Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Don't You Remember You Told Me You Loved Me Baby

Well, I am all moved and settled in a Bestie P's for a few weeks of luxury (foxtel, broadband, central heating, a 4WD and a piano... what more could a girl ask for?) so I'm loving life.

The poetry shows are going brilliantly, although I still have to pinch myself sometimes - I can't believe I get paid 4x an hour more than my old job just to go and share the joys of poetry with a bunch of school kids. It seems insane. I'm not complaining though - I can now say with all certainty that I LOVE my job. I haven't been able to say that for years and years and years... except on the odd occasions when I was performing in shows and let's face it, most of them were co-oops, which hardly count as regular, paid employment!

I signed all the paperwork last week to finally dismiss with Casa Erko once and for all. I'm so relieved that its all over... I didn't realise how much my depressed, negative flatmate was getting me down until I didn't have to deal with her anymore. I'm hoping that I won't have to ever do the flatshare thing again... when I come back from o/s I'm hoping I'll be able to afford to live on my own (even if its a teeny tiny studio, I don't care!). That's of course if I decide to stay in Sydney. I am thinking that it might be time for a change of cities. I've been here in Sydney for ten years now and my feet are itchier than a pox patient perched in a patch of poison ivy.

Try saying that three times quickly.

So I'm here at job #2 (which I can't say I love but it beats working at the Toxic Workplace of Doom) waiting for the general public to arrive. They're no better here than they were at TWOD but at least my shift is shorter and I earn a higher hourly rate (especially on Sundays!). And there's internet access and nice co-workers and more than one piece of eye candy to keep me amused. One in particular who brings joy to an otherwise very dull shift. We like him. A lot.

Tomorrow I have four shows at a school out in woop-woop (Orchard Hills - hands up if you've heard of it. No, me neither). The first show is at 8.30am, which means leaving home at around 7am to get there for 8am. 7am! Yoiks. I normally don't get up until at least 7.30am. The second show is at 9.30am and then the third show is not until 1.30pm, so we will have over 2 hours to kill in woop woop. I don't think there's even a shopping mall. And to add insult to injury the final show is at 2.30, which means it won't finish until 3.30pm, which means we'll get stuck in rush hour coming back. Ahhhhhhhh. I will certainly be earning my moula tomorrow. Oh well. I still love my job.

Then on Thursday we have just one show at my favourite school - a Catholic school in the Eastern Suburbs. The reason its my favourite school is because they have the most awesome teacher who shares a surname with the artists responsible for today's blog title. He's seriously cool. He looks like an ex-military colonel (tall, very fit, with a shaved head) and could probably kill you with one hand. But that's not why he's my favourite. He is the most funny, sarcastic, witty and cutting teacher you could ever hope to have in charge of a bunch of naughty school boys. He's totally hard core (clips kids over the ear if they misbehave) and at first we were a bit scared of him. Then in the last show we did he was the only person to answer the question "Through The Looking Glass is the sequel to which book by Lewis Carroll?"* and our respect for him soared. I can't wait to see him again.

Friday is our last show for about 3 weeks (school holidays - yay!) so I will have a bit of time to organise my holiday and work out where I'm going when. I also might have a little bit more time for blogging! I'm dying to write a post on the new series of Doctor Who which I have been watching (yay for friends who download as soon as the show is aired in the UK!)... its brilliant.

Happy Tuesday!


* Alice in Wonderland. I hope you all answered that question correctly. We've had some astonishing answers from some very ignorant school kids. I do wonder sometimes what their parents read to them as kids.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Time to Move...

Well, all my stuff is pretty much packed (apart from the computer and a couple of bits and pieces) and I spent most of today cleaning the kitchen (I swear the oven is cleaner than when we moved in).

All I have to wait for now is Flatmate B to get her arse in gear and finish packing and start to clean her share. Flatmate A (the painful one) has been surprisingly efficient and thorough. Pity she hasn't been that way for the last 12 months.

Removalists arrive tomorrow, carpet cleaning on Wednesday and keys handed back on Thursday. I can't wait for Friday when it will all be over.

So from tomorrow I am living at Bestie P's house, housesitting while they're in the USA. Then I head to the Irish's Slurry Hills pad for a month, then I have a brief period of homelessness (I'm hoping someone might decide to head off on a holiday from 27 July until 16 August and ask me to housesit - otherwise I'll be wearing out my welcome at Bestie P's). And on 17 August I fly to London!!


Until I get organised and settled at Bestie P's, I may be a little quiet on the blog front. But I guess y'all are used to that now. I won't make you wait too long though.

Back soon, I promise.


Friday, June 06, 2008

Woman of the Week

Lily Allen, you are one top chick.

