
My love of playing guitar is greater than my longing to have manicured hands like other adult women.
Blisters on my left hand are from playing bass, grazes on my right hand from playing an acoustic. Shred life.

I played at a house show in North Rockhampton on Australia Day, along with Lockjaw (pictured above). The small punk/hardcore community here makes me feel so excited and so hopeful about life and creativity. I think there’s a lot to be said for the punk ethic of just jumping in and getting shit done.

The rains have come a few months late, which is fine by me. In fact, I wouldn’t have minded if they’d taken a year off after last year’s floods.
Not long after I took this photo, a tree in my front yard was struck by lightning and crashed down where my car usually stands. Ah, Queensland.

The first Benjamin Family Circus for 2012 happened in Brisbane this weekend for my Granny’s 80th birthday.
My cousin Dommie put together a wonderful book of Granny’s life, featuring research my sister and I had worked on. I’ve written about Granny’s life before – it’s certainly been eventful.
Here’s Dad reading a letter he wrote to Granny (his mother) when he was four years old, which my cousin had put into the book.
My siblings and Granny are laughing because he isn’t sticking to the script.

I spent a large amount of time arguing with Vodafone this week. I’ve been with them since late 2005 and was really happy with their service until around 18 months ago. My Android phone has bricked itself for the third time in its 18 months of existence and since Rocky doesn’t have a Vodafail shop, I’ve been forced to use the relic pictured above for phone calls and texts.
I can’t do battle with their call centre as their service drops every second call I make. Yep, it’s really that bad. I’ve been communicating with their social media team and emailed their tech support with a job number, but haven’t received any contact in 4 days. Telecommunications ombudsman, here I come.







The bossiest shop in Rockhampton.
When I was in high school, Rockhampton’s East Street Mall was a terrifying place of empty shops and slippery tiles, populated by drunks and aggressive homeless people.
They’ve cleaned it up a bit over the past five years, but the long-time retailers are jaded, tough as nails and totally over dealing with the dodgy East Street regulars.
My sister was on the hunt for a costume for a fancy dress party, so we took a deep breath and headed into the costume shop on the mall. As well as carrying a wide range of costumes and Bundaberg Rum merchandise, this shop was also home to a large number of passive-aggressive and downright bossy signs.
Something tells me they have a problem with shoplifters.
