Tuesday, January 30, 2007

stupid wonderings

Is everything that happens in your life a result of your actions and reactions?
Is there such a thing as chance or fate?
What makes someone unworthy to love?
Is there a formula?
Are some people born unlovable or is it something you grow into?
Is there even such a thing as 'unlovable?'
What about if your parents don't 'love you' or you were mistreated in some way?
Why does that happen to some kids and not others?
Is it because those kids are unlovable, even though they're kids?
Are some people destined to be nothings and other people destined to be all things?

I don't know what triggered these thoughts really - but I'd like to hear your thoughts. Be brutally honest - that's okay. I don't even care if you answer as an anon or email if you want. I'm just wondering what you think - no big discussion...

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Monday, January 29, 2007

a freckle on the nose of life's complexion

I have always used music as an escape, or as a friend. I think music sneaks in where nothing else can or does - including other humans. You don't have to worry about music dumping you, rejecting you for being too 'difficult', criticising you or having too many expectations. Music is whatever you want it to be. But there is probably one type of music that I have used an escape more than any other and that is musical theatre. I know it's dorkish but I've never come across any genre of music that has as much soul, pain, happiness, excitement and storyline as the humble musical does (except maybe country). I can't think of any kind of music that embraces the "different" and "downtrodden" and "dreamers" like musical theatre does.

Any emotion ANY SITUATION, you can guarantee that there is a whole story set to music on or off broadway that will feature it. Any problem you have, anything you can leave it backstage, you can mask it, you can cover it over for 2 hours while the leading lady sings because the show must always go on. Musicals are like that - why do you think so many fucked up people take refuge in them? If you think the punk rockers with their heroin overdoses are tragic you have another thing coming - they fall apart on the front cover of New Idea while they 'live it up' with money and groupies - but a fucked up star of musical theatre really does it in true tragic style - they know how to mask their pain and just get on with things - never mind the scratching growling monster in the closet. I admire it - I can identify with it.

You can put people who love musicals into three categories

1) those who know pain and want to forget about it.
2) those who are different from the mainstream.
3) those who want to be a star.

Usually there is a crossover - but not always.

I'm a big fan of so many other kinds of music but sometimes I don't want to take refuge in those unreachable images of girls/boys who are too beautiful or who are carbon copies of each other or are so far removed from reality to truly be human. Musical girls are funny looking, usually gawky, have gone through shit and then triumph brilliantly. They are utterly human even if the situation is extraordinary.

Calamity Jane, impossible right? Nein, she was real but more importantly who the hell hasn't gone through feeling like they're just a clumsy unattractive friend when surely it was meant to be love? Sally Bowles in Cabaret - another impossibility right? Well, she's fucked up, lonely and falls for a gay boy - sounds like an everyday occurrence to me. Fraulein Maria? from The Sound of Music She was real, but again you don't have to be a nun to know what it's like to feel inadequate and nervous and be scared of love (and Nazis for that matter). Take any girl in any musical and you know the core is real. That is something I can access. What better way to forget you're in the shit when you can share the pain with someone who is going through it too?

My #1 choice of song to play today is "Maybe this Time" by Liza Minelli from Cabaret. When I first heard it I felt like someone had put me into a song. It's also beautifully sung with just the right amount of desperation from Liza (what a voice!). Of course, castpost is still on the blink so I can't upload it from my collection and I can't find it on radio blog club (very infuriating). Look it up, it's a great song. The next choice was "Don't Rain on My Parade" by Barbara Streisand from Funny Girl, for the opposite reason. Another favourite - which I couldn't access either. My third choice is "And I am Telling You, I'm not Going" by Jennifer Holliday from Dreamgirls. This was the grammy winning version from the original broadway cast performance of Dreamgirls. Talk about desperation - if this song doesn't strike any kind of chord with you I'm sorry but there must just be something wrong with you. :P

And I Am Telling you I am Not Going - Jennifer Holliday

And for something more traditionally "musical theatre" - extremely amusing, strong, sexy, catchy and glamorous.

Mein Herr - Liza Minelli (Cabaret)


Sunday, January 28, 2007

Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily

I haven't been having any school based anxiety dreams lately but even the ones I have are thinly veiled disguises of angst.

In my dream last night I was down at the beach with my friend L. We were staying at her holiday house. It was a cold and already dark out but we decided to take a walk when we came across a sign that said there was a ferry leaving for Tasmania in 20 minutes. We decided that since we had never been to Tassie that it would be fun to go, stay the night and then come back late the next day. When we got there the port was busy with people who like us had decided at the last minute. Noone had any luggage. We waited for the ferry but it never came. The "captain" emerged from his office a few hours later and told us that we'd have to ride on plastic and polystyrene meat trays to Tassie instead. So we were all ushered into the ocean where we had to precariously balance our behinds on meat trays - with minimal movement they only just floated. I kept thinking how are we going to make it? and started panicking. Everyone else was jolly, happy and excited about it (of course) while I was freaking out. I didn't understand why no one else saw the dangers of sailing the turbulent seas (or the Strait as it may be) on a meat tray. Are people crazy?

