Well I do, obviamente, otherwise this post wouldn't be up here.
But I seem to lack inspiration on Fridays. I never know what to write about.
Especially now footy season is over. I'm at a bit of a loss really. I mean I have a whole day free tomorrow with nothing planned. No game(s) to watch. Nothing organised until my boy* arrives in the early evening.
Maybe a trip to the library in the morning may be in order. Any recommendations? Last book I read was Night Train. It was a bit weird but quite intriguing. I don't mind a good crime thriller.
Or perhaps I should use the free time productively... finish cleaning out the boxes under the bed, learn a monologue for an audition I have on Tuesday and learn the lines for the casting I have on Thursday. Hang on. That one's for a TVC and there are no lines. I just have to schlep about with a cup of coffee pretending to be a homeowner whilst smiling benignly at various tradespeople.
Yeah. Put those 3 years of training to good use.
Hey they're playing Faker on commercial radio. Next they'll be showing them on Video Hits. And maybe if I wake up before noon on a Sunday I might be able to see myself in their last video channelling Britney's air hostess turn in Toxic. Sweet.
One day I might get an acting job that challenges me. Right now they seem to only be coming along once a year. Just like Christmas. Only not as well paid.
Anyway... the long weekend has started and somewhere in the Zanzibar there is a cocktail with my name on it. Love those lovely friends who organise their farewell to Sydders bashes a mere stroll from Chez Magical.
Sorry about the lack of inspired blogging today. My only hope is that at least something I said made you smile. Or giggle. Or groan. Any reaction would be good... I'm not that fussy.
xo
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* He's short, chubby, with not much hair, not many teeth and runs round say "oh no" and "ya, yup, ya" a lot and has a really funny dirty old man chuckle. He's also 23 months old and my Clayton's** nephew***.
** Claytons... if you don't remember the TVC don't worry about not getting the reference.
*** His parents are good mates of mine and one day when he speaks real words they've decided he will call me Auntie.
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Toiley
Help! I am surrounded by tiny fairies.
400 of the little midgets. Well, probably only 250-300 of the little midgets and 100 - 150 of their parents/guardians/poor schleps that work in childcare centres.
Its school holidays and there's a kiddies show about fairies on. Thankfully my company isn't putting the show on so I don't have to interact with any of the stressed out adults & ADHD medicated midgets.
In theory.
The box office where I work is in an old cloakroom, which is smack-bang in the centre of the passage leading to the toilets. All those midgets in their fairy wings have to go past me to use the toilet.
Or "toileys" as I heard one mother just call it.
What happens to people's language skills when they're talking to small children? Why must a 'toilet' become a 'toiley'?
And why must small children attempt to un-nerve me by standing mutely in front of me and staring with their big, round eyes whilst I attempt to do my work?
And since when did four year olds wear nail polish and lipstick? And that's just the boys...
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.
.
.
.
Someone pass the vodka.
400 of the little midgets. Well, probably only 250-300 of the little midgets and 100 - 150 of their parents/guardians/poor schleps that work in childcare centres.
Its school holidays and there's a kiddies show about fairies on. Thankfully my company isn't putting the show on so I don't have to interact with any of the stressed out adults & ADHD medicated midgets.
In theory.
The box office where I work is in an old cloakroom, which is smack-bang in the centre of the passage leading to the toilets. All those midgets in their fairy wings have to go past me to use the toilet.
Or "toileys" as I heard one mother just call it.
What happens to people's language skills when they're talking to small children? Why must a 'toilet' become a 'toiley'?
And why must small children attempt to un-nerve me by standing mutely in front of me and staring with their big, round eyes whilst I attempt to do my work?
And since when did four year olds wear nail polish and lipstick? And that's just the boys...
.
.
.
.
.
Someone pass the vodka.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Bob'n'Bluth
My week is off to a good start and its only Tuesday!
And a part of that good start has to do with these two men:
The Biggest Loser is back on Monday nights. I got addicted last time... to Trainer Bob. He is HOT. I love a guy with a six pack and forearm tatts who can do 20 push ups with a 150kg fatty on his back. If he was my trainer I would be flab-free in no time. Although I suspect I'd probably just want to sit back and watch him doing push ups...
I'm slightly disappointed there's no Mo this time around, but I'm hoping at least one of the contestants will be one of those great Mo-style philosophers and come up with a line to beat Mo's classic "I'm a rib-eye kinda guy myself" comment. That guy cracked me up.
Returning to our screens tonight, we have the highly under-rated former child star Jason Bateman in Arrested Development. I love that he still looks every bit as cute as he did on Silver Spoons (I always preferred him to Ricky Schroder). I love that he still has a full head of hair. I love that he finally won an Emmy last year. He should have won it this year, but they decided to give it to that creepy guy from Monk.
But I hate that Channel Seven will only screen this show on late night TV where it has very little chance of finding a decent audience. Whichever wanky suit at Seven made this decision should be lynched. This truly is one of the best comedies ever made and definitely a rare thing from the Americans. Great writing, great acting, quirky storylines, interesting doco-style camera techniques, no laugh track and best of all, its narrated by Richie Cunningham himself. What the hell is it doing in an 11.30pm timeslot?
Meanwhile, Seven chooses to serve up drivel such as Beyond Tomorrow and Dancing with the "Stars" (aka Dancing with the C-listers) in the earlier timeslots and pass it off as 'Australian content'. Seven don't deserve to have the rights to Arrested Development. They also don't deserve the rights to Scrubs - another quality comedy - but that's a whole other blog.
If only our ABC was funded decently, they might have been able to grab Arrested Development and put it in a decent timeslot, like they did for Little Britain and Black Books.
If only our ABC was funded properly we too may have fantastic initiatives like this one they have at the BBC.
If only my childhood dream of marrying Jason Bateman was achievable.
And if only Trainer Bob was my trainer.
I'll stop now before it gets weird.
And a part of that good start has to do with these two men:
The Biggest Loser is back on Monday nights. I got addicted last time... to Trainer Bob. He is HOT. I love a guy with a six pack and forearm tatts who can do 20 push ups with a 150kg fatty on his back. If he was my trainer I would be flab-free in no time. Although I suspect I'd probably just want to sit back and watch him doing push ups...
I'm slightly disappointed there's no Mo this time around, but I'm hoping at least one of the contestants will be one of those great Mo-style philosophers and come up with a line to beat Mo's classic "I'm a rib-eye kinda guy myself" comment. That guy cracked me up.
Returning to our screens tonight, we have the highly under-rated former child star Jason Bateman in Arrested Development. I love that he still looks every bit as cute as he did on Silver Spoons (I always preferred him to Ricky Schroder). I love that he still has a full head of hair. I love that he finally won an Emmy last year. He should have won it this year, but they decided to give it to that creepy guy from Monk.
But I hate that Channel Seven will only screen this show on late night TV where it has very little chance of finding a decent audience. Whichever wanky suit at Seven made this decision should be lynched. This truly is one of the best comedies ever made and definitely a rare thing from the Americans. Great writing, great acting, quirky storylines, interesting doco-style camera techniques, no laugh track and best of all, its narrated by Richie Cunningham himself. What the hell is it doing in an 11.30pm timeslot?
Meanwhile, Seven chooses to serve up drivel such as Beyond Tomorrow and Dancing with the "Stars" (aka Dancing with the C-listers) in the earlier timeslots and pass it off as 'Australian content'. Seven don't deserve to have the rights to Arrested Development. They also don't deserve the rights to Scrubs - another quality comedy - but that's a whole other blog.
If only our ABC was funded decently, they might have been able to grab Arrested Development and put it in a decent timeslot, like they did for Little Britain and Black Books.
If only our ABC was funded properly we too may have fantastic initiatives like this one they have at the BBC.
If only my childhood dream of marrying Jason Bateman was achievable.
