Problem Solving

Published November 10, 2025 by helentastic67

Problem Solving

I’ve been trying to solve a problem in my new home since moving in last November. It’s such a mess.

There are so many moving parts and potential solutions but more people to ask permission from before implementing solutions to the problem. So, the work around feels like a real fuck around.

Sometimes, I wish a clairvoyant or divine entity would just point you in a direction and narrow the field for you.

Here’s a real estate example which has been the perfect example whenever I’ve been on the hunt for a new home. I gave this example to a friend earlier:

If you wanted to only live in Ivanhoe and you had a set budget, and you wanted a certain number of bedrooms, bathrooms, car spaces, etc, etc. And if you couldn’t budge on any of those parameters. Maybe money wasn’t a limiting factor and you absolutely had to live in Ivanhoe; you would spend what you needed to spend.

If budget was important you would start to compromise on different things depending on what you could live with. Maybe less bedrooms, or whatever, but eventually you didn’t even live in Ivanhoe.

Maybe a clairvoyant could point you in the right direction and suggest Ivanhoe. Yes! But start looking for something a little smaller, or …..xyz. Then you wouldn’t waste your time trying to find all these other solutions.

Just an FYI, I didn’t have Ivanhoe money so I’m just giving that as an example. People that live in Ivanhoe have Ivanhoe money. You can’t hate them. You just appreciate them.

This is one of the major things on my list I’ve been chipping away at and made all the worse by a “friend?” suggesting I needed to get on my issues, like I was being lazy? Who needs enemies when you have friends like this?

So, the problem? I feel a part two coming on

I’ve had my mobility scooter AKA Hellonwheels for the last 15+ years and every time I’ve moved, I’ve had varying degrees of storage and weather proofing, security, etc in storing my Hellonwheels.

Some places I’ve lived at were easier than others for scooter storage alone. One house I rented didn’t have room to put my shed up for the scooter, so I ended up putting a BBQ cover over the scooter in the backyard close to a power supply and using locker straps around the cover to secure the cover and waterproof my scooter. It was a fuck around solution.

At my last rented home, an apartment, my car space didn’t have power so I was able to swap with a neighbour so I could erect my shed, park my scooter inside and charge it. I also stored my gardening supplies, and at one point my oversupply of pasta and tinned tomatoes, and my panettone.

I am such a Nonna!

My landlord queried what I was storing in my shed and I suggest Owner Corp and landlords do not have a sense of humour. Don’t say what I did? I responded to their original query that I wasn’t cooking meth or anything. My shed wasn’t big enough for that and I ended up using the lights on the front of my scooter to illuminate the inside of the shed to show them the contents. Seriously!

And while I was living there, I could go in and out of the only entrance to the garage on my scooter, I could go straight into my shed or go up on my scooter in the lift without causing damage. Parking near my apartment door and transferring items gathered into my apartment one item at a time before returning my scooter down to the shed to store and recharge. When I had more to take up and less time, I’d unpack items into a market trolley I stored in my shed and take that up.

Every pedestrian entrance to that complex had zero access for a scooter, and therefore no access for a wheelchair, except the B1 level or the carpark, just to give you a bigger picture.

Good thing I only have used my scooter for solo shopping missions locally as well as prompt local appointments where I get to maintain a level of independence.

So, when I moved to my forever home, the real estate agent showed me the apartment. My car space, the lift, the direction of the closest power supply to my car space and basically gave advice on both my disability and access to things he had no working knowledge on and directed everything to be sorted by the owner Corp when the time came.

I don’t know if anyone else has had to deal with an owner Corp, or had to solve problems of access for someone with a disability? And under the NDIS I have people for that right?

I prompted my support co-ordinator if she could get on that and sort things so when I moved, I wouldn’t lose my independence around needing my mobility scooter. After multiple prompts I was provided with a company name and the comment that they were expensive.

You might imagine the title of that person, being a Support Co-ordinator would mean they um, Support and Coordinate?

But it often means THEY DO NEITHER OF THOSE TWO THINGS!

So…

Dear Channel 10

Published August 18, 2025 by helentastic67

Dear Channel 10

You fucked up! Not here to make friends just influence people.