Then the skies opened up and it started raining. People started sinking and the captain decided that we should set sail the next day instead. Fine by me - I was still hoping the ferry would turn up! So we all abandoned our sinking meat trays and found shelter in a big hall. Inside it was warm, cosy and everyone relaxed into having a fun time - people were playing charades or card games or just talking. It felt like school camp when it rains and instead of going on the night hike to see the glow bugs you have to have an inside playtime at the hall. There were a couple of bloggers there but we didn't talk.

The next day I felt that familiar dread again as we headed back to the port for our trip to Tassie. Somehow instead of a meat tray I scored a pillow! It was a latex one so it floated okay. It was sunny and warm and I was feeling a bit better about the whole trip now. A meat tray was impossible but a pillow I could do. Nicole Kidman turned up (fashionably late) and was given a meat tray - she couldn't float for shit. Then just as I was beginning to feel comfortable bro came along and pushed me under.

Alphabet Meme (stolen from tits list:

A- Available or single? spinster.
B- Best Friend? a few - maybe E or #1 or bro.
C- Cake or Pie? I made a killer spinach and ricotta pie (yes I MADE it, from SCRATCH and it was GOOD) but I still pick cake because I love cake.
D- Drink of Choice? At the moment it's chocolate milkshakes.
E- Essential Item? laptop. I quite pathetically can't live without it.
F- Favorite Color? crimson and other deviations from and around that.
G- Gummi Bears or Worms? bears.
H- Hometown? Melb
I- Indulgence? chocolate
J- January or February? January (February is filled with too much school and not enough holidays).
K- Kids? Guappo my fake adopted Somalian child.
L- Life is incomplete without? a morning cuppa (yeahyeah okay LOVE... probably).
M- Marriage Date? HAHAHAHHAHA
N- Number of Siblings? bro.
O- Oranges or apples? when they are in season and are really juicy orange, definitely.
P- Phobias/Fears? spiders, dentist (argh), snakes. I've also developed a tiny bit of agoraphobia it's very slight but as much as I love them sometimes I'd just rather not look at wide open spaces. I've also developed this anxiety about the phone. I very rarely call people and when I do it has to be for a good reason and it takes me about 3 or 4 tries to actually dial the number. I have NO IDEA where this came from.
(hm, just re-read over that and realise what a complete nutter I sound like).
Q- Favorite Quote? “Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” (Neil Gaiman)
R- Reason to Smile? a dream, a thought..
S- Season? Autumn.
T- Tag three people! you.
U- Unusual Talent or Skill? I can bend forward without bending my legs and put both palms flat on the floor ...and some. Hardly a talent or skill though. lol.
V- Vegetable? pretty much anything roasted. mmm.
W- Worst Habit? I will not put things away until I'm good and ready to do so (this could take up to a month).
X- X-Rays? teeth (did I mention I'm terrified of the dentist?), ankle, chest (when they couldn't figure out why I kept having "asthma" attacks and then fainting. THAT was fun), head (sinus), girl stuff (that was REALLY fun).
Y- Yummy Foods I Make: um, the cooking gene did not cross the womb for some reason.
Z- Zodiac Sign: Aries: yes, yes challenging and infuriating people since 1978.

In other (amusing) news:

You could see this one coming. Would you worship the sceptre of Cruise like Katie does? Well then there's only one place left to go with this revelation. Must I be the first to say it?



Friday, January 26, 2007

our home is girt by sea

The thing about Australia Day is that I'm always left wondering what it means to be 'really Australian' - and if there really is such a definition. Do we look to our international perception? Kangaroo pet keeping, 'this is a knife' quoting, beach going, blond/e, always tanned, ocker colloquialism saying, unable to speak or understand other languages, beer guzzling, cricket loving, laid back rednecks who surf. This may or may not be true, in fact as I was writing it I recognised that despite the fact that I don't know anyone who owns a kangaroo every other stereotype is more or less true - ...and also more or less false. We all know some people who are like that and also people who defy that stereotype while still maintaining their Australianess.

How do you pigeon hole a nation that is always completely at odds with itself? A nation that is always trying so hard to define what it is, and always trying to set boundaries and limits as to what it means to be Australian and un-Australian but always falling short?

Maybe we should define ourselves not by how other see us but how we see ourselves - meat eating, good wine drinking, educated, good humoured, in many cases bi-lingual, sun-kissed beach going, animal loving, accepting, politically aware and continental. But that too is problematic - not all of us see ourselves that way and many of us reject many of those things as unAustralian.

Is it about the piece of paper or passport that proves you are Australian? Or is it knowing the words to the national anthem (does anyone know the second verse?)? Or is it a feeling? A pedigree? A skin colour? All of those things? None of them?

As part of our celebrations of Australia Day Tim Flannery was awarded "Australian Of the Year". I'm reading his book "We are the Weather Makers" at the moment and wondering about our Australianess. Maybe it doesn't matter how we see ourselves or how others see us but where we are going in the future? What will Australia be like in the future? Already we're seeing how irresponsible we have been regarding environmental factors - will our whole culture and society change in order to facilitate change for the better or will things get worse? In 50 years are our 'young and free' children going to be able to get a suntan, while BBQing fresh meat on the beach as they're taking in the backdrop of our abundant and strange flora and fauna - or are these the things we're taking for granted that will be around forever? Does Australianess depend on Australia; the land itself? If the land is deteriorating then what will our culture be like in the future?

