#maybe i should start wearing a high-vis vest so people will ignore me

[fingertipsmp3]

Going for a run when I don’t want to makes me feel like the most productive person alive idk

[seven-dragons]

Drabble Challenge: Blake Friday

Happy Blake Friday everyone!  @it-is-bugs gave us Blake Friday but I double dipped and did the costume prompt I meant to do a few weeks ago.  All the digital gods have been against me and I am posting this with 1 bar of cell service, so either it will be 1600 words of fic, or 4 eggplant emoji.  I won’t find out until I am home in a few days.  Anyway, enjoy!

Lucien stood tall and imposing in his tuxedo, patiently waiting while Jean fussed over his tie and some other details only she could see.  On the whole, Jean seemed more excited than he was.

"A masked ball!  That's a novel idea for a charity function.  I don't think I have ever heard of such a thing in Ballarat."

Jean stepped back and Lucien examined himself in the mirror.

"Well, I think Patrick and the board were trying to step things up this year, bring in more big spenders.  The whole thing seems tedious to me, but as a member I need to do my bit."

"Then you'd better get going.  Don't forget this."

Jean offered up a sequined mask in royal blue.

"Ah yes, wouldn't be a masked ball without it."

"You and Joy have a good time."

Lucien gave a perfunctory nod before heading out the door.  He turned at the doorway to see Jean watching after him, hands clasped in front of her. 

"Maybe if they do it again next year I'll see if I can get you a ticket, eh?"

"A ball?" Jean demurred,  "Much too fancy for me. Go or you'll be late."

As Lucien drove away he felt a pang of guilt.  It had not occurred to him for a moment to ask Jean to attend.  She was his housekeeper and bringing her as a date to a social function would be laughable.  But he wondered if she might have enjoyed the night out.  Lucien thought of the dreary evening to come - tiring conversations, dull town dignitaries full of themselves, being polite to people he despised.  It would be nice to have a friend like Jean be his side.

Joy was fine company.  She was attractive, confident, and had a keen intellect that excited his mind and if he were honest, other parts of him as well.  After so many years alone it was nice to  have a romantic prospect.  She was a good match for him, but there was a coldness to her as well, a lack of compassion beyond what was needed to get what she wanted.  She would look good on his arm, and say all the right things to the right people, but he couldn't help feel like he was going to face the evening alone.

The Colonists Club was decked out in silver and blue.  Rather than holding the event in a ballroom the steering committee elected to have a roving party of sorts throughout the club. There were rooms for cocktails, a room for dancing, rooms for quiet conversation.  Drinks and food were on hand in each room, with musicians tucked away in every corner.  Lucien could not help but be impressed.  

Lucien and Joy made their way throughout the party, and after a few drinks he found he could be charming to the most self-important men and their even more self-important wives.  He even managed to be cordial to Patrick Tynneman. Eventually they settled in to a quiet table in one of the lounges.

"By the way Joy, you look lovely tonight."

Joy was wearing a long white beaded dress that flared at the hips.  Her mask was feathered and looked vaguely like a swan.

"Why thank you, Lucien, I had a devil of a time..."

Joy had launched into an explanation of the purchase and tailoring of her gown, but Lucien was distracted by a commotion on the other side of the room.  A woman had entered, and was holding court while several men vied for her attention, offering to bring her drinks or something to eat.  She was utterly striking.  An elegant emerald green satin gown stretched over her lithe frame.  Little buttons ran down the long sleeves like something out of an Arthurian painting.  Her face was obscured be a mask of peacock feathers.  Lucien could make out hints of copper-brown curls peaking out from behind the mask, but nothing more.  He was mesmerized.  So apparently was everyone else in the room.  In a corner, Cec looked on approvingly.  Lucien bolted from his seat, ignoring the exclamation from Joy as he turned away.  Cec smiled as he approached.

“Are you enjoying your evening, sir?”

“Yes, thank you.  Tell me, Cec.  Who’s that woman over there?”

