big brother uk

i have missed the boat with the bb here, so apart from occasional shows here and there i don't think i will invest.

however, thanks to the power of ms fits, and her magic linkages, i have just spent some time viewing the wonder that is bb uk.

one character stands out for me. if anyone is ever going to murder a person on bb, i think this girl, nikki, is an out-front leader of who might be the victim.

check her out:

audition tape

nikki in the diary room

"i'm a caged chicken" - rant number 1

"i need bottled water" - rant number 2

"water continued" - rant number 3

is she for real? or is she a vicki pollard character who has been sent in...

the thing, it be done.

1. thesis is at officeworks. will be ready for collection by 4pm, three copies, bound with black plastic cone, clear acetate cover and black back.

2. i forgot to spell check it.


I KNOW
I KNOW


but don't worry. i remembered while i was relaxing in the bath, so got out, got back on the horse and spell checked the fucker.

3. i got up at 6.15 this morning to have the disk at officeworks at 7am.

4. last night john and i got indian take away, set the table with linen, lit candles and opened a bottle of champagne. then we at the last two donuts and watched the tape of prison break.

5. gigi is back to 100 percent, she is jumping out of her skin and ready for a walk. i haven't done anything about the wood other than to collect up what she was chewing and all the bits. will keep a close eye on her.

6. we watched the six feet under tape. what the fuck? does anyone remember nate having a brain tumour scare in one of the earlier seasons? i have the feeling that something very bad is going to happen to all of them. keith and david and the kids will have a bad car crash when they go on holiday, or plane crash, or something. claire will get murdered by billy. ruth and her new-old friend will get savaged by bears in the woods, where they have just arrived to go camping. rico and vanessa, i just don't know. house break-in? brenda, don't know. i don't know anything, but i have very bad feelings.

7. i cried when casserole died on neighbours last week. i did it discreetly, but i didn't want to look at princess because then she would start bawling too, and we'd both be a mess. i confess to really loving neighbours.

8. i also confess to watching a big brother, i think it was friday's show. then i watched some of the friday night games. i watched a couple of big brother series in the early days then was put off big time by hearing poles were installed in the house last time [sorry nadine] and that the girls were really skanky. i don't need the impressionable minds around here (mine included) to be exposed to the ideas that to be a woman you have to be sexy, and that's all you've got to offer. anyway, this current crop seem ok, i was impressed with the girls and their survivor-food-challenge type of iron guts, so i can see i will probably get sucked in. and then need to visit bevis to get up to speed on all things big brother '06.

i think that's all for today.

oh no, a few more.

9. number of items to read on my bed: 2 x mags, weekend papers x 3.

10. length of time i will stay in my nightie* today, at least two more hours. i want to see afternoon and still be in bed.

11. number of lunches i am going out to this week - 3. wednesday with my supervisor, thursday with my girlgang, friday with my bro and mum. so, yay me.

12. i expect i might have a psychotic reaction to being finished. a kind of anti-climactic flatness that might manifest in being gloomy and snappy and wanting to eat too much. has any one else done theses, etc. and found this to happen?

stay well, and has anyone fed the cotton yet?

and does anyone know what's happened to locket?










* before any of you (not looking at bevis) says "oh, but didn't you go out at 6.30 this morning? Did you wear your nightie??!! Hmmmm?? Hmmmm???" I say thusly:

i put it back on when i got home. got back into bed. read. got up to blog. and now am heading back.

friday update, plus krispy kreme depletion rate stats.

sorry, but i have to keep this really business like.

hence the list:

1. there are 4 krispy kreme donuts left in the fridge.

2. gigi is on the up and up. i have cleared wood bits from back yard but at the moment she is lounging on her bed in the... lounge.

3. princess is home again. she is sipping on a honey and lemon concoction which tali's grandmother from school told me about.

4. i had morning tea with a friend. we ate two scones each, and half a spinach and fetta pastry thing from one of those chain bakeries that i detest.

5. we discussed going to the gym and walking/running regularly together.

6. we also discussed frock hunting and scrapbook making for wedding.

7. i haven't had a scrap book since i was in love with this man:









8. featuring adam ant twice in one week on my blog is a bit excessive, don't you think?

9. tammiodo asked who adam ant was. some people gave some info. in the comments section of a previous post. but for a more comprehensive answer, read on. adam ant, aka stuart goddard, was around in 1981. or that's when he started to get a bit more successful. he appeared in a punk rock* movie called jubilee, by derek jarman. adam had screen time totalling about 3 minutes, but i went to see it three times with naomi when we were in hsc, in 1981, at a dingy, shady cinema in town. my other friend di and i would raid the local newsagents for these sort of fold-out magazine things that were imported from england, cost a bomb but had the best pictures. i don't know if she made a scrapbook, but i know i did. i was 17. i got as many of his records as i could. singles. lps. we're talking vinyl here, kids. some of the sleeve artwork was incredibly fuelling to a young girl's crush fantasies, such as these:



























his early songs were really different to his current stuff (at the time) and i felt adventurous and special because i hunted them down and listened to them and knew the words. i remember some lyrics:

"blood gushing, like a shower, plastic surgery!"

um, that's all i can remember.

