A letter to you all...

Dear Friends,

It Tuesday afternoon, it's 3 minutes into the hateful "witching hour" and I really should be bathing and feeding the children however I simply must type a bit before my head explodes.

For those of you without children the "witching hour" starts around 5/5:30pm each night and involves your children changing from well behaved small people into the spawn of the dark lord. Everyone is tired from the days activities yet we must all push on to ensure the children are fed, brush their teeth, read a story and put to bed. It is WORST EVER. What I really want to do at this time is open a bottle of red and lay on the couch.

I don't care how perfect you claim your child to be: ALL KIDS TURN. 

I swear if they were really serious about cutting teenage pregnancy rates they would send them to any household with more than one kid at 5pm. That will extinguish the fires in their lusty teenage loins toot sweet. 

Why am I borderline manic right now? Well, if you've been playing along at home you may know my one woman show is starting this Thursday night at the Butterfly club. If you're new; well done, you've missed most of the anxiety!

This show has been all consuming. I feel ridiculous writing that as it's only a tiny production, an hour long and my "special effect"involves fake candles and a self operated fog machine. Still, it's something I've come up with and written so if it's God awful I have no one to throw cake at at the end and call a wanker.. 

The stage is only as big as the front of a small car and I am filling it with my guitarist and a home made change screen. Yes, I purchased a "frame wall" from the reject shop, punched out the pictures and replaced them with sparkly material. Boom, somewhere to complete my costume changes.. Tonia Todman 'aint got nothin' on me friends. The screens lack of structural integrity is a little concerning.

I just hope a stiff wind doesn't blow through the Butterfly club the moment I strip.

I have also made an actual "power point presentation" this whole production plays like a Yr 12 theater studies project. Which, I'm ok with. 

This is one of the scariest things I have ever done. 

I am packing shit. (I love this phrase, it's not used enough in my opinion)

Seriously.

Why did I think I could do this?

No. I can do this.

If Britney could get back on the stage as medicated as she was; and not pass out, I can get through an hour of talking about myself!

As my annoyingly calm husband said to me at 3am last night when he found me running lines in front of the bathroom mirror: "If you feel anxiety you are living in the future."

At the time, I wanted to spit listerine in his eyes. Not so much now; it's become my mantra, just don't tell him that.

If you live in Melbourne and you're free Thursday/Friday/Saturday or Sunday night around 7pm it would be nice to see you. If you're got this far down and haven't given up then we are kindred spirits (copy write Anne of Green Gables) and your presence would provide moral support.

Book Tickets to Em's Show Here!

Earlier in the week I did an interview on JOY FM, it previews the songs in a ridiculous way.

This is the last time we will speak before I embark on this tour of self doubt and sweat. 

See you on the other side..

E x

Selling my Soul, Singing and Story telling..

Well, I am two weeks out from the opening night of my little show and I've ceased "the sleeping" all together. Anxiety pretty much consumes me and I am convinced I have taken on far too much. So, all is pretty normal!

That all being said, I am really looking forward to performing as well. The experience of doing something that scares the shit out of me and also allowing me to combine my love of telling stories and music has been a fantastic one.

Here is the show poster:

If you think you can spare the time to come one of the shows I'd really love to see you there. All my friends and family are coming (out of obligation) however it would be great to see some new faces as well. 

A lot of you would only have ever seen me in 30 second bursts on the 7pm project or perhaps remember me from Idol when, well, I wasn't really sure what the hell I was doing. (I am marginally better now!)

If you're curious please come along.

Tckets to Em's show here!

Selling my Soul!

Recently I filmed 5 "mini whips" for a Kan Tong promotion with the 7pm project.

Yes, as in: "Mammas making Kan Tong, doesn't take long for the word to spread around" - That's now going to be stuck in your head all night my friend.

Here they are!

I've also been writing for the amazing Mia Freedman at her website: www.mamamia.com.au

That's all for now kids.

Speak soon.