A few months ago, people started reporting my favourite news program to be shit-canned. I thought there was time, not that I imagined I could influence some kind of reprieve. But only as a week later a deadline was announced and it was a foregone conclusion.

My favourite news program would include actual news, comedians and even musicians. So much wrapped up into an hour six days a week. I found if I was ill informed on a particular topic or just oblivious or naive it was explained in bite sized pieces so I could understand. I understood why there was a stampede at the Wall of Mecca back in 1015.

I know, what? There was a stampede where people were crushed and it wasn’t at some music concert or festival. But interesting and questionable how these happen in today’s modern times?

The most informed and completely unlike me individual host being Waleed Ali, someone I quote daily. He was often given the tough job to report like why there is another mass shooting in America. (he will start with how much he hates it) Because mass shootings generally don’t occur in Australia, we just can’t get our heads around why and how this can happen again and again and over again. Just how the fuck it keeps happening?

Have I mentioned we don’t have guns in Australia? Well, not like other countries at least. We have had some machete and knife incidents we are not well pleased with. You can search for Waleed Ali’s social media presence, but I don’t believe he has one. I didn’t check because it is well mentioned on the show he has zero interest in an online persona.

I believe he is part of a podcast which is something I don’t do. But in short, He is from Melbourne, Australia with Egyptian heritage. He was raised on Vegemite and the locally produced music program “Countdown” as I was.

He is actually younger than I am, by six years. I didn’t stalk; I just asked Google. Oh, he’s Muslim, which I am not. But in short, he’s a TV personality, Lawyer and sometime lecturer. I’ve met students he has taught. He’s married and has children. He’s a disability advocate and most importantly is credited by me daily for the line – “Bandaid on a bullet wound!” Because it’s often the best way to describe life with disabilities and how others try to shorthand a fix for a problem I must then revisit over and over again.

Anyway, way, back to how royally Channel 10 fucked up! Should I have premised this post with a swear warning? Or set myself a swear limit? As if!

I think Channel 10 executives were so trying to get the Millennial audience they lost the Gen X and older audience.

I mean, the Millennials as far as I can tell won’t take a job unless they get paid $100 grand a year and they holiday like retiree’s and spend their cash on smashed avo. But complain they can’t afford a mortgage or cover their HECS debt. They are not prioritising being sat home to watch the news at night they are out for dinner at expensive restaurants.

Had not intended to throw all millennials under the bus however, I spent my youth working and studying in the only course that exists where I wouldn’t get a job because I was a woman, a straight woman, without a car or a driver’s license. Ah, I am studying Visual merchandising. Because I didn’t get into what I wanted to study but I needed life to start in Melbourne, so I jumped. Had to get the hell outta Dodge.

FYI, Window dressing jobs at the big department stores were only employing older gay men! or when management was away, they might employ a female. I couldn’t do freelance without an ability to get around. (no car or driver’s license) And my photos didn’t turn out so no folio to find work.

I was also in my twenties in the 90’s when there was a recession. You grabbed any work you could find and you had to hustle. Hence, my commitment to Hospo and keeping myself busy.

Side Bar. I only learnt a few years ago when I was working in the club scene in my twenties I was working in Hospo. Which is short for Hospitality. I will circle back to this another day indeed.

Also, from what I can tell the Millennial generation is getting all their news from social media the algorithm’s giving them all the things they are interested and only that. It must be nice to have a belief system not based on history and legacy.

But going back to the stupidity of Channel 10 Exec’s? Yes, they bragged there would be a super awesome replacement. Paraphrasing somewhat. My bad, it wasn’t. I’ve watched it twice. It was dry. Bland and very boring. If I wanted that I could watch other channels. So, this now is to be replaced with a streamlined version of the 16+ year long program called the Project. When that will happen is anybody’s guess?

R.I.P. D5

Published March 24, 2025 by helentastic67

R.I.P. D5

I would suggest this is happening too often already. You would think fifty-two years old, would be considered middle age as I don’t know I’m going to make it to one hundred and four years old, nor would I want to. However, people I love are falling off the perch already and it’s too soon. If you don’t know, falling off the perch is the elderly term for dying.

Apart from the passing in late 2022 of my father’s death and the recent departure of a very close friend, she’s not dead just not in my weekly routine anymore. I learnt a week ago a friend from my clubbing days in my twenties had passed. He worked for me back in the day.