i went to both his concerts at festival hall, wearing blowsy white shirt, wide piratey belt and skirt of some description. this went well with my black, suede, pixie boots, a la duran duran. i hunted high and low for those boots, and managed to find them somewhere in the city. they were my pride a joy. simone and i bought a picture story book of waltzing matilda, all tasteful and arty, and wrote in the front of it. something friendly and grown up and not at all crushy. and put our phone numbers. and addresses. and went to the southern cross (hotel which is gone now, but might be coming back?) and was allowed through the throngs of on-heat girls to walk it into the front desk. the girls stared at us like they wanted to stab us. we were in our school uniforms too.

then it all went horribly wrong. no, he didn't call. no, my fantasies did not come true. but that's not why it all came crashing down. it all went sour because the next album he released was this one:










so what? i hear you say.

look closer:











when i had fallen in love with a highwayman with a jacket like this:




















how could i love a fop? so it all came to an end. i don't know what happened to the scrapbook. i wish i still had it. i've still got the records. they will come out one day.


10. i have to call officeworks and find out the turnaround time for printing my job.

11. john is going to the footy tonight. i guess i'll be thesising.

12. i think that's all. so much for the brief list. i spent far too much time on the adam ant bit. but it needed full explanation. it's the least i could do, considering the history.





* for some reason, this expression makes me sound like a nana.

the house of doom

time for a quick update on all things melbournegirl.
as it stands, i have one sick child at home (different to princess, she is back at school, and another is now home).
i feel i am not well, but holding it off so i can get through the next few days.
one sick dog, still. but she is so much on the improve, fingers crossed. thanks dxxxx for your lovely thoughts and non-prayer wishes. i don't do the prayer thing either, but am moved to speak of prayers when things go all black. i don't know why, i believe in the power of what would otherwise be known as prayer.
i apologise for this terrible writing.
yesterday the vet x-rayed the gigi, and said either she had an obstruction, which they would only confirm by opening her up, or colitis, which is inflamation of the colon.
[STOP PRESS I JUST REALISED HOW FUNNY THIS IS.
BEVIS????
THIS TYPE OF COLON NOT THIS TYPE (:), OKAY?




i'm not shitting you, we have a colon thing going on, on all fronts here.
the x-rays showed huge, loopy, gaseous intestines, but were not conclusive in terms of an obstruction.
so a very sad and ginger and droopy puppy was sent home with mummy. she ate some dinner last night, a small amount of raw chicken mince and cooked rice stirred through. wolfed it down. she is taking pills, shoved into the food, and i have to syringe 20mls of pink gloop down her throat and then of course as she swallows it, it spills out of her mouth onto my hand.
i won't tell you about the diarrhoea.
mother love.
but she is perkier than she has been in days. she lies on her bed and manages a tail wag when i talk to her. the vet said she tried to bite him when he was examining her again before the x-ray, and she was whimpering in pain as i held her when he checked her nether regions yesterday morning. but she didn't try to bite me.
thesis is going ok. i have to hand it in next wednesday. my supervisor is taking me out to lunch, to discuss the next step, maybe applying for a research grant together, with another academic. might be good.
and guess what. john arrived home from work last night, amongst the drama (mine), the exhaustion (mine) with a huge box of krispy kremes. the mixed dozen. we shared two last night and then i got indigestion and had to have a glass of milk before bed.
but they are sitting there, in the fridge.
i'll be good and wait until i get the other two from school, and we can share a couple.
back to work.
number of krispy kremes left in the fridge: 10

in the last hour of the marathon, she stumbles

i need to make something clear.

when i said i did not find george clooney in the least attractive, i was joking.

joking, people!

clearly my powers of humour are failing, as every bit of energy i have goes into making this lode-stone of 30,000 words which is hanging over my head, stretched across my shoulders like an obese cat, breathing down my neck, coherent.

so all the clarity goes into the thesis, and none remains for me to live my life with.

so sorry about that.

just to re-cap. george is such a big spunk that i even dreamed about him last night. it was one of those dreams, sorry cloke, where the romance is the focus. it's like there is something special there; it's not about sex. there might be a little bit of kissing, but absolutely no raunch. it's all about sitting closely together, whispering to each other, feeling warm and protected.

i hasten to add all these needs are well met in my life, but george managed to sneak in there while i was asleep and completely unable to kick him out of my dream.

better than steel wool, i say.

so, to the marathon. imagine you have trained for the commonwealth games (i'll use that as an image, i figure the olympics would be more for a phd scenario). you are winning, you are almost there, and then as you are dredging up all your reserves of energy and smartness, not to mention thesaurus-like Skillz, your child wanders onto the road. she is crying, with arms stretched out, saying something about feeling hot and shivery, and that her eyes are going to pop out of her head if she moves them. you can see that she looks flushed, you are sure she has a temperature.

what do you do?

do you ignore her, send her to school, and push on.

that is not possible. you stop the race, cradle her to your bosom and put her to bed, carrying trays backwards and forwards the length of the house; tempting offerings. you keep her home from school for two days (and counting). she is so sweet, she apologises for being sick, says you are the best mummy and that next time you are sick, she will take as good care of you, as you have of her.

you keep looking at the pile of work.

but it's not that bad. you have made it sound worse than it is just to write a blog post. for this is the stress, the pressure, making you elaborate in this way.

it will all be ok.

days to submit: 8

keep well everybody, and will someone please feed cotton?

six weird things or habits about me, it's a meme for pomgirl

gee it's been a while since i got tagged. i think i have a reputation for not liking them. i don't mind doing them, but i don't like tagging people. ever since the last time i tagged someone, and it all got a little crazy, i guess i have avoided it.

i struggled with this list. i couldn't think of things, but in the end came up with some. all are true and i'm sorry if some freak you right out.

here are the six weird things or habits about me. or maybe they're not weird. maybe just not every-day.


