Different people place different definitions on the term "quality time". Some define it as a holiday, time away from society, a romantic dinner. Me, I refer to quality time as anything that makes us happy or makes us laugh, and reminds us why we have stayed together for so long.

Some things that I have labelled as quality time before include walking the dogs, mowing the lawn together, cooking dinner together, camping, hiking, bike rides, and overcoming fears together.

Yesterday we experienced a new type of adventure that, I believe, can safely be filed under the "quality time" heading.

We went for a walk to the shops to grab some dinner supplies for the evening. Upon reaching the checkout we noticed some "Jelly Belly" boxes perched above the magazine stand. For those who don't know who Jelly Belly are, they are a company who make gourmet jellybeans. Their flavours are exotic and delicious.

This particular box of Jelly Belly beans were called "Bean Boozled". The box contains eight different coloured jellybeans, but sixteen different flavours. So, eight of their famous gourmet-flavoured jellybeans, and then some... different... flavoured jellybeans that are the same colours as the gourmet beans. Basically, it is like a lucky dip, and you never know if you have picked a deliciously flavoured jellybean or a horribly flavoured jellybean until you have put it in your mouth and had a chew.

Now, don't think I am exaggerating when I say these alternate flavours are disgusting. The eight horrible flavours are: Booger, Toothpaste, Rotten Egg, Vomit, Mouldy Cheese, Black Pepper, Baby Wipes, and Pencil Shavings. Believe me, some of these things that you could not even imagine having flavour - Jelly Belly have managed to make them taste very real. I am yet to taste a Booger-flavoured bean (I wonder who taste-tested those ones?), but I can assure you, the rest taste very real. The Baby Wipes and Pencil Shavings flavours taste just like the "smell" of their real-life counterparts.

Anyway, how did these disgusting flavoured jellybeans equate to quality time?

Well, we ended up walking home with the adventure of discovering whether we had picked a nice jellybean, or a gross jellybean. Needless to say, a lot of the trip was spent with us doubled over, spitting jellybeans into the grass, and making horrific vomitting sounds. If nothing else, it made us laugh so hard our stomach muscles began to hurt. It was the most laughing I have done for a very long time.

So, for whatever reason you choose, or even for no reason at all except to try something different, I recommend you try the Jelly Belly Bean-Boozled jellybeans. They are good for a laugh.

When I was a little girl, and even into my teenage years, I was often told I was wise beyond my years. Not only did I have a pretty good head on my shoulders, but I was also quite passionate about the English language; which shone through in both my written and spoken expression.

While many would see this as a gift, or a talent, those closest to me became annoyed. Parents, siblings and other kids at school, all yelled at me when I corrected their poor English.

My sister always used to say "somethingk". I always told her that "something" is not spelt with a "k" on the end. My writing and spelling was always of a very high standard. I took pride in my spelling and respected the English language. Simple errors like "to" and "too", "of" and "off", "there", "their" and "they're" - all became pet hates of mine. Today, more often you see people who do not know the difference between "then" and "than". How anyone could stuff that up, I just don't know.

So anyway, the few compliments I got from teachers on my literary abilities were no match for a gruelling society. My constant corrections of others, and annoyance at their lack of effort, resulted in me being verbally and socially ostracised. My mother was probably one of the main contenders, constantly telling me that I "think too much", and snubbing her nose at me when I corrected her grammar or spelling. My sister was the same. Her spelling was quite terrible, and she used to try to hide her homework from me so that I would not correct it.

Eventually I got sick of being treated like I was some sort of terrible person, and I ended up trying really hard to "dumb myself down". It may have worked in enabling me to fit in better with people, but today it is something I regret having had to do. I still have the same respect for the English language and I hate seeing it butchered.

A little while ago I plucked up the courage to mention to someone that their entire paragraph had no punctuation whatsoever. The response I got was "this isn't an English lesson". I replied to that with, "No, but it IS meant to be English!"

I don't believe that respecting language and aiming to be a good communicator should be things someone is made to feel ashamed of. As native English speakers, we should all be doing our best to use language correctly. It is downright embarrassing seeing a foreigner, whose second or third language is English, speaking and writing English better than the native speakers!

So, no more. I am drawing the line. From now on I will speak and write perfect English, and I will not be swayed by people who do not feel comfortable with this. I am not wrong to be using the English language correctly, and it does not make me a bad person. It makes me a smart person, and hopefully, a good communicator.

It is really funny the way things happen once you have identified a certain trend; the tendence to always portray the "good", and neglect to acknowledge the bad. Just after writing yesterday's blog about the negative never being expressed, ie. always answering that you are good, even when you're not, another example of this reared it's ugly head.

