Greetings from Adders

This will have to be the quickest post ever as I'm taking advantage of the fact the mater has "nipped down to the shops" (Adelaidian for "going to the supermarket") and is therefore not berating me over internet usage.

She has dial up. Bless. So old school.

Anyway.

First Christmas in Adelaide in, oooh, I don't know... years. Its been quite nice because we went to my sis's house Christmas day which was very laid back. Usually we either have it at my mum's or my brother's, both of which are stressful enough to have me reaching for the valium, the champers and the nearest sharp object, simultaneously.

My sis doesn't cook. Says she wasn't born to. So we had cold chicken, ham and salads.

The day before my mother had done the full roast turkey with all the trimmings for lunch, so I don't feel I missed out on anything.

My sis bought me a bottle of Moet as my Christmas present. Of course I had to share it with her, but that's ok. My mum bought me the Dr Who Series 2 box set which was exactly what I'd ordered. I've already got her hooked... I think she might be taking a trip back to get one for herself.

Its been a bit dismal here weather wise but its nicer today. I didn't really pack any warm clothes so I'm a bit unprepared. I did, in the wisdom that comes with packing your suitcase at 4am when you're drunk, pack 7 little sundresses. I'm only here for 5 days. Obviously I need to be more organised next time and pack during the day. Sober.

Yesterday I sat on the sofa and watched the cricket all day. When it wasn't raining of course. How good was Roy's ton today? Love that boy.

Yoiks! Mater is home. Gotta go.

Love to all!

Today's post brought to you by the letter H.

Today's award for excellence in broadcasting goes to (insert drum roll here)...

Matt Newton

For correct pronunciation of the letter 'H' (in this case used when saying "HSC" on the breakfast show on Nova this morning).

It brought joy to my heart. Especially when he started to correct Akmal Saleh, who was quite frankly starting to do my head in every time he incorrectly said the letter H.

It is a pet peeve of mine. It hurts my ears. Much like a flat note or Kasey Chambers' voice.

I blame my parents.

Anyway.

Aitch. Not Haitch.

Snaps Matt, snaps.

This Life + 10

Very excited by this report.

I love love LOVED this show.

I don't think there was any better (drama) programme than this in the 90s. Brilliant writing, brilliant acting, brilliant everything.

But I could never choose between these two lovely chaps:

The dapper and dashing Jack Davenport

or

The sexy, soulful Andrew Lincoln.

*Sigh*

I still can't choose.

Although Egg was the nicer character of the two. Miles was a bit of a prat, truth be told.

Let's hope the ABC snaps this one up quickly so we can see it here before 2010.

Keep On The Sunny Side

Methinks I've been listening to the O Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack a leeetle too much in the last week.

I'd forgotten how much I love the cheesy songs on it.

So.

How are we all? Fine? Well? Happy?

Top banana.

I've got a touch of the pink eye again. Remember? Pain in the arse. I spent four hours this morning at the eye hospital and Dr Dracula took another gazillion vials of blood. At least this time Dr Dracula was a young and HOT intern. Matt. Or Mike. Maybe it was Mitchell. Anyway, it was something starting with M. Whatever his name is he didn't do a very good job though... I have the biggest bruise and my arm is still sore six hours later.

Anyway, now I HAVE to go and see a rheumatologist. I'm not allowed to put it off any longer. Boring. But I can't get in to see her until January 11, so meanwhile, I have to go back to two different types of drops every hour, no contact lens wearing, which REALLY pisses me off (for f***'s sake, its the silly season and my glasses don't match ANY of my party frocks!) and minimal screen time (TV & computer).

Just bring out a shotgun and shoot me now. Please.

So over this crap of being unwell but not sick.

And to add insult to injury, I was the only one of my friends (it seems) who didn't get to see boy-o on the weekend. Doesn't matter that I've seen him a couple of times before, I missed seeing him this time and that peeves me.

However, on the sunny side, his old mates have the number one single and album in the UK. Being the tragic I am, I have already downloaded it onto my iPod and it has had multiple playings, much to the amusement/disgust of my flatmates.

Oh and my mother let it slip that I'm getting this for Christmas. HURRAH!! Hours of fun for everyone. Especially me.

Finally, today is Lulu's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY LULU! You are gonna love love love your present... I consider it one of my more inspired MK & A* purchases.

xoxo




* If I have to tell you who MK & A are, then you probably wouldn't be interested in the present. Lulu knows. And will probably be jumping up and down with excitement.