Love the image of Bambi with the slashed jugular. Goes nicely with the pink hair.

Firstly, you do what the average person would do when celebrating something major (in your case winning a Glamour award). C'mon people. Admit it. We've all been completely bladdered at some point in our lives. Bladdered to the point of "oh dear, now my legs won't actually carry me home". Don't lie. Yes you have.

However, In Lily's case, she had a few burly bodyguards to help her out. Most of us would have relied on the "not quite as trollied friend" to help us out.

Is it just me, or does that bodyguard look like the lovechild of Jason Donovan and Phil Mitchell from EastEnders?

But what I
really love about you Lily, is that you do what most celebs wouldn't do the next day and freely admit your error instead of having your publicist try to blame it on some mystery illness.

Glass of chardy in one hand, Glamour award in the other. Stylish. Until it all goes pear-shaped.

You put it out there, on your My Space page and say " Yes, I did it. Of course I did it. But, no, I'm not proud of it and I think I ended up looking like a knob so don't try this at home kids."

And then you go for a fry up.

Top banana Lily.


Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Stay away from the shadows...

This man is genius.

"Hello, I'm Steve. I may look just like a normal bloke, but I'm actually a genius"


Not only was he the creator of that brilliant show Press Gang, but he was also responsible for Coupling (very funny series) and Jekyll (I had serious nightmares about James Nesbitt after watching that series).

He is also the writer of the episode of Doctor Who which I have just finished watching. Silence in the Library.

Most. Brilliant. Episode. Ever.

I spent the last five minutes on the edge of my seat with my mouth hanging open in shock, fear and awe.

Mr Moffat, you are a truly worthy successor of the great Russell T. Davies.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Six Weeks Sober

To coincide with my departure from TWOD (Toxic Workplace of Doom), I decided to conduct a little social experiment involving my alcohol dependency.

Not that I was really dependent as such. It was more of a habit. Have a drink or two at the bar at work before heading home, stop by the bottle shop on the way home and buy a bottle, etc etc.

I wasn't what you'd term an alcoholic, but I certainly drank more than the recommended weekly intake.

And I realised that ever since I began drinking regularly at the age of 18, I'd never gone for any considerable length of time without drinking at all.

Hence, I thought I'd give it a go.

I also wanted to see if I enjoyed the company of some of my friends when I was sober and they were not. I suspected some of them may well drive me to distraction with their level of obnoxious-ness.

My first night of experimentation was at the combined birthday bash of two lovely mates of mine who have both appeared in this show and are currently appearing in this show.

Their birthday parties are always huge and go long into the night and involve lots of things probably best not mentioned here.

Perfect place to commence the experiment. If I could remain sober and sane here then I was going to go well.

And I did. Stay sober and sane. Until about 3am, when I decided it was time for me to go home, or else one of my friends (who is what could be called a "two pot screamer") was about to be on the receiving end of a slap due to her obnoxious-ness.

Needless to say, I haven't been hanging out with her much in the past few weeks.

And there are one or two other friends whom I haven't been hanging out with much either, which leads me to believe that a relationship based on shared alcohol consumption is not a healthy relationship.

But I'm learning that you can just as much fun without getting smashed and, in fact, there are several bonuses to remaining sober. Such as:

1. Not spending ridiculous amounts of money every weekend. I'm saving a huge amount. Which I will no doubt blow on alcohol when I go to Europe in August, but that's ok.

2. Feeling healthier. So far I've lost 3kgs without reducing any of my food intake. This is very good, as my favourite jeans were just that little bit too snug for comfort.

3. Improved skin tone. Its still not completely back to its smooth self after last year's bout of rosacea, but its getting there.

And there are probably others, which I can't think of now.

But its been an interesting six weeks. Let's see how much longer I can keep it up.


Monday, June 02, 2008

F(lippin') H(opeful) (aren't you) M(ate)?

So according to this article in today's SMH, one in three Aussie men want to marry a virgin.


Good old
FHM. Telling us what we really need to know.

Bit late now for most of me and my friends who are still single. Does that mean our chances of marrying one of these (clearly) eligible young men are dashed forever because (shock, horror!) we've engaged in pre-marital sex?

Gosh. Get me to a nunnery.

Funny how you never see these articles in women's magazines. I wonder how many Aussie women would prefer to marry a man who's a virgin?

I'd like to see that statistic.

On one hand, it might be nice to get a bloke who doesn't know what he's doing and train him up, so to speak.

On the other hand, isn't it better to have someone who's gone through all that fumbling, awkward, no-idea-what-he's-doing stage and is confident in their level of ability?

I really don't know what this reveals about the male population of this nation, other than that one third of FHM readers really are best avoided by the female population.

Anyway. As you were.