brief update

It's been a while since i posted. Reason: i'm on holiday.

I will be on holiday for another 2ish weeks. So far we've seen a little of hawaii (fun and WARM) spent some time with my mum (HEAPS OF FUN!) and now we are running around the north west usa. Currently i am typing this post from my brother's room at Walla Walla. It is so nice to see my brother.

I just wanted you all to know that i'm doing well and having fun and still alive. Take care, more pictures will follow soon...probably.

OH! one more thing. I managed to get my hands on 7 seasons of buffy for the amazing price of $140! i'm so happy. my fangirl self is going on a buffy fest...possibly while we drive around the North West USA:)

Photo update from Hawaii

Hubby - with one of the many fountain's in Hawaii that we found adorable.

So far...

If you missed me...thats sweet.

I've been navigating international airports for the last few days. So far i've flown into Hawaii just in time to see a burned out plane next to the airway. Chris assures me that its for training purposes, but i still found the fist sight on landing a little intimidating. Between that and the turbulence, its a bit scary.

I'd upload pictures, but the computer hates me. Perhaps i can make it fall in love with me yet...we'll keep trying.

xoxox
your faithful but lapsing blogger

fangirl rant

It wasn't that long ago that musicals were considered my "mother's entertainment". Happily, they have come back in style. Joss Whedon (yes my fangirl-ness continues) has created another musical with a twist.

Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog has not fully been released yet, but the first two episodes have been jewels. The humour and sensarity in each song and in each line makes me appreciate good writing even more. The series has been excellently acted by former child star Neil Patrick Harris, former Firefly captain Nathan Fillion, and by Buffy extra Felicia Day. The entire show is directed at an internet audience which is a big budget first. (and yes i do appreciate it)

If you haven't seen any good television lately, switch over the internet. Joss is serving up the deserts online!

Diaries...its all about perspective

DOG DIARY

8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 PM - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 PM - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 PM - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 PM - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 PM - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 PM - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 PM - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!



CAT DIARY

Day 983 of my captivity.

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.

They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are
fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets.

Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I
nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only
thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape.

In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomit on the carpet.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their
feet. I had hoped this would strike fear into their hearts, since it
clearly demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made
condescending comments about what a 'good little hunter' I am. Bastards!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was
placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I
could hear the noises and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement
was due to the power of 'allergies.' I must learn what this means, and how
to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my
tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking.I must try this
again tomorrow -- but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches.

The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released - and
seems to be more than willing to return. He is obviously retarded.

the hair cut montage

The Hair cut Montage:

stream of consciousness writing

I haven't had much to say lately, not because my brain malfunctioning, i just don't know where to start. I once had someone tell me to start writing and i'd figure out what needed to be said. So here i am, writing, without much of a purpose other than to get a few things off my chest.

The big thing at the moment is mortality. I have never had a problem with death. Or at least, i have never had a problem with my own death. Not that i'm suicidal, i just don't fear it. Yet, somehow when other people die or it becomes apparent that they could leave my life, i get clingy. How dare they be removed from the land of the living! Like with most of my life, i am terribly selfish. No one should die before me.

Saturday mocked me.

As i sat in church i heard the prayer for Mimi. Mimi is a dear friend of mine. She is my adopted grandmother. She is always so concerned for everyone else. The prayer ended. The pastor got up to speak the sermon. He prefaced his sermon with the announcement that Mimi had suffered a stroke that morning. I left church and called the hospital.

She was "stable" i was told. The rest of the day i spent on the verge of tears wondering what "stable" meant. Could she speak? Was she mobile?

It was that evening i found out that another woman i was close to as a child passed away. Mama K was the stern yet funny old lady who had a day care in her home. She looked like a grandmother. She treated everyone like they were her children and their business was her business. I loved her. I brought her back a spoon from Australia for her collection. She was very excited. I didn't see her again for several years. I wasn't sure she remembered me when i saw her at a friend's wedding. That was the last time i saw her.

The weekend was emotionally exhausting. The week has been numb. But Mimi gets out of hospital today. She is doing well. She has all her movement and a little slurring of her speech, but she's okay. I think i will be too.

rapid aging

I am definitely getting old...no...not "getting" old...i am old. I have determined this fact from watching girls merely 2-3 years my junior with their partners.

