Do The Movie Mash

A friend posted this on my facebook wall the other day:

As you may have already gathered, I had mixed feelings about this film.  Loved Aaron Tveit, hated Russell Crowe.  The usual stuff.

So of course this little piece of YouTube genius appealed to me on so many levels.  Kudos to the person(s) who made it.  I'm highly impressed.

What particularly impressed me (and inspired me) was the Forrest Gump reference at 0:37... so much so that I had to hit pause for a good three minutes whilst I snorted with laughter.  I snort with laughter on a fairly regular basis, but this in particular tickled me no end.  And got me thinking... imagine a Les Mis/Forrest Gump mash up! 

Yes, I can hear you groaning.  But just think about it.  The similarities between the two movies are definitely there...

Jean Valjean.  Overcomes adversity to become a successful businessman but harbours guilt and a yearning for something he cannot have.  Becomes involved with a woman who dies, leaving him in charge of (her) child.

Forrest Gump.  Overcomes adversity to become a successful businessman but harbours guilt and a yearning for something he cannot have.  Becomes involved with a woman who dies, leaving him in charge of (their) child.

And don't even get me started on the women... 

Fantine (no surname), who has a terrible history with abusive men, has a child out  of wedlock, turns to prostitution, falls ill and dies, leaving her child in the care of the man who tries to save her.

Jenny (no surname), who has a terrible history with abusive men, has a child out of wedlock, (doesn't necessarily turn to prostitution, but she had to pay for that drug habit somehow, so you do the math...), falls ill and dies, leaving her child in the care of the man who (always) tries to save her.

It's positively spooky how similar they are.

Also, think of the fun scenes you could mash up:

Every time Javert is chasing Valjean, Fantine could be there screaming "Run, Valjean, RUN!". 

When Forrest carries Bubba out of the jungle, he could sing "Bring Him Home" over his half-dead body.

Valjean could turn up somewhere in the south operating his own shrimping boat, with Marius, who lost his legs in the sewers (all those faeces caused infections) swinging from the mast and encourage Valjean to invest in a startup company which would make them millions.

Oh yeah. The possibilities are endless.  I'd TOTALLY watch that movie.

I'm going to go and plot some other movie mash ups now... this could be FUN.


1 May 2013

**** STOP THE PRESS!! ****

Have had a better idea on the shrimp boat concept...

Scrap Marius.  

Javert doesn't actually die (like he wants to) when he jumps off the bridge.  He does however smash his legs to bits so they have to amputate them. He spends years brooding some more and drinking and blaming Valjean for his troubles, but eventually joins Valjean on the shrimp boat, becomes his friend, encourages him to invest in the startup company which makes them millionaires and turns up years later with prosthetic legs and a lovely lady who accepts him just the way he is.

YEAH.  That's more like it. A Javert/Lieutenant Dan combo.

I'm on a roll here, people.

This Is Why I'm Clueless About New Music

I blame digital radio.

Specifically, I blame whoever introduced me (I think it was my friend Kane) to the app I downloaded to my phone, which allows me to listen to radio stations from around the globe at the drop of a hat (and a wifi connection).

Since I discovered this app and all the glorious radio stations available to me (about a year ago), I have barely listened to Triple J or Nova or RRR or any of the other radio stations which could conceivably introduce me to new music.  No.  Instead I listen to Non-Stop 80s Radio or Awesome 80s Radio or (my personal favourite) Movie Ticket Radio (Pop). 

All 80s. ALL THE FREAKING TIME. They play stuff I don't even have in my (extensive) music collection.  Now THAT'S impressive.

As for Movie Ticket Radio (Pop) (there is a Classic version, which I also listen to occasionally).  Well. WELL.  It is what is says.  Music featured in movies.  This covers everything from the awesome Jerry Orbach crooning Be Our Guest from Beauty and the Beast to Shirley Bassey's iconic Goldfinger from the James Bond movie of the same name to The Pixies' classic Where Is My Mind from Fight Club.  It's seriously awesome.

I spend most of my work-from-home time with one of these digital stations playing in the background - in fact Non-Stop 80s Radio is blaring out some classic A-ha number (not Take On Me - the other one they had about sun shining on televisions) as I type.

The only downside about listening to these stations, is that I am now utterly clueless when it comes to current music.  I could no more tell you the title of the latest Daft Punk song than I could hum the tune of anything by Rhianna.

As someone who prides herself on being fairly up with pop culture, I am somewhat embarrassed by this and I apologise profusely to those artists (particularly the local ones) trying to to break into the industry who rely on people like me listening to radio stations playing their music and then jumping onto iTunes to download their album.  

I'M REALLY SORRY AND I WISH YOU ALL THE LUCK IN THE WORLD, BUT I'VE BECOME ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE.