“Why my date, sir.”

“Your date?”

“Yes.  All staff working tonight got a free ticket.”

“I see.  Who is the lovely lady?”

Cec smiled.

“Just an old friend.”

By way of ending the conversation, Cec offered to bring Lucien another drink.  He returned to his table and a frosty Joy.

“What was that about?”

“Oh nothing.  I thought I saw someone I knew.  My mistake.”

Lucien gulped the remainder of his drink to avoid answering any more questions.

The rest of the evening was a blur.  He tried his best to entertain Joy, and to be charming company to everyone else, but he was preoccupied by the women he saw earlier.  She was so familiar, yet the way she commanded attention made him sure he had never seen the likes of her in Ballarat before.  He was determined to find out who she was.  This was easier said than done.  The Colonists Club was a warren of dark rooms filled with colorful costumes and masks that left him feeling disoriented.  It was hard to tell friend from stranger let alone find a specific person.  

Towards the end of the evening Joy had finally succeeded in cajoling Lucien towards the dance floor.  As they entered the room Lucien stopped short.  There was the woman in green, dancing gracefully with man Lucien vaguely recognized as a friend of Jean’s from the church.  However the man was of no concern to him.  Even while dancing she never took the mask off and he still could not see her face. He wondered if this might be his chance to introduce himself.  Perhaps he could at least ask Jean’s friend what the lady’s name was.

“Lucien?  Lucien!”

Lucien snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Joy with a forced smile.

“Since you clearly have other things on your mind then dancing, I’m going to powder my nose.”

Joy walked off in a huff, just as the song was ending.  Lucien stood watching the woman, considering his next move.  Should he cut in?  Try and pull her aside?  But to his relief the man and woman parted with a few words and she headed in his direction.

“Hello there!”

The woman stopped and regarded him carefully.  He cursed the elaborate mask she was wearing.  Was she smiling at him?  Frowning?  They were finally face to face and he could not muster up anything more witty than hello.  The scent of jasmine wafted around her and it was distracting. 

“Lovely evening.”

Lucien definitely detected crinkles around a pair of dazzling light green eyes.  She was smiling at him.

“Yes, yes it is, isn’t it?”

Lucien was struck by her voice.  It was high, yet warm and so very familiar.  The band stuck up another tune and Lucien started to ask her dance, but was interrupted.

“There you are, my dear.  I am ready for that dance now.”

The woman laughed, a rich, musical sound.  She took the hand Cec offered and turned away without another word.  Lucien thought to wait them out and try again, but the appearance of Joy scowling put an end to it.

“If it’s all the same to you I’d like to leave now, Lucien.”

Lucien hung his head.  He’d been a boor and he knew it.

“Yes, of course.”

It was a frosty ride back to Joy’s hotel.  When the evening started he had though it might end with an invite upstairs for a nightcap.  Instead she all but dumped him in the car, suggesting that they might take some time to think about what they wanted from each other.  Lucien know that “they” meant “him.”

By the time Lucien arrived home his head was pounding.  He had behaved himself all evening and was in need of a stiff drink.  He couldn’t help but think he’s lost two women that night, even though he didn't have the foggiest idea who the second one was.  He wondered how Cec got so lucky.  Lucien was surprised to find the house in complete silence.  He had expected to find Jean in her bathrobe and hairnet waiting up for him to hear all about the ball.  Instead the house felt empty.  Drink in hand, Lucien sat down on his bed and slowly divested himself of his tuxedo.  He was down to his slacks and vest when he heard the front door open and quickly shut, followed by the sound of feet padding carefully down the hall.  Lucien wondered who was up and about at such a late hour.  

Lucien stepped carefully out of his bedroom and looked around.  The house was still quiet, but there was a single peacock feather laying at the base of the stairs.  Lucien picked it up examined it closely.  A faint hint of jasmine sent his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense, but it was the only possibility.  The eyes, the voice, the feeling that they had met before, they all pointed to Jean.  Yet she had said nothing.  Cec had said nothing.  