I do a different Chinese lesson each week, and last week's lesson was not of a high quality, in my opinion. It was unrealistically large, and the phrases were scattered in no apparent order; seemingly no structure at all. Very messy.

Anyway, my friend Bob and I are learning together, and we pay about $7000 for the course. It turns out that Bob was just as unhappy with last week's lesson as I was, except he actually decided to mention it to the owner.

It is important to note here that every single week we go in there for our lessons, the owner and other staff members hound us constantly for feedback, asking us if we are liking it and getting along okay. This week was no different, and the owner of the business asked Bob how he was getting along with the lessons.

Bob told her that he was very disappointed with this week's lesson. In total denial, the owner then presumed to accuse the Chinese tutor of "doing something" to Bob. He corrected her, that the tutor was not the problem, that the actual lesson material was pathetic; being unnecessarily large and having no structure, and that it is not a very good way to learn.

To our total surprise, the owner pat Bob on the shoulder like a school boy who had just been teased, and responded with a sarcastic, "Aww diddums". She then turned and walked away.

So, after 14 weeks of enthusiastically seeking feedback for the course material, it seems the only feedback she was actually interested in was the type that told her everything was good. She was completely disinterested in hearing genuine feedback, that if handled correctly, could assist in the improvement of her product.

This kind of behaviour not only supports my theory of the world never wanting to hear the bad, but also supports my idea that the world is run by idiots. What sort of educated manager would treat a well-paying customer in this way? And what sort of successful business person would handle the receipt of constructive criticism from a well-paying customer in this way? Even if she does (and she obviously does) think she is right and everyone else is wrong, where has the common courtesy toward a paying customer disintegrated to?

From my studies, and from (un)common sense, I have always believed that no matter how hard it is to be told that something you have created is bad, you need to be strong and mature, and use that feedback to improve your product. Every piece of feedback counts and is important, because if one person has highlighted some problem, there is a good chance others feel the same way.

Bob and I are both very disappointed, not so much in the lesson, but in the response to the negative feedback. It was unprofessional on so many levels; the attitude, the behaviour... she would have been better pulling Bob aside and asking him to write up his thoughts on paper so that at the next lesson they could take the time to discuss it in private. But no, she decided to make a mockery of Bob in front of other staff and customers.

This resulted in a very unhappy customer, and could potentially lose the language learning company some business.

This is a really good example of how NOT to manage a business.

The mistake this manager has made with her response, is that she is forgetting that "language" itself is not a saleable product, only the particular software they use is. This means that we can learn the language free elsewhere, or at a fraction of the cost if we want to buy some software. There are choices beyond what she is offering for such a huge cost, and she is forgetting that.

We will see what the future has to hold for our relationship with this business.

I don't think I am the only one, and I don't think it is something that "just happens". I think society secretly encourages us to always portray ourselves as happy, even when we aren't.

So many people who know me, who have read my blog post regarding how dark my life often is, could not believe it was me. For so long I have always told everyone how great my life is, and how happy and lucky I am. But on the inside I am very sad.

Why do I do this? Why do I lie and tell people I am happy when I'm not? Is it pride, or shame, or both? Maybe it is society who do not allow me to respond to the "How are you?" with "Pretty damn crappy, actually"?

I have been thinking about this for some time, and trying to figure out why I do this. And believe it or not, it has taken the learning of another language to finally find this missing piece of the puzzle.

About 3 months ago I started learning to speak Chinese (Mandarin). Not surprisingly, the first few phrases that were taught were your typical greetings; hello, how are you, I'm good, I'm very good, etc. etc. And yes, you guessed it, I still haven't learnt how to say "I am really crappy".

This clear and intentional disclusion from the learning material sparked curiosity in me, and before long I realised, hey, even in English we rarely respond negatively when asked how we are. So many times I have been fighting back tears when asked by a checkout operator how I am, and I always say "Good thanks, how about you?" And they always respond with the same answer, too.

And how many times have you asked how someone is, and get really annoyed when they actually start telling you how bad their day is? Why do we bother asking how people are if we really couldn't give a rat's ass if they are doing badly?

Apparently it is impolite not to ask, but isn't it more impolite to lie? And to think, we actually verge on considering it rude when people are honest about how they are!

To be honest, I've really had such a crappy day today, and I really want to tell the next person who asks me how I am that I am really shit. I have had a bad day. I am stressed. I am depressed. I have shed a few tears. I really want to cry.

