding-in-the-cupboard feeling. My dog gets scared and buries herself under the blanket. I have no energy to tell her not to, even though I will be annoyed tomorrow at dog hair in my sheets. I spend a little while softly scratching the inside of my hands, running my nails up the inside of their dexter counterpart, until the rain stops suddenly and my brain is out at sea again. This is now. I can feel the weight of the look on my face. I stare at an octopus toy on my bed (”Got it from Scienceworks...that day I went with Claire...I wore that cute skirt I don’t seem to wear much anymore...spent too much money that day, though...”) until I decide I can possibly face having a movie on until I fall asleep (I would not say ‘watching’ at this point); my computer tells me that the Complete Mr Bean has finished downloading. Some victories are too small to even consider victories, but anything less than a distressing defeat is cause for sensation. I fall asleep to Rowan Atkinson stuffing steak tartar in a violinist’s pants.

#anxiety #depression

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superbwren · 9 years

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I Got Yer Comedy Right Here Buddy

There’s an utter shedload of shows on for Comedy Festival. Here’s some you should see! Or not, I’m not your damn mother.

Alasdair Tremblay-Birchall and His Amazing Disappearing Enthusiasm Alasdair manages to combine ideas both big and small into his routines; talking about the creation of the universe one minute, and the strangeness of his own belly the next. His shows often cover universal concepts like finding your way in life or getting meaning out of one’s job, and then drilling down and finding something unique, or bizarre, or special, to talk about within it. Alasdair also has some of the best delivery in the business, if you’re into dry and friendly Canadians.

Martin Dunlop - All Change is Death Martin has long been a favourite of mine for what I would describe as his charming bravery on stage. There’s a sort of comedian who will talk at you about “dangerous” or “offensive” topics simply because they want to shock you, or upset you, or because they think being edgy is a sign of quality (hello Alex Williamson, Daniel Tosh, etc; etc.); Martin will delve into macabre or unusual avenues of thought, sure, but it’s never a disquieting ride; he never does this to set you on edge, or make you sad. He genuinely wants to make you laugh and think and feel something; it’s not a bad thing to talk about concepts we all readily accept like death and posit them in a way you hadn't done before.

Nellie White - Idiot Dick Damn I love Nellie White. If there’s one thing a raging femmo like me can appreciate, it’s people that don’t bullshit you on stage. Nellie brings all manner of topics to the table and doesn't bother sugar-coating or dolling them up. Why would you, when things like dick pics are so funny as is? In her semi-deadpan style, she often covers things like sex and pornography in an unashamed way because, why should we be ashamed? We should be able to talk about things most of us do, like sex and masturbation and weird threesomes, without getting weirded out or embarrassed (I mean, if you do, that’s fine, but some of us are happy as clams to chat about vaginas). Nellie takes you to a place free of shame but full of goddamn brilliant observations.

Tessa Waters - Womanz

If you haven't heard tell of Womanz by now, what is even going on with you? Tessa Waters won a million awards at the Melbourne Fringe last year and has been touring as Womanz, a bloody beacon of joy, for months now, hitting up all the festivals. What is Womanz, though? Big hair. Dancing. Sequins. Horned helmets. Butts. Feminism. It’s not just cabaret, it’s not just performance, it’s an hour with a woman who will tear your face off. Pre-book, too, because it is definitely going to sell out most nights.

Beau Heartbreaker

Beau is a product of the brilliant brain of Selina Jenkins; a down-home country lad with a fabulous beard and golden voice. Beau is a bloody charmer who sings brilliant, cheeky songs. As well as the musical aspect, Beau is also a testament to Jenkins’ character work and physical comedy. Beau gives some of the best face in the business.

Celia Pacquola - Let Me Know How It All Works Out

My only advice is to go to the show. Just do it. Pre-book, because it will sell-out, and just go. Celia is just an amazing stand-up act that will make even the hardest-hearted of you roll with laughter. Just go!

Daniel Connell - The Get Out Stakes

Daniel is doing a show this year about his six-year gambling addiction. Doesn't sound like the kind of material one might normally find humour in, but Daniel gets in there. Daniel has a friendly, easygoing quality about his performance that makes him very accessible and likeable on stage. The show promises to be an amalgam of funny stories and observations that cover why, indeed, he put so much money on horses, and the kinds of people he met in the TAB.