At the top of the stairs, Lucien could see light spilling out from Jean’s bedroom.  He could make out the sound of Jean humming to herself.  The mystery woman in green who had enchanted him all night might be at the top of the stairs.  He might get to see her face after all.  Calling out her name softly, Lucien ascended the stairs, letting the feather fall to the ground behind him.

[raiseyourhandsforequaliy-blog]

March for Men

I will go more into my background in later blogs. But I want to talk about the March for Men for my first blog as that and some inspiring people have triggered my wanting to start this blog. (I just wanted to put that disclaimer in first) So it was a beautiful winter Melbourne day (for once). The last two Saturdays it had hailed. That was one of my biggest fears was that we would be rained or in this case hailed out. I had this image of everyone running for cover over the pelting balls of ice. But as mentioned it was a beautiful sunny day. I don't even think there was a cloud in the sky, I wore a warm blacktop thinking it will at the very least be cold, but part of me wished I didn't wear this particular top as I was overly warm at times. So now hopefully you can picture the day at Federation Square. As I walked towards Federation Square I could see the crowds swell. But what really shocked me was the police presence, across the road in front of St Paul's Cathedral. Its like they were on standby, this couldn't be for just us I thought as I walked past a very small demonstration of African Australians in red t-shirts and sweaters chanting free Bobi Wine. So I automatically thought that at least part of this massive police presence was for this small group of people. But as I got closer to the congregation of a March for Men and saw several police officers on horseback almost blocking the area that the organizers were setting up for the days events. As a female, I was wondering if they would let me through. Would every female feel this way that came to support the cause? Are people going to look at me and other females thinking is she one of them or one of us? I got there early and there was a spreading of about 20-30 people getting everything ready. They were all wearing these white t-shirts with a March for Men printed across the front. It was their uniform for the day. They wore them with pride as did everyone else that purchased one for the amazingly cheap cost of $10, the proceeds went to Dads in Destress and the costs for organizing the event. They were handing out free stickers (I put one across my chest because there was no way they had one in my fat size) and flags that we all waved proudly. I sat at the opposite end of where I entered, there were stairs leading down to Flinders Street. I stood at the top of these stairs before I placed my fat ass on a small brick wall (this would become my home and safe haven for the remaining time of us all being at Federation Square). At the bottom of the stairs was something that literally shocked me. About 10-15 police officers in hi-vis vests were standing side by side to protect us. So I sat my ass down looking at one particular man hoping he was my Facebook friend Robert. He had helped me, supported me and gave me information if I asked for it. I felt safe with the police surrounding us, but this got my adrenaline pumping. I was getting excited. The man I had been looking at approached me recognizing me from Facebook (thank god, I didn't want to be one of those people that put up a pic of themselves that in reality looks nothing like them). Robert and I had finally met, my guru for my personal beliefs. We entered into some small talk as you do when you meet someone for the first time. But he was always going to busy as he was one of the speakers for the event and he knew a lot of people. This in itself made me feel special as I knew someone that important and he took time out to come and greet me and make me feel welcome. I sat back down and waited for the one or two people I knew that would turn up. I was a nobody in this. Just another supporter. I took a couple of pics of my surroundings including the army of police at the bottom of the stairs trying to soak it all in. My friend James turned up with his beautiful daughter he bought enough t-shirts to clothe a small African village. So we started to mingle with other people around us, all proudly wearing t-shirts and stickers across our chests and backs supporting the day. As more people entered our area there seemed to be more police enter. We heard each other's stories. One elderly lady Mary told me that she was here because her ex-daughter-in-law had stopped access to her son for their children. So she hadn't seen her grandchildren in over 9 months. This broke my heart as my own son lost his grandmother (my mother) 4 years earlier and he missed her every day. But these children were denied access to their grandparents because of the mother. We need to get the message across to all parents that to deny access to the other parent, you may be punishing that parent due to you just plain not getting along, But that parent or the