Tegan Higginbotham

Last week the lovely people from Fanfiction asked me to be a part of their Harry Potter themed opening show and I was thrilled!

Nice people+Harry Potter jokes = Tegan Happy times.

Initially I attempted to write a piece all about Cho Chang and her life after Hogwarts, but this ended up happening instead. It’s called “The Reunion” and after having the pleasure of reading it out at both Fanfiction and The Shelf, I’ve decided to put it to rest here.

Enjoy x

The Reunion- By Tegan Higginbotham

It was 2am in the morning in London, and in a small room down a dark street there sat a man clutching his face in his hands. A man who by all accounts had done nothing worth writing about for the past 20 years. In fact, 19 of them were so boring if I were a writer myself I’d have be inclined to skip over them entirely. Even if that not what any of my fans wanted. Even if it made them feel sad, and cheated and angry after they’d invested so much time into my stories. I still would have done it.

Silent and alone sat the man formally known as “The Boy Who Lived”

On the surface, the death of Lord Voldemort had seemed like a godsend for many. But with 56% of the wizarding community’s employment stemming from the containment, study or destruction of the Dark Arts, jobless rates had shy-rocketed. And for those few students who instead of studying during their final years at Hogwarts had dedicated their time to Dumbledore’s Army, they’d found themselves having to seek fortune in less than conventional ways.

Dean Thomas was broke after spending several years trying to introduce soccer to the magical community. Cho Change wrote a controversial tell-all story about Harry Potter and their brief love affair titled “Cho Chang is Wet”. And Colin Creevy found himself doing time in Azkaban after his enthusiasm for taking photos of students landed him in trouble.

Worst of all was Katie Bell, who earned her living at the only known wizarding strip bar “The Sordid Wand”, where she entertained guests by fitting an entire Basilisk up her.

And then, there was Harry. Once the Ministry of Magic had officially decommissioned it’s last Auror, Harry has resigned himself to a life of public appearances and inspirational speeches. But the boredom was crippling him, and he was finding it hard to breathe.

Soon light began to creep into to the tiny room.  Ginny startled Harry. Mostly because he hadn’t heard her come in but also because of her face.

“We’d better get ready for the DA reunion”, she said. “I can’t believe it’s been 20 years”.

“I can”, said Harry.

He packed his bags, grabbed his wand, and reminded Ginny to put on a little more make up. He turned and looked at his home one last time. Harry knew he was never going to return.

The 20 year reunion of Dumbledore’s Army was being held in the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade, which had been purchased and renovated by Seamus Finnegan before he accidentally exploded himself and 14 children whilst trying to play fetch with a puppy.  It was a thoroughly surprising accident.

The room was alive with greetings. Present was Neville, Luna and Susan Bones who’d most certainly taken after her father. Not only because she now worked for the Ministry of Magic, but also because she had early onset menopause and had grown a beard. Parvati and Padma Patil had accidentally splinched themselves together after a poor attempt at apparition so now lived as conjoined twins. And George Weasley was also present. Since the death of his brother, George had dedicated his life to trying to clone himself. But so far he’d only managed the make 14 Sigourney Weavers and a half alien half human.

Harry embraced his friend Ron closely. Genuinely happy to see him again.

“Have you seen Hermione?”, Harry asked.

“Not for a few weeks”, said Ron.

Once Ron and Hermione’s kids had started their time at Hogwarts, they’d felt little need to continue their crumbling relationship. Not to mention the fact that as soon as Hermione left high school she cut her hair and became ridiculously hot. Even straight people like me considered going there. And she realised she could do much better than Ron.

By this stage, the entire room was full. And Harry felt alive for the first time in years.

“Welcome, my friends”, he said.

“I’m so glad you could all make it. I understand that since the battle of Hogwarts, many of our lives haven’t quite turned out as we’d hoped. In fact, since we ended the reign of Dark Magic and welcomed peacetime into our world, it has slowly been falling apart.”

And Harry was right. Without anything to fight for, the magical community had soon begun losing it’s identity. The first McMagicDonals had opened two years prior. And since Steve Jobs had faked his own death and started practicing magic, iParchments were now replacing books 20-1.