Quickie!

I'm sure you're all dying to know how I went on Monday.

Monday. You know. Day of filming this:

What do you mean you forgot??

Rude.

Anway, I had much more fun than I expected. My fellow Alchemist and I mangaged to do lots of plugs for our theatre company, Peter Everett loved us because we gave him lots of backchat and after discovering I didn't have a boyfriend like he first thought, my chef tried to chat me up and invited me back to his hotel "for a swim"!

Bless his cotton socks for trying it on.

I wonder how many other contestants he's tried it with?!

Oh and no. I didn't go for a swim. I was too busy lugging home my prize... a microwave!

Anyone need a microwave? I have one already.

I was actually hoping to win second prize which was a coffee maker. Much more appropriate for me.

Ah well. Winners are grinners and all that.

And it was quite flattering to be chatted up by someone who knows his way around a kitchen. Honestly, if he'd been a few inches taller and cut off that hideous ponytail, he might have succeeded. His food was DIVINE. Way to a girl's heart, etc...

I'm off for a run now. Got to work off all that food...

Oh and if you want to know which chef I'm talking about, either go to the website and work out which chefs have ponytails, or wait until February and watch the show.

xo

This time 11 years ago...

Today whilst cleaning out a cupboard I found an old travel diary which was written in November/December 1995.

On 3 December 1995 I was in California, staying at the YHA in Santa Monica. Very good hostel by the way. Highly recommend it. I'd spent the day being a tourist at Venice Beach with a very cute documentary filmmaker named Matt and we were scouring the classifieds because I'd suddenly decided to ditch my Amtrak pass and purchase a car. All because taking a little drive* across the USA sounded more fun than catching trains.

Three days later I'd purchased said car and was speeding my way up the coast to San Francisco with Alannis Morrisette blaring out of the stereo.

I used to be spontaneous like that.

What the bejeezus happened?

Someone get me a plane ticket, stat. I'm getting in a rut here.





* West to East, East to South, South to North, North to East... 32 states in total. And on my own.

Nothing to see here...

A bit empty on blog ideas at present... hopefully come up with some interesting fodder shortly.

In the meantime... I'll be filming my Ready Steady Cook episode on Monday! (Guess they liked my warthog story.) Its the first episode of the series to be screened in 2007, so keep your eyes peeled. Pun definitely intended.

In other news...

Thanks to genius planning and organisation, I got Row D, centre for the now sold out performances of Ralph Fiennes at the Sydney Festival. Swoon. I also have tickets for the sold out La Clique at The Famous Speigeltent and the fabulously named Seemanslieder (say it like the Germans would!). Couldn't get anyone to go with me to that though... I guess European avant-garde theatre isn't really everyone's cup of tea.

Now if only I could find someone to go see Rockstar: Supernova with me at the Hordern. There must be someone who wants to go perv on Tommy Lee and Gilby Clarke...

I'm also feeling quite smug because I've nearly finished all my Christmas shopping. I've yet to think about Christmas cards though... unlike Ems whose card arrived from Belgium yesterday (you are too freaking organised woman!!!).

I'm also compiling my Christmas list and not-so-subtly dropping hints about what I'd like... for instance did you know that the Series 2 box set of Dr Who comes out on December 7? Or that there is such a thing as a TARDIS keychain? (thanks for the heads up on that Lisa!). And Benefit have a new Benetint/Lipgloss pocketpal which would be oh-so-handy. There's also a Gleebooks catalogue open on my kitchen table which just happens to be marked with my summer reading plan. Oh and I've decided I want someone to create a Sister Wendy t-shirt. Anyone who's ever seen any of her utterly brilliant documentaries will understand the fascination.

And if all else fails, an iTunes voucher will do me nicely, thanks mum.

Right. I'm off to make lunch and watch Ready Steady Cook in preparation for my taping...

xo

The Brutha Birthday Dilemma!

Here's today's dilemma.

What does one purchase as a birthday present for one's older brother (Brutha), bearing in mind the following...

1. The sum total of time Brutha and I have spent in each other's company over the last 12 years equates to less than one month. In fact I would probably say it totals about a fortnight.

2. Brutha doesn't read. Anything. Not books (unless you count the occasional comic), not magazines, not newspapers. Nada. Sometimes I do wonder if one of us was switched at birth.