grandparents that have nothing to do with the fight between you and your ex, but you are punishing your child. It takes two to make the child, it should take two to raise them. Yes, I know that there are some extreme circumstances where the child is far better off without the other parent in their life. But in reality, this isn't as common as people are lead to believe, by media or even social media. But what breaks my heart as a woman and single mother it's usually the mothers that deny this access. So I am sitting watching the crowd growing, listening to people sharing their messages and reason as to why they turned up today. I was walking around taking pics where I could. I started to feel the love thanks to the major organizer Sydney Watson, we had come together a created a family for a few hours. It was a true solidarity. Robert introduced me to another speaker for the day Chani, it was a quick meet and small pleasantries were exchanged, but to be honest, I didn't know who she was and she didn't know who I was. All I knew is she was a lot more important than myself as she was behind the t-shirt table and talking to the well guarded Sydney who had a tall muscular man dressed all in black and wearing what looked like a bulletproof vest. The image reminding me of the SWAT teams you see in action movies. This was the intensity of the direction the day was heading. Basically, police barricades and a guy that looked like he belonged in one of the Expendables movies was somewhat frightening. They were all there to protect us. But protect us from what. Was it really going to get that bad, was mine and everyone else's life in danger, maybe not life but even just our safety. And if it was, from who. Who was threatening our safety and/or lives for supporting men? Avi the MC and the other organizer for the day was giving out random announcements about the t-shirts and updating us at the start time. The crowd of 20 had swelled to about 500-600. There were a few other facebook friends that recognized me from facebook. This felt really good as I was finally feeling that I belonged there and they knew I was one of them, So my day family grew and the love for each other grew stronger. People I had been wanting to meet crossed my path as we exchanged hugs of solidarity and pride, knowing that our passion for what we stood for was building in us. There were people there from different backgrounds, women, children, the wheelchair-bound, different religions and nationalities and sexual orientation. But none of that mattered for we were one. We didn't see each other's nationalities, genders, disabilities or sexual preference. All we saw was support for what we each individually perceived as men's rights. Now the time came, what we all had gathered for, the main event. Avi was an amazing MC and introduced the beautiful Sydney Watson (yes she is stunning and tiny. Such a strong woman coming from such a skinny body. True admiration from me). She gave her speech with her bodyguard close by, thanking all of us for being there. But the more she spoke the louder the chant from the other side of the wall grew. To my ignorance, I didn't even know who was protesting, I have since been told and still don't know who they are. But they were spewing the most god-awful things calling us Nazis and KKK. Which didn't make sense as to what we were all there for  But the speakers stood strong and kept the focus on the messages they needed to share. My now good friend Robert spoke giving examples of stories of what men and boys face in today's world. A lot of what he said I knew, but it still angered me. Other things shocked me like what they do with the foreskin of circumcised males. Here I thought it was just thrown away, was I wrong, sometimes its used in makeup, So here I stood on what was once my seat, feeling ashamed of the makeup I was wearing and not knowing if I had some substance on my face that I didn't want to be there. Do I have to check all my cosmetics to see if they contain foreskin and what do these cosmetic companies call it on the ingredients?  as I am sure it's not called willy skin.  The lovely Chani got up and shared her story, https://sites.google.com/view/equalityinreproduction/march-for-men-speech. (It's her story to share not mine). Sadly it was during her speech some idiot let off an air horn that I later found out was hidden in a esky.  