Make Love, Not War

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LAST Friday I was attacked by a man I had never met before in a supermarket car park in Brisbane. I use the word attacked because while it was not physical, it was very verbal and extremely emotional and at one point, I believed he was about to become physical. I could also use the word abuse. So what prompted this attack? While parking my car, I had mistakenly parked over two car spaces, as the white lines indicating where to park had faded. It was a tight two spaces, because a tree in the corner had uprooted the bitumen, so I chose to park as far away from the uprooted bitumen as possible.

The "offending" car space. Spot the white line, if you can...

The “offending” car space. Spot the white line, if you can…

What happened next rattled me. As I alighted from my car, an angry white male, in his late 50s to early 60s, was standing there, screaming at me, saying he had wanted to park in the space beside me (for the record, there were plenty of empty car parks around). And in an absolute rage he started roaring: “Just take a look at yourself Sweetie!” At first, I didn’t know what I’d done and then I pointed out that I simply could not see where the white lines were meant to be. He paused and agreed with me, stating he had already complained to the shopping centre about this. Which I would have thought was the end of the argument. But then he came menacingly close, and just kept yelling at me: “Take a good look at yourself Sweetie!” The only thing I could do was mutter: “Don’t call me Sweetie”, which further infuriated him as he spat out the word “Sweetie” over and over again, at one point stepping close as if he was going to hit me. Eventually he drove off, and I sat in my car and wept. I cried because I was shocked, scared and stunned at the blatant sexism of this man.
I texted a male friend who urged me to call the police. But I argued the man had not committed any real crime. At the same time a female friend texted and she insisted I make my complaint to shopping centre management, which I did, feeling embarrassed and foolish the whole time, as I wept and shook. They were kind, giving me water and tissues and recording my complaint, but essentially powerless to do anything. As I drove home, without my groceries, I wondered what would have happened had I been dressed in a burqa. I’ve been thinking for weeks about writing about the simmering anger that seems to be pervading Australian streets right now, but until this incident, I felt unable to articulate this new paradigm.
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I am not, for one minute, suggesting last week’s incident compares at all to what is happening to peace-loving Muslims in Australia right now. If there are any parallels to be drawn, it’s how unjustifiably angry and disenfranchised some Australians seem to be. And how prepared they are to act on this anger. And that scares me. In the past week, there’s been numerous reports of attacks on Muslim people simply going about their business. A woman in a burqa being set alight by a man; another woman having hot coffee thrown on her from a car window; Muslim kids in a kindergarden in lockdown to protect their safety. Every single day, there’s something nasty and new against Muslim Australians.
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I’m horrified and disgusted by what’s happening to our country right now. And ashamed. I love Australia and I believe we are a big country with a big heart. There’s no room for bigotry. And no room for stupidity. For a Prime Minister who is meant to be showing leadership, I’m appalled that all Tony Abbott has achieved is whip up a culture of pure hatred. I’m stunned that those attacking everyday Muslims going about their business are so ill-informed that they cannot separate the radicalism of those who support the Islamic State from everyday people who look a little different. Given our long record of immigration and multiculturalism, I’m bemused when somebody accuses someone else of being “un-Australian”. I am yet to see a definition of what being an “Australian” is. Is it in how I dress? The colour of my eyes, hair and skin? What I eat or don’t eat? Does it lay in my religion or lack of faith?
The day after I was abused in the car park, I returned to the shopping centre, as I still needed to get my groceries. And for the first time, I felt fear. But as my morning progressed, I realised that Australians are essentially good people. He’ll never know it, but I thank the man who accidentally bumped into my grocery bags, and then stopped to apologise. Another man let me go first in the queue, even though it was his turn. And so, my confidence returned and more interestingly, I found myself remembering to be compassionate towards others. Yes, we’re Australians, but we are also global citizens, who happen to be incredibly lucky to either be born or have immigrated to this amazing land Down Under. This largely peaceful place of droughts and flooding rains. Of sunshine, beaches, barbecues, rainforests, reefs and yawning Outback. An attack, whether it is by a terrorist organisation, or an angry man in a car park, has always been likely. But a life lived in fear is no life at all.
Me, in The Middle East