But it's not all bad yet, is it? There will be much consumption of good food, and good laughs shall be had today as we take in the rays as we celebrate ourselves.

What is your impression of Australia?


Tuesday, January 23, 2007


* In the last week in Melbourne three men have been apprehended for filming up women's skirts. One made a long term career of it on various trams in Melbourne (no job, used the dole to purchase a MET card). Two others were discovered doing the same at the Australian Open tennis. For fucks sake - what is the big attraction? I can understand wanting to look at the vag of someone you're actually a chance with, but randoms? Let me tell you, when plumbers crack is involved I LOOK AWAY IN HORROR! Meanwhile, men are filming crack! Is there any hope for humanity at all?

* Hillary Clinton is IN! Boy do I wish I could vote. She's a smart lady and I love the idea of Bill Clinton being the first lady (what would they call him?). The other guy looks much too young to run his own lemonade stand let alone a country, but hell who knows? Can the US get the stick out of its arse and ever vote for a female president or a black one for that matter? If Australia was in the same position I'd unfortunately say that a woman would stand NEXT TO NO CHANCE. As for a black person - well, there are so many aboriginal members of parliament aren't there? We really should be ashamed.

* I caught up with #2 and R for lunch yesterday. R is only a few weeks away from giving birth and was talking about how her husband doesn't want her to have an epidural because he doesn't want a cone head child (there was some lame reasoning behind this). Say what? R told him where to go. Let me tell you, they have not yet invented the kind of hardcore drugs that I would take during labour. THE BABY GOES THROUGH THE VAGINA! Jesus christ.

* I'm starting to panic about going back to school next week. Really panic. I'm not ready for the exhaustion and mental drain that is the nature of teaching. Sometimes I feel like I'm putting on a suit of armor every morning when I get up for work and fighting off the masses. I guess people really don't understand how difficult it can be unless you've actually given it a go. There's a lot I love about teaching, but sometimes I wish I had other talents or qualifications that would allow me the option of doing something different for a while just so I could compare.

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Monday, January 22, 2007

I fell in love with you before the second show

I've been skirting around this one for too long and so it's time to come clean. I am a Carpenters fan.

A big one.

Last week I wrote about Janis Joplin and my friend M who introduced me to her. Around the same time M and I were both introduced to The Carpenters via our Human Development (the wankiest subject since Home Ec. I would have taken anything over maths!) teacher Mrs H. Mrs H was most probably the slackest teacher I've ever had in my life. By slack - I mean she set work at the beginning of the lesson and then spent the rest just sort of talking to us about our dates or boyfriends or whatever. Um, I didn't learn very much BUT I did discover The Carpenters.

The topic we were learning about was Eating disorders. I already knew a shitload about eating disorders - I had read everything I could get my hands on by the time I was 15. I knew about 6 close friends who had either anorexia or bulimia. That's just off the top of my head. I think most people know at least one girl who has had an eating disorder of some kind in their life. Or if not they know someone who has starved themselves in the short term in order to lose weight. It's an epidemic.

Anyway, we didn't really get any literature about Eating Disorders to read from Mrs H - instead she showed us the movie The Karen Carpenter Story 3 times. Not exactly too informative about the disorder itself but if the exam had been about Karen and Richard we would have aced that shit! To be fair, she only meant to show it once but the class (17 girls and 2 boys) begged her until she showed it again and again (the boys were in agony - it was hilarious). The entire class, geek, dork, slut, cool, goth whatever - all pretty much became fans of The Carpenters. We all sang along with the songs while swaying to the music.

M and I really took the fandom to dizzying heights though. I can't believe I'm admitting this but once the movie was on at midday on a school day and I wagged the day off school just so I could tape it! Some kids wag and go for a smoke in the city while playing video games in Russel Street - not me - I wagged for The Carpenters. I'm so glad I don't know any of you in real life. The shame would be too great for me to actually look any of you in the eye.

There was no turning back. I bought a CD of their greatest hits and I played it so many times that I knew every word of every song within a couple of days. E found a tape of The Carpenters in her garage during a clean out and she gave it to me so I could dub it. Then her younger sister (who, I think must have idolised me a bit - god knows why) got into them as well and compliments of compliments used to scratch I <3 The Carpenters into the desks at school and then would tell me about the graffiti. Take into account that this was in the mid 90s when grunge and brit pop was all the rage. I was so proud!

Why do I like The Carpenters? Firstly, I was interested in Karen Carpenter and her struggle with Anorexia and how her relationship with her family influenced that. Secondly, I like the brother and sister duo thing. Thirdly(and most importantly), her voice is simply beautiful, smooth, soulful and sad. It takes me somewhere else - a nice place.

