In My Shoes

Warning: This Post Contains Excessive Alcohol Consumption and Bad 80s Music. Read At Own Risk.

2011-08-13T19:25:00.000+10:00

Meet Suze.

Although she looks like a homeless beggar from the streets of Sydney, i can assure you that she is, in fact, a semi-intelligent young professional with a husband, a mortgage and a dog. Despite this idyllic existence, Suze has one unfortunate vice - booze.

What I'm about to report is absolute fact. I have not embellished the truth in any way, nor was i responsible for what took place over the course of 5 days several weeks ago, when i first met Suze in person.

But let me start at the beginning.

About a year ago, i stumbled across this blog. And i thought it was hilarious! I read 4 years worth of posts in a very short space of time, and lo, a cyber-friendship was born. Suze and I have been exchanging emails for yonkers, but alas, she lives abroad. So when i found out she was coming home to Oz for a visit, we decided we'd hook up for a real life meeting to see if our online chemistry would translate into reality. How bad could it be, i thought. She seems totally normal.

At approximately 5.30pm on a chilly Monday evening, i received the following text:

"Have arrived in Sydney. Drink?"

Alarm bells should have rung in my head. I mean, who has drinks on a MONDAY? Still, i agreed to meet her. She was on holidays after all, and i felt it was my duty to ensure she had a good time. Despite my fear that she would not be able to negotiate Sydney's complicated train system (being from the country and all), she agreed to meet us nearby our house, and we ended up at a local place for one or two glasses.

Several hours later, we were onto our 6th wine and i was feeling pleased with our meeting. Turns out we got on great, and she didn't seem to have any psychotic tendencies that i could see. But it was clear she could have put away another bottle of grog, so i had to be responsible and cut her off. I had work the next day after all. Obviously it wasn't me AT ALL who wanted to keep drinking into the wee hours. Definitely, absolutely not.

Day two dawned, and i met Suze and her husband Phil later in the day for lunch and a short tour of some places in Sydney that i think are underrated and pretty awesome. Yes, 4 out of 6 locations were drinking venues, but that was purely coincidental. Totally irrelevant. Lets move on. We ended up at what i believe to be a best kept secret in this town: Shady Pines Saloon. Its in an alley way, in a concrete building with a flimsy door and no sign save for an A-4 sheet of paper stuck to the front. But push that flimsy door open and a secret, wild western world reveals itself to you! There's cow heads on the walls, wood shavings on the floor and FREE PEANUTS! That's right, FREE PEANUTS!! Suze ate at least 5 bowls (I refrained myself to just one or two. peanuts, not bowls. I did. I DID!!), and enjoyed several glasses of my favourite concoction - freshly squeezed green apple juice and vodka. We calculated that we'd gotten more nutrients in one night than we'd had all week, which makes it basically a very healthy drink, which is why we tried to have as many as we could, to ensure further prosperous health and so on and so forth. And STILL, the girl drank me under the table.

ON MY OWN TURF.

Her booze addiction is such that she refused to let me leave even the dregs behind in my glass. She'd downed it in one foul swoop, claiming triumphantly that "nothing gets left behind!"

No indeed.

Now these two could have kept drinking, make no mistake about it, but i had to insist on eating before my stomach imploded. Further down the road was another joint i rather like called El Loco, which is a kind of a hastily put-together Mexican place with $5 tacos, cheap frozen margaritas and a hell of a lot of atmosphere.

All these elements put together made us veeeeery happy indeed. I'm not sure if I'm trying to do some sort of half-hearted peace sign in the picture below, or whether I'm telling the viewers at home how many more drinks it would take before i passed out entirely. As for Suze. Well.

Some of us were rather MORE happy than others. It was clearly time for me to leave.

The week continued in similar fashion. We took in dinner and drinks at Table for 20, a great communal dining experience in Surry Hills that's good value for money in this town. Everyone sits at communal tables, and we happened to be seated next to a group who had ambitiously brought about 7 or 8 bottles of wine with them. Of course Suze befriended them immediately, even though we had 2 bottles of our own. She tried to pull the whole "Yes, I'm from the UK, not a local, eager to meet new people and drink their alcohol supply" thing, but they didn't fall for it.

By the time Friday rolled around i was not only exhausted, but had been put to shame in the drinking department. However, it was Suze and Phil's last night so I was determined to put my best foot forward and go out with a bang. I enlisted the help of Jo and my good friend Turnsie, both seasoned drinkers, and we marched onwards to our first location, the Lord Nelson Brewery.

I arrived to find Suze in full disguise. Its no wonder, turns out she owes money right across Sydney.

It was ciders all round to start with, but Suze did not feel they were giving the desired effect.

Enter prune juice.

Well, it wasn't really prune juice. It was some sort of alcoholic, sparkling thing. But it was NOT good. It did get us happy snappy though. Here's the gals, ready for whatever the night would bring. That's Suze's lovely friend Kate, then Boozer herself, then me.

Ah, and here i am again, with my peace signs and my cheery "Holy Crap I'm Drunk!" face. The boys are looking...dapper's not exactly the word...stoned might be more fitting...

Aaaaaaand....yep. It starts to go downhill from there. Turnsie's pointing at his bald head with pride. Jo looks like his straining on the toilet. Phil's giving the "get a dog up ya" sign (apparently quite rude in England, though perfectly acceptable here). And SOMEONE is giving me devil ears. Fun and games abound.

But the fun soon turned sour. At midnight, we were unceremoniously ejected from the pub after Suze and I were discovered in the upstairs toilets throwing toilet paper at each other AND at other patrons AND out the window (she started it.)

But we would not be phased! We took on the streets of Sydney...

...and ended up at the all-time greatest dive in the entire city. That's right. You know it.

The Retro.

I'll caption the following photograph for you:

Suze: "OMG. What!!?? Am i hearing right? You're taking us to the RETRO??"
Me: "Hells yes! We are going to have the best time EVER!"
Phil: "Woohoo! Photo bomb!"

We put on our best sober faces and lined up to be let in. Success! Fast forward 20 minutes and 2 sexy ladies were on the prowl. Husbands? What husbands?

That thing we're drinking was made up of tequila, vodka, tequila, and cranberry juice. How many we had is up for debate. But it made us COOL.

Before we knew it, 80s fever has us in its grips. We were shaking it to 99 Red Balloons, Billie Jean and Living on a Prayer like there was no tomorrow.

At some point, our tribal instinct kicked in. This may look like a common rain dance, but its actually very complicated.

Meanwhile, we made the rookie mistake of leaving the boys to their own devices.

Here's Jo, soaking up some female love.

The place was swarming with henchmen ready to kick out any trouble-makers, but we didn't care. We laughed in the face of danger! Come and get us, we said!

Er. So they did. We got thrown out. OF THE RETRO.

WHAT!?

We were shocked and disappointed.

There's only one place (other than Maccas) open in Sydney at 3am, and that's City Extra. So we hightailed it over there for some late night burgers and chips, our last meal together before our two new friends headed back home. I'm pretty sure this is the last picture of the night. That brothel-red lighting is just the cafe we're sitting in. I mean we're not ACTUALLY in a brothel, no matter what I'm doing with my tongue.

Yep. We're just charming like that.

It was a great visit, and i think i speak for both of us when i say we had a LOT of fun and a LOT to drink. Some more than others. See you next time, peeps!

Sydney Winter Festival

2011-08-02T13:43:00.000+10:00

Every year, the Alpine Winter Festival comes to town. An ice rink appears outside St Mary’s Cathedral, along with a marquee with open log fires and bear rugs and sleighs to sit on, and all manner of stalls selling winter comfort foods and drinks. There’s pretzels and mulled wine and crepes and jacket potatoes and pork sausages with sauerkraut, and mini Danish pancakes and the list of calories goes on.

My old friend Kat and I (old as in we’ve been friends for a long time, not in that she IS actually old. Although, come to think of it…*sniggers*) decided to head down after work this week to check it out. If you’re in Sydney and fancy a couple of hours lounging around doing not very much, check it out! We didn’t ice skate (I’m the most uncoordinated person I know, plus I have an irrational fear that I’m going to fall over and someone will skate over my hands, thereby severing my fingers off), but we enjoyed watching everyone else making fools of themselves.

Of course, there’s always those one or two in the crowd that can actually skate properly. These are the types that like to show off their pirouettes and turns and fancy moves. They're also likely to receive withering looks from everyone else (the large majority trying to simply move forward on the ice without falling on their asses.) But whatevs. I say, bet they can’t eat a packet of Pringles in under 3 minutes like me. Its all about life skills.

They even had ice hockey demonstrations, which leads me to Irrational Fear Number Two: that a puck will come flying in my direction, hit me square in the face, and cause either severe cranial injuries or an impressive black eye. Or both. I kept my distance, don’t you worry.

It was all very wintry but the mulled wine keeps you warm. Do eat a pretzel while you’re there – those bad boys were good.

Keep calm and read a book

2011-07-26T21:02:00.000+10:00

I’ve dropped off the blogging this last week or two – mainly because I’ve been busy reading a ton of good books. Here are my top picks!

Skippy Dies by Paul Murray I’ll start with the obvious – at over 650 and pages, this is a massive book. Even though it weighed down my handbag, I carried it with me everywhere because I couldn’t stop reading it. In short: I loved this book.

Set in a boarding school in Ireland, it essentially follows the lives of the boys and teachers who walk its halls. The book revolves around one main event – Skippy, a student at the school, does indeed die. But why? Over what? And how does his death affect the lives of everyone around him?

This novel is ambitious. There are lots of characters and lots of themes, chief amongst them the realisation that happens to all of us as we get older - life is usually not what we expected it to be. And sometimes you just have to grow up and face reality. Murray captures adolescence perfectly – in all its funny, poignant glory. He’s got his bases covered - from your friendly school psychopath to your overweight genius to your sex-obsessed teenager. And the adults in the book are equally confused, facing their flaws and failures.

Sometimes I laughed out loud, other times my heart broke. Don’t let the size put you off – the quality of Murray’s writing keeps the story flowing nicely, despite the many voices he adopts to tell his characters stories. Highly recommended, if you don't mind dark subject matter.

Faithful Place by Tana French This is the third book in this author’s repertoire and having read all of them, I think its her best. French writes mysteries at heart – but what makes hers stand out from other authors in the genre is her character development and storytelling – her books read more like literary fiction than a typical thriller.

In her latest novel I think she nails the right balance between character and mystery. 20 years ago, Frank and the love of his life, Rosie, had plans to get out of suburban Ireland for good by running away together to London. But on the night they were set to leave, she never showed.

Now, Frank’s an undercover cop in Dublin. He’s always assumed Rosie ditched him, escaping to London on her own because of his family baggage. He hasn’t been back home since that night – until now, when an old suitcase thought to be Rosie’s is uncovered. So what happened to her?

One of the highlights of this book for me was the dialogue. Despite the sad subject matter, all the Irish swearing and carrying on kept me giggling. And I grew to love Frank too, who was flawed, yet so good. This one will definitely keep you reading.

A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan I don’t even know how to begin explaining this fascinating book. It’s short, but has big impact. Our two main protagonists are Bennie, a music producer, and Sasha, his assistant. Every chapter is told from the perspective of a completely different character, but every one of them is somehow associated with either Bennie or Sasha, or someone else they know.

Confused yet?

The main theme of this book is the passage of time. As you read it, you have no idea whether you’re in the past, the future, the present. You just have to hope you figure it out. Some characters age, some get younger, some aren’t born yet at different points in the book. There is no linear storyline, and frequently Egan will surprise you by letting you in on what’s going to happen to a character some 20 years down the track, before they even know it themselves.

I don’t think this will be a book for everyone, but personally I enjoyed it immensely. If you want traditional structure in a novel, this isn’t the book for you – but if you’re willing to step out of the box, give it a go. It didn’t win the Booker Prize for nothing.

The Provence Cure for the Broken Hearted by Bridget Asher I like a good love story as much as the next person, as long they aren’t sappy and over emotional – novels like the Time Travellers Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger, or One Day by David Nicholls are two that stand out for me.

This book caught my eye mainly because it was set in Provence, France (a place I’d love to visit), and because I had read so many meaty books that I wanted to read something a bit more lighthearted. But the cover, frankly, put me off. It looked like it was going to be an over the top, lovey dovey emo-fest.

In some ways, it was a bit over the top. Heidi is still grieving for her husband Henry, who died in a car accident. She feels incapable of moving on, despite the fact that it’s been 2 years since his death. By chance, she is given the opportunity to spend a summer in her mother’s family home in Provence with her son and 16 year old niece, and here she must learn to overcome her grief and live again.

Typical story – not so typical writing. I have to say, the prose is what got me about this book. It was so easy to read, but so beautifully written. Provence came alive, I could taste, touch, smell the place through Asher’s gorgeous imagery. Although she could be a bit too emotional for me, I was surprised to find all the same that she had some pretty nice insights into life, love and death. I was even more surprised to find myself tearing up at certain points in the book – highly unusual behaviour! Maybe I was just in the mood for a bit of romance, but I really enjoyed this book for what it was. A very sweet read.

To Harry, with love

2011-07-15T17:53:00.000+10:00

Many, many years ago, a friend tossed me Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and said "Read this. You'll love it." I remember devouring it in almost one sitting, and then feeling sorry that I'd read it so quickly because it ended too soon. This was maybe three or four years after the first book had been released, so within days i was able to go out and buy the next three installments.

I was an instant fan.

Why this series is so popular, i can't tell you. For me, it was an immediate connection. I loved the characters, i loved the magical world and mythology that Rowling had created, and i loved that there was a whole series of adventures to be had. For some reason, these are the books i find myself going back to when there's nothing else to pick up. It feels like I've read them a hundred times - its been well over a decade since i first picked them up - but i never get bored. Maybe it's a comfort thing - that i know i can escape for days into another world, be reunited with old friends who's lines i know by heart, be sure in the knowledge that good will triumph over evil. Or maybe, in what can be a crappy world, its nice to clutch a little piece of innocence in my hands, and remember what its like to be a kid, wowed by witches and wizards and wands and spells. I know the series gets darker, but still. Love and loss, elation and sadness, bravery and fear - these are all human emotions in the end. Everyone can relate.

When the movies started coming out, i was wary. But i think a real effort has been made do justice to the spirit of the books, even if it hasn't always been possible to relay every moment and character that appears within their pages. And it's been nice to see the magic come alive. I daresay the films are almost as iconic as the books - it's actually hard to read them now and not see Rupert Grint as Ron, or Daniel Radcliffe as Harry. You just can't help it, whether you like the actors or not.

Because the franchise apparently hadn't made enough money off their devoted public, a nice little publicity coup saw the last book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, be split into two halves for the movie/s. I mean. I had to roll my eyes when i heard that. Part 1 AND Part 2? Way to drag it out guys.

Still, after years of watching them, it was (i admit) with a little sadness that my old friend and fellow Potter-lover Turnsie and I bought our tickets for the last time. Since we're suckers for An Event, we decided to farewell Harry in spectacular fashion - we would see Part 1 at 9pm, and Part 2 at 12.05am on its official release date. Naturally, this would mean taking the next day off work. By the time the damn thing finished and i got home it would be close to 3am.

We decided a small tribute to Harry would add a sense of occasion to the proceedings. Thus, Turnsie stole his nieces Official Harry Potter Wand and brought it along. Here I am, conducting an important spell.

Yup, we were proud of our little wand. We thought we were very clever indeed, bringing along a little piece of Harry to celebrate The End, as it was being called. A few people, we decided, would probably do the same - bring something Potter-ish along, maybe wear a cape, or a scarf in Gryffindor colours. Nothing over the top.

How wrong we were.

Our wand turned out to be, in a word, pitiful. I was almost embarrassed by our effort. And we called ourselves fans? For in a dazzling display of all things Harry, the REAL fans thronged outside the cinema in spectacular fashion. There were Harry's and Ron's and Hermione's, of course. There were Voldemorts (some excellent, some downright terrible - painting oneself white and donning a swimming cap does NOT a Voldemort make) and Snapes. I spotted a Dolores Umbridge and a Sybill Trelawney and a Horace Slughorn. There were the fans who decided to go slightly left-field - one girl dressed herself as the golden snitch, another as an envelope addressed to Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs. And then there were those who wanted to dress up, but obviously had nothing Potter-related in their wardrobes - no problems, they just grabbed whatever they had handy. Bunny ears. Freddy Kruger masks. Angel wings. I'm pretty sure i saw someone dressed as a chicken.

We could do nothing but look down at our measly wand, stunned. So much for THAT idea.

We made our own fun though, in other ways. They had a display of Harry Potter memorabilia from the movies - some costumes, and Dumbledores wand and copies of the Daily Prophet.

And of course, there were plenty of movie posters. In the below shot, Turnsie realises how closely he resembles Voldemort....

...and i enjoy a Bellatrix moment (mainly because Turnsie tells me this is the character i most resemble, what with my being so cold and evil.)

When it finally got around to midnight, everyone was more than a little excited. Part 2 was meant to start at 12.05am. It didn't.

Here's a breakdown of what happened.

12.15am: No movie. Everyone believes this is just a ploy to build tension, and play along.
12.25am: Still no movie. The crowd begins to get restless. Popcorn is thrown, and angry fathers who have to work the next day decide to try and find out what's going on.
12.30am: You guessed it - no movie. People begin stamping their feet and turning their heads in frustration. There are shouts and jeers. We believe a riot will start.
12.35am: Genuine anger spreads through the cinema. Turnsie suggests we start a chant - "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Someone starts a slow clap, and soon everyone takes it up.
12.40am: A young cinema employee enters the room to inform us that there is no projectionist at present - she has been "caught up" in another cinema, and will be here soon. He is instantly booed, but valiantly attempts to continue his speech. He apologises for the inconvenience but, he continues, he will be happy to sell us all tickets to see the 3am session for only $8, should we wish to see it again straight away. Someone yells out that if the movie doesn't start soon, we won't make it to the 3am session even if we wanted to. Cinema employee makes a hasty exit.
12.45am: Crowd now begins to turn on themselves. Teenagers run up and down the aisle in a sugar-frenzy. Cinema employee returns to tell us that Harry will be on our screen in a mere 30 seconds. Hurrah!
12.50am: Movie starts. Crowd cheers. But wait! It's NOT the movie! Its a documentary on the MAKING of the movie! Crowd now in a rage. Daniel Radcliffe appears, telling Australia how thrilled he is that we've all made it to this special, midnight screening. He is emphatically booed. Food is thrown at his face. Now a chant does begin "START THE MOVIE! START THE MOVIE!"
12.55am: Movie begins. Crowd too tired to react.

Throughout both films, we witnessed behaviour that i can only call extreme. Someone yelled out at the beginning of Part 1 "Only two and a half hours until Part 2! YES!", prompting woops from the audience. A girl further down our row was sobbing - sobbing! - when the movie finished. There were crowd-led boos when Voldemort came on screen. Teenage girls screamed when our two male leads took their shirts off (Why?? I've never seen skin so pasty white!!) From cheers and whistles to claps and cries - it was all happening.

While we waited for the movies to start, Turnsie and I made good use of our time. I call this next segment Fun with Wands. You can't imagine all the things one can do with a wand when bored.

You can illuminate your nostril...

...or your pie-hole.

You can use it to practice your blowing-out-a-candle skillz...

...or to brainwash yourself.

You can smoke it like a cigar...

...or lick it like a lollipop.

You can turn yourself into a unicorn...

...or stick it up your nose.

You can share it...

...use it to inflict terror...

...or wear it like a moustache.

After all the fun was over, we were faced with the inevitable - the credits rolled and the curtain closed on the final installment of Harry Potter. And it was a worthy ending. There was nothing left to do except say goodbye...

...and I'll miss you.

The cutest little tea parlour in all of Sydney!

2011-07-10T21:39:00.000+10:00

Redfern has always gotten a bad rap - it's remained rather underdeveloped despite the surrounding suburbs flourishing, probably because of the negative connotations associated with the place. It's a shame, because its one of the oldest suburbs in Sydney (and therefore packed with lots of period charm), and i can see that it has the potential to be another little Surry Hills or Darlinghurst - as long as the area stays clean and safe.

