Sheds and Landlords

Published August 3, 2026 by helentastic67

Sheds and Landlords

These days I like people who offer me more solutions than problems. It is to say even if I’m not paying them out of pocket and its coming from my NDIA funding I want solutions. Efficiency is also ideal. One of the many conversations trying to solve the problems around my scooter and storing it and powering it, etc.

Oh my God and when I moved almost a year ago now, I cannot tell you what I would have given somebody to not need to discuss dishwashers ever again, but my scooter. Just kill me.

Had a meeting with an OT, who I will add should probably have been project managing solving this issue! and when she looked to depart, I said to her “Aren’t you going to stay to discuss shed’s and storing solutions?” I was informed she had another client to go see and she didn’t know anything about “sheds!” Fuck! I didn’t either but I might have considered she could have learnt.

I will point out now for over fifteen years when my first OT sorted my scooter, the funding for which and separate funding for a shed from a separate NGO, for which every place I’ve rented since I’ve been able to put the shed on the property somewhere to house and charge and secure the precious hellonwheels.

Landlords came to the party with little effort to install a live power supply. One property manager when I dropped in for a friendly chat to let him know I would be formally giving notice to vacate he told me, “You’ll be leaving the shed?” My landlords were wogs. As was he, and I had no problem reminding him the shed was mine and he could “Fuck off!” so it was never mentioned again. They are lucky the police had not been contacted after my landlord had gotten handsy and I on a second occasion took the time to explain to him he had no right to ask what he had of me and no right to imagine what he had. I will hope you get where this was going? He did not think he had done anything wrong and he was only dissuaded from his thinking when I suggested we ask his son to join the conversation and see what he thought. His son parked out the front to deliver his children before breakfast, then he collected them after work at the end of the day. The landlord lived very close by. The son was close to my age, I know he would have not been impressed by his father’s actions.

I’ve not told many of what happened on several occasions in my home where you should feel safe, where you pay money to someone who therefore has power and responsibility over you, but the few people either did an incident report and another told me I definitely had a skill set that many did not.

In case you are concerned I was not assaulted. I’m not a victim or a survivor; I just didn’t appreciate his hand being anywhere on my person he thought he could put it for whatever his intentions. Not complaining. I think I look back at all the jobs, in clubs or elsewhere and they all gave me certain skills, a calm confidence to deal with situations most do not have to in a workplace.

You should take it for granted that I’m nice, I’m sweet, but you don’t mess with me. Few people have learnt this the hard way and karma is a Bitch! And so am I.

That got dark, didn’t it? I just mean when people do me wrong, I point out to them the error of their ways so they are not misled to think they can take advantage of me or others.

I should also say if you have been inflicted with attention you did not ask for whatever the outcome, please talk to someone you trust, a friend, a person in a position to help guide or navigate unfamiliar territory. But tell somebody. It’s not your fault and you didn’t ask for it. I wonder if I should have offered a trigger warning at the beginning of this post. It is not where I intended for it to go, so I apologise if anybody has reason to feel traumatised.

Slap of Wisdom

Published February 9, 2026 by helentastic67

Slap of Wisdom

If you had any superpower, what would it be?

I always wanted mine to be the slap of wisdom, I go to stupid people – slap them (think DiNozzo from NCIS, the character played by Michael Weatherly) and instantly “oh yeah I get it now” I naturally think my superpower is bluntness.

I got on a tram today and asked a woman to give me her seat. I’m always careful as you can’t always tell if they have a disability. The woman instantly misunderstood and presumed it as her job to swiftly direct me to another seat down the tram. While the seat she was diverting me to wasn’t far but faced the wrong way. I would have had motion sickness in minutes. I also would have struggled to getup, stay up and negotiate my way back to a door when it was time to get off. All the while – A) not having my bag possibly fall of my shoulder creating a further trip hazard, B) not falling over and breaking every bone in my body. Luckily a woman that got on in front of me politely told the women she could go to that seat (not me). And then she sat next to me (Also, taking up an accessible seat) to support me where she felt the need to explain why that woman should not ever have been sitting there. I shrugged, told her I agree and let it go, because this is what it’s like every day advocacy it never ends.

SHOES

Went to see a shoe guy in the city today. I was already in the city and had to go from there to another area that required my ability to navigate around the city. I have not frequently visited since 1992 to 1993 (not kidding) and I knew I could walk but be hot and knackered by the time I got there, or I could navigate to a short tram ride before walking and maybe get there late. In the end, I took a tram two stops, then walked two blocks. I wasn’t 100%, certain exactly where he was since he was set up on the ground floor of a big car park. Shoe fetish.

Keys Can Have Layers and So Forth

Published May 19, 2025 by helentastic67

Keys can Have Layers and So Forth

Today! The D.B. finally went to its home in the storage cage in my carpark along with some laundry tubs a friend had bought to help me move but, just ended up needing to be moved then stored in my new home because said friend yet to return to see my new home and collect them. It is to say it’s another good example of why I stand by the decision to have bought a small dolly trolley years ago.