1.


i know the words to most of the songs on the first side of the evita album. the original, with julie covington.




2.
often in the back of my mind, while i'm going about my day, i have a visual backdrop of certain spots around my old school's playground.
i thought it was weird too. i've only just realised i do this. it's like a song stuck in my head, but less intrusive.




3.



i used to have dreams where i had something like steel wool stuck in my throat. i would just breathe around it, and be pulling it all out. sometimes it would be pins. there was no pain, just inconvenience.






4.

i am obsessed with clipping articles from the newspaper. this can range from a good leunig, to pieces on all sorts of things. i have archive box upon archive box of them, going back years and years - to the 80s. some are inspirational and i like to collect oddments. others are political. others are human interest. some are funny.

clearly i am going to be an old lady with purple hair, too many cats and papers piled high in my death-trap flat in another 40 years.





5.


i have been left a pair of white shoes in someone else's will

i can't be bothered finding the actual reference itself, you'll just have to trust me. certain readers can vouch for this. i know there was some jealousy.






6.



i don't find george clooney at all attractive.



















had you there for a minute, didn't i?


ok, my real number 6 is this. it's a true confession of massive enormity.....




once upon a time, this was the man i loved most in the world.









what a spunk!





do you want to know what he looks like now?

are you sure?

[sobs uncontrollably]

this week's six feet under. you know the drill, don't read if you don't want it spoilt.

i'm so scared about how all this is going to end.

looks like brenda and nate are on the out. what the fuck is he thinking of? maggie hovers alluringly [so, perhaps, he thinks]. we found out this week she's a quaker. not that there's anything wrong with that, but why does she have to be a quaker? will it become relevant in some way? do they not believe in medicine, and so when her son was sick did she refuse treatment for him and let him die?

perhaps this will be revealed soon.

brenda is rightly pissed off with nate; when she said to him "just do what you want to do" she went straight to the crux of the matter. he never seems to do what he wants to do. he doesn't seem to even know. but his return to the family when his father died, his getting involved with the business [remember, david was pissed off that nate had seemed to just run away and left him having to work with his father] is perhaps another example of him doing what he thought he should do, which might not have been his true preference. again, with lisa; she got pregnant and he obviously thought the right thing to do was to marry her and make a family. which so didn't work either.

so what now?

i think ruth is realising that she has perhaps acted rashly; although the way george went off and got himself engaged so quickly is an indication that he really is not stable himself. remember, ruth is wife number 6 or something, so this is a pattern in his life. perhaps it's a cycle of being mentally well and getting his shit together and meeting someone, moving fast with an engagement and marriage, then things fall apart mentally for him, the marriage ends, and so it starts again.

vanessa and rico. shit, the writers just don't want anything to wrap up nicely do they? that's what i love about this show. the creators don't succumb to the easy option of the hollywood endings.

keith and david seem to be getting it together. out of all the vignettes, maybe these guys are going to be the ones to show how it is to live your life well and make good decisions and commit to things. truly commit. perhaps keith and david are going to be the only ones to triumph?

and claire. the best thing about this week's ep was the realisation that her work crew have got this in-joke going where they say "yeah, baby" in response to almost everything and everyone. it was done so subtly at times, where the voice volume was low and in the background, but still there's this chorus of "yeah babys" happening in the background, the foreground, everywhere.

love it.














yeah, baby. love it.

days until i want to submit my thesis: 7

days until i have to submit my thesis: 12

what do you think?

howard is in washington to plant trees with his good ole boy buddy george, and have a bbq on the ranch mayhap?

i wonder whether they will talk about uranium, and nuclear plants, and australia possibly being involved in a leasing arrangement where we lease uranium to other countries like china, and then we take the waste back for storage or disposal of here.

australia has a third of the world's supply, you know.

and what about this little item in the paper today, just tucked away from the front page stories of howard, and nuclear waste leasing agreements:

Nuclear plant plans
Indonesia plans to build its first major nuclear power plant by 2015 and has been offered assistance by four foreign companies... [The Indonesian energy minister] said companies from South Korea, Japan and France had offered to provide technology, but did not specify the nationality of the fourth company.

so what do you think?