There were so many songs I wanted to share here. Castpost isn't working and I couldn't find the songs I wanted to share from radioblogclub. If things had gone to plan I would have added Superstar, Eve, A Song for You and We've Only Just Begun but in the same year that I discovered The Carpenters my dad died. There was only one song that I could listen to for a while:

Rainy Days and Mondays - The Carpenters

Also, for those who can't quite stand the sound of The Carpenters, just to prove to you that really cool bands love them too: A compilation album came out about 12 or so years ago called If I Were A Carpenter. On it bands like Sonic Youth, Babes in Toyland, Redd Kross, Cracker, Grant Lee Buffalo do covers of their favourite Carpenters songs. I love Babes In Toyland's cover of Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft but for my money you can't go past:

Superstar - Sonic Youth


Sunday, January 21, 2007


I used to have dreams where my father would come back from the dead. In the dreams there was always the threat that if I brought up the death to him he would disappear again. I guess there was always a feeling of impending doom on the horizon - which is how I felt before he died anyway to tell you the truth. But apart from that there was a sense of elation in the dream - like we had cheated the system somehow. These dreams always felt so real and now that I don't have them anymore (or haven't had one in a good year anyway), I miss them. I always thought of then as my dad coming back and saying hello. Sometimes you get desperate and anything will do, you know? There is one thing I've discovered though, you can't cheat the system.

I was pretty astounded when I realised that the movie Volver, explored similar themes to my own dreams. I didn't know what the movie was about before I went to see it - the preview was unclear - but E, L and I decided to give it a go anyway. It was a great film, not just for Penelope's rather magnificent rack but just because it was interesting to see an almost all female ensemble of varying ages in a film that was as quirky as it was touching. Afterwards, E, L and I had our post-movie discussion that happened to center around E's group of male work mates.

You'd be hard pressed to find a bigger group of mean spirited blokes who do nothing more than perve on women and laugh about how badly they treat them. The stuff that I've heard these guys say about women I would have a really hard time repeating to anyone without blushing and I'm not even prudish when it comes to that kind of stuff! But yeah, following jailbait around, cheating on their girlfriends, commenting that size 10 women are too fat (I thought this was a joke because you always hear that crap that men are easier on women's bodies than women themselves are ..but obviously not! geez) and so much more.

Well, I thought that kind of stuff was just exhibited by a minority ...yes that's what I thought until I was dutifully informed that most men are actually like that and as E and L were both confirming this I thought about other things I had heard.. But surely this can't be true. I don't really have a lot of male friends (maybe it's the fact that I do tend to have an opinion about things), and I do know that while I've never been accused of thinking that men are princes (hahhahahahhah - probably the opposite actually) I have always expected that there are quite a few out there in the scary world of sexist pigs who can be kind, loving and are faithful. I have also been informed (by men!) that expecting those things is expecting too much. Excuse my ignorance here but aren't those basic traits that we'd expect of all humans? - So if that is "expecting too much" from men then doesn't that say something not too nice about that male species?

So, E if the majority men are like this then why are we WITH them?
E thought about it for a moment.
'We want babies, not just babies - we want families* - and we'll settle just to get it.

*obviously not all women actually want those things - but still, the dickhead factor is still running rampant there too!

Do women settle more than men?

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Friday, January 19, 2007

always about the rain

You can't figure out whether it's the gentle whir of the fan in the room or patter of the rain outside that wakes you up. You lay there for a moment waiting for the grogginess of sleep to wear away while you make up your mind about it. Rain, definitely. The pillows are a little too warm and the room a stuffy reminder of the summer that has so far been just a little too uncomfortable. The fan air swirls over your body but it does little to refresh.

You gather yourself and pad along barefoot to the back door and press your forehead against the screen door watching the light shower outside wash away the stifling sunburn of the past few days. But it's still warm and there's already a film of dew over your shoulders. Coffee, you think would wake you up - give the neurons something to shout about. You drink it while watching the grey clouds drop their precious load over the city. As a child you remember despairing if it rained on the summer holidays but these are desperate times. Now you're smiling over the top of your cup as the morning air plays with the ends of your thin pajama bottoms. Rain on a Friday morning - it's been a while since that happened. It's going to be a good day.


Thursday, January 18, 2007

the baby inferiority complex

I'm starting to get a baby inferiority complex.

Many of my good girlfriends are scooping poo out of the bathtub (true), about to give birth, just pregnant, trying to get pregnant or thinking about getting pregnant within the next 2 years. It's enough to give a single girl with an empty womb (that sounds a bit gross - sorry) a bit of a complex. Do I want children one day? Absolutely, but it would be nice to have a love of my life to go with it rather than a turkey baster (haha). I've just realised I'm at that age where everyone around me seems to be having babies and I have..um..I have my blog baby! It's a bit of a worry.

Then there are the changes...

I was speaking to my friend F on the phone today and she spent 80% of the conversation talking to baby J. Now I love baby J, he's gorgeous and wiggly but hey, I'm on the phone..hellooooo. HELLOOOOOO! I'm here too! We used to have conversations about the meaning of life. Now they're about baby poop. Despite lack of child, I can carry a baby poop conversation pretty well - but I don't want to talk about that constantly. Then I realised that when #1 has her baby (soon) and S finally admits she's preggers (we all know, she's being very obvious without saying anything), then in 9 months our meetings for coffee and the like are going to be a bit on the awkward side for me. I love babies and let's face it, in many ways they're probably a lot nicer than adults but wow, I don't know if I can do the baby thing EVERY time (where mum goes, baby goes - after my friends have given birth I've never seen them without child ever again). I feel a bit selfish for worrying about these things. I'm just going to have to get over it...

In other news E is excited because the dog breeder called her with a puppy on reserve! Oh boy, I *really* can't get away from it, can I?


Tuesday, January 16, 2007

movies, women and a meme.