Slowly but surely though, I'll hear about a cafe or a restaurant taking its chances and opening in the area, getting the vibe going. AND, you can imagine my excitement when i heard about a little place called The Tea Parlour - serving my favourite of all things, afternoon tea.

I do believe I've tried all the best high tea's in Sydney, so i was apprehensive about this one - mainly because of the price. $20, to be exact, which will get you sweets, scones, cucumber sandwiches and tea - lots of tea. I thought it very inexpensive - most high tea's will cost you double the price, at least. This would either be the greatest bargain I'd come across in a long time, or frankly a little bit dodgy.

Thankfully, it was the former not the latter. I persuaded a friend of mine to join me this afternoon, and we were completely charmed by the place. It IS teeny tiny, but it's decked out in that Bohemian style that i love (complete with stuffed peacock and mounted deer head), and Ruby, the owner, is lovely. She makes everything herself, using her grandmothers recipes, and it's all delicious. The scones? Huge. Seriously huge - some of the best I've ever had (and you're talking to a genuine scone-lover, so i should know.) The sweets are always changing - today we got mini chocolate cakes, little fig and walnut cakes, lemon tarts, blueberry and custard pastries and plenty more. The tea comes in enormous tea pots, and you get unlimited refills. The cucumber sandwiches were refreshing and plentiful. We spent a very pleasant 2 hours eating and drinking our way through it all, and were stuffed by the end.

If you don't feel like all of that, no probs - you can get just tea and scones for 8 bucks. (Did i mention how awesome the scones were?) I highly recommend this place - and also highly recommend you make a booking, especially on weekends. The place gets pretty full. Why wouldn't it? It's good, old fashioned food at good, old-fashioned prices. I guarantee you'll be charmed - but if you don't believe me, maybe some pics will persuade you...

Sunny day, sweeping the the clouds away!

2011-07-05T19:08:00.000+10:00

There's no more beautiful city in the world than Sydney on a sunny day. I'm calling it now. Some may disagree, and i shall let them - but when there's a cloudless blue sky and endless pockets of this amazing city to explore, there's no place I'd rather be.

Of course, i am bias. If you read this blog you know I'm a passionate Sydney-lover. I guess everyone feels that way about their home-town though, so i don't feel bad about it (and you can't make me.) My point is, the weather's been warm and sunny (after days and days of rain) so we've taken advantage and visited some of our favourite spots.

If you asked me where my favourite outdoor spot in all of Sydney is, I'd say Balmoral without hesitation. For a start, the scenery is really stunning. Views out to the heads, shimmering aqua blue waters, yachts dotting the ocean and shorelines...seriously appealing. The water in summer is always warmer than other beaches because its a cove. It's home to one of my favourite brunch places, the Bathers Pavilion, who also do a damn fine dinner if you wanna go somewhere a little bit fancy. And its lack of public transport is actually a big plus - it never gets as crowded as Cronulla or Bondi, so it has more of a neighbourhood feel.

We were in Mosman for breakfast last weekend, so we decided to head down to Balmoral for a walk since the day was shaping up to be so fine. I'm sure my English friends will see me rugged up in a hat and scarf and jacket and think I'm crazy for wearing so many clothes on such a sunny day, and on this occasion i have to agree with them - i was boiling.

Sparkly Balmoral Beach

Peace dude. Hard out.

Jo loves facts.

The beautiful Bathers Pavilion

Another day, we took a random drive through Point Piper (to check out the houses we'll never be able to buy), and ended up spotting a teeny tiny entrance to a little reserve with stunning views of the harbour. If you blinked, you'd miss it, but i told Jo to pull over and we jumped out to have a look. You had to walk down a whole bunch of stairs and wildly overgrown brush....

...but it was well worth it for this view:

There was some sort of regatta happening, hence all the sailboats.

This is my "LOOK AT THIS EFFING VIEW!" pose

Thanks for the great weather, Sydney! Keep it up!

A spoonful of sugar (or: a strong hit of nostalgia)

2011-06-30T21:38:00.000+10:00

There are some movies that stick out from my childhood. My mother had taped all the old musicals for me, and i watched them over and over and over again until i knew all the words to all the songs - i firmly believe my own love of music and singing grew from this period in my life. I'm pretty sure we've got video of me somewhere, as a toddler, singing The Sun'll Come out Tomorrow from Annie pitch perfectly (if i do say so myself.)

Apart from Annie, i loved the Sound of Music, The King and I, The Wizard of Oz, Oliver, My Fair Lady - and of course, Mary Poppins. I hadn't watched the movie for a long time, but recently Maria's been playing it for Jack and we watched it together one evening a few weeks ago. I realised how timeless these movies were - Jack was getting the same enjoyment out of it that i had gotten 25 years ago, and that other children probably got out of it 25 years before that. In fact, he reminded me of myself - singing all the words to all the songs and dancing along with Mary and Bert. I still remembered every scene and all those famous numbers - A Spoonful of Sugar, Jolly Holiday, Chim-Chim-a-Nee, Lets go Fly a Kite and of course Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Lo and behold, Mary Poppins the musical came to Sydney not long after that and I knew i had to go. There was no way Jo was going to come along, so i called Mum and asked her if she wanted to go - to which she (ungratefully, if you ask me) replied 'no'.

I must admit, i was taken aback. I thought she'd be a sure bet - she loves going out for gods sake! She sees trash at the movies all the time! Mary Poppins was a classic! What the!??

"It just seems like a bit of a kids show you see," she said, by way of explanation. "I really have no interest."

Well. Damned if i was going to be deterred. I kept at her until she finally relented, and i happily purchased tickets. Which was a bloody good thing because IT. WAS. FANTASTIC.

Honestly, it's not just the nostalgia (though that's certainly part of it.) It was the innocence of the whole thing - that old fashioned, magical feeling that has less to do with special-effects and more to do with good music and storytelling. I don't mind telling you that my eyes welled up during the last number. It sounds silly, but they did a great job of translating that sense of magic to the stage - it was a beautiful production. It's showing for the next several months, and i highly recommend you bag yourselves some tickets while its in Sydney - you won't regret it.

Despite attending under duress, my mum had a great time. Which just goes to show that there's a kid inside every one of us, just waiting for a moment to come out and play. I'll accept your apologies at any time, mother.

The lovely Capital Theatre, where Mary Poppins is currently playing - do go and see it if you get a chance. RELEASE YOUR INNER-CHILD!

Mum, eating her words

Me and Mary.

Goodbye, little shadow

2011-06-26T16:59:00.000+10:00

After nearly 18 years with our family, we have lost our boy.

I still remember the day we brought Comet home. He was so tired he slept on my lap for hours, and i didn't dare move in case i disturbed him. It was the first, i must say, of MANY nights of pampering.

Oh yes. Comet ruled the roost at our house.

"He can't sleep in the house," my father said that first day. He comes from that generation of Italians who have very clear definitions of human rights and animal rights - and animals, when not being eaten, should be kept outside and out of the way at all times.

But Comet had a way of getting what he wanted. I assure you, he was sleeping in the living room within weeks.

No matter. Dad attempted to regain authority. "He can't sleep in the bedrooms. That's final." Which didn't, of course, stop Comet sneaking up the hallway late at night. His little footsteps would give him away, and one of us would sneak out of bed to bring him into our room under the cover of darkness.

Still Dad persevered. "The bedroom is one thing, but HE CAN'T SLEEP IN THE BED WITH YOU. Beds are for people!! It's filthy!! I don't want to see it!!" All the same, he was up on my bed every night - keeping me up with his shifting and sniffing and digging into the sheets as though they were mounds of dirt. I vowed not to let him under the covers with me, but he wasn't having any of that. A few minutes after I'd turn the lights out he'd inevitably come up to my head and burrow his way under, right down to my feet sometimes.

Realising his rule had been totally usurped didn't stop Dad from trying, in those early years, to instill some boundaries - man vs dog. These included, but were not limited to:

No eating in the house (good try)
No travelling in the car (he ended up with his own bedding in the back seat)
No feeding him biscuits (he usually enjoyed them dipped in coffee in the mornings)
No feeding him any human food (he developed a particular fondness for chicken schnitzel and pasta with red sauce)
No buying expensive dog food (a hunger strike in the late 90s soon took care of that - by the end of it he was refusing to eat anything that wasn't My Dog, the most expensive individual dog meals on the market.)
No smelly dog beds (he had a variety over the years - sometimes two or three at once)

Over time every single one was thrown out the window.

But even I never thought I'd see the day that a dog would be allowed to sleep - wait for it - in the old man's bed. In a spectacular grand finale/royal flush/final showdown, Dad's last remaining rule was crumbled into oblivion. It was an epic battle, but in the end Comet's domination was simply too much.

Yes, he became the most pampered (read: spoilt) house dog that ever was - i do believe we smothered him in love. And he loved us in return. He never left our side, wherever we were, and we called him our little shadow because ultimately, he never wanted to be away from us. He couldn't settle down to sleep unless one of us was sitting in the same room with him. He didn't want to eat unless we were eating too. If we had to go out, he was perfectly happy to get in the car with us - every morning from the time i was 12 to the time i was 18 he sat in the back seat while my mum dropped my brother and I off at school or at the bus stop. At Christmas we wrapped presents (dog food and schmackos) for him, so he could open them with us.

He had quite the personality. His whole life he hated baths. It was a battle to clean him. He hated seeing the suitcases come out because he knew it meant we were going on holiday without him. He was lazy - certainly not one of those dogs who would chase a ball, let alone bring one back for you. He did love leisurely walks around the block though (leisurely because we had to stop at every tree and telegraph pole so he could squirt something out - by the end of the walk he had nothing left to give but he insisted on lifting his leg anyway, a symbolic gesture of his authority). And he loved being held like a baby in our arms. He had his favourite places to sit - by the screen door at the front of the house, and in the window of my parents room, where it was most sunny and warm. If he WASN'T in the car with us, both those spots were excellent for keeping watch for when we came home - as soon as he spotted us coming down the driveway, he'd race down the hall to back door, tail wagging, waiting for us to come in a scoop him up and coo over how we'd missed him. Later in life he rather enjoyed sleeping on whatever pile of towels or dirty clothes had been left on the floor of the bathroom. If we knew we'd be gone for several hours, we'd leave the radio or the TV on for him so there were always sounds to keep him company - we hated to think of him lonely and waiting in the dark for us to come home. At night, he'd sit with my mother on her reclining chair until she went to bed, or would follow me as i pottered around and around the house listening to music. When my parents inherited two big dogs (who ARE kept outside), he regularly made his disdain for them clear by walking down to where they sat and calmly peeing in their faces.

I'm sure he thought he was human.

I know this doesn't mean very much to anyone else. But it meant the world to us. He was our family, our baby, our spoilt little brat, and we'll never forget him, or how loyal he was to each and every one of us. My mother says she can still hear him walking around the house - so used to that sound as she is.

If you had asked me, that night, all those years ago, that the dog in my lap would still be around when i got married, i would have laughed. And yet it happened! And even though he was old, and we knew his time was coming, still it's no easy thing to say goodbye after nearly two decades of loving him so much. We'll none of us forget him. RIP.

T is for Tea

2011-06-19T18:56:00.000+10:00

I'm into those daily deal things at the moment, especially when you get a good one for eating out somewhere - something i looooove doing. So when i cam across one recently for high tea for two at a bargain price, i snapped it up.

Mum and I went along try it out. I have my usual high tea favourite spots in Sydney, but this one was at the cafe at the Museum of Sydney, and i have to say i was pleasantly surprised. Mismatched crockery is always a hit with me - tick, they had that. And high tea definitely has to be petite, but filling - tick again. Oh, and the tea selection should be good - extensive, plenty of black teas and plenty of herbal concoctions. Tick again. The decor wasn't fab, but hey, can't be fussy for 30 bucks.

Here's mum, having a grand time...

...and here's what she came up with when i trusted her to take a picture of me...(thanks for making sure that silver bar cut me right in half, Ma.)

There was plenty of food - we were both stuffed by the end of it. High tea always surprises me like that. I never think there's going to be enough, everything always looks so small - but I'm always so full by the end of it. PS, note the sugar cubes - tick. Very civilised.

And the candy floss on top of the creme brulee? A triumph.

After our tea, we wondered around town for a while before heading up to do some shopping (great sales at Myer by the way). Even though i work in the city every day, i stick to the same places all the time - you can easily forget how many pretty buildings and sights there are (even when its drab and overcast).

It was a nice day out, my only day out the whole long weekend actually because it bucketed down on my way home that afternoon and didn't let up again. I'm glad i got out of the house at least once.

An unexpected visitor in my bed

2011-06-16T18:39:00.000+10:00

Not THAT type of visitor, get yer minds out of the gutter.

So. A long weekend just gone and I'll be honest, it was pretty crap. The weather, for a start, did not cooperate. It was rainy and windy and disgusting, and frankly i didn't want to leave the house. Jo was away in New Zealand for his birthday - by the way, Happy Birthday Jo! - and things weren't much better over there. Apart from the blistering cold, he had earthquakes and volcanic ash to deal with, so i suppose in comparison, my weekend was a piece of cake.

Still, there was some drama. Imagine my surprise when i heard a banging on the door at 4 in the morning. I thought i was dreaming actually, but the banging was incessant and i realised no, it was for reals. I went to the door and the long and the short of it was that someone needed to watch Jack for the rest of the night. And that someone was me.

"Err, should i come to your place...?" I asked, bleary-eyed and still somewhat confused.

"Oh no, don't worry. He's asleep. Just stick him in your bed."

"Err....OK...."

Before i had time to blink he was unceremoniously dumped in Jo's usual place, and I was lying awake in the dark coming to terms with the fact that i wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon, no matter how desperately i wanted to.

And it wasn't because i was worried about squashing him, by the way. No no, i would have happily fallen back asleep if it wasn't for his CONSTANT MOVEMENT. Arms everywhere, legs kicking me, tossing and turning, and the coughing, MY GOD THE COUGHING. How he didn't wake himself up, I'll never know. Don't be fooled by this sweet face:

...because I'm telling you, the kid did NOT stop moving. Next thing i knew it was 7am and he was awake. He looked up and quickly realised he wasn't in Kansas anymore. Then he saw me - and started giggling.

"Am i really here?" was his first question, followed up with "Where's Jo sleeping?"

I confirmed he was, indeed, in my bed, and that we were having a sleep-over. Jo, thankfully, was back home with his mummy and daddy. Three in a bed just doesn't do it for me.

"Did my Mummy say I was allowed to be here?" he asked (concerned for himself, not for me by the way.)

"Oh yes, she said it was OK."

"Are you sure? Did she say it?" I had to laugh. What did he think, that i snuck over and plucked him from his bed to come spend the night?

"Of course I'm sure. Its totally fine."

He wanted to watch cartoons after that, "Together, you can be under the blankets with me," (oh, the generosity). I haven't watched kids cartoons in the morning for ages - obviously my preference is not to be awake before noon on the weekend - but let me tell you, they pump those ads towards the kiddies alright. Every single toy imaginable was advertised, and i endured countless rounds of "Can you buy me that? Can you buy me that?" And sometimes specifics like "I want the blue one not the red one."

I agreed to it all of course, with no intention of following through.

Apart from that excitement, and in between worrying about Jo not getting home from NZ due to Chilean volcanic ash (WHAT?) or being crushed in yet another Christchurch earthquake, I mainly stuck to the house. Maria and I decided we would make Jo a birthday cake (because if we made a cake, he surely had to make it home to eat it right?).

I wanted to lick the spoon, but Jack got to it first, little sneak.

It was a good thing we made the damn thing though, because he DID make it home in the end - thanks to Virgin, who still decided to fly, hurrah! I'm thrilled he didn't book his flights with Jetstar, or else he'd still be there. I must say, i feel awfully sorry for everyone still stuck waiting at the airport - especially if they have husbands or children they want to get home to, poor things.

In other news, i have a cold and I'm sick of the rain. Come back sunshine!! I miss you!!

Hello world, here's a song that we're singing...come on get happy....

2011-06-12T15:42:00.000+10:00

Ohhh and how happy we were. A regular little Partridge family of singers. That's right folks - the unstoppable force that is Karaoke has struck again.

I blame our friend Ash. If it wasn't his birthday (how dare he have the audacity to be born), we would never have been out in the first place.

Since he was turning the grand young age of 30, we knew it had to be a good one - so after a few beers at our local after work, we headed to El Loco in Surry Hills for some Authentico Mexicano. We were relieved to see that margaritas and tequila shots were also on the menu, and this, combined with $5 tacos and the best damn fish sandwich on the Eastern seaboard, kept us in high spirits for some time. (Seriously, try this place out some time. Great food, great vibe!)

The only one who was a big fat downer was Turnsie, which is no surprise. Apparently the place was too "crowded" for him, and he wanted to "go home." SHAME ON YOU TURNSIE! BOO!! I want everyone to note, as we work out way through this little adventure, Turnsie's face in the photos. He looks completely plastered in every. single. one.

I mean. At least Lauren and I make a slow progression into indecency. Turnsie skips all that and hits 'embarrassing' within his first few drinks. Happily, the camera was ready to capture it all (BWAHAHAHAHAHA Turns!)

But things start off OK. We start with gentle drinks - designer beer, red wine, very civilised. Everyone's looking pretty good. Jo's still got his tie on. Not a silly face to be seen.

But this facade never lasts. After all, the night naturally progresses. Shots are had. Margaritas seem like a great idea. Look closely at the next two photos: there's only ONE person in both of them who can't keep his eyes open. (clue: his name starts with T and ends with Urnsie.)

And then...well. The next image speaks for itself. What can really be said except oh dear. Of course, Lauren and I are still looking fresh-faced, happy, ready to embrace the night. Turnsie, on the other hand, looks like he's about to vomit.

Things quickly go downhill after that. The boys decide they want to go to the retro, biggest dive in Sydney and therefore one of our favourite places. But the girls aren't in the mood - Lauren says she knows a Karaoke place nearby and I jump for joy. My voice is at its premium after a few drinks, so i was raring to go. And Lauren, sheesh. You practically have to ply the microphone from her hands just to get a turn. I'm surprised she doesn't carry one in her handbag. Turnsie wanted to come with us, but Jo wasn't having any of that...

Except Lauren wouldn't leave without a quick snap with the DJ. (or was that my idea? i really couldn't tell you.) It takes me three tries to get this picture, which i guess was a sign of things to come....

And then we were off! Off to Ding Dong Dang Karaoke Bar, and yes, that is its real name. We were lucky too, because there was only one booth left and it had our name all over it. Unfortunately, the place only sells Tooheys New in a can, but that's OK. By that point, we'd drink anything anyway. By the looks of it, i was very proud of my can(s) (haha).

Then things get blurry. I know that Lauren took charge of the music, and all our old favourites made the cut (Sweet Child of Mine, anyone?). I took great pleasure in hogging the mike, and as you can see, became the embodiment of a true star. I mean look at me. I could be Beyonce.

We had only paid for an hour, but it flew by was to quickly and we knew it wasn't enough. Even Kat, who we dragged kicking and screaming to the joint, insisted we go again. Our voices had warmed up and we were really showing up all the other groups. They had nothing on us.

So we pay for another hour and we're in the middle of setting up an Oasis medley when out of nowhere, WHO should appear???

Turnsie! Like a homing pigeon, he'd found his way back to us. Apparently he'd been "escorted" from the last place he was at with the boys, but the night wasn't over for him yet. It doesn't matter how drunk you are, Karaoke welcomes everyone into its warm embrace.

I was glad Turnsie was there, because he really gets into it. He's got moves I've never seen. Check this out! Not sure what it's called but this move is totally bitchin'!

I don't think we could have taken ANOTHER hour even if we wanted to, but we got our fix and that was the main thing. Who knows when the itch will take hold again, but until then - keep livin' on a prayer people. You know what I'm talking about.

Mish mash

2011-06-06T21:16:00.000+10:00

Been reading...

The Civilised World, by Susi Wyss: This was a short, very moving read. It tells the story if several women - black and white - living in Africa, who's lives intersect over the course of time and the novel. At the heart of the story is Adjoa, who dreams of opening a beauty parlour and who must also come to terms with a terrible loss. I loved Adjoa because she was so real in her uncertainty - actually, all the characters were written with such realism, which is why i think such a small book ended up having so much impact. Plus, Wyss writes so beautifully, with such gentleness, that it takes no effort at all to read it in just a few sittings. Whether she's writing about the African landscape or the emotional inner turmoil of the women, she is pitch-perfect every time. Definitely recommended.

