I've lost my kid.

Hello friend.. If you are reading this now then you need to GET ON BOARD with my new website as I will be phasing this blog out. All the same spelling mistakes you know and love will be over at www.emrusciano.com.au

The Blogs will be as irregular as usual, have no fear.

Enjoy my new one below as it is now a dying breed..

Em. xx

Well, it's happening. In the back of my mind I kew it was coming but had successfully blocked it out like the need for superannuation and the impending removal of my wisdom teeth.

I've lost my baby, my first born, my loving, helpful, smiley girl. Where has she gone because I bloody want her back. Seriously, I want to speak to the manager about this as what I purchased from the store 'aint what it I got now.

Hormones have taken her hostage and she now shuts the door when she showers and stomps off over some pretty trivial stuff. There is plenty of info and support for when the baby arrives and even when they fly the nest but what about when the baby orders you to walk behind her on the way home from school or when she pretends not to know you when you are loudly cheering for her during a cross country race..

She has stopped running everywhere, you know how kids do that? They run everywhere all the time, especially when they spot you after having been apart. My 5 year old still does the Dirty dancing run and jump at the end of the school day when she sees me.

I'm lucky to get eye contact with Chell when I see her after School. What the hell am I to do? I am grieving for a child lost even though she is still here.

Don't get me wrong, my eldest daughter is RAD. If I went to school with her I would totally want to be her friend. She is a gun athlete, pianist,student and she's pretty with a bit of a punk skater thrown in. I watch her at School when I am up there on Prep duties with my youngest daughter (not in a weird, stalkery, over protective way) and I am way proud of my kid.

It's just, well... She doesn't love me best anymore! Plus, this morning we had an incident..

She said IT. She said that sentence to me that I though I'd never hear and it hit me pretty hard. I rank in up there between being told you have a body odour issue and having your heart set on fire.. She said "Muuuuum, you are embarrassing me. Go away".

NO!

We reserve that statement for the Mothers who rock up in their PJ's to drop their kids off or the Dad whose arse crack is hanging out. Not the Mum who skates to school with her kid wearing vintage ADIDAS high tops with wet look electric blue leggings and leopard print nails! (Me, I'm talking about me.)

Christ it hurt, you see I consider myself the "cool" Mum.

Yes, I realise what a wanker I am even typing that sentence however I keep no secrets here.

We were playing basketball before School started today and things seemed to be going well. The bell went and I tried to give her a hug, she responded by ducking my hug attempt with the skills of an elite Ninja. It obviously didn't compute so I tried again and again same crouching tiger hidden dragon shit - hug avoided.

Finally I caught her after several attempts and forced my love onto her. She screamed the now infamous "embarrassing" line and we both took a step back and looked at each other. She saw the hurt that had been inflicted and I did what any self respecting Mother would do, I grabbed her again and kissed her on the face, she fought hard but I won.

I didn't really did I?

Her body is "changing" her moods swinging and a group of long fringed boys now come over asking if she can go skating with them out the front of our house. I remember all that, I clearly remember being 11 and feeling everything at 10 times the intensity that I feel it now.

I now realise I have to completely change my mindset towards her and put the gear into "P" for parenting. Up until now we have been buddies who compromise on a few things, Chell would always do as I asked and we were a team. Not now, now everything I say and do regarding her must be justified and negotiated. It is like living with a small, angry politician.

Still, she is kind to animals, cleans the kitchen and doesn't swear so it's not all bad..

We'll get though it. I know we can. Right guys? Right.

E. x

Em's list of what every woman should have and know by 30.

This has to be the toughest thing I have ever promised to do.

After posting Glamour magazine's 30 things a woman should have and know by the time she is 30 and openly mocking it I have found it quite difficult to compile my own list.

I wanted it to have reflective value for you all, to be applicable to your situation - to encourage you to aspire to more than just a black lacy bra and a cordless power drill (which was on Glamour's list.)

I wanted to create a list that you could print out and stick on your fridge. Something you could email around to your girlfriends, Mothers and Sistas.

The first thing that popped into my head was that you should own a mobile phone that doesn't involve prepaid credit, unless of course you are a drug dealer. Alas, that was no better than Glamour suggesting you must have an e-mail address and bank account in your own name.

I sat staring at my computer screen looking for inspiration. By the hammer of Thor! You "should" definitely know the National anthem (even the 2nd bit that no-one knows) by the time you are 30!
No Em, I said (a lot of self talk goes on around my house), how often are women going to call on that bit of information? That isn't going to make a difference in their lives.

After some pacing, dusting, lint inspecting and dog grooming it finally dawned on me..

The list is pointless. The list serves none of you any purpose, no I am not trying to get out of writing it but every time I came up with something it was either superficial, consumerist or would cause anxiety and that is the last thing I wish to do.

You are doomed to fail if you chose to follow a list printed by an American magazine in 1997.

The thing is, who am I to tell YOU what YOU should HAVE and KNOW by the time YOU are 30? Who is ANYONE to do such a thing?  It's the use of the word "should" that offends me most. Unless the person using it has achieved absolute spiritual and emotional enlightenment and can give you the one true answer then I don't want to hear it.