#1 and I got together for a very early morning movie session for tight arse Tuesdays at the cinemas today. It's 39 degrees C today in our fair city so we really wanted to be in air conditioned comfort instead of sweating like pigs in the fiery pits of hell (anywhere else). We saw the movie Babel. It was excellent - thought provoking, well acted, beautiful script - a winner for sure. In terms of performance you simply cannot go past Helen Mirren as The Queen in The Queen. That was some of the most amazing acting I've seen in forever - but story wise Babel has it all over The Queen. Let's hope they both get some kind of gong at the Golden Globes.

I'm very much looking forward to seeing Dreamgirls, which travesty of travesties has STILL not been screened here. I've been hanging out for it since I fist caught the trailer a couple of months ago. And I Am telling You, I'm Not Going is a killer song - a favourite of mine (I know I say that a lot) - and I can't hear it without getting tingles up my spine and a bit emotional (god, it's so pathetic). You can already tell that Jennifer Hudson is going to shit all over that bloody Beyonce in the movie. Yes, yes Beyonce, we all know you're bootylicious - you won't let us (or Destiny's Child) forget it - but let's move over for the real talent for once, mmky?

Anyway, #1 and I were musing afterwards at our post movie lunch fest about women who give dickheads a second chance. A friend of hers has recently taken back a known cheater, abuser and drug user - even after declaring that she would never date him again (after the last time). Why are women such pussies? Do we really have such low self worth that we will take ANYONE on? Surely being alone with a litter of cats is way preferable to regular sex with someone who is probably sleeping around! Why do we have such low standards when it comes to men? Do we think we can make them better? Do we like a challenge? Are we masochists?

I don't know a whole lot of men who are willing to give freakshow women a second go, but I know plenty of women who insist the old myth is true ie: they've changed. Listen, they never change do they? I've never actually come across a dickhead who has changed into a prince. I have come across couples who do not work together - where they are both dickheads while together and when they're with different people they become remotely human - but as for changing for one person? Nope. Is there something I'm not seeing in this? Why do we do it?

And last but not least - I was tagged by Ant

5 facts - one of them is false.

#1 - When I was 9 or so, Bro and I used to have a radio show called Double Plop and Triple Plop. Basically they would come out of the toilet to save the world. Each episode was a masterpiece of cultural learning. We talked into a cassette recorder to record our voices on tape. Then we'd play it back on high speed dubbing and literally laugh until we peed our pants. There were lots of poo jokes in it.

#2 - When I was 19 I was on a plane flight where I sat in front of Australian faux punk band The Living End. I accidentally flashed one of them while on the way back from the toilet.

#3 - In year 9 I had a friend that would shoplift regularly. Twice she convinced me to do it, that it was easy and that I was dumb if I didn't! On one adventure I stupidly stole a deck of playing cards with naked men sporting erections on it. It was a dare. Mum found them in my room. She's very Catholic. That wasn't a good day in our household.

#4 - I used to do tarot readings for my friends. I was shit, but it was fun.

#5 - When we were kids Bro and I would play superheroes quite regularly - we were obsessed. He had a superman cape and I used to steal it and demand to be Superman and make him be my sidekick. I also used to make him give me pony rides. Obviously I was completely fucked up.

Sooo, one of them is a lie - do you know which? Do you care? I'm not going to tag anyone because the last time I did one of these memes I tagged people who just did NOT play!

EDIT - The Answers - I'm just going to put them here for convenience


#1 - True: Bro and I did indeed have our own radio show called Double Plop and Triple Plop. We were OBSESSED with it. Actually we became obsessed with taping anything, including our parents fighting. I remember one time we taped mum and dad yelling at eachother and then played it back for them. Boy were they embarrassed.

#2 - True - Ha, you non-believers yes I am clumsy enough to accidentally flash dumb rockers! I was coming back from the toilet and had to walk past their seats to get to mine. Then I sat down. That's all that happened.. BUUUT, when girls sit down in their chairs and they're wearing a skirt they smooth the skirt down before they sit. I went to smooth my skirt down but oh..wait..fabric strangely missing and omg tucked into back of knickers! I did not go to the toilet again.

#3 - True - Ha again! To answer your question Phil it was at Knox City Shoppo (bogan capital) - which I don't think I've ever been to since! I can't remember the name of the store but it was one of those variety ones that sells sex stuff AND other novelty stuff. Anyway, the cards were on this glass shelf with all the other sex toys and of course there we were, young as anything just standing in front of it. Not suss at all! Anyway, my friend dared me to take the cards and so I did. The images on those cards are BURNED into my brain, let me tell ya. There was this one with a guy straddling a chair backwards and his ..oh my GOD! Mum was saying the rosary that night.

#4 - True. I did indeed used to do tarot readings for my friends. I had this deck of cards (it was a greek mythology deck) and E and L were my main customers. I'd write their predictions down in a scrap book. Of course, did I keep the book? Nooo, that probably would have been the smart thing to do. I was utterly shit at it and would be looking up the books every time I turned a card over. ooo mystical. I don't touch them any more but I do have a deck of Vertigo Tarot - which has characters from the comic book The Sandman on them by one of my favourite artists - Dave McKean. It's a beautiful deck.