The Likeness, by Tana French: There's no doubt French is a talented writer. The Likeness is part mystery, part thriller, but its the atmosphere she creates that keeps you reading. Her characters are so well-rounded and have such depth, and her writing has a literary feel that's not typical of most mysteries, so i really enjoyed this one. The premise of the novel is simple, although you may have to suspend your disbelief temporarily - Cassie, a young detective, is called to a murder scene where she discovers she is the splitting image of the victim. I won't spoil the rest, but i do recommend it if you like mysteries with a psychological twist.

Been eating...

Orto Trading Co, Surry Hills: This place is CUTE! It's not on a main street, so we had to do a bit of looking to find it, but it seemed to be a really popular neighbourhood choice - we got there at 6pm and it was packed by 7. I could see why - it was cosy, the service was excellent and the food was really yummy. I loved the glass bottles hanging over the bar with flowers in them, and the white furniture and the candles, and i loved the free truffled popcorn we got at the start....

I had their signature pumpkin pockets to start, and then we shared a beef and Guinness stew with Yorkshire pudding and chilli-spiced potatoes - which was bloody delicious. The meat just melted in your mouth, and the potatoes was so yummy - it was the perfect wintery meal. Check it out if you have a chance.

Bruschetteria 102, Surry Hills: This is probably my new favourite place for lunch - I've already been three times and i don't see myself stopping. The first time, i dragged my old friend Turnsie along, and i was pleased that he enjoyed it as well. As you can probably tell by the name, 90% of their menu is made up of different types of bruschetta, and it. is. delicious. There's at least 12 different types, but my favourite has to be the Ragu, which is basically beef ragu with parmesan cheese on top of crusty bread, and the Alpina, which has cheese, pear and walnuts - divine. Although you probably have to be like me and like sweet and savoury flavours together to enjoy that one.

The place is really sweet-looking too, with mismatched furniture and crockery - and everything is for sale, which means the decor is constantly changing as someone buys a piece. One more thing it has going for it - NUTELLA COFFEE!!!! People, it's revolutionary. Just a spoonful of nutella in your coffee, and the flavour completely changes - it has this subtle, hazlenutty taste and its SO GOOD. That alone is worth the visit. Luckily, its only about 10 minutes from work - which could be a good or bad thing, depending on how fat i want to get after all that bread....

Been watching...

The Hangover II: OK, so it wasn't as good as the first one, but it was still pretty darn funny. My favourite character has always been Stu, and he was a ridiculous as ever in part two. This time it's him getting married, in Thailand. Aside from the location, the plot is basically exactly the same as the first - they get completely wasted, lose a member of their party and spend the rest of the movie re-tracing their steps to try and find him before the wedding takes place. Actually with some of the jokes they almost take the gross-factor up a notch. If you liked the first, I'm pretty sure you'll like the second - just don't go in with expectations that it'll be as good as the original.

YouTube: Seriously, there's some weird crap out there. And its addictive. A girlfriend and I spent three hours on Saturday night trawling through the best of the best, one bottle of wine at a time. Our favourites? In no particular order:

Watching a bot fly-turn-maggot being extracted from human flesh
Maru the box-loving kitty
Dramatic Stare (chipmunk edition - just watch it)
American Idols worst auditions

And there you have it! That's what i've been up to. Basically.

Your haircut cost HOW much?!

2011-05-31T22:50:00.000+10:00

I recently got a haircut.

This is a big deal for two reasons:

I haven't chopped my hair off for about 10 years. And actually, its never been this short. But i felt like i needed a change, and lets face it, washing long hair on a cold winters morning really sucks.
I tried a new hairdresser. Even though its been a long time since i lived out in the burbs with my parents, i STILL go back there to get my hair done, just as i have been for the last 15 years. Why? Because its CHEAP. A cut, colour and blow dry for my long, long hair cost me $80, which i spent maybe every 4 months or so because I'm lazy.

Insert tangent, as i ask - why do some women love going to the hairdresser?? I HATE IT! It's a chore - i have to sit there for 2 hours in an uncomfortable chair and make stupid small talk with someone i don't know but who's pretending to know me. Where's the pleasure-factor? Its not like you're at a spa getting a massage. Maybe it's because i get bored too quickly. I can think of so many other things I'd rather be doing. And reading a Woman's Day from 1997 isn't one of them.

But back to my story. I decided it was becoming a pain to go so far away every time i wanted a haircut. Plus, Maria's been raving about her hairdresser for ages. So she made me an appointment, and off i went.

And, i had to admit, things looked good. The girls were very attentive. They served proper coffee and chilled water. I was supplied with current magazines. My head massage at the basin was superb, AND the chairs vibrated - in a totally cool, lower-back-relaxing way. My hairdresser was lovely, just the right amount of chatty, and she did a great job with my hair. She didn't torture me by prolonging the cutting - in fact, she cut half of it off in one go: "Ready! Say bye bye!" and chop! The end result looked great - shorter, neater, and with really pretty highlights. I was impressed!

Then i went to pay.

Now, maybe I'm naive. Maybe all these years I've been getting a great deal out west and i just didn't realise how much a haircut and colour cost out in the real world. But when she told me how much it cost, my jaw actually dropped. The poor girl had the decency to look sheepish when i recovered and blurted "Pardon?" Alas, i had not misheard. I'm so appalled that i don't even want to tell you how much it was, but the first number started with THREE. That's right. THREE.

WTF????

Despite the fact that i loved my new hair, i was outraged! Surely, i thought, this wasn't normal. So i polled a few of my friends. And i was shocked to discover that it wasn't as uncommon as i thought! Several of them said they had paid similar prices for their hair before, though not on a regular basis. In fact, they said, most upmarket salons in what i suppose you could call "well-to-do" areas would definitely charge that much, depending on what "work" you have done to you hair. (Work? JUST CUT IT!!)

So, there you go. I guess times have changed. And i ain't even that old. Here i am, post-cut. You can't really see the highlights or anything in this picture, but still - after what i paid, i have to show SOMETHING off.

Some pre-wedding festivities with my gal-pal

2011-05-24T15:18:00.000+10:00

Once upon a time, there were two best friends who spent 15 years:

consoling each other through break-ups and bad hangovers (note: it was usually me with the bad hangover)
cheering on important achievements like successful first dates or cooking ventures
steeling each others nerves for job interviews or exams
learning the lines of our favourite movies in order to quote them for our amusement at a later date (Home Alone people. Watch it.)
discussing the merits of Sex and the City, and further, how what we learn in Sex and the City can be applied to our actual, everyday lives
calming each others ridiculous, borderline-psychotic anxieties via hurried and exasperated phone calls at work
giving each other a good telling-off when the other goes off the rails (note: more often than you think.)

After all that drama, there was no way in the world my best friend Leah was going to miss her chance to be maid of honour at our wedding, despite moving thousands and thousands of miles away to London. Alas, she was absent for a lot of the planning (don't think she missed my bridal tantrums though - thank you, Skype) but she came back home two weeks before the big day armed with a truckload of festivities to help make our limited time together extra special.

I'll be honest. In the week before the wedding, i was stressed. Even though i told myself I'd take everything in my stride - i didn't. Sorry. I mean i don't think i turned into a bridezilla or anything, but i couldn't stop myself from worrying about...well, everything, although the torrential rain that week was a particular source of despair.

The remedy according to Leah? High tea and cocktails. Damn smart girl. So we took ourselves, our mothers, and my other favourite people - Maria and Jack - to the delightful Observatory Hotel for afternoon tea to celebrate...me! The bride! Woohoo! (Those were the days...) I've had a lot of high teas in Sydney, but i still say the Observatory does it the best.

Here we are, dressed the part and looking totally and utterly relaxed thanks to the complimentary champagne. Now that i know the pain of paying for a wedding, I'm no longer ashamed to say that I LOVE FREE STUFF!

The Observatory Hotel has all sorts of weird and wonderful teas. I think i had white jasmine. Then again i could be completely making that up.

Jack passed on the tea and champagne, but he did enjoy a vanilla milkshake. The message in his eyes here is very clear: "This is all mine. Back off."

My page boy and I. Too bad he wasn't so gorgeous on the day, but that's another story.

My mum could not be persuaded to give up her champagne to the bride to be. Luckily, i am just as selfish when it comes to bubbly - they call that being a chip off the old block.

I wasn't as drunk as i wanted to be after high tea, so our next stop was the Blu Bar at the Shang-ri-la Hotel in the Rocks. It has quite the view of Sydney, something Leah had missed after a year of being away. As for me - well. I'm neither here nor there about views. Just pass me the cocktail list.

Even our mum's got in on the act, knocking back not one but TWO cocktails EACH. I know. Pick your jaws up off the floor, readers.

Meanwhile, Leah and I were in our element with cosmopolitans and olives and fetta cheese. These ARE a few of my favourite things.

It felt GREAT to eat, drink and be merry with someone i had really missed in the last year. It wouldn't have been the same without her with me on the day, but more than that, it was so nice to have some time to catch up and do what we've spent 15 years doing over and over again - discussing our lives to death. Would we have it any other way?

I'm writing this from home, sick and miserable on the couch, but seeing these pictures have cheered me up no end so I'll leave you with one of my favourites of me and Jack from the day. CUTE RIGHT!!!???

The culinary palate of a three year old

2011-05-17T22:52:00.002+10:00

On Sunday, we played parents and babysat Jack.

Actually, it was a last minute thing. And I'd already promised my stomach brunch. Since I'm not one to let a small, stubborn child spoil my breakfast plans, I decided we'd just go ahead and take the kid with us. In fact, i totally got into the urban-mom thing. Here i am, decked out with the ultimate accessory - a red pram. I look cool right? But here's the thing - pushing a pram around Crows Nest is not as fun as the other mummy's make it look. Actually, its friggen hard work. I spent most of our walk pleading with Jo to swap places. "What if you just push it up this hill? Huh? Then I'll take over again, I SWEAR!"

Our destination was St Malo Bakery in Crows Nest, which is one of my favourite places to eat around here. I left Jo to deal with the pram (I mean shouldn't they have parking bays, like every other method of transportation in this city?????) while i took orders.

"Jack, what do you want to eat?"

He looks at the menu, as if he can actually read the choices available, before announcing (with some authority): "I want a brioche with jam and butter."

A brioche? Really?

Jo cuts in. "What's a brioche?" I realise my three year old Godson has a more advanced palate than my husband.

"I don't think they have brioches here." I say.

But Jack remains unperturbed. "Then I'll have a croissant. With jam and butter."

I ask him if he wants some juice, which he does. "What flavour?"

"Blood orange flavour."

Jo nearly falls off his chair. Brioche, croissant, blood orange juice? What can I say, the kid should have been born in France.

Here's the boys, enjoying their food...

And here's Jack enjoying his Jam, which he prefers to eat straight. No pastry necessary. Although he offered to share half of his croissant with Jo, he claimed full rights to all condiments.

The kid and me. We love each other really.

The (second) most anticipated wedding of the year...

2011-05-03T23:51:00.011+10:00

...the first, of course, being...my own. Which was equally fabulous. But enough about me. Unless you've been living under a rock the last couple of weeks you'd know that Prince William, the most eligible Prince of recent times, married a commoner on Friday. What? No! I meant Kate Middleton. Slip of the tongue. Anyway, no doubt Grandma is very proud.

Being the Royal enthusiasts that we are, Maria and I decided we simply had to host a party in honour of the happy couple. Lucky for us Aussies, the wedding was streamed live from London, beginning 8pm Oz-time - a very respectable hour indeed. Perfect for popping the champagne and getting our drinking game on. But more on that later.

As i said, Maria and I love all things royal, especially royal weddings. We watched the wedding of Princess Mary to Prince Frederick of Denmark live all those years ago. (Another nobody who bagged herself a Prince! What the!? Am i hanging out at the wrong bars?!)

(What's that? Jo? Jo who?)

Now i know there are many Australians out there who believe we should become a republic, and I'm going to be controversial here and say that i really don't care either way. I don't think our daily lives will be particularly affected, no matter what happens, so a part of me thinks if it ain't broke, don't fix it. Really, i just find the history, the pomp, the tradition, (the scandal), all very fascinating. As for the rest, I'm neither here nor there.

But back to our favourite couple, Wills and Kate. Ah, what a love story. He in all his Princely glory and she in all her nothingness - but what stylish nothingness! A word on this - I've heard a lot of people say she doesn't take enough risks in fashion, but I say she's all class. I've never seen her wear something she looks bad in, and people - sometimes less is more. It works. I'm glad she's not too eccentric in the way she dresses. She's just normal. And i especially love that she shops in high street stores like all the other plebs. Hopefully she doesn't forget her roots. (I know. Doubt it.)

Here they are, looking radiant, despite William's obviously deteriorating hair follicles. Another controversial observation from me - Wills was in his prime maybe 5 years ago. But those days are over. The truth of the matter is, that hair ain't never growing back. We hoped he'd be Diana incarnate, but alas, Charles' genes have dominated. And won. I'd take Harry any day of the week. I know, he looked very handsome in the whole red suit get-up, but the fact remains - he looked better with the hat on. That is, when you couldn't really see his face. ANYWAY, i digress again! The happy couple:

Wait, one more point on Wills - he has decided he is above wearing a wedding ring. FYI Will, the entire world knows your married now, so who ya trying to fool huh? I read its because he doesn't like jewelery, and i suppose being a Prince he can do whatever he wants, but still. He could have given it a go at least.

And here are your hosts for the evening! Meanwhile, check out those blinds in the background. See those little pieces of paper pegged on there? Oh yeah. Kate and Wills pics. Courtesy of me, and the colour printer at work. (A flourishing career in party planning awaits. Am i right?)

And here's a sample of what we served. Homemade tea cake (Maria's baby, not mine), and scones presided over by HRH herself.

But don't let the scones deceive you into thinking this was a posh affair. It started off OK - people milling about being polite and so on...

...but then we passed around the rules to our Royal Wedding Drinking Game, and. Well. You can only guess how things went. The rules included, but were certainly not limited to, the following:

Take a drink if the Queen is on screen

If the commentator mentions Diana, take three drinks

Any time parallels are drawn to the Diana/Charles wedding, take three drinks

Last person to shout 'Candle in the Wind' if Elton John is on screen must take 5 drinks

Etc etc. Needless to say, we all became highly opinionated on the proceedings, but there was one thing we all agreed on - those reindeer antlers worn by Beatrice were completely and utterly hideous. WHAT, I ask you, was she THINKING?? The rest of the outfit was...OK. I mean it wasn't great, mind you. But those antlers. Honestly. And her sister Eugenie - can i ask who allowed her to leave the house in that horrible blue thing? The two sisters took out worst-dressed for me. Google their outfits. You'll see what i mean.

Also, I'm not sure if this is the fashion in the UK, but it seemed a lot of ladies worse their fascinaters right on their foreheads. Which is just weird. Posh Spice, for example - yes, she'll always be Posh Spice to me - wore some sort of mini-bowler-hat creation, and it sat practically between her eyeballs. I know she's pregnant with her gazillianth child, but that's no excuse.

So the champagne flowed, and we cooed over Wills and Kate and their little whispers and smiles and general air of happiness, and how pretty London looked all dressed up with the flags and the bunting, and how she said "Oh wow" when she first walked out on the balcony, and how they kissed twice, and how the Queen wasted no time in ushering everyone back inside after two seconds because she's a cranky old nanna...I mean see? See how happy everyone looks? (Except Turnsie, who never looks happy.) (This is his "Lord of the Manor" face by the way.) (???)

To really get the party going, we took photos of Turnsies ears. Here's one of them, in case you felt like checking out something really disgusting today.

What i'm trying to say is, the party was a hit (no surprises there because we're the hostesses with the mostesses. By that, i mean we keep champagne popped and flowing at all times.) I wish i could have been in London for the occasion, but alas, it wasn't to be. Hopefully Harry will come through for me in the next few years (little ginger scoundral that he is.)

All thats left to say is...God Bless America!

I mean.

God Bless the Queen! Yeah. That's the right one...

A Spot of Racing

2011-04-30T15:16:00.012+10:00

We've been busy moving house the last week and a half (yes. yes it does take that long.), so i haven't had time to write at all about any of the fun things we were doing pre-move. But we're settled in now, thank goodness. Moving really is a pain in the ass.

A few weeks ago, (back when Sydney was sunny) we went to the races. The Autumn Carnival is extremely popular. There's always that ONE horse that gets everyones attention - this year it was Black Caviar, and yes, he did win. But the odds were too high to bother betting on him. No, we're risk-takers (i.e. the ones who lose all their money in one foul swoop). But it started out OK. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and champagne, i knew, was just waiting for to be consumed.

We put on our Sunday best - and looked damn snazzy if you ask me. Traditionally on Derby Day at the Autumn Carnival you dress in black and white, and who were we to buck the trends?

Turnsie and I wasted no time studying the form guides, as any serious punters would. We spotted some potential winners in no time...

....so we headed over to the pavilion to get our bets on. Let me tell you ladies, smelly gentlemen abound in these places. But i blocked my nose, slammed my cash down on the counter, and spent the next several hours LOSING ALL MY MONEY!!! I mean! How was it possible that i picked NOT ONE WINNER!! Admittedly, my methods were questionable. For example, i quickly found that just because a horse had a pretty name, it didn't mean it would win the race. Or come second or third, for that matter. Nor would a horse being ridden by a jockey who's colours i liked. Apparently there's more to it than that. Who would have known?

Some amongst us were lucky though. Jo raked in the big bucks...

...and Turnsie? Well he was happy with his 20 bucks. Onya Turns. (p.s. hold it the right way up next time.)

Here, we see one of the winning horses that i DIDN'T bet on:

...but i kept my chin up and enjoyed the sunshine anyway.

Actually, it may have been the booze (and not the sunshine) that kept me cheerfully opening my purse all day long, despite my losses...and i should point out that i did have a good chance of winning a tidy little sum earlier in the day had i NOT listened to my old friend Turnsie's "advice". There was a race in which there was only one female horse running. In solidarity, i decided I'd back her for the win, despite the bad odds. Until Turns told me that history was against me, with filly's historically not winning their races if they're the only female running. So i didn't place my bet, and she won. Thanks a lot Turns. At least you had the grace to look sheepish. BAH!

So - we didn't come away winners but we had good fun. And now that we're moved in life can go back to normal, thank goodness.

A Honeymoon Story (Part Two)

2011-04-14T20:53:00.007+10:00

We moved on to our next resort on a day I was feeling…unwell, shall we say. I’m not sure if I’d gotton too much sun, or if I got some sort of 24 hour virus, but I really felt like crap and therefore probably couldn’t appreciate the amazing-ness of the resort until AFTER I’d collapsed onto the bed and slept for 6 hours straight. My impressions before that are hazy and consist mainly of the private mantra running through my head that went something like “Kill me now. Kill me now. Kill me now.” and so on.

But when I woke up, feeling a lot better, I took a look around and began to fully appreciate where I was. We were in the honeymoon villa, which was huge, and included its own private beach, its own private plunge pool and pagoda, and an absolutely amazing view. I’d woken up just in time for dinner, and we were happy to discover that the restaurant was just a good as at the last place. Which was lucky, because to get to Eratap, you have to drive a fair way out of town, and down a really long, really bumpy dirt track. The less we had to leave the resort, the better.

Turns out we really didn’t need to leave at all. There was so much to do so close to where we were. The great thing about Eratap is that its set on a really amazing peninsula, with lots of little islands and coves and beaches to explore without having to go very far. The staff organise different activities each day – whether it be a kayaking trip or a visit to the local village or a diving trip – but really, whenever you feel like doing something, you just give them a call and they’ll organise it. Apart from the owners, who I’m pretty sure were Aussie, most of the staff are locals who live in the nearby village, so they know the area well. They were really helpful when it came to figuring out what to do.

One of them took us on a kayaking trip around to the ‘secret lagoon’, somewhere even the locals aren’t allowed to fish, and then to a teeny tiny island on our way back for a quick swim (which I needed because hello, the sweat factor when kayaking in the tropics surprised even me.)

