Well, sir, there's nothing on earth like a genuine, bona fide, electrified, six-car monorail!

Alrighty, we will be working backwards on this post cause i stuffed up the order on the photos, but as the title suggests, there will be a monorail feature later on.




So as you know, we are dog-sitting at the moment while my parents are away, and last night we decided to take Comet for a spin in the car, which was something he used to LOVE when he was young and sprightly - alas, at the old age of 16, he looked more like this....





Don't let that miserable face fool you. He had a rockin time, pink towel and all. Except for when we opened the windows and he attempted to get up close to the breeze, but his bones failed to support him - so that was the end of that.

Jo, driving me and Comet to get pizza. You can see his all-time favourite restaurant in the background.

On Thursday, i babysat Jack and discovered a new weight-loss phenomenon - pushing a pram on a hot day. Try it folks. Don't let the litres of sweat pouring down your face deter you. You'll have arms of steel within two weeks, money back guaranteed.

With a whole afternoon ahead of us, and with Jack's current love of Thomas the tank engine and all things locomotive-related, i decided it was time for a milestone - his very first trip on the monorail (cause Lord knows I'm not tackling the Sydney underground alone). It was an extremely entertaining experience for me - perhaps not so for our fellow passengers, whom Jack authoritatively told to "sit down" at any opportunity. They were also treated to a thrilling rendition of Happy Birthday to You, at the top of his lungs (I mean hello, that's the way it's meant to be sung). Those particular people got off at the next stop, which was fine with us cause we didn't like them anyway. Anyone who doesn't appreciate beautiful music gets automatic points knocked off by Jack, and rightly so i say.

He also enjoyed telling the doors to close so we could be on our way at every stop, and laughed his head off as we sped up around the bends. Predictably, as soon as we got off he was demanding "more choo choo train!" So we met up with my friend Leah and headed up for another couple of loops, and I may be a sucker but let me tell you, the joy on his face was worth the 5 bucks. What does the train do, i asked him. "Toot toot!" his little voice rang out, as we waved to the people below us who couldn't possibly be having as much fun as we were. Leah was christened Lilo by Jack, and after the monorail we made our way to Hyde Park for some ball-throwing fun. At first she tried to get down on his level so that it would be easier for him to throw to her, but this kid doesn't take short cuts. "Up Lilo!" he said, refusing to throw until she was standing at full height (and that's pretty damn tall, let me tell you).

At the end of the day, I had to laugh. "Guess who's coming!" i said - " Mummy!" He immediately frowned and hung his head, as if he knew the fun was about to end. It's the plight of parents everywhere I'm afraid, which is why being the awesome Godmother is really the better job for me. And anyway, she's a sucker too. She took him on the monorail one more time before they went home. Here are some pictures from our adventures:

Jack, ready to catch.


This throw really took it out of him

Fun times in the wind for me.

Lilo and Jack

Jack on the monorail (refused to sit in the pram mind you)

Me and Jack on the mono, taken by a friendly lady who stood up to do it properly, and was immediately told by Jack to sit down. (She got off the next stop too).

Meet Bruiser

As you can see, Jack's been given a hair cut. I say 'given' because obviously he had no choice in the matter, so it's not his fault he now looks like the playground bully. Unfortunately, Maria has made poor hair choices for the kid before - i refer, of course, to the brief but memorable mullet, which she somehow found cute and endearing, and not at all trailer park trash (which was how the rest of the world saw it).



Jack himself even seems embarrassed by the new do. When you ask him who cut his hair, he frowns, and with a dismissive wave of his hand proclaims that the "naughty man" did. Luckily, he is still as charming as ever - when Jo asked him on Sunday what my full name was and he was able to say it correctly, he was a rewarded with a "good boy!" "Thank you Jo," was Jack's reply, followed by a big kiss. He kills with cuteness. Other random phrases he seems to have picked up of late include "bless you" and "hello everyone", which he likes to yell into crowds. He also lumps all humans now into two faceless categories - man or girl. For example, he will say to a stranger who is male "hello man", or to a female "bye bye girl". No further identification required.

Tell me he doesn't look like a two year old thug, cut off t.shirt and all.

Fun times at the OK corral

Me, Jack and Maria. I'm not sure what Jack is trying to achieve here.