#5 - FALSE. Saru and Sarah. I think you two were the only ones who got it. Saru - EXACTLY. Superman didn't have a sidekick. Plus, I wanted to MARRY superman not BE him. Bro and I played superheroes a lot and he did have a cape. But I was ever superman. I was WONDERWOMAN of course! I made myself a little crown and cuffs out of silver card and then I'd get my skipping rope (golden lasso of truth) and make bro stand there while I practiced lassoing him! I'm sure he had so much fun. To throw you all off track though I added that last bit in about pony rides. yes, I did make bro give me pony rides. So that bit was true. Like I said though - fucked up.

hehe, this was fun. Saru and Sarah you win...um..nothing except the knowledge that you kicked everybody elses arses! woo

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Monday, January 15, 2007

one of these mornings, you're going to rise up singing

There's something about her that either promotes ear blocking or swaying while in a zombie like trance. I'm of the latter persuasion.

Janis Joplin, unconventional, controversial, bluesy, emotional, heart-wrenchingly troubled Janis. Often criticised for not being feminine enough, for having a voice that wasn't sweet like honey bees, for not having silky coiffed hair, for not being what a woman 'should' be but that just make me like her all the more. Girls, we are all too willing to sit in the box and happily request the lid goes on tight - then when someone who doesn't fit the image comes along we ridicule her for being too...something (anything, it doesn't even matter what!). Sometimes I despair about us..

Any really great woman has felt the sting of criticism for not being womanly enough. Quite frankly folks, if people are going to be uncomfortable about a certain type of women because she unwillingly (or unwittingly) challenges the notion of femininity then that's a certain type of woman I want to get to know. It means she's dangerous - and that's important in this day and age of the plastic fantastic.

But I digress, Janis. My friend M actually introduced me to Janis' music - when we were both in year 11 and obsessed with The Carpenters (another MM I bet you can't wait! ha). I hadn't heard much about Janis beyond the typical and so M used to do impressions of her in class for me - funny since M was nothing like Janis; blonde, cute, radiating sweetness but also... hilarious, in a physical comedy, complete dag, not afraid to look stupid kind of way. I love people who are surprising.

Not long after that I saw the Woodstock movie and was totally enchanted. That was it for me. God love her.

Probably one of my favourite renditions of one of my all time favourite songs is one done by Janis of Summertime (yes the Gershwin song from Porgy and Bess). I've heard many a version of the song. The Sarah Vaughan version is magnificent, Nina Simone's is thoughtful and the Fantasia Barrino (from American Idol) version is beautiful and there are so many more renditions of it floating around. That's the mark of a good song - when it can be covered beautifully so many times. But the mark of a good artist is one that respects the dynamic of the song while making it their own. For me, Janis Joplin's Summertime is a masterpiece. She put something in there that made it heartbreaking to listen to and somehow both fragile and strong at the same time. Maybe not everyone's cup of tea, but I think it's glorious.

Summertime - Janis Joplin


Friday, January 12, 2007

the wrap up

I went. I saw. I'm back.

While gone, I was a bit afraid of missing my little blanky (this journal) and all the loveliness that goes with it (you guys) and I did. I've always been able to at least check email if "away" in the past and not being able to do that was like losing my right leg. But you know, in between the wine, the sun, the waves, the afternoon snoozes and the vodka, I survived. I feel - refreshed and ....excited. I don't really know what about - but there's this little tingle in my belly somewhere (let's hope it's not gastro).

While away I kept a little mini journal of my own. I shall share with you some excerpts (crap excuse for an entry I'm know).


Elated when I realise that I can take a shower outside in amongst the native grasses and serene surroundings of a landscaped garden. I immediately indulge myself while looking over my shoulder for the cheeky neighbourhood boys looking over the fence. No one is looking though. hmph!

Later, went for a leisurely walk down at the local beach (local for surfies, that is). I stood at the peak of the hill and looked down at the waves thrashing against the shore before making my way down. It's a little difficult navigating the sand dunes and grasses. Down below I watch the surfers from a closer vantage point and take a little stroll (read: stumbling near the shoreline, sinking into sand while waves crash against skirt getting it wet). The sea is truly a majestic beast - it fills my ears and my heart. I love this.

Three quarters of an hour later I hate this. I am strongly considering stabbing myself in the heart just so I don't have to face the pain of making it back to the car. My trek back consists of me clutching at the whethered fence posts every 3 meters like they are life preservers while I curse the Gods and breathe out the stitch in my side. Who knew walking up sandy hills could be so difficult? I consider crawling back to the car but that would be too embarrassing, besides there is a now a crowd gathering in the parking lot looking down in my general direction. I think one of them is pointing at me - oh god. I now know how Burke and Wills felt while on their epic journey. Maybe I could just live here..right here, on the shore. I'm sure I could build myself a little hut out of...um. hm. After what seems like forever I make it back to the car and sit (standing is too difficult) there a while looking down at the waves again. It couldn't have been more than a km up and back. I suck.

I have dinner at 11pm, after I realise that no, the stove doesn't work unless I actually turn it on first. I'm famished.


It's cold. I knew one cardy wouldn't cut it. Curse you four damn toiletry bags, when ideally I should have brought a winter coat instead!

