I'm Writing About Helen Razer On My Mummyblog.

Hello tonight I'm launching Helen Razer's outstandingly brilliant new book called The Helen 100. It's her account of being left heartbroken after being unceremoniously left by her long-term partner so what did Helen do? Took the advice of her beautician/vaginal/anal waxer and went online and dated all these people. A whole host of people from all walks of life. She was searching for a person who liked the smell of chicken. (Cooked chicken, I checked.)

So it's at Gleebooks tonight at 6 for 6.30pm and you should come and watch two annoying obnoxious women onstage talking incredibly inappropriately. Tix available HERE or I think at the door. Cost is $12 or $9, or somewhere between the two.

You can buy the book HERE or I think tonight at Gleebooks. Twenty years ago I had a panic attack at the self-help section in Gleebooks because I couldn't find a book on panic attacks. Gleebooks is located in Glebe. I used to listen to Helen and Judith's Lucy's radio show The Ladies Lounge back in the 90's while I was a nanny for this guy's two children. He is now dead but he used to make a helluva good coffee. He taught me how to bake a potato and that when a kid pisses the bed you put the mattress outside in the sun because the sun makes ammonia go away, or something.

I don't particularly want to travel to Sydney today because I'm currently in the one of the worst clinical depressions and spiritual crises I've ever known but I adore Helen and it will be a very, very good night had by all. Afterwards I'll travel back up to the safe mountains and be reminded that I can do Big Things and maybe my life isn't over after all.

Helen once launched her own pisstake mummyblog called The Sponsored Lady which ruffled feathers but I thought it was hilarious. Helen's next book is on Marxism because she is very very smart. If it was anybody else but Helen I'd just cancel going tonight but it's Helen and I love Helen.

If you're coming, please come and say hello if you'd like some stilted awkward smalltalk because I'm actually a very shy and socially inept person. Or go talk to Helen herself, it's her show. The level of self-hate I currently have is astronomical but we have just got to Live Through This like Courtney after Kurt died. We'll all be dead soon enough CHEERY! Anyway, any pics coming through on Facebook or instagram will probably look great and that's the main thing here. Hashtag is #thehelen100 .. I just made that hashtag up, hope that's ok Gleebooks and Allen and Unwin.

Ok laters. My biggest concern is choosing the right cowboy books and compiling the right questions to ask her tonight, thank god she's very verbose.

ADDENDUM: It went really, really fucking well. A little bit X-rated but well. Audience awesome. I can do big things. Huge.

"You can stack misery, you can pack despair - you can even wear your sorrow. But come tomorrow, you must change your clothes."

Spent the weekend getting loved back to life.

My cousin Morgie white-saged my flat before I went down and stayed at her and her parents place for three nights. Sat around the dinner table laughing and eating soulfood. Pissed myself laughing at an altercation in the kitchen about the utilisation of the correct worm farm bucket "WELL LABEL IT PROPERLY." 

D&M's and tears and splayed legs on the lounge with my cousins. Incredibly dark humour and preposterously inappropriate You Tube videos. And just love, yannow? Shouldn't be so hard to just love each other. Asked Rocco last week what the most important things in life are and he said exactly what I hoped he'd say: "Family and love." Simple and difficult as that. All the yesterdays are gone like they are so far gone they are all goners. #gone

I need to be hit up but with meditation shit and spiritual healing and laughter and belonging. I've never listened to a podcast in my life, anyone know some good wholesome multigrain-bread ones that feed you? This fucking shame I been carrying around for 44 years? Nuh. Don't belong to me no more. Slathering my bedroom with inspiration happy bullshit rainbow quotes NOT like "You can do this!" But shit like, "You are doing the best you can even if you're the only one that knows it." Or, "Forgive those arseholes so much that one day you won't call them arseholes anymore." Or, "You did not murder a thousand people don't be so hard on yourself." Or, "Eden, you're not a victim pull your socks up ffs." Or, "What if it all really DID happen for some inane ridiculous reason?" Or, "You are so not the cunt you think you are." Or, "It wasn't your job to save your brother." Or, "You are the best mother you know how to be. You are the best mother you know how to be." Or, "Make your bed you lazy shit you KNOW it makes you feel better." Or, "Mental illness is actually real."

Or my favourite one at the moment ... "Things will not always be like this." 

Hey, they already aren't. For a long while now my life has been a series of setbacks and traumas and awful and AWFUL and then I keep bouncing back, repetitively, ride in on a horse announcing my triumphant return but this time, no triumphant return. Just a bit of goddamn scraggly hope, a few pipe dreams (not pipe bombs) .. and a quiet faith. Eminem said once he hit a fork in the road and went straight - I hit a brick wall with no helmet while I was being all Evel Knievel but Evil does not become me and I will not feed the monsters in me anymore. Those pricks don't even deserve a fucken BBQ Chazoo. My monsters are nil by mouth and my apparent Angels or guardians or whatever some other-worldy shit that's protected me my whole life? They can take the wheel for a while because I suck at life. Even the Vikings got defeated and knew when to retreat. I think it's a case of waiting it out under somebody else's umbrella that somebody is holding on for you because I swear on my non-existent grave - sometimes? Other people have to hold on for us and to us until the hailshitstorm recedes. Then one day we're the ones holding the umbrella for somebody else.

And so you know how there's a trillion things all over the internet screaming LOOK AT ME WATCH THIS .... well, watch this. Seriously. Trust me - I'm a limo driver.

(PS If you're reading this and you've been reading me for years and I owe you an email or poem or reply or anything - thank you and sorry and it's coming. Most of all, I love you people. Real. I feel you out there, livin'. Sometimes getting through the ungetthroughable.) x