Me, in The Middle East

Boobs and Broadbeach

TRUE to form I spy the tea and coffee on offer, panic, and sidle up to what I believe is a member of the wait staff and discreetly enquire whether they could rustle me up a champagne. It’s 3pm on a Wednesday afternoon and I’m at a High Tea, but I’m bamboozled by the lack of bubbles, the thought of which has kept me going on the one-hour drive from Brisbane to the Gold Coast. What I don’t realise until a little later is the waitress is actually a senior member of the hotel executive team who has invited me to this event and I’ve just made a complete boob of myself.
Thankfully boobs are in vogue this particular afternoon, as the High Tea is being staged to launch the cookbook Cook 4 a Cure to raise funds for the National Breast Cancer Foundation, and to celebrate the opening of Australia’s newest resort brand ULTIQA Resorts. I’m at the five-star beachfront ULTIQA Air on Broadbeach listening to Australia’s highest-selling cookbook author Kym McCosker speak about her latest tome, the 18th in her “4 ingredients” cookbook series. So successful is Kym, she’s outsold Jamie Oliver 3:1 with more than nine million cookbooks now retailing in 30 countries. Her first book catapulted her to the highest-selling self-published author in Australian history, clocking up three million sales. Which is not bad from a girl from the tiny Queensland town of Mundubberra.
It’s a perfect Pacific Ocean aqua afternoon outside, replete with migrating humpback whales languidly slapping their tails out on the horizon, but inside it’s all passion and pink satin. Cook 4 a Cure, which is sold exclusively through Big W stores, aims to raise $100,000 for breast cancer research to assist the National Breast Cancer Foundation’s goal of zero deaths from this insidious disease by 2030.
Throughout the afternoon, dining on such delicious rosewater tea and Kym’s home-made cakes and biscuits that I actually forget I’m not drinking any champagne, I have an overwhelming desire to check my breasts, which is exactly what guest speaker Mark Wood urges us to do. (Normally it’s AFTER I drink champagne that I am overcome by the urge to commit inappropriate acts in public). Mark, regarded as the “Mr Pink” of the Australian speaking circuit, volunteers his time to speak about breast cancer after losing his wife Annie to the disease seven years ago, and says one in eight Australian women will be told they have breast cancer at some stage.
“Today, 37 women will be told they have breast cancer. To think that’s happening to 37 people today and the day after is far too many. And seven people would have lost that battle today,” he says.
“My wife got a death sentence but my daughter, who was 12 at the time that Annie died, got a life sentence losing her mother so young.
“Twenty years ago, 37 per cent of women diagnosed with the disease died, but that’s now been halved through awareness and education.”
At this point, I wish I did have some champagne, as then I could blame the demon drink on becoming all tired and emotional, but as I furtively glance around the room, I find I am not alone. There’s not a dry eye in the house.
The National Breast Cancer Foundation has raised $105 million in the past twenty years towards 370 research projects which don’t just target breast cancer but other forms of the disease. And, in exciting news, Mark says researchers are working on nano-technology which will be able to tell from a simple breath test whether any cancer is present in your cells.
“People often think breast cancer runs in the family but the statistics don’t support that. Of all new cases, 90 per cent have no family history. So please don’t think because you haven’t got it in your family you won’t be affected,” he says.
It’s a fitting message delivered in a fitting setting, as ULTIQA is a Queensland family-owned property group owned by the Henry’s who not only donated the function room and their time free-of-charge, but during the afternoon, contribute $5000 from their personal pocket to add to what will be raised by Kym’s events and book sales to breast cancer. Mark Henry, the resort group’s Managing Director, says the name ULTIQA stands for ultra modern boutique apartments. There’s currently four in the ULTIQA stable including Air on Broadbeach and Freshwater Point Resort, also at Broadbeach on the Gold Coast; Rothbury Hotel in Brisbane; and Shearwater Resort on the Sunshine Coast.

ULTIQA Air Broadbeach

ULTIQA Air Broadbeach

I spend two nights experiencing the two Broadbeach-based properties, which echo with the heart and hard work of the Henry family. In between, I check out my boobs. And it seems I am not alone. On my second morning as I walk along the beachfront, I’m accosted by a 14-year –old-school boy, who offers to slather me in sunscreen, before scurrying off and sniggering with his mates. I should be offended by this future misogynist-in-the making but I simply smile to myself. This is clearly an indication that I’ve still got it. Yes, some days, all the breast things happen.
The Global Goddess was a guest of ULTIQA Air on Broadbeach and ULTIQA Freshwater Point Resort. To find out more about this latest offering in Queensland’ s tourism story please go to; To find out more about 4 ingredients, please go to; To donate to National Breast Cancer Foundation go to
ULTIQA Freshwater Point Resort