Outside it is raining and torrential winds are blowing. I hope the house doesn't get blown down. How would I explain that? Obviously it's going to be an inside playtime. I examine the CDs left here for my use. The Ambient Sounds of Panpipes... Fuck me. I put the ipod on and listen to The Village People. Luckily some of us have taste!

For the first time in as long as I can remember my soul smiles - this is good. I feel...content.


Another school anxiety dream - something about problems with staff relations. It's 8.30am, I roll over and sleep 'till ten. Then a bath with face scrubs, face masks and other related relaxing things. Afterwards my skin feels smooth. I know it has little to do with the products and more to do with being totally relaxed.

I turn on the news and laugh at Tigger punching someone's lights out at Disneyland. Finally the Disney animals fight back. I groan, hearing of the news about a possible reconciliation between Shane and Simone Warne. Woman, have a little self respect - you should be putting prawns in his curtain rods not offering him any chances. This guy is a Loser with a capital L.

Outside the sun is playing hide and seek behind the clouds. I bring a soft blanket outside and arrange it on the ground so that lying down I can't even see the house. It feels like I've left civilisation behind. In a way I have. It would be night to get a slight tan but the sun keeps disappearing every 2 minutes. I guess not.

Two hours later I'm staring at a human impression of a beetroot in the bathroom mirror. I am actually generating my own heat. I could service a small third world village withe the amount of heat coming off my shoulders. I locate the vitamin E cream and use practically a whole tube on my shoulders alone. Sleeping will be an issue.


Time to explore beyond the beaches. I go to a local landmark. I survey the gentle sloping boardwalk from the top of the hill to the crashing waves below. Sure, there are a few stairs but I look around me and see a few older people comfortably laughing and carrying on while they make their journey down. Piece of cake.

Few stairs? Hundreds of stairs - maybe even thousands. I was lapped by an 80 year old and her husband (I think he had an iron lung too). Bastards.


There's a mouse! I think it might be trying to kill me with it's beady little eyes and twitchy paws. I saw it while I was eating dinner and it saw me at the same time - we stared at each other before I squealed and jumped on the chair I was sitting on. Meanwhile he gave me that "I kill you! I kill you and you whole family!" look (in my imagination the mouse has a Mexican accent). I retaliated in true menacing style by doing an 'ewwwww ohmygodohmygodohmygod dance' while balancing on the chair. Then it disappeared into the bushes - no doubt to gather an army of little foreign mice that will kill me while I sleep. I threw a chip into the bushes after it, in hopes of placating it. Please don't kill me Mr Mouse! I will pay you in homemade chips if you just leave me alone!

I just thought of something. Where there's mice, there's.....snakes! OH FUCK!


This morning I fell asleep in the sun while reading. Somehow, when I was asleep I must have bowed my chin downwards towards my chest. Now I have a delightfully sun kissed face, rosy shoulders, rosy umm..stuff and a TOTALLY WHITE NECK! I look like a zebra. I am so embarrassed. I'm going to have to walk around with my head bowed forward like some slave girl. Oh horror. I've heard of red necks but for fucks sake does shit like this happen to anyone else?

At least when the redness dies down I'm going to have a tiny bit of a tan though. This is good.


I wake up today and look in the bathroom mirror. A tiny bit of tan indeed...

I look like fucking George (LEATHER FACE) Hamilton!

And there you have the holiday.


Thursday, January 04, 2007

up up and away in my beautiful balloon

I haven't finished packing yet but I do have four toiletry bags all ready and raring to go. Not one: FOUR. Plus, my unfinished packing has already proven my bag to be heavier than when I went to Europe about a million years ago. Far out - who knew that someone who has spend the better part of the last couple of weeks in nothing but pajamas and bare feet be so meticulous when packing for a week "escape"! I'm sure the outfit I haven't worn since 1991 I packed will come in handy where I'm going. You never know when shoulder pads will come back in style. One doesn't want to be caught out.

But FOUR toiletry bags seems a little off, even for me - I do want to do the pamper spa thing so maybe that's it - but I don't know, maybe it's just that a family of traveling gypsies has stowed away in there? Maybe I'm crazy and insecure? At this point anything is possible.

Apart from the pamper spa thing I also hope to do the alcohol thing, the learning how to use the camera thing, the getting back to sketching and painting thing, the reading thing, the listening to music thing, the watching movies I haven't watched in a while thing, the getting out in the sun thing, the writing thing, the thinking thing and the looking at scenery and pondering my life while I visualise Mr Darcy coming out of the lake thing Is that too much to ask for a week away?

Maybe I should work on the 'getting back to normal' thing instead.

Anyway, see you in a week - don't have parties without me!


Wednesday, January 03, 2007

How Now Brown Cow

Australian Princess

Guys, I *know* this show is the lowest of the low but christ, it's like street crack and I'm addicted.

This is the low down - take a bunch of low class, crass, bogan, maneating girls who don't really know how to dress and put them through the royal ringer (elocution classes, how to behave in public classes, charm school) and then make fun of them when they fuck up. Eliminate the ones that are total ogres (ie: normal) and then take the remaining few to England where they have to keep doing it all in front of real royalty. I'm not sure what the prize is at the end but I think it might be a sash. Along the way they are judged by a group of arse lickers who are nothing more than common plebs with posh accents and faux credentials, which are at best inadequate to judge such a spectacle.