At the risk of sounding like someone who wears a lot of corduroy and owns a beige skivvy we are all on our own path.

As luck would have it I am married to a professional coach, and this is his thing. So I asked Scotty what I should impart onto you all and he suggested I offer some questions. So here we go (These are my words, his language is far more professional.):

1.How well is worrying about the following, serving you?

Career.
Babies.
Body.
Relationships.
Generally being perfect.

If you notice yourself worrying, that's ok just try one of the following. Can you change yourself or the situation? Can you exit the situation or is there a way to accept it?

2. Guilt - This is obviously linked to worrying. Guilt does nothing for anyone, it traps you and causes suffering. Either act or accept the reality and let it go.

3. Have you figured out what is really important to you? What are your values? -  (I pushed him on this. Coming up with your values is no easy task. He fought me and said there are many ways, I bullied him into telling me one.)

Think of one of your peak experiences, write it down using great detail and as many senses as possible - i.e. what you heard, felt, thought, saw, the mood, were you alone? With family? Were you giving to others? Was it expensive?  Re-create the richness of the experience as much as possible. Read back through it and try to exact the deeper factors that made it so good for you. Bang -VALUES! Scotty says aim for 5. He also says it's helpful to know which ones you'd drop off if you had to take it to 3 values and what your number 1 value would be.

4. Make good stuff happen. Look for easy wins, but also think about what you ultimately want. For most women it's happiness. So do things that make you happy. Go deep here ladies. I mean it, not just shoe shopping but experiences that align with your values. The satisfaction will be deeper and longer, I promise.


I know we may have drifted into wankerville but the bottom line is stop worrying and start living.

BOOM.

By the way, I suck at all of the above and I live with a dude who does it for a job. It's not easy but when you all achieve oneness I will claim a small part of your victory..

I hope this helped.

Em x

30 things a woman of 30 should supposedly have and know..

I was watching Barack Obama slow jam the news with Jimmy Fallon over at the Huffington Post and happened to glance at their list of "most read articles" and saw that the top one was "30 things every woman should have and should know by the time she's 30." 


Instantly I was interested, I had a burning desire to know if I had satisfied the lists requirements. Deep down I knew I was probably headed for crushing failure and a loss of purpose in my life but I HAD TO SEE! 


The list was originally printed in 1997 in Glamour magazine and was written by Pamela Redmond Satran. It was a pretty big deal when it came out. It literally became an "email phenomena"which in the late 90's was no mean feat! It resonated with so many women that Glamour magazine went about collecting the lists of many famous women and then collated them into a book. 


Glamour magazine has been around in the States since 1937, it has had ANYONE who is ANYONE on the cover from Michelle Obama to J-Lo. It's a stalwart amongst the miriad of glossies on offer in the U, S of A. 


I thought I'd go through the list one by one with you all. My answers will be underneath, I encourage you to do the same. It's quite a cathartic/depressing/empowering experience. 

By 30, you should have ...

1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.

I had an amazing boyfriend in grade 3 named Jay, he and I would talk about Punky Brewster and how much we loved NKOTB. He was the only one who could braid my hair so I had no stickyupy bits and he loved musicals all most as much as I did- how I loved Jay... (SHUT UP, HE WAS NOT GAY, NOT THEN.)


My first love. Broke my heart. Cheated on me with my friend. Still hurts to type. He still lives with his parents at 33 years of age and is single. Nuff said.

2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.

Define "decent" Glamour magazine?? Do you mean one that does't have weetbix welded to it or unidentifiable odours? I have 2 kids and a dog, I'm pretty sure no one at your office would deem any of it decent.. 

3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.

I'd have to dig it out of the "clean washing mountain" iron it and pop a broach on the stain but I think I have this one covered. Clothes I can do. 

4. A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.

I have a gold lamé coin purse that belonged to my Nanna a suitcase that my Dad emigrated with and an umbrella with a peacock head so I think we all agree, I ACED this item!

5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.

Nope. Still hanging on to that one. This item may have to go on the  "60 things every woman should have and should know by the time she's 60" list.

6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.

I work in the entertainment industry. This I have covered and then some.. (Insert Maniacal laugh) 

7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age -- and some money set aside to help fund it.

This one makes me feel anxious right across the board. They don't really know if I will grow old and I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT SUPERANNUATION NOW OK. I don't want to feel guilty about that until I am at least 40. 

8. An email address, a voice mailbox, and a bank account -- all of which nobody has access to but you.

CHECK! I also have 2 secret credit cards so I feel I've earned bonus points here.

9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.

The last time I needed a resume I was trying to get a job at La Porchetta, I may or may not have said I had waiting experience at my Parent's cafe when I didn't really.. My parents have never owned a cafe. Never. Not once. 

10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.

I have plenty of friends who make me laugh, truth be told I don't like to cry in front of anyone so not many of them can attest to having seen that.. Except of course for those times on reality tv when that's ALL I APPARENTLY DID. (When on Aus. Idol the producers chose to show my "softer side" - A LOT.)

11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.

