I'm Confused..

Which if you know me well isn't that unusual - however - what I'm really confused about is the 'Real Housewives' Franchise. They aren't housewives, some are single (I never met a single looking-for-love woman who also stated her main occupation for the tax man was housewivery).

They're all from the same mould as far as I can tell, waaaay too much of everything - don't let me get started on 'Real Housewives of Orange County'.

Do they actually DO any housework? I doubt it. They discuss their 'help' openly in disparaging terms which I think is distasteful - it's a television show - how would YOU like to find out that you've disappointed your boss via a television show? Along with everyone else you know?

All they seem to do is swan about looking vile in far too much makeup, accessories, sparkly dresses that are either too short or show too much saggy cleavage eagerly seeking their next G&T or cheap champagne.

And bitching about each other. They don't hold back on dissing a sister, in the same manner a brick won't stop a reservoir's output. And bitchslapping each other frequently - that seems to be more the point of the show, but why and how is that entertainment, enough to keep replicating the concept further and further afield?

I'm wondering when the Real Housewives will roll out a show from Maungaturoto. Not that there's anything wrong with Maungaturoto - there isn't - it's a perfectly lovely little country town, but the real housewives would be more likely to be sporting rolling pins and dish cloths and expressions suggesting much experience and little time for bollocks, there wouldn't be any in-fighting as each participant knows that the community in which they exist means that being neighbourly keeps the hearth fires burning.

There'd be no bitchslapping, more scone making and recipe swapping, they would save the drink for Saturday nights and sit round a fire talking or singing long in to the night.

I don't understand why the show is even titled 'Housewives' as they are so far removed from the reality of actual housekeeping its an insult to all housewives and househusbands out there.

It should be called Bitchy Tarts of The OC/Atlanta/Melbourne/New York. I like it, I should suggest it to the producers.

:-)

Lost and Found

So there sat I, smugly enjoying my flat white and freshly baked raspberry muffin (delicious by the way - my compliments to their maker) and watching all the people hurrying past my little window. Where were they going I was thinking, off to get an early lunch, on their way to a meeting? I got my tablet out - not the kind you swallow: the kind you can play games on and send emails from - and checked my email, looked at a couple of posts on The Book of The Faces and decided people-watching was far more entertaining so I snapped it shut and put it to one side.

Of course you can guess what happened next. I gathered up all my belongings, waved goodbye to the lovely counter staff and walked up the hill to get a bus home. It was only when we were hurtling through Cremorne that I realised I'd left my beloved tablet on the table next to mine and seeing I was without a phone (forgot to take it with me that morning) I'd have to wait until I got home to call the cafe to see if it's been spotted and sitting safely behind their counter.

I rang them as soon as I walked in through our front door. Nope, not there.

Maybe I'd left it at the chemists when I bought some tissues? No, no one had forgotten any scripts that morning - then I had to explain it was a portable computer not a tablet that you swallow. But then I HAD rung a chemist so it was only natural for them to assume I was asking about a pill.

I rang North Sydney Police Station - nope not there.

It was at this point that I had to realise it was gone for good, and the best thing I could do would be to get it service-locked so whomever had it wasn't able to use it. And see what I could do about getting a new one.

It was whilst I was on hold to my Internet Service Provider that I decided to check my emails on my laptop - and lo and behold there was an email from myself to myself asking if I'd lost a tablet. It had been found! It was safe and sound with a lady by the name of Jen, who had thoughtfully included her mobile number as well. She asked me which cafe I was in - just as a security check and of course I was able to name the right one - and I got her address and advised her that it would be my partner coming to collect it - and all was fine. This morning my tablet is sitting next to me on the sofa happily charging and it came to mind how many things of value that I have misplaced over the years only to get them back completely in tact and not meddled with in any way:

I left a wallet stuffed with cash on a park bench not far from my apartment and got it back with all cash present and accounted for

I left a new watch on a bus - got it back

I left my wallet on a seat in the middle of Dubbo - got it back

I've sent a wedding invitation to the wrong address and had it returned to me - they don't realise how important that bit was!

Countless pairs of sunglasses have been left in all sorts of places, and I've got every pair except for one back.

I am either extraordinarily lucky, or there are many good people out there. I prefer to believe that there are more good people out there than we realise. The planet so far seems stuffed with them. Who would return a wallet containing a thousand dollars and not be tempted to even take one $50 note for themselves?

So each time I lose something of value (and kick myself all the way to picking it up from where ever it's been handed in) my personal faith in mankind is deepened and I'm pleasantly surprised by the goodness of strangers. What a lovely thing to recognise.

Bless.