Another day we were dropped off by boat to another nearby deserted island for a private picnic lunch, just for us. The beach and the water was pristine, the most amazing blues, and we enjoyed a few hours swimming and drinking Tusker and eating baguettes and fresh fruit until someone turned up to pick us up again. It was BLISS.

Of course there was always plenty of time to do nothing. We had breakfast delivered to our room and ate it under our pagoda, taking in the view. We lounged around the pool, reading and swimming and eating lunch if we were hungry. We went snorkelling in the coral reefs just off our beach, before coming back and ordering more beer to sip in our plunge pool. Jo completely shaved his beard off and had a ‘Men’s Facial’ – and I remembered why I liked him with a beard. (Seriously, he looks like a baby. Its weird.) I had my nails and toenails painted. We had a private dinner served at our villa, complete with romantic lighting and free champagne. I mean. REMIND ME AGAIN WHY WE CAME HOME?????

Oh yeah, the whole earning money thing.

Folks - it’s a beautiful resort, and I would highly, highly recommend a visit if you’re ever in the mood for a wee bit of indulgence. And sunshine. And happiness. And marshmallows. (They had a bonfire night. We toasted marshmallows on the beach, amongst the crabs. I loved it.)

A Honeymoon Story (part one)

2011-04-11T19:28:00.008+10:00

FYI, I’ve decided to break this up into two or three smaller posts. Much easier for you and me both.

In a post-wedding haze, we headed off to the airport at 6am. It sucked, in case you wondered, but no pain, no gain. After all the busyness of the wedding, it was nice knowing we had 11 days to ourselves to do nothing at all but eat and swim. It’s amazing how easily you can slip into what I call Island Life, which consists mainly of those two things, with cocktails and beer thrown in at any given hour. Jo ditched his watch as soon as we arrived, and before long, we really had no idea what time of day it was. When we were hungry, we ate. When we were tired, we slept. In short, it was fabulous.

We stayed at two resorts while we were in Vanuatu. The first was Erakor Island, which (as you can tell by the name), was, indeed, on its own Island. A 24 hour ferry service connected you to the mainland, and from there we were only about 5 minutes out of town (or as the locals call it, ‘town town’). Actually, we hardly visited town town at all – it was as you would expect, fairly dilapidated, with bad roads and a lot of slums. Still, I couldn’t resist the duty free shopping forever (just so you know, alcohol is CHEAP, and we made good use of our combined 4.25L limit) and there were markets and restaurants to try if we wanted. Mainly though, we drove through it on our way to somewhere else.

The resort had its own beach lagoon, so we spent a lot of time snorkelling and swimming, or laying back in a beach chair with a book and a cocktail (Erakor made the BEST Pina Colada’s I’ve ever had.) Unfortunately, Jo went a little snorkel-crazy on the first day and got what I describe as third-degree burns on his back. And I KNOW I have a penchant for exaggeration, but this was really and truly the worst sunburn I have ever seen (must be the Anglo skin). He had no choice by to suffer through it for a couple of days until the worse was over, but I did feel for him. I mean it was freaking hot, for one thing. We went in the wet season, so the humidity was pretty bad too, but we didn’t see much rain. On some days it was so hot it would have been a welcome relief, but most of the time, it never happened.

I ate fresh seafood like, every day. Lobster and the local fish, poulet, and prawns and squid. I’m a fan of crab, but they serve mostly coconut crab over there. It’s a local delicacy, but its also an endangered species, so I steered clear. Of course, everywhere we went, our resorts included, we encountered lovely locals. They seem a happy, friendly people, and we found they went out of their way to help us or answer any of our questions.

OK, yes, sometimes you see some gentlemen with bandana’s wrapped around their heads on the side of the road hacking away at something with a machete. And yes, you can vaguely feel as though your in Somalia during these moments. But the only reason they’re wearing a bandana is because its bloody boiling and their sweating like animals, and the only reason they have machetes is because the vegetation (fruits or vegetables or roots) they’re hacking at are pretty damn tough, and hey, they gotta eat. If a machete makes that possible, so be it.

Tipping is very much against Melanesian culture, but if we had a particularly good guide or staff member, we would donate money towards the village they came from instead, which is put towards the local school or fresh water tanks or other amenities that are needed. We did do a few day trips (which I’ll tell you about in another post), but our time at Erakor was mainly spent lounging around by the lagoon, swimming or drinking. Jo developed a deep and lasting love for the local beer, called Tusker, and Kava. Kava is drink made from a local root which has…lets say sedative qualities. It’s apparently almost drug-like, very relaxing I’m told, and he took great pleasure in sampling it.

The resort put on a cultural night, with dancing and singing and traditional food (kinda touristy I guess, but we enjoyed it), and with no TV’s on hand, we spent evenings playing scrabble or scattegories (What? You thought I’d actually discuss other after-dark activities with you?)

After having had such a good time at Erakor, we wondered how our next resort would stack up. But we reeeeeally needn’t have worried…

True Love and Betty White

2011-04-09T19:32:00.004+10:00

Sometimes, i wonder about true love. Not because i think i haven't really found it, but because nowadays, there doesn't seem a whole lot of truth to the notion. I know this sounds weird for a newly married woman, but hear me out for a second. I have the same fears as everyone else - with so many marriages ending in divorce, and so many broken relationships all around us, its hard not to. Even when you think things are solid - it could be that they're not. That's the risk you take.

So i was thinking about true love, that special sort of love that stands the test of time, and i happened across a program called In the Actors Studio. The show has a different actor on every week, and the host will take them through their life and achievements in front of an audience of students studying to be actors themselves. This week, the actor was Betty White.

I'm not sure how much you know about Betty White. These days, the name is synonymous with The Golden Girls, or The Proposal, or that Superbowl ad where she's playing like a granny on the field 'till she takes a bite of Snickers. But actually, she had a very long, very illustrious career in television, way before the Golden Girls ever was. And although she'd been married before, it was through television that she met her husband Allen Ludden. They were together 18 years before he died - the love of her life, she's said. After he passed, she never remarried.

So I'm watching In the Actors Studio with Betty White, and the host's last questions to her is "If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say to you when you arrive at the pearly gates?"

Without missing a beat, she answers, "Come on in Betty, here's Allen."

I'd be lying if i said i didn't get a little teary. Because THAT'S the point. It's real. It exists. And when you're lucky enough to find it (like i have been), you really do carry it in your heart forever.

Honeymoon reading

2011-04-04T21:15:00.005+10:00

I know I haven’t even gotten around to telling you about the ACTUAL honeymoon yet, but it’s worth noting that I managed to take in nearly 5 books in 11 days, which is a damn fine achievement if you ask me. Since I know y’all rely on me for fine reading material, I’m going to tell you about my three favourites.

First Comes Love, then Comes Malaria by Eve Waite-Brown

I came across this book via a blogger who does A-LOT of reading. I’ve taken up a few of her recommendations in the past and always enjoyed them, so I had a feeling this one would go down well too. It’s a memoir, a true story about Eve’s own experiences in the Peace Corps and beyond. She marries her Peace Corps recruiter, and they take off to Uganda for 3 years, where she must adapt to life in the middle of nowhere. The book is both hilarious and poignant, and I sped through it really quickly. For some reason I have a thing about books set in Africa (a continent I’d love to visit one day), so this really appealed to me.

Finny by Justin Kramon

This is Kramon’s first novel, which definitely makes me keen to see where he’ll go from here. Chronicling 20 years, it follows Finny from misfit teenager to steadfast woman. That’s pretty much the basis of the book, which doesn’t sound too interesting on the whole, but I’m sure you’ll love Finny as much as I did. Her whole life she’s been in love with the same boy, which forms the centre of the storyline. But there’s a whole cast of other people who make recurring appearances in Finny’s life, and you find yourself really wanting to know what happens to them all. For a fairly slim volume, it covers a lot of life’s major lessons – love, disappointment, death – but for some reason it all seems very fresh and snappy in this book. The dialogue is great, but it’s definitely the characters that make this book a winner.

The Lotus Eaters by Tatjana Soli

This is a chunkster, but all I can say is WOW. Set during the Vietnam war, this book completely and utterly immerses you in Vietnam during that time period. It is SO evocative and beautifully written, which means you really do begin to think and feel like the characters do. Central to the novel is Helen, a photographer, who becomes obsessed with both the war and her lover, fellow photographer Sam. And then there’s Linh, Sam’s Vietnamese assistant, to whom she feels a strange pull. The three of them push the boundaries to get THE shot, that one, cover image that will tell the whole story of a wasteful war. While Helen and Sam become consumed by the war, almost addicted to it, Linh’s dark past means he only wants to escape it. Honestly, I loved this book, that’s all I can say. Probably one of my best of the year so far.

New shoes (Or, I Love My Husband)

2011-04-04T20:50:00.004+10:00

Friday was a bad day at work. Really bad. Like, tears and hysterics bad. Like, why do I even bother to turn up every day bad. Like, is it time to resign bad. Which was a shame because I was really looking forward to my weekend, and I didn’t appreciate ending the week on such a low note. I knew I had dinner out with David and Mel that night, so I plastered a smile on my face and soldiered on. A few king prawns and a glass of wine later, I was feeling a little better. And it helps to be around funny people who know how to make you laugh. Still, on the drive home my stomach felt heavy and I the thought of going back to work on Monday, even though it was a whole weekend away, really, really depressed me. I went to bed in a funk and woke up the same way. And then my completely wonderful husband produced the very thing that made all the badness disappear. “Late wedding present,” he said, “just cause I love ya.” The present came in THIS bag:

Now, if you know me, you know my feelings on Chanel. I mean it’s the ultimate in class. Still, we don’t exactly have the money to go splurging on designer goods, like, ever. But if and when we ever would, my pick would always be Chanel. So this was all very exciting. Ta da!

Needless to say, I love my new shoes. I stroke them lovingly in private. I cradle the box like a little baby. I dream of the day when a Chanel bag will compliment the whole look (this is many, many years and thousands of dollars away, but hey, a girl can dream.) But most of all, I think about how lucky I am to have a husband who goes out of his way to treat me, just because.

Monday randoms

2011-03-28T22:15:00.008+11:00

One: Proof of Marriage! Two: A happy reunion :) Three: A taste of Vanuatu.

Notes:

Secret Diary of a Call Girl. This is a strangely addictive show, despite the fact that it stars Billie Piper (what were her big hit again?) I've just finished season 2, with season 3 waiting in the wings. I mean its about an "escort" (which we all know is a polite way of saying high class hooker), so maybe that's the appeal. Not to say that prostitution is appealing to me in any way. Not exactly. But i always walked the risky line right?

Work. WHAT is it good for? Meh, fine, it funds my life. Except that i really, really wanna be back on holidays, and I'm desperately trying to scheme a way to have some more time off. The fact that i have no annual leave left WILL NOT DETER ME!

We have movie vouchers that need to be used up in the next four days, and there are literally no movies that i want to see, which is a first. Actually none. It's so bad I'd consider Rango. What a disappointment.

My 'books-to-read' have dwindled down to a mere TEN! The hugest of achievements. I mean the shelf is looking almost bare, which is thrilling. On the clothes front, for various reasons I'm trying to buy very little, but the fact was i needed new pants. So i picked up two pairs over the weekend. But i will not buy boots this winter. I will not.

Mr and Mrs

2011-03-27T13:05:00.003+11:00

I'm back! And I'm married! And tanned!

We actually got back on Thursday night, but i promptly got sick (I'm sure the plane was contaminated), and spent most of Friday on the couch watching 2 seasons of Secret Diary of a Call Girl. (In other words, life is back to normal.)

The rest of the weekend has been a whirlwind of washing clothes, grocery shopping, and moaning about being back in Sydney. Back to work on Monday, BOO. Reality has, alas, reared its ugly head. But we're off to see Maria and Peter and Jack tonight, which will cheer me up immensely. The Pest claims to have missed me, but i won't believe it till i see it.

There is obviously a lot to talk about, but this will have to be done in stages. For now, let me just say that our wedding day was, in a word, amazing. Its a total cliche, but it really was the best day of my life. I can't even believe how perfectly the day went, and what a fantastic party we had. Everyone had such a good time, and i honestly wouldn't have changed a thing. Of course, none of this would have been possible without all the help we got from our family and friends, some of whom travelled great distances to be with us. I'm not going to thank everyone individually here, but i WILL just say two things - firstly, my parents are really and truly the best people on the planet, who literally gave us the most beautiful day, and respected everything we wanted, and partied all night with us on the dance floor. Thank you so much - i will never forget how much you've done for us, and because of you our wedding day exceeded all of our expectations.

Secondly, our bridal party was made up of the most wonderful people, who mean the world to us - it was a big bridal party, but i think that's just testament to how lucky we are to have so many amazing friends and family, who are always there for us, and who did so much to make our day special, let alone possible! Some of my best memories of the day will always be dancing the night away with you guys - so thank you.

I've seen SOME photos from our fantastic photographer, but i haven't got them in my hot little hands yet, so i will save the wedding post until i do - though i can't wait to share the photos, because from what I've seen, they are A-MA-ZING! And of course, you'll be wanting to hear all about our honeymoon, right? That'll be coming up too, once we sort through the 800+ photos we took. (I know, we're freaks.) Ten sunny Vanuatu days of cocktails, seafood, swimming...WHY DID WE HAVE TO COME HOME???

SO! Plenty to tell, and I'll get to it soon, i hope. In the meantime, don't think that just because the wedding is over, we'll be able to relax and take it easy. That's just not us. We have a move coming up (more on that later), several visitors to look forward to, two weddings, birthday parties, and a mini-break or two...and of course we're always looking towards our next big adventure, which (scarily! excitingly!) will probably be here before you know it. But again. That's a discussion for another time.

As a last note, i will say that married life gets a big tick from me. (OK. It's really no different to living-together life. And actually, we've only been back from our holiday for three days, so who can really say. But, you know. It's nice to make it honest and all.) Pics coming soon!

Gooooooing to the chapel and we're....

2011-03-10T22:38:00.005+11:00

......goooooonna get maaaaaaaarried....

Yesiree. I am now pretty much a day away from the big day. Which actually i can't believe, given how long we've been talking about it. Ca-razy. I was actually deluded enough to think that everything would be done by this week, and I'd be able to relax and enjoy the build up....um yeah. No. Didn't happen. This has to have been one of the most stressful weeks of my life. I've been running around like a madwoman. Sleep? What's that again? My mind's been going a million miles an hour trying to keep track of everything and everyone.

But. Today i tried on my finished wedding dress, and it was all worth it. I actually felt excited, genuinely excited, for the first time. I mean when you're dressed like a bride, you really feel like a bride right? We had our rehearsal tonight, which was fun...(read: nerve-racking). I know I'm kinda the bubbly type, which most people take to mean confident in all situations, but really, I'm a little nervous about the church bit. All eyes are on you, so you really better hope you don't drop the ring, or stuff your lines up, or faint. All of these possibilities are giving me nightmares, but i think it's too late to back out now ;) (Did we consider eloping, Jo? Why did we scratch that idea again?)

Despite that bit, I'm REALLY looking forward to - marrying Jo, obviously - but also, the party afterwards! Woot! Dancing the night away with our family and friends really is the fun part.

Even though this week has been a bit of a stress, I've had a great couple of weeks leading up to this - a Hunter Valley hens weekend, high tea and cocktails, a rehearsal dinner tonight, and a last hurrah with some good friends after work last week. And it really was quite the hurrah, let me tell you. We started our night at one of Sydney's best kept secrets - the Shady Pines. You'd never find it if you didn't know where it was - which is in a back alley, in a decrepit-looking building without a sign - but once you walk in, you may as well be back in the Wild West. It's got a real Saloon feel - in an awesome way, not in a cheesy Gold Coast Movie World way - plus, you get free peanuts all night! And the drinks - delicious. Tequila is their specialty, but personally i enjoy the vodka and fresh juices.

Kat and I and some sort of enormous drink.

So, Shady Pines, closely followed by everyones favourite Japanese pastime, Karaoke. Because honestly, there's nothing like belting out the classics with a bunch of your pissed friends. It was completely fantastic, obviously, with highlights including a very heartfelt rendition of Wonderwall by Oasis, a cracking Sweet Child of Mine by the Gunnies, and of course our personal favourite, Living on a Prayer by the great Bon Jovi. Lauren and I took advantage of Turnsie's drunken state by knocking him to the ground whenever we could (and knocking him back down again every time he tried to get up. We're pretty awesome friends like that.) We had a great night, even if i couldn't talk the whole of the next day.

I really do have the best bunch of friends, including these two crazies. We call ourselves instigators, because THAT is what we do. (What? That's a really cool name.)

Turnsie, me, Lauren

I've been able to spend some time this week with some great people i haven't seen in ages, like our adorable flower girl, Jo's niece Lauren...

And of course his cousin and one of my awesome bridesmaids, Christina. We always have way too much fun together, and i hope she'll forgive me for ditching her for an hour to write this post...(anyway, foxtel's there. it's everyones friend.)

So this is it from me! I won't be back in touch till we get back from our honeymoon in Vanuatu, and when i return it shall be as a married woman! I know I've said it before, but it's really nice (after all the talking and planning and fighting) to know that it's all for the sake of marrying Jo, who i love beyond words, and can't wait to call my husband.

Wish us luck!

I'm a teeny tiny bit busy...

2011-03-04T09:49:00.006+11:00

...but I'm still taking the time to write. Because it clears my head and i hope in years to come i can look back and remember all the stuff i used to do when i was young and free and unmarried... *winks*

This post is going to be all over the place. As always, we've been supremely busy - and not just with wedding stuff. I'm not one to let my social life suffer for anything. There's been lots of fun in the air, despite the stress of organising a wedding. For example, Valentines Day. We're not usually Valentines Day people, because it's a bloody huge rip off if you ask me. Flowers magically triple in price, and most people i know agree that you don't need one set day in the year to show your someone special that you love them. All the same, Jo was a doll and got us tickets to see Breakfast at Tiffany's at the Orpheum, my most favourite cinema in Sydney, and it was quite a lovely evening. We rushed home for eggs on toast (romantic dinner, no?) and then hightailed it to the Orpheum for some champagne before the movie. Inside, it looks like this:

So you can see why i love it. And of course, Audrey Hepburn has a face that deserves to be watched on the big screen.

Then, of course, there's all the children in my life. It's a rather convenient thing, (when you love kids but really aren't in the mood to pop any of your own out), to have family that so obligingly provide wonderful children at your disposal whenever you please. There's my little superheros, for a start, who constantly make me laugh with their honesty.

Jack has been reunited with his old friend Lilo (known to the rest of us as Leah, Maid of Honour extraordinaire), back from the UK for the wedding. Maria asked him the other day if he was ready to marry me soon. "No", he said, but he'd be happy to marry Lilo. Said Maria: "You tell Ornella next time you see her that you don't want to marry her, you want to marry Lilo." He sighed, shook his head, and said "Well. She won't be very happy."

I mean. The kid comes out with some gold. And then there's the puker, who's bubbly personality is the carbon copy of his mother. He's one of those babies that love being around people - which makes bedtime rather a bore. And let me tell you, his screams are high pitched and persistent. He doesn't give in easily. It's as if he's saying "WHAT THE HELL??? YOU'RE PUTTING ME TO BED WHEN WE HAVE COMPANY??? IS THIS A JOKE??? MUM?? IS THIS A JOKE, FOR REALS??" Alas Pukes, it's no joke.

Hmm. What else. We've seen some good movies - True Grit, for example. What's that? Didn't think i was the cowboy type, you say? OK, it's a western, fine. But it's a good one! I really had no idea what it was about, so maybe having no expectations helped. But i thought it was excellent. The young girl in it, i think her name is Hailee Steinfeld, she was amazing. She plays a girl who's father was killed by an outlaw - and now she wants him brought to justice. So she hires a washed up old Marshall (played by Jeff Bridges) to go out and find the killer, and bring him in. With her help, of course. Honestly, it was top notch performances by everyone - including Matt Damon, who plays a Texas ranger on a hunt of his own. Give it a chance people.

We also finally got around to watching The Social Network. That was great too actually, i can understand now why everyones been raving about it. Though i still find it weird that such a current issue has already been made into a movie.