1. South Korea

2. Japan

3. France

4. ???

this article mentions china and russia as being committed, along with south korea, japan and france, to helping vietnam build a plant.

oh, the plot thickens.


and from an online article written in 1995:

One regional actor who has sought to play down public concerns about the Indonesian nuclear program is the Australian government. A document from the Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade, leaked to Australian environmental groups, glossed over many concerns about the plants. In addressing the issue of seismic risk, the document notes that "all modern reactors are designed to withstand severe seismic activity" and "the probability of an accident producing even a small release of radioactivity to the atmosphere is extremely low.

and tellingly, this paragraph from the above article:

Australia government support stems in part from the fact that, despite its non-nuclear power policy, the country supplies uranium to some of the world's biggest nuclear utilities. Australia would find it embarrassing to challenge nuclear power plants close to home when its uranium fuels nuclear plants around the world. Australian uranium mining companies have already hosted visits by BATAN officials, with a view to possible contracts early in the next century. Australia also plans to sign a Nuclear Science and Technology Cooperation Agreement with Indonesia. To date, the details of the agreement are being kept under wraps and it will not be debated in the Australian Parliament. Foreign Affairs officials concede that critics might see the agreement as a legitimization of Indonesia's nuclear plans.


do you smell something?

it seems to get worse:

Apart from environmental concerns about the nuclear reactors, critics are challenging the operational and financial structures of Indonesia's plans. One worry is Indonesia's technical ability to operate nuclear reactors. "Indonesia doesn't really need nuclear power; it's an extremely expensive and difficult technology which even technologically advanced, wealthy Western countries have had real problems with. It's dishonest of these countries to allow a technology to be built in Indonesia which has failed or is now rejected in their own country," says Dr. Paul Brown of the University of New South Wales, Australia. "There are real questions as to whether Indonesia has the technical infrastructure needed to adequately support the industry," he says.


so who is doing who here?

It will be Japanese and American engineers and technicians who oversee this project. This is a form of technological colonization.

oh the japanese and the americans. now i'm starting to understand.

When the Indonesian government takes control of the reactors, they will be 15 to 20 years old, a mature age for nuclear plants.


gulp


The government will get limited additional service out of the reactors before having to bear the substantial cost and risk of decommissioning them.

i'd say ripped off.

These are matters that Indonesian academic George Aditjondro, currently at Murdoch University in Perth, Australia, thinks should be discussed as part of a wider development issue in Indonesia.

clearly still hasn't happened.

It's part of a push to get new technology, particularly certain Western technology, without thinking through the environmental consequences," he says.

great.

Whether Indonesia's nuclear plans proceed depends on many factors. The World Bank has said that nuclear power is the last energy option that Indonesia should explore.


the last energy option that Indonesia should explore.


Even B.J. Habibie, Indonesia's research and technology minister and the man behind the current push to build the reactors, was recently reported as saying that nuclear power will be given "the lowest and last priority" over other energy sources. Last year, the Indonesian Environment Minister Sarwono said he did not expect to see nuclear power in Indonesia in his lifetime.

short memories, or long lives?

President Suharto, who has previously given unconditional support to the project, has urged caution. "We have various energy alternatives, and with good planning we must increase their utilization, such as hydro energy and wind power that are abundant," he told a May 1995 mining and energy conference in Jakarta. "We are aware of big risks in using nuclear energy, especially if it leaks. Therefore, we need to study very closely the experiences from other countries in nuclear power use."

clearly they've done that too

Jakarta's enthusiastic view of nuclear power may be fading. This gradual recognition of the technology's environmental and financial risks may prove too powerful for even Mitsubishi and Westinghouse to overcome.

you reckon? i'd say not.

this article also mentions some of the same players; there seems to be a pattern here. surely they aren't all moving into position to gang up on australia.

nah, not possible.



[goes back to watching mindless tv, becoming obese with diabetes and skin cancer and drinking far too much alcohol, while smoking lots and lots and voting in liberal governments over and over.]

of boots and men

now that the miners are safely out, and the media are intent on spoiling everything, i did tell you so, i can relax back into my trite observations.




is it that they make a different sound on the footpath?

do i walk differently?

i know i'm taller but really; what's the big deal with the boots?

i bought some new boots. they are brown. they have a beautiful heel.

today i went up the street to have lunch with a girlfriend. i seemed to get so many looks, from the old dude hanging near the rsl to the tradey crossing the pedestrian lights, and then from all types in between.

it's like for some men

this






somehow becomes this





which clearly is an announcement that i am about to break into this
























in the middle of the street.

yesterday when i mentioned to my honey i'd bought new boots (expecting him to gulp and ask how much) he merely made a noise like a little baby lion growl.

what is it about boots?

one big tick and a cheer, one big boo, thumbs down, spit on the channel 9 programmer

let's enjoy the moment. these things are rare and all too soon will be spoiled.





















and to the channel 9 programmer or whoever decided to put on a double ep of hotel babylon and pulled six feet under this week, i hope you die right now.

spare a thought

while you are praying for my soul, against the satanic pull of youtube, please think about this bloke and his mate, trapped under ground for 10 days now.

i just got out of the shower and was thinking, in the time they have been trapped i have done the following:

had about 8 showers (one little secret, i don't always wash every day. i don't go to an office and hang with other people.)

(so i can get a little fruity if i want)

washed my hair twice

eaten about thirty meals, plus occasional sneaky snacks

watched about 8 hours of tv

watched one angelina jolie special on youtube

found what has to be the best lady-arse in the world (also on youtube. wait, be patient. i may share)

taken the gigi for about 6 or 7 walks

cooked about 5 meals

heated up about 5 lunches

had sex about 3 times?

maybe 2

sad, isn't it?

sent about 10 text messages, or maybe 8

made very few phone calls, maybe 5

done about fifty wees

had one vag wax, i think. i think that was last week. no, that was the week before. strike that.

watched the two chinese boys i want it like that in full about one.thousand.times.

vaccuumed once

entertained friends for dinner once

drunk about.... mmmm... too many glasses of wine

driven to uni twice, i think

eaten pork zero times

had cous cous for lunch twice

not eaten enough fruit

slept ten times

been to the supermarket about 3 or 4 times

mailed one letter

bought the age ten times

read one new weekly mag

wished i looked like angelina, even 8 months pregnant: once or twice

hugged my princess: about 20 times

told her i love her: about 20 times

read 132 pages of a new book - by mr easton ellis

sat down at this fucking computer: 100 times

gotten up to make a cup of tea: 100 times

noticed why my shoulders are getting really tired and sore, and why my brain wakes up way before my body does: constantly in the last ten days.