My carer today, standing the D.B. Upright and weirdly the plastic tubs perched on top, little adventures like this take time, planning and all the other chores caught up on so time can be put to tasks such as the D.B. going to its storage place.

Being one-handed I manage the keys, the doors, the buttons in the lift and the navigational prowess. Down to the ground floor, where outside the lift is a small area with a sensor light and another door to the garage. As we got out of the lift the architecturally flawed items fell and as I opened the door to the garage a man appeared. He had gotten out of the car someone was parking right next to the door. He was an older man, some salt and pepper in his hair and beard I couldn’t help myself, I told him “Thats not a dead body!” I think he appreciated my comment as he informed me, he didn’t believe me.

Times like these I appreciate despite my A.B.I. I’m quick witted. People probably wouldn’t even be aware of my A.B.I. That I’ve had longer than my fifty-two years, but I gave him a quick retort “It’s OK, because I may not know where you live but I don’t know where you park?” and from that he got in the lift and was gone. From knowing his carpark can work out his address.

So, inside the storage cage bits is protected from prying eyes, should anybody think to break into my storage cage, if the sight of what could be a dead body doesn’t scare them? Discovering rolls of off cuts of carpet will be to their greater disappointment.

Sh*t Experience at the Melbourne Internation Comedy Festival

Published April 15, 2025 by helentastic67

Shit toilet experiences at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival

In general, this topic would live outside that of the festival, but it could definitely be its own blog. Frustratingly, these experiences are far from rare. I’m part way through my festival events for this year despite my lack of time to write and post about it but at times you have to, live when the opportunities exist, write, recuperate and replenish spoons over the hibernation of winter months to come.

Last night I saw two comedy shows very carefully booked, curated and logistically arranged by my event booking genius carer who is one of my heavy hitter admin chicks.

My first show was at the Arts Centre to see Danny Bhoy. I saw him the last time he was here as after my father’s passing back in late 2022, I decided the comedians I always wanted to see I would just start doing it.

Since making that decision, I’ve prioritised not only Danny Buoy, but Kitty Flanagan. Nath Valvo and Ivan Aristeguieta. To name a few and my accessible toileting experiences are always super not fun.

The Arts Centre despite the beautiful venue, the helpful staff, the frosted glass doors to the accessible toilet on the third floor closest to the ticket booking office, I locked the door, checked it. Locked it again, checked it, again. Ah, success.

Removed my cuff and collar, my bag, walking stick, and hoodi top. I know, over sharing and obviously my pants, to use the facilities, to do what I was there to for. I heard an older lady’s voice! “Here! Come in here!” and the door opened. Like I had not locked it. Now, I had hung my bag on the door handle which would not interfere with the lock, I might have thought could be seen through the frosting. Should someone bother to look. At least I was not mid-poo or mid-wipe. I had just managed to get a few single ply tissue squares from the selfish T.P. Dispenser. More importantly, the door remained open in this awkward unnecessary social INTERACTION.

It’s odd that the elderly love to imagine the accessible toilets are their domain and only theirs. I think they see me on their throne as a young person. Thank you! And not in need to use these toilets. I actually had to ask her to close the door with a polite “Do you mind?” It was more than she deserved considering the length of time she stood staring at me unsure how to solve this social quagmire.

I guess I should follow up this incident with an email to the venue, or just forward them this post when it goes live.

After this show, a short walk, a tram for two stops and another short walk to our next destination a toilet stop, this toilet had an ambulance toilet although I didn’t realise until I was ready to depart. I had used the lady’s facilities this time as I can often do and will. If that porcelain had been any lower to the floor, I might not have made it up again.

The second comedy show this time at the Melbourne Town Hall. To see our very own Ivan Aristeguieta. OK, He isn’t originally ours but, he’s seriously Australian now. He migrated from Venezuela thirteen years ago and originally settled in Adelaide. He divorced and had in the last year married one of ours. So, he’s ours now. It’s hilarious to see our culture through the eyes of a new Aussie.

This is my fourth time seeing his show in the ten years he’s performed here. Wish I’d been able to meet him at the meet and greet he announced he was doing. My friend sadly departed after my last bathroom experience as he had a train to get to home.

My second bathroom experience, younger people more prominent in the audience but not completely I chose to check out the accessible bathroom. Lock. Tick. Hook on wall, tick and toilet not close to the floor. Tick! However, things fell apart a little when I encountered the again “selfish” paper dispenser. Or it could have just been the previous occupant as I could not for the life of me find the end of the roll. I hate those big commercial toilet roll dispensers that have the ability to not be so big they either hold two rolls with the plastic sliding thing to allow access to the other roll or there is a big roll that allows them to not replace it for days. I don’t know, it’s nice that they think it’s not important to check. I checked my boob-pocket for a tissue and would have made do. But alas, I had neglected to stash one for such emergencies and I was forced to frustratingly continue with the roll. Eventually, leaving a shredded confetti protest on the floor after managing the squares I’d required.