And of course there's the Oscars. Two words for that: train. wreck. I mean, James Franco? What the hell? Anne Hathaway, to her credit, gave it a pretty good shot. I felt sorry for her actually. She talked without appearing to read from an autocue, which i thought was a positive start. And the girl can sing, I'll give her that. But that Franco kid, he really let her down. He looked grey and sweaty and drugged up, and totally disinterested in the whole thing. Neither of them should have been given the job. That's my two cents.

OH, and this book - Room, by Emma Donoghue. I literally couldn't put it down. Reckon i read it in 48 hours, if not less. READ IT PEOPLE! It's so good. It's narrated by a 5 year old boy called Jack. He's lived his whole life inside one, tiny room - never been outside, never known another life but the one inside those four walls. The reason for this is that his mother has been held captive for the last 7 years by her abductor - who is also Jack's father. It's sort of a Joseph Fritzl situation. I felt claustrophobic just reading it. What makes the book so poignant is the fact that it IS narrated by the child, who doesn't know any other life. His friends are the table, the chairs, the stove, the bed. The sight of any living thing - ant, spider - sends him into spasms of joy. And yet he's happy, and doesn't understand why his mother would ever want to leave what is essentially the only home he's ever known. Anyway, that's all I'm going to say. READ. IT.

I want to tell you about my hens weekend in the Hunter Valley, but i don't have any photo's yet, so that might have to wait. Otherwise, this has been my last week at work, yay, so it's been ridiculously busy. But as of today, Friday, I'm DONE for three and a half weeks, and i can't tell you how good that feels. It's been a frenzy of preparations for the wedding of course - we're only a week out, and I'm so excited about what's going to be, I'll call it now, an awesome party. And then, holidays! Woooooot! Vanuatu, for ten relaxing days. I can't wait.

But more than anything, I'm just so excited to be marrying my best friend in the whole world - its nice to know you're going to be spending your life with someone you actually have so much fun with, every day.

Cluck cluck

2011-02-27T20:19:00.005+11:00

I'm referring, of course, to my hens night - 10 hours of madness and mayhem that proved something very important: getting older does not mean you lose the ability to dance all night long.

Hell. No.

But let's start at the very beginning (a very good place to start). I'm not one for blinking "Bride to Be" sashes or gaudy tiara's or penis straws - I'm a classy gal after all. So my evening was supposed to be a pleasant, sophisticated affair.

And i mean. It TOTALLY started out like that. My Hen Entourage and I met at my most favourite bar in Sydney, The Victoria Room, where I've been sipping delicious cocktails for many years. We had our own private (air conditioned, thank God) sitting room, where we drank champagne and indulged in a huge dinner, and chatted and laughed and lived, and all was right with the world. My mother was on fire - it's was an exciting night for her, being out and about in the CITY no less, in a trendy bar, drinking expensive champagne, catching a cab home....sheesh. Kid in a candy store stuff. But hey - you were NOT drunk, right Ma? *wink wink. nudge nudge* Anywho, the thing to remember is that she had a marvellous time, as did we all.

And then, the clock struck 11. Which is not an ominous number by any means. I mean its not midnight or anything. But by the time 11 rolls around, you can pretty much separate the stayers and the goers. You know who's gonna stick with you till the end, and who's gonna have to head off (bye Mum.). My core groupies and I, knew there was only one place that could satisfy a dance fever.

And that was the Retro.

Sure it's a dive, but OH the nights we've had there. It was fitting to go back for one last hurrah. (Last hurrah? Who am i kidding. Retro is for life, dude.) There's really a lot to love. For one, cheap drinks. Then, the music - 70s and 80s all night long upstairs, and awesome 90s and top 40 downstairs. Really, the choice is endless. Thirdly, what's not to like about disco balls, fluorescent lights and podiums?

So we get there, and of course its straight upstairs for some 80s magic. It was probably about midnight when we arrived, when the dancing fervor began. This fervor, my friends, did not end until 5 hours later when, weary and exhausted, we looked around and realised there was actually no one left except us. I'm pretty sure the DJ wasn't happy about it. ("I could be packing up to go home right now, but instead I'm here spinning tunes for a bunch of ungrateful GIRLS??? WHAT THE???")

Maybe it was the weather. It was the hottest night recorded in Sydney in i don't know how many years. I'm talking really steamy. The humidity was fierce. People go loopy in that kind of heat. We walked out of there at 5am and it was still 35 degrees. Or maybe it was the music. Tina Turner's Simply the Best sent my friend Lauren into spasms of joy - the girl was singing into a pretend microphone for godsake. And then of course, Thriller and Billie Jean. Dancing Queen. Run to Paradise. Summer of '69. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles). Summer Rain. That was just in the first hour people! There's just something about singing at the top of your lungs with a bunch of friends on a podium that grabs a hold of you and doesn't let you go all night, you know? Can we really be blamed? Or maybe it was just the company. My friends are awesome, as are my cousins, and frankly, that's what's gonna make your night great. We were all just having a good time together - who wants to leave that?

Whatever it was, i can safely say I had an absolute blast. I can also safely say that Tina Turner will forever remind me of that night. Kama, Lauren and I (GENUINELY the last men standing), came back to my place afterwards in a state of near-collapse, desperate for eggs (which i did make, by the way, at 5.30 in the morning, in a vodka-induced stupor. What can I say, turning the stove on seemed like an awesome idea at the time.) And those eggs were the best I've ever tasted, let me tell you. Alas, this was closely followed by one of the WORST nights sleep I've ever had. (Not your fault, Kama, even though we shared the bed. You aren't to blame. Smirnoff ice double blacks, on the other hand, certainly played a part.)

Unfortunately, i had Jo's big camera that night (which i admit, i don't know how to use properly), so i didn't get the best pictures....but here's a teeny tiny selection. I know i haven't blogged regularly in ages, I've been super duper busy - the wedding is two weeks away now, so all down to the nitty gritty details. My best friend and maid of honour Leah arrived back in the country on Thursday night (she's been living in the UK the last 12 months, but flew in especially for the wedding), so now it really feels exciting! This weekend was spent in the Hunter Valley, for Part Two of my Hens celebrations - all organised by Leah - more fun, more madness, and i promise a blog to follow on that soon...hopefully...

Maria, Lauren, Kama and the other Maria.

Romina and I (and Bean the Second, techinically.)

Me and Vicks

Sylvana, Susie, Mel and Adriana

Maria, AKA 'The Instigator", and I

My mother. What can i say, we come from the same mould.

The one with all the books

2011-02-04T22:04:00.007+11:00

I've actually read a bunch of great books lately. I've always been a big reader, but for 2011 i decided that i wasn't going to read anything i really didn't want to. What i mean is, if i start a book and it isn't doing it for me, I'm going to abandon it instead of force myself to kick on. Which hopefully means I'll only be reading really great stuff. Which, in hindsight, makes me wonder why i didn't start doing this years ago.

Anyway. Whatevs. Onto the books!

OK. Now i know everyone always has mixed feelings about books that would be classified as 'Young Adult'. It seems that if there are vampires or werewolves involved (Twilight anyone?), then the peeps are on board. If not, young adult fiction seems to be a bit taboo (unless you actually are a young adult. And by young adult i mean teenager.) But i honestly believe there's some really great stand alone, well written young adult titles out there that adults could get a lot out of. And Please Ignore Vera Dietz by A.S King is one of them. Yes, it's a coming of age novel. But it's a really, really good one.

Vera is in love with her best friend, Charlie. The only problem is, Charlie is dead. Worse - he died under some pretty dark circumstances. Worse again - he's haunting Vera. That's right. Haunting her. Because she's the only one out there who can clear his name. That's pretty much all I'm gonna say about the plot. But this novel is smart, funny and has a lot of heart. Vera is well rounded character - she's clever and likable, but she makes mistakes. If you're open to trying out some GOOD young adult fiction (cause there's a lot of crap out there), you should give this one a go.

On the other side of the spectrum is one of the most 'adult' books I've read in a long time. Australian novel The Slap, by Christos Tsiolkas is my best book of 2011 so far. I mean. It's only February. But still. A friend of mine passed it on to me, and I've passed it on to someone else, and they've passed it on to someone else again. I think this one's going to make the rounds at my office, for sure. The premise is pretty simple - a guy at a BBQ slaps a kid that isn't his. The event unleashes serious repercussions and differing opinions - the book is actually broken up into 8 parts, each told from the point of view of a character who was there. The interesting thing about it is that all of the characters come from completely different backgrounds, so you get diverse opinions - not just about the slap itself, but about life. Characters ranged from young, old, gay, straight, single, married and came from a variety of racial backgrounds. I thought it honestly covered the good, the bad and the ugly side of life - from relationships to marriage to kids to growing old - it's all there. Its a really great read - just be prepared for lots of swearing and sex. You'll find a lot to talk about!

After that hefty read, i needed something a bit...lighter. So i picked up Bad Marie, by Marcy Dermansky, and read it in two days. Marie really is bad. Deliciously so. An ex-con who actually enjoyed the lack of responsibility required in prison, Marie is released after 6 years on the inside, and heads straight to New York City. She becomes a live-in nanny, and promptly proceeds kidnap the child in her care. For good measure, she steals the husband too. What follows is quite the romp - implausible, sure, but great fun. And despite Marie's wickedness - i really liked her! I wanted things to work out! The whole kidnapping thing...bah. The kids real mother was a bitch anyway. I was rooting for Marie all the way - betcha you will too.

And my latest read? An oddball, but one i liked. Balthazar Jones and the Tower of London Zoo by Julia Stuart is one of those subtle books that makes a quiet impact. I wasn't sure i was going to like it at first - even the writing is oddball. But once i got used to that, i found myself looking for 5 minutes during the day to read some more. Of course, its the characters in this one that really make the difference. They were the types you really come to care about. As the title suggests, the book centres around Balthazar Jones, a beefeater at the Tower of London, and his wife. They once had a son, but now they do not, and that's all I'll say about that. There are an assortment of other characters that live within the walls of the Tower of London, and each of them have a story or a secret to tell. If you don't mind character-driven reads, this is a great one.

I must tell you about my hens night (the first one that is), but I'll save that for next time. Bizarrely, I'm more interested in watching Top Gear right now, so I'll leave you all to enjoy your Tuesday evenings.

A Farm Party

2011-02-04T20:49:00.007+11:00

For Jack's birthday this year, Maria and I put our heads together and decided we'd do a themed party. Since the pest loves animals so much, we thought a farm party would be fun for a bunch of three year olds. And apart from being a thousand degrees out that day, it turned out a treat - the little mobile farm was a great success. The kids got to learn about all the animals, and were able to feed and pet them (under supervision, of course).

The lovely ladies who ran the whole thing were very patient - unlike me. The heat was driving me up the wall, and it was a MORNING party. So i admit, i may or may not have been slightly snappy. Possibly. So sue me! Everyones sweating and there are a million kids who want to pee and eat and pet the sheep and get in the pen and out of the pen and be read stories...bah. BAH! I just wanted to eat my egg roll in peace. It was nice to see Jack so excited though. Winner!

Zara was the most fearless of them all. Patting the sheep was not enough. She wanted to ride the damn thing.

The cake itself was awesome, made by Jack's equally awesome (and very handy in the kitchen) neighbour Jenna. Look! A farm cake! I think about what Maria and I would have accomplished if we'd been set the task of making this thing. In my vision, we are staring helplessly at both a bowl of green sludge and an empty bottle of champagne. We may or may not have been responsible for both. Basically, it's lucky we have Jenna to do the baking. (She even did the animals. I am beyond impressed. They look exactly like they're supposed to look! I can't even DRAW a cow, let alone make one out of....whatever the hell that stuff is.)

That little sign on the cake says "Jack's farm - Est. 2008". I mean. The girl thought of everything. By the way, have you noticed this new smile of Jack's? The bottom teeth seem to be a main feature. What's that about kid?

I will say this - his confidence, for a three year old, is pretty amazing. I know I'm biased. But really, it is. After he blew his candles out, he got up on that chair and actually said a speech. In front of a room full of people. "Thank you for coming to my party and for my presents, and thank you to mummy and daddy for giving me a party." THAT was the speech! WTF? What three year old does that?? I mean he had a bit of prodding, fair enough, but still. Even i was proud.

So, more birthday celebrations are over for another year. Hard to believe in a couple more years he'll be in school (HA - that'll be a rude shock to his system. Structure? Rules? What??) And now, I'm off to watch Bridezillas. Don't judge till you've seen it. Everyone loves a psycho-bride.

Hi 40 degree days

2011-02-04T19:40:00.008+11:00

Sweet Bajesus its hot. REAL hot. Don't get me wrong - i love warm weather as much as the next person, but this freaking humidity is wearing everyone down. Ahhh the curse of the Sydney-sider - we love to complain. When it's raining we wonder where summer is, but when it's too hot we hate dealing with it.

So, best to look on the bright side - and that is going to the beach after work. LOVE! We've been a few times this week, and I'm loving it. Nothing more refreshing than washing the crap of the day away in the sea. Plus, the water's been really warm. Usually the ocean can be bracing, to say the least, but this week it's had that "just peed in" warm quality that i love.

The other great thing about this weather? Sydney looks great in it. The harbour is sparkling, the ferries are steaming, people are out and about at all hours...i love it. Here's a cracking example of how this fine city can look on a sunny day:

I mean really. Why would you want to live anywhere else? (Oh yeah, cause it costs a shitbomb to live here. Still,.Bright side, bright side....) Ah well, that's love for you - no matter the cost, you never want to leave. And i do have a passion for this city.

Since it's been so steamy out, you have to cool down by sticking by the water - the beach, the harbour...anywhere you might get a breeze. Nighttime is the worst. Our apartment has aircon but honestly, it doesn't feel like its working. Until you go outside and realise the temperature's doubled. Sweaty, sticky nights lose their allure after about ten minutes, let me tell you. Ain't nothing sexy about stinking the bed out. But I digress. So we go to the beach, and we take walks around the harbour, and life is pretty good!

In other news - the wedding is now 5 weeks away. Which means, people, the HONEYMOON is 5 weeks away. WOOT! I am so looking forward to all that time off work. (And getting married. Obviously I'm looking forward to that and everything.) (NO WORK NO WORK NO WORK!!)

Downside to the wedding coming up? Everyone wants my money. Final payments are due for everything, which means we're rapidly waving bye byes to our hard-earned cash. The things we do eh?

Hope everyone has an amazing weekend - hens night tomorrow for me, and i intend to be drowning in cocktails by 9pm. Wish me luck!

End of January?? What??

2011-01-25T21:08:00.007+11:00

How is that possible? Too busy, that's the bloody problem, and this week was no exception. It was Jack's birthday on Wednesday, so we went over for dinner and cake and all that. His real birthday party isn't until this weekend, and it's featuring a special surprise from me and Maria. More on that next week! As for Wednesday, for an impromptu party there sure were plenty of kids in attendance. Christ. Girls, boys, babies - every age bracket was accounted for. There really was nowhere to hide. So i made the best of it and stuck with the ones i knew and loved.

Christian, Raffael and me

In fact, it wasn't just Jack's birthday - it was his cousin William's too. Which is why there were about a billion kids - double the festivities. William was turning two, so still slightly overwhelmed by it all. But turning three, Jack had a better idea of what birthdays are all about - presents. And lets be honest - the kid threw aside anything that wasn't a toy or DVD. Little shit.

Birthday cakes!

Happy birthday to me!

William cuts the cake with his mama

Kid heaven

By the time Friday rolled around, i was ready for a drink. Alas for me and everyone around me, because drink i did. A good friend from work was leaving (she's travelling the world for 6 months, lucky bugger), so we decided heading to the pub early was in order. First bottle of wine was consumed by 4.30 in the afternoon, and Lord knows that happened after that. I know i got home past midnight - which means we basically drank for a full working day. Which is a phenomenal effort, and i applaud it, and i was punished for it on Saturday BELIEVE ME. My body can no longer cope with all-night benders. Am i getting old??? How did i manage that sort of drinking TWICE every weekend a mere few years ago?? Vague snippets of the night are coming back to me as the days pass (like demanding someone go and get me a burger - and actually, i think someone did), which is always funny. Its like you're in a half-dream - did that really happen, or am i imagining it? Good times.

Me and Wing-Sze, world traveller extraordinaire, who i will MISS!!

George, me and WS - i can't believe our trio has been so rudely split. Bah. Bah!

On the other hand, waking up early the next day to meet Maria in Newtown and look for wedding favours was NOT a happy moment. Really. Was. Not.

I was parched, for starters, and no amount of water would quench my thirst. Second, it was like a hundred degrees outside, so all i did for three hours was sweat out everything I'd consumed the night before. Thirdly, we were supposed to meet for breakfast, but Maria was late, so i had to eat alone like a loser, AND, i really wanted greasy bacon and eggs for breakfast, but I've vowed off eating pork, so i had to have mushrooms instead. Not the fat factor i was after. And it was one of those situations where I'd asked for two menus because i thought there would be two of us. So the waiter brings two menus and two water glasses and two sets of cutlery. And then Maria doesn't show, which is OK, but to the waiter, it looked like I'd been totally ditched, probably by a guy. "My cousin's running really late..." i told him feebly when i went to pay. And he gives me this sympathetic look like "Yeah, sure. See it all the time. But OK, you're cousin's late, whatevs..."

To top it off, we ended up sitting for what felt like an eternity with this lady talking about wedding favours when all i wanted to do was go to the toilet. When i finally couldn't hold it any more, i asked whether there was one available even though i could see there wasn't. She said she had one out the back, but that it was a bit "rustic". HA! Rustic?? Rustic means CHARMING, lady! Not pitch-black, spider-infested, outback dunny with mouldy toilet paper and a yellow-stained floor. But i was busting so i had to go, i had to. And really, after that, all i wanted to do was go back home and go to bed. Thank goodness I actually found some favours i liked after all that, so it was kind of worth it, just.

By Sunday i was buggered, but it was a beautiful day and we were heading off for a BBQ with my cousins. They have three little kids who are a hoot, and we love seeing them, so it was a nice afternoon.

Raffael and Christian with their vegetable garden

Fish on the barbie for lunch, DELICIOUS.

Jo, Raffy and Christian reading books

Later that afternoon, Jo and my Dad were headed off to the cricket, so Mum and I decided to go to the movies to see Black Swan. Obviously it's been getting a lot of buzz, so we were interested to see whether it would live up to the hype.

Which it kind of did. I'm not sure what i expected from it in hindsight actually. It's hard to put it in a genre category, but i guess you could call it part thriller, part horror. Natalie Portman plays Nina, a ballerina who's waiting for her big moment - and it comes when she wins the lead in Swan Lake. Her nervous and unsure personality is evident from the start, but once the pressure of the role sets in, and we learn more about her home life, the cracks in her mental state begin to show. From there, the audience is left to guess what's real and what isn't. We see it all through Nina's eyes, and that's what i liked best about the movie - i felt like i understood her paranoia and delusions because i was seeing them for myself, i thought they were real too. When it turned out they weren't, i felt her confusion because it was also my own. I was definitely on the edge of my seat for the whole movie. On the other hand. It was so intense and confronting in its realism that I was almost uncomfortable watching it. And i am no prude by any means, but there were some scenes where i was like "Geez. That's...weird..." So I'm not sure its for everyone. From an artistic perspective, it's beautifully staged and shot. But it's very dark, and its MA rating is appropriate. I'm still feeling a little unnerved and disturbed by it, even a couple of days later.

Public holiday tomorrow, so no work for me! I'll keep you posted on how my Australia Day turns out - most likely i will sleep, eat, watch trash TV with the aircon on high, sleep, attend a BBQ, then sleep. Not too shabby if you ask me.

Misshapen halos and mischevious grins

2011-01-18T23:31:00.007+11:00

My blog post title today comes from a poem about little boys, and pretty much sums up the pest perfectly. He is equal parts naughty and nice, sugar and spice, and that's just the way we like him.

I'm talking about Jack because today is his third birthday. There's something about that age, three. It's like you cross a magical threshold into big-boyhood. All little kids who turn three say they're now a big boy or girl, and yes, that's what Jack's telling anyone who'll listen at the moment. "I'm fwee. I'm a big boy now. I do poos in the toilet." Because when you're three, your biggest accomplishment probably IS doing a poo in the toilet. (Well done kid. Happy to see that life skill can finally be crossed off the list.)