Harry had the full attention of the room.

“I have been questioning my actions for many years, and I genuinely believe I may have made a mistake.

There cannot be light, without darkness. There cannot be joy without pain. And our ways will not survive, without the balance that black magic creates.”

“Harry”, said Hermione, looking flustered for no particular reason.  “What are trying to say?”

“Yes Harry, what?”, asked Cho, who was crying.

“It’s time for the boy who lived… to start living again”

Harry rolled back his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of a snake protruding from the mouth of a sunken skull. He pressed his wand to it and the room was suddenly dark.

“This is only time I will ask you”, said Harry. “Are you with me, or are you against me?”

“Have you gone bleeding crazy?”, yelled Ron

“Lovely Jubly”, added Jamie Oliver.

“No, I haven’t gone crazy. In fact, I am seeing thing clearly for the first time in my life. Join me now, or there will be a dark mark floating above every single one of your homes by the time the week is out.”

Neville Longbottom, stepped forward.  And without breaking eye contact with Potter uttered two words under his breath… “It Begins”.

From that moment onwards, Dumbledore’s Army reignited under it’s new leader, Nevil Longbottom, as they fought to end the reign of the man formally known as “Harry Potter” but now known as “Lord RaterThyPro”- Good at killing, bad at anagrams.

The end.

Fanfiction will be playing every Saturday, Sunday and Monday of the Comedy Festival and I highly recommend you go see this joyful and hilarious show. For more info, go here: http://www.comedyfestival.com.au/2013/season/shows/fanfiction-comedy

Or keep a listen out for Justin Hamilton’s next ‘Can Yo Take This Photo Please” Podcast where he interviews two of the Fanfiction stars.

It’s 7.15am. Nami Clarke is in her kitchen covered in a mixture of vomit, apple puree and non-toxic paint. No, she hasn’t been on some obscure all-night hyper-coloured fruit bender.  This is just another run-of-the-mill morning for Nami, who three years ago made the terrifying decision to become a mum. Yep, she made people. Small ones. Ones that not only need help feeding, bathing and clothing themselves, but don’t even know how to make a set-top box work. Crazy, right?

As a 24 year old, single onlooker, I find the entire thing baffling.  But Nami not only manages to make all of this work whilst still jugging the responsibilities of her two growing businesses, she also seems to be happy. Really happy.

And with Mother’s Day just over a month away (I know, I know! Christmas was only yesterday, haven’t even gotten through Easter, blah blah blah), one can’t help but think about what it must be like to be a Mum in Australia. 

Personally, I’m still on the fence when it comes to having kids. It’s only in the past couple of years I’ve mustered up the courage to wear tight fitting clothes and I think I’d like to explore that for a bit longer.

However my time working alongside Nami has been valuable, not only in the sense that I can now completely confirm that the stork does not exist. But I’ve also witnessed a much more accurate depiction of what it means to be a mother and trust me, those Huggies ads are NOT it.

After the birth of her first child, Mannus, Nami suffered from postnatal depression, a condition that affects more than 15% of childbearing women in Australia. So unlike Fanny in “Robin Hood – Prince Of Thieves” who has a baby, instantly bonds then two seconds later is off fighting battles with Kevin Costner, the realities of child birth are sometimes a little different. 

In fact, Nami experienced her first ever Mother’s Day just 8 weeks after Mannus’s birth and instead of sitting around eating Roses Chocolates in a brand new pair of Peter Alexander Jammies, she was slumped on the couch endlessly crying or, for a short while, in the bathroom where she decided to shave off all of her hair. Yep, Nami did a Britney.

Nami was fortunate, not only because she has the kind of bone structure that can make a pixie cut look good, but also because she found a GP who could assist her with a mental healthcare plan. Nami was also supported by her friends and family, who took the time to understand her situation. But for some others in Australia, this isn’t the case. And with the stigmas of postnatal depression still circulating throughout the media and the general population, some people can be left feeling judged, isolated and guilty.

Nami has made it her personal goal to help fight these stigmas, and increase awareness amongst the community about postnatal depression, so that anyone struggling with it can feel assured that they haven’t done anything wrong and that they’re not alone. 