I think we bonded because we were from a similar part of the Victorian countryside. While I moved to Melbourne at nineteen to study and work, he moved to Melbourne without the same kind of plan. Not in place anyway. When I asked him why, he responded with “I looked around and just said No!” with a little shake of his head. Like me it was just an instinct to get the fuck outta town.

Around 2000 I had moved back to the country, not born in my hometown but to a more isolated community where my mum and younger sister had moved to. I needed a lift to town and a V-Line bus to go anywhere further. It was hard.

Every few months I’d get back to Melbourne and couch surf for a few days, to go clubbing and catch up with as many people as possible. Going to clubs was the easiest way.

Standing in a goth club I heard this song, looking around at how many people were dancing and not recognizing it, I found D5 close by and he asked that I didn’t know who it was. I was like, “No! I’m living back in the country where you get fuck all exposure to new music” let along anything else. This song will always remind me of him.

I guess a warning might be in order. But the beat is really good.

I’m sure for most it will be a lot, but her wiki page is interesting, if you dare. If you don’t follow my blog for a little different, you are in the wrong place. Teaches of Peaches – Wikipedia

So, around the time of my fiftieth birthday, I sent D5 an invite for my gathering in case he thought to join. My father had passed earlier that month and for years we had drifted, but I always send him a birthday text as he was born on Valentines Day. Bit hard to forget that one.

He came to my birthday and we caught up a few times, I cooked him dinner, my single girl dinner reminiscent from my twenties and that Christmas he gave me a lift to my father’s house in my home town on the way to his hometown. So, we had a three-and-a-half-hour road trip to chat and for me to own the CD Player and have him guess what I’d put on.

Moments after he had left me at my dad’s there was a knock on the door. He was there holding up the black thumb cast for my trigger thumb. “Good luck thumbing a ride without that?” He was rather reserved and shy but when he shared his wit it was a treat for your soul.

While I didn’t see or hear from him often and there had been years in between when he had been married and doing his thing it was always a comfort to know he was out there walking the earth. He is survived by his twin and his cat.

He told me his marriage had ended like many during the Covid 19 lockdowns when couples were confronted with being around each other in close confines 24/7 apparently, they looked at each other and just both said No.

Now, alas, the world is bereft from his passing. He had chosen to fight his battle with cancer with only a small few aware this was his fate. He had told me he was dealing with something but not what. He was about seven years younger than me and the younger brother I never knew I needed. But our world forever better for the time he had been amongst us.

R.I.P. D5.

I am too young to be saying goodbye to friends

* D and the number there after referring to the number of Dave’s in the club days, I’ll cover that another day. D5 was a longstanding Dave and not to be undervalued despite not being D1- D6+ ceased to exist. Obviously, finishing today’s post without my regular cheer.

Honesty is a Blessing – Part 2

Published March 16, 2025 by helentastic67

Honesty is a Blessing Part 2

Honesty amongst friends is a beautiful thing. It brings wit and humour even in dark situations. If you don’t have friends, you can do this with you need to surround yourself with some.

A friend was going to holiday in Japan with her husband, but it was possible the relationship would end before this event. I asked what might happen if the relationship exploded before the planned holiday? Quickly suggesting another friend and I would go with if she needed the company. There was no mention to Pony Up some finances, but I like to imagine its implied. Alas, the relationship survived as you would hope so.

A catch up with my plus one, that the friend was on the arranged vacation and plus one stated “It should have been us!”

Oh My God! And I laughed.

I don’t even have a passport right now as I let it lapse back in ’04 and clearly the right people went on that holiday, but it could have been us.

The OG

Published December 8, 2024 by helentastic67

The OG

Someone called me that today. I’m honest enough to say I didn’t know what it was, but as I left the lift in my building suggesting to the other occupant to join the Facebook page, I created pre-Covid to create community, I told him I’m the admin. He said “Oh, you’re the OG!” I gave him a hand signal I often use to communicate “cool”.

Once inside my apartment I consulted Google. I will let you do the same. I think it’s the Hipsters version of someone who is wise and is connected. Although I’m not sure Gangster has the best sentiment. I generally associate that term with something you want to be on the right side of. You have those friends not enemies.