BUT

the miners have been stuck in a cage, buried alive, in a space 3m x 1m. i just don't know how they are keeping it together.

but they've got an ipod. and other stuff. and i really really hope they get out soon. and ok, without something really bad happening. whenever i think of them, i kind of hold my breath. it's the same when i watch people diving under water. even though the big blue is one of my favourite movies, i think i almost passed out a few times while watching it.

let's hold hands and wish the miners well.

ps. back to me, helooo! oooooh! over here. just one more thing. do you think i should say yes to an ipod for mother's day? i just don't think i'd use it. is it poor form to put in an order for mother's day? is it ungracious? part of me thinks it is. another part of me thinks a mother needs all the gifts she can get her hands on.

uh-oh, oh no, i'm a goner. what am i going to do? how can this be? shit.

current (online) obsession. i just never thought i would have a crush on two lipsyncing chinese boys.
at once.

just checking in.

with two words for you.

you.

tube.

i am in big trouble. for an addictive personality, comme moi, who has to get a thesis in, like pronto, discovering something like youtube is at once an excitement of the highest order, tinged with anxiety. because i know it will be so hard to resist. especially as i cast my eye, and my mind, around for ever-more distractions, in the lead up to my submittal.

i am over the thesis. i want it in. out of my hands. off my back.

and then i can quietly have a little reaction, get even more moody than usual as i wonder what to do with myself, and why does my life have no meaning, etc etc.

i know.

i should just tell myself youtube will wait for me. and that will be my life meaning. to explore and find and share all sorts of jewels that i'm sure are waiting there for us all.

pray for me.

the dormitory boys

this has been making me smile. check it out. they've got lots of songs but i'm linking to one of my favourites.
http://twochineseboys.blogspot.com/2005/10/i-want-it-that-way.html
ps check the guy in the background. there's always a guy in the background. i thought it was a mirror at first. also, wait until the song finishes and then there are some "outtakes".
beautiful.

six feet under - discussion of this week's episode.

[the formatting of blogger is pissing me off but i haven't time to fiddle, so apologies.]

in this episode the beginning, where someone dies, shows ruth's sister sarah walking up a mountain with another woman, her best friend fiona. fiona somehow stumbles after commenting she didn't think she would make it to the top, and falls off the cliff and dies.

it turns out she was the woman who at 32, when nate was 15, took his virginity. as he said sadly about half way through the episode, he wrote her silly poetry and at an age when he was fumbling around in the dark, trying to get his hands down the pants of girls his own age, she showed him her whole body, and (it remained unsaid) allowed him to explore it.

the way the writers managed this piece of history was so well done. at the beginning of the show, there was an almost-missed comment by ruth about what "fiona had done to nate." it was left there, subtle, so you almost didn't give it another thought, as there was so much else going on.

then slightly later it was revealed fiona had been his first lover. but nate said she was his first love, and there was an excruciating moment when she is on the slab, breasts bare, being tended to by rico when rico insensitively asks nate how she has held up physically, since the time he first saw her naked. nate gets pissed off, covers her with a sheet, and this is the moment when he said she was his first love.

also in this episode we realise that ruth has left george. it snuck up on me. i must be as naive as george is, for when it became clear that she had moved him into a new apartment, by lying to him that they were both moving in, yet she only took one change of clothes, i felt as sad for him as he looked. he kept his dignity at the end, as he closed the door in her face, and left her standing there. i thought of the opening scene a few episodes ago when we saw the young george holding his mother's hand as she slowly goes to sleep after overdosing on pills and alcohol. and there he was, a woman he loved leaving him again. cruelly.

billy is shitting nate and brenda with his hanging around.

maggie asked nate not to ever lie to her, and that she would promise to do the same. what kind of oath is this? what kind of person requires this sort of promise from an acquaintance?

claire looked gorgeous in her pastel shades of office wear; the riding pantyhose, the stultifying workmates. and then not getting her art grant. what is going to happen there? but at least she and ruth had a hug, though i was unsatisfied that ruth didn't apologise after treating claire appallingly.

keith and david! oh no, they are being tested. but this is life, this is how it happens. keith wants to give up on dorel and his little brother after two weeks. david rightly senses they are just right at the beginning. it could take years for them to establish a trusting relationship. i hope they stick it but keith "overparented" by getting physical and angry with the boys, and as david said, turned into his father. who he detests. is this what happens to us all? we turn into our parents? why can't we break the cycle? because we only know one way?

some good news (i think) was that vanessa asked rico to move back in, which was all he really wanted. to be with his boys again. i hope this works out. but it might not. who the fuck knows anymore? this show is just so unpredictable, which is one reason why i love it so much. you know billy could either kill himself, do a massacre-type job on everyone, or turn up in the next episode with a new girlfriend.

