Saturday, August 21, 2010

A Very Potter Musical



This is something i've been wanting to share for a while. Princess put me onto it, and maybe I'm like the last to know. For out of the morass of Potter parodies has risen A Very Potter Musical, written and performed by a bunch of University of Michigan students/fans of the Potter series.


I LOVE IT.


I have watched all of the first, and half of the sequel.


Check it if you are - or aren't - a fan. It's all on youtube in sections, and it is fabulous stuff. Especially the homo-erotic grafting of Voldemort onto Quirrel in the first one, and the cuteness of Draco Malfoy. If it is possible to have a crush on a girl playing a supposedly evil [yet misunderstood boy] then I have one. If it is possible to have a crush on yet another actor playing Ron Weasley, well then I have one of those too.


As an aside, it kind of took me back to Trapped in the Closet, another beautiful find but of a very different ilk. I might feature that next.


So let me take you to A Very Potter Musical - Act 1, Part 1:









Friday, August 20, 2010

Do you swing?



I don't understand people who swing vote, I just don't. I'd like to understand their psychology more, so maybe someone can explain it to me.
I guess I'm a small swinger. I have swung in the past between ALP, Democrats and Greens, and tomorrow I am voting Greens. It's a vote of principal I guess, plus I'm in a safe Labor seat, so I figure it's as good as voting Labor. I don't want Labor to lose but I do want them to move a little bit more left. But I did hear the left is well and truly dead in the ALP and anyone who thinks otherwise is kidding themselves. I am a leftie at heart.
Last election I voted Rudd which was more a case of "we can't let that cunt get back in" rather than "Rudd's so ace, he the man."
When I was young, I remember the day Gough got his arse kicked. My parents were shocked and quite devastated, more because (I think) they couldn't believe that it had happened, and though my dad was a member of the ALP and I helped hand out the stuff (IT'S TIME) at the polling booths (I think, I remember a march as well) my memory is that it was more the principal that they were annoyed by.
I have always been a Labor girl. I had friends who when they were 18 voted for Hawkie more as a rebellion against their staunch Liberal parents (I went to a posh girls' school, lots of parents were Liberalish.)
About tomorrow's poll. I am not rigid with fear though I think it will be close. I tend to see the whole thing as a big stupid game and maybe I am lucky in that MY day-to-day life is not really affected by a Liberal government being in power (other than that my mental health suffers and I find myself being angry all the time. During most of Howard's "era" I had to stop listening to radio and reading the newspaper. It all made me too angry and I felt so impotent.)

In other news, going to see "Westside Story" tomorrow with Princess and my Ma. Looking forward to it. Yay us, 4 rows from the front, awesome.
Have a good weekend and happy voting.


Thursday, August 12, 2010

happy thursday

Just looking through my notes and I have a list of "songs for old diaries."

I think these must be songs that I was listening to, or provide a backdrop to certain moments in my old diaries.

This one is for Patrick. This is his backing track.



Sunday, August 08, 2010

coupla books done

So, I'm still reading Rose Tremain's Sacred Country and loving it.

In about the middle of it I picked up The Mother's Tale by Camilla Noli. I'm not sure what to say about this book. I read it very quickly, the ending was unsatisfying and the writing was too removed and sterile for my liking. I love removed and clean, pared down is what MJ Hyland is great at. Others don't like it, I do. BUT this one. Meh. There wasn't anything new about the story, no reason why the main character behaves as she does, she's quite repulsive actually, and not just because she's a child murderer.

Then I raced through Rocks in the Belly by Jon Bauer. He writes beautifully, just the way I like, and I was intrigued by the story. The main character (at various times an eight-year-old boy and his twenty-eight-year-old adult self) is not likeable and is very messed up. I don't want to give things away in case you want to read it, and I would recommend it, very much, but it left me with a chilling feeling, and I've been looking over my shoulder at shadows for the last few days. I look forward to future books by this author, he's got the fucking goods man. That's all I'm saying. So good to read a new author who is fab BUT he's not Australian, not yet anyway, and so we can't take credit for him.

And that's about it. A quiet weekend, quite a few OC eps, we are almost at the end of Season 3 and Princess and I still love Seth Cohen. Geelong lost the game last night which is a poo but let those Pie-Boys have their fun, and if they end up winning the Grand Final, we Geelong supporters will be safely out of the country, lazing on a Mediterranean beach in the south of Turkey, and I won't have to try to be a gracious loser... Caught up with a dear school friend last night and then proceeded to embarrass her 16-year-old son and my 13-year-old daughter at the dinner table by insisting on talking about sex education. Heh.

Sorry I haven't done diaries, will try to during the week. For my two avid readers of the diarama. Stay strong.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

possum living

I was just googling around (trying to see if they have possums in Russia) and came across this:


Possum Living: How to Live Well Without a Job and (Almost) No Money.








It's all about sustainable living on an individual household level. A 19-year-old woman wrote the book about how she and her father were living on $1500 per year. No phone, no car, and an estranged mother who is very scary and makes an appearance in the documentary.

The link above takes you to a page which has excerpts from the author's current blog, reviews and a documentary on youtube.

Amazing stuff. I'm about to watch the two other chapters of the doco. From the late '70s and it's pretty weird. Some weird family dynamics (if you watch it, between the father and daughter and mother and son.) Also some very gendered roles, between the father and daughter.

"What else do you want for lunch?" Like some Stepford wife.

And they shoot a turtle in the head, saying how they kill all the animals they eat humanely, not like in abbatoirs, but it doesn't die and later back in the kitchen sink as they are talking about what else to put in the soup, it's legs are moving and the father says something about reflexes.

They have a basement full of white bunnies hopping around, that they eat.

The mother/ex-wife visits (with the brother/son) and manages to get a couple of bitchy comments in from behind her blowfly sunglasses and smug coiff. She puts her daughter down in one breath - two insults one on top of the other, about the salad, it's a little bit tart, and you'll never be the cook your mother was.

I am going to try and get the book. What an interesting read. Quite macabre, with a fairly hefty dose of urban hillbilly and moonshine. And then of course she rebelled in her twenties by... buying a car and getting a job.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

IT'S JUST NOT FUNNY



I'm sorry, it's just not. Each week it gets less and less funny. The first episode had some amusing bits. Then it progressively got more and more unfunny.

So many things in life are funny. Not this. Oh my god. Why can't my husband see it?

He thinks Phil is the most HIGH-LARIOUS dude ever. He's not, he's so annoying I want to kill him. And his stupid freaking wife. And his three horrible children.

The only people who are sometimes okay are the gay couple and Manny. I do like Manny but his character is getting tired.

Last week's episode I did not crack a smile.

Life is too short.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

I just want to wipe the smile off Jimmy's face

He is shitting me big time.

And I know I'm not the only one.

*

Bought a new kettle today. Pretty happy about that. Also put tax stuff into accountant. Ticking things off the list, have more energy than I've had for a long time.


*

Might make lemon curd tonight to go with lemon puddings. Or mini lemon tarts with a bit of meringue on top. MMMMM LEMONS. From Ramon. Beautiful.


*

Had to say no to the ex yesterday, via email. He is a dodgy shit and I refuse to be caught up in his webs. That's all I'm going to say. Well, and this. He says he doesn't involve me in his business but he does! Including giving customers my mobile number and then I get calls out of the blue, and have to try and not say anything or the wrong thing. No matter what, everything I do or say is wrong according to Ali. He told me I was causing him trouble, when really it's the other way round. Mental.

*

Listening to classical music makes me feel joyous.

*

The sunshine, how nice is it? Dare we hope? Do you reckon? Maybe?

*

Princess has just now auditioned for the school musical. I am so proud of her, getting up and singing in front of the others (including Year 9s) and teachers. She's got game, and I would never have done that.

*

I am loving dark blue at the moment. Got a top recently, it is the most beautiful blue. Going all navy on your asses.

*

We are loving The OC. Seth Cohen - the best character ever in a tv show? Discuss.

*

Status of sitch with bro - we are not talking. Hopefully things will improve. We have never had feuds in our family. We anglos tend to leave that to the mediterraneans. But it's like "how old are we?" and "how can it come to this?"