KINKY! 

12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.

I have eleventy thousand of this one..

13. The belief that you deserve it.

Deserve what? WHAT?!

14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.

I have no plan. I have no regimen or routines. I am screwed here.

15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.

Shut up. If you say yes to this one I hate you. I don't, but you know... Sheesh.

By 30, you should know ...

1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.

I've been in the same relationship for 11 years. Do I need to go on here? 

2. How you feel about having kids.

Done and done. I pumped my 2 out in my early 20's- WINNER!

3. How to quit a job, break up with a man, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.

I have only quit one job and I told everyone to get f%cked when I left so I've got that one down! I don't even remember the last time I broke up with anyone, my Dad got rid of a few for me. I've had to confront a couple friends on their shit behaviour, 2 worked out well 1 still won't speak to me.. Half a point there?

4. When to try harder and when to walk away.

I always try hard. I am a try hard. I have not mastered the art of walking away, I one day hope to. I really do. 

5. How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.

Yep. Peck - Stop. Anything involving tongue - Go.

6. The names of the secretary of state, your great-grandmothers, and the best tailor in town.

FAIL. I am now on a mission to find out my Great Grandmothers' names.. I know one's name was Lillian Pearl and the other we called Mama Nelson but on my Italian side I've got no clue. If something needs tailoring I don't buy it and I'm substituting secretary of state with Governor general and I know that is the fabulous Quentin Bryce.

7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.

Oh how I dream of this one.. 

8. Where to go -- be it your best friend’s kitchen table or a yoga mat -- when your soul needs soothing.

Red wine. 

9. That you can’t change the length of your legs, the width of your hips, or the nature of your parents.

Heels, spanx and therapy says otherwise Glamour magazine. 

10. That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.

I've blocked a lot of it out so I get this one on default.

11. What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.

I often do things for free when I should charge for it and regularly get taken advantage of by those I love, FAIL. 

12. That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs, or not flossing for very long.

I don't floss. I know I should and I feel guilty about it every time I brush my teeth.. I know I should floss. I'm totally going to stat flossing. I am, I am! I won't..

13. Who you can trust, who you can’t, and why you shouldn’t take it personally.

This has been a recent epiphany for me. I now apply the "who would I call if my dog died" filter to my friends when it comes to the issue of trust and care.

14. Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.

Dude, I've known this one since I was 5.

15. Why they say life begins at 30

Mine began the day I discovered Game of Thrones but you know, a lid for every pot! 

So I got 16/30, how did you do?

I have barely passed my 30's it would seem.

Obviously I found this list superficial and not in a fun "Carrie Bradshaw is buying another pair of shoes even though she can't afford to eat" way. I appreciate the sentiment but found the execution patronising and archaic. It really has very little reflective value for it's readers which I think is the purpose of these types of exercises. Also, women should aspire to more than a cordless drill and a black lacy bra.

Ironically, they probably should aspire to more than confirmation they're doing ok from a list!

I am currently compiling my own list, I will have it to you by the end of the week.

Speak soon,

Em. x

So, you want to be a reality TV star huh?

We are once again in the midst of a Reality TV tsunami.

Networks love the gear, can't get enough.

FOXTEL aside, which seems to have more Reality TV than actual actors doing their thing. Free to air has once again become clogged with painters, decorators, singers, dancers, gumtree leaf players, saxophonists, celebrities trying to reclaim their former glory, brides, grooms and Kerrie-Anne all competing to get a slice of the public's affection and their sweet, sweet cash.

I feel as though I am a little bit smart on this topic as my name is Em Rusciano and I am the product of a Reality TV show.

When people find that out about me they are either impressed or disgusted.

I was on Australian Idol in 2004 and came 9th.

Reality TV was an excellent career choice for me. Straight after being rejected by the nation I got a job in commercial radio. I went onto host breakfast radio for the then Austereo network for nearly 5 years, from there I got a my current jobs on The Project and The Circle. I still sing, host corporate events and take part in comedy and cabaret festivals - reality TV changed my life.

It's been a bloody steep learning curve, before Idol I had ZERO experience performing. I also had next to zero self awareness. The last eight years have been a mixture of work, luck, tears, moving, counselling and reflection. I am still a nobody and have a long way to go before I can get a legitimate invite to the Logies, but I get paid to do what I love so I can't complain.

I am in the minority of former RTVCs (That's shop talk for Reality TV Contestant) who have gone on to semi-successful careers.

It's a waste land out there folks, you see once the public/judges decide they no longer want you, you're very quickly forgotten. The public are fickle and spoilt for choice, they will move onto the next thing if you're no longer on their TV every night.

One day you are being watched by millions of people, have your own security guard, live in a mansion, are being interviewed by magazines and radio stations and the next you are back in your regular life which for me involved hacking away at dried weetbix with a metal ruler on my child's highchair. Aforementioned child no longer recognised me, just to really sweeten the situation..

You are expected to pick up the pieces as though nothing has happened. It's a severe reality and not something the production companies prepare contestants for.

Some are crushed by this, some fight it for a while and some try to pretend like it never happened.

For the record, I did all three.

