2011 - what will you bring?

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!!!

Good vibrations

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.

To see the summer sky is poetry...

So wrote Emily Dickinson, and so say I! (I know. I may as well be shouting Hark! to the heavens while I'm at it. Whatevs.)

Anyway, my point is - Summer is soooo totally on its way peeps. We've had like 4 hot, steamy days in a row, and yeah OK, today it all took a turn for the worse, but this has surely got to be the last winter chill right? RIGHT?

PLUS, its true - there's nothing like a summer sky (hey, cheese ain't a crime.) This is how i know it's coming...

*giddy* Even when the clouds roll in before a storm, its way better. Y'all know I'm right. In other news, Jo and I went to see that Joaquin Phoenix movie 'I'm Still Here' last night. It was hella weird. And we were in a cinema full of those arty types who clap in the particularly 'inspired' moments, or make comments like "He's a genius" after the credits roll.




Pfft, i wasn't impressed. I mean i get that it was meant to be performance art and all, but still. The premise is this - remember like a year or two ago when he went totally whacky and grew a beard to rival that homeless dude on George St, and did that Letterman interview where he came across as a total douche bag, and said he was retiring from acting to become a hip hop artist? Turns out it was all a hoax (as was rumoured at the time), and his brother-in-law Casey Affleck was filming it all to make a mockumentary as a commentary on celebrities and their interaction with the media. Which is fine, but WTF is with all the penises in this movie, seriously? And what does that have to do with celebrities and the media? Also, do we have to see him ordering hookers and then doing the dirty with them? Or sniffing coke like a giddy teenager? Or see his friend crap on his face? Yeah. I just said that. I mean I'm no prude, but what were they trying to achieve by doing this? Cause hoax or no hoax, the dude comes across as a class A idiot. I'm all for art and challenging social norms and pushing the boundaries of film and performance, but honestly, i didn't get what the message was. The media didn't even feature that heavily, and when it did, it was mainly about all the rumours that were around at the time, about his behaviour and his look and his supposed new career. Which is to be expected. I mean you can't be a movie star without the celebrity. It might not be fair, but its true. And a lot of the time, that celebrity is what keeps them interesting to the public, and therefore employed. I reiterate - its not fair, but its true. Anyway, there were interesting moments in this film, but on the whole, i walked away wondering if it was worth it for him. Cause he hasn't done a movie since.





Jo and I have a new thing, which is, we walk everywhere. My friend Faatasi got us into this, since he's dropped a ton of weight via this method, and since the weather's been warming up and the days are getting longer, we thought - sure. It beats dieting. On Saturday we walked from our place to Surry Hills, which took an hour. You see a hell of a lot more on foot. We combed the cute side streets and had ourselves a delicious lunch in a sidewalk cafe - pulled pork and chutney sandwich anyone? Oh Lord, thank you for pork, the most delicious of all meats. Amen.

Please note the sleeveless dress.

Loves me some tree-lined streets...


...and urban art...

...and flower stalls all in the same square block.

Apart from walking all over, our weekend was spent catching up with old friends, and of course the pest, who never fails to get a laugh. Maria and I cracked open some limoncello, the authentic stuff actually FROM Italy, that's like, 80% alcohol, 20% other stuff, and understandably Jack wanted in. I didn't see the problem, (what? it's not like he's a baby. he's two. and a half.) but Maria yelled the house down so i had to wait until she had her back turned. He stuck his tongue in the glass, pulled back in alarm, eyes popping, and exclaimed "Whoa!" in sort of a stoned teenager voice, then laughed. Totally worth getting in trouble for. He didn't want anymore by the way. Thanks to me, he probably won't touch the stuff for the rest of his life. Now that's parenting.

They've definitely made sure he knows his good words from his bad words though. Peter accidentally dropped the F-bomb in front of him, and he wasted no time whipping around, pointing his little finger in his face and saying, quite crossly, "You can't say that bad word Daddy! Or you have to go in the dungeon!" The dungeon is an excellent form of punishment, by the way. It's actually the laundry, but its prime position under the house makes it perfect for threatening naughty two year olds. Gives the poor kid the shakes just thinking about it. *sniggers*

Pest-mania

Incidentally, i just watched the Britney episode of Glee, and Brittney, Glee's Brittney, is totally awesome. I have a new respect. Long weekend coming up, and daylight savings starts on Sunday. So. Pretty much all manner of awesomeness reigns. I have some book reviews to do too, but i can't bothered tonight. Next post though!