Poo jokes aside, I'm astonished at how much he's changed this year. His talking was always good, but even I look up in surprise sometimes at the sentences that come out his mouth. I know I'm bias, but there's no denying it - the kid's smart. (What's that? He takes after me? Well. I didn't want to say anything...) His memory is second to none, he says words that I'm sure he's never heard before, and he is endearingly funny without knowing it. If you've had a bad day, go and spend an hour with Jack. I promise you'll be in stitches by the end - and you'll feel about a billion times better. Yep - Jack is my bad-day remedy, my go-to guy when things get a bit tough. He's pretty awesome like that.

Of course, the split personality of a two year old has meant that this has also been the year of the tantrum. So actually, you should call before you visit. Cause if the kid's in a bad mood, you may as well just stay home. I've seen some spectacular fits of hysteria in the last few months. If he hasn't slept and he's in a bad mood, it's a sight to behold. I should start selling tickets. It's the staying-power of the tears that never ceases to amaze me - there's actually no break in crying for like 30 minutes at a time. HOW is this possible?? More importantly, WHY is this possible?? Unlike the tickle me elmo, there seems to be no 'off' button - so when the tantrum cyclone hits, i tend to just run for the door. Somewhere else to be and all that.

The last 12 months have also revealed some of Jack's more specialised talents. Like singing. The kid loves to sing. Put him in front of a microphone (and trust me, we have), and its like he BECOMES a rock star. The creative genius simply cannot be contained. His favourite song right now is the Glee mash up of Confessions/It's My Life. I specifically mention the Glee thing because we HAVE in fact tried to play him the original Bon Jovi version of It's My Life, and he hates it. Can't stand to have it on for more than three seconds. After that, he claims his ears hurt, and we have to turn it off. This leads me to Jack's second specialised talent: lying.

The lies roll off his tongue like rain off a ducks back. Maria tries to tell us that lying is a sign of intelligence, a fact i believe I've mentioned here before. But lets not delude ourselves. Lying just means he's figured out how to get away with stuff. It's going to become a very useful tool at pre-school. I'm almost proud when i think of all the ways he's gonna dupe those other stupid kids *sniggers* Anyway, he's a liar, and Ive spend long minutes listening to stories about non-existent needles that non-existent ant doctors have given him, or about the dinner he supposedly ate. Or being told that he did not in fact make that mess, it was the other kid, whatshisname, he's the one who did it. When challenged, i actually heard him say in an agonised tone, "I told him not to do it." WHAT??? I had to laugh.

As i mentioned before - it's been a year of developing life skills. Pooing in the toilet was just one of several. My particular favourite? Negotiation. The kid should be working for the CIA. He'll negotiate the chocolate right out of your hand if your not careful. Before you know it, you're nodding your head saying "Mmm, yes, you want to watch Tom and Jerry another 50 times before bed...that sounds fair..." Like all the great orators in our family (me, Maria...me...), he can talk his way through and out of anything. It's not all roses though. There are some concepts he can't quite grasp. Like sharing. Or saying sorry. Or eating a full meal. There's plenty of room for improvement. Its lucky he's pretty sweet most of the time, so we can overlook these minor shortcomings...(that means we're turning a total blind eye).

Here's the part where i reflect: i can't believe the kids already three. I wish that time and age were slower, so he could stay little forever. Its sort of sad and not sad at the same time to see the baby disappear and the little boy emerge. Of course, our understanding of the time means we know that he's not going to stay a little boy forever either - one day he'll be a teenager (ugh), and then an adult. Which means, we better enjoy this while we can.

Happy birthday my boy. It's been fun terrorising you the last three years - don't think that'll stop any time soon. I love you xxx

You're invited to...

2011-01-17T19:44:00.001+11:00

Well. Nowhere actually. But i thought I'd share our wedding invitations with you now that they've all been posted and received (for the most part).

When we thought about our invitations, we wanted them to firstly set the tone of the whole wedding, but secondly be quite personal - we wanted to tell a bit of our story. So we some research and i found out about a new, up and coming stationary company who specialised in bespoke wedding invitations called Zed and Bee. It's run by two sisters, whom we met with, and they got to know us and our personalities a little before coming back with a few different suggestions for a wedding invitation. Since we both love music, and believe that music definitely influences memories, a CD invite seemed perfect.

We really wanted to create something warm and personal and kinda sweet - in short, we wanted people to WANT to play the CD. So we picked out a bunch of songs that meant something special to us in some way or another, included a few lines about why each song was picked, and let the girls create the beautiful watercolours you can see on the cover based on our brief, which was to evoke some of those beautiful album covers from the 60s and 70s - Joni Mitchell, The Beatles, that sort of thing.

When we finally got the finished product, we were beyond thrilled with the result. They look stunning, are really meaningful, and really set the scene for what we hope will be a beautiful, fun party for our us and our guests. Here they are!

Front cover and envelope

Inside - the CD itself, and the song list on either side with a sentence or two about why we picked the song.

The back, middle and front, opened out

The actual invite (with the where and when and who etc) and the RSVP

So we're back to Monday, by far the most insulting day of the week. This past weekend we went to Canberra to meet our wedding photographer (that's where she's based.) It was a bit of a risk, picking someone so integral to our wedding day without having met her - but it was worth it. She's fantastic - very easy to be around, chirpy and creative, and i think she'll take some amazing photos for us. We had an 'engagement shoot' while we were there - which basically meant she took a bunch of pictures of me and Jo trying to be lovey-dovey, but failing miserably. We were too busy laughing our heads off. Which actually made for far more appropriate pictures i think, because one thing i can always rely on is us being able to have a laugh.

And while we're on the topic of the wedding, i may as well point out that there are exactly 8 weeks to go. Freaky deaky right? There are a few rather important things we haven't actually done - like, er, get wedding rings...but other than that, i think we're on track. I'm predicting my meltdown to take place approximately 7 days out. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.

Last but not least - we'll be celebrating a VERY special Pesty third birthday this week. Full report to follow...!

Back to work. Again.

2011-01-13T19:50:00.007+11:00

We're all officially back at work after the holiday season. And there's really not a whole lot more i wanna say about that (cause it SUCKS!). Up until now though, we've had many pleasant distractions.

We've bowled, for example. I'm not usually one for sports, but bowling - i can handle that *winks* And we've seen a few movies. Little Fockers was OK, overall - same jokes, same laughs. You know what you're going to get, and you get it.

The Kings Speech on the other hand was, as all reviews will tell you, excellent. Highly recommended if you have the inclination for that sort of thing. And you won't often find three finer actors in one film either - Colin, Geoffrey AND Helena? That's a trifecta. It traces King George VI's quest to overcome his stammer with the help of his unconventional speech therapist, Lional Logue (played rather brilliantly by Geoffrey Rush if you ask me). Covering the pesky abdication that landed him in the job in the first place and the early years of the second World War, the film builds up to that one big speech that's got to inspire the nation once war is declared - and he can't very well stammer through it. Anyway. Just go see it.

And just the other night, we saw Morning Glory. I admit, i picked that one. And i admit, Harrison Ford makes the movie. But honestly, sometimes you just want to see a bit of fluff, you know? It's by no means deep and meaningful, but i wanted something silly and lighthearted, and. Well. That's what i got. Ford plays a professional news journalist who's relegated, much to his disgust, to morning television. Chirpy Rachel McAdams plays the up and coming young producer who has to make him see the error of his ways if she has any hope of saving the program from inevitable demise. And that's about the whole storyline right there. But it's cute enough. Maybe save it for a rainy day DVD.

In other news, we were thrilled to attend our very first Greek wedding on Saturday. You may hear the term big fat Greek wedding and think it's an exaggeration, to which i say HA! The alcohol and the dancing and the 'opa!'s' flowed all night, and when the music finally came to an end, the disgruntled shouts of 'Just one more!!" could be heard from the next suburb over, I'm sure of it. We had a ball, and must say thanks to our friends Con and Melissa for letting us share their special day - CONGRATULATIONS to you both, you crazy kids. Here are some picture highlights:

Jo and I outside the church

Turnsie pulling the same moronic face he does in every photo

The bride and groom!

Kama and Tony, who was one of the groomsmen

Dancing!

Kama and I (who enjoyed our champagne all night, let me tell you)

Con and Melissa cut their cake (what's with the dominating hand placement there Con...rack off and let the woman cut her cake.)

Awww, spesh.

Zorba!

A very happy Tony (whisky does that) and I

Of course, the last week has been spent staring in shock at images on our televisions of a flood-ravaged Queensland. 75% of the state has been declared a disaster zone, thousands and thousands of homes have been destroyed or badly damaged, many are dead or missing or homeless - and it's bizarre to see the Brisbane CBD half under water.

What HAS been pretty amazing is the attitudes of the people up there, who've just been so darn AUSSIE in their response to this whole mess. They've banded together and got on with things, and hardly any person has complained. Many have watched their houses slowly disappear under water with a beer in their hand and a shrug of the shoulders because hey, it could be worse. Or they're in their tinnies and kayaks with the dogs or on their surfboards or just plain swimming through the mud to get to their houses and take stock. Or taking care of strangers, or filling bags with sand through the night, or painting kids faces down in the evacuation centres, or giving the camera a big smile and saying "she'll be right", even though everything in they own is gone or ruined. We've seen all those traits that make us great - generosity and friendship, strength and humour - and I've no doubt that despite how bad things are, those Queenslanders are going to bounce back in no time, because in this country, we all actually give a crap about each other. Bless! And yeah. Makes me proud to be Australian.

2011 - what will you bring?

2011-01-05T20:20:00.005+11:00

Ohhhh new years. That night of nights, huh? Or not. I personally am never one for a big new years. Going into the city to watch the fireworks, making a big deal of it all...it's a pain. There's so much pressure to make the night amazing that it inevitably often isn't. No, my best new years are the ones we've kept low-key, with family or friends, at home or at someone else's home - fuss free, relaxed, no pressure.

So i was very pleased indeed when our friend Annie invited us to spend new years with her at her mother's penthouse apartment this year. Good friends? Tick. Views of the city? Tick. Plenty of champers? Tick tick tick. Awesome music? Tick. Can't ask for more on new years, riiiiiiight?!

But the day started well before that. As per tradition, we headed over to our friend Lewis's house that afternoon for the annual new years back-alley cricket game. And let me tell you, it was hot that day. Real. Hot. The kind of hot where the ice does nothing for your beers and the shade does nothing for your heat rash. Know what i mean?

My batting was superb as always (rules state that girls can use a real cricket bat, but lads have to use a hockey stick. Suckers.), but my fielding, admittedly, could use some work. Running away from the ball when it comes flying in your direction is apparently not acceptable. Backyard cricket or not. I say, my face comes first.

Lewis had the heat covered though, with that traditional Aussie summer staple - the plastic paddle pool. Which i refused to enter. No siree bob. 4 sweaty male bodies in that tiny thing? One word sums it up, and that word is Ew.

Back to our place for some pre-champagne champagne, and before i knew it we were at Annie's, where the good times rolled on till midnight. It wouldn't be new years without our good friend Turnsie and as usual, he was plastered before the 9 o'clock fireworks. He will of course try to tell you this is a lie, but don't believe him. His drunken dance moves, smugly recorded by Jo, prove otherwise. Oh yeah. He was hustling to Beyonce's Diva like a groupie on steroids.

Turns and I proudly display our bounty.

Why yes! That IS me pouring a packet of Smarties into Turnsie's champagne.

Obviously everyone was feeling the love by the time the midnight fireworks hit. Everyone except Jo, who in fact suffered SEVERE food poisoning over the entire new years holiday period, poor bloke. He was in agony - in fact he didn't drink a single drop of alcohol the whole night. Which not only sucks, but also proves that he really was sick. Cause that just doesn't ever happen. On the plus side, since he wasn't off his face like the rest of us, he managed to get some pretty good shots of the fireworks. (And we had a designated driver.)

Annie, me, Turns and Lauren

The evening was topped off by a visit from the crazy, middle-aged Eastern European neighbour (otherwise known as 'Russian Mafia Dude'), whose disturbingly open sexual prowess was just a little too free and easy for me. Yeah. I didn't bother to hide my sniggers.

The rest of our holidays was spent on my parents couch. Jo needed a few days of recovery time, so we parked ourselves at the parentals and spent 3 days watching movies and playing with the dogs. It was kinda nice to do absolutely nothing actually. And i forgot how great Inglorious Bastards was.

In other news, today i had my hair and make-up trials for the wedding. I'm super duper happy with how it all turned out, especially when i imagine the whole look with an actual wedding dress on. And hello, fake eyelashes are the best. I'm converted. Here's the look:

Not bad right? Alas, from tomorrow, it's back to work full-time. No more rest for the wicked either - January is already looking chockers, and before you know it it'll be genuinely time for the wedding.

And so i can finally say Happy New Year! I hope it brings much joy and happiness to you all, and that it's filled with as many adventures as I think ours will be. Bring on 2011!!!

May your days be merry and bright

2010-12-30T21:53:00.007+11:00

Christmas: tick.

Over and done with for another year, and in another day it will be 2011 and i will be shaking my head at how the year has flown. I do hope everyone had a great Christmas - we celebrated with friends and family as always, and it was a marvellous, boozy affair. Just as it should be.

But first, some of my Christmas cooking conquests. When it gets to this time of year, I'm always watching Christmas cooking specials. I don't know why. I get strangely addicted to them, and this in turn makes me want to bake. So i did! I made Christmas shortbread cookies, which i sadly burnt (they still tasted good i reckon, and so did Jo, who ate most of them). Here they are:

AND, i made Nigella's Cranberry, Orange and Almond pudding, which came out swimmingly, if i do say so myself. It felt very Christmassy indeed to pour a shitload of cranberries into saucepan and watch them pop....

And the end result looked BETTER than Nigella's, if you ask me. (I know. I too should be starring in my own cooking show. Petition coming soon.)

Our friends Kama and Tony hosted a Christmas booze-up (i mean party), which saw us exchanging hilarious Kris Kringle presents and drinking all manner of Christmas cocktails, my favourite of which was the Christmas in a Glass - prosecco and gingerbread liqueur. I mean you guys! It really IS Christmas in a glass!

She even made EGGNOG. EGGNOG people. Which by the way, actually has egg in it. (What? I was shocked.) Don't let that put you off though, its delicious. Or maybe i was just too "happy" (read: tipsy) to give a rats. Anythings possible. To top it off, they had a real tree - which pretty much crapped all over our fake plastic one.

Kama in all her Christmas glory

Jo and I

Me and my prosecco (and Tony.)

Getting home at 2am was possibly not the greatest idea the night before Christmas Eve, but what can you do. I pressed on and decided the best cure for a hangover was to continue the party. My team at work decided a long lunch was in order (who bloody well has to work on Christmas Eve anyway??), so we took ourselves off to Assiette, a VERY nice restaurant in Surry Hills, and proceeded to spend the next 4 hours drinking ourselves merrily into the afternoon. Back to work it was NOT, not after all those cosmopolitans, so i rushed back home to meet Jo and we headed off to my parents, where we camped ourselves for the next 2 days.

I knew we had to go to a big family Christmas Eve bash, but honestly, there was no way i was fit to go anywhere without having a nap first. Not if i was going to continue to abuse my body anyway, which was (naturally) the plan. Christmas Eve is traditionally celebrated with my Dad's side of the family - a rowdy bunch, and that's putting it mildly, so i knew that the food and drink would be flowing right through to midnight. Jo always says he has to mentally prepare for the event. It's usually at my parents place, but my cousin Frank hosted this year. I have no idea how i made it to midnight, but i did people, i did. Which means i basically endured 48 hours of eating and drinking nonstop. Which is pretty awesome, when you think about it.

The kids had fun with a snowman pinata - funny that when you give someone a stick and tell them to whack the crap out of something, their inner-caveman in unleashed. They actually went schizo. Wild look in their eyes, untamed bellowing...it was all there. When the poor snowman finally fell apart, they pounced on that chocolate like it was the last thing they were ever gonna do. And God help you if you tried to sneak a piece for yourself. I should know.

Max

Jack

Raffael, taking it all very seriously...

Chocolate madness

Christmas day dawned bright and clear and damn hot. Woot! Just the way i like it. We spent it with my mums side of the family at my parents place, and this year we had some old friends join us too, so that made it extra nice. I was well pleased with my loot (not that Christmas is about presents or anything. I totally know that.) Tom Ford sunnies from Jo, a fab Oroton bag from Maria, and cold hard cash from my parents.

Even my brother got me something. Normally his reaction to presents is an unintelligible grunt, followed by an "I forgot". What did you forget?? Christmas?? You forgot it was Christmas?? But this year he actually requested something specific from me, so he must have known there'd be no option but to return the favour.

Jo and my cousin Tony lounging with the dogs

A Christmas kiss from Reggie

My uncle tops the afternoon off with nap

We don't usually go with the traditional ham or turkey at our house for Christmas. Tradition for us is homemade gnocchi - the BEST you'll ever eat by the way, and literally the only time we make them is for Christmas and Easter. But this year we DID have a turkey, cause my uncle got it for free when he bought a new fridge. (*shrugs*. Don't ask me.)

Since we don't usually have one, i can't say we're entirely familiar with how to cook it. My parents solution was to just sort of shove it in the oven and hope for the best. When it came out, they spent 30 minutes arguing about how best to carve it. And then, my Dad wanted to throw out the stuffing. Say it with me people - WHAT??? THROW OUT THE STUFFING?? Everyone knows the stuffing is the best part! My Dad's attitude to food is this - if he doesn't eat it, no one should. Luckily, i stepped in and gave him an earful about not being selfish on Christmas, thereby saving the holiday for ourselves and for all mankind.

And that, folks, was Christmas. A few card games and lots of beer later it was all over for another year. Thankfully i haven't had to go back to work this week, so I've spent lots of quality time with the TV - I've had a stack of books on my shelf which i told myself i would absolutely get to over the holidays, but lets face it - an MTV marathon of 16 and Pregnant totally beats reading.

New Years Eve is tomorrow, but i don't make resolutions. I know i won't stick to them. I change my mind about things all the time, alas. I DO know that 2011 will be a huge and exciting year - lots of change, and lots of adventures. And it all beings very soon, so I'm going to bed, or maybe to watch more 30 Rock re-runs. I hope everyone has a great start to the new year - as my brother would say, go hard or go home. See you all next year!

Good tidings

2010-12-20T21:06:00.008+11:00

I know. My posts have been few and far between lately. But all the smart and beautiful people know that absence makes the heart grow fonder. Looking back over the past few weeks, i really could not even tell you what I've done - all i know is i can't remember the last time i was in bed before midnight, let alone home at all. But let's see what i can remember...

December started with a bang, as people across the nation celebrated my birthday. HA! Totally kidding. I was disappointed there were no fireworks in my honour though. I mean honestly. I expected more from the Labour Government.

We went to see the Chekhov play Uncle Vanya with our friend Kat, put on by the Sydney Theatre Company. Cate Blanchett, Hugo Weaving and Richard Roxburgh were stand-outs in an altogether marvellous ensemble cast, and we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

My oldest friend and bridesmaid is back in town for a month, so we've had dress fittings and catch-ups galore - and I'm pleased to say her dress is almost finished and looking lovely. AND. My dress is really coming along! I've had more fittings this month than ever, and it's looking beeeeeeautiful! My mum saw it for the first time, and she was blown away. I say this because she is hardly ever blown away by anything, so it must be good. Other wedding ticks - we picked and ordered our wedding cake and cars, and have officially covered all our musical bases. That's a bang bang bang right there. Thank goodness too, cause the damn thing's less than three months away now. Last on the wedding front - our invitations arrived! And they're beautiful and heartfelt and everything we wanted them to be. They'll be in the mail in the next couple of weeks, so I'm super excited to hear what everyone thinks of them.

We went to see U2 in concert, and they were fab as usual. I've seen them before, but Jo got these tickets for free, and as you know - if it's free, its for me. What i like about U2 is that they always sing their back catalogue - the songs that everyone wants to hear. All the favorites were in there, and including two of my all time faves, Where Streets Have No Name and Sunday Bloody Sunday. The set-up was pretty flash too - very transformers....