And if only Trainer Bob was my trainer.
I'll stop now before it gets weird.
Monday, September 26, 2005
Take What?
On Saturday I ventured East to the Golden Sheaf Hotel in Double Pay Bay to watch the grand final with a few mates.
My goodness... what a bunch of glamorous bandwagon jumpers there are at that pub. Never seen anything like it. One very pretty girl in a teensy tiny little top and skirt had obviously jumped on that bandwagon so recently, she had the words to the Swans club song printed out on a piece of paper and tried valiantly to sing in time with the rest. Bless.
That's not to say we weren't looking pretty glam ourselves. Carmen was in her Eagles scarf and cap. Tina managed to successfully pull off the double billing of a Swans scarf and cap, plus St George t-shirt and flag (she was going to the rugby after). Rani wore her Swans cap. Not being a supporter of either team, I was in brown (my usual homage to the Hawks at this time of year). But thanks to the Benefit girls at Myer, I was looking pretty glam.
I chose to barrack for the Eagles. I even learnt their song. I already knew the Swans song, so I ended up singing both, much to the amusement of the middle-aged Freo couple sitting next to us.
What a game. I was on the edge of my seat and nearly upset my glass on several occasions. Not quite the result I'd hoped for, but hopefully the upside will be better coverage of AFL in this town from now on.
I'd like to thank the guy from Margaret River (who was standing next to our table) for providing such entertaining commentary throughout the game. He had such a funny way of yelling out "YOU'RE SOFT HALL!"... guess you had to be there though.
And Chris Judd. What heart. What commitment. I picked you for the Norm Smith about 5 minutes into the first quarter. I'm sorry to say though, that most of the glamourous crew in the Sheaf had no idea what the Norm Smith was. Shame on them.
At the end of the day, as we walked down the hallway leading out of the Sheaf, I spotted an enormous autographed photo of these boys*.
I stopped dead in my tracks and started laughing.
I wanted to steal it, as did Rani. We were seriously considering it for about 30 seconds. However it was at least as tall as me and about five times as wide, therefore I think we would have had some trouble getting it on the bus.
Shame.
It would have looked good in my living room.
* it wasn't that picture - it was a grainy b&w one. but i couldn't find a pic of that one anywhere.
My goodness... what a bunch of glamorous bandwagon jumpers there are at that pub. Never seen anything like it. One very pretty girl in a teensy tiny little top and skirt had obviously jumped on that bandwagon so recently, she had the words to the Swans club song printed out on a piece of paper and tried valiantly to sing in time with the rest. Bless.
That's not to say we weren't looking pretty glam ourselves. Carmen was in her Eagles scarf and cap. Tina managed to successfully pull off the double billing of a Swans scarf and cap, plus St George t-shirt and flag (she was going to the rugby after). Rani wore her Swans cap. Not being a supporter of either team, I was in brown (my usual homage to the Hawks at this time of year). But thanks to the Benefit girls at Myer, I was looking pretty glam.
I chose to barrack for the Eagles. I even learnt their song. I already knew the Swans song, so I ended up singing both, much to the amusement of the middle-aged Freo couple sitting next to us.
What a game. I was on the edge of my seat and nearly upset my glass on several occasions. Not quite the result I'd hoped for, but hopefully the upside will be better coverage of AFL in this town from now on.
I'd like to thank the guy from Margaret River (who was standing next to our table) for providing such entertaining commentary throughout the game. He had such a funny way of yelling out "YOU'RE SOFT HALL!"... guess you had to be there though.
And Chris Judd. What heart. What commitment. I picked you for the Norm Smith about 5 minutes into the first quarter. I'm sorry to say though, that most of the glamourous crew in the Sheaf had no idea what the Norm Smith was. Shame on them.
At the end of the day, as we walked down the hallway leading out of the Sheaf, I spotted an enormous autographed photo of these boys*.
I stopped dead in my tracks and started laughing.
I wanted to steal it, as did Rani. We were seriously considering it for about 30 seconds. However it was at least as tall as me and about five times as wide, therefore I think we would have had some trouble getting it on the bus.
Shame.
It would have looked good in my living room.
* it wasn't that picture - it was a grainy b&w one. but i couldn't find a pic of that one anywhere.
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Meme Thief
I'll come clean... I've stolen this one from Ladycracker. I just couldn't resist and since she said "This meme is free to a good home" I thought I'd take her up on it!
This is exactly the kind of thing I love. Keeps me amused for hours, thinking about it, choosing who I'd want, debating the merits of those involved, finally making a list, then re-making the list... yes I do live in magical land* most of the time.
And after much debate in my head and many a crossing off the list, I went back to my original choices. I doubt either answer will come as a surprise to those of you who know me, since I am often likened to both these women...
"So... who would you want to play yourself in your BioPic?"
First choice:
I bloody love Sandra Bullock. She's cute, funny, smart, witty, doesn't mind making a fool of herself and is pretty clumsy. Like me.
And, she's snogged some pretty hot boys. Keanu Reeves, Harry Connick Jnr, Matthew McConaghey, Dominic West, Viggo Mortensen, Aiden Quinn... unfortunately not like me, but you never know what (or who) is around the corner.
Admittedly, Sandra's film choices haven't always been great, but then I've had some dodgy roles in my career too. If I ever do become famous, I can guarantee you there will be at least one or two short films and TVCs which will turn up on one of those "Before They Were Stars" type shows.
And seriously people, what's not to love about a woman who was voted "Most Likely To Brighten Up Your Day" by her high school class and who is quoted as saying "I don't think there's ever what could be called a 'chilled state' in my head." I can see those of you that know me well chuckling at that...
"Soooo... if Sandra's not available, who will most probably play you?"
This is exactly the kind of thing I love. Keeps me amused for hours, thinking about it, choosing who I'd want, debating the merits of those involved, finally making a list, then re-making the list... yes I do live in magical land* most of the time.
And after much debate in my head and many a crossing off the list, I went back to my original choices. I doubt either answer will come as a surprise to those of you who know me, since I am often likened to both these women...
"So... who would you want to play yourself in your BioPic?"
First choice:
I bloody love Sandra Bullock. She's cute, funny, smart, witty, doesn't mind making a fool of herself and is pretty clumsy. Like me.
And, she's snogged some pretty hot boys. Keanu Reeves, Harry Connick Jnr, Matthew McConaghey, Dominic West, Viggo Mortensen, Aiden Quinn... unfortunately not like me, but you never know what (or who) is around the corner.
Admittedly, Sandra's film choices haven't always been great, but then I've had some dodgy roles in my career too. If I ever do become famous, I can guarantee you there will be at least one or two short films and TVCs which will turn up on one of those "Before They Were Stars" type shows.
And seriously people, what's not to love about a woman who was voted "Most Likely To Brighten Up Your Day" by her high school class and who is quoted as saying "I don't think there's ever what could be called a 'chilled state' in my head." I can see those of you that know me well chuckling at that...
"Soooo... if Sandra's not available, who will most probably play you?"
Bit quirky, like me. Occasionally puts her foot in her mouth, like me. Stands up for what she believes in, like me. Gave her kids odd names. I won't tell you what my (future) kids will be named, but just know that they're odd ones and involve my favourite films and food.
Rachel has also made one or two dodgy films, but all in all, she's a bloody good actress. I would love to have her role in Six Feet Under. Maybe I could turn up in future episodes as her little sister?
Anyhooo....
Oh and the 'me as a child' part of the BioPic in years past would have been played by this little pocket rocket:
Yeah I know, none of you are surprised by that one.
However, since the Punkster is all grown up now, I guess I'd have to recruit my six year old niece Zoe. She looks a lot like Punky Brewster. She definitely has the attitude. She looks cute in pink cons. And when we go places together people often mistake her for my own child. I reckon she'd make a fair crack of it too...