Quite pathetic.

*

Oh hey. I'm re-reading The Colour of Water, by James McBride. If you like a memoir that reads like a novel, check it. I loved it the first time I read it, loving it again now. I am saturated a little with fictione, finding everything a bit too much hard work or something.

*

Have you noticed you can't cut and paste, or copy and paste, into blog posts any more? Is there something I'm missing? It's very annoying.

*

Gotta go. Gotta get the chop casserole happening and find recipes for dessert. I never cook dessert on a week night, but tonight I shall.

Friday, July 09, 2010

sweet nostalgia

So recently I've been showing Princess some movies, and today I sat her down and showed her a few music videos. She was trying to understand the difference between sharpies, skins, punks, goths, etc.

I explained about the New Romantics of the '80s, and we agreed Emos must have evolved out of Goths.

I showed her ska music, which I was into in 1982 and 1983. Madness, oh how we loved them.

Then I was showing her some Beatles music and this one I just love. The pipers make me cry.

Happy weekend everyone.


Monday, July 05, 2010

Good News

So the doctor said the scan said mum's cancer is gone.
How about that?
We are, of course, thrilled. But mum is trying also to be buddhist about it, that is not get attached to things too much in life, and that includes being cancer free.
I guess our approach this time around was one of oh fuck oh well let's just push on then, but without the soul searching and angst of before.
The good thing too is that she only had a little bit compared to ten years ago, so the little bit would go quicker than a big bit. That's my highly medicalised theory anyway.
Other good things that are happening:
- tomorrow night I'm going to see Animal Kingdom with my sis.
- I am well and truly on the way back from my illness. All it took, my friends, were the right antibiotics and over two weeks of house/bed rest. And much much reading.
- I have introduced Princess now to the pleasure that is The OC.
- the sun is out
- I took the Gigi for a walk yesterday. I am establishing a new regime of health, partly because I don't want to just feel worse and worse every year and end up a complete haggy invalid in a decade, and partly because we are going to Turkey in September, and I will be wearing bathers and jumping off the side of boats etc. I need to impress the moustaches.
- Booked the tickets the other day. Mum is coming with me and Princess. Three other friends are staying with us down south. It is going to be fucking awesome.
- My leave is approved, my new contract is signed so I have another year at my job confirmed. Yay me.
- tonight I will do a test run of cheese souffles for our Tour meal next Saturday night. Not sure about main yet. Maybe just something really simple, like chicken chausseur or a casserole. I can't be rooted going all out. Was considering the Frenchified version of beef Wellington but seriously can't be arsed. That dish is like a once-in-five-years dish. Maybe.
- I am re-reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. Last time I got up to p214 (the page is still folded. Do you fold or use bookmarks?) Not sure why I stalled but I'm giving it another go. I am not reading well at the moment, unable to sleep, I have insomnia (last night couldn't get to sleep, sat at the computer until 6am then crawled back in, slept until 11.45am. There's something wrong with me? I'm turning back into a teenager/angst-ridden post adolescent.)
Things that are not so great:
- see above. Insomnia.
- my writing. No energy for it. Maybe I just need a little break. Have been going at it solidly and madly for well over a year. I have several "new" projects; they need to compete and jostle with each other to win my attention. But leaving it up to them to do so is at the moment a little fruitless.
- my mind is on my mortgage, which with the renos has climbed up. And I need to pay my mum back some money, and my dad. I have never worried about money before and now I am trying to be responsible and grown up, I don't like the way it makes me feel. Easier to just be in denial?
- Ali (ex husband) is wanting to organise some things when we are there. One of these things is trying to solve his tax problem which has been dogging him for years. One of the solutions I believe involves a property settlement with me, where things are transferred into my name, to be held for Princess? I don't know it all makes my head hurt and I hope I don't get caught up in it. I will have to be strong and tell him I can't sign stuff without a lawyer here looking over stuff. I know he'll huff and puff and say don't you trust me?
Short answer - no.
Long answer - mostly.
- I've told you about Princess and some of her peers at school being from the dark side (or children of them that hail from the dark side.) Seriously, one of her facebook friends has another facebook friend with a high-profile surname and public photos including a dinner at a swank restaurant with the high-profile person in attendance. Think one of two surviving. Surname ends in G. Don't mention here, I'm scared. So then there's the child of the non-surviving person (surname ends in M) and she is Queen Bee and hogs all the boys and is really mean and powerful and everyone sucks up to her and Princess has said things like People say her family are in U****belly and I know they are/were but I don't want her to know. I did tell her if it was true that the kids need their privacy and it's not their fault they have criminal families. Princess also said Some dude got killed last year, and x's grandmother is in jail. I already knew this and had to use my poker face. A bit of ferreting around on the Internet last night and I found out that Child X's new stepdad is connected (was arrested) with a certain stupid footballer's stupid brother who is in the news, like, now.
My concern is that the power and status of these people (which emanates from money, connections, veiled threats which I have heard were made at another private school, Don't you know who my family is? sort of thing, but not from this particular Child X) is affecting the tone of Princess's year level. I want them to leave but I also sort of feel sorry for them.
This is weighing on my mind quite a lot, but I'll leave it there.
So as you can see, a real mix of good and bad, as always.

Monday, June 28, 2010

The continuing education of Princess



Remember when I took it upon myself to introduce Princess to some of my favourite, "significant" movies? She was sick home with a virus and I wanted her to expand her literary horizons (ie be a little bit open to things other than Twilight.)
First, there was Romeo and Juliet x 2. The Luhrmann and the Zefirelli versions.
The next day, we saw Wuthering Heights.
There was 2001: A Space Odyssey. For full response please scroll down to middle of post.+
*
So now, to 2010. With everyone else in the family away at various holiday spots (Sydney and QLD) Princess and I have [shamefully?] indulged in videos constantly since Friday afternoon.
This is our viewing list:
FRIDAY
1. Princess and the Frog (I didn't watch this one, so don't judge me.)
Princess: Don't bag it, it was a good movie.

2. United States of Tara, Disc 1, Season 1. (7 eps.)
Princess: I liked it but it was slightly confronting and are there people actually like that?

SATURDAY
3. The Bodyguard.
Princess: I liked that one.

4. The Queen.
Princess: I liked that one as well, it was interesting but it was more documentary, and I think it was done well.

5. Room with a View.
Princess: I actually liked that one quite a bit, but I felt it was like... what happened in that one? I only liked it for the brother, he was hot. He reminded me of Leo Di Caprio, I found it a bit more interesting when she was back home, maybe because more things happened than in Italy. Charlotte was funny, but she was annoying. The Mr Beebe was annoying but hilarious at the same time.

6. Little Women.
Princess: I didn't like the ending very much, I think she should have ended up with the hot dude, and that was that old guy who like, I don't know, her father or something.

7. Bull Durham
Princess: I liked that one but I thought the lady had no life, no offence. Like nobody likes baseball that much, slightly scary.

SUNDAY
8. The Da Vinci Code
Princess: Okay I'm just gonna say it straight: The albino was scary. Seriously, that was just weird and like I think, but I think I liked Angels and Demons better because it had more of a chase at the end, before the thing blowed up or whatever, but like this one, she, the lady whatever her name was, like she, like she could have she could have told like everybody that like what the church was saying was completely wrong, but she's like nup, not going to do that, and he's like found Mary Magdalene's bones whatever, and didn't even tell her.
Melba: How do you know? He might have texted her.
P: Yeah, he was just... it ended like he was just kneeling on top of the thing with all the triangles. But it was a good movie.
9. Juno
Princess: I liked the movie, thought she was an interesting character, I didn't like that Mark dude, he seemed really paedophilish, he was scary, and then like I think it was nice at the end how she gave the baby to Vanessa and that dude with the tic-tacs he was cool, whatever his name was, I can't remember the names.

10. Muriel's Wedding
Princess: The father was really mean. And like I think she was really delusional and that annoyed me, because I kept on wanting her to wake up, and she did finally. They were like a really dysfunctional family but not in like a comedic way, but a really sad depressing way, so I didn't really like it much but I liked the ending. It redeemed itself, a bit.