This week and for the next two weeks we are staying at my parents cause we're on dog-duty, while they're away on holidays. Which would be OK if both dogs weren't so neurotic. Cooper barks all night - i can't believe I'm saying this, but i think he actually misses my Dad. I know, right? I was shocked too. So every five seconds you're out there telling him to shut the hell up and go to bed (except it's possible i use more curse words in that sentence than one normally would in polite society). Plus, he goes crazy for any attention, which means if you go out there he practically mauls you and pins you down so you can't ever get away from his monster grip.

Comet, on the other hand, is so old that he seems to just forget where he is most of the time. Since we have to leave him inside all day while we're at work, and being that he is the equivalent of like, 112 in human years, there's usually a surprise or two waiting to greet us when we walk through the door. Actually it's probably payback for abandoning him all day. "Take that, bitches".

Speaking of Comet, His Royal Preciousness needs attending to, so I'm off (before he wees all over the floor just to spite me).

Champagne. It's coming to get ya.

The thing about champagne is that it's bubbly. And the thing about bubbles is that they have quite the kick. Which is totally OK with me, until it's time to get up the next day, and then i curse those damn bubbles straight to hell.




Obviously this is a prelude to me telling you that on Friday night, me and Champagne became very, very intimate. We spent the whole night together. But the morning after i felt totally used. I mean i thought we were having fun, and then as soon as i wake up it karate chops me in the stomach. Alas, the connection we shared turned out to be fickle. But the night itself was super fun. As always, it was supposed to be just one drink, and then just one more, and suddenly it's midnight and you have no idea where the night went. For realsies.




Still, the whole point of going out was to celebrate our friend Con's birthday - (p.s, Happy Birthday Con!) - as his friends, it was our duty to oblige his request. We ended up meeting some Italians who has just arrived here like a month ago on a working visa. In my bubbly haze, i possibly assured them my Dad would be able to get them jobs cause he knows so many people - "no problems!" was the exact phrase i believe i used. And the worst part is, i think they have my phone number. Which means they could potentially call me at any time about this non-existent job. See how champagne screws you?




Anyway no rest for the wicked. The good times continued through to Saturday night, for Mel's 30th birthday cocktail party. I'm going to give another shout out - Happy Birthday Mel! Hope you've enjoyed all the celebrations! The party was at Ravesi's in Bondi, on the balcony overlooking the water, which was great. It's been HOT this whole weekend, so an ocean breeze was just what we needed. The cocktails flowed, let me tell you, and we had a lot of fun.

Mel and I

Everybody's got something to hide except for me and my vino.

Jo, modeling his classic 'serial killer' face, and David looking thrilled to be alive after 4 vodka lime and sodas

Errr, I'll call this one 'Bondi at dusk'

I'm kinda going backwards, but during the day on Saturday we went shopping in the city for a few bits and pieces, and as i promised you some Christmas cheer...voila! The QVB Christmas tree, which goes up every year and always looks great. Since there are three (or four?) levels, and the tree is so enormous, it ends up splitting up through the levels, if you know what i mean. Bah, you probably don't. So here are some pictures to illustrate.

Top of tree...

Bottom of tree...

Whole tree! Merry Christmas!

Annnnnd after our shopping expedition, we dropped in to see my cousin Susie and Max, who let me just say now right now is the cutest kid - he laughs non-stop (or until he cries, which actually has happened and is just as funny as the laughing bit - sorry Max).

Max, who has recently discovered the pleasure that is opening the kitchen shutters. Apparently it is a source of great joy.


And here he is in his next favourite thing to do, which is to wear tupperware as a space helmet. Don't judge. We all like doing that.

Today it was over 40 degrees - we had a BBQ to go to, which was fun apart from the aforementioned 40 degree thing, but more on that later cause I'm tired and it's still really hot and i just know i won't sleep. The good news is, Jo is at the Pearl Jam concert so i get to watch whatever i want on TV, and i have like 3 episodes of Rachel Zoe backed up. See y'all when i come out of my fashion coma.

