Love and marriage, love and marriage, goes together like a horse and carriage...and I bet gay weddings will have some fabulous horse drawn carriages to mark the arrival of equality.
The issue has been discussed and debated, protests have been marched, petitions were signed, and now we can all celebrate or commiserate, and then move on.
One of the best things that will come from the passing of the Marriage Amendment Bill is that the arguments will stop and the nastiness will cease.
I'm glad to have it carved in stone and written into the law, not only for the obvious and most important reason of equality, but also so people will eventually stop voicing their hateful views.
As an openly bisexual woman there has not been a week gone by since the bill was pulled from the ballot that I have not had to listen to somebody telling me exactly why it shouldn't be made into law, and why it is wrong to even want it to.
I am sure it won't come as a shock, but your ex-boyfriend talks about you to the girls
he dates after you break-up.
If you think that once you've parted ways then you are out of sight and out of mind,
then think again ladies.
When you get past your mid-twenties chances are you have had a couple of
significant relationships which have shaped you, as well as your outlook on
Well, the boys are no different, and when it comes to dating you can almost
guarantee a conversation about the ex, even if it is brief.
Whether your old flame talks about you with fondness, labels you a crazy ice queen,
or whether they simply start crying into their Heineken at the mention of your name,
don't fret my dears, because the conversation will reveal more about your ex than it
will about you.
I have kissed a lot of frogs in my time, but none of them has turned into a handsome prince.
Despite my disappointment I still secretly ache to be a princess, to have a fairy godmother transform me into the belle of the ball, and to have glass slippers that are a size too big for me.
Perhaps the desire to be a princess is one most females are born with, perhaps it is one we are conditioned into, or perhaps it's one that Disney feeds us from a young age.
Whatever the reason for the thrills and the spills of pink lace, it's no wonder Kate Middleton, and everything she does, seems to be the talk of the tabloids.
Her fashion sense has been emulated all over the world, as Chinese sweatshops had a near-replica of her wedding dress hitting the shelves the morning after her big day.
Her health has been featured on
I arrived at work yesterday and spied a bag of easter eggs on my desk, smelt a giant plate of warm and buttery hot cross buns and then got told we had a new coffee machine.
I am not one for religious holidays, but Easter is scoring points with me this week.
Until last year I was rather confused about this chocolately holiday.
I went to church when I was young and I had heard all of the stories, but despite the tales of resurrection I'd always struggled with one tiny little detail.
I didn't struggle with the son of God disappearing from a cave, it wasn't the nails driven through his hands and feet that got me, and it wasn't even that I couldn't believe a man was treated in such a horrendous way.
The thing that plagued my mind was what on earth did fluffy bunnies and chocolate eggs have to do with Jesus?
As I do with all things that need clarifying, I asked my wise and worldly grandparents.
Yesterday one of my best friends moved to Melbourne, today my other bestie jets off to the Gold
Coast and tomorrow is the farewell party for my friend who is moving back to Luxembourg.
As you are reading this I am probably rocking in the corner, wine in hand, softly singing this to
''Nobody likes me, everybody hates me,
I think I'll go eat worms!
Big fat juicy ones,
Eensie weensy squeensy ones,
See how they wiggle and squirm!''
They say friends are the family you get to choose, and for centuries women have survived purely
because of the power of their friendships.
When the boys are with their mates having beers down at the pub, watching footy and eating steak,
the girls can often be found at home in their pajamas, eating ice cream and having pillow fights.
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