Sounds pretty cool, huh? The umbrella premise of the show is that women have no intrinsic value to the world unless they are pretty (and malleable) airheads who amuse men with their many feminine "qualities". The funny thing is, I'm picking these kinds of vibes up in one or two blogs written by men lately as well. Good to know that "art" imitates reality then!

Probably the most entertaining person on the show (besides the pig farmer) is the bitchiest man to grace our televisions since Just Jack from Will and Grace - Royal Butler to Diana: Princess of Wales Paul Burrell. Yes, this is the guy who found himself with no job after Diana died and so he decided to dedicate himself to whoring himself in any way he could - and now here is being patronising to young girls even though he is a ..what? oh that's right FUCKING BUTLER!! Okay, Mr Belvedere - since when does being able to Mr Sheen the shit out of a dining table give you the credentials to make fun of anyone..and I mean ANYONE? You suck (keep the bitch inside alive)!

So yes, while I have found it rather hard to get out of bed lately, I'm realising that crap reality television is giving me my mojo back. If they were showing Dr Phil on daytime tele instead of the worlds most BORING sport (cricket) then you know I'd be back to 100% normal me by now (ie: from all that bile and anger I'd spew forth because Dr Phil is so infuriatingly STUPID - and yet, like crack and Australian Princess: addictive). But since they insist on killing us slowly with countless hours of unfit men wearing zinc on their noses and white pants from K-mart then we'll have to wait and see if this series of Australian Princess can cure my blues. Ooooo wait Cheaters is on tonight! Another bout of tele therapy - free of charge!

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Monday, January 01, 2007

sex it up for the fish.

Time is a funny little thing isn't it? The beginning of the new year always seems to bring out those reflective thoughts that quantify our achievements somehow. Then like some cruel joke we write down what we hope to achieve in the next block of time like they're some sort of contractual obligation and THEN if that isn't the kicker, we cut ourselves up if we don't fulfill them. That sounds like fun, eh?

I was looking back at a written journal of mine (it doesn't get much play anymore) to see what my new years resolution was for 2006 and by all accounts it was a good one; to allow myself.... Yes, that's it - genius huh? It's all encompassing - but how far one takes it is personal and ..let's face it changeable. Looking back, I took the noble cause too far in some respects and not far enough in others. I'm probably the kind of girl that needs strict guidelines - even though I resent them so. This year I was going to leave things vacant and wide open like Paris Hilton but it's impossible not to have some sort of goal.

The problem with moi is that I can't do these things without making a grand statement which is impossible to quantify like: Be a better me. Great idea, but what does it mean anyway? Then there are the quantifiable ones that you know you'll never get round to like learn another language. Again, great idea - not so sure about the execution of it though. About two of you will remember the year of French I took about 2 or 3 years ago. That was interesting - and something that amused me to no end is that I had a dream in French last night. Weird since I am decidedly crap at it. Then there are the new years resolutions that are practical and that you know you could achieve with just a little effort on your part (read classic literature, partake in regular exercise etc)... But somehow you keep making them every year because you never got round to them in the last year. It's a losing battle I tells ya - but this year I'm going to go with a singular motto like I did last year: I'll tell you about it next year when I'm going my reflective/non-reflective thing. ha.

Anyway, on to business - I was excited about this soundtrack before it even came out. There are some directors who allow music to dance with film direction rather than just be background noise. They are able to compile soundtracks so they really compliment the film action. Is this a talent? Yes. Tarantino always puts together a polished soundtrack, Zack Braff's Garden State would have been half a movie without the soundtrack, Cameron Crowe always seems to "bring it" too. I love me a good soundtrack. You can always tell when a director cares about the music. For my tastes Sophia Coppola knows how to bring the soundtrack too. The Virgin Suicides and Lost in Translation are both on high rotation in the world of me. I'm adding Marie Antoinette to that list too. Regardless of whether her movies piss you off to no end or whether you think she's a genius the soundtracks associated with Sophia Coppola movies are excellent.

I heard that the film Marie Antoinette was booed in France. Okay, these are the same culture of people that stormed the palace and raped the monarchy of their crown - God love 'em (and I really, really do), but they're not exactly politest of folks about everything. I loved the film, but I'm not looking at it from a historical/cultural point of view and I don't want to either. That isn't the point of the film anyway - it was never supposed to be a purely historical account. Stylistically speaking, I would have this film's babies - but then I like that half melancholy sunlight through the treetops feel about most things. I feel the same 'special' giddiness when I listen to the soundtrack. It's eclectic, sometimes surprising and atmospheric. Not perfect but damn good anyway. I'm not quite sure what genre to put it into - there's a few postpunk and new wave tracks, a couple of classical ones and a few ambient/electronica ones. Somehow it all works beautifully and I've been listening to it almost non-stop for the past two or so weeks.

I had a bit of a hard time picking a track to play, because all of them were so different and interesting. I'll go with the obvious choice...perfect for its decadence.

Hong Kong Garden - Siouxsie & The Banshees

As for me - what else to do on January 1st 007 but say another hello to the pillow. As a segway from the song - I hope you had a wildly decadent new years eve - mine was decidedly low key, a few drinks, a few friends, food - exactly how it needed to be this year. Happy 007 folks :)