I have friends that have those friends. It’s safe enough for me.

Brittle

Published July 15, 2024 by helentastic67

Brittle

So, was in a Zoom meeting this week with a group I really enjoy being part of. It’s not completely women and sometimes I’ve been known to use the term, “Ladies!” Later thinking Damn it! Fucked it again.

Alas, I digress, at the start of every meeting we go around the group and do an internal weather check-in. If you are thinking this is soft, think again. It’s a chance to check in and find out how everybody is. Some meetings it’s also useful if there is anything that will get in the way of the meeting. In that meeting, I’m always tired, but share, I’ve got “Medicine and treats!” to get me through, medicine being coffee and treats being chocolate coated coffee beans just to begin.

I still got caught resting my eyes during the financial reports of that meeting. How do I know where the money went? I didn’t take it. Nothing worse than struggling to keep your eyes open and someone has obviously noticed because the split second your eyes stay closed a millisecond too long, they curtly say your name. PRESENT! Anyway, in the check in I mentioned I was feeling brittle. Going through the existential crisis again and then was a little too broken up to speak. But it became the topic of the day. My common crisis revolves around. Is this it now?

I have no real way to work to improve my financial situation, as I let go of groups and contacts I’ve been associated to in over fifteen years, I have reached my level to tolerate people and trying to make change in a group setting.

The two groups I’m still part of, I stay connected because I feel it’s always good to remain tethered somewhere. If you don’t and can’t work, you can’t drive to explore and be fully independent, your connections cease to be family, who might be far away, but people who actively choose to be part of your life.

There are always layers to grief and not just the loss of loved ones but the end of friendships, the history and shared experiences during the hard times. And the older we get the harder it is to give a flying tutti fruity to make new friends.

Hellonwheels – Part 2

Published May 6, 2024 by helentastic67

Hellonwheels – Part 2

Don’t know if I’ve mentioned this but my mobility scooter runs on two batteries that sit directly under the seat I sit on. They are charged whenever my scooter is back in its shed. The Murder Shed! Remember?

Whenever I take her out on my local adventures when I return home, I like to scooter down to the basement to get a good run and I joke “Open her motor up!” It’s my version of a good freeway drive.

On one occasion when I was going up and out, I heard a motorbike starting down in the basement of the carpark. I thought I’ll just get up in front of it and open up, the boom gates, etc for whoever was coming up behind me.

As I came out the big gate to the street, the motorbike roaring from behind, a tram driver about to take over for his shift came to the garage entrance and started to do the racing car finale wrap up (you know, the salute?) Except, when he saw me on hellonwheels, he heard the motorbike which sounded pretty gutsy.

I stopped for a moment to say hello to the motorcyclist. Yeah, WE’RE FRIENDS NOW and I stopped for a moment to chat and share a laugh with the tram driver.

Friends That Know Me

Published June 4, 2023 by helentastic67

Friends That Know Me

You know it’s your friends who really know you and understand you. Last week, I had an extra adventure to a few shops to get different things. It was an extra few hours to catch up on things I never have enough time for and need. At the end of the day, I was calculating what I had spent where and was surprised how little I spent at Bunnings. (It’s Australia’s favourite hardware store!) even more popular during all the Covid crazy.

Tonight, I was on the phone to a friend and I said to him, “I went to Bunnings and only spent $9.00. What’s wrong with that?”

And without missing a beat, “You didn’t buy a plant?” I laughed so hard because he had hit the nail on the head.

These days I have to avoid the plants because I have NO MORE ROOM for plants, my balcony has plants around the edges, a rack that has multiple levels of plants cascading down over the edge and a tall curry plant. I also hang my washing out all year round and the few plants that are inside in the windows are watered carefully at the kitchen sink then returned the next day.

My apartment has west facing windows and a balcony. It means in summer the setting sun is brutal and in the colder months my home is rather dark so no more plants.

Also, all the orchids I had when I moved in, the indoor ones. They’re dead now. My next home when that happens (not anytime just yet) needs to have more space, indoor and out. Maybe something North-Facing? Just putting it out there. But not yet, I’ve only been here five and a half years. It’s the longest I’ve lived somewhere since I moved out at 19. My Mum did once call me a Gypsy, weird as I’m such a homebody.