Claire Sullivan - Space Cadet

Claire is so fabulously weird. The show promises much of what Claire does best: whimsical journeys, dodgy props and a feast of characters. Claire has the kind of endless creative ideas train that I envy; she has something new for every set and you can bet you've never seen it before. As a performer and, more recently, a cast member for Channel 31′s Live on Bowen, she is always bringing weird and wonderful joy to the table.

Clara Cupcakes - The Merchant of Whimsy

Although known as a burlesque performer, Clara Cupcakes is indeed that, and then some. Like Claire, and many others on the list, a Clara Cupcakes set is always unique, interesting and engrossing. There’s always a bevy of costumes, dancing, physical humour and Clara’s brilliant on-point face acting. Put it this way, I've seen a Clara Cupcakes set that was just the lady herself and a series of sheets and I was laughing like mad.

Kate Dehnert - Pony Yell

Kate has a real knack for making funny, silly songs that are also totally catchy; I get them stuck in my head a lot and I ain’t mad. Her 2014 show, Noise Adventure was one of those shows everyone was madly chatting about: it’s not just musical comedy, it’s like a fun concert where you wish you weren't seated so you could get up and dance.

Lauren Bok, Chelsea Hughes and Megan McKay - Wander Women

A sketch show about the trials and fun of travelling. Each one of these performers is an excellent stand-up and performer in their own rights and I’m super excited about the culmination of their powers. As comedians, each of them has yards of unique and clever ideas that will no doubt come in gusto in this show.

Laura Davis - Ghost Machine

Laura Davis is another one of those acts that people rave about, especially come festival time, and you end up feeling bad if you don’t go to see the show. So, go see it! Laura always has weird stories and friendly banter to go alongside her off-the-wall asides and funny, bizarre thought trains.

Kirsten Law - Man Academy

“What about the menz tho?!” you may be shouting. I know, right? Bloody WOMEN taking over EVERYTHING, amirite? Luckily, Kirsten Law is here in Man Academy where she will teach men how to be awesome again. For real, I am really excited to see Kirsten send up the sort of “women against feminism” and MRA idiots we all are laughing at already.

Head to comedyfestival.com.au and check out all the other shows available- LET’S FUCKING DO THIS.

#comedy #standup comedy #melbourne international comedy festial #MICF #melbourne

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superbwren · 9 years

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Tales of a Former Asshole

I was a latecomer to feminism. The phrase, "better late than never" comes to mind, and I suppose there is no statute of limitations on when one might have their feminist awakening, but I was an asshole for way too long.

I didn't have any kind of feminist upbringing; my parents, dear to me though they are, were more concerned with getting the rent paid and and making sure the car was running okay than of instilling their daughters with any kind of social justice ideas. It wasn't that they were averse to it; they just didn't know otherwise.

So it wasn't until I was coming into my mid-twenties that I realized what the nuggets of feminist thought and whispering in my mind of wanting better for myself actually were. I had felt happy pangs of recognition reading modern and historical feminist writers; I was excited, but I didn't know what about. I hadn't put a name to it yet; I just knew that I shuddered when friends laughed and taunted other women, and that I was down to my heart horrified by how I had accepted the treatment of women in society as both acceptable and expected.

Living with the internet has helped; for all their downsides, places like Tumblr and Twitter have been amazing outlets for feminist thought, making connections and learning about other facets of the world you may not have been privy to otherwise. It's not like they were teaching intersectionality or rape culture or trans* rights in school- certainly not mine, anyway.

So now I'm making up for lost time: I'm learning everything I can, practicing compassion and inclusion. Getting angry, staying active. Learning from mistakes, accepting fault, recognizing my privilege. Learning every day how, from birth, I have been expected to kowtow, or to fail; to resign myself to whatever scraps from the big boy's table is offered to me. Society has so deeply rooted the idea of a white-male supremacist patriarchy that, rather than be presented with any other options, one must go looking for them- long and hard days of searching, since white dudes have buried themselves in like a tick.

Happy International Women's Day to everyone on the right side of the battle.

#International Womens Day #feminism #feminist

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superbwren · 9 years

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