Em x

A little something I wrote for Mammamia.com.au: Why Chubby Models are bad for your health.

So here it is ladies and gentleman. 

The reason why so many of us struggle with our weight.

The reason behind the obesity epidemic facing Western society.

Are you ready for this jelly? 

The blame can be squarely laid upon the fleshy shoulders of FAT MODELS.

Italian researchers Dr Luca Savorelli and Dr David Dragone from the University of Bologna have concluded, that putting larger women on the catwalk (i.e. bigger than a size 8) sends a message to the obese people of the world that it's ok to be fat.  

“To promote chubby fashion models when obesity is one of the major problems of industrialised countries seems to be a paradox...Given that in the US and in Europe people are on average overweight, we conclude that these policies, even when they are welfare improving, may foster the obesity epidemic.”

Of Course! I bet, this very minute ,thousands of overweight people are stalking the catwalks of the world. If just ONE model dare hit the runway weighing in at more than 50kg they'll all rejoice. I can see them now, pumping their chubby fists in the air screaming: “SEE! She's a model, she's not thin, therefor I can stay fat!”

The good “Doctors” had more truth bombs to share at the Economic Society's annual conference in London this week.

“If being overweight is the average condition and the ideal body weight is thin, increasing the ideal body weight may increase welfare by reducing social pressure.”

Just so we're all clear. The “Doctors” feel we should keep our models nice and skinny so we all still aspire to be like them thus ensuring we feel insecure about our imperfect bodies. Who needs the boring excuse of “a better quality of life” to lose weight. We need to feel BAD about ourselves to get on the path to a healthier life. 

Shame = Killer abs.

For the love of all that is good and right in the world! Seriously. These men were given actual money to come up with this crap?! Was this “state sponsored” research? Silvio Burlusconi protecting his orgiastic aspirations? We CANNOT have fat models turning up to sex parties can we Silvio? Even a mask won't cover that.

Obviously, putting more realistic women on the catwalk WILL NOT make overweight people feel good about being overweight. What a breath takingly ridiculous statement. 

Putting “larger” models on the catwalk would be a HUGE step in the right direction.

I could bleat on about “realistic role models” and “positive body image” but anyone with half a brain knows why “real women” on a runway would be a better situation for everyone.

Back to our friends from Italy. I am confused as to why they were concerned about this issue to begin with? Has there been a dramatic increase in overweight models that I am unaware of and did this increase coincide with a spike in the world's obesity rates?

No, no there hasn't been. In fact, models are thinner than ever and obesity rates are the highest they've ever been. I didn't need a degree from the University of Bologna to figure out that either.

Back to the drawing board Dottores.

7 Reasons to get excited about the Royal Wedding!!!!!!!!

The Royal Wedding is upon us (it deserves incorrect capitol letter usage) and I AM EXCITED!

I know a lot of you think it's cool to PRETEND that you don't care. You must be pretending because I don't understand anyone with a pulse not being moved by the up coming nuptials.

The available commemorative merchandise alone is enough to get me going. Here are some of my personal faves:

I just LOVE the "Bobby's hat" for extra Britishness.

I may be needing one of these as excitement reaches FEVER PITCH!

Commemorative Gnomes! Nuff said. 

They've been VERY generous with Will's hair here..

I love that only Kate is wearing the wedding ring..

They look happy and relaxed in my SCOLDING HOT tea.

I just want to be as happy as this guy. SOLD!

How wonderful that this wedding has inspired so many entrepreneurs to get out there and have a crack.
Commemorative memorabilia aside (try saying that fast 3 times) I have other reasons for being excited about the Royal Wedding.

1. It's been a miserable start to the year. There has been floods, cyclones, earthquakes, tsunamis and fires. Obviously this wedding isn't going to make any of that better or easier but it does allow for some good news to float through the media and perhaps, for a short time, allow a few people to escape their reality and bring a feeling of optimism to what has been a tough time for many.