Now I'm passing this meme along to whoever wishes to use it, but I'm going to specifically pass the baton to Locket, RocKat and Dxxxx... especially you RocKat. Its about time you put something up on on your blog.
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xoxo
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* the land of magical_m, also known as fantasy land.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Mac's Back
Well, almost. And she's not Mac, she's Lulu!
Only 3 more sleeps until bestie Lulu returns from a very long* schools tour of NZ. We haven't been separated for this long since... since we've known each other. We've been kindred spirits since our first day together at drama school. I've been missing her terribly - as you may have noticed if you're a regular reader of this blog.
In one of our many emails to & fro today, Lulu reminded me of this little gem of a poem, which was performed in first year by one of our drama school classmates - the magnificent Andrew. Andrew was the Trigorin to my Nina. He went AWOL midway through second year, leaving me to turn our two-hander assessment scene from The Seagull into a monologue.... complete with pre-scene psychological gesturing. I was livid at the time, but in retrospect that was the turning point in my work as an actor... so Andrew will always have my eternal love and gratitude.
Anyway, this poem (which Andrew performed in voice class) was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. He clearly had a deep-seated hatred of cats** and delivered it so earnestly that the whole class was collapsed on the floor with laughter and it was all our voice teacher could do to keep a straight face and keep giving him direction. And if you knew our voice teacher you'd know how difficult that would be.
Lulu & I thought it would be fun to share this poem, so here it is. Just imagine it being spoken by a very sweet, very earnest, well spoken, tall, dark haired 20 year old boy wearing a baggy t-shirt and track pants...
Can't wait to see you on Friday precious!
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.
.
.
.
* too bloody long
** as do I
Only 3 more sleeps until bestie Lulu returns from a very long* schools tour of NZ. We haven't been separated for this long since... since we've known each other. We've been kindred spirits since our first day together at drama school. I've been missing her terribly - as you may have noticed if you're a regular reader of this blog.
In one of our many emails to & fro today, Lulu reminded me of this little gem of a poem, which was performed in first year by one of our drama school classmates - the magnificent Andrew. Andrew was the Trigorin to my Nina. He went AWOL midway through second year, leaving me to turn our two-hander assessment scene from The Seagull into a monologue.... complete with pre-scene psychological gesturing. I was livid at the time, but in retrospect that was the turning point in my work as an actor... so Andrew will always have my eternal love and gratitude.
Anyway, this poem (which Andrew performed in voice class) was one of the funniest things I'd ever seen. He clearly had a deep-seated hatred of cats** and delivered it so earnestly that the whole class was collapsed on the floor with laughter and it was all our voice teacher could do to keep a straight face and keep giving him direction. And if you knew our voice teacher you'd know how difficult that would be.
Lulu & I thought it would be fun to share this poem, so here it is. Just imagine it being spoken by a very sweet, very earnest, well spoken, tall, dark haired 20 year old boy wearing a baggy t-shirt and track pants...
There will be no more cats.
Cats spread infection,
Cats pollute the air,
Cats consume seven times their own weight in food a week,
Cats were worshipped in decadent societies (Egypt and Ancient Rome);
the Greeks had no use for cats.
Cats sit down to pee (our scientists have proved it).
The copulation of cats is harrowing;
they are unbearably fond of the moon.
Perhaps they are all right in their own country
but their traditions are alien to ours.
Cats smell, they can't help it,
you notice it going upstairs.
Cats watch too much television,
they can sleep through storms,
they stabbed us in the back last time.
There have never been any great artists who were cats.
They don't deserve a capital C
except at the beginning of a sentence.
I blame my headaches and my plants dying on cats.
Our district is full of them, property values are falling.
When I dream of God
I see a Massacre of Cats.
Why should they insist on their own language and religion,
who needs to purr to make his point?
Death to all cats!
The Rule of Dogs shall last a thousand years!
Can't wait to see you on Friday precious!
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* too bloody long
** as do I
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Cheer, Cheer Bandwagon Jumpers
I'm not talking sweaters here... I'm talking about those annoying Sydney-ites who up until 10pm last night couldn't have given a flying monkeys about AFL, yet have all of a sudden jumped on the Swans bandwagon and are walking the streets singing "Cheer, cheer the red & the white".
Johnny-come-lately's the lot of them.
I have a few words of advice for these people:
1. For f**k's sake, get on the internet or pick up a rule book and learn the rules before next week. The basics will be fine - as long as you know when a 50m penalty is valid or if a player is actually "holding the ball" - I will be satisfied;
2. Don't expect to win. The odds are against you. Since you're probably unaware of your club's history, the last time you won a premiership was 1933. That's last century. And back then you weren't Sydney, you were South Melbourne. Yes... down Mexico way. A Melbourne team.
Adelaide has played in two grand finals since they joined the AFL in 1991 - they've won both of them. They've made the finals in 7 of their 15 seasons. They've got a lot of finals experience. Don't write them off.
West Coast has played in three grand finals since they joined the AFL in 1987 - they've won two of them. I'm not entirely sure of their stats, but they've also got a lot of finals experience. Don't write them off either.
3. If Barry Hall gets done by the tribunal on Monday (as he should for that dirty punch) then you're screwed. He's one of your best ever players. Dirty, yes. But your best bloke up front.
4. If you lose, don't be sore about it. That won't earn you any respect from true AFL fans.
5. If you win, don't be wanky about it. Reason as above.
6. Finally, keep on supporting your team into next season and beyond. I mean it. Don't be a fairweather friend. If AFL is to have any chance in this town you need to be consistent in your support of your team.
I'm off to see the Crows vs Eagles game now... as a Hawthorn supporter who was born in SA I'm leaning towards the Crows, but only to annoy my mate who's an Eagles supporter.
Johnny-come-lately's the lot of them.
I have a few words of advice for these people:
1. For f**k's sake, get on the internet or pick up a rule book and learn the rules before next week. The basics will be fine - as long as you know when a 50m penalty is valid or if a player is actually "holding the ball" - I will be satisfied;
2. Don't expect to win. The odds are against you. Since you're probably unaware of your club's history, the last time you won a premiership was 1933. That's last century. And back then you weren't Sydney, you were South Melbourne. Yes... down Mexico way. A Melbourne team.
Adelaide has played in two grand finals since they joined the AFL in 1991 - they've won both of them. They've made the finals in 7 of their 15 seasons. They've got a lot of finals experience. Don't write them off.
West Coast has played in three grand finals since they joined the AFL in 1987 - they've won two of them. I'm not entirely sure of their stats, but they've also got a lot of finals experience. Don't write them off either.
3. If Barry Hall gets done by the tribunal on Monday (as he should for that dirty punch) then you're screwed. He's one of your best ever players. Dirty, yes. But your best bloke up front.
4. If you lose, don't be sore about it. That won't earn you any respect from true AFL fans.
5. If you win, don't be wanky about it. Reason as above.
6. Finally, keep on supporting your team into next season and beyond. I mean it. Don't be a fairweather friend. If AFL is to have any chance in this town you need to be consistent in your support of your team.
I'm off to see the Crows vs Eagles game now... as a Hawthorn supporter who was born in SA I'm leaning towards the Crows, but only to annoy my mate who's an Eagles supporter.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Horror-scopes
Dear Astrocenter.com,
I received an email from you today containing my daily horoscope. In case you've forgotten what you sent me, let me refresh your memory:
A phone call from a romantic partner could lead to an intimate get-together, and this encounter is likely to prove highly gratifying emotionally and bring you closer together. Passionate poetry and sexy novels could be especially appealing to you right now. If you're into writing, you could channel your own rush of sensuality into producing results today that are so well thought out they surprise even you. Grab the next pen and get started!
HA!
HA! I say.