Finally you're in peppermint land

I hear you all asking what I've been doing this week, the answer to which is not much. My highlight was Monday night, when i went to see Tori Amos with Kat at the Opera House. The title of my blog post is from one of my favourite songs of hers actually. Anyway, I'm a long-time Tori fan - her songs are amazing and dark and beautiful, like strange poetry, but to see her live is a real treat cause she is FAN-FREAKEN-TASTIC. No seriously. Awesome.




We've seen her before, a few years back, so we knew she'd be great. She plays all her own music, it's just her and her piano and keyboard and organ, some of which she plays at the same time too mind you. And an amazing voice. At all of her shows she likes to do a cover or two - last time she did a song called Vincent, originally by Don McLean (who also sang American Pie) and happens to be one of my favourites - and this time around she did Somewhere Over the Rainbow, which if you know me well enough (as Jo does, which is why he got my excitement) will know is also one of my bestest ever songs.




Other than that, I've been being all domestic (so unnatural) this week and cooking up a storm - hello, honey and soy chicken with rice and Chinese broccoli sound good enough for you? Well it WAS good, so suck it. And tonight, garlic and pepper pork with potato bake and some greens. What can i say, sometimes a girl's gotta experiment with her skills, ya know?




Oh, and one more piece of yummy news - we were at my parents last night and Ashley gave me a special present - a whole box of American sweets including the BEST peppermint chocolates ever made, Junior Mints. This may be a ploy on her part to make me fat, but hey. Whatever. Just give me the candy.




Incidentally, that song from the blog title? It's a B-side called Merman, and her live version is really beautiful. If y'all are interested, here's the youtube video!

Anyone else remember that movie Splash?

Cause i watched it today. Tom Hanks in his uber-thin days. Not that i didn't enjoy it as much as i did when i was like 12. I'm lovin' Daryl Hannah's hair though - so mermaid-esque. If only my hair was as mermaid-like as Daryl's.





So, things I've done this weekend. It began with me scamming multiple glasses of champagne and various other cocktails (...alright, and dinner too...) from my good friend Milo. Hey, he owed me anyway. (let me justify it...) And being the generally good bloke he is, he did let me milk it as much as i possibly could, and being the (sometimes) excessive drinker i am, i certainly did. I should point out that Miles has a disturbingly free and easy relationship with my mother, which he has met once. On that occasion, they discussed porn, as you do. My mother thinks him to be very handsome, and they have flirted with each other over the phone and in my presence on more than once occasion. I know. Gross. Apparently it's all in good fun. But still. Ew. Whatever rocks your socks Mum.





Alrighty, moving along. Saturday i did not manage to arise before 12.30pm due to the previous nights excesses. However, i did have to drag myself up eventually because we were playing hosts that evening to my cousins Daniel and Romina (and bean!). So, shopping was in order, or we would have nothing to feed them. It was such a beautiful, sunny day, perfect weather for a late afternoon BBQ, which we all enjoyed. There is nothing like eating outside on a Summer evening, even though it's not technically Summer. Then we retired inside to watch New Zealand make it through to the soccer World Cup for only the second time in their history, which was very exciting for Jo. Watch out world! New Zealand is coming!





And today? Today, i did nothing but watch 80s movies and read. Actually i am reading a very interesting book about Hurricane Katrina right now, so that's kept me going a number of hours. We did go for a drive with the intention of going to the beach, but the nice weather had everyone else thinking the same thing, so it was way too busy to bother finding a parking spot. Plus, i have now officially finished watching season 10 of SVU and i have 7 episodes of season 11 awaiting me! How exciting (for noone but me...)




So. I have noooo other news. Oh wait, here is some news - I'm putting up Christmas trees at my parents place AND here at our place next weekend! Ohhhh the spirit of Christmas is alive and well in our little household my friends, and there will be pictures of holiday fun for you to enjoy soon enough. I have already bought Jack's Christmas presents, and i have a long list of others to buy too - i am determined to get in early this year (this will not happen.) But the stores are ablaze with lights and trees and decorations, and David Jones have their Christmas window displays up and running, which Leah and I checked out last week. Or the week before. I can't remember, but anyway, there they were. Martin Place is having their Christmas Tree lighting festival in the next week or two too. See peeps? So much Christmas fun to be had! Stay tuned for yuletide updates from next weekend. It IS the most wonderful time of the year, after all.

My cousin Stephen wears sweet bandanas (and you should too).