11. Terms of Endearment
[Melba: the saddest movie evah!]
Princess: Dude, no way. Titanic is like the saddest, seriously. Okay I liked it, I think she was an idiot for not leaving him [Flap]. I liked the astronaut, he was funny and the mum she was so glamorous all the time, I loved what she wore. Um, the ending was sad like when she died and mum was like crying so much and I found it sad but yeah, she was dying and stuff and in some ways I think it was better in some way for the kids, because even though they would grow up without their mum, I don't think they would have grown up great with their parents fighting and cheating, and so then they'd grow up with their grandmother, a bit more stable.

MONDAY
Harry Potter retrospective is underway. Will report later.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

The worst book of the decade?



This morning I finished this book. While I can't remember much of Life of Pi other than I enjoyed it, and it was weird, this book, THIS BOOK is wonderful.

I cried in the final pages, then got out of bed, remembering that I'd read some negative stuff about it. I googled, I found some reviews, and these comments in a review by a blogger called Edward Champion:

It contains a moral vision less sophisticated than the dribbing one might encounter from a human vegetable.

That the reviewer wrote the way he did because nobody was willing to call a clear turd out for what it was.

And my favourite:

Inarguably, I think, nearly anyone with any literary sensibility would recognize this as something truly vile...

Oh my god.

And this from another reviewer: disappointing and often perverse (The New York Times.)

There was a bad review in The Washington Post as well.

I loved this book, adored it. It was fresh, clever, so so so imaginative, concise, weird, moving, chilling. And did I mention imaginative?

Perverse? How so?

Vile? How so?

I wonder is it me? Or them?

Just goes to show books and what you like and don't like is such a personal thing.

I was stunned by how much I loved this book.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Friday wrap

Hey

I've been in bed since Tuesday lunchtime. Well, obviously not the whole time. I have been in and out, even managing on Wed to drag myself out into the world to go to Officeworks and the local council offices. The dog, you see, was out of registration.

I'm feeling much better. It's been a flu I think, because I had the whole body aches and face aches, although the body aches can just be me getting old and the face could be sinusitis? Anyway, started with a rotten throat, passed through a day of nose runs, awful headache, nausea. Just so blah.

Wednesday was worst but I dosed myself up. Thursday a little better. And now today, better still. But I intend to crawl back into bed in a minute. I have just kissed the last of the family as they headed out the door.

I do love having the house to myself, it's such a delicious feeling.

*

So this week of being in bed has meant much reading.

I have read the following:

- half of Dogboy by Eva Hornung. What a book but it's so intense I have to dilute it with other stuff in between. It's so amazingly done, so believable. What a book.

- all of The Pillow Book by Matthew Condon. It's a re-read and I knocked it off yesterday. It's an interesting book because it's about domestic violence with the male as victim.

- Perfect Victim by Elizabeth Southall, which is about the murder of her daughter Rachel in 1999. Another re-read. I like to torture myself with these books for some reason.

- Orhan Pamuk's Snow. I'm 240 pages in and it's fucking awesome.

- Last night I started re-reading Widow for One Year by John Irving. It's funny. This dude has been my favourite writer forever but now, on rereading him as a more mature person, I am seeing his self indulgence and pomposity and I don't like it. But I'm liking the book again. We'll see.

*

So other than that, nothing much to report. Not sure what to have for breakfast. Not feeling so in love with food at the moment. Haven't wanted a glass of wine all week which is strange for me, usually I have to resist. We're going out on Saturday night to a friend's birthday party and I plan to wear my new anniversary shoes. Might be going out tonight with a friend and her daughter, we'll see. Otherwise a quiet weekend and I'll be ready for work on Monday. But it has to be said, all those people who say "Oh I'd keep working, definitely, if I won ten million dollars":

bullshit.

Work would be the last thing I'd do.

*

The writing is going okay. I'm on to another one, which is a fairly old one from about ten years ago, which I've got between 40 and 60K words done. (60K original, 40K edited but I can't remember what I cut out so will have to compare the two docs.)

It's not the one I thought I'd move onto next but for some reason it's the one that has been nudging at my brain. It's a bit exciting. Oh I wish I could have started this serious writing earlier, then I could have been this happy for a bit longer. Does that make sense?

*

I've ordered some books from Book Depository in the UK. A friend put me on to them. Cheap books and no delivery costs to Australia. She uses it all the time, so I'm a bit excited and it's really quite dangerous for someone like me to know about a place like that.

*

Tenants are in the flat, and I am learning to stop my mind from turning there all the time. Habituated to do so I guess. My mind is now starting to turn to the trip in September, I still need to book. Mum is going well so fingers crossed she can come. School holidays are coming up at the end of next week so that's really nice too. I won't be slaving during them at the flat, can huddle and hibernate here and do my thing. Once I'm better I intend to take the dog for a walk every day, no matter the weather. Wish me luck with that one.

*

Oh! In the garden yesterday when I took the dog out for a wee in between storms, I found that we have capsicums growing against the fence! Three of them, and I took them off the plant. Also we have some tender little violets there and a strawberry plant! With one frosty white looking strawberry on it! Incroyable.

*

Speaking of French we have our Tour meal coming up next month. This annual event is now in its fifth year for us.

We've had boeuf bourgignon, French onion soup, lapin (don't mention the lapin!), onion tart, cheeses, coq au vin. This year, it's at our house again and we are inviting another couple. My sis and her husband I don't think are all too pleased but nevermind.

My bro-in-law is the one who's the most enthused (along with me) about planning the menu and last weekend he arrived for dinner here with about 6 cookbooks and we sat down and he has decided to do creme brulee and I haven't decided what to do but probably Boeuf En Croute (which is Beef Wellington I am told, and Clokes did a fab Beef Wellington for our anniversary dinner not so long ago. He won't be making it, he has said never again and when he says something like that, I believe him.

This is a mild-mannered man, dear people, who never talks like that and is not given to histrionics like me. Maybe he will agree to help me? He did it with porcini mushrooms as a layer rather than pate. I would love to try it with foie gras but I know that others might not like it, ie him.)

*

So I think I might go back to bed. Happy weekend to all and keep warm and dry.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

BOOK LOG

I have just finished reading Wetlands by Charlotte Roche.

Anyone?

I have this to say about it:

- it is the perfect length

- it is funny

- it is very revolting, not for the faint-hearted

- it is revolting and funny at the same time

- it is in no way sexually arousing (for me, I don't know, maybe poo-philes and pus-lovers will find it kinky?)

- isn't kinky such an old-sounding word? it's so seventies.

- I LOVED the ending. LOVED IT. It was a happy ending, an ending with hope and love and potential and she gave a reason for why the main character was as she was.

- it made me think of Affection by Krissy Kneen. Another warts-and-all type of book, readable and brave. I had read Christos Tsiolkas's Dead Europe just before Wetlands, and I loved that as well. I must be so stupid, it took me a little while to realise there was some sort of vampirish thing going on. What a great book it was though. Again, with all the bodily fluids, and blood. There's one other book I want to read which sits, I believe, in the detailed-bodily-fuctions-gross-out genre, and that is In-human by Anna Dusk. How cool a name is Anna Dusk - is it real I wonder.

*

Now I am turning to Snow by Orhan Pamuk. I have had this book on my shelves for years, dear readers, years. I have never read any of his books. I also have Istanbul and My Name is Red. I have often wondered why I haven't read them yet, but now I know. It wasn't time, and now it is.

I am going to enter a phase of "Turkish readings" including re-reading my favourite trilogy by Yashar Kemal Iron Earth, Copper Sky; The Wind from the Plains and The Undying Grass. I also have some memoirish stuff to re-read (life during the end of the Ottoman era) and a couple of non-fiction including Lady Mary Wortley's travel writings.

This long weekend, in addition to reading much, I want to tidy my bookcases and put all my stuff into author groups.

Any ideas on how to organise? How do you organise your bookshelves? Do you?

At the moment mine are all over the place. I do have a Helen Garner section and a Hemingway section, but I want to have sections where I can locate a book fast. I also have overflow. What do I do with that? For years my overflow has been all my "embarrassing" books, you know the ones that you don't want to be seen reading. My embarrassing books are things like Jackie Collins, Stephen King and books with titles like Who Killed Leigh Leigh and Single, Wild and Sexy. Another embarrassing book I had was Survivors of Verbal Abuse or something like that. I ripped the cover off that one because I was reading it and commuting at the same time.