I don't have a romantic partner Astrocenter.com... and sending me daily horoscopes like this just make me feel like a washed-up Bridget Jones type who never has any luck with men and is doomed to spend her days alone.
Thanks very much. I really appreciate it.
*takes another swig from the vodka bottle*
*turns up Chaka Khan on the stereo*
.
.
.
Sooooo, what's news...
Britney & Kevin had a baby boy. Let's hope she dresses the little tyke better than she dresses that pooch of hers. Ummm - I was actually referring to Bit Bit, not Kevin. But its pretty much the same thing.
Kate Moss has been snapped snorting five lines of coke in her boyfriend's recording studio. You go girl. If I had your money and my boyfriend made sh*t music that he made me listen to I'd probably be doing the same. And good on you for sharing it around... at least you're generous.
Renee & Kenny have broken up after only 5 months of marriage. I didn't like him in the first place (that hat always covered his eyes... shifty), but I'm still gutted. I thought she'd finally broken the Bridget Jones curse - she was my last hope that true love was possible!
Let's go drink a bottle of vodka and eat twenty bags of minstrels Renee... my treat.
All Sydneysiders (well, a fair few) are gripped with football fever. The Swans take on St Kilda tonight at the MGC. Its a hard one to call. I'm torn between not wanting the Swans to win (because Sydneysiders don't deserve to have a team playing in a grand final until they stop looking at me with blank faces when I try and explain a rule to them) and wanting them to win because it would be so much fun to have two non-Victorian teams playing in a grand final. Its hurting.
I really need to work out where my allegiances lie in this country... hell, in this world. I don't really call any particular place my home. I sometimes don't even think of myself as Australian. Especially when our PM does what he does. Its a constant quandry for me... I was born in South Australia to Victorian parents, grew up between the two states, then lived in the US & England for a number of years before moving to NSW 6 years ago. And I doubt I'll be staying here forever... I could be off again sooner than I think. Maybe they could create an "International Citizen" passport for me (and others who also feel somewhat displaced).
Anyhooo... to end the weekend, here's a fun time waster which was sent to me a little bit ago:
Someone obviously has a sense of humour. As much as I despise our PM, I despise that bloke even more.
Happy weekend all!
I'm going back to my vodka...
I don't have a drinking problem. Really.
xox
I received an email from you today containing my daily horoscope. In case you've forgotten what you sent me, let me refresh your memory:
A phone call from a romantic partner could lead to an intimate get-together, and this encounter is likely to prove highly gratifying emotionally and bring you closer together. Passionate poetry and sexy novels could be especially appealing to you right now. If you're into writing, you could channel your own rush of sensuality into producing results today that are so well thought out they surprise even you. Grab the next pen and get started!
HA!
HA! I say.
I don't have a romantic partner Astrocenter.com... and sending me daily horoscopes like this just make me feel like a washed-up Bridget Jones type who never has any luck with men and is doomed to spend her days alone.
Thanks very much. I really appreciate it.
*takes another swig from the vodka bottle*
*turns up Chaka Khan on the stereo*
.
.
.
Sooooo, what's news...
Britney & Kevin had a baby boy. Let's hope she dresses the little tyke better than she dresses that pooch of hers. Ummm - I was actually referring to Bit Bit, not Kevin. But its pretty much the same thing.
Kate Moss has been snapped snorting five lines of coke in her boyfriend's recording studio. You go girl. If I had your money and my boyfriend made sh*t music that he made me listen to I'd probably be doing the same. And good on you for sharing it around... at least you're generous.
Renee & Kenny have broken up after only 5 months of marriage. I didn't like him in the first place (that hat always covered his eyes... shifty), but I'm still gutted. I thought she'd finally broken the Bridget Jones curse - she was my last hope that true love was possible!
Let's go drink a bottle of vodka and eat twenty bags of minstrels Renee... my treat.
All Sydneysiders (well, a fair few) are gripped with football fever. The Swans take on St Kilda tonight at the MGC. Its a hard one to call. I'm torn between not wanting the Swans to win (because Sydneysiders don't deserve to have a team playing in a grand final until they stop looking at me with blank faces when I try and explain a rule to them) and wanting them to win because it would be so much fun to have two non-Victorian teams playing in a grand final. Its hurting.
I really need to work out where my allegiances lie in this country... hell, in this world. I don't really call any particular place my home. I sometimes don't even think of myself as Australian. Especially when our PM does what he does. Its a constant quandry for me... I was born in South Australia to Victorian parents, grew up between the two states, then lived in the US & England for a number of years before moving to NSW 6 years ago. And I doubt I'll be staying here forever... I could be off again sooner than I think. Maybe they could create an "International Citizen" passport for me (and others who also feel somewhat displaced).
Anyhooo... to end the weekend, here's a fun time waster which was sent to me a little bit ago:
Go to Google and type in the following phrase (with quotes):
"miserable failure"
Then click on the I'm Feeling Lucky button...
Someone obviously has a sense of humour. As much as I despise our PM, I despise that bloke even more.
Happy weekend all!
I'm going back to my vodka...
I don't have a drinking problem. Really.
xox
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
1988
So there's this fun music thing doing the rounds of blogs... you go to this site and type the year you graduated high school in the search box. Then you cut and paste the results into your blog.
You then bold the songs you loved, strikethrough the ones you hated and underline your favourite. Oh and ignore the ones you don't remember (or don't care about).
Be warned that it is an American list, which probably explains my inital query on seeing the list, which was "Who the f**k is Brenda Russell and how in the name of [insert preferred higher power here] did she rate higher on the list than John Mellencamp?".
Now remember, these are the songs I loved. Past tense. I may not like them now, but I loved them then. Actually that's a lie. I still love them.