That's right folks, its the fashion accessory made popular by Rambo himself - the bandana. And it's making a comeback. I know this because my cousin STEPHEN, who wanted to be mentioned by name in this blog, and who is very knowledgeable about these sorts of things, was sporting his very own sweet bandana at his sister's 16th birthday BBQ the other night.




I know. I too was taken aback by the appearance of this once famous fashion piece. It was a bold choice, but seeing the pride in his eyes as he pulled back his luscious locks to show it to me, i couldn't say what i really felt, which was that bandanas should stay in the 80s where they belong, unless you are a pro-wrestler. And STEPHEN is not a pro-wrestler. In fact, there was a time when we weren't sure he would ever weigh more than 40 kilos. Thank goodness for growth spurts.

Stephen and his sweet bandana. Don't worry, he is not ashamed of his fashion choice. He is just having a diva moment.

The BBQ was otherwise very interesting. I am convinced someone put something in those snags though, because by the end of the evening, certain peoples behaviour became highly questionable, and frankly disturbing. Mum, this means you. Kissing the TV when Elvis comes on is NOT OK. Did you snort something between dinner and dessert?

PROOF THAT IT HAPPENED!

And Maria Cristina Rositano - you have forced me to name and shame you. Making shapes with your hands is not cool unless you know what they mean. Below, you will see an example of said hand gestures. Are you in a gang? Why does everyone in this photo look high? (not on life mum. on drugs.) I have not seen my mother look this happy since we got foxtel.

Things took a turn for the worse when i posed with my uncle in an MC Hammer moment. But where are the MC Hammer pants? I should have asked bandana boy to provide some. Oh, i will not be offended if you ask whether my uncle is the first pregnant man in human history. The answer is no, he is just fat.

And if you thought we wouldn't take it to the next level...

BAM. We just did. Yeah, you saw it. Cause there ain't no MC Hammer without an MC Hammer sideways cap. Whose rappin y'all? Break down the beat. (Actually, i don't think my uncle had any idea what was happening. We just told him to do stupid things and he did.)

What you see here is the type of affection displayed between men only after heavy drinking. My Dad looks like he doesn't how to smile. But Sam does.

By this point of the evening, my mother is barging her way into every single photo. That's just damn rude. I'm not sure what's happening here, but i think STEPHEN is pointing out to the folks at home that they should all go and get sweet bandanas. On a disturbing note, i look pregnant in this photo, though i can heartily assure you i am not. It even looks like i am cradling my pregnant stomach. I am really weirded out right now, so we better cut to another photo.

This is much better. Now we all look normal. Actually, STEPHEN doesn't look normal, he looks like he is about to eat the camera.

Me and my lovely cousin Chantelle - Happy Birthday shout out to you!!

So. Is there a moral to this story? Yeah right. Our family laughs in the face of morals! We spit on morals! Even my 80 year old aunt got into it. Don't eat the rice, she said loudly, because it makes you constipated. Alas, that's the kind of thing you worry about when you're 80. Also, she said, don't eat too much because you will get fatter than you already are. Some of us were labelled whales. Some of us were told to lift our shirts so she could inspect the ever-growing fat on our bodies. And some of us who are big fat suck-ups (i will not name names, JO), were told they were perfect specimens, with nothing at all to worry about.

That about wraps things up. If you have read this post and are inspired to bring back the bandana, i will put you in contact with STEPHEN who can source them in all colours and sizes. There is no head to large for a bandana. But i will probably have to start calling you Billy Ray, after Billy Ray Cyrus, who was a big bandana supporter. See ya later peeps!

On being refined.

On this sunny afternoon, as we sit here listening to The Boss crooning away (he has become a household favourite, as a matter of fact), we are pondering on the art of being refined. For those of you that know us personally, you will, of course, be aware that Jo and I are probably some of the most unrefined people you could possibly meet. Jo is a beer drinking extraordinaire, who prefers to don t.shirts and shorts and whose idea of good living consists of lounging around on the couch watching sport or MTV. I like to think I'm a little more culturally attuned, but at the end of the day, I'm the first to put my hand up for a night out with my friends cheap wine, 80s music and the bar that everyone loves to hate - The Retro. Plus i can swear like a sailor in two languages.