With Big Brother starting up again soon and The Voice receiving so much hype I worry again for the next crop of rejects. I know that sounds harsh but that's essentially what we are, I wear it as a badge of honour. I think the mistake a lot of people make going into these type of situations is that they think if they get chosen as a finalist that's their one way ticket to becoming a *gargantuan star. (*I thesaurused the shit out of "huge" there.)

Some contestants leave the competition feeling as though the world owes them something, when the offers don't roll in as expected it can be breathtakingly crushing.

My advice to those of you thinking about Reality TV as your next move is to see it as a platform not a magical career maker.

Go in expecting nothing.

Expect to give everything.

Don't attach your self worth to the outcome.

For the love of everything that is good and holy NEVER, EVER, EVER, NEVER, EVER go near the internet forums. My GAWD I cannot stress this enough. I made that mistake.. My left eye still twitches as a result.

The crap news is even if you do win or somehow manage to trick people into giving you a career in the industry (as I did) you are still judged and looked down upon by those who got there by legitimate means.. You know, WAAPA, NIDA, being extraordinarily pretty..

Have a crack anyway, what have you got to lose?! (Sanity, privacy, career, sense of self worth, reason for living, credibility..)

I kidd!

Good times!

E x

Who will save my girl's musical souls?

Growing up my top musical heroes were who you would expect.

Prince
Michael Jackson
Madonna


I pretty much decided that I would model my look on all 3 as a 10 year old and I haven't evolved since.

My daughters are music savvy. I mean it, they've truly got the rhythm in them. I know all parents say that but just trust me ok?!

Every Saturday morning I wake to the familiar sound of "Rage ra ra ra Rage ra ra ra Rage Raaaaaaaaage". The two of them sit there watching film clips, singing along hoping that their favourite song is next - as I did when I was their age.

I worry for them, who will be their musical icons? Who will adorn their walls, who will they rush out to buy smash hits for? ( Does smash hits still exist?)

They have no interest in One direction, Justin Bieber or Taylor Swift (I'm a tiny bit proud of that) They form attachments to songs not artists.

Having only ever listened to my music, as I decided very early on The Wiggles and High 5 were messengers of Satan, my kids expect much from their pop music. They can sing along to most of Stevie Wonder's back catalogue, know The Gossip's "Music for men" top to toe and it meant something to them when Whitney Huston died. What I'm getting at is they want more than what Bieber and One Direction have to offer. However the artists I mentioned above the boys bands are all my taste inflicted on them. Sure I'm helping to shape their musicality but until they discover someone for themselves they won't get that truly authentic "losing my shit over ________'s new album" experience.

The current day pop landscape is full of technologically suped up wannabes who are out before they're truly in. Songs have had the soul auto-tuned out and there is so much choice and product flooding the market place it's hard to know where to start.

What I want more than anything is for my kids to have someone to hook into, really love and obsess over.

I thought GaGa was a serious contender but it all got a bit much for my 5 year old when I had to explain the concept of the alien re-birthing and thirteen minute film clips involving bathtubs and leather.

Chris Brown might have been in with a chance had he not PUNCHED A WOMAN in the face.

Britney Spears. No. Just, no.

Beyonce is talented and probably as close as my girls have got to having someone they admire but she still leaves me a tad cold. I don't think Beyonce has a real identity, you would't look at an outfit or hear a song and say "that is so Beyonce" as you would with Prince, Michael or Madonna.

Robyn is front runner at the moment, again a favourite of mine but the girls play her independently of me so that counts for something. Sia has come up the ranks also particularly for my eldest.

Calling all icons, we need you. Us Mothers who are bringing up the next generation of music enthusiasts desperately need someone to believe in. Someone to teach our daughters and sons about the importance of independent thinking, musicianship, killer shoulder pads and shit hot dance moves.

WHERE ARE YOU?

 Do any of you have suggestion? Am I missing someone? Who will my kids be playing to their kids?

Em. x

 P.S. For those of you wondering about who Robyn is, watch below. She is RAD.

How to do the relationship exit interview.

My best friend Lauren makes terrible man choices. I am convinced her radar is permanently set to "arse clown".

Lolly is a good egg. She's in her late 20's, has a job and is kind to children. To my knowledge she has no serial killer tendencies and doesn't steal from any charities, yet her "man karma" is the equivalent of someone who may have run over a truck full of monks on their way to an impoverished village to aid sick children.

Upon hearing about another failed relationship due to douche bag behaviour from the bloke she'd been seeing, I gave her some advice. Well, I yelled it at her actually.

"Give the dick head an exit interview!".

How's that for a concept ladies and gents? An unsolicited relationship exit interview.

Letting the other party know where they fell down and how they could perhaps improve themselves for future love happiness. Obviously you must also acknowledge where you may have slipped up to make it a more palatable conversation, but giving some constructive feedback may just save the next woman/man from suffering as you did.

I think this strategy may only work for those relationships that didn't get very far down the track. I have been with my husband for 11 years and feel as though I give him an exit interview every few days.

They have little to no impact, as he has heard my grievances with him many, many, many times before.