1988. What a top year.
1. Faith, George Michael
2. Need You Tonight, INXS
3. Got My Mind Set On You, George Harrison
4. Never Gonna Give You Up, Rick Astley
5. Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses
6. One Moment in Time, Whitney Houston
7. Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Belinda Carlisle
8. Could've Been, Tiffany
9. Hands To Heaven, Breathe
10. Roll With It, Steve Winwood
11. One More Try, George Michael
12. Wishing Well, Terence Trent d'Arby
13. Anything For You, Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine
14. The Flame, Cheap Trick
15. Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car, Billy Ocean
16. Seasons Change, Expose
17. Is This Love, Whitesnake
18. Wild, Wild West, Escape Club
19. Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard
20. I'll Always Love You, Taylor Dayne
21. Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson
22. Shake Your Love, Debbie Gibson
23. Simply Irresistible, Robert Palmer
24. Hold On To The Nights, Richard Marx
25. Hungry Eyes, Eric Carmen
26. Shattered Dreams, Johnny Hates Jazz
27. Father Figure, George Michael
28. Naughty Girls (Need Love Too), Samantha Fox
29. A Groovy Kind Of Love, Phil Collins
30. Love Bites, Def Leppard
31. Endless Summer Nights, Richard Marx
32. Foolish Beat, Debbie Gibson
33. Where Do Broken Hearts Go, Whitney Houston
34. Angel, Aerosmith
35. Hazy Shade Of Winter, Bangles
36. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson
37. Don't Worry, Be Happy, Bobby McFerrin
38. Make Me Lose Control, Eric Carmen
39. Red Red Wine, UB40
40. She's Like The Wind, Patrick Swayze
41. Bad Medicine, Bon Jovi
42. Kokomo, Beach Boys
43. I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That, Elton John
44. Together Forever, Rick Astley
45. Monkey, George Michael
46. Devil Inside, INXS
47. Should've Known Better, Richard Marx
48. I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love, Chicago
49. The Loco-Motion, Kylie Minogue
50. What Have I Done To Deserve This?, Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield
51. Make It Real, Jets
52. What's On Your Mind, Information Society
53. Tell It To My Heart, Taylor Dayne
54. Out Of The Blue, Debbie Gibson
55. Don't You Want Me, Jody Watley
56. Desire, U2
57. I Get Weak, Belinda Carlisle
58. Sign Your Name, Terence Trent d'Arby
59. I Want To Be Your Man, Roger
60. Girlfriend, Pebbles
61. Dirty Diana, Michael Jackson
62. 1-2-3, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine
63. Mercedes Boy, Pebbles
64. Perfect World, Huey Lewis and the News
65. New Sensation, INXS
66. Catch Me (I'm Falling), Pretty Poison
67. If It Isn't Love, New Edition
68. Rocket 2 U, Jets
69. One Good Woman, Peter Cetera
70. Don't Be Cruel, Cheap Trick
71. Candle In The Wind, Elton John
72. Everything Your Heart Desires, Daryl Hall and John Oates
73. Say You Will , Foreigner
74. I Want Her, Keith Sweat
75. Pink Cadillac, Natalie Cole
76. Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
77. Electric Blue, Icehouse
78. The Valley Road, Bruce Hornsby and The Range
79. Don't Be Cruel, Bobby Brown
80. Always On My Mind, Pet Shop Boys
81. Piano In The Dark, Brenda Russell Featuring Joe Esposito
82. When It's Love, Van Halen
83. Don't Shed A Tear, Paul Carrack
84. We'll Be Together, Sting
85. I Hate Myself For Loving You, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts
86. I Don't Want To Live Without You, Foreigner
87. Nite And Day, Al B. Sure
88. Don't You Know What The Night Can Do, Steve Winwood
89.One Moment In Time, Whitney Houston
90. Can't Stay Away From You, Gloria Estefan and Miami Sound Machine
91. Kissing A Fool, George Michael
92. Cherry Bomb, John Cougar Mellencamp
93. I Still Believe, Brenda K. Starr
94. I Found Someone, Cher
95. Never Tear Us Apart, INXS
96. Valerie, Steve Windwood
97. Just Like Paradise, David Lee Roth
98. Nothin' But A Good Time, Poison
99. Wait, White Lion
100. Prove Your Love, Taylor Dayne
Yes, I underlined two. I couldn't choose between them. Don't ever make me choose between Mellencamp and the Gunners. And I can't believe how many times Debbie Gibson and Taylor Dayne appeared on that list... its outrageous. And even more outrageous is that they out-ranked those fabulous glam rock boys Van Halen and Poison. What were people thinking?
I gotta go perv on AndrewClutterbuck Lincoln in the final of Afterlife...
.
You then bold the songs you loved, strikethrough the ones you hated and underline your favourite. Oh and ignore the ones you don't remember (or don't care about).
Be warned that it is an American list, which probably explains my inital query on seeing the list, which was "Who the f**k is Brenda Russell and how in the name of [insert preferred higher power here] did she rate higher on the list than John Mellencamp?".
Now remember, these are the songs I loved. Past tense. I may not like them now, but I loved them then. Actually that's a lie. I still love them.
1988. What a top year.
1. Faith, George Michael
2. Need You Tonight, INXS
3. Got My Mind Set On You, George Harrison
4. Never Gonna Give You Up, Rick Astley
5. Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses
7. Heaven Is A Place On Earth, Belinda Carlisle
9. Hands To Heaven, Breathe
10. Roll With It, Steve Winwood
11. One More Try, George Michael
12. Wishing Well, Terence Trent d'Arby
14. The Flame, Cheap Trick
15. Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car, Billy Ocean
16. Seasons Change, Expose
17. Is This Love, Whitesnake
18. Wild, Wild West, Escape Club
19. Pour Some Sugar On Me, Def Leppard
21. Man In The Mirror, Michael Jackson
22. Shake Your Love, Debbie Gibson
23. Simply Irresistible, Robert Palmer
24. Hold On To The Nights, Richard Marx
25. Hungry Eyes, Eric Carmen
26. Shattered Dreams, Johnny Hates Jazz
27. Father Figure, George Michael
28. Naughty Girls (Need Love Too), Samantha Fox
30. Love Bites, Def Leppard
31. Endless Summer Nights, Richard Marx
32. Foolish Beat, Debbie Gibson
34. Angel, Aerosmith
35. Hazy Shade Of Winter, Bangles
36. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson
38. Make Me Lose Control, Eric Carmen
39. Red Red Wine, UB40
40. She's Like The Wind, Patrick Swayze
41. Bad Medicine, Bon Jovi
43. I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That, Elton John
44. Together Forever, Rick Astley
45. Monkey, George Michael
46. Devil Inside, INXS
47. Should've Known Better, Richard Marx
48. I Don't Wanna Live Without Your Love, Chicago
49. The Loco-Motion, Kylie Minogue
50. What Have I Done To Deserve This?, Pet Shop Boys and Dusty Springfield
51. Make It Real, Jets
52. What's On Your Mind, Information Society
54. Out Of The Blue, Debbie Gibson
55. Don't You Want Me, Jody Watley
56. Desire, U2
57. I Get Weak, Belinda Carlisle
58. Sign Your Name, Terence Trent d'Arby
59. I Want To Be Your Man, Roger
60. Girlfriend, Pebbles
61. Dirty Diana, Michael Jackson
63. Mercedes Boy, Pebbles
64. Perfect World, Huey Lewis and the News
65. New Sensation, INXS
66. Catch Me (I'm Falling), Pretty Poison
67. If It Isn't Love, New Edition
68. Rocket 2 U, Jets
70. Don't Be Cruel, Cheap Trick
72. Everything Your Heart Desires, Daryl Hall and John Oates
73. Say You Will , Foreigner
74. I Want Her, Keith Sweat
76. Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
77. Electric Blue, Icehouse
78. The Valley Road, Bruce Hornsby and The Range
79. Don't Be Cruel, Bobby Brown
80. Always On My Mind, Pet Shop Boys
81. Piano In The Dark, Brenda Russell Featuring Joe Esposito
82. When It's Love, Van Halen
83. Don't Shed A Tear, Paul Carrack
84. We'll Be Together, Sting
85. I Hate Myself For Loving You, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts
86. I Don't Want To Live Without You, Foreigner
87. Nite And Day, Al B. Sure
88. Don't You Know What The Night Can Do, Steve Winwood
91. Kissing A Fool, George Michael
92. Cherry Bomb, John Cougar Mellencamp
93. I Still Believe, Brenda K. Starr
95. Never Tear Us Apart, INXS
96. Valerie, Steve Windwood
97. Just Like Paradise, David Lee Roth
98. Nothin' But A Good Time, Poison
99. Wait, White Lion
Yes, I underlined two. I couldn't choose between them. Don't ever make me choose between Mellencamp and the Gunners. And I can't believe how many times Debbie Gibson and Taylor Dayne appeared on that list... its outrageous. And even more outrageous is that they out-ranked those fabulous glam rock boys Van Halen and Poison. What were people thinking?
I gotta go perv on Andrew
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Monday, September 12, 2005
Boom-shakalaka!
Buckle up ladies, this might get exciting.
Now say that in your best Southern drawl. And keep it up while you read this post.
I just got me back from the premiere of Dukes of Hazzard (courtesy of RocKat's buddy who works for one of them there radio stations). Doooo-Jesus*! I laughed till my sides damn near split in pieces**. It was so darn awful it was actually good. It was some of the darndest acting I've ever seen***, but so tongue-in-cheek that you couldn't help but love it. Wonder Woman (Lynda Carter) out-acts even Burt Reynolds... and that pains me to say****, cos I love Burt.
In case y'all***** need an example, here's a shiny bright one from that future Oscar and Nobel prize winner Jessica Simpson (aka Daisy Duke):
That was about her longest line. And you couldn't help but giggle at it, bless her. Stick to recording remakes of other people's songs Jess... purty please. Or you'll end up like Lynda Carter doin stupid cameos. Oh gosh darn it******, you're right. That's what you did in this movie.