i had an awful thought that everything will just blow up and everything will go bad. that there will be no happy endings. please don't make any comments about what you might know about this show, if you do know what happens. but you're welcome to make comments about what you think might happen. i'm happy to read supposition, i'll just be heartbroken if anyone spoils it for me. i have access to the episode guide but am not going to look.

my fingers are not as long, nor as skinny, as kate moss'

[warning: this post contains text about six feet under, particularly the episode shown this week. it also contains text about chimney sweeping.]
okay. i am coming down to the wire with my thesis. i cancelled an appointment with my supevisor today so i can write. my days are messy; yesterday the chimney sweep plus my mother managed to combine and suck all the hours from my window of opportunity between school-drop-off at 9am and pick-up at 3.30pm. the hours fly, as they are now. and i have no excuse about blogging do i. the chimney sweep is not making me do it. but i have to have the right mental state in place to sit and write and think clearly about structure and flow and coherence. to be coherent is extremely difficult.
and here i am blogging. i've painted my nails bright red, which is something i don't usually do. toenails, yes. fingernails, no. but i wanted to approximate the kate moss look, you know girls, when she has short nails, but they are red. and they look fucking awesome with her long, skinny fingers. my fingers are not as long, nor as skinny, as kate moss'. it's funny how much i want to put another s after moss' like this: moss's.
to business.
three words.
SIX






FEET











UNDER.








you will just have to indulge me for the next seven weeks, because for the moment, sfu is my obsession. hear me? obsession.
it's come like a godsend back into my life. there was such a long break between seasons i thought it was lost to me forever. i'd seen it in the video shops but it didn't seem to have the correct shows. then out of the blue, it returns.
for me, sfu is unlike any other show i've ever watched. and i've seen a lot.
so, no big brother [used to watch it and like it until it got too skanky], no survivor, no amazing race. we do watch desperate housewives, and prison break and medium. and neighbours.
neighbours, i love. prison break is ok. like, just ok. not great, but there are characters i do enjoy, such as teabag is just such a thigh-grindingly creepoid. desperate housewives is good for watching bree and lynette, but the others are wearing thin. medium is great but i always feel it should have gone for another hour, and the endings can feel rushed and a bit pat.
last night we watched our taped episode of six feet under. nate and brenda seemed to reach a rapprochement, so i'm hoping that will be the end of the tension. maggie came to dinner with george; i really wonder what the maggie character will do.
seems david and keith are going to adopt a boy who has an older brother as well. we haven't met the brother but there's promise that he might be difficult. but david and keith are getting on so well, i LOVE the dynamic between them. the tender looks, the graceful bowing to each other's preferences.
billy is such a pathetic character, it is so hard to watch; his neediness and his on-the-brink-of-panic is so replusive. claire has such a good head on her shoulders, she is strong and she knows what she will and won't put up with. you can see she can't stand to be near him, and when she was tricked into seeing him not once, but twice, and the second time with the assistance of his mother, you couldn't blame her for just running away from the restaurant when she said she was going to the toilet.
george and ruth looked at a house, in an interesting area of town that is near the market and something else, a museum or gallery? ruth's face looks lighter and george is so loving with her. there was a very subtle after-sex scene, where she looked particularly harrowed and you just knew she had done it for him.
rico spoke about vanessa's private business behind her back to the principal of the kids' school and another mother; a transgression that was unforgivable and completely killed any chance of them getting together. i love the way rico speaks; he is so solemn and precise, and uber courteous. it's delicious.
and finally, a bit of closure about lisa and her death. i was wondering whether it would be mentioned again. it came up in the context of brenda thinking maya should be being told about her "first mommy" and nate was feeling rushed about it. then it all came out, his feelings about the way lisa died, that she'd been having an affair with her brother-in-law, and, shockingly, the thought nate has obviously been nursing that perhaps maya is not his biological child. this is something i had never considered, and brenda said they were also things that she had never thought of.
each episode is so full. i am going to be so bereft when it finishes. unlike arrested development and curb your enthusiasm i feel i have invested so much emotion in this show, in the characters and the stories. they are like family, my family. never has a show so thorougly moved into my mind and taken up residence before.

old soldiers make me cry. everytime.

we weren't planning to go yesterday, to the anzac march. when i was a kid, me and my friends used to mock the old soldiers, pretending to be them, limping along with spastic hands to the beat of a drum. we thought we were really funny.

somehow, princess and i found ourselves there, right up the front, watching the old soldiers, and the young, marching past. there were oldies in classic jags and rollers, even one in a khaki nissan pintara. i think the tears come from the misguided belief that these old men fought for a people, a country. when in fact they were young and strong, and as much a hot-headed bastard as any.

the best moment for me was when the wrans passed [army nurses], elderly and soft-looking plump ladies with white gloves and faded hair. as they marched by, there were several wolf-whistles from the crowd, which made everyone smile.

----------------------------------------------

on monday, princess said to me:

we learnt about gallipoli at school today. we won! we won! aha! aha! [and she made the movement, you know the 'we rock' type movement that kids do, with the arms in circles in front of their body, like a victory dance]

it took me a second to realise she was talking about the turks, and that she was one of them.

then yesterday she said, we were fighting on the british side. and i realised she was talking about we as australians.

what an interesting perspective for her.