If you ever need to feel mature, go to the local hang out spot and watch the couples interact. If you last more than 20 minutes without feeling ill, you're either in a very good town (send me the name of the town, i'm willing to move) or you're part of "that age group".

"That age group" is categorised by their screeches. Their sickeningly sweet displays of affection (usually meant for the public's attention) and their speech impediment that makes every other word sound like "sex!"

I'm certain that any doctor in the country would recognise that spending more than 20 minutes in the presence of this is bad for your health. It definitely caused my rapid aging!

brief update

It was almost 2 weeks ago that my contract expired. This should have meant lots of time for blogging and writing. What it has actually meant is a lot of time spent not in front of a computer.

It's kinda nice actually. I had forgotten what the sunshine feels like and how wind whips around your body on fine autum days.

Actually i lie. I've been in the gym...i get limited sun and no wind. But i've tripled the amount of weight i can lift! and that makes it all worth it, right?

the female breakdown

Academics are studying three of the most written about public figures of our age:Britney Spears, Lindsey Lohan and Amy Winehouse. These academics are looking for reasons why media swarm around them in their moments of trauma...unlike the way the media reacts to their male counterparts.

One suggestion is that every story about these women is a "cautionary tale". It tells women they can not have a family and a profession.

Another theory is that readers like to see celebrities who "have it all" loose it a bit because it helps them feel better about themselves.

Personally i like the theory that these are cautionary tales. While i can see many male celebrities have similar break downs, i don't see the media fuss over them like they have these women. Women are expected to be able to "hold it together"and when they can't, it only goes to "prove" that women can not lead a "man's life". (there were too may "" in that sentence. forgive me) This in turns put women back into the role of passive observers and obedient buyers.

"Britney's having trouble with the courts again. She can't take care of herself. I can though, and i'll prove it by buying face cream. See i'm caring about how i look. If i were her, i'd never go out looking like that"

We might not go through that exact thought process, but the result is meant to be similar. Tabloids are not about selling stories, but selling advertisements. The stories are there to help guide readers to the products.

But what is your theory? Do you think these are cautionary tales? or are they simply a random coincidence of women's meltdown?

so we're workin' on it

yet again i confess my devotion to joss whedon...i'm sure he would be a little creeped out to know a complete stranger is "devoted" to him...but hey, he produces good shit!

fun with tax papers

After spending 3 hours on my taxes (for my country of birth), i have realised something. My country of birth has dyslexic and confused people working in their highest levels of taxation.

It is the only explanation i can come to for the reasoning behind the way the forms are presented. They start out reasonable. "start at the top", but about a third of the way down they go into a strange vortex of obscurity. "Add line 41 and 34 minus line 62 on form 3311" Your frantic scrambling to find each line only ends in frustration as you realise you have not yet begun form 3311 and can not go further on your current form until you work part of the way through the other form. You begin form 3311 only to discover that on line 22, you will need to subtract your total income from your first form with any deductions from form 4231.

By this time you've probably lost the first form, but don't worry, its probably under that 6 foot stack of papers you may or may not need to fill out the next form.

Needless to say, i dislike tax time.

We now return to our regular posts

About a week ago i joined the gym. I have thrown myself into a work out program with the force of a wrecking ball. Two hours a day i train. I am determined to train hard every day of the week.

I have known this day was coming for quite some time. I've talked about it to my husband and to a few friends, yet, the reaction to my new drive has been met with an assumption that i was a little taken back by.

You see, i recognise the fact that i have the upper body of Pamela Anderson and the butt of Roseanne Bar but i'm happy with that. I don't feel a need to loose weight. I do feel the need to get my body toned up for an overseas trip in which i will have to keep up with my mother. (which has generally been difficult since i was about 5) She has energy reserves that she keeps in her purse. On more than one occasion, i've wondered if my mother is really a robot. Or maybe the energiser bunny in disguise. So before i go on this trip, i wanted to be sure i am fit enough to go shopping with her. This means training.

Yet, at every turn, i am asked how much weight i want to loose. There is an assumption that the only reason i am training is to drop a dress size. I can't decide if the reason for this assumption is because people honestly view me as "THAT" big, or the idea of a woman in the gym has to mean she is there to work off the kilos. Either way, i think i'm a bit offended.