We've therefore concluded that what it all comes down to is being able to act. In other words, role playing for grown-ups. And Thursday night was a fine example of our ability to pretend.




We headed out for drinks and dinner with Leah and Chris, to celebrate Leah's birthday. When one of us girls is planning such an occasion, we generally like to dress up and head out somewhere a little bit fancy, cause let's face it, when it was Jo's birthday we had dinner at the pub followed by a round of bowling. Which was no less fun, but i mean. We're girls. We need the Special Factor. So we started the evening with drinks at the Orbit Lounge, which is a revolving cocktail bar set high above Sydney, and is a birthday favourite for Leah. Naturally, we started with a round of cocktails (my regular cosmopolitan for me, and a ruby sunset for Leah), before heading into Muscato territory (which is an absolute favourite for both of us).




By this stage, the boys had joined us too, and we began discussing the big issues, like how much we all despise that ridiculous Kinder Surprise ad on TV. Have we all seen that?? If you haven't, you're in for a real treat cause I've linked the YouTube video right here. You will note that they attempt to use the word 'surprise' as much as they possibly can (cause that's just darn clever advertising), including as a headline in the paper the Dad is reading. The marvellously catchy jingle teaches us a very valuable life lesson. To make a lovely surprise, it says, you take a day without a surprise, and then, wouldn't you know it? YOU become the surprise! I mean, who knew that total happiness rested on such a simple and easy to achieve premise! The person who posted the video says it best in his headline 'Most rage-worthy ad every created', and the comments seem to concur, with one person adding that they have to leave the room when it comes on TV. We agree. What i want to know is, when this gets created, what advertising execs are sitting around their boardroom thinking "Yes, this is the right advertisement for us. We love is so much it makes us want to go out and buy more kinder surprises. I love how I've heard the word 'surprise' used in this ad so much that subliminally i now was a surprise myself! Give us more bad acting and idiotic tunes so we can sell sell sell!" In reality, a poll conducted by an Independent Committee consisting of me has shown that most people want to kill themselves after seeing this commerical. So please, never show it again. This rant was dedicated to Chris. (It's over now.)

View from Orbit Bar

Leah making an important business call

Me being refined. I know i have to work on it a bit.

Leah and I

After a few drinks, it was time to head off to dinner. Our reservation was for 8.30, because (in case you didn't know) refined people like to eat late. We went to Rockpool Bar and Grill, which was recently renovated and re-opened in the old National Mutual Building (built in 1936), and has a real art-deco feel to it. In fact, it kinda feels like you've stepped back in time to 1930s Chicago - you expect to see gangstas around every corner, but it's completely fabulous and beautiful, and....expensive. Nonetheless, we started with an aperitif, with Leah ordering the Refined People's Drink of Choice - a pimms. There are wonderful black and white prints everywhere of sensual looking women, and rows and rows of wine and champagne glasses line the walls from floor to ceiling. Marble columns grace the dining hall, and dark wood tables and chairs with low lighting set the mood. We loved the atmosphere, and when we were finally seated, we looked at the menu and really had no idea where to begin. Everything looked good, but we finally settled on prawn cocktails and ricotta and asparagus bruschetta to start with, and then i had the prawn and goat's cheese tortellini with pine nuts and raisins, and Jo had wagyu beef fettuccine. We decided to skip the 'Leatherjackets with 'Crazy Water''" (errr?). Wine was poured, jokes were told, and when the meals came out, they were predictably small but very rich tasting. I really don't think i could have eaten more, but Jo insisted on telling us how much per bite he was paying - "This is $5 bucks guys, going down the hatch".

He and Leah proceeded to indulge in a little tete a tete about the merits of feminism in this day and age - with Jo (of course) taking the view that you can't have your cake and eat it too (that is, if you want all things to be equal, than she should hold the door open as much for him and he does for her), and Leah taking the view that good manners are still good manners and always will be (that is, Jo should always open the door for her, no matter what.) I'm not sure who won the argument, but Jo felt he triumphed with this little beauty: "And where was Mrs Einstein?? In the kitchen where she belonged, that's where!" which won him no points from us.

Jo looking very refined in his suit (but hello, he has to wear this to work, so it's not like he suited up just for dinner. Still, it's all part of the act.)