2. The CRAPTASTIC made for TV "William and Kate" movie that is coming out. Here's a preview:

3. Prince Harry. More of Prince hot ginger pants. Yes, I just wrote that.

4. It will give everyone the chance to remember Princess Di in a happier light. Obviously the last wedding of this magnitude was hers and Charles so the comparisons are inevitable. Sure, it didn't end well. On MANY fronts, but at the time it was a wondrous occasion watched by a huge television audience and is still looked back upon with fondness.

5. The celebrity invitees.. This is THE ULTIMATE red carpet event people make no mistake about it. Every man and his dog is trying to score an invite. From Elton to GaGa, Sting to Lloyd Webber this list is A+++++.

6. THE WEDDING DRESS. Lets face it, we know Will will be wearing a well cut suit with a shit load of medals, perhaps a sword and some fancy shoulder detailing but this party is all about what Kate fronts up in and you know it.

7. Good for Britain's economy. Boring but true. Travel and tourism will get a boost, local buying will increase and it will generate jobs.

So there you have it nay sayers. Seven perfectly legitimate reasons to stop poo pooing the wedding and to get your limited edition commemorative plate and get on board.

April 29th, I 'll see you there.

E x

Dear God what have I done..

Who the hell do I think I am? I mean really. It all seemed like such a good idea at the time, something I could totally pull off. Now, I'm having anxiety and regret of such epic proportions I'm finding it hard to breath/sleep/function..

What have I done, oh I'll tell you what I've done... No, I don't think I can bring myself to type the words for fear of asphyxiating on the fumes of impending failure (dramatic enough for you?)

Oh all right.

You'll need to read this next paragraph in a fast high pitched slightly manic voice and try not to breath. (This is how it loops in my head)

I've booked in a venue for my one woman show and now I have to sell tickets and I'm afraid no one will turn up except Mum and Dad who will be there out of obligation. I'm also concerned that I will sell tickets therefore people will be expecting to be entertained only what if I can't be entertaining? What if my voice can't hack the grueling 8 pop songs a night? What if people find my stories self indulgent and boring? Oh God, what have I done.


Yes I'm aware this entire line of thought is self indugent. Yes I'm aware doing a "one woman show" telling stories about my life is pretty self indugent also but bare with me folks, I'm a woman ON THE EDGE.

I hosted breakfast radio for 4 years, I have interviewed Prime Ministers and Pussy Cat dolls. I am on live national television every week, I was a finalist on the most successful season of Australia Idol but I have never had to drive and be responsible for my own show. Now, after years of bitching about how everyone else gets it wrong I have put myself up for ridicule and judgement.

At the start of the year I made a few resolutions, if you feel so inclined you can read them here:

Orah, Eurovision and world domination - Em 2011

I am trying to stay true to these promises I made myself so I decided to take myself way out of my comfort zone and do this show.

Let me tell you all a bit about: "Em Rusciano - The Saintly Bitch Sings."

The show is my big haired guitarist Ryan (who gives me instant music cred due to the afro) and I on a small stage in a very cool performance club. I have 8 stories to tell and with these stories comes the pop song that helped define the moment for me. For instance, my very first dancing concert...

(Imagine me on the small stage, I will have my own smoke machine and Ryan sitting casually looking cool... Cue spot light)

"If Hitler had a female counterpart her name was Glenda Jean and she resided in the outer eastern suburbs of Melbourne and ran an operation called “The Glenda Jean Dance Academy”. Every Thursday and Saturday I would turn up with 30 other girls my age to be barked at by our all mighty leader. Why she went into working with children I will never know, I think she may have been more suited to a career in a Maximum security prison or slaughter house..

Glenda Jean's Mother Jean (how very Spears of them) played all the accompaniment for us on an old, decrepit black piano. It had seen better days and sadly.. So had Jean. 