*

The flat is finished yay. I have the whole weekend plus Monday to recover and turn my mind to the next project, which is going to Turkey in September. It'll be just me and Princess, though I'm hoping mum can come too. We have to wait another couple of weeks to see what the doctor says. A few friends are planning to join us there in the south - what fun - and I think the plan is to stay in the village house that Ali has renovated. It has a pool in the almond orchard, stone walls and from memory there were some chickens strutting around the dirt lanes. Bliss.
I think we'll hire a car so we don't have to drive the notorious jeep. I feel sick just thinking about it, ama hersey iyi olacak. Degil-mi?

Sunday, June 06, 2010

Sunday update

The flat is almost finished, but I was told on Thursday that the gas heater was not compliant. So I ran around Friday working out a solution which involves pulling out that heater tomorrow and creating an open fireplace (nice) and installing three of those slimline electric wall-mounted heating panels.

Bloody hell.

The current heater is a fake gas log fire one which I had installed about 8 years ago, and it's always worked fine but two plumbers have told me that heaters like that need appropriate ventilation, which would have been too costly and difficult to put in, not to mention fucking ugly.

While at the heater shop, I was approached by someone from Channel 7 Today Tonight with questions about the heaters I was buying. The conversation went like this:

Pretty girl: Hi. [self introduction] I can see you're buying some of the heaters we are doing a story on. Can I ask why you chose those ones?
Me: Um. They look nice. They are streamlined and a nice clean line.
PG: So did efficiency come into it?
Me: Oh I think on the website it said that they are okay for all that, but really, it was how they looked.
PG: Would you be prepared to say that on camera?
Me: Oh no. I'd be too shy plus I've got two sick kids at home, I haven't got time.
PG: [big smile]. Oh okay. [Backs off.]
It hadn't really sunk in what the show was, and I didn't click until I was walking out of the door why they were even there. I hate Today Tonight and all those shows with a passion, and all the people who watch them too. I'm so glad I didn't say yes, and I'm so glad I didn't have my mug on a story about two gassed boys. It would have been embarrassing and horrible.
*
I found out yesterday that not everyone in my family supports me and my writing. I found out why one of my close family members doesn't ask "how it's all going", or say anything like "hey, you've written a book [insert any number of appropriate sentiments here.]"
I am not flashy with my writing. I don't talk about it with everyone, and until about a year ago I didn't talk about it with anyone. I'm not one of those bores who sits there at lunch, dinner parties, wherever going on and on about me and my writing. I am one of the people who are usually sitting opposite such a person, smiling and nodding politely.
BUT I have supported this particular person doggedly through the years, through many creative/adacemic/sporting/entrepreneurial/business activities. I feel disappointed and hurt that I am not getting a skerrick of support or interest back. And I said so. (Also, btw, I have not received any questions/comments/interest about the renovation either.)
I was told that because it's creative and personal and mine, this person feels a lack of necessity to support me or show interest (!) and that anyway, I have lots of people interested (mum, dad, sister) (!) and it's better than faking interest (!) and besides (Oh, now I'll tell you the real reason, but just because you're pushing me): "I think you should be working instead of spending time writing a book. And looking after your kids and family."
What did it take for me not to smash this person in the nose? To be all very "large" about it and even give a kiss and rub an arm as if to say "no hard feelings?"
Because I felt sorry for him. I really did.
Because to live a life without creativity is sad I think. And I feel lucky, inspired, and (damn it all) touched by that wanky old muse.
And besides, I do work, I'm contributing, I'm cooking, my kids aren't smoking dope and having all sorts of unsafe, skanky sex, stealing money, in trouble with the cops, running away from home, refusing to go to school like some, being assessed by community services.
We sit and watch Masterchef. We watch Modern Family. We have deep and meaningful conversations in the car on the way to Family Night about condoms and what is the Pill?
I am seeing this person turn into a cranky old man.
And that's sad.
*
Time now for some eggs and coffee. Happy Sunday everyone. Diaries next week, I promise.

Saturday, May 29, 2010

nous sommes une famille gastronomique!



Okay. My copy of Mrs Beeton's Cookery and Household Management is NOT QUITE as rustico as the picture, but it would be a worthy challenger in any competition that included the category "death by puppy."

I bought my Mrs Beeton's at the old second-hand bookshop in Sorrento. That's Sorrento, Mornington Peninsula, not Italia.

I was rapt when I saw it there on the shelf. Some household had off-loaded it, thinking it worthless. Daggy when on the shelf beside Donna Hay and Jamie Everywhere Dot Com.

And get this.

At the same time, I got the Larousse Gastronomique.

What a fucking coup, ladies and gentleman. (That's you INC, Perseus only reads the diaries. And Ramon only comes on when there are lemons, really, or maybe a Palestinian/Israeli dispute. Just to watch, you know.)

So. you know we had an anniversary last Wednesday. The same day as Ms Fits' birthday. I'll never forget. And the same day she stopped her blog. Ah, how we move on.

"Hello, my name is Melba, and I am okay."

So. The anniversary. Right now Clokes is in the kitchen. He is wearing his Collingwood top and cooking a Masterchef recipe. He is doing Beef Wellington. While we went out Wed night to a local pizza restaurant and test-drove the idea that the kids can fend for themselves, tonight, my friends, is our romantico night where we feast on the Beef Wellington (as Hercule Poirot would say, very fond of the definite articles as he was in his translated Anglais).

So Clokes is Slaving over the Hot Stove and I have run off to my study/library/entirely indulgent and booky space to blog about the Mrs Beeton's index.

"I'm going to blog about this to my three readers!" I shouted, as I left the kitchen after helping Clokes skim the red wine sauce and flip the crepes, in a very George Calombaris manner.

"I thought you had more than three readers," said Princess, as she loaded up her taco. (When you have three kids, you don't feed them The Beef Wellington. It's Tacos For Them!)

"I'm being modest," I lied, and left the room.

So. This is what grabbed my attention.

Looking up God* Knows What, I noticed the following, on page 1324 in my old haggard prostitute of a copy (but Sorrento, don't you know dahling, think of how much she could 'ave 'aggled twenty years ago, dahling):

Bearnaise sauce
Beat, to
Beatrice tartlets
Bechamel sauce (can't be bothered with the acute)
Bed bugs
Bed-wetting
Bedroom
Bedsores
Beef
a la Mode
as mock hare
au gratin
baked
balls, raw
boiled
border
braised
braised, in aspic
brisket of
broth
cake
cannelon of
carbonnade of
chateaubrian steak

(can't be bothered with the circumflexes and graves either.)


So it's a book of household management, and cookery. You can whip up a cheese souffle and conquer warts at the same time?

Mais, bien sur.

This is my post for this week. I am tired, I have no time but I WILL answer any of your questions (using my Mrs Beeton resource or my own mad skillz) to do with cookery or household management.

Post your questions below.

And have a good weekend. Be nice to each other. Wear a condom, or don't use too much tongue when kissing. Just a little bit is nice.





* And speaking of the Old Boy, anyone else read or about to the new Phillip Pullman book on Jesus??

Friday, May 28, 2010

Saturday, May 22, 2010

Saturday musings

Assorted shallow comments:

1. Just did my nails. OPIs Cajun Shrimp. A gorgeous red.

2. Got some new shoes yesterday. It's Clokes' and my wedding anniversary next week. We are doing the traditional gift thing, and 3 years is leather. So he's getting himself a leather jacket and I decided on shoes.


They're like these but the heel's a bit different. They are from Stuart Weitzman and nice.

3. Just finished watching Gossip Girl with my two girls. We have now finished the second season. Princess was having conniptions on the couch during the final episode. You know how these tv series creators like to play with your emotions.

4. We are up to date with Survivor. Happy Rupert survived. I think my kids think I'm revolting for saying that I find him quite fanciable.