I'm just not listening to new stuff because the old stuff is just so freaking good.

Soz.

Some Days, There Just Aren't Enough GIFs

So, this morning I went on a little shopping expedition to Chadstone with a mate. I wanted to go to Gap for more boxers (see this post for a refresher) and since said mate has a couple of munchkins, she wanted to check out Gap Kids so I tagged along upstairs once I'd found what I needed.  

We didn't find anything for the munchkins, but our reaction to the discovery that a Gap Kids size XL is the perfect fit for the two of us, was something akin to this:

There was an entire wall of sale items, so I got the cutest sweater in the boys section for the bargain price of $14.25 (which for Gap is practically 90% off) and my mate picked up a polka-dot cardigan for about $25.  

Needless to say, we WILL be returning.  OFTEN.

So then I get home and they're putting up scaffolding around my block of flats in preparation for re-roofing.  Right around the whole building.  The banging of metal was annoying enough but to discover I've lost almost all the natural light in my study made me feel like this: 

Then I checked a few work emails.  One was from a colleague in Sydney and opened with the line "Thank you for offering to assist with...".

I had to physically step away from the keyboard to prevent myself from hitting the reply button and typing: "Just for the record, I NEVER OFFERED TO ASSIST YOU - MY BOSS JUST TOLD ME I HAD TO DO THIS - I WOULD'VE BEEN FIRED IF I'D SAID NO."

Because really, when it comes to adding to my (already quite heavy) workload, I feel mostly like this:

But then, that's mostly got to do with the fact that I don't want to do any aspect of my job right now and I'm getting increasingly desperate to find a new place to work.

So.  

That's a snapshot of my day in GIF form.  How was yours?

It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time...

My life is a series of "It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time" moments, all randomly strung together.

A bit like this blog.

There's so much I could write about.

So much I want to write about.

A million thoughts running through my head but they're all fleeting.  

I'm really hating my job at the moment and I want to change direction and find something new, but the job market's tough and I can't even get a foot in the door at any of the places I'm interested in working.

Life would be a lot easier if I had a definite plan for what I wanted to do.  

Trouble is, I don't.

I don't have a single clue WHAT I want to do with my life, other than that I DON'T want to do what I'm currently doing.

Is that any way to live my life? I'm really not sure. It's the only way I've known how to live it.  I’ve never been much of a one for ten year plans or goal setting.  I mean, I am ok at setting goals in a “hey, that sounds like a good idea so I’ll go do it” kind of way.  Heading off to travel the world was a prime example of that.  Quitting the corporate world to go to drama school was another.

But now I have to factor in things like being able to pay the rent and bills; and I don't have any savings to speak of, making my current desire to give a big, fat "fuck you" to my job an impossibility.

It's frustrating me no end and I'm really in need of a big ol' cup of "sort it the hell out" before I lose my mind...

Anyone know where I can get one of those?

Champagne Tastes, Beer Budget

I've always found that particular phrase slightly inappropriate in my case, since I dislike beer.  Really dislike it. I've tried it and I just can't stand it. I'm a grape girl through and through.

Anyway, that's not what this particular post is about.  Well it wasn't.  What was it about?  Ummmm... sidetracked. Sorry.  

OH!

My new coat.  I got the loveliest autumn/winter-ish coat last week.  It's a black Gap trench, with cream piping and a black lining with pink, blue, orange, green and white spots on it. It's light enough for autumn, but with a few layers underneath will be great for winter as well.  I've worn it most days since it got it.

I say "got it" and not "bought it", because I bought it online. 

On eBay.  Which is where I've bought a good many of my coats and jackets... and the odd frock.  

Why?

Because I am a girl on a budget.  A girl with designer tastes on a very strict budget.

So this is how I roll.  

One of my colleagues finds it quite horrifying that I buy some of my clothes secondhand. She won't wear anything that's been worn by someone else - says it's unhygienic.  I could see her point if I was purchasing secondhand underwear or shoes, but it's a coat.  I've had it cleaned.  I highly doubt I'm going to be catching any diseases from wearing it.

But if I do, at least I'll have saved money from the purchase to spend on antibiotics...

How Much Is That Puppy In The Window?

I think I want a puppy.

No.  

I'm CERTAIN I want a puppy.  I know some people may say this is related to the ticking of my biological clock, but I don't want a baby.  Babies grow up to be kids.  Kids talk back.  Kids grow up to be adults and don't always turn out the way you think they should. Kids are expensive. Dogs are too, but not so much.  And they're always genuinely glad to see you.  There's no angst with a dog.  

So yes, I want a puppy.

Not just any puppy, but a wee Westie.  