----------------------------------------------

of course, i met her father in 1990 when i travelled to turkey to go to the 75th anniversary commemoration at gallipoli. i met her dad on the very day we travelled down to the peninsula, the 24th of april. i arrived at the site with my friends at around 4am and found good spots right at the front of the fenced off entrance, where the diggers would walk to their seats for the service. as they started coming, just before dawn, each one accompanied by a young australian or new zealand soldier, the crowd clapped and cheered. old men were brandishing their walking sticks, and grinning at the crowd. i couldn't do anything other than clap, and cry. and take lots of photos. i had tears flowing down my face. i shook bob hawke's hand, and hazel's. i was surprised by his soft grip. we listened to the last post bugle, we listened to the speeches, which i couldn't hear very well. the sound system was crap. but it didn't matter. i'd seen the old boys, and then later as we trundled around various cemeteries and monuments we saw a bus of the old soldiers leaving the area. there they were, small and still excited, waving out of the bus windows at us as they passed.

gallipoli is close to my heart for various reasons*. but i'll never forget the first time i read the words of ataturk, on one of the memorials. it still tugs at the heart-strings:


Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives... you are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us, where they lie, side by side here in this country of ours. You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries wipe away your tears. Your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land, they have become our sons as well.


* not least the fact i got touched up by a turk in one of the trenches.

only eight eps to go of six feet under, don't read it if you don't want to know some stuff

six feet under would have to be one of my favourite shows of all time.
i think when it finishes, i will need the dvd collection. i will miss it, the show, and the people.
check out the hbo website to remind yourself of what has happened thus far, and after this week's episode where nate bashed the blue bird (of happiness?) to death with a broom at his surprise 40th birthday party, i just don't know that it will all be ok in the end.
i know the creator Alan Ball has tried to keep it realistic and resisted some writers wanting to break up relationships so they can write new things. he said
sometimes i exercise veto power. for the longest time there was a lot of energy behind splitting david and keith up and letting david move on, because there was concern that keith was not a good partner for him... i fought that. i just felt that this is what these characters are going through, this is what will solidify them as a couple. a lot of times writers get bored: 'i want a new doll to play with.' i think what's more interesting is trying to maintain a relationship with somebody who's so different. what i'm interested in is seeing these two men who are basically good people with different pathologies trying to make them work... no this show is not about moving on and getting the next new exciting thing to happen. this show is about what it is like to remain in a relationship. this show is about what it is like to remain alive while other people die. you stick it out. you don't just jettison and move on.
[taken from the age green guide, april 13, p.16]






what is going to happen to claire and billy? actually, i think claire can take care of herself. in which case, what is going to happen to billy?







is claire ever going to make things up with ruth? they are so hating each other right now.







david and keith have been getting on so well. are they going to get their baby and be happy?








how significant will george's daughter maggie be? was i imagining a frisson or two between her and nate? he was leaning in for a kiss at his party, was he not?







will we ever find out anything more about lisa? it seemed to jump from when her brother-in-law confessed to nate and then shot himself. that was the end of the season, and then this season there seemed to be a gap, or is that just me?








i just love that kitchen. this isn't a question or a loose end. it's just a statement. i love that kitchen.







will rico and vanessa get back together?










will ruth ever be happy again? will george be ok. a heartbreaking scene this week, involving him and his mother. truly one of the saddest things i have ever seen on film.
and finally:










will nate fucking get his shit together and make a life with brenda? she's already feeling insecure, she has done really well to pull herself together, she's pregnant again after a traumatic miscarriage the day before their wedding. why does he seem to keep repeating the pattern, and behaviour, of a commitment phobe? he's done it all along. is this going to be his fate?
and really, did nate die during season two? is it going to be like some sort of inverted bobby ewing thing or the sixth sense all over again? are they going to fuck with our minds?

the squid and the whale. if you don't want to know about the movie, then don't read this post. there's also a bit at the end, don't read that too.

if you've ever been touched by divorce, i recommend this movie, the squid and the whale. it's harrowing in parts but deftly done. and it has the added bonus of a baldwin, thrown in, along with laura linney, jeff daniels and the rest.

my parents divorced when i was about 14. there's a scene in the movie when the parents sit the kids down to tell them, and the anguish on the younger brother's face made me remember my own situation. my parents sat me and my brother down on the couch to tell us. i can recall my inner voice screaming, no, no, no. i knew it was coming, i knew what they were about to say. the younger brother in the movie also knew, and his face screws up with tears, even before they speak the words.

i remember looking out our loungeroom window to where my younger sister was doing cartwheels on the grass. i remember thinking she's so lucky, she doesn't know yet.

then a generation later, a lifetime later, princess and ali and me are sitting on my bed. we are telling her that we are going to get divorced. i still feel bad about it. but there was nothing else we could do. it was just too hard and we were just too miserable.

i used to tell people that my parents breaking up was the best thing for all of us. that i couldn't have gotten to know each of my parents as individuals had it not happened. that we would have all been mired in misery had they not split.

now i'm not so sure. i feel damaged by it and everything that followed. what if they could have pushed through that? would things have gotten better? would our family still be intact now?
would i have still gone and married such an Unsuitable Man?

my sister and i saw this film last night. then we went and had a coffee in a place with booths on chapel street.