But do you think I will? I doubt it. I will just grit my teeth together, smile, and tell them I am great. Then I will show just how polite I am by asking them how they are, even though I am so depressed I couldn't give a shit if the world was caving in. And then they will tell me they are great. And I will sit and wonder whether they really are great, or if they are lying like me.

I've often sat and envied all my friends who all seem to be so happy. Thinking to myself; if only you knew what my life was really like. But then I wonder; what if they are lying about their lives as well? Is it a common thing to convince the world around you that you are happier than you are?

But it's not really the kind of question you ask someone, is it?

Today was a scary day.

Recently, okay a few months ago, I embarked on a mission to get all my teeth fixed up and get myself a celebrity smile. This mission was a hard one to start due to my dentist phobia, largely inflated by the not-so-gentle dental I visited last.

I informed my new dentist of this phobia, and I must say he has always done his very best to make sure I was comfortable and in no pain. That often meant I ended up with a fat, useless mouth for hours into the night, but I could handle that.

After months of treatment, all my holes are filled, and I am now at the stage of getting them cleaned. I have never had my teeth professionally cleaned by a dentist (oops - sorry, she is a hygienist) before, and I confess I was, and still am, very nervous about it.

You might ask, it's only a clean, why be scared? Well, there are two main reasons for my sudden fear. The first reason is that my great friend Bob, has had his teeth cleaned before and told me all about the procedure (including his bad experiences). Bob then continued to refer to my trip to the dental hygienist as my trip to the "butcher". Knowing full well that Bob likes to stir me up, I took his ramblings with a pinch of salt.

So I got to the dental surgery today at about 13:50, ready for my 14:00 appointment. The clock ticked on, well past my appointment time. If this wasn't enough to let the nerves stir, it became clear that the hygienist I was about to see, still had a patient. It was probably at about 14:15 when the agonised moans started to be heard. Those moans varied in volume and enhanced in frequency. Before long the moans were almost screams. The hygienist sought the assistance of other dental staff, including calling the receptionist in, to help hold her patient down.

Oh dear, I was so tempted to get up and silently sneak out the door and run home!

But I stayed.

Eventually (almost an hour later) the woman came out, red faced and watery eyed. I felt her pain.

The hygienist called me in. I informed her of my nerves, and how they had been inflated by my friend referring to her as the "butcher", and the "sound-effects" I had been listening to for the past hour from her surgery. She chuckled a little and informed me that she is not a butcher and that she rarely likes to hurt anyone, and that the poor lady before me was a very extreme case, and very rare.

I laid back in the chair - I won't go into all the gruesome details, needless to say there was a lot of blood. She took it easy on me, even though it did hurt - but mainly because of sensitive teeth. She told me she would do the clean over two appointments because of how sensitive my teeth were. She said that a month in between would give my teeth and gums time to heal up before she went back in for the final hack, I mean clean.

She also told me my gums will bleed for the next couple of days, but that that is a good sign, because it means my gums are healing.

My teeth have been a bit sore since, and I have a bit of a headache, but I am booked in for another appointment in November. Soon my teeth and gums will be so healthy I won't need to worry about the dentist anymore.

Wish me luck. Now I'm going to head off to bed - but I will be brushing my teeth first!

Ok, so it's been a bit gloomy to date, so I thought I might let you in on a brighter side of me. To release some tension and have a little fun, I like to play a sport called Netball. For those who don't know what Netball is, it's a bit like basketball, except the different positions must stay within certain areas of the court, and once you have the ball, you cannot take another step. Check this Youtube clip for a visual demonstration of Netball.

I started playing Netball for the first time this year, and the high impact of the sport has been a lot for my body to get used to. Since the end of last season, where my team made the Grand Final, I have had a bruised toe nail. It has been over a month.

Two nights ago I played my first game for the season, and when I got home I realised that the same bruised toe was a little sore. That night, I was awoken at about midnight in absolute agony. My bruised toe was throbbing, and the pain was so bad I was unable to get back to sleep for hours.

At about 4am the pain started to subside a little. It still hurt, but I was able to get back to sleep.

When I awoke the next day, I looked at my toe and found that the bruise that had been there for over a month had gone! Even though the toe was hurting worse than ever!

I have heard of freak accidents reversing current injuries - like parachuting accidents curing blindless, etc. but I must say I am very surprised that with this new injury, my old bruise has completely gone!

On a sad note, we did lose the game,... by a lot... but, it was still a fun and friendly game.

Since writing last, a friend of mine has given me some advice. I don't really have many friends, as I generally don't let people get very close to me, but I guess this person is the closest thing I have ever had to a real friend.