No, this kind of thing will only work if the relationship didn't progress past the infancy stages. Before anyone had the balls to mention the things that were pissing them off. You must still be shaving all your bits and wearing matching underwear, still secretly sneaking off to brush your teeth before they wake up and exiting the room for flatulence issues for the relationship exit interview to have the desired effect.

It would be a complete and utter lie to say ALL of the intent behind the relationship exit interview it to help improve the recipients chances of happiness down the track. 


No, some of it is to get the crap off your chest that has been sitting there too afraid to show itself. We all know nagging or critiquing someone in the early stages of love is a big no no so those things gets stored away to slowly to build into an inferno of resentment. 


Go to this place my friends to put together your notes, sort through the ashes of resentment and order them neatly and coherently so that they may be called upon during the relationship exit interview.

Back to my friend Lauren.

Let us briefly visit the behaviour of the latest man to disappoint her.

They met 4 weeks ago and hit it off straight away. The witty banter was mind blowing, the eye contact lingering and the physical attraction stomach churning. 


He called her the next day which was a good sign, perhaps this was a man not afraid to take what he wants! Not interested in paying the usual games, he liked Lauren and wasn't afraid to show it.

He invited her to come to his mates wedding! Lauren called me and questioned weather that was something to be concerned about.

"NO! How very refreshing" I exclaimed.

A man who has acted on his feelings and not hidden them away to appear cool. "Go forth, say yes, purchase a suitable cocktail frock... Nothing too slutty but still hot enough to impress his friends." I advised.

Lets us stop right here for step one in the relationship exit interview. You must always start with a positive, this would be it. He came out of the blocks well, fantastic start. This feedback is important as you want to encourage this type of honest behaviour. Well done on the opening stage conduct, arse clown, well done.

This was his high point though. Their encounters after that took an overall tone of: "You are something to occupy my time with when the boys are busy and I'm not working." If this is happening a month in it's time to cut and run baby.

Step 2 of the relationship exit interview involves giving them examples of where they let themselves and you down.

In Lauren's case I would chose the following incidents.

1. Not turning up to her birthday party until 3am.
2. Ringing and abusing her at 3am for having left said party. Continuing until 4am to ring and abuse her for the lack of taxis available in Melbourne.
3. Not calling her on her actual birthday or bothering with a gift.

Usually this type of behaviour only a month in would just result in her benching him forever. Ignoring text messages and phone calls until he got the message. Not this time kids, this time feedback will be given.
The above behaviour just needs to be addressed as following.

"Your lack of self awareness is pretty profound. Showing up anywhere at 3am is usually not going to end well and traditionally, birthday's of the person you are seeing take precedence over drinking with the boys. You are 32 years old not 18, that shit doesn't wash now. Not bothering to call me on my birthday and blaming me for a taxi shortage also illustrates a lack of reasoning and manners".

After the negative feedback is given you must then move to step 3: Acknowledging how you could have improved the situation. In Lauren's case:

"I acknowledge that I should have told you I was leaving my party at 1am however I had given up on you attending as you were FIVE HOURS LATE!".

Lauren must accept she showed poor communication skills that evening.

So there you have it, the relationship exit interview done in 3 simple steps.

Let us review them once more.

Step One: Where they went right.

Step Two: Where they went wrong.

Step Three: Where you went wrong.

Think of it as a positive reinforcement sandwich. The meat in the middle is their stuff-ups the bread their triumphs and your missteps.

All too often people walk away from what they felt was a promising union confused as to where it went wrong. Let us remove this confusion, especially if it was ended by the poorly behaved party. You have nothing to lose do you? Go forth and confront, you have my blessing.

You're welcome!

Em xx

Funeral hilarity- When sad times go bad.

I have to go to a funeral tomorrow.

The last one I went to was my Grandfather's. I don't remember much of it as I've done the healthy thing of totally blocking it out emotionally.

Funerals are like stepping into a grief matrix, an emotional vortex that swings from the tragic to the hilarious, hanging on the edge of a cliff with nothing but fairy floss to hold on to.

What I mean by that is everything and everyone is bloody fragile. You don't want things fucking up at a funeral and by rights they should. Usually they don't. But, they should. Think about it: very sad people planning things while probably numbing the pain with medication and or alcohol handing over large sums of money just wanting it to be over and classy at the same time. RECIPE. FOR. DISASTER.

On the odd occasion that I hear about "funeral mishaps - when sad times go bad", I laugh. Hard.

It's probably the wrong response but sometimes, when I have the choice of laughing or crying I go down the laughing route to survive the situation.

Bodies falling out of coffins, people sitting through the wrong service and only realising half way through, hungover grandchildren spewing during the service, wife throwing herself in the grave after her husband was lowered into the ground (I witnessed this, at the time it was atrociously sad. Now-HILARIOUS.)

Because funerals are such sombre occasions and everyone wants to do the right things by the dead guy/girl's family a collective breathe holding takes place. Everyone just prays that it all goes off without anymore pain coming to those suffering.

Well, my husband and I had our own little funeral mistep that I thought I would share with you all.

It's a quick one.