Sweaty and sung-out after the concert. Delicious.

And then there's Christmas. The season to be jolly. I'm sorry to report that I've become more than a little addicted to Christmas cooking shows this year. Chief among them is Nigella, mainly because i love her and want to be her best friend. Plus, she uses ingredients that come out of cans and bottles like regular people.

We wasted no time putting the tree up. I like to maximise Christmas tree time, because lets face it - there's nothing like twinkling lights and tinsel to get your Yuletide on. See?

Maria and I rocked the house at our work Christmas party, which had a masquerade theme. Cheap champagne flowed freely, and the masks were ditched approximately 60 seconds after these pictures were taken...

...but the drinking, you'll be pleased to hear, did not stop all night. And that, folks, was my downfall. All liquid. No solid. A novice mistake, i know, and I've got no excuse. I thought that salt and vinegar chips would be enough to tide me over, AND i thought there'd be more food at the party. Alas, neither turned out to be true.

I was, that Friday night, an instigator. So was Maria. It was excellent team work - we started congo lines and zorba circles, screamed at the top of our lungs to Bon Jovi and Bryan Adams, ensured all glasses were permanently filled with cheap booze and kept our co-workers abreast with all the relevant (and irrelevant) office gossip. If there's something to know, we'll sniff it out before anyone else, guaranteed. We're smart like that. And it didn't end there. When the official party ended, we rounded up the troops and headed off to the Retro for more drinking and dancing. Things went downhill pretty quickly after that i'm afraid. Champagne was ditched for vodka, and we found ourselves once more in the murky depths of the cheapest bar in town. Within half an hour, our friend Turnsie was booted from the joint. Things get hazy after that, but around the time my shoes started to literally burn my feet, i had my last clear memory, which was: "Must. Get. Cab." So i did.

The next day, tired and hungover, was not a happy one for Nell, so let's gloss over that quickly and move straight onto Christmas shopping, which is 90% complete only because most of the weekend just gone was spent in a shopping frenzy. The shops are adorned in festive glory....

...so it's nice to be out and about in all the merriment, except for the part where you want to kill everyone in sight. The toy section is particularly challenging, and again, I've erased the experience from my memory, so let's move on. I only want to say one thing, and that is that the number one rule of Christmas shopping is DON'T TAKE YOUR CHILDREN CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!!!!!!!!!! I mean DUH. DUH. It's madness!!! Bonkers!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE??? Get your Santa photo and get the hell out of my sight, and take your snotty kid with you for godsake, before they touch every teddy bear in the vicinity with their dirty, grubby hands. That is all.

On Friday night, we went to St. Mary's Cathedral for their annual Christmas carols, which was very traditional and quite lovely. You'll be pleased to know that I sang my little heart out, Silent Night's and all. The Cathedral itself has been dressed up for the season - come 8pm, it lights up in all manner of ways, looking very merry indeed - if you get the chance - go see it.

Here she is during the day....

...and here's some of what you'll see at night...

And now here we are, a few days away from Christmas and the end of another year. Time flies when you're having fun and all that. (It really does fly. WAH!) This mammoth post should have me caught up now, and there'll be more Christmassy goodness to report before the weeks out I'm sure.

Another cup of....?

2010-12-13T10:22:00.009+11:00

Right. I'm way behind in my blogging, i know, but life has been terribly busy as it always is at this time of year. Still, here i am, raring to tell you all about my kitchen tea (that happened over two weeks ago. I'm nothing if not fashionably late.)

We spend the whole weekend before cooking up a storm, so everyone could enjoy stuffing their faces with all manner of delicious things, as per below:

Speaking of guests, they came from far and wide for the event - some as far as New Zealand, like my mother in law (who provided the bunting for us to hang. If you don't know what bunting is, look it up.)

Maria and I were in a decorating frenzy. Garden party perfection was the goal. I will say right now that she's the worse perfectionist of them all - the kind that has you running around looking for mini-pencils your whole lunch break, but that's another story. In this case, her perfectionist ways paid off (even if i was left with that slightly dazed, just got hit over the head with a jackhammer look on my face).

There was, as you can see, food-a-plenty. Mini everything - strawberry tarts, scones, cannoli, pies, quiches...believe me when i tell you i was eating red velvet cupcakes for days afterwards.

Obviously you can't have a kitchen tea without games, but we decided against such classics as "make a wedding dress out of toilet paper", and stuck with easy things like a quiz about ME (and Jo, but who cares about him). And we had a lucky door prize - everyone got a piece of 1950s housewife advice when they arrived (which included such pearlers as "Don't greet him with problems or complaints - count these are minor compared to what he may have gone through that day." BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA) and later in the day i read out a piece of advice and whoever had the same one was the winner of the prize!

I know. Are we genius's or what?

Here's a few snapshots of my peeps:

Susie, Sylvana and Max in his wife beater.

The gals, Linda, Krisha, Kama, moi, Melissa and Sonali

Me (in my fab apron which i guarantee i will never wear in the kitchen, ever - thank Mel!) and Mum

Mel and I. That glass of pink champagne was full mere moments earlier.

Me, Rom, pukes and thats baby number TWO in her belly.

Ladies, including one of my awesome bridesmaids Christina and Aunty Margaret, both of whom came from Adelaide for the affair (thanks guys!)

Double trouble my arse. These boozeheads were trouble to the power of three.

Me and the lady that made it ALLLLLLL happen, my other awesome bridesmaid Maria

Z remained unimpressed by the days events

And then it was over! Just like that. All the planning and stressing and cooking and hoping for good weather....over in a flash. Which is exactly what the wedding is going to be like - all over before we know it, so i suppose i better enjoy the drama while i can. Once everyone left, we cracked into the serious alcohol - cosmopolitans all round, several times over - while i opened all of my gifts - THANK YOU anyone reading this who came, though i am, i promise, getting around to contacting you all personally. So generous, and my kitchen is now very well stocked.

Here we are drinking our first cocktail of the evening....(don't worry, there were other, non-drinking adults there to supervise the devil *cough* i mean Jack)....

Aaaaaaaaand here we are after the tenth. Eleventh. Whatever.

I really have to shout out to Maria who, despite her slave-driving ways, totally made the whole day happen. It was perfect and i loved it and i couldn't have done it without you. AND, to Christina, who flew in from Adelaide and spend the next three days doing what i told her to and not complaining once. She even put a table together. Cause Lord knows Maria and I can't even look at a screwdriver without breaking something.

More of a roundup on the last couple of weeks soon, as long as Christmas doesn't get in the way.

Happy birthday to moi ploise

2010-12-03T22:17:00.008+11:00

So it was my birthday yesterday. (I know. Hold your applause.) I feel a quick post in honour of my birth would be appropriate, even though i predict the pest will steal the show as usual.

Alas, i had to work, but my workmates and friends made it a nice day nonetheless (thanks for the long lunch and cake peeps!), and i had not one but TWO deliveries of flowers - beautiful roses from Jo and lovely lilies and champers from my BFF over in L.A. My good friend Turnsie arranged my annual birthday present treasure hunt, always a good way to start the day, and i got a necklace and earrings AND the Grease DVD from Jo too. Now he'll have no excuse for not watching it with me, HAHA sucker. David and Mel got me a ticket to Fame, which we went to see last week, and my brother supposedly got me something which he conveniently "left at work" yesterday, so we'll see when that makes an appearance. My in laws spoilt me with cards and scarfs and all sorts of lovely things, and Leah sent over a hilarious card and ring from the UK. Which all proves that there's nothing like a birthday to make you feel loved.

Dinner at my parents last night, and my uncle made homemade pasta for dinner, my favourite thing, and obviously Jack's too - as you can see, he enjoyed his share.

Afterwards it was all about the cake - and he went to great lengths to discover its whereabouts. "Where is the cake. Where is the cake. Where is the cake." I mean really kid. Look in the fridge. Out it came, in all its chocolate glory, and when he was told he wasn't going to get any, he threw his hands in the air in frustration and proclaimed "But i was a good boy! I ate all my pasta!"

For once he was telling the truth. My lone candle was lit, and happy birthdays were sung TWICE so Jack could blow out my candle TWICE. Then my dad breaks out the whisky (what? it was an important occasion.), and i decide to have some fun and tell Jack it's apple juice. The kid loves apple juice. So i say "hey Jack, want some apple juice?" and give him the glass. He takes a whiff and thinks why not - goes in for a slug before i snatch it off him with a jolly "just joking! Haha!" Then all hell breaks loose, and there's tears and screams and general patheticness about wanting juice. "OK, OK", i say, "i'll get you some real juice." "NO!" he wails, "I want THAT juice!!" Maria's looking at me like i'm getting what i deserve, which i probably am, but i drag him into the kitchen and get him some red cranberry juice in a tom and jerry glass, which seems to do the trick, so i'm the winner after all. It was a nice little break in all the fun.

I know. Cuters.

The great happy birthday sing-a-thon. PS, there were other people at my party, but who cares about them.

Sharing the cutting duties, as any great couple would

My lilies (thank Y!)

Aaaaaand my roses, in peach in white cause the boy knows i don't do red.

So, it's all over for another year. By this time NEXT year i will be a Mrs! Me, a wife? *sniggers* feeling sorry for Jo already.

PS - check out some of Jo's photography here! I reckon he's getting pretty good :)

Wedding bells

2010-11-23T20:20:00.006+11:00

A couple of weeks ago, we went to my cousin Lia's wedding - a very beautiful affair, with kind of an 'old Hollywood' feel to it. Maria and I spend all morning beautifying ourselves for the big event - hair done, nails done, make-up applied, ongoing fights with Jack to get ready...the usual. In the end, i had to promise him that Batman would be attending the party also, and wouldn't it be a shame if he missed out seeing him there? Lies of course. Didn't feel bad about it or anything.

Lia and her now husband Charles were getting married in St Mary's Cathedral, very grand, and perfect for a dramatic entrance as you can see.

Now, her pageboy was Max. I call this segment "When good idea's go bad." Max is not quite two, and its possible he found the whole experience overwhelming and stressful - i don't really know, and he couldn't really say. The simple fact was that when it came time for him to walk down the aisle - he said no. No thanks! Not interested. You have fun though. Still, it seemed a shame to waste the adorable tux, and his mother WAS Matron of Honour, so hell, let her drag him in. Which is fine, except it's a pretty long aisle. Plenty of time for a not-quite-two-year-old to go from sort of upset to totally inconsolable. The situation was made worse by the photographer sticking a camera with a massive flash in his face. That really brought out the screams. I'll applaud Susie though. Her face turned the agony into comedy. It said "I know. I'm sorry. I'm not happy about it either. But let's all just try to move forward."

The rest of the ceremony went without a hitch, and Maria and I actually got teary when Lia walked in, totally awesome veil and all, even though i NEVER cry at weddings and don't think I'll cry at my own. Max continued to give me the giggles - he was not ashamed to let out a miserable wail every few minutes, and at one point actually attempted to join his mother on the alter. I make fun of this now, but Jack is three times as stubborn, so I'm pretty sure I'll get my own back.

Here's Max, post-trauma:

And here's me and the pest -

Aaaaand here's me and Jo outside the church. (PS, i love my dress. Love. It. Just sayin.)

Then it was onto the reception, which was at the same place Jo and I are having our reception at, cause it's owned by Italians and therefore all Italians want to get married there. The downstairs area had been set up as both a dance floor and a chill out section in the back, where people could mingle. Upstairs was where all the tables were set up. They did this really cool thing which i loved, but forgot to take a picture of - a sort of photo wall, where they displayed a wedding photo of every single person on both hers and his side of the family who had ever been married - grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, everyone. It was very sweet, and kind of funny to see the old photos - like my parents. Dad with chiseled cheek bones, mum with long brown curls...the years have not been kind. (totally kidding guys.) (or am i?)

Here's the new Mr and Mrs (see what i mean? Definitely channeling that old Hollywood glamour.)

Me and my awesome dress. I mean David. Me and David. (And Frank's fat head in between us).

Mum and Jo (you'll note the boozing has already begun here. This will continue until we leave the reception at midnight. By then, Jo will have fallen off a stool in the "chill out" section, attempted to start a conga line with my equally boozed up brother, and have acquired the hiccups, which will not go away for at least 30 minutes.)

Me and Zara, who is actually known as Cheeks (cause hello?), and who on this particular evening chose to don her Dolce and Gabbana from Paris. Don't blame her, it was divine.

Lia, looking gorge -

Bridal table -

Maria, me and Susie -

(A word on Susie - she was approximately 15 years older than every other person on the bridal party, including her partner. As you would expect, this earned her the name Cougar, which my mother had no shame in calling out to her as she walked back up the aisle with him at church. Over the course of the evening, Cougar was adapted to the more suitable 'Susie Cougs'. And that, folks, is one that's gonna stick. *sniggers*)

All the girls -

Honestly, it feels like just yesterday that she got engaged - and now its all over! That time flew by. It's a cliche, but its true. I'm sure we'll feel the same way. And actually, going to someone else's wedding made me feel more excited about my own. I haven't been to one in ages, so i kind of forgot what all the buzz is like, everyone excited and emotional and all that. When it rains it pours though - next year, we have three other weddings, as well as our own. GAH!

Pop culture

2010-11-20T20:24:00.004+11:00

Movies and books and music, oh my. Let's get right into it.

So, two movies this week. We saw The Town, with Ben Affleck, on Tuesday (cause hello, cheap Tuesdays and all). I thought it was great! I mean not exactly an original concept or anything, but really enjoyable, and well directed by the Benster. It's basically a movie about bank robbers - four of them actually, a group of friends who've been in the robbery business for years. During their latest robbery of a bank, they take the female manager hostage, and although they leave her unharmed, is sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads to their downfall. Definitely recommended.

Last night, some friends and I went to see the latest Harry Potter movie. Y'all know i love Harry Potter. Must have read the books a thousand times, totally in love with Ron Weasley. So it kind of feels like revisiting old friends. Obviously, i loved the movie, as did my friends, but if you're not into Harry, a) there's something wrong with you, and b) don't see the movie. If you ARE into Harry, i have no doubt you'll love it too. It's the best one yet, and sticks to the events in the book like glue. I'm already trying to convince people to come see it with me again. GAH. LOVE. Honestly, i laughed, i cried, i cheered...(yeah. don't judge me. we all have our thing.) Anyway, at least I'm not like those fans who actually dress up as one of the characters when they go see the movie. Cause. They're out there folks. (Turnsie did try to convince me to bring a wand made out of a chopstick. I politely declined.)

Book-wise, there's been hits and misses. I've read so much that I'm going to filter it down to the best ones, although there's one meh book i want to mention - The Postmistress, by Sarah Blake. So many people raved about this book, and it was on all the bestseller lists...so naturally, i picked it up with great anticipation but it was just so MEH! I mean i was bored, if I'm going to be honest. Plus, i didn't like any of the characters enough to really invest in them. Set during WWII, it's told from the perspective of different females involved in the story. Some live in a small town in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, who are to some degree in denial about the war and America's potential involvement, and one in London, a radio broadcaster determined to give a voice to those living through it all in Europe. My other gripe is that i felt like the writer was trying too hard to write this poignant, moving war story, and that put me off. Others may enjoy this one, but I've read some excellent books set in this time period and this just didn't live up to my expectations at all.

On the flip side, there are three stand outs from the last few weeks. The first is a book of essays by the wonderful Joan Didion called Slouching Towards Bethlehem. It's a collection from the 60s, and mainly centres around her experiences in California during that time. Essay anthologies can always be hit and miss - but if they're a hit, i really enjoy them. I loved how this collection really felt like it came from a specific time and place, yet still felt relevant in some it's themes. And the writing itself, typical of Didion, is just good, solid writing. She tells it like it is, flaws and all, and she doesn't dress up her words. Things are what they are. Its hard to make one piece of writing both an essay and a personal memoir, but she always does it so easily. This probably isn't for everyone, but i really enjoyed it.

Next up is a book called The City and The City, by China Mieville. Holy crap, i have been RAVING about this book to everyone i know, and begging them to read it. I absolutely loved it, for it's originality and quirkiness and for the way he makes something so fantastical so absolutely real. I actually do not even know how to tell you what this book is about without making it sound totally bizarre, which it is, but in such a good way. It's set somewhere unnamed in Europe, and the premise is this - two cities coexist in the same physical location. The citizens of each city are required by law, custom and history to see and exist only in their own city, and not in the other, despite the fact that both cities, as i mentioned, exist in the exact same physical location. If a citizen of one city DOES "see" or interact with a citizen from the other city, whether by accident or not, they are in Breach, and that's bad news. When a young woman is found murdered in one of the cities, the Detective on the case becomes embroiled in something bigger that crosses borders and boundaries. The thing about this book is that it all sounds a bit out there, but the details are so well-realised that i really believed every word. I was so sucked into this one, and i just thought it was so original, so stop reading this and go read that instead. 100 out of 100 stars.

Last but not least is a non-fiction book called Eating Animals, by Jonathan Safran Foer. Foer is a great author of fiction books also, but I'm sure he would consider this book his most important work. As the title suggests, it's about food - in particular, eating animals. As I've gotten older, I've become more picky about the kind of meat i eat, not just because i believe if we're going to eat animals, we should be respectful of the fact they were a living thing before they ended up on our plates, but also because what goes into those animals also ends up in our bodies - ergo, the healthier the animal, the better it is for us. Foer himself is a vegetarian, but he doesn't kid himself (and i don't kid myself) that most people want to stop eating meat. And converting you to vegetarianism is not the point of this book - if it were, i wouldn't have read it. The whole thing is about eating meat responsibly - understanding where the animals we are eating came from, how they were killed, and most importantly how they were treated before that. A large portion of the book focuses on factory farming - so there are some pretty confronting issues discussed. But he gives you every perspective he can, and in the end, it's up to you.

If you don't know what factory farming is, this is his description - "it is a system of industrialised and intensive agriculture in which animals - often housed by the tens or hundreds of thousands - are genetically engineered, restricted in mobility, and fed unnatural diets (which almost always include drugs...)". Around 50 billion land animals are factory farmed every year around the world, and in America, 99% of all land animals eaten, or used for things like milk and eggs, come from factory farms. Personally, i'm very passionate about this particular issue - but I've found that people can get funny about it. They don't want to feel like they're doing something wrong by eating meat, and i totally get that. I just think that it's something that deserves more awareness, and perhaps we as consumers need to be more responsible about what we're buying and eating, where we can afford to be. Anyway, I'll stop ranting at you now, but if you've ever picked up a free range chicken, you've done it because you know its better for both the chicken and for you - which means i think you'll really like this book.

Two other small things - firstly, i am loving the Glee Christmas album, even though it makes Jo want to kill himself. I love Christmas, and I'm totally putting up the tree this week if i have time. And that means, those carols will be pumping. Secondly, how awesome is the new season of the Rachel Zoe Project people??? I know you all agree.

I'm off - gotta get an early night. Tomorrow I'm helping Maria make mini pies and quiches to freeze for the kitchen tea next week (*wants to cry*). But i will do it with a smile. (as if. i'll be whinging the whole day.)

Good vibrations

2010-11-15T21:38:00.008+11:00

So. A word about last weeks weather - it was awesome. Made me wanna run through the streets screaming I Love You Sydney! I Love You Summer! I mean, i didn't. But i WANTED TO.

To show out appreciation to the Weather Gods, we took ourselves, and the pest, to Balmoral beach. It really was the perfect day for it, and the best thing about Balmoral is that it's in a bit of a cove, which means the water is always warmer than you otherwise get. Because I'm one of those people that takes about 45 minutes to get in. I've gotten better as I've gotten older, but still. I'm not one of these dive-right-in types. No, I'm your splash-myself-delicately-to-get-used-to-the-temperature gal. Don't judge.

Jack and I braved the waters and had a marvellous time, but some chickens i won't name (Maria and Jo) didn't want to go in because despite the 30 degree heat, it was "too cold". Whatevs - you missed out kids. Being a kiwi, Jo doesn't much get my love for the beach. Maybe it's an Aussie thing, i don't know, but i literally crave it when summer starts to hit. The sand irritates him, for a start, and I'm not allowed back in the car before I've cleansed myself of any stray particle that might remain. The heat, well he can't stand that. I mean he can stand it, but he doesn't love it like i do. I say, bring on the humidity. He says, turn the air conditioning on. *shrugs* maybe I'm the weird one.