ULTIQA Freshwater Point Resort

One Date Dress

Where am I today? I’d love to say I’m off on a date, like the title of this blog suggests. And I am (kinda) just not the romantic sort. I’m over Guest Blogging at Styling You
As many of you know, I don’t have a CLUE about dating, so I’ve gone to the very stylish Nikki Parkinson to share my story (and for some much-needed fashion advice).
Look out world, here I come!
Check out what I had to say about my one and only date dress, and Nikki’s advice, here at:
And if you’re new to The Global Goddess, please scroll down (or refer to the Archives page on the left hand side) to read more about my dating, travel and spiritual adventures. Please follow me by clicking on FOLLOW on the very top black strapline of this page (next to my picture).

I Want To Know What Love Is

Photo by Gerwyn Davies

Photo by Gerwyn Davies

IT’S an auspicious start. A few days before it all begins, I receive an email with a “warning” that the performance I am about to experience contains “extreme coarse language, sexual references, loud music and sound effects, herbal cigarettes and smoke effects, and strobe lighting.” I feel like the corrupt version of Maria Von Trapp and for a second feel like bursting into a rendition of These Are a Few of My Favourite Things. On Friday night, I went to Brisbane’s Bille Brown Studio for the opening night of I Want To Know What Love Is. (By the way, this subject was the most Googled above all else, during 2012). No prizes for guessing what attracted me to this particular performance (apart from all the contraband mentioned above). It’s part of the Brisbane Festival and regular readers will know that I really, really want to know what love is, and not just during a 60-minute theatre performance. Yes, Sister Maria, rainbows and kittens aside, how do I solve this particular problem?
Photo by David D'Arcy

Photo by David D’Arcy

I’m hoping this production can give me some juicy tips and so I grab a mate and a glass of wine and enter The Greenhouse where it is showing with an open mind. Before the play begins, let me set the scene. The rest of the audience has filed in, and is happily sitting check-to-jowl while my mate and me sit all alone in a row, three accusingly empty chairs either side of us, like we’re wearing Ebola outbreak t-shirts. Now, this is not particularly unusual for either of us on a Friday night, my mate correctly describes herself as the woman most likely to attract the bloke in the bar about to publicly pee himself. I didn’t believe this at first, but I’ve now witnessed this special gift several hundred times and it’s insanely true. I, on the other hand, always attract the meanest man in any social setting, who hunts me down like a killer shark, and then tears me apart, limb by miserable limb.
Photo by David D'Arcy

Photo by David D’Arcy

But persevere we do and we laugh with silky irony when this show opens with the reminder to “switch off your phones because if they haven’t called you by now, they’re not going to.” For the next 60 minutes we’re taken on that rickety roller coaster that is love. This show was cleverly crafted after a specially-built website called was launched on Valentine’s Day this year and invited the public to respond to a series of questions about love. More than 800 people responded, of which 85 per cent spoke about romantic love and of these, about 40 per cent told of their heartbreak. Director Daniel Evans, who built the show around these submissions, describes the responses as “giddy love letters, steamy poetry, crush confessions and dark, painful admissions”.
Photo by David D'Arcy

Photo by David D’Arcy

And this hour-long show is one of amorous anarchy where you learn of all kinds of love from that of dads and dogs to the more traditional kind. At times, like love itself, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, so I clutch my wine and do both. Yes, this is a story of sex, seduction and sadness (plus copious rose petals) and afterwards you’ll really feel like a post-production cigarette, even if you’re a non-smoker like me. Yes, it’s colourful and complicated, at times well choreographed and at others, just plain confusing, just like love.
Photo by David D'Arcy

Photo by David D’Arcy

Curiously, of the 812 people who filled out of the survey, only 9 chose to leave their name. But 322 elected to name of the person they loved instead. I still have no idea what love is, but I’m pretty sure it’s alive, just like those bloody hills Maria Von Trapp keeps banging on about.
I Want To Know What Love Is
The Global Goddess was a guest of the Queensland Theatre Company. I Want To Know What Love Is runs until September 13, 2014. To book this, or other Brisbane Festival performances, please go to Oh, and if you do find out what love is, be sure to drop me a line…
I Want To Know What Love Is