5. Tomorrow we will watch some more back eps of Glee. Recently my dear friend Magical_M asked me who was my favourite character. I like lots of them, but forgot to mention Sue. How could I forget Sue? Earlier this week I saw the Season 1 episode where she visits her sister and reads to her. So tender and good. Love it.

6. Last night we had pizza and I really am not a pizza person.

7. I should put another coat of nail polish on.

8. Done.

9. We watched the first episode of Modern Family. It was a bit meh. Anybody else see it?

10. I might have a bubble bath tonight.


Deep and meaningful bits (some of these points probably belong above):

1. My mum's treatment is going well so far, thanks for everyone who's emailed, commented here or texted. I'm not going to bang on about it too much but will give you occasional updates. It's all a bit second-time-around and kind of boring in a way. (That sounds really callous, it's not.) We are planning a trip to Turkey in September, to take Princess to see Ali. I asked mum to come, so if it all goes well, that's what we'll do. A stop-over in Abu Dhabi maybe, and a side-trip to Prague. Oh yes please.

2. Geelong played well last night and poor Clokes was a bit devo but he took it well. My dad called me in the afternoon with a spare ticket and I had to say no. More than happy to be on the couch watching, with pizza, wine and then a Maxi-Bon to follow. I really can't be bothered with night games. They are so torturous. Though I once wrote an ode to a Friday night game, I really would rather be on red couch than on hard seat. And so, I can't see any real challengers to Geelong at this point.

3. I am re-reading Joe Cinque's Consolation.

4. Have stalled in the latest John Irving one. So self-indulgent and wordy. It's like he's too famous now so that either a) everyone is too scared to edit him properly or b) he just says 'fuck off' to editing. Or maybe both?

5. I am reading to my 13-year-old daughter again. I have decided to introduce her to the joys of Agatha Christie, especially the Hercule Poirot detective books. I lie on her bed at night and read to her. I do all the voices, she theorises (very accurately) about whodunnit, and it's all rather cosy and lovely. She still reads her vampire/fantasy books, but we have our little routine which both of us are enjoying.

6. I'm scratching around for another point. Might leave it there. Will try to diarise tomorrow but no promises.

What are you reading, good people? What are you watching on teeve? Who are you kissing, what are you wearing and what are you eating?

Talk to me!

Friday, May 14, 2010

Sorry, no Bali diarama today

I am battling a big headache. Have had it all day. I don't get headaches traditionally, though it has to be said in recent times I am starting to.

Hormones?

Prolly.

Fuck.

I've just had my second coffee, and if that doesn't fix it my recovery-back-up plan involves any or all of the following:

- Blue castello cheese on Vita-Weets (plain)

- Sea salt Kettle chips

- fresh salmon and wild barramundi with green beans and scalloped potatoes (made with cheese and cream, oh my)

- a high top apple pie with cream

- alcohol, ranging from wine to limoncello which really has just turned out a very lemony vodka. Bit disappointing actuallement.

- back episodes of Glee

- a bubble bath

- The Age newspaper on the bed. Now.


My back-up plan does NOT include:

- the Collingwood-Freo game tonight.




Wow. Just writing a list is making my headache recede. Must have been the coffee.

Does that mean I have to resist indulgence tonight?

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Who is being tried?

The Gambino-Farquharson case has me intrigued, I admit it. I am drawn to macabre events like this one. Aren't we all? I guess unless you are a super-sensitive person and have to turn away (some people can't read about this stuff, just like my mum can't bear to hear stories about people injuring their toes or fingers) or have suffered something similar, we humans like to read about the dark stuff, hear about it, talk about it. We revel in it. It's the car-crash thing, the schadenfreude thing. The There but for the Grace of God Go I thing.

But those of us who do lap this stuff up, we enjoy, if that's the word, from the safety of our nice, safe lives. Because it makes us feel lucky, perhaps (not a bad thing to feel.)

Puts things in perspective for us, that our small lives are untouched by such tragedy, drama and horror.

Feeds the need in us for thrill and shock and awe.

It's a long time since I wrote here commentarily. I haven't been inspired by the news or current affairs for ages.

But in today's Age, in the article on page 2, I was shocked by the story. We have all heard of rape victims being cross-examined and having to justify the length of their skirts, the volume of alcohol in their blood, or about how faint or inaudible or tardy their No was.

But in a murder trial? Is this a new form of misogyny? Attack a grieving mother who wasn't even within hoo-ie of the scene of death. Who had nothing to do with it. And was clearly a person who believed her estranged husband's story that he blacked out during a coughing fit and drove the car into the dam.

Nevermind that there is evidence that before it happened he told someone he was going to hurt her by killing the kids. Yeah, forget that. Innocent until proven guilty.

This man drove a car into a dam and in the back were his three young sons. This man said he had a sneezing attack, lost control of the car and then was unable to save them. This man called his wife it seems, first? She was on the scene very quickly and called the ambulance and police?

The defence lawyer - a Mr Peter Morissey SC - attacked the mother in court with such provocative insinuations that he got what he wanted - an emotional reaction, and probably thinks he managed to discredit her story. Because, you know, people have to stick to their evidence as given to the police, when you are a witness, not adjust their thinking over time, especially not if new information comes to light. No, just ignore all that and stay with what you originally said. Otherwise you are suspect and hypocritical.

I'm sure the police are suspicious of witnesses who don't change details over time.

But he's right. Her attitude may have changed. Why? Because at first she couldn't believe a father could do that. But then she realised he could. Don't forget, this was before the girl got thrown off a bridge. Irrefutable evidence that people can do awful things. But people don't want to believe the worst. We can't. Otherwise we may have to wonder what did I marry? What didn't I see?

Morrisey is on a mission to discredit her or suggest that she has changed her story, possibly defaced a tomb-marker and dared to be photographed at the boys' funeral in what remains undescribed in the paper but is insinuated to be what one could imagine a friendly, co-grieving clutch with her ex-husband.

So grubby. How does he sleep at night?

The fee? It can only be the fee.

The glory? What glory?

What the fuck does SC mean anyway? Standard Counsel. Satisfactory Counsel. So-so Counsel.

[Flashback - an eight-year-old Melba once took on a barrister, who these days specialises in similar grubby work defending people who clearly "did it." She told him not to call her mother and her friend (his wife) a "couple of tarts."

I remember him standing officiously in front of his enormous fireplace in his enormous house in St Vincent's Place, South Melbourne, red wine in hand, joshing around in his booming court-room voice. He was being funny, you see. Little Melba didn't know that, she took everything on face value, as is fairly normal at that age.

Don't call my mother a tart.

Later, at the age of maybe 14, an exchange:

Do you have to defend criminals?

Yes.

Do have to be their lawyer even if you know they are guilty?

Yes.

Thus endeth Melba's small thoughts of becoming a lawyer.

And another time. Melba enters the office on William St of the above barrister's lawyerly friend. The two of them were working on the Mr Asia case. This is oh maybe 1983/84. Melba is doing some work for them, data entry into a tinny little TRS-80 from Dick Smith. Evidence. Masses of it. Interesting stuff. I wish I'd kept a copy. No real link to anything here, just fills out the picture of the calibre of client.

But back to the story.

The defence for Farquharson, Peter Morrisey, who is not a designer of anything other than maybe paperclips in rows on his faux-teak desk, said the following to Cindy Gambino, mother of those three boys:

"What have you got to say about your role, if any?" (relating to the chiselling off of Farquharson's name on the boys' headstone.)

Why is this even being discussed? Even if she did, don't you think most reasonable people would understand why she might have hacked at it? It's something a mother might do, but its completely irrelevant to the case. And why is she being asked about her previous testimony? Is she in contempt of court, is she trying to cause mischief?

As she said:

"What mother could fathom that a father could do such a thing to their children?"

Morrissey insinuates that she defaced their grave.

Then he suggests that she is "deliberately putting a bad spin" or " 'deliberately exaggerating' aspects of her evidence to increase the likelihood of him being found guilt over the boys' deaths."

The trial continues, the paper says.

Whose trial?

Oh, and a literary tip. Book in the offing from high-profile writer. Can't wait.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

so

the fat boy gets knocked in teh clink.

my daughter's year level contact list comes around.

all the gumba spawn have unlisted addresses, no phone numbers and just email addresses.

oh no. i lie. one family has a mobilia listed.

and i swear to god, one had an email address that includes the word "concrete."


interesting times my friends. interesting times.