Like this one:

(cue "nawwwwww"-ing)

I love Westies.  They're they only small dog I actually like.  Most small dogs I dislike with the same dislike I reserve for cats.  I loathe cats.  I am totally in agreement with Ron Swanson when it comes to cats and small dogs (see below*).  But Westies I love.  I think it's some Scottish genetic thing. They just melt my heart.

However, I believe that dogs should be rescued, not bought from pet shops or puppy farms.  It breaks my heart that so many dogs are routinely abandoned or abused and that our animal shelters are overflowing with beautiful dogs that just want a home and some TLC. 

So I've vowed that when (note I say "when", not "if") I get a dog, it will be from a shelter, not a pet shop or puppy farm.  

The trouble is, who would abandon a cute-as-a-button Westie puppy?  Not many people.  I doubt many people would even abandon a cute-as-a-button Westie adult:

 (seriously, is it not the cutest puppy face ever?)

The other flaw in my plan is I'm not sure I'm allowed to have a dog in my flat.  One of my neighbours does but I'm not sure my lease allows is.  I'll have to check.  Also, I'm not sure it's fair to a dog to have to live in a flat. I always grew up being told that "dogs need a yard".  Since I don't plan on moving anytime soon, it may not happen.

But in the meantime, I'll keep on thinking about it... and checking the rescue websites (because, let's face it, if I was to actually walk into a shelter, I'd come out with a dozen dogs).

* COSIGN (except in the case of Westies):

Smack. Down.

This video has been doing the rounds of social media today.  Rightly so.  I refuse to post the revolting Letterman interview with Joan Rivers where she insults Adele, because I was so offended.

Adam Hills was clearly offended too.  His response is nothing short of brilliant.  I love a man who stands up for women in such a way.  His comment that "Adele is one of the very few women in pop music that I want my daughter to look up to" made me a little teary.  If only all fathers held these kinds of beliefs and instilled them in their daughters (and sons).  

Joan Rivers makes her living out of being offensive. I get that. But Adele should be applauded for her (well-deserved) success in an industry that objectifies women and treats the majority of them like mindless puppets. If I had daughters, Adele is exactly the type of woman I would want them to look up to.  Definitely not a Rhianna or a Miley Cyrus or a Taylor Swift.  And DEFINITELY not a Joan Rivers.  Women have a difficult enough time in the entertainment industry - she should be supporting Adele, not making fun of her weight.

So, Adam Hills - I applaud you.  Your daughter is one lucky girl and can only grow up to be an amazing woman, with a father like you to guide her.

Body Clockin'

My body clock is so out of whack.  I've just spent the last few days in Perth, where I worked 16 hour days (people think touring with rock bands is glamorous... oh, how little they realise) and then I spent today travelling back.  All day.  My flight was at 9.30am Perth time and landed 3.5 hours later, at 4pm Melbourne time. Then it took me an hour (and $90) in a cab to get home.  I was exhausted when I finally got home, but forced myself to stay awake and eat something so I wouldn't go to sleep at 7pm.  

That was a dumb idea.  

Now I've missed the window of going to sleep and have perked up again.  It's almost 1am (which is 10pm Perth time, I think) and my body has no idea what it's supposed to be doing.

Sigh.

So anyway.

Touring is actually quite a cool experience.

Fans can be scary in their obsession.  We had one woman in the KISS meet & greet who had Gene Simmons sign her breast, with the intention of going and having it tattooed over the next day.  

Yep.  Scary.

Fun facts I've discovered:  I'm taller than Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley, but Nikki Sixx and Tommy Lee tower over me.  Having a personalised 'Access All Areas' pass is extremely handy.  These are things I would never have experienced first-hand in an average 9-5 job. I have to keep telling myself that when I'm over-tired and annoyed at having to sit in my hotel room clipping lanyards at 1am.

OK, now I think I'm tired enough to get some sleep.

Rock on peeps.

\m/

Impervious

Today I am impervious.

Impervious to the sounds of the seven-thirty-pm-and-it's-almost-bedtime screaming of the toddlers in the flat two above mine; but not impervious to their hilarious chatter as they made their three-minute walk down the stairs this morning.  

Impervious to a Sydney colleague who (ever since I pushed back on his attempt to offload some of his workload on to our team) sent me a very rude email in which he tried to bait me into fighting with him over a truly trivial matter.

Impervious to the guy in the flat above mine as he washed his balcony (something he does at least three times a week), in which bucket loads of dirty water are sent cascading down onto my balcony, covering my BBQ and Kitty Lucy.  (The fact I've bought covers for them now has helped with being impervious.)

Impervious to the realisation that a get-together I'd scheduled weeks ago with a friend has not been postponed because she's got to work (like she claimed when she cancelled), but because she got a better offer from someone else. (Hey, if I'm not a priority in someone's life, I refuse to get all anxious about it any more.)

Impervious to the scales who informed me that my diet isn't going quite as well as I'd hoped.