Jean was a lovely lady, however she was the wrong side of 70 and sometimes wouldn't hear Glenda's cues. By sometimes I mean never.. Glenda took to violently whacking a large stick on the top of the piano to let her Mother know when to stop playing, this scared the living shit out of Jean EVERY TIME. This scene would play out at least 50 times a lesson:

“Mum, stop. STOP!” - WHACK

“Oh, heavens, Glenda you scared me”

EVERY TIME.

Our annual concert was of course a highlight.. I religiously watched Young Talent time every week just dying to be like Dannii Minogue (Spelled with 2 n's and 2 i's- Hasn't she come up trumps in the end..Poor Kylie) so our yearly concert was a close as I got.

 It was also my first taste of drag queen like make-up. So much hairspray, so much lycra and sequins and the tantrums oh the tantrums.. My Mother still speaks in emotional tones of having to front up to “Costume Inspection” where you not dare make eye contact with Glenda Jean as she went over your offering with a fine tooth comb. If one seam, one rosette was out of place she would simply yell “not good enough” and the poor Mother would scurry off to try and fix the offending costume.

One year we did a saucy little jazz number to a song called “Black Velvet” 

The costume was a one shouldered leotard made of...Oh Yes.. BLACK VELVET.. Looking back it probably wasn't all that age appropriate to have thirty 9 year olds gyrating to this song on stage but at the time I remember feeling amazing."

End Scene... The music will start and I will give you all an acoustic rendition of "Black Velvet" complete with an exact replica of the costume I wore when I was 9. Don't think I didn't attempt to make that one fit me... Oh I did. It really didn't..

My husband is going to have me on a plate for admitting to everyone I am feeling less than confident in people showing up or even caring. He is all for the positive thinking and living in the now.

He tells me to only worry about the things I can control.. Saying that kind of thing to a control freak like me is pointless.

I am going to post a link to the tickets here:

Tickets to Em's show can be found here.

I am not going to beg.. I mean I can but I won't... I can though.

Thanks for sitting with me in my hour of need.

I feel much better now, I can focuses on delivering a fabulous show and my 7 costume changes in an hour.

I cannot control who turns up or how they feel about it..

(I wrote all of that for the benefit of my husband who vets this blog however he won't read this bit as I have added it post vet)

E x

Broken Vibes.

I always thought I had pretty good vibes.. You know, a tad crazy but earthy and authentic at the same time. Well meaning if not a little un predictable but all in all solid, dependable, fabulous vibes...

Up until a short time ago I thought if my vibes were a person they'd look like this:

It would appear I had my vibes all wrong.. It would appear my vibes actually look like this:

Yes friends. I have rancid vibes. How do I know this? I know this because someone I have known for 12 years and held very dear to my heart recently ended our friendship due to my aberrant vibes.

Recently I was sent the following text message:

"Your vibrations are no longer welcome in my life. I'm sorry if that sounds hurtful, but it's my absolute truth."

What? Hurtful! No of course not... That's a perfectly reasonable text message to send to someone you've been quite close with for over a decade, fine. I'll just be taking my unwanted, toxic vibrations elsewhere then will I? Is there somewhere I can go to have them counseled? Can I take some sort of a tablet to fix them? Can I get new ones?

Obviously there was some sort of catalyst that lead to the SMS being sent. I will have to simplify the situation that resulted in this text message for NUMEROUS reasons. Mainly because it's a very long, boring and juvenile tale. Here's the break down:

This person's sister started seeing a friend of mine. 

It ended spectacularly badly. 

I stupidly got in the middle of it. 

This person felt I didn't protect their sister adequately enough during the ugly ending. 

I have since learnt this person's sister has many problems, one of which appears to be distorting the truth to make herself out to be a victim in a situation she exacerbated by erratic and appalling behaviour. 

I had no idea my friend had an issue with me until I went to send them a message on Facebook and realised with a sting that I had, in fact, been deleted!

Ah the facebook deletion.. It's my generation's answer to slamming the phone down. It's hard to hang up on someone with flair nowadays. The person on the other end cannot sense how hard you push the "end call" button on your iphone or blackberry so we turn to the facebook deletion.. 