Thursday, April 01, 2010

As I sit

I'm thinking about what to write. I have ground to a halt with my blog but it's only because I'm too busy doing a lot of running around with renovations, as well as work and normal family life, as well as the other writing thing. There's no news about mum; she is waiting to see how they can best do the biopsy, so it doesn't seem at all urgent or panicky or bad. We went to our healing meditation yesterday and while I'm not meditating at home during the week, it's helping me to keep calmer, be a bit nicer (though I made the small boy cry at the wedding on Sunday) and be in the present a lot more (especially while being mean to children!)

I've lifted the venetians on the windows in front of me and it's grey outside but I can see the white roses beyond the glass and I'm cosy in my grey dressing gown. The painter popped in before to get his deposit and money for paint so work on the flat is ticking along. It seems to have taken ages. They just delivered the kitchen cabinetry yesterday and the place has still got junk and rubble from the plumbers earlier. I have to do something about that today. Things like the rubble weigh heavily on my mind and bother me. The plumbers should have taken it. They've said they will, and they haven't.

IT'S SO CLICHED.

* * *

Just called a junk removal place they are coming today so that is ace. Junk will be gone. Kitchen can be installed and then painter can come in next Tues and do his thing.

YAY. Feeling better now.

Have to go and pick up tiles and deliver to flat.

Oh and the Apollo Bay music festival was fab. My brother's band played, they were awesome and there was this thing called Baystock where all the bands played one number that was played at Woodstock. The quality was astouding. The guy and band who did Jo Cocker's I Get By With A Little Help from My Friends was staggeringly good. Eye-wettingly good.

We rocked out with the Fam, my mum, dad, sister and her family. My mum and dad reminisced about when they were courting and which acts they saw (Dave Brubeck, Frank Sinatra.)

My mum couldn't remember going to see Frank Sinatra.


!


Anyway that's all I've got time for.

Don't eat too many eggs.

Drive safely.

Don't be mean to small children.

And write, goddammit, if that's what you're trying to do.

x

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Not feeling so wonderful.



No time for diaries, no time for poetry, no time for rants or musings.

It's true what they say about renovations. Even though mine are going fairly well, it seems interminable and the stress is laid out across my shoulders like some fat cat.

It's true what they say about blended families. FUCKING HARD WORK.

It's true what they say about trying to be a writer. Prepare for lots of disappointment and heartache.

Dropping my ms into an assessor tonight. Which is good. Didn't get into the course I wanted. Which is bad.

Everywhere I turn, I am assaulted with noise and I really don't like it. Skipping buddhism class today and going back to bed to read.

How are you?

Thursday, March 04, 2010

What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean -
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down -
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now, she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Mary Oliver



I love the way this poem sneaks up on you at the end.

What do you plan to do with your ONE life?

Yeah, I'm going all buddhist on yo asses.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

suffering part 2

So I was talking about suffering just the other day.

Seems I might have known something was coming.

You know when you have that moment, and you think everything is good?

Well, it never lasts and I know that. We all know that. The good times (and the bad) never last.

Long-time readers will know my mother had cancer for many years. She has been free of it for the last three. She had a pet-scan on Thursday and results with oncologist on Friday and he said it looks like it's back. She called me yesterday as I was laughing in a cafe with my friend who's helping me with the renovations. We'd just high-fived at finding our plasterer (yes, he's a spunk as well, and we were hoping he was gay too, so that my friend and he could renovate together.) Then my mum called and said she was in a cafe in Chapel Street having a green tea.

Why did she mention the green tea? I know now, but when she said it, right at the beginning after she'd said It's mum, I knew. Mum has been back drinking coffee the last three years, so her saying that was a little, gentle nudge to my brain, that it was not good news.

For me, us, the adults in the family, it's like well, we just giddy on up and get back in that there saddle.We had seven years of some hard riding, over rough terrain, getting shot at by injuns, our wagon-tops burning from their fiery arrows, rushing through ravines with even rogue cavalry men taking aim. We kept on riding and we made it through, and in such style.

I'm dreading having to tell my Princess, who is also her Granny's Princess-to-the-power-of-2 of this latest change.

It's change that gets us. Change we don't like.

Sorry to be such a downer but I don't want to talk about this to the friends I see face to face. I had seven years of How's your mum? and it all being about My Mother's Cancer. It sounds harsh but she would understand. I will tell her, I'm going to play it all down, not talk about it and we'll just deal with it ourselves.

And in good news:

Taking Ali and his unbelievably gorgeous girlfriend to the airport for their flight outta here today. So that's one thing off my plate. One thing off, ten on?

Wish me luck for the drive to the airport. Long-time readers again will know that it's been problematic in the past, having Ali in town, and even driving him to the airport. Even picking him up.

Fun and games.

But this time has been pretty smoove. Thank Fuck.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Friday, oh yay

I know I'm overdue for some diarama but, dear reader, I have been so busy with renovating the flat I just haven't time to spare. Not a square to spare.
But briefly, this morning, before I go to meet the plasterer, who I'm hoping won't be nasty, who might just be a spunk, to add to my collection of tasty tradeys (cabinet-maker, swoon; plumber, oh-my-gawd; and floor polisher [faints].)
But before I away,
Precious.

I went and saw it last night with my mo. That's ghetto for mother. Don't you know. She gasped a couple of times and I hid my eyes once. I have images from this movie burned into my retinas, laid down in the visual equivalent of quadrophonic sound. Or is it 8 track? Probably 16 by now, or infinity.
It's very confronting. We loved it, but sad, so sad, but uplifting and redemptive. She was going to break the cycle. What a cycle. We agreed we'd never seen that sort of stuff, so raw and confronting, in a movie before. Lenny Kravitz - the only man in the movie with a face; he was so gorgeois, and kind and sweet. What a movie. Go and see it. Mariah Carey too, like you've never seen her before.
*
So every week I've been doing buddhist meditation with my mo. It's helping me, I am a bit calmer, a bit smoother, and most importantly a bit nicer to the people I love the most.
This week, the theme was suffering, so in lieu of my self-indulgent ramblings from the '80s, I give you Auden.

Musee dex Beaux Arts
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or
just walking dully along.
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately
waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen,
skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the
torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.

In Brueghel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns
away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun
shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have
seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.

*

I was told once I should write more poetry, but that was a blogger who I didn't know and who seemed like a bit of a nutter. Here is an exhange we had once.
This is the thing I've learned about poetry, for myself. I like poetry that is clear and you can understand the imagery, this is how I like to read prose as well. I've also realised that poetry has been dangerous for me because it makes me feel too much, like music. I have been avoiding certain emotions and poetry and music especially bring them to the surface. Not deep, dark, really bad things but the stuff of suffering that we all have. Once you get to a certain age, you can't tell me you haven't suffered. And if you're like me, and you've had to get on with things, you push the pain down and carry on because if you don't, if you stop and cry, you'll never pick yourself up.
Oh how woe is me.
We all suffer, it's a part of the human condition and it's important to realise that. We haven't failed if we haven't achieved perfect, ongoing happiness. It doesn't exist, it's a delusion.
Happy Friday all, and have a good weekend too.
And be kind to yourselves, first.
And apologies to the other very famous blog which does poetry on a Friday. I'm not moving in on the concept, it just looks like it.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Answer me this, mesdames et messieurs

What do you do if you have just finished your first draft of a story, and it's really more than a first draft. You are now polishing and layering a bit more into it. But it's formed, with beginning, middle, end. Characters are all there doing their thing, action all the rest of it.

And you start reading a book by a fabulously well-known author and you realise


FUCK


This reminds me of my book. And you keep reading, and every few chapters you go
FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK

I am somehow connected psychically to this person on the other side of the world.

Now, get this. It's about the mother-daughter relationship, not an uncommon theme, so that's not a problem.

BUT when she uses the word mauve relating to cosmetics, she has a mother that is mentally ill (mine is an aunt), she has a scene where the main character ponders on rabbit bones and looks at them lined up on a windowsill, along with rocks and stones, and a few other seemingly small things but which all add up to one humungous

FUCK

and you have the same fucking stuff in your book, then what else can you think but

FUCK!