A week ago, I got myself up, found my designated "funeral dress" and ironed my husband's shirt like the good and dutiful wife I am. We got the children off to school and drove down to Sandrigham for we were to say goodbye to Scott's baseball mentor Jack. Jack had inspired and supported my husband through out his entire baseball career and Scott was very sad at his passing. The funeral was going to be huge as he helped out many athletes and families in Victorian baseball.

We steeled ourselves emotionally for what was to come, we both knew it would be sad and so we sat in silence on the ride down preparing for the mood that the funeral would bring with it.

As we arrived at the Church I noticed there were only a few cars there. "Strange" I remarked.. Jack had many friends and had touched the lives of countless people so I had been expecting a bigger turn out.
Instantly and pointlessly I felt bad for Jack (shut up I know he is dead and his feelings aren't there to be hurt by the small amount of people at his funeral- but I still felt bad.)

Scott and I got out of the car, I helped him put on his suit jacket and picked some lint off his shoulder. We looked into each others eyes, I gave him my best supportive wife smile.. Just a hint of warmth, loads of sincerity and a smattering of "here if you need mate."

We held hands as we walked towards the church..

Scott opened the door for me and as I turned around and took in the scene before me I noticed something rather odd about Jack's funeral.

It wasn't there.

A confused looking priest approach us and asked is he could help.

I said: "We are here for Jack's funeral."

To which he replied: "You're early, a week early. Jack's funeral is next Friday."

YES. YEP. YES. EVERYTHING YOU ARE THINKING NOW, JUST YES.

Scott had got the dates wrong.

I thanked the priest, took my exhausted, embarrassed, confused husband's hand said "not to worry we'll just do it all again next week" and headed back to the car.

So, tomorrow we do it all again.

I know, hilarious.

Go ahead.

You can laugh now.

Hard.

The kindness of humans.. In particular Tim Minchin.

 It's no secret that I am often bitterly disappointed by the way humans behave, not today my friends.

 Not. Today.

I am an ambassador for a magnificent charity called Strike a Chord For Children. Basically they provide musical instruments, lessons and experiences for children who are disadvantaged, seriously ill or recovering from serious illness. Often times music is the only thing these small humans can manage as it gives so much back to them and expects nothing in return.

If you'd like more info please visit the website here: Strike a chord for children.

Today I had the absolute privilege of escorting a little friend of mine Hamish, to meet his musical idol: Tim Minchin.

Hamish has had a particularly tough year fighting cancer and at the age of 5 has been through more pain and distress than most of us will see in a life time but my GOD this kid had spunk. He is also loving, giving, trusting, smart and generous with his sprit. Five minutes after meeting him I was in love.

While Hamish was receiving treatment at The Royal Children's he discovered the musical genius that is Mr Tim Minchin.

Everyday on his iPad he would play Tim's concerts over and over again singing loudly and laughing at Tim's unusual and hilarious lyrics. Tim has a song called "Dark Side" which particularly resonated with 5 year old Hamish! He explained he too has a dark side sometimes.. ( I think it's safe to say he broke cute with that statement.)  Here it is if you aren't familiar with it: Dark Side by Tim Minchin

I met Hamish out the front of the Palace theatre in St Kilda where Tim is playing his sold out shows tonight and tomorrow night. Hamish had on his best white dress shirt, snappy jeans and rad white Nike kicks.. I was in the process of being hugged and high fived when up behind Hamish appeared the strapping red head himself ; Tim Minchin.

Hamish was beside himself, Tim lifted him in the air and embraced him in a good 3 minute hug (cue Em and Hamish's Mother crying.)

Tim took Hamish inside the theatre where the Melbourne Symphony orchestra where setting up for his sound check. He carried Hamish around the entire venue introducing him to the crew and other musicians. I felt so much gratitude and admiration for Minchin I thought my heart may burst. He was so wonderful and generous with Hamish we were all moved to tears.

The thing is, today I was reminded how people can be good and kind. I forget that sometimes when I'm wrapped up in the negative vortex that is my brain.

Tim Minchin you're a bloody good egg.

To the people at Strike a Chord for Children, what you provide these kids is such a magical gift, bless all of your cotton socks for making it happen. I feel so lucky to be allowed to play a small part in it.

I didn't write this piece to promote the work I do, I'm not a particularly good and charitable person! I freely admit I am an ambassador for pretty selfish reasons.

I feel good seeing the happiness on the kids faces, I am reminded to get out of my own head and small problems and focus on someone else who is doing far tougher than I.

Helping them helps me.

Here is Hamish and Tim.. I know right, BEST EVER..

Here is Hamish, Tim and I.

That's all I really wanted to say today, I hope you're all well.

Speak soon,

Em x

Calling all urban, sexy, mysterious soldiers. I need you, my kid is starting school.

I'm already crying writing this post and we are only one sentence in.

Not a good sign but we'll press on like the urban, sexy, mysterious soldiers we are. (Look, I'm trying to be brave so I thought the image of me being an urban, sexy, mysterious solider might do the trick.)