Skip ahead to Mother’s Day number two, and Nami had just enjoyed a jaunt in the country-side on a ‘baby-moon’, before the arrival of her second child in just 7 weeks’ time.  Then during what was meant to be a routine ultrasound at 33 weeks, Nami was told by Doctors that her baby girl had Autosomal Recessive Polycystic Kidney Disease, a rare and life threatening genetic condition.

What followed on from this were the hardest weeks of Nami’s life, as she didn’t know if she’d ever get to take her baby home and the doctors didn’t know if Dulcie would survive labor.

Thankfully, I can now tell you all that little Dulcie did survive. I know this because I few weeks ago I got to look after her for a while and she decided my chin would make for a perfect chew-toy. Fabulous.

As I finish writing this piece, it’s just ticked over to 10.30am. Nami has dropped the kids off at daycare, seen 2 clients and is getting ready for her 3-hourly “breast-pump” session (I won’t even go into this, but it frightens me on a deep, deep level). As soon as she leaves work she’ll be busy until midnight taking care of the kids and finishing off any extra work that might have popped up. If she’s lucky, she might get 5 hours of unbroken sleep.

Horrible, right? Yet for some reason unbeknownst to me, Nami thinks this is all worth it. And this Mother’s Day, instead of demanding a Victoria Cross of Australia for self-sacrifice in the face of the enemy (or baby, depending on what you want to call it), Nami will be appreciating her to kids and celebrating the mere fact that they’re alive.

C.r.a.z.y.

So in honor of my wonderful colleague, this year I implore everyone not to get wrapped up in the pastel colored, Hallmark driven hype of Mother’s Day, but instead simply to recognise the genuine effort women put into raising us shmucks. The physical and mental toll can be outrageously high and the recognition only minor. So by all means, go get your Mum some Jammies. Throw in some chockies as well. But don’t forget to thank her, ACTUALLY thank her. Because through the incredible stresses that child-raising can be, she definitely still found time to love you.

Here’s Nami, Mannus, Dulcie and Andy.

Ingredients:

1 Punnet of Strawberries

1 Packet of Butterscotch Biscuits (Chocolate biscuits also acceptable)

200g Dairy Milk Chocolate (150g for Nipples, 50g for snacking on whilst cooking)

100’s & 1000’s optional

• Begin by melting your chocolate in a bowl over a pan of simmering water. Try and avoid any steam touching the chocolate as it melts or it makes it all lumpy and crap.

• Wash and dry your strawberries and cut them to size (remember you are trying to create a nipple, not an entire boob)

• Attach strawberries to Butterscotch biscuits with small dollop of melted chocolate.

• When the chocolate has securely fastened the strawberry to the biscuit, you can now cover the whole nipple in chocolate.

• At this point, you can decide whether you’d prefer your nipples decorated or not. Personally, I always like them with a little something special on top.

• Finally, allow nipples to harden in the fridge, freezer, or whilst watching something with Tom Hardy in it. Then TA-DA! A yummy treat fit for a Queen (Or Duchess, as it were)

The last time I was in hospital I struggled to make a good impression. According to reports, whilst in a morphine-induced state I spent much of the night singing “I love Aeroplane Jelly” to myself before declaring that “This room smells like Old”. I woke up in the morning groggy, confused and as it turns out…in the geriatrics ward.

But when it comes to illnesses and injuries, I’m the sort of patient that doctors usually hate anyway, because 2 hours after surgery I’ll be signing myself up for a “Pump” class or playing Frisbee out front of the Hospital. Case in point, I commenced training for a boxing competition last year a mere 3 weeks after fracturing my foot…5 weeks before I was supposed to be off crutches.  And I set back my recovery after having appendicitis by about a month because around 10 days after surgery I thought hiking was a good idea.

Perhaps it’s that as a slightly reluctant member of the ‘Y” generation, I get scared by stillness. Visions of massive women from the numerous “Oh No I’m 500 Pounds And Going To Die”, TV shows that I’ve been subjected to flash into my mind and I wonder if one day that will be me.  Then there’s the stereotype that Gen-Y is the sitting, gaming, going-to-die-before-our-parents generation. Is that really my fate?