The Passing of Time

Published April 25, 2022 by helentastic67

The Passing of Time

Sometimes, time passes, not by anything big that happens in my life, but by the absence of people in my life. Despite, Covid blasting 2020 to hell, Australia started the year in flames (the bushfires) and I don’t spend Christmas 2019 with any of my family, so due to Covid, any of the reasons we would normally get together during the year, they normally travel to Melbourne as it’s central to both outlying parties, but we would normally do a nice exciting lunch, etc. This did not happen in 2020.

But the people who are really my family these days, are my carers. I know, you may think I’m always banging on about my carers, that’s because I see them more. They are consistent in my every day and they see the effort and subtle changes around my home as I maintain my independence.

And sometimes, what they do makes the passing of time for me. One of my carers during Covid took leave for 12 weeks. 12 friggin weeks!

To do a course via Zoom!

“Zoom” The other plague of 2020, I’ve had 1–2-hour meetings of which I’ve found to be torturous. She’s been doing 9-5pm. Just kill me now. KM!!!KM!! KM!!! KM!!!KM!!!

The first few weeks, her two shifts were covered and she picked up my Sunday shift. I sent her off with some foodie goodness to help lighten her load. I told her after zooming all day she would not be interested in cooking. When she was at the ten-week mark, I was happiest for her because the whole living by zoom thing. And before you know it, she’s only had three weeks left.

So, it’s odd I guess, I don’t have children, which is a busy way to fill your time. I don’t work, which if you’ve ever had to live by a three-month contract timeframe. Three-month contracts, it’s long enough to cause you financial burdens, but not long enough to plan a holiday or big experience, etc.

So, for me, time passes one day after another, after another and it’s FULL of all the appointments, the meetings, the planning for the bigger procedures throughout the year.

A few lunches with friends, maybe out to dinner once or twice and a once yearly comedy event.

You know those posts, I’m sure I covered all the things, but I don’t know how to finish. I am exhausted by all the things that pass time and don’t have the strength or nutrition to improve the things that help me pass the time, but still. Fuck you Covid!

The end.

Normal Friends

Published September 27, 2021 by helentastic67

Normal Friends

In my earlier years of having case management, I mentioned as one of my goals that I wanted some normal friends and contact with the outside world that didn’t constantly throw me in with people with brain injuries or depression/mental health, etc.

I mentioned it specifically like this as my previous C.M. had a tendency to favour the ‘Clubhouse’ their organization ran. I would joke that they literally did a drive-by, push the door open and shove you out! Exclaiming “Have fun!”

My monthly meetings with my C.M. went on and while trying to maintain my independence, find funding for the different things, refer me to O. T’s and all the ‘other’, more attainable goals finding ‘normal’ friends was always pushed to the side for more important and pressing things.

This new potential friend was occasionally mentioned to me and because I insisted on more details, I was assured she was witty and smart. I confess, I don’t have much time for slow, dim-witted people.

What? My brain doesn’t have much time for. C’mon! Hurry the fuck up! I can’t help it. My brain is busy and Stephen Hawking I am not. But, over time, I was volunteered more and more info about this new potential friend. I had not been terribly keen as she was living across town. I don’t have the energy to get to the people I already know and love to go across town.

Are your spidey senses going off yet?

Mine have been from day one. I should point out, C.M. works like this. I self-referred. They come see you or vice versa, you sign contract, they get paid.

Everything I said I wanted and needed, which they said they could do, they fuck all did.

They did the easy things. They only met with me as often as I insisted because I pestered them and because I’m fun and cool and amusing. Imagine, if someone isn’t cool or fun or can’t implement Pester Power?

That part of me is still in that childlike era, I do exceptionally well at Pester Power. So C.M. tried to shake me loose. “Hey? We haven’t done all the things yet!”

You realise, you sign that contract, they get paid and if you don’t keep on them, they can get away with never seeing you again.

So, the C.M. let slip one day, could I help the client with her rostering of carers? She couldn’t manage her roster, didn’t return calls, couldn’t schedule, etc. Could I help her with that?

So, she wanted me to do her job now?

People often don’t even realise I have a disability. Well, several really. So, they see me upright and walking and talking and smiling until one day I make a BOLD statement and people are shocked into a different idea of Helen’s normal.