I have put the book down. I am a little over half way through. And I don't know what to do.

Because it is such a good book, and mine is trifling in comparison. I want to finish it, I am loving it, but then what happens with my book, I have toiled over it for more than 12 months, and which started as a seed a few years ago?

No matter that my mother loved it, and my sister.

No matter that my father sent through his response last night and said things like "I have finished reading your first novel. It's sure to be up for a Miles Franklin! I loved it."

Know that my dad is not an exclamation mark kind of guy. Know too that my dad does not use the word "love" lightly. He is not into hyperbole and I have never really felt that he's been big on the building up of a daughter's self-esteem. He's never taken the care to do all that, never thought to maybe, he is not a nurturer of a small girl's dreams. So when he says something like that, it's pretty enormous.

So, dear readers, what the hell do I do now?

I've organised for a professional manuscript assessment, need to send it off around mid-March.

I have to stay true to it, don't I? I shouldn't panic and go running around trying to change shit.

Well, I guess in a way it's validation, but she's done it so much better than me.

FUCK.


Monday, February 08, 2010

What I hate Monday

In addition to all the recent spammage I've been getting on this blog, what I really, really hate is:


1. when you go to the hairdresser for a haircut

2. when you say ok to a blow wave and it comes out straight

3. when you then go to work and every fucking person in the building comments on your hair, how nice it is, it's gorgeous, it's wonderful, wow, wow, WOWOWOWOWOWOW.

4. then you are left thinking is my normal hair really so shit?


NO MORE STRAIGHT FLAT DOs FOR ME.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Murdering your darlings


The above is a paraphrased quote from Stephen King's On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. This is a book which he wrote and tells the reader, very conversationally, a bit about how he got started with his writing, and how to write better.
It is quite simply one of the best books I have ever read on this subject. You know what? It IS the best.
I first read it several years ago, and just finished re-reading it now.

He says some of the best advice he got from someone else was that you have to be prepared to murder your darlings. Your darlings are your words, maybe words that you are especially proud of, but if they don't progress the story, or are redundant or padding, you need to get rid of them.

It's interesting, and he's right.
*
I am sitting at my new work space in the new house. Once again I have my old kitchen table that is motherfuck big, huge enough for me to have lots of piles of crap on it and still plenty of space to work. It faces a stretch of bay windows - four of them, count them, 1, 2, 3, 4 - and I can see an enormous house across the street and rose bushes and greenery along our front fence. The light is wonderful.

To my left are two bookcases filled with books.

Here's one:


Then to each side of the bookcase are stacks of other books that won't fit.



On the left, yes, evidence of my Stephen King collection. For a couple of decades, these books (along with my Jackie Collins, Agatha Christies, Sidney Sheldons, Robert Ludlums and Dick Francises etc) have been hidden away in boxes in whatever garage I've had my "extra shit" in.

I am now out and proud. I read these books voraciously when I was younger. Couldn't get enough of them, but balanced them out with deeper, more literary readings. I don't read a lot of genre but these good folks represent the genre I did read: horror (only good horror, ie Stephen King, but also dabbled in a bit of Anne Rice and a writer called Dennis Wheatley. I'd be interested to hear if anyone has heard/read him. The first book I read of his was called The Satanist and my bro and I loved it.

My dad put me onto Ludlum and Dick Francis. Excellent story writers, I enjoyed them so much.

*

The other day I popped into the BookGrocer in High St, Northcote. We pass this place weekly/fortnightly, but always with the car full of child and on the way to dinner in the north. I had my opportunity to stop and bought the following:


So much excitement and joy. Have to finish what I'm reading now before I delve.
Books I am in the middle of:
The Lovely Bones
The Hand that Signed the Paper*
Anna Karenina
John Irving's new one, something about Twisted River. He's on Radio National tomorrow by the way, with Ramona Koval at 10am and repeated at 8pm. One of the my favourite authors, and if I had to name one who I have adored the most, 'twould be him.
I'll show you my other bookcase next time.
* I have read this and am re-reading after just having finished The Demidenko Files - which is a fascinating and comprehensive collection of all news articles and some radio time on the Demidenko/Milesa Franklin/anti-semitism scandal.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

So what?

So what if I liked Avatar?
So what if I might be cutting off my supply of fresh lemons north of the river?
I liked it:

Look how beautiful he is. Who cares if he's standing next to a blue lady with funny ears.

I liked this too:

Floating sky-mountains, dontcha know?
There were flying dragon thingies, and big, big humungous trees of Life, and flowers and creatures and I thought it was like a dream.
It didn't go for too long. It was good. The only thing I don't like about it is that it was created by a complete twat. But hey. Who really cares?
And this. I liked this too:

Avatar. Going back to see it again. That makes it twice. That makes it double the bad sunglasses in the glove box of the car. That makes it double the fancying of Mr Worthington.
Taking the kids, but only because they want to see it and I don't mind seeing it again.
So what if it is a slightly trite tale of let's look after our planet otherwise we are in big trouble. So what if it's a baddies (miners/businessmen) versus goodies (indigenous peoples/big-hearted, renegade soldiers). SO WHAT?
I liked it and that is all.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Thursday part 3

When I said the rugs were being hauled into the garage, I actually meant they are being spread about the back yard.

Anybody want to buy a rug? Good price for you.
This is approximately a third of what I will have. Two more shipments incoming.
Wonderful.
Obtuse - next post will be a diary one, tomorrow.

Thursday part 2

Just "going through my papers"* and came across this little gem, transcribed from The Perfumed Garden, page 48.

Beware the woman with a large, cold vulva for she will be the one to bring misery to a man's house. Likewise, she will be ugly and garrulous, woolly hair, etc. etc.

The man who approaches a woman like that with his member in erection will presently find it soft and relaxed, as though he was only close to a beast of burden.

Contemptible, likewise, is the woman who is constantly laughing out loud... she exhales a bad odour which infects you and sticks to you even after you have left her.


And don't think he's a misogynist, oh no.


p46

Know O my brother (to whom God be merciful) that a man who is misshapen, of coarse appearance, and whose member is short, thin and flabby is contemptible in the eyes of women.

Do you know that women's religion is in their vulvas?

A humid kiss is better than a hurried coitus.

Women like a man who rummages them, even if he is ugly and misshapen.

The coitus of old women is a venomous meal.




I'm so glad I keep so many notes.













* 6 document boxes of news clippings and notes.

Well hello, Thursday

I do so enjoy being surprised by a UPS delivery which means I have to throw on clothes - no bra - then help the driver unload 453 kgs of carpets onto my driveway!

When you say you are coming at lunchtime, that doesn't mean 9am.

Thank you.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

clowns



Did you know that in the traditional set-up, there are four different types of clowns and that almost every comedian or comedienne in history can be categorised into one of these four categories?


Oleg Popov was one of the most famous.



Russian clowns have the reputation of being the best in the world, or were at one time.

Some people are scared of clowns, don't like them or are indifferent.
I am fascinated by them, and all things circus.
Happy Wednesday to you.

Saturday, January 09, 2010

Bright Star

It was beautiful.





Witness:





I did cry. Several times, but ultimately, it was a bit meh and I'm not quite sure why.

I have some ideas. He was very, very thin. His Scottish friend was a fuckwit. Her moles distracted me, and her fringe hanging at the side of her head was too post-modern.

I didn't get their connection. They seemed to jump from her being disinterested to a Grand Love.

Why?

How did she become his Muse?

It was lovely. It really was. And there were some beautiful moments. I liked her spunk, her character.

I think he was really just too skinny. And his friend was too much of a fuckwit.

Friday, January 08, 2010

Hello Friday, oh happy day

Friday has been good to me this week.

Today I have done the following:

- had a kitchen renovation designed, including choosing the surfaces, the accessoires and appliances

- had the pictures drawn and measurements taken, but the other way around

- decided on charcoal for the wooden floors

- eaten a bagel and a banana pancake (a really thick, fluffy one)

- made coffees on our new machine. It's gorge.