Its not as sudden but when the relisation hits that you've been barred from someone's profile you once could access easy breezy, the effect is just as breath taking. 

I thought... Wait a minute! We have plans this weekend.. We spoke only 3 days ago... I've been deleted? DELETED!!

I immediately called this person, I had to know what had happened.. No answer.

I text them.. No answer..

Finally after a week the now infamous "vibes" text arrived on my phone..

I was truly flabbergasted. We had not even had a conversation regarding what I assumed to be the issue which was their sister's and my friend's relationship going horribly wrong. Not one word spoken. They'd taken the word of their troubled and hurt sister over mine. I didn't even get to take the stand. Given a guilty verdict without trial, sent to the chair without an appeal - I'll stop with the law analogies now.

I felt the need to canvass all my friends on my "vibes" just in case I did have an underlying issue I was unaware of.. You can never be too careful with these things. I was re-assured I had excellent vibes by all "The Gays" and "The Girls" confirmed the health of them also..

So, I've had to try and be at peace with this person's behaviour and decision to end our friendship. 

My husband Scotty probably had the best response to this whole situation. After viewing the text message and dealing with my sobbing he said: "Emy, that message is piss weak. Move on." 

Sage words husband, my vibes and I are going to do just that.

Speak soon.

E x

Big Occasion Fighting

My family are what's known as "Big Occasion Fighters" most of the time we are pretty civil towards each other. Give us a wedding, birthday, funeral, Australian Idol live performance, national athletics final and we are at it like Mike Tyson in a room full of ears.

This is why I have grown to hate my birthday.

Here is a fun fact for you all.

Every year from age 5 right through to 16 I was sent to my room DURING my birthday party for poor behaviour. Yes EVERY SINGLE ONE. I remember one particular year I was having a pool party and I refused to be kind to my little sister. I really didn't want her there, I begged Mum to ship her off to my Auntie's for the day- No dice.

My Mother became so frustrated with me withholding the pool pony from her and generally being a cow I was sent to my room....

Which over looked the pool....

While my party continued on I sat on my bed watching it silently plotting the death of my sisters guinea pig, it was to involve a slinky and some peanut butter (Note, no harm ever came to Oswald the guinea pig, well that's not entirely true.... Wait, I'll get into that in a moment)

The next year I had another party which involved me being sent to my room because we had been busted putting incense in our mouths and blowing it out like cigarettes....

It was PATCHOULI for goodness sake! My Mum freaked out and I was banished.. It seems a few of the kids got a little light headed on the incense (Ok so maybe a few had joints instead of incense but I was not one of them, I was too piss weak so I went with the sandlewood patchouli mix. Straight off the incense stick no less!) ....and may or may not have let him out of the cage.. To this day there is no hard proof that someone at my party killed him, I still think he could be out there roaming the streets of Diamond creek....

Once I moved in with my husband we took over the proud tradition of B.O.F.. At our wedding we fought right there on the dance floor, he refused to twirl me.. I'd pretty much waited for this moment my whole life and when he refused I was livid. So as we swayed to Al Green's "Let's stay together" those sitting close enough to the dance floor would have heard me muttering through gritted teeth "God, you are so selfish. Just fucking twirl me".....

Anyway, today is my birthday.. I have become very anxious about this day. I wake up expecting to fight with someone in my family. I didn't realise this is why I hate my birthday so much until my husband was doing some "unsolicited life coaching" and got to the bottom of it.. He asked me to think back to as many birthdays as I could and see if there was a common negative theme.. There sure was! Me, in my bedroom hating the world while my friends played. I usually deserved to be there mind you, it's not that my Mother was a sadist.. She turned into one when I hit 15, as did I.

It's 6:07pm and I am about to meet my parents for dinner. I am going in with a positive attitude.
I must put an end to the Big Occasion Fighting for the sake of my children. This is not a legacy I wish them to have.


Smiling and waving!

Em x