This friend, we'll call him "Bob", said to me that he has noticed me seeming a little overwhelmed, and consequently a little flat, as of late.

I thought about my grey clouds and how the sun doesn't seem to be shining through anymore, and I said, "Yeah, you could say that."

Bob knows that I have taken on a lot of committments in order to improve my paper appearance, and he believes that while these extra tasks are achievable, that I have let myself become overwhelmed by it, and thus they seem to be defeating me.

Bob believes that in similar fashion to eating an orange, I cannot expect to consume that orange whole, I must break it apart into pieces, making it easer to eat.

So Bob has suggested to me that I do not look at all my tasks from afar, but rather break the big tasks into smaller tasks, making it a lot less daunting, and a lot more manageable.

So in essence, I must not sit back and wait for the clouds to part and the sun to resume shining, I must manually part those clouds by chopping my workload into little orange pieces.

The whole idea sounds very logical to me, but putting it into practice will be the ultimate test.

Wish me luck.

As a kid, I was surrounded by people I didn't understand, and they didn't understand me either. I didn't like life growing up like that, but told myself that things wouldn't be like that forever. One day I would be an adult and be in control of my own life. In a life shrouded in a neverending blanket of grey clouds, I could still manage to see the occasional ray of sunshine break its way through.

Now, as an adult, those clouds are still there. But instead, as I get older, the frequency of the ray of sunshine breaking through is becoming less and less. The clouds seem to be getting thicker and darker, and moving in on me. I have no more control, but a lot less hope.

I always thought that having a brain would mean you would be OK in this world, but it is becoming more apparent that this world is being run by idiots. Don't get me wrong, I may not agree with many politicians, but I do respect the hard work they have done to get where they have. And I know they are very smart. I am talking about the people on the ground - the business owners and managers. Just like you don't need a licence or any training to be a parent, even though it is one of the most important jobs in the world, neither it seems do managers.

I have studied management and good workplace practices, and yet here I am being judged by off-the-street managers. Most of whom show clear signs of having no formal management training. So how can an educated person penetrate an uneducated industry, when most of these uneducated managers despise and reject a university education? It's like they gather together and say, "We gotta show these university fools".

Don't get me wrong, I'm not the hugest fan of the tertiary education system, but it is hard work to complete a degree, and you DO learn a great deal throughout that time. And if nothing else, a tertiary education at least says some things about a person: motivated, dedicated, willing and able to learn, ambitious, the list goes on.

So even after all the hard work to increase my paper appearance, it seems I am in even more of a pickle than what I used to be. I might have only been able to get dead-end jobs back then, but at least I was bringing home an income. Now, I have nothing, even though I am fighting harder than I ever have before.

The pressure on every aspect of my life is building, and as I said before, that little ray of sunshine that shines through the clouds occasionally is fading. Ray of sunshine, ray of hope, my friend, where are you? I haven't seen you for so long.

I used to fight my way through a painful life, keeping my mind set on that ray of hope. But now, as that hope fades, I don't know what to fight for anymore. I don't know where to aim.

Life seems to be getting darker and darker by the day. I used to be scared of death, but not anymore. Now it just seems like something that will happen to put an end to all this seemingly endless fighting. Maybe that is slowly becoming my new ray of sunshine?

Hi all, I'm Oz Angel, and I'm going to be one of the regular bloggers here at Essential Madness. So, a little about me... I'm a regular Aussie girl. I'm not anyone special, just your typical Aussie battler. I probably won't be writing about saucy material like Queen Bee, but I'm hoping the ordinary struggles of a positive Aussie girl will interest at least some of you.

With the global economic crisis, the ability for the ordinary Australian has become a lot more difficult than what we have been used to in the past. I am no different, I have felt the pinch. My partner earns a modest wage, although splitting that between two is spreading the butter quite thin. We are surviving. I'm not the kind of person who likes to struggle, though. I want to get back into that comfort zone. You only live once, and while I can appreciate the experience of struggling as something to learn from, I don't want to live my whole life like that. Is that really too much to want?

So anyway, I have embarked on a journey to make myself a lot more employable; taking on a university degree and two other certified courses. Will this be enough? So far it hasn't. Sometimes I feel like all the effort is for nothing. I feel betayed by my country. On the one hand they fight for my vote... convincing me that they will make things better for me, but on the other hand my country cannot even employ me. I don't consider myself a dumb person. My friends seem to regard me as an intelligent person. So why can't my country see that in me? Is there anything else I can do?

Wow, sorry about this, I guess this is quite a boring introduction. Hopefully my blogs will document an eventual happy ending. Fingers crossed.

Talk again soon happy people.