It’s A Kind Of Magic

SOMETHING weird and wonderful always happens whenever I stay at the Outrigger Surfers Paradise. And so I find myself yet again, awakening on a Friday morning, convinced I will find Bradley Cooper, a tiger and a baby (preferably in that order) in my hotel room bathroom. Regular readers of The Global Goddess will remember just two years ago, almost to the date, when I woke up with a swollen eye, a random game of two-up, a Gold Coast Meter Maid’s business card, and worst of all, a dodgy tummy which almost forced me to burst into a complete stranger’s hotel room to urgently use their toilet.
And here I am yet again, but on this occasion I have the hangover from hell, the origins of which I am acutely aware, but more curiously, a gigantic flower made entirely from balloons, laying beside me in bed. I squint at the flower and seriously have no idea from where this latest prop in my ridiculous life has sprung. I wrack my brains. Did I date a clown last night? Or worse, did I run away to the circus only to be rejected when they realised my serious lack of skills? What. The. Hell. Has. Happened?
The hangover hangs on but the fog starts to lift and I remember the afternoon started with a Spa-rty with my girlfriends in the Outrigger’s award-winning Day Spa & Salon. I’m dead sober when I walk in and meet the team who has just won the title of Best Customer Care at the Australian Beauty Industry Association’s Awards. You see, these women are not just masseurs, but qualified aestheticians who can make you look like Jennifer Hawkins after a 90 minute emerginC signature facial. (Information which would have come in mighty handy two years ago when I woke up with my Quasimodo eye). I opt for a massage and while I don’t walk out looking like Jennifer Hawkins, I am no longer sober as I have also been offered a glass of champagne. Which would have been great, had I not returned to my room, to find a whole bottle of the sparkling stuff and was overcome by the urge to drink half of it, lest it go flat.
Yes, things have got off to their usual start with me on a work trip (my Facebook fans can attest to the fact I have perfected the art of drinking alcohol while showering to save time while travelling for business). There’s more drinks when I enter the hotel’s aptly-named Deja View Restaurant before we sit down to dine on some of the restaurant’s signature seafood and other buffet items. My friend Corina, who was with me on the original journey two years ago, gently reminds me to take it easy on the oysters, largely because it was her room into which I ended up bursting that morning after the night before. And by bursting, I mean both figuratively and literally.
But the best is yet to come, as our waiter for the evening is Outrigger Surfers Paradise Staff Member of the Quarter Jason, aged 21. At first I think it’s for his impeccable service and incredible manners, but when he pulls out a bag of balloons and starts crafting them into all manners of objects, I realise we are in the company of a genius. And not only that, Jason actually ran away from home at 13 to join the circus, performing with the likes of Cirque de Soleil. For the record, I hate clowns, particularly those of the circus and dating variety. Thankfully this impromptu act has nothing to do with men with big red noses, bow ties and floppy shoes (my latest dates), but pure skill. Jason quickly crafts a colourful flower bracelet which he places around Corina’s wrist, before he makes the gigantic flower that will that night become my bed companion and the source of my confusion the next morning.
Magic, it seems, is the theme of this weekend on the Gold Coast, where the roar of construction from the past few years has been replaced by the gentle hum of trams which now roam her streets. And then there’s the reason I’m on the Gold Coast: the annual national ProBlogger Training Event. I should point out that while there are 500 delegates, only 10 percent are men, so if you are looking at this as some kind of dating event, you should possibly turn your attention elsewhere. (I said this was a weekend of magic, people, not miracles). But what I do receive is two days of training in ways in which to make The Global Goddess better and brighter for you, my valued readers. Darren Rowse, ProBlogger organiser, opens the event with the words: “We live in amazing times where ordinary people are doing extraordinary things”, citing that in this room alone, collectively we possess more than 30 million readers.
In another presentation, I am struck by a quote from Shayne Tilley who says: “The trend is to chase eyeballs. They can have the eyeballs. I care about the hearts and minds of my readers.” The engaging Pat Flynn, who ironically ends his presentation with a magic trick, reminds me to create memorable moments by surprise. But most of all, he reminds me to ask my readers what they want to read. And so, two years after I first launched The Global Goddess, this is my question for you: what do you want to read more of from me? Because my writing wand is poised and I’m ready to create more magic.
The Global Goddess stayed as a guest of The Outrigger Surfers Paradise. To find your own bit of Gold Coast magic, go to