Jo and I looking refined. Notice my neck scarf, the sign of a very refined woman indeed.

Leah and I, slightly flushed from the vino, but refined ladies always have a little colour in their cheeks.

All in all, i felt we played being refined very well, even though i embarrassed the table when Leah asked where the bathroom was by getting the giggles cause the instructions were so long and complicated. "Don't forget to twirl three times before you enter!" called Chris after her, which set me off even more.

Great night had by all, as always, and we all thought that the food and atmosphere was great, albeit expensive and definitely reserved for special occasions only.

Last night we had a less refined experience at my aunt's house with all the kids - some relo's visiting from Adelaide, so a family dinner ensued, which was fun except for the part where Raffael got into my Uncle's garden and picked about 30 green tomato's...woops. Jack's current favourite game is to push me off the couch and then make a sad face, saying "Poor Ornella!", which amuses him for hours, but not me.

Gotta run to yet another BBQ, my cousin Chantelle is turning 16 (I can't believe that, i remember when she was BORN! A sure sign of getting OLD!), so ciao for now!

Happy Birthday Props!

As the title suggests, this is a birthday post! Today is my bestest friend Leah's birthday. She is the Ben to my Jerry, the spaghetti to my meatballs, the Dolce to my Gabbana. And someone that awesome deserves a shout out in my book. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY MacGyver - here's to many, many more adventures, and good times quoting Home Alone and Father of the Bride. We shall not be silenced! (P.S - This is totally our year. I know I say that every year. But this time i really mean it.)






To celebrate this joyous occasion, i have decided to list for your enjoyment my top 5 Leah moments:




5. The time she laughed so hard she snorted Strawberry Moove milk up her nose and it came out through her nostrils all over her nice, clean school uniform. Way to go love.



4. The time we went to see the movie Jurassic Park and she screamed and dropped ALL of her popcorn and ALL of her drink everywhere (are you seeing the food connection?)



3. The time she was doing a Backstreet Boys impression (like, hardcore) at school camp and one of our teachers walked in right at the part where she dropped to her knees as wailed out the last chorus. I believe the song was 'As Long as You Love Me', but do correct me if I'm wrong Leah.



2. The time we attempted to make frozen ice-cream like you get at Chinese restaurants, but instead of freezing the ice cream balls for 24 hours like the recipe said, we froze it for like 2 hours tops, and then nearly burnt the kitchen down when the ice cream melted in the pan - think black smoke and fire overtaking the oven. Luckily i was there to save the day, cause she ran screaming from the kitchen like a total drama queen.



And my Number One Leah Moment is....*drumroll*....



1. When she ran out of the sports shed at school shouting in a mad panic that she'd lost her tracksuit pants, before looking down and realising she was wearing them.









We celebrated today by going out to lunch, and taking some happy snaps, cause let's face it, a bull that size deserves to be captured on film. Here is the birthday girl....























In other news - the judges have spoken, and have awarded the old man First Place in a wine competition! Way to go pops, and here he is with his First Place certificate, of which he is very proud. Proof at last of his alcoholic achievements.

The race that stops the nations

Ah that frenzy that is the Melbourne Cup! Suddenly, people all over Australia who couldn't care less about horse-racing or gambling crawl out of the woodwork and pretend to know exactly what a trifecta is, or how the odds work. (Myself included, don't get wrong. I loves me a bit of horsey horsey action on Melbourne Cup Day.) Our Victorian neighbours enjoy a public holiday, while us New South Waleans slog it out at work, but we make the best of it.



My good friend DT and I have had our own Melbourne Cup Day tradition for the last 5 or 6 years, which goes something like this: all morning we pour over the papers (i believe this is called 'reading the form' in racing terms, but i mean really, who cares), discuss the odds, see which horses have been scratched, which are the favourites, which jockey is wearing the prettiest colours. We debate over whether the horse is English or from New Zealand or Australia, and whether that even matters. We check out how they've placed in the last few races they've run, who the trainer is, whether they do well in wet weather or dry, whether they are tipped by the punters as favourites or not. All of this makes us feel terribly clever, and increases our chance of winning by exactly zero percent.




Because he runs the sweeps at work, his desk is flooded with people coming to get their game on. But he shuts down operations at about 10.30am so we can get our booty down to the nearest pub with a TAB and place our bets. This may or may not involve a morning tipple. I'll never tell.