We're deep in the bowels of school holidays at the moment. Normally I pray for the end of school holidays as a sugar dependant child may pray for cake, but not these ones folks.

I never want them to end.

I want them to stretch out in front of me for months if not years! These school holidays are very special as they are my last with my wonderful daughter Odette.

You see Odette is leaving me.

Nay, abandoning me to selfishly start primary school AND MUMMY ISN'T COPING WELL AT ALL.

(God the tears are overwhelming me now, mascara has just gone up my nostrils - it's getting dramatic up in here.)

I've already been through this once with my eldest daughter Marchella who is heading into grade 5 this year. When Chella started school I was hosting Breakfast radio in Perth so I was just glad she had somewhere to go while I was a work thus alleviating some of the crushing guilt I had being a working Mother. Her first day at School was a happy one for me, this is not the case with Odie's first day.

I have been at home with Odie full time since she was 2 - I decided I wanted to do that as I missed so much of Chella's early childhood working. So after I quit the radio Odie and I became each others' side-kicks. I think this is why I'm not coping well with the prospect of her heading to school; I just can't imagine my days without her.

The highlight of my day is seeing what Odette will dress herself in, she has developed quite a unique style     and is fearless when it comes to fashion.

Everyday at about 8am Odette will announce to the house:

"I'm getting dressed, NO-ONE can come in until I say."

This morning we were treated to pink, wet-look Lycra leggins, a tule leopard print skirt, sequinned cardigan, pink vans and a blue t-shirt with ruffles around the neck. There will always be several necklaces  and COPIOUS amounts of perfume she has stolen from me and hid in a secret location in her room. Her eye shadow is sometimes on her eyes and her lipstick is usually in the vicinity of her lips. She is nothing short of SPECTACULAR.

Now all I'll see each day is a checked school dress and sensible shoes. Humph.

I am worried sick. I am worried they won't get her. I am worried her lovely, creative, loopy spirit will be crushed. I'm just worried about EVERYTHING now that I won't be there to protect her ALL THE TIME and indulge her unique view of the world.

My eldest is savvy, smart, independent and sensible. I could send her out to live on her own now if need be. Odette is, well she's a little too much like me I guess and that is a HUGE concern.

Don't worry I know I am being irrational and dramatic. I know it's all probably going to be fine. I know this will upset me more than it will her. I DON'T CARE! It gives me a stomach ache every time I think about it.

There is a poem by Victor Buno called "I trust you treat her well."  I remember vividly hearing Tracy Bartram do her own version for when her son started school and so I thought I'd do my own as well.

Dear World,

Today I bequeath to you a little girl with green eyes in a checkered school dress she'll have altered to make it more "Barbie."

I can also guarantee she's done something fabulous with the standard issue school cardie.

Her laughter is loud and a little maniacal she will ONLY ride HER glittery bicycle.

I hope you treat her well.

I'm afraid someone will tell her it's "Frog" not "Froggett" and correct "Huggle" to "cuddle" can you stop that from happening?

Her Mother is mental and a little bit musical so she when she sings her answers make can you make sure there's clapping?

She likes raw pasta and will only drink water from this one manky plastic purple cup.

I'll level with you now.

Alls I'm saying is,

World, don't f$*k it up!

I hope you treat her well....

Your friend Em.

Yes I know, I've already called Leonard Cohen to suggest a collaboration on his next book of poems...

Badly written poems aside I decided to do a little research on how to prepare myself for Odette's first day of School... I looked and I looked.. There was plenty of "how to prepare the child" crap but nothing on how I CAN COPE WITH THIS IMPENDING SEPARATION. Can someone alert Kaz Cooke to this?! I need her to write a book in 2 weeks as there is jack shit all out there for the "anxious, hysterical Mother."

I thought maybe I could have a crack at writing a guide to the first day of school for Mums.

Em's guide to your child's first day at school.


1. Get up early, find a nice private place and have your first cry before everyone else is up. This is the big one. You can snot it up, heave and lay in the foetal position without anyone knowing.


2. Make sure you look amazing. Pick a fabulous outfit, do your make-up and ensure everything is WATERPROOF. I mean get that synchronised swimmer shit, the stuff that wouldn't move during a hurricane.


3. Once at School immediately try to win over the teacher. If he/she likes you best then he/she may play favourites with your child.


4. Don't get caught with the hip flask in your bag.


5. Find a nice bush where you can spend the day watching if need be.


6. After the school have you removed, hide around the corner crying some more. Don't worry your face has the synchronised simmer war paint on no one will know.


7. Home time! Rush over to your child, hold on for dear life and break it to them you are considering home schooling.


8. You're welcome.


I know you know that is EXACTLY how my first day is going to play out, I'm just trying to get some of you to behave as badly as I am going to so I'm not the only one..

I still have two weeks left so hopefully by then I will have gained some perspective....

If your baby is starting school this year, I'm with you sisters and brothers - let's do this thing together.

Em x

Women aren't funny?

I feel extremely overwhelmed starting this piece of writing. I fear red hot lasers may shoot from my fingertips and melt my precious Macbook. I fear I may not cover all points intelligently and succinctly enough. I want to write it so well, I want you to all read this and have it ignite a fire within and perhaps change a few minds but I fear it may all turn into a steaming pile of ranty poo.