So, here's the pest. You have to admit, he has his charms. Even I gave a big ol' 'awwwww' when i saw this one.

Aaaaaand here's Balmoral in all its blue-skied glory...

After a swim, the best thing you can do is lie yourself down in the sun (sunscreen-protected, of course. I'm big on that, 'specially in this country) for a warm up....

Maria, me, pest

Uhuh. We sure do live in a beautiful city, country, planet.

To round off our productive day, Jo took the opportunity to teach Jack a few of life's necessities:

1. How to fart on people

2. How to give the finger.

Yep. That's why we don't have kids.

Happy happy joy joy (its the humidity)

2010-11-13T19:44:00.009+11:00

This whole week has been HOT. Not just hot hot either, but humid hot. And SUNNY. And STORMY. It's such typical Sydney summer weather and I'm in heaven. There's that sort of sweet-grass smell in the air, and Christmas decorations are going up, and there are mozzies everywhere and our doors are constantly open so the breeze comes in and it all points to summer and lo, a happy Nell is born.

So i haven't blogged in ages and my excuses are, busyness and laziness. It's just been one of those weeks. Last weekend was all about the wedding (not mine, and it's a whole other post away) and the crabs. Real crabs, not crab crabs, if you get me. We had some family here from interstate for previously mentioned wedding, and since the sun came out to play, we decided a seafood Sunday lunch was in order.

My cousin Ben makes the best crab-in-red-sauce ever, and so I spent the day happily nom-nom-noming, much to Jo's disgust. I believe he referred to me as "an animal", as he watched me ripping them apart and sucking them dry. But. That's how you eat crab. I mean I'm not going to use a fork for godsake. What's the point of that? But he's not much into shellfish so he doesn't get the love, and as Ben says, there's no point trying to convert them. Once you do, you'll just have to share.

The kids were a laugh as always -

Zara the chubster. (Don't worry Z, it's cute right now.
I mean. Hopefully you'll totally grow out of it though.)

"I'm sorry, what? You don't like THIS dress??"

Row row row you're boat, or something similar.

The Raffster playing a childhood staple, backyard cricket.

Christian. I'm pretty sure he's saying "I'm three, dumbass."

On Monday, we babysat Barney. Barney is not a child, as you may remember. He's a dog. But David doesn't like leaving him alone, cause he's precious like that, so we took him on Monday night. I was assured he would go to the door if he needed to go to the toilet, but a couple of poos and several wees later, i realised that wasn't going to happen. And that crap stank. Thank God we have tiles.

Barney

We tuckered him out in the end.

Other highlights from this week included our marriage class, the first of THREE we have to take in order to get married in a Catholic church. Although we were dreading it, Jo was a good sport about the whole thing (being the non-Catholic one), and kept us laughing for the three hours we were there. Yes, you read that correctly. Three hours. Times three classes. That's nine hours of our lives we won't be getting back. Still, if you have to be there you may as well make the best of it, and it wasn't as bad as we thought it would be. It's all very new age - what "couple style" are you (wtf?), and why men and women communicate differently (i mean really. duh.), and what sorts of feelings do you feel when you have a fight....and that's just week one. In week three we get to tackle fertility. I mean please. How can i contain my excitement until then?

It was boiling today. Downright boiling. Mum and I went shopping. Her search for an outfit to wear to the wedding continues (hint: try being less fussy.) We checked out the new Westfields in the city (very swish) before heading down to circular quay for a well-earned ice cream.

Trees in bloom

Mum!

This afternoon was so warm we had our first visit to the beach for the season. It was too late for a swim, but...maybe tomorrow! If it stays this warm. I think we're going to have a very typical Sydney summer this year - almost tropical, you know? Sunny and humid until about 4pm, when the clouds will roll in and then it'll be overcast and humid for the rest of the day, till it pours with rain. Gets a thumbs up from me.

The season is in full swing, and as always it seems that this time of year is ridiculously busy. Melbourne Cup has been and gone, which is the start of it all for me (even though this year I MISSED IT because i was sick), and now its all beach and kitchen tea, mum's birthday, my birthday, Christmas parties galore, and then it's Christmas and New Years and before you know it it's January and I'm moaning about the year flying by and frankly I'm tired just thinking about it all, so I'm off to watch Graham Norton.

Stuff i watch. (Seriously. That's all this blog post is about.)

2010-11-03T19:52:00.005+11:00

Right. So Jo and I have decided that since we pay good money for foxtel, we're damn well going to watch it. This may or may not mean we've spent an (un)healthy amount of time vegetating on the couch lately. I'll never tell.

We've made good use of our IQ button. We've gone ahead and taped about a billion movies and series linked many a bad reality TV show, and my ice-cream and jatz intake has tripled and I've turned into a fat lard, and now i really do feel like I'm getting what i paid for, and it is good.

What are the highlights, you ask? Let's review:

Movies

Changeling. You know, the one where Angelina Jolie plays a single mother back in the 20s who's kid gets kidnapped. Joy of joys, they find said kid, only it is not, in fact, said kid. See folks, police back then were totally corrupt. To return to the publics good graces, they go ahead and return any old kid back to Ang, hoping she simply won't notice. Good thinking guys. Angelina spends the next 90 minutes either in or on the verge of tears, desperately pleading for the police to please believe that this is "NOT MY SON!" Since she won't let up, they decide to chuck her in a mental institution, as you do. I won't spoil the ending for you, and jokes aside, i thought old Ang played the role very well. I'll give it a B.

Precious. Hands down the most depressing movie ever made. Ever, for reals. There's not even a particularly happy ending. It's just ALL BAD. First of all, she has an abusive mother. This woman's a real kick. Emotional torture is the nicest way to put it, and lets throw some violence in for good measure. Second of all, her father's been raping her since she was three. What a guy. She goes ahead and has his baby, who's born with down syndrome. Before walking out on them, Daddy impregnates her again, which means she has to drop out of school. But Precious wants to learn. A former teacher enrols her in a community college course, and for the first time, she's learning to read and write, even making friends. Then Mommy finds out. Says Precious better go ahead and give that up right about yesterday, and start lining up for welfare instead. Cause Lord knows Mommy could use the money. Baby number two is born, Precious is forced to move out and live in halfway house and guess what? Turns out Daddy had AIDS. And so does Precious. And if that ain't enough, the poor girl is utterly obese. This movie really disturbed me, and that doesn't happen much. Watch it to remember why your life isn't really that bad. B-

My Life in Ruins. TERRIBLE. It's got that actress from the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, which was Oscar-worthy compared to this crap. She plays a tour guide working in Greece who, through her group of misfit tourists, learns all about life and love and BLAH BLAH BALH. C-, and the only thing that saved it from a D was the Greek scenery.

The Taking of Pelham 123. Now this got panned when it came out, but i rather enjoyed it. I think it's because i love Denzel Washington. No really. I love him, even if he is fat in this film. A train gets hijacked in NYC, and Denzel's the unlucky guy on duty at the Rail Control Centre who ends up talking to the main bad dude, played by John Travolta who frankly, has seen better days. Anyway, Denzel's the only guy John wants to deal with after that, and from there, well, it's the usual action-y type stuff. People get shot, secrets come out, ransom is paid, train nearly derails...yadda yadda yadda and they live happily ever after. I liked it. A solid B.

The Hangover. We've seen it of course, but who can resist second and third viewings. It's movie magic. Naked chinese ninjas, tigers in the bathroom, vegas hooker weddings and a monologue about wolf packs. What more, i ask, could you want? My favourite line? "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Except Herpes. That shit'll come back with you." Amen. A+

TV

America's Next Top Model, Season I've Lost Count. I love these gals. The bitchiness does not fail to amuse me, and nor do the meltdowns and the tears and the fights and i especially love it when they have a makeover and have to chop all their hair off, suckers. That's whatcha get if you wanna be a model. Also, can Tyra Banks love herself any more if she tried? I really hope that one day she marries herself and lives happily ever after. The narcissism alone is worth watching for. A!!

Glee. My love for you will never die. When you have long breaks because of stupid things like the Commonwealth Games, (which by the way, nobody gives a rats about because a) of course Australia's going to win everything when our competition is England and New Zealand and b) the Commonwealth is practically dead), I want to cry. I need you, Glee, because you make bad songs like Jump popular again. Plus, you make musical theatre cool, which means there's still hope that I, too, can be cool. My dying wish is that you get Julie Andrews on. Then my life will be complete. Triple A+, and if you don't agree, you obviously need to apply for a new brain.

Relocation Relocation. Look, i like the Lifestyle channel. It doesn't make me a dork, so don't say it does. Even Jo watches this show with me, because hello, who can resist the cuteness that is Phil Spencer and Kirsty Allsop. It's all so British, and the scenery is always nice, and i like to see idiot couples make fools of themselves and faff about instead of making a decision. Faff is a English word, BTW, taught to me by this lady whose blog also gets an A+. She's pretty funny when she's not wasting time at work or being a total smartass. Oh wait, that's always. *sniggers* OK, so a definite A for Relocation Relocation. Moving on to....

Ace of Cakes. You guys, i don't even know why we watch this. It's about a bunch of people who work in a cake shop in Baltimore. BUT ITS SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT! Firstly, they make really cool cakes - not boring ones. Everything they make is totally original, as per the client's orders, which sometimes makes for some random shit. Secondly, the guy that runs the place is called Duff. And that's just plain funny. Thirdly, now that they've gotten more famous, they do cakes for lots of movie premieres and stuff - like, they made Hogwarts Castle for the Harry Potter premiere. I mean. That's just awesome. Right? RIGHT? B +.

The Real Housewives of NYC. OMG. These ladies are rich, and have awesome fights. That's all you need to know. Trash TV at it's guilty best and i am totally addicted. A for the excess.

So, I'm off to watch more TV, and y'all can thank me later for the suggestions.

Rugrats

2010-10-31T11:51:00.005+11:00

We've been uber busy, and now I'm sick. I blame Jo, who bought the sickness home, where its been festering in ever corner just waiting for me to inhale. He's been out of it the last 4 days, but I'm hoping i don't get it as bad, because my immune system is generally better than his, which is awful. The thing is, how are you supposed to avoid getting sick when you work in an office? It's the worst kind of breeding ground for germs. They LIVE in the air conditioning.

Maybe i should become one of those weirdo's that wear face masks everywhere.

So we've been in kiddie-land the last couple of weekends, doing the rounds, seeing the peeps, that sort of thing. I haven't seen Max and Joshua in a little while, and their cute-ness has increased by at least 20 points since i saw them last. A word on my cousin Susie - she went ahead and married an Aussie, and in a big Italian family, that can be a rarity. When it DOES happen, the union will usually produce an Aussie-looking child, which results in said child becoming a total novelty. That's what happened with Max. I mean look at him - does this kid look like he has an Italian mother at all? Sometimes she looks over and thinks "Who the hell is that Aussie kid in my kitchen?" It's hilarious.

Then his little brother came along and evened things up a bit. Joshua has the darker feature we're used to, which meant he was frankly boring for a really long time, despite Susie's attempts to up his profile. I mean we just weren't interested. Bring us fair-haired novelty child please.

But as he got older, i realised she had a point. Joshua was pretty cute. Look at this face.

We took Jack to see the dinosaur exhibition at the Australian museum, which he was sort of wary of, i think. Dinosaur toys are altogether different from life-size models. When you're a kid, you're thinking - this shit could come alive anytime. Get me the hell out of here.

He's been very entertaining lately. I don't even know how he comes up with some of the stuff he does. For example, this exchange:

Me: "Where's your mum?"
Jack "She's dead."

Oooooooo-k. I won't even try to dissect that one. Or this:

Grandma: "We have to change your nappy."

Jack: "No."
Grandma: "Yes, we have to change your nappy now."
Jack: "Don't you say that again or I'm calling the police." "Hello, police? Nonna is being very naughty and you have to come and get her."

Or you'll hear a crash from another room and his voice drifting down the hall - "I did nothing!!!" Yeah kid. Way to prove your innocence.

Luckily he does, at the tender age of 2 and a half, have his basic tactics sorted out. After we left their place the other day, Maria spotted ALL of his toys tipped out on the floor and asked him who had made this big mess. Caught like a deer in headlights, he reasonably did what any other person would in a situation like that, and that is blame someone else. "Jo did," he promptly responded. Nice one!

Lastly, his current favourite word is "fantastic." As in, "this pasta is fantastic." But he will also use it in the negative. About his juice the other day, he told Maria witheringly "This juice is NOT fantastic." Solid gold.

The pest

I have been doing lots of reading and movie-watching, but i don't have anything intelligent to say about any of it at the moment, because my brain is in ibuprofen-induced coma, so i'm going to go and curl up on the couch and make Jo wait on me for the rest of the day, or week. Who's counting.

From bandana to beanie (and the 80th birthday party that rocked)

2010-10-27T19:50:00.011+11:00

My aunt turned 80 last week. Quite an achievement, considering she's a chronic smoker with a bad attitude. And isn't that what we love about her? She encourages me to eat with my mouth open. She teaches me not to feel ashamed about showing strangers the scar from a gallstone operation i had 5 years ago. But most importantly, she inspires me to insult those around me on a daily basis, and use bad language when i do it.

Here's the old duck in fine form after 80 weary years on this planet.

Jokes aside - this lady doesn't love much, but she loves me. Some of my earliest memories are formed around her, and she's made life very entertaining. And, she's got pluck - you can't take that away from her. When i was 3 or 4, I climbed a ladder in the backyard and sat up on the roof of a two storey house for i don't know how long - she was the only one with the balls to come up and get me. There's been more than one bully to cop a mouthful from her. She doesn't take shit (but she's perfected the art of giving it.)

And so, in honor of her 80th year, we went all out and celebrated in style - at the local RSL. What can i say, she loves the buffet. My Dad, on the other hand, does not. He doesn't trust any food he hasn't cooked either himself, or by a fellow Italian. I think he had three plates of hot chips. What a battler.

My old man

Sam, Dad, John and Sophie

Sophie, mum and Mary

There were several pigs amongst us. I won't name names. I do, however, reserve the right to publish any photos taken by me, whether the subject of said photo is stuffing their face or not.

And here's the old gal blowing out her candles. Can't wait to take a bite of that.

Yep. We really rocked it out. (Note the stamp on my hand. Are RSL clubs trying to be trendy now by stamping you to come in and out? This is not a Kings Cross nightclub people.)

But enough of the birthday celebrations. I know what you've really been waiting for. Some months ago, i introduced you to my cousin Stephen and his questionable choices in the fashion arena. Saturday saw him sporting a beanie - the ultimate cold-weather accessory. Now I'm not one for wearing my beanies indoors, but that's OK. No judging on this blog. Besides, if i had hair like that, I'd be covering it up too.

Now, here he is in full-frontal glory. As the night wore on, and our jokes about him having Ellen Degeneres hair grew tiresome, he stopped cooperating.

See that fringe thing right there? What is that??!! No wonder i had to chase him around with a camera all night. For that special flair, he's chosen to sport a streak of brown in the front portion, while the rest of his locks remain blonde and tussled, like a lions mane. Unfortunately for my readers, our relentless mocking resulted in his refusal to shed the beanie for the remainder of the evening, so you won't be able to get the full effect. Some would call that selfish, Stevie. But not me. No judging on this blog.

I question the necessity of using the finger here. It's a little rude.

It's remarkably difficult to get the beanie positioned in such a way that the head remains fully covered EXCEPT FOR the fringe particle. There are two key elements - as you can see from the above demonstration, you must first remember to place the beanie over, and not behind, the ears, to ensure full mobility when arranging the front area just so.

Secondly, you don't want to pull the front over your forehead, but place it back from the crown, combing the fringe out and to the right, as pictured.

By the end of the evening, ridiculous measures were taken to avoid being in a picture. (Stevie, is this your hankie? Are your initials sewed into the corner?)...

... and in the end, i was simply given the hand, which, given my obsession with getting a shot of that bitchin' style cut, i took to mean: "Piss off, you psycho stalker".

Luckily, we remained friends in the end, and i was allowed to get a few proper frames (because after all, its the bad choices that should remain ingrained in time. Your children's children will enjoy it.)

Cuz's to the max

Ps: Stephen - Michael tells me that you spend an abnormal amount of time lying on your bed, surfing the net in your underwear. Please confirm.

Meanwhile, in the middle of nowehere...

2010-10-18T19:08:00.012+11:00

We threw caution to the wind this weekend and went away. Somewhere REAL nice. In fact i took Thursday and Friday off work just for the occasion, rebel that i am. Our destination was Eagle View Escape, about 20 minutes west of Lithgow. It's one of those "couples only" places that likes to boast all the "couples only" things you can do there. Like play tennis. Yeah, we were lining up for that one. Or "enjoy the property at your leisure". Which is just a nice way of saying "stop being so lazy and go for a walk."

We stayed in a cabin out in the bush...

...that had a big bed and a big balcony and a spa and robes and room service...

...and i pretty much spent my days being a booze hag. Cause if Jo's gonna bring me back two bottles of expensive champagne duty free, then Lord knows I'm gonna drink it.

The bush was our backyard for a while, which was nice, being that I'm a city girl at heart. I don't think i could ever forsake the city forever though. I even love the noise, which is weird right? And the smell. Jo is a country boy though, so he was in his element.

We walked in the wild, amongst the animals, just like regular Dr Doolittle's. (Although i will just say, Jo was a total baby. He was too scared to go anywhere in the vicinity of the roos. Thought they were gonna walk right up and sucker punch him. Like they don't have better things to do, like eat grass.)

The property had a grand river running right through it - the landscape felt so quintessentially Australian actually, and that was really nice. I say it all the time, and i mean it - this country is so unique, it can be harsh and stark and hard, but there's a real beauty in all that. I mean look at this - this is special, you know?

We decided to go ahead and be a couple for a while, since it seemed the thing to do at a "couples only" place. So here's some couple-y goodness for you to enjoy, or puke at, or pin on your walls. Whatevs.

I hung out with a goat for a while, since it was there, and had a collar, which everyone knows is the universal signal for "this animal is a pet." So. It was totally safe and all.

We had dinner delivered hot to our door...

And i had about a billion of these...

...cause hell, bubbles just get me excited.

So it was all very nice! I read my book and we watched a ton of old Seinfeld episodes, and drank to our hearts content, and became one with nature....what more could we want.

On our way home, it started raining. Or so i thought. "Why is it raining funny?" i asked Jo. To which he replied, "That's snow you effing idiot".

Huh.

Well! How am i supposed to know! I've never seen snow fall from the sky! Does it snow in Sydney?? NO! Would i venture anywhere in winter where it DOES snow?? NO! What do you take me for!!!??? No no, the cold and me, we just aren't friends. So anyway, it snowed. And then it cleared. And then it snowed again. And then it cleared AND snowed. Goddamn weather.

We stopped into the Blue Mountains on our way back, and decided a bit of a bushwalk was in order.

Here's the bush

And here's the view.

And here's me with a waterfall

And here we are, couple of crazy kids in love.
(*insert finger in mouth. vomit. continue reading*)

Before we headed back to Sydney, we stopped in Leura, a pretty little town up there in the mountains, for scones and tea. On this occasion, our scones came in a flower pot.

Both kooky AND delicious. And that was the mini-break, and now its over and frankly that's depressing. Lucky i have about a thousand and one other things going on to divert my attention from the fact that i won't have another holiday till my honeymoon, which is freaken ages away. Again, i bemoan the fact that i can't have my cake and eat it too. (Who came up with this ridiculous saying by the way. Why would anyone buy a cake they didn't want to eat??? It's expression number 351 in the English language that MAKES NO SENSE!!!)

Don't you love it when...

2010-10-13T23:54:00.003+11:00

...you get an extra long weekend? Like the one coming up?

(What's that you say? No long weekend for you, you say? Must just be ME!)

We're going bush. Luxury bush, where there be cabins with spa's and massive flat-screen TVs. But bush nonetheless. And there really is nothing more unique than the Aussie landscape. May as well enjoy it! (Champagne on the deck and all.) So long suckers! See ya in a few days!