3. Brutha plays a lot of sport (cricket, hockey, tennis and is annoyingly brilliant at all of them) and is a... a... (I can't bring myself to say it) Crows supporter (aaarrggghh), but I have no idea as to what, if any, related paraphernalia he either has or would interest him.

4. Apparently Brutha has stacked on so much weight since I last saw him (about 18 months ago) that I have no idea what clothing size he may be. I don't want to insult him by choosing either XL (which is one size up from what he used to be) or XXXXL (I'm really hoping he's not Demis Roussos sized). Nor do I have any idea of how stylish he may be. Although his wife does choose most of his clothes and I find her taste somewhat questionable.

5. Aside from the fact he once upon a time must have liked Spandau Ballet and Bon Jovi (cos he stole my records), I have no idea what type of music he listens to. He doesn't own an iPod either. In fact, I doubt he even knows how to use a computer. That's not a sledge, its just a fact. The man is a truck driver.

6. He only drinks beer. When I was in Portugal ten years ago I bought him a bottle of port made in 1969 (the year of his birth). He said it tasted gross and threw it out. Huh.

7. He loves Spiderman but I couldn't even begin to work out what he does or doesn't have in the way of paraphernalia because he has an entire shed-full.

8. He's never been overseas nor does he have any desire to. Hell, he's never even been to visit me in Sydney. Nor, I suspect, does he have any desire to. He doesn't like cities.

9. The last time he went to the theatre was about 1975 when our parents took us to see Mary Poppins. It obviously scarred him for life because on our next theatrical outing to see The Magic Flute he was notably absent. He's never seen any of my stage performances either.

10. Bear in mind that this must be posted by tomorrow morning to Adelaide in order to reach him by Saturday. Posted. Yes. So it can't be bulky.

Fire away with your suggestions people.

Ten Discoveries

Ten things I discovered at last night's opening of the musical we had to have:

1. This woman is far more beautiful in person than on screen or in photos. She literally radiates beauty. And, she's polite. And nice. In fact she's probably bloody perfect in every way. How depressing for we mere mortals.

2. In my sexy new heels (Clive, but in matte black), I am taller than our previous PM.

3. Even if you are as just as well-known as your husband, some dumb photographers will still elbow you out of the way to get a pic of him on his own.

4. Artistic license is a wonderful thing. The ending of this show will really get you thinking "what if..."

5. It is possible to be at an afterparty with the aforementioned PM's offspring and resist the urge to ask them what they actually do with their lives apart from appear in the social pages every week. It did take a fair amount of restraint though.

6. Always take a pair of flip flops in your bag for when the after-party moves on down the road to a dodgy 24 hour pub and your sexy new shoes decide to cripple your feet.

7. The quality of the bubbles at the pub is never going to be anywhere near as high as the quality of the bubbles at the after-party. So don't drink it. Or be prepared for ouch.

8. Check the hottness of the mustard BEFORE you slather it all over the bowl of hot chips you feel compelled to purchase at 2am. But if you don't, then always have a drink handy.

9. The dodgier the pub, the more eclectic and amusing the jukebox choices. Which leads into number ten...

10. Plastic Bertrand is guaranteed crowd pleaser at 3am.

Whew!!

Don't know how Deano's feeling there but I'm feeling pretty bloody happy that all those teenage girls finally forgot to vote.

I'm sure you'll sell plenty of albums Dean. I'm sure you'll have many a screaming teenage fan turn up to a Westfield to see you sing some dodgy cover of a song that was dodgy in the first place. You'll be mentioned in all the teen mags... hell you may even get your own advice column in Dolly if you play your cards right. A role on Neighbours is but a manager's call away.

But.

I'm so relieved you're not going to be standing on that Opera House stage in two weeks. Damien may rival Val Doonican for nana-appeal, but he's an amazing singer, a nice bloke and that aria he sang last night brought tears of joy to my eyes.

I admit (bevis!) that I did not think much of Jessica at the beginning of the series. However she has taken all the feedback (both positve and negative), used it, learned from it and has grown so much as a performer in an astonishingly short period of time that she's won me over. I like her.

Whichever one of them wins will truly deserve it. They're both there on merit.

But I'm sitting on the fence... I can't call it. I don't know which one will win. I honestly don't know how Australia will vote.

However, Damien does live but a suburb or two away from me, and we Inner Westies have to stick together so he will be getting my vote come Sunday week.

And let's face it, how funny would it be to have an Irish Australian Idol?!