Jerry's idea

It was mid morning when Jerry awoke. He had managed to find enough to food the night before to quiet his empty stomach and had rested quite well. He had just awoken from a dream. In his dream he had seen a man walking along a busy road handing out books. It had given him a great idea, but he couldn't remember it now.

He stared at the wall until the idea began to reshape.

By the time the others awoke, he had a plan. He knew what to do with the films.

He explained his plan to the others and although they felt it was going to be hard to do, they agreed. There wasn't a lot of other plans happening.

It took a week to organise, but a week later, the films were being screened at an old cinema house. Those who were invited were encouraged to bring cameras and create copies of the films they watched. They could be distributed in the same way again elsewhere.

Carmen liked this plan. Some one would eventually put it on the net, but it wouldn't be them. Gerard would blame them for the leak. He might even catch them, but he couldn't lynch them for putting it online.

Carmen smiled as she watched an old black and white film. "Artwork was meant to be seen" she thought. "No use keeping it in a closet".

The silver screen actress blew a puff of smoke from her lips and swooned at a perfectly styled silver screen man. The man caught her in time and placed a passionate closed-mouth kiss on her lips. And the curtains closed on the film.

The end

Carmen (part 5)

Carmen never said much of anything. She didn't believe in words. They were to corruptible. It was too easy to say something you didn't quite mean.

She did believe in film and theatre though.

The scripts could be fine tuned. They could be carefully sculpted until the meaning was perfectly clear. They were pure.

This is exactly why she chose to be a part of this. It had started when they had found out a big entertainment company planned to destroy their old films unless the public paid a grossly overpriced fee for them. Those who had originally been involved in making those films had long ago passed away. There was no one to speak for those films. Many of them were classics. They were works of art. The loss of them, Carmen felt, would be cultural murder.

That is when the four of them had come up with an idea to make copies of these films. They didn't mind if a rival distribution company sold them, but it was important to preserve them and make them accessible to the public. After all, what good is art if it is never seen?

They found a man who agreed to get the films to a company overseas that would pay for the films.

Jayde agreed to be the one to procure the films. She posed as a mistress to an entertainment executive. It took her 3 months to get access to the films. She got copies and then spent the better part of 2 weeks trying to get out.

Carmen tried not to think about what Jayde had been forced to do to gain Gerard's trust. It really was best not to think too hard on that. It would undoubtedly involve Clive.

The sound of the car broke into her thoughts. The highway's natural cracks were making the car vibrated at a lower frequency.


6pm does not come quickly in a car. So when the car came to a stop, the exhausted occupants slunk into Fredrick's safe house. Fredrick's safe house was also solar powered which meant that light bulbs were shunned for natural light. There was little natural night left. They didn't care. Carmen layed down on the couch while the others found their own space.

escape (part 4)

"Do you know Clive?" asked the American. "Clive is going to deliver your goods to Mr. Gerard".

Jayde closed her purse. Fredrick clutched his bat. Jerry cracked his knuckles. Carmen sat quietly.

"This is not for Mr. Gerard" said Jayde.

"It belongs to Gerard's company and he is willing to pay for its return" the American grinned.

Fredrick growled. Jerry and Carmen stood up.

"We're leaving" said Jayde.

Clive reached into his pocket. Carmen grabbed his hand and broke his wrist. The game was suddenly turning violent.

"What are you doing?!" screamed the American. He was nearly frantic "That film belongs to the company! They'll hang you for this!"

Fredrick led the way out. Jayde and Jerry followed. Carmen made sure no one else was interested in following as well.

Jayde knew the American was right. In the last five years there had been two cases where people had wilfully stolen property from Gerard's company and posted it on the net. Both cases had ended in the victim's execution. Their families were then billed for the expense.

The four got back into the car. The sun had warmed the car to an unbearable state. With the windows down they drove off.

There was silence until Fredrick asked, "What do we do with the film now?"
asked Fredrick.

Jerry said, "I'm still hungry".

Clive (part 3)

It was 1 pm before anyone said anything.

"I need food" said Jerry.