OK. Y'all can drop the accent now.
Willie Nelson sat there telling jokes, drinking moonshine and smoking "baccy". You could just tell he was off his chops and loving every second of it. And he got to sing the theme song. He can't beat Waylon, but he wasn't bad. I wouldn't mind having a crack at that song... I reckon I'd do a pretty good job of it.
But by far the most entertaining part of the evening was the number of B-list celebrities my friends and I spotted. Lefty Tim, Casey from Idol, Annalise whats-her-face and most of the Home & Away cast. If I'd looked closer I probably would have spotted a Logan twin, Andrew G and the Keating kids.
Oh and the Jackass himself, Johnny Knoxville. Who hasn't slept since he got off the plane yesterday, freely admitted he was f###ed off his nut when interviewed on Sunrise this morning and has probably taken more drugs and shagged more women in the past day than Kochie has in a lifetime. You go Luke Duke.
They took my pic as I walked down the red carpet. Without any clue as to who I was or if I was important. When I was in my cruddy work clothes and not wearing any makeup. Awwww shucks.
Y'all come back now, y'hear?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
* Goodness me
** Got a pain in my side
*** Crap acting
**** Hurts me
***** You all
****** Sh*t
Now say that in your best Southern drawl. And keep it up while you read this post.
I just got me back from the premiere of Dukes of Hazzard (courtesy of RocKat's buddy who works for one of them there radio stations). Doooo-Jesus*! I laughed till my sides damn near split in pieces**. It was so darn awful it was actually good. It was some of the darndest acting I've ever seen***, but so tongue-in-cheek that you couldn't help but love it. Wonder Woman (Lynda Carter) out-acts even Burt Reynolds... and that pains me to say****, cos I love Burt.
In case y'all***** need an example, here's a shiny bright one from that future Oscar and Nobel prize winner Jessica Simpson (aka Daisy Duke):
"You know what's gonna happen. They're gonna get caught and get thrown in jail. Then I'm gonna have to shake my ass at somebody to get them out."
That was about her longest line. And you couldn't help but giggle at it, bless her. Stick to recording remakes of other people's songs Jess... purty please. Or you'll end up like Lynda Carter doin stupid cameos. Oh gosh darn it******, you're right. That's what you did in this movie.
OK. Y'all can drop the accent now.
Willie Nelson sat there telling jokes, drinking moonshine and smoking "baccy". You could just tell he was off his chops and loving every second of it. And he got to sing the theme song. He can't beat Waylon, but he wasn't bad. I wouldn't mind having a crack at that song... I reckon I'd do a pretty good job of it.
But by far the most entertaining part of the evening was the number of B-list celebrities my friends and I spotted. Lefty Tim, Casey from Idol, Annalise whats-her-face and most of the Home & Away cast. If I'd looked closer I probably would have spotted a Logan twin, Andrew G and the Keating kids.
Oh and the Jackass himself, Johnny Knoxville. Who hasn't slept since he got off the plane yesterday, freely admitted he was f###ed off his nut when interviewed on Sunrise this morning and has probably taken more drugs and shagged more women in the past day than Kochie has in a lifetime. You go Luke Duke.
They took my pic as I walked down the red carpet. Without any clue as to who I was or if I was important. When I was in my cruddy work clothes and not wearing any makeup. Awwww shucks.
Y'all come back now, y'hear?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
* Goodness me
** Got a pain in my side
*** Crap acting
**** Hurts me
***** You all
****** Sh*t
Sunday, September 11, 2005
I got plenty
...of nothing.
Sorry peeps. There's no inspiration today. Nothing has amused me, nothing has pissed me off, nothing has happened. In fact its almost as if today doesn't exist.
Come back tomorrow. I'll think of something exciting. I promise. Or you'll get your money back.*
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*that's a lie
Sorry peeps. There's no inspiration today. Nothing has amused me, nothing has pissed me off, nothing has happened. In fact its almost as if today doesn't exist.
Come back tomorrow. I'll think of something exciting. I promise. Or you'll get your money back.*
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*that's a lie
Friday, September 09, 2005
Knackers & Family
I'm being lazy today... I'm at work, there's a million rugrats milling around for some dance festival and I desperately want to get the peeps into the theatre for Edmond and finish up so I can head over to the pub for AJ's farewell drinks (she left the company months ago but they've only just realised she was due a proper farewell... typical of the TWOD).
My friend Carmen sent me this joke today. I laughed.
If you're a Collingwood supporter you'll be offended. But I think its highly unlikely any Collingwood supporters will be reading this blog since I don't know any Collingwood supporters, let alone have them as friends.
If you support any other AFL team though you may laugh as much as I did.
Here goes...
Go Cats. Knock those Swans off their perch.
Go Crows. Beat the s**t out of Port.
My friend Carmen sent me this joke today. I laughed.
If you're a Collingwood supporter you'll be offended. But I think its highly unlikely any Collingwood supporters will be reading this blog since I don't know any Collingwood supporters, let alone have them as friends.
If you support any other AFL team though you may laugh as much as I did.
Here goes...
A family of Collingwood supporters head out one Saturday morning to do their Christmas shoplifting.
While in Rebel Sports the son picks up an Eagles footy jumper and says to his 10 year old sister, "Hey mole, I've decided to become an Eagles supporter and I want this for Christmas."
His sister, outraged by this, promptly wacks him around the head with her carton of Winfield's and says, "Shit head, go talk to mum."
Off goes the little lad with the Eagles jumper stuffed up his Miller shirt and finds his mum.
"Mum?" "Yes son?" "I've decided I'm going to be a Eagles supporter and I want this jumper for Christmas."
The mother is outraged at this and throws her moccasins and a full stubbie of VB at him, smacks him in the gob and says "Let's go talk to your father!"
Off they go to the prison during visiting hours, with footy jumper in hand, and find Moose, his toothless tattooed father.
"Dad?" "Yes, Knackers?" "I've decided I'm going to be a Eagles supporter and I want this jumper for Christmas."
Moose goes berserk and gives his son an almighty backhander and says, "No bastard of mine is ever going to be seen wearing that shit!" and then kicks his arse from one end of the rec-room to the other, just for good measure.
About half an hour later they're all back in the old Torana and heading towards home. The mother turns to her son and says, "Knackers, have you learned something today?" The son says "Shit, I bloody well have!" "Good Knackers, what is it?"
The son replies, "I've only been an Eagles supporter for an hour, and already I hate you Collingwood pricks."
Go Cats. Knock those Swans off their perch.
Go Crows. Beat the s**t out of Port.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Grace of ...?
I was sitting in Victoria Park eating my lunch and enjoying the sunshine today and a woman approached me with a very dodgy, very worn book of raffle tickets (the kind you get at the newsagent for 60 cents) in her hand. She said she was part of a dance troupe who'd been invited to perform in North Dakota and they were raising money to get there. From the looks of her, I doubt she'd have made it to North Sydney, let alone North Dakota but you had to give her snaps for creative thinking.
If I'd actually had my wallet with me at the time I'd have given her $20 for being inventive enough to use something other than the "got a dollar for the train, sis?" line.
As she walked away I was reminded of a line my grandmother used to say whenever she saw someone less fortunate - "there but for the grace of god, go I". Then it suddenly struck me that I don't actually believe in god and I'm not a fan of mass religion in general, so using that expression is pretty hypocritical. But I couldn't think of anything more suitable. I wonder if Buddhists have a similar expression? What about the Scientologists? Maybe I'll drop Tom an email and ask him... he seems to be an expert on everything.