Game on baby

Ah champagne, my old friend. How i love you and your beautiful bubbles.

Placing the bets will inevitably lead to argument, particularly over exactly how you use the betting form. As the conversation gets heated, the bartender has come over to pull us apart because we are disturbing the other patrons. He will also solve any queries we may have pertaining to said forms. I estimate we waste at least half a dozen of them because of mistakes. Since we're usually putting bets on for our other friends as well as ourselves, we have a long list of names, numbers and horses that has to be consulted. DT proclaims embarrassment over some peoples bets, and will thus have to be coerced into actually placing them. Alcohol generally helps us through this time.



Naturally we will also discuss people's race day outfits. My good friend Con the Greek, (who has threatened to start a rival blog unless i shout out to him - so HI CON!) reliably informs me that people liked my outfit today, which of course is marvellous. Con, you were the best looking Greek man (well. only Greek man.) in the whole office today. I shall henceforth call you Adonis.

Holla for the head piece.

When lunch time rolls around, we're off to the pub. We may or may not indulge in more champagne.

DT in his uber-cool aviator sunnies. Turnsie, you are soooooo embarrassing. (Did you think i was gonna say good looking? Sucker.)



Me getting ready to win the dollars

In the afternoon, everyone is abuzz with anticipation for the big race, which starts at 3pm sharp. Usually our office will provide food and drink for us to enjoy, and we all gather in the kitchen to watch on the big TV, clutching our tickets excitedly. The race lasts for over 15 minutes. DT will complain for at least 10.

Now, everyone knows you don't want your horse to be showing up as first, second or third in the first 10 minutes, cause that means they've peaked too early. In the last 5 minutes, everyone starts getting really hyperactive and will yell at the TV, because of course the horses can hear you and will try to go faster at your encouragement. I start to look like i have ants in my pants because i am bopping up and down like a loony, waiting to see who's gonna win. And this year....IT WAS ME!!! YAAAAAAAAY!!! The horse that won the Melbourne Cup was called Shocking, who i had put money on to win, which was very thrilling. Hey, simple pleasures right? I proceed to spend several minutes gloating to anyone who'll listen that I've won the big bucks (well, i did! 95 smackaroons baby!), before making arrangements with DT to go collect the winnings.

Me and DT with our winning tickets

When we go down to collect the dough, there are people all dressed up everywhere, drinking and getting rowdy and really, the atmosphere is a lot of fun, which is what i love about Melbourne Cup day. Today was ridiculously hot, it's still over 30 degrees out, and i reckon it was more like 36 degrees or so today, so the heat combined with the champagne combined with the high of winning eventually led to some fascinating conversation about one of the greatest blue collar musicians of our time. I am talking, my friends, about Bruce Springsteen.

Turnsie is partial to 'Dancing in the Dark', while I'm a mellowed out, 'Streets of Philadelphia' kind of girl. But he did describe to me in detail the music video to that classic ballad 'I'm on Fire', which he claims is one of the most 'poignant' things he's ever seen.

In the clip, our hero Bruce (said Turnsie), is a lowly mechanic whose life is thrown into turmoil by the appearance of a faceless rich lady who needs her car fixed. Her eye contact leads him to believe that when he goes to drop off the car, she'll "get his motor running" (yes, that's a direct Turnsie quote). When he gets to her house, he pauses at the doorbell, about to ring, but ultimately hesitant and wondering whether he can truly ever belong in her world. In the end, he decides she will probably just use him for his smokin' body and rugged good looks. And Bruce has more depth than that. So he walks away, despite how much he wants her. A tragic tale, he said. Of course, this moving portrayal by Turnsie (who really got inside Bruce's head, i thought) meant i had to see it for myself as soon as i got home, and i know y'all will want to too after reading this, so go ahead and check it out here.

And so ended another Melbourne Cup Day, until next year of course. Fun and frivolity had by all - too bad so many trains broke down and ruined it for everyone. Lemme tell you, waiting forever for a train with the sun beating down on your face at Central Station after you've had a few drinks and just want to get home is not a prettiful way to end the day. BOOO CITYRAIL!!!

Adelaide blog coming soon!