"We're almost there" replied Fredrick

Carmen didn't say anything.

'There' was the next exit and it was only a few miles down the road. Stepping out of the car, the heat of the day hit them. Shimmering mirages danced off the tar sealed parking lot.

The petrol station they had stopped at had a restaurant inside. It wasn't anything special, barely even a diner.

They had just sat down when a tall man with a black gottee joined them. "Did you bring it with you?" he asked Jayde in his thick American accent. She barely nodded. "Then get it out and hand it over!" he demanded.

She opened her purse. As she reached in, she stopped. There was a sweet musky smell wafting around her. She looked up. It wasn't coming from the American so she looked around. Behind her stood Clive.

Clive believed above all else that any day a model agency would discover him. Therefore he dressed like a model. Which really was a massive insult to all models, possibly worse for designers.

Every part of Clive's wardrobe was over exaggerated. His over large shirt had 'decorative' holes cut into it. Florescent green hot pants and thongs completed the look. His hair was gelled to stand at all different angles. He apparently bathed in Cologne.

While Clive believed he was destined for the cat walk, he spent his real life posing as a hired thug....a hired thug who preferred pistols to actual fist fights.

part 2

Her car finally stopped in front of a large building. She collected her things and got out. It was early morning now and the sun was just starting to peak. The cold morning air brushed her face. She drew her coat tight and ran inside. It was an apartment block and she rented a flat on the third floor. Her quick steps making no noise on the carpeted stairs.

As she unlocked the front door, she noticed her feelings of unrest remained with her.

She opened the door and walked in. The place was elaborately decorated in reds and golds. She went for the bedroom and emptied the contents of her purse on the bed. A small camcorder tumbled out. Several envelopes and scraps of paper also found themselves unceremoniously scattered on the bed.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. She allowed herself to fall back and closed her eyes.

It was a smell that awoke her. It was the kind of smell men have after they've spent 30 minutes in the bathroom. It was a sweet musky scent.

Jayde sat up.

Quickly gathering the contents of her purse, she went to the window. There, the fire escape offered a less than dignified exit, but she took it. Not looking back, she silently left the apartment.

At the bottom of the fire escape she ran into Fredrick. He was a nice man, but he often carried a cricket bat in case he needed to be a not-so-nice man.

Today Fredrick was carrying the cricket bat and looking at Jayde in a less than friendly manner.

She considered her chances of escape. Not great in a dead end ally.

Fredrick motioned for her to follow him. She did.

Clutching her handbag, she followed Fredrick to his car. It was parked on the street, in front of her own. She noticed that her tired had been slashed and the front wind screen broken. From a brief glance, it appeared the steering wheel had been removed. At least there was little chance it would be stolen.

She slid into the back seat of Fredrick's hybrid Toyota. Fredrick cared about the environment.

The car already had two other occupants. Jerry sat in the front passenger seat. Carmen sat next to Jayde. Fredrick drove off.

unsettled

It was a cold and windy night. The world felt unsettle. Not that Jayde could really tell, but it felt poetic and that always just felt right. Wasn’t there a song that suggested that if it felt good, it must be right? She couldn’t quite remember but she was confident in the thought.

At 3am she left. She carefully closed the door behind her. She didn’t wish to wake anyone. She fumbled in her pocket for the keys and found them. “There was a car around here, somewhere”. She felt her way to the sidewalk and then to the curb where her car was parked.

Unlocking the door she got in and started the engine. She wondered if people would wake up to the sound of her ignition. It didn’t really matter. It would be too late anyway.

As she pulled away from the house she looked back in her mirror. The porch light had just flicked on. She turned her eyes to the road and sped on. It was time to go.

Poll results

Of those those who have ventured into a past art form of Theatrical performance, musicals seem the way to go.

From My Fair Lady to Sound of Music to Rent and Chicago, the musical realm is full of exciting beats and jazz hands. Perhaps it is the musical element that draws you to watch these stories unfold. Or perhaps it is the chance to watch men dance without spray on pants. (the Nutcracker will never be the same for me after watching the Ballet)

For me it is the way a production can deal with some times heavy content with humour and song.

However, the main thing we can learn from the polls is...not everyone is interested in having a say in this poll.