When I was a small kid my parents used to drag me to church, but the only way they could get me to sit there quietly and not heckle the priest was to let me bring a story book. The only time I was even remotely interested was when there was some hymn singing going on. In fact for someone who isn't remotely religious I seem to know a large variety of hymns. I've always loved a good sing-a-long.
I don't think Father John was overly impressed with me sitting in church reading The Enchanted Wood or Claudine of St Clare's, but at least I didn't interrupt his sermons by questioning him as to why it was only boys who could join the choir or be altar servers. That always annoyed me. Maybe I would have been more interested if I'd been allowed to be up the front (on the stage, so to speak... its the performer in me).
I wonder if the lady in Victoria Park will ever make it to North Dakota to perform... I hope so. I'd go along and cheer.
If I'd actually had my wallet with me at the time I'd have given her $20 for being inventive enough to use something other than the "got a dollar for the train, sis?" line.
As she walked away I was reminded of a line my grandmother used to say whenever she saw someone less fortunate - "there but for the grace of god, go I". Then it suddenly struck me that I don't actually believe in god and I'm not a fan of mass religion in general, so using that expression is pretty hypocritical. But I couldn't think of anything more suitable. I wonder if Buddhists have a similar expression? What about the Scientologists? Maybe I'll drop Tom an email and ask him... he seems to be an expert on everything.
When I was a small kid my parents used to drag me to church, but the only way they could get me to sit there quietly and not heckle the priest was to let me bring a story book. The only time I was even remotely interested was when there was some hymn singing going on. In fact for someone who isn't remotely religious I seem to know a large variety of hymns. I've always loved a good sing-a-long.
I don't think Father John was overly impressed with me sitting in church reading The Enchanted Wood or Claudine of St Clare's, but at least I didn't interrupt his sermons by questioning him as to why it was only boys who could join the choir or be altar servers. That always annoyed me. Maybe I would have been more interested if I'd been allowed to be up the front (on the stage, so to speak... its the performer in me).
I wonder if the lady in Victoria Park will ever make it to North Dakota to perform... I hope so. I'd go along and cheer.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Scattered...
Isn't it amazing what you stumble across when you type "___________" into the Google Image search engine?
In this particular instance I was looking for images of Punky Brewster*. That funky little 80's icon who inspired in me a love of pigtails, mis-matched clothes and pink converse high tops.
I'm not really sure why I was looking for pictures of PB... boredom? fit of nostalgia? who knows.
These guys popped up on a colouring book website dedicated to cheesy 80's kid's stuff. Yeah, a colouring book website. Who thinks up that shit?
Those of you who are familiar with my blogging will remember a previous reference to Sesame Street (Bert in particular). Those of you who aren't, can either: (a) trust me**; (b) scroll through my archives; or (c) click here. See? I made it easy for you.
Anyway.
That picture of Bert & Ernie is worrying on so many levels. Makes me think maybe my ma was right not to let me watch SS. Bert looks worried. And like he's eaten something bad. And what exactly are the things Ernie is referring to? What does he want to grow?
Input encouraged on this one.
Speaking of growing things, I've just been outside watering my veggie patch. You heard me... my veggie patch. I'm growing veggies. Flatmate B has got me hooked on this gardening thing. Well, sort of. She does most of the grunt work and I flit about with the watering can and secataurs every couple of days pretending to look like I know what I'm doing. And every couple of weeks we go to Bunnings and I get excited picking out all the things I want her to plant. Like pretty flowers. And veggies.
We're growing leeks, cucumbers, beans, zucchini, carrots and beetroot. I hate beetroot, but Flatmate A adores the stuff so its for her. I'm not too keen on leeks either but that's mainly because I never really know quite how to cook them. I must drop Jamie O an email about that - see what he can come up with for me***.
I got my stitches out today. Sorry... I'm leaping from topic to topic with reckless abandon. I'm a bit scattered today. You should have guessed that from the title. Anyway, try and keep up.
Now that the stiches are out there's a kick-ass scar. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not two days before I get new headshots done. Oh well, there's always photoshop. I'll be rubbing in the cocoa butter every five minutes for the next 48 hours though. And I'm still not allowed to soak in a bath in case the wound splits open. Grrrrr. Still, at least the stiches are out and the autopsy (sorry, biopsy) was all clear. I should stop bitching about it.
The guy on the radio is bitching about the price of petrol going up, up, up... here's an idea fella... how about not driving? How about getting off your ass and walking? I love driving as much as the next person but the best thing I ever did was get rid of my car earlier this year. I don't need one day-to-day. And on the days I do need one I have a lovely friend (as well as my lovely Flatmate A) who will lend me theirs.
John Travolta is using his jet to help the people in New Orleans. Bless his cotton socks. He's a much better advertisement for Scientology than that freak Tom Cruise.
And Sean Penn got his boat out to help rescue people (but forgot to put the plug in so it started taking on water). Again, bless. Good on them for getting out there.
Incidentally, where's Tom Cruise when all this is going on? Huh? Oh yeah, bouncing on a sofa somewhere.
Anyway, I think I've rambled enough. That's what comes of being alone all day. Flatmate B is home and she's got the guitar out. Think I'll go and strike some chords on the keyboard.
Seeyabye...
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* how could you not love her?
** never a wise choice
*** I don't know Jamie Oliver, but I'm sure I can email him via his website. And I'm sure he'll email back. Its not like he's got anything better to do than create new recipes for me.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Swap?
This about sums up my mood at work today....
If I work with you and you piss me off today...
I always get cast as the clumsy one. Probably because I am. Even after 6 weeks of fight training for Shakespeare I still managed to get the bloody sword stuck in the hilt most shows. Also, I'm always covered in bruises and I'm never quite sure how I got them. And no, that's not directly related to the amount of alcohol I've been consuming of late. I'm just a klutz. And there's nothing cool, kick-ass or sexy about being a klutz.
The RocKat & I are gonna quit this Toxic Workplace of Doom and form our own rebel theatre company. Anyone wanna join?
19 days until Lulu returns...
If I work with you and you piss me off today...
I can and will slay youI think I'd like to swap lives with Eliza Dushku. She gets to be the cool, kick-ass, sexy chick in everything. Buffy, Bring It On, Tru Calling... that shit would be fun.
I always get cast as the clumsy one. Probably because I am. Even after 6 weeks of fight training for Shakespeare I still managed to get the bloody sword stuck in the hilt most shows. Also, I'm always covered in bruises and I'm never quite sure how I got them. And no, that's not directly related to the amount of alcohol I've been consuming of late. I'm just a klutz. And there's nothing cool, kick-ass or sexy about being a klutz.
The RocKat & I are gonna quit this Toxic Workplace of Doom and form our own rebel theatre company. Anyone wanna join?
19 days until Lulu returns...
This is the slayer signing off.
Friday, September 02, 2005
That's the danger with crisps...
A Scottish bloke I work with used that expression today, when a packet of salt & vinegar chips got stuck in the vending machine outside the green room.
I laughed and laughed and laughed. It made my day.
"That's the danger with crisps"
Brilliant.
You gotta watch those crisps - they can be nasty. Can take an eye out if you're not careful.
I just received a text message from my friend Carmen who is currently walking home across the bridge wearing her West Coast Eagles cap.
Apparently her choice of headgear is causing quite a stir and she has received a number of hand gestures and comments. For those of you not in the know, West Coast plays the Sydney Swans tonight in the second qualifying final (although it's the first game of the weekend so why it's called the second qualifying final is a mystery). Oh and that's AFL. You know, the code which requires skill.
Even though Sydney is my adopted home (for the time being), I couldn't stand them to win an AFL premiership, so I'm barracking for West Coast in this game.
It's a big weekend of football people. Even though my team's not playing I'm still excited. I love September.