- taken delivery of OUR NEW KING-SIZED BED THAT DOESN'T MOVE WHEN CLOKEY TURNS OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- put new, appropriately-sized linen on bed

- heated up napoli sauce, made from scratch by moi. There is nothing simpler. Nothing I tell you.

- moved our old bed into Daughter One's room. It's a queen-size, she will be rapt, even if I do call it "the Boat Bed."

- decided to renovate the bathroom as well

- decided to use long tiles. Ooooh.

- chosen tapware, vanity unit and new kitchen sink. And come in under budget.

What a day of achievements. The only thing on the list not done was see Bright Star. I think we'll be too tired to go tonight. Tomorrow?


Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Anna Karenin

Back on track now with some quality reading.

It is the top shelf stuff.
I think I fill in the gaps with crap so then I can really appreciate the beauty.
That's my theory anyway.
What did Tolstoy read I wonder?


Pretty good actually, better than expected



Enjoyed this one. I liked being able to understand what they said [take note, Guy Ritchie] and the pretty boy leads also I enjoyed. Brad Pitt as an incoherent gypsy is not my cup of tea. [Take note Brad Pitt.]


Still to see:

Bright Star

Bran Nue Dae

Avatar

The Lovely Bones

A Serious Man [non-essential]

Julie and Julia [non-essential]

Monday, January 04, 2010

Brilliant


Simply brilliant.
Goes straight into my Top 20 Ever.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

Today

- this is 550 posts. Big Woop.

- I just organised my Favourites folder.

- I am doing research. It is my One True Love.

- I stopped the horrible Smoke Jumper book. Couldn't finish it. It was abysmal. The first and very grave thing that was wrong with it was the Love Triangle. The worst fucking plot almost ever. I can't think of anyone who's done it well. Shakespeare maybe? Then there was all this guff about photojournalism and African politics; the whole thing was ghastly. Not because of those two things I just listed, but they were used as padding for a very ordinary plotline and some truly mediocre characters. Sorry Nicholas Evans, you have failed mightily with this one.

- reading Ian Gawler's biography which is a breath of fresh air after the previous few books.

- have relocated Anna Karenin and Crime and Punishment. Oh happy Janvier. Also in the same box, the Kindly Ones. I am determined to read these three by Jan 27. I know I won't make it, but it's worth trying. I will be mother-to-only-one sporadically for the first two weeks of Jan, and can read, write, research, organise house. In that order of priorities.

- tonight we aren't doing anything spesh. I really don't care. I'll have a glass of champers. I have a dvd I want to watch. I won't be watching the fireworks or anything like that on tv. The kids can if they want to. Apparently Princess is going to Avatar and then dinner at Crown. Ali wanted to book at Nobu's. Yeah, good luck with that one.

- he also asked me to iron his shirt. I laughed and said I don't even iron my husband's shirts, so why would I iron his? He didn't like it but fuck him. Princess was there as well, and I'm glad she saw her mother not be a doormat. He is starting to emotionally manipulate her a little more (making her feel guilty etc for stuff) so she needs to be resilient and clear on what exactly her obligations are to him. I have always been very careful never to badmouth him to her, but it's hard to balance this with supporting her so she doesn't feel alone with him and his iss-ews. Tough thing to do. Thank god it's only once a year.

- she wants to go to Turkey this year. I'll have to go with, otherwise she'll be married off in some village to a relative and I'll never see her again. Over-reaction? Maybe.

- isn't it hot? And what am I making for dinner? I'm slow-roasting chicken and then will use the leftover white sauce from the moussaka I made Boxing Day (it's a luscious white sauce) to make chicken mornay. So wrong on such a hot day but I don't care. Must use the white sauce.

- am also going to make trifle. Now in fact.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Today

Today I take my little black USB stick to the Officeworks and get two copies of a Word doc printed out.

Then I will give one to my mother and one to my sister.

Then I will collapse into a state of anxiety, and await their comments.

I bet my mum can't be critical in her feedback. She is a typical mother.

In other news today I will make coleslaw (cheat's way, using packet stuff) and go to a friend's for BBQ. I will stay the minimum amount of time to be polite and then leave. Drop Princess at Ali's and collapse back into bed to read.

Now I am reading Nicholas Evans' The Smoke Jumper. What the fuck is happening to me?

Monday, December 28, 2009

So, how are you? WARNING: WhingeFest Following

This time of year is generally unsettling for me. As the clock trips over from November to December, all Hell breaks loose, if not literally then psychically.

We have birthdays (mine, daughter's, MIL's and mother's as well as one best friend. Another best friend's BD is late in Nov. None of this helps.)

We have Christmas approaching, and with it the insanity of shops, presents, children's expectations and my scrooge-like emotions underpinning it all. Not to do with money, I hasten to add. It's all about the fuss and both, I think really I'm just a lazy festivalist. I have no interest in Easter really, or Melbourne Cup. I like the Grand Final if Geelong is playing but otherwise couldn't give a flying fuck. Everyone gets high-spirited and festive and it just doesn't sit with my innate gloom and doom default. I am pretty lacklustre and grumpy at the best of times; Christmas seems to add another layer of gilt-guilt to the whole dealio.

And now here we are. I have to finish my final read-through before I give the MS to my two (volunteer) readers. The thing is, the themes are all about mothers, bad mothers ineffective mothers, possibly murderous mothers, and mother-daughter relationships. What do you do when a reader (member of family) has trouble reading what you've written for emotional reasons? When something they read rings a bell, or resonates in a way that makes them suspect you've written about them? Do you care about that?
I guess I'm just projecting, and anticipating. It hasn't happened yet.

In other news, Ali has arrived with his beautiful girlfriend Fatima. Oh god she is gorgeous. I am in love with her a little I think. Princess is over there now, and they are not far from where we are which is great. They are happy where they are staying, and I am happy they are happy. There is talk of a trip to Turkey in September next year, I can't let her go on her own so I have to go with. HAVE TO. I can see myself set up in a little room somewhere in the South, with a Turkish family perhaps, with my laptop. Writing for a few weeks. Oh how nice. My contract at work would dovetail very nicely with this little idea. Princess is determined to go and I have said yes to 2010 (no to this year. She wanted to go this year because it had been 2 years, and she wants to go every 2 years. But she was starting at a new school, so I said no. I have to say yes to 2010 and I have, so that's that. He'll pay it's not a problem, but for me to go as well, Clokes won't be happy. I'll have to tell him soon...)

Oh well. Tomorrow an obligatory BBQ at a friend's. The day after an obligatory trip to Mt Macedon to see my aunt. Then an obligatory trip to Blairgowrie on NYD for lunch.

Obligation.

But things to look forward to. A day course in January with writers. An appointment with a shoulder surgeon. A haircut. And some time, quiet time, to write.

Reading - my recent choices I think have depressed me a little. I read the Girl With a Dragon Tattoo trilogy, at my dad's behest. The first one I liked in spite of my own snobbish self. Second was not so good, third was a chore. Fuck. And it's such a best seller? They should spend some of the money on re-proofing the damn thing. Now I'm reading My Sister's Keeper (daughter #1 just read it, I like to keep in touch with what the young kids are reading these days but... but...). It's not bad actually and I know I'll cry, but I don't like the way so many characters have a point of view. Too many I reckon for a book of that length. But it's ok.

What to read next? I still need to get to The Kindly Ones (which I've got and had for ages since it was recommended by someone who I don't know well, but trust - BookMoth? I think it was you).

Feeling so lazy and apathetic and flat. I think a bit is to do with my shoulder. It's been troubling me now for over a year, and gotten worse and it's a horrible thing being in pain. Wears you down. And this is minor. I can't imagine what people in chronic pain must do to survive. Actually, I can imagine. They get addicted to painkillers. I hate even taking a Panadol.

I had strange and disturbing dreams this morning. Menstruation mixed with sexual arousal. Some man at a school, older and devastatingly attractive; me with blood gushing out of my vagina, as if from a hose. My god. So vivid, and what the fuck does it mean?

I'm sitting at the table. There's some mince meat cooking, to be merged with leftovers for another leftover meal tonight. I'm not sure what to do now. Maybe I'll eat a mince pie. Yes, maybe I will.