I’m not a fitness nut…by far!  In fact, the biggest achievement I’ve ever made fitness wise was training up for my first boxing match last year, and I only managed that because people yelled at me if I didn’t show up and there was a very real prospect I could get killed if I didn’t train hard enough. Perhaps if this philosophy were dragged into other styles of exercise, I’d flourish.

For Example:

DEATH Yoga: “Find your inner calm or we BREAK YOUR FREEKING ARM!”

Water Aerobics X: “Can you keep your head above the water?”

Jogging Club-Counter Strike Edition: “One of the joggers has a gun…Are you fast enough to outrun them?”

But that being said, I generally try to stay as on top of things as much as possible. I don’t drink much, never eat fast food and I am thoroughly aware that I am going to have to stop my 2 pack a week habit sometime soon- especially if the price of Tim Tams keeps rising the way they are! And I try to move as much as possible, because whenever I have to be still for a long period of time I…Go…CRAZY

However all of that came crashing down when last week I got sick. Properly sick. I couldn’t walk more than a few meters without feeling dizzy and light all of a sudden hurt. And who, might I ask, ever thought stairs were a good idea? Especially if food is at the top of them, I’m at the bottom and no one is able to make the journey in between.

I couldn’t remember being this sick in a long time…since Primary School really. But then again I faked so many sickies at that age I have trouble remembering what was genuine and what was me just pretending that my stomach had exploded overnight (conveniently right before Swim Day).

As per usual, I tried to ignore my symptoms and carry on as usual. I wrote a list of how much I’d like to write for the day and promised the dog I’d take her for a walk. But after jotting down one teeny weeny Kyle Sandilands joke, I was exhausted. And trust me, taking the piss out of Kyle Sandilands is NEVER that tiring.

So over the next two days it was nothing but me and my thoughts (And the occasional chapter from Brendan Fevola’s autobiography, but I’ll explain that another time). These thoughts included such gems as:

• 1)    You know how every slang expression generally originates from something true? Well I couldn’t help but ponder the term “shitfaced”; meaning drunk. Who were these people that so often ended up with feces on their faces after having a few drinks that the people soon began to attribute alcohol with being covered in poo? Why were they putting poo on their faces in the first place? Was it their own poo or another person/animal’s who just happened to be passing by? And what was so good about having shit on their faces that it kept them repeating the habit? Curious.

• 2)    I like wearing guy’s clothes. Not only are they more comfortable, but some days it just feels a little more “me” to be in something baggy and masculine looking. Does this mean I’m a cross dresser? Or is cross dressing a term that is only applied to guys who like dressing as ladies? If that is the case, I don’t think guys should be labeled differently for something I do regularly and WHY CANT WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

• 3)    I genuinely feel sorry for original Tim Tams.  Because lets face it, now that Double-Choc Tim Tams have been invented original Tim Tams are nothing but a let down. Maybe this is where the “shitfaced” thing started? Too many people got drunk and realized that they were the human equivalent of the original Tim Tam- good but no ones favorite- so tried to fix the problem by smearing their faces with another layer of chocolate?

So as you can see, I shouldn’t be left alone and without entertainment for long periods of time my head turns to mush.

Fortunately, I was back to full health by the following Monday and am now exceptionally busy/less cray cray as I prepare for some really cool upcoming gigs.  But to save me from having to talk about them, this week I’ve employed the help of crooner Michael Bublé to give you the gig list. Take it away, Mike!

Michael Bublé: On the 19^th of September, Tegan will be doing a gig to help celebrate The Melbourne Zoo’s 150^th Birthday. Other comics at he gig include Red Simon, Dave Thornton and Rusty from Scared Weird Little Guys! The gig is at BMW Edge and will be shown live on the Big Screen at Fed Square. More details below.

Tegan: Thanks M-Dawg. Anything else?

Michael Bublé: The Melbourne Fringe kicks off at the end of next week. To get tickets to Tegan’s award nominated show, Million Dollar Tegan visit http://www.melbournefringe.com.au/fringe-festival/show/tegan-higginbotham-in-million-dollar-tegan/

Tegan: See you next time, Michael.