I'm going to the races tomorrow as well. I'm tipster bitch for my mate Damo. We have a long tradition of me helping him with tips. What we do is, he shows me the form guide, I pick out the names that sound pretty, he puts money on them and he wins. Then he buys me drinks. After the races are over we head off to a pub to watch more football. Its a win-win situation for everyone.
Anyone who wants to join us in our sporting activities is more than welcome. We'll be the ones yelling at the horses and then at the TV in the pub.
Happy weekends all!
I laughed and laughed and laughed. It made my day.
"That's the danger with crisps"
Brilliant.
You gotta watch those crisps - they can be nasty. Can take an eye out if you're not careful.
I just received a text message from my friend Carmen who is currently walking home across the bridge wearing her West Coast Eagles cap.
Apparently her choice of headgear is causing quite a stir and she has received a number of hand gestures and comments. For those of you not in the know, West Coast plays the Sydney Swans tonight in the second qualifying final (although it's the first game of the weekend so why it's called the second qualifying final is a mystery). Oh and that's AFL. You know, the code which requires skill.
Even though Sydney is my adopted home (for the time being), I couldn't stand them to win an AFL premiership, so I'm barracking for West Coast in this game.
It's a big weekend of football people. Even though my team's not playing I'm still excited. I love September.
I'm going to the races tomorrow as well. I'm tipster bitch for my mate Damo. We have a long tradition of me helping him with tips. What we do is, he shows me the form guide, I pick out the names that sound pretty, he puts money on them and he wins. Then he buys me drinks. After the races are over we head off to a pub to watch more football. Its a win-win situation for everyone.
Anyone who wants to join us in our sporting activities is more than welcome. We'll be the ones yelling at the horses and then at the TV in the pub.
Happy weekends all!
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Pick a colour
This morning I heard Bianca Dye call Heath Ledger a "knob".
Fine, let's get this out of the way first. Yes, I was listening to Nova. So sue me for actually liking a bit of commercial radio. It may or may not interest you to know that I listen to other stations as well, including Triple J (I have a weird thing for Chris Taylor) and Mix 106.5 (their lunchtime 80s mix is great). Hell, I'll even flick over to the AM band on a weekend and listen to the commentary of an AFL game if none of the TV stations are showing my team play.
I can't stand radio snobs. My radio taste is diverse and those people who look down on others because of which radio station they listen to should be tied up and force fed John Laws and Alan Jones. I can't stand those two, by the way. Talkback bores me to tears but there's obviously a market for it and who am I to judge?
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Bianca. Heath. Knob.
I like Bianca Dye. She's a funny girl. She call it like she sees it. She conceded to her colleague that Heath is a spunk, but said that didn't excuse the fact that he's a complete knob, a very unpleasant person in general and one of the most difficult interviewees she's ever had.
I have no idea whether Heath is a knob or not (and the likelihood of me ever meeting him and therefore forming an opinion is miniscule) but good on her for giving her opinion and not being beige. There's too much beige in this world.
Beige? De quoi parlez-vous?
Yes, you heard me. I'm sick of people being beige. People not being honest with themselves and others.
If you have an opinion on something then give it. If you don't like something or someone then say so. Don't feel like you have to like everything and everybody in this world. Your don't. Really. And everyone should be ok with that.
I'm not saying that we should be mean or nasty. There's no point in that. Just be honest. No one's into honesty anymore. I'll admit that my honesty is a bit blunt and sometimes what I say does get misinterpreted but I never intend it to be mean or nasty. I just know from harsh life experience that life is too short and you should be honest.
Be honest with yourself and honest with others.
Also, I'm a big advocate for changing your mind. On everything - people, places, career, choice of partner, food, objects, music, movies - the list is endless. And don't feel like you have to excuse yourself for it.
I change my mind frequently.
People I didn't rate much on the first meeting have turned out to be some of my dearest friends. Others I thought were fabulous on first impression turned out to be not the kind of people I want to spend time with.
I used to work for an investment bank in London and lived a pretty decadent lifestyle. Then I decided to become an actress, went to drama school and now live on my credit cards and earn roughly what I used to pay in tax. But I don't regret any of it.
Ten years ago I hated the colour pink. Now I love it.
I used to really dislike Jack Johnson's music. Now I really love it. Listening to Missy Higgins songs still makes me want to stick pins in my eyes however.
When I was a kid you couldn't pay me to eat fruit or vegetables. Now I crave the stuff.
I used to be terrified of saying "I love you". Now I say it to my nearest & dearest all the time. Its important - people need to feel loved. People need to know they're valued.
I used to worry that I was constantly rambling and going off on tangents... now I say deal with it. I'm not forcing you to listen to me (or read me, as the case may be).
Anyhow, my message today is simple. Pick a colour people. Any colour - bright as you like. Just don't be beige.
* trips as she falls down off her soapbox *
Love you all. Yes, even you.
xoxo
Fine, let's get this out of the way first. Yes, I was listening to Nova. So sue me for actually liking a bit of commercial radio. It may or may not interest you to know that I listen to other stations as well, including Triple J (I have a weird thing for Chris Taylor) and Mix 106.5 (their lunchtime 80s mix is great). Hell, I'll even flick over to the AM band on a weekend and listen to the commentary of an AFL game if none of the TV stations are showing my team play.
I can't stand radio snobs. My radio taste is diverse and those people who look down on others because of which radio station they listen to should be tied up and force fed John Laws and Alan Jones. I can't stand those two, by the way. Talkback bores me to tears but there's obviously a market for it and who am I to judge?
Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Bianca. Heath. Knob.
I like Bianca Dye. She's a funny girl. She call it like she sees it. She conceded to her colleague that Heath is a spunk, but said that didn't excuse the fact that he's a complete knob, a very unpleasant person in general and one of the most difficult interviewees she's ever had.
I have no idea whether Heath is a knob or not (and the likelihood of me ever meeting him and therefore forming an opinion is miniscule) but good on her for giving her opinion and not being beige. There's too much beige in this world.
Beige? De quoi parlez-vous?
Yes, you heard me. I'm sick of people being beige. People not being honest with themselves and others.
If you have an opinion on something then give it. If you don't like something or someone then say so. Don't feel like you have to like everything and everybody in this world. Your don't. Really. And everyone should be ok with that.
I'm not saying that we should be mean or nasty. There's no point in that. Just be honest. No one's into honesty anymore. I'll admit that my honesty is a bit blunt and sometimes what I say does get misinterpreted but I never intend it to be mean or nasty. I just know from harsh life experience that life is too short and you should be honest.
Be honest with yourself and honest with others.
Also, I'm a big advocate for changing your mind. On everything - people, places, career, choice of partner, food, objects, music, movies - the list is endless. And don't feel like you have to excuse yourself for it.
I change my mind frequently.
People I didn't rate much on the first meeting have turned out to be some of my dearest friends. Others I thought were fabulous on first impression turned out to be not the kind of people I want to spend time with.
I used to work for an investment bank in London and lived a pretty decadent lifestyle. Then I decided to become an actress, went to drama school and now live on my credit cards and earn roughly what I used to pay in tax. But I don't regret any of it.
Ten years ago I hated the colour pink. Now I love it.
I used to really dislike Jack Johnson's music. Now I really love it. Listening to Missy Higgins songs still makes me want to stick pins in my eyes however.
When I was a kid you couldn't pay me to eat fruit or vegetables. Now I crave the stuff.
I used to be terrified of saying "I love you". Now I say it to my nearest & dearest all the time. Its important - people need to feel loved. People need to know they're valued.
I used to worry that I was constantly rambling and going off on tangents... now I say deal with it. I'm not forcing you to listen to me (or read me, as the case may be).
Anyhow, my message today is simple. Pick a colour people. Any colour - bright as you like. Just don't be beige.
* trips as she falls down off her soapbox *
Love you all. Yes, even you.
xoxo
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