Impervious to the lack of communication from a particular organisation on a particular matter which will affect so many things over the coming months... more to come on that topic at a later date.

So...

How are you today?

In MY world, that's what they're for.

Today I went on a mission to find some new work clothes. 

I'm about to go on tour for a few weeks with a couple of bands whose (male) members are quite well known for their love of (amongst the usual things like sex, drugs & rock'n'roll) spandex, platforms and makeup; and my current work wardrobe is getting a little threadbare.  The only work skirts I own are quite tight (I've gained a little weight) and are bordering on the short side.  Given I'm in charge of running the meet and greet for one of the bands (whose reputation for the ladies is, ummmm, a little... shall we say, legendary), I want to present a reasonably professional image.  I'll let their (female) fans take the dressed-to-score-impress route.  I just want to fade demurely into the background on this one.

Anyway. 

A plain black skirt.  Preferably cotton, knee-length, maybe with pockets.  Shouldn't be too difficult to find, right?

Right?

Wrong.

Fifteen stores later and I realise how very wrong I am.  

Not even Gap, my old standby for work clothes back in my US and UK days, yielded any joy.  On a side note, it drives me mental that we only have Gap here in Australia.  I'm gagging for them to open a Banana Republic and an Old Navy.  I'd never shop anywhere else but those three stores if they did.  

But I digress.  Despite Gap being disappointingly lacking in skirts in general, I did manage to stock up on tanks and tees.  I highly recommend Gap for tank tops and t-shirts. They're 100% cotton, excellent quality and come in a range of colours and styles.  I also stocked up on several pairs on men's cotton boxer shorts.  This is where I (apparently) caused a stir.  

I was dithering over sizes (see previous admission that I've gained a little weight) when a sales assistant jumped in and told me that I could "return them if they weren't the right size for my boyfriend".  My reply of "no - they're for me... I wear them to bed" was met with a reaction not dissimilar to this:

Now, let me explain.  I'm not a lacy nightie kinda gal.  Never have been.  Once I graduated from the "grandma-bought-me-new-pyjamas-for-my-birthday" stage, I usually just slept in old oversize t-shirts belonging to my brother or dad (both of whom were considerably taller and bigger than me).  I've always been quite low-maintenance in that regard.  I mean, I was a teenager.  I slept alone.  Who the hell (besides my family and the occasional bestie who came for a sleep-over) was going to see what I wore to bed?

Then I hit my twenties.  The first time I stayed over at my (then) boyfriend's place, I decided I needed something to wear the next morning while he made me breakfast, in case his flatmates wandered into the kitchen.  (I barely knew them, I didn't want them getting that good a look at me and the dress from the night before was going to scream "trashy-walk-of-shame-type-girl".)  A search through the boyfriend's rather meagre wardrobe revealed very few oversized t-shirts (we were of a similar size... that is, he was a short, scrawny kinda guy, so his t-shirts barely covered my ass), but he did happen to have a drawer full of cotton boxer shorts.  I borrowed a pair, grabbed a t-shirt, discovered what a comfy outfit it was and have worn boxers and old, [insert-name-of-favourite-band]-neck-and-sleeves-cut-off t-shirts to bed ever since.  When I'm not sleeping naked of course.

Incidentally, I've found that most of my boyfriends have found this quite the turn-on.  Only one has ever bought me a lacy, skimpy, Victoria's Secret-style nightie to wear and it not only looked terrible on me, but was really uncomfortable to sleep in, so I ditched it. And him.

Now usually, when I'm in need of a new pair of boxers, I nick them from whichever man I'm dating at the time, but since I: (a) haven't dated in a while; and (b) haven't dated a guy who wears cotton boxer shorts for even longer, I've been forced into actually purchasing them myself.  Hence the incident at Gap.  

You see, Gap boxer shorts are of a highly superior quality.  This I have ascertained over the years.  They're my preferred brand.  So, if I'm going to buy them, I'll go to Gap.  This was never an issue in the US and the UK - they're totally across my theory.  However, the Australian Gap sales assistants are seemingly ignorant of the fact that their men's cotton boxer shorts make excellent sleepwear for the ladies.  

Not any more.

At least not for cashier #5771 at Gap Melbourne Central.  No. She adopted my suggestion of men's-boxers-as-female-sleep-attire so enthusiastically that I'm pretty sure she's going to re-style several of the mannequins to illustrate her point.  She pointed out the concept no less than three times to her colleagues and other customers while I was still in the store... I shudder to think how many people she told once I'd walked out.  I'd even hazard a guess that she took a few pairs home for herself to test out my theory that you really cannot get anything more comfortable to sleep in. 

I'm glad I inspired someone today, even if was only on something as trivial as sleepwear. 

Now, if only a designer could inspire me with a decent skirt.