I will open proceedings with the following statement: I love comedy. I am a comedy nerd. I hang out with comedians. I work with comedians Im a "gag hag" if you will. 

I especially love female comedians. 

Let me reel off some of my favourite gals:

Sarah Silverman

Tina Fey

Dawn French

Jennifer Saunders

Amy Poehler

Joan Rivers

Kathy Griffin

Kristen Wiig

Margaret Cho

Ellen Degeneres

Rosanne Barr 

Amy Sedaris

Judith Lucy

Kitty Flannigan

Felicity Ward

Cal Wilson

Fiona O'Loughlin

Denise Scott

I know I will have missed some brilliant ladies, there are so many. These were just the ones off the top of my school holiday addled head. 

So we've established I feel overwhelmed at what I am about to tackle and that I love comedians of the female persuasion.

Deep breath Em.. 

When I hear a man say "I don't find women funny" or "Women can't be funny"  I am filled a red hot rage that burns like the heat of 1000 suns in the depths of hell. Shamefully enough, on the odd occasion, I have also heard a woman say "I just don't think women can be funny."

Last night on twitter I found myself ranting Kanye style after a male colleague stated there were no funny females IN THE WORLD. Big call. Some might say the call of a man who has deep seeded psychological issues related to a mummy complex he developed as a child - but I digress.

What followed were mostly tweets of disgust from my followers at his statement but what also cropped up was some of my male followers saying that all female comics talk about is menstruation, men and mothering. 

I'm not kidding.

@radioinnovation

Ben Henry

@EmRusciano there is more to comedy than periods, children and issues with men.

When I read things like this I wonder how Ben and others like him manage to put their pants on in the morning. Is this a common held belief? If you are a man reading this, look deep into your heart. Do you think women can be funny? DO YOU?! 

I wonder how extensive Ben's research is on the topic of female stand-ups? I wonder how many he has seen live? I also wonder when Ben was ordained King of Comedy. Because surely only the preordained king comedy could be allowed to write off AN ENTIRE GENDER and their comedic ability. It must be something about vaginas huh? Perhaps all the funny just fell out of us? I'm getting ranty now, let us get back on track.. 

In 2007 Christopher Hitchens wrote an article for Vanity Fare with the delightful title:

"Why women aren't funny."

I have reason to believe this article may have been a piss-take, however for the purposes of attacking someone to prove my point... Let us press on!

I think my favourite part was when Chris said that ladies don't need to bother being funny as they have boobs and stuff to attract men so why bother with words.. Ok, so he didn't EXACTLY say that he said:

"Women have no need to appeal to men in this way-if you catch my drift."

Oh yes Chris, we caught your drift. I'd like to see your drift inserted in a place no drift should be inserted. Sadly Christopher passed away last year but I stand by my drift insertion request.

Among other things Christopher insinuated that women only use comedy to attract men. Of course! It all makes perfect sense. I know I only perform in the hope of impressing and trapping a man, that's definitely why Ellen Degeneres does it right? 

Just when you think he can't get any better, Christopher rips out this gem:

"MOST female comedians are hefty, dykey or Jewish." 

I know, what an enlightened man he was.

I'm not even going to bother with that one. 

Surely I don't need to. 

It's no secret that comedy is a male dominated scene. It's a burley, scary, tough world and in my experience you have to play by the boys rules because there are just so many of them. Men outnumber women on the comedy circuit a bazillion to 5 or something like that. 

Comedy is for the brave which is ironic as a lot of comedians are a tower of insecurity needing laughter to bolster their fragile egos. (Same applies to performers, I include myself here.)

I think a lot of women are capable of delivering excellent stand-up but they lack the encouragement and confidence to actually do so. I have also observed that audiences are more tolerant of a man bombing on stage than a woman. I think women are expected to kill it and deliver every time otherwise they are deemed "un-funny" forever.

Last year comedian/writer/actor/producer/queen of awesomeness Tina Fey penned an excellent memoir called "Bossypants." 

Of working with the Saturday night live writers she wrote:

"Only in comedy does an obedient white girl from the suburbs count as diversity."  

Interestingly enough Tina has a much more zen approach than I do to people who say women aren't funny:

“When faced with sexism or ageism or lookism … ask yourself the following question: ‘Is this person in between me and what I want to do?’ If the answer is no, ignore it and move on. Your energy is better used doing your work and outpacing people that way. Then, when you’re in charge, don’t hire the people who were jerky to you.”

Good advice T (I like to pretend we are friends and that I call her T.)

Are women funny? Some are, not all.

Are men funny? Some are, not all.

I guess what I am ultimately trying to say is: let us judge what is and isn't funny by what happens on stage not by what happens in our pants.. 

Wait. I can do better.

Let us not get hung up on the gender of a comedian. Funny is funny whether it has a bulge in it's pants or in it's top.

Just don't say anything wanky like: "women can't be funny" It's beneath you. It's not true and you should probably get something done about your small penis. 

BOOM!