But she didn't give up. She stood strong and continued to share her story. This was when the protestors moved from the opposite end of where I was standing to behind me. At the bottom of the stairs where there was the 20 or so police stood, grew to three to four rows of police, it looked like there were at least 70 officers down there once again protecting us. This didn't scare me this energized me. I didn't scream any disgusting language back as they were screaming at us. I stood high and proud waving my flag, I also took out my Ipad and filmed the patheticness of their chants. Ours was simple "March for Men, Respect for All". As simple as this chant was the message was strong and united. This wasn't blocking any gender, any race, any sexual preference. This was saying we are here today to stand up for men and we respect anyone and everyone regardless of who or what they may be. We were shuffled away from our safe heaven home of the wall that we had been by for the last few hours by the police, once again for our safety. I thanked a few of them so they knew that we were grateful for them being there, regardless if they supported us or not. I know they were doing a job, but this was personal and everyone is entitled to their own beliefs without fear of persecution. These officers were entitled to their opinion of the event also, but they did their job regardless. The speeches had finished and we started to march chanting the whole way "March for men, respect for all". We stepped over the horse crap and I think we all had a little laugh. We walked out of Federation Square and down St Kilda Road. There was a sea of white t-shirts and in the distance, we could see the Shrine of Remembrance. Seeing that brought home what men and women have sacrificed to give us this freedom. I always remember a line in a song by Chris Gill called Lest we forget. The line goes "All gave some, but some gave all". Bringing what we were doing home, as in the past it was mainly men (a lot of women also) that sacrificed their lives for our freedom, for our way of life. They were heroes for doing this. Now men are made to feel like second-class citizens. Everyone that attended the march wasn't there to remove any rights of anyone else, they just wanted to be seen and heard and wanted their rights as fathers, as victims of DV and basically not wanting to feel like the boogie monster because of a few bad apples that have committed some horrendous crimes against women. Our march ended in the park that holds the shrine, opposite the Art Gallery. there were loud cheers for the organizers, all the volunteers and all those that attended. Our day family started to break up, these people that I stood by with solidarity, I wondered if I would ever see again and would we meet up in future like-minded events. I bumped into the lovely Chani again and we were able to talk a bit more. I had already learned about her story but she asked me about mine. Me thinking I didn't have a story just a passion for my version of the cause. I shared a little about myself and my history as a single mother and was surprised to learn that this passion in me has more to do with my history going back to even my mother's story, that more than likely why I feel the way I do. The day was coming to an end, I had James's African village of t-shirts in my bag so we met up for a drink at a local pub, the longer we were there the more of our day family turned up. Getting to know each other more and share our stories of the day. Talking about what a success it had been. We all shared a beer and still stood in solidarity with pride. The day finally came to an end as our white t-shirts left one by one. It was time to go home and allow the day's events to soak in. Allow reality of what we had achieved hit us. I sat on the bus updating and thanking people to my Facebook page and reading what others had posted. I was still pumping full of adrenaline. My body and feet were tired, but my brain couldn't be cut off. I got home after the 6 o'clock news so I was unable to see how they portrayed us. I didn't see anything until basically the next day. What I saw broke my heart. Not one news crew reported the events correctly. They told the world that there were two arrests, and reporting that there had been a couple of knives confiscated. To an outsider, it would come across as if we were the troublemakers. They also showed one man that was on our side smacking a woman on the ass with the end of one of the flags. This was literally the biggest crime that was committed on our side and he hardly touched her, you didn't even see her flinch. The arrests and the knife confiscations came from the protestors, not from us. They interviewed both sides and the words spoken by those that were against the March for Men really didn't know what they were protesting about. Just that it was about men, so let's protest against them because they are men. A friend posted a clip of one particular news channel when someone who is supposed to be on our side but didn't attend the march, bitched that the negative press was given because of the organizers themselves. Which angered me because I know that it didn't matter who arranged it, the press was always going to spin it and make us look like the world's perception of such beliefs. All in all the day was a huge success. I met some people that I was facebook friends with but got to know them on a deeper level. I made some great friends that I didn't even know existed but now they have become great friends and heroes. I got to hear more stories to fuel my passion and I got to experience something beautiful and feel like I was part of something I find extremely important. I am looking forward to meeting more people and learning more stories. But most of all I am looking forward to attending more events like this to show my support.