we talked about my dad and her eyes were red-rimmed. she asked me what i think will happen with him in the future, whether we will all become estranged from him. it's been like a slow-motion event, this growing apart? how can you maintain a relationship, a bonded meaningful relationship, with your father when you don't see him that often, and his wife is not your mother?

too many questions. i like movies that make me think.

the other one we were possibly going to see was a french one with with monica and gerard, which looked like a variation on indecent proposal. in the preview it had monica on gerard's lap, as his wife, as he caressed her breast and asked another man, what is she worth, for you to compensate me for my pain, etc etc, in losing her. this other man is rich and presumably he will pay gerard for his wife, who seems to be a prostitute? and without having seen the movie, i think they are in cahoots to do the man out of his $4mill. but you get to see her breasts side on, as she is lying on her back. they absolutely defy gravity.

am i a real dope?

ok, this is one of those cotton-type posts where you get to vote.

yesterday, when i said i dropped a bag of dope into the caulfield police station, i was not jesting, dear readers.

in the garden, right under princess' bedroom window, we found a large jetstar bag filled with a huge quantity of hydroponic-type organic stuff, which reeked of something other than garden herbs.

i could see the little star-shaped leaves. all dried up. i could see the heads.

it had been wrapped, taped and tossed over the fence. so it seems.

these were the options:

1. try to sell

2. keep to smoke

3. throw in bin

4. throw in bin up the street

5. give to friends

6. hand in to police.

now before we go any further, i must explain john was home from work, organising some plumbing. so, we had the fatherly greek plumber out there as well. in the garden, near the bag of dope. in fact they kind of found it together.

"that looks like marijuana" said the greek plumber, in his accented english. "is it yours?"

"does it?" said john. he has never seen it before. "no, it's not mine!"

"well, i'm going to throw it away, whatever it is," said john and came inside to show me.

i was sitting at the dining table, thesising. i stuck my world-weary head in the bag and smelled the smell. it had been a long while, my friends. i picked out great clumps of the stuff and looked at it closely.

"i'm pretty sure that's dope, honey," i said.

then we had a conversation about what to do with it. options 1,2 and 5 were out of the question. we are fine, upstanding citizens.

the complication was, dear friends, i think this house has been a hydro house in a past life. when we moved in, there were (and still are) holes in the ceilings of the three kids' rooms, some patched some just left. holes arranged in such a way that they form a large rectangle across the ceilings. also, we found a circular hole sawed into the floorboards in a corner of one of the rooms. just left there, with the carpet over the top. so anybody's ankle could go through it.

so i had my suspicions. also, wondered how the young landlord/developer got so rich to be able to own this house, as well as three neighbouring houses. how come his father knows what marijuana looks like?

i don't think there's necessarily any connection between this house's past life, and this bag o' dope in our garden. a coincidence? BUT i didn't want it in our bin. garbage is not collected until monday and there may not be one next monday.

i also didn't want it in another bin in case someone came looking for their dope. i don't want to be in the middle of a drug war, or similar. i wanted it on record that we'd found it, and handed it in. [stop it! i can hear you groaning.]

so i called the police station. spoke to a cop and he said to bring it in. i said i didn't want to drive with it in my car. (we are talking a lot of stuff here. like a small pillow's worth, from my elbow to fingers long at least and a foot wide. think grass clippings in a large plastic bag, several handsful. this was not some "youth stash". this was a big business delivery or something like that gone wrong. it was at least half a kilo)

the police man said to put it in the boot, and gave me his name in case i got stopped.

i drove it to the station and took it in, and handed it in.

i told another officer about the house, how we found it in the garden. he was going to call the agent, he said it sounds like the house was used at some stage for that kind of operation, that electricity would have been re-routed, as it costs thousands. and that's what they do.

i said to him "look, i've got three kids. we've done the right thing here. i don't want my door kicked down in the middle of the night by police. i don't want my kids scared. if anyone wants to come and look at the house, they're welcome. just make an appointment."

he said that shouldn't happen.

great.

oh, and i got a receipt. which very drily says i do not wish the good returned. it's not a wallet with money or a gold ingot we're talking about here. and it has written in the property description section '1 x bag "marijuana" '

not happy about those quote marks. when i asked the officer what will happen with it, he looked me right in the eyes and said "it'll be destroyed."

"rubbish," said my friend on the phone today, "they'll sell it."

the other funny thing was my palms were itching like mad yesterday morning. and that's stopped.

easy come, easy go.

so, now you get to vote.

1. we are idiots.

2. we did the right thing.

be honest. i don't mind. we know we did the right thing, but what would you have done?

an ordinary life

what do i do all day i hear you ask?

well here are some of today's activities, in no special order:




organise a chimney sweep. hope he has a top hat and is older than four years old.









do several lots of dishes. it just never ends.








collect the mail.











drop off a large bag of dope to the caulfield police station.








then take the library books back.





do some thesis. please don't make insensitive comments about my man hands. i'ts always been a touchy subject with me.







blog








procrastinate










"take a break"









do the school run once. only once though because john is at home today.







which means i can do some more of my thesis.









make some calls.










read the paper.





talk about what to have for dinner.









do a couple of loads of washing.











tell gigi she's a good girl.

this is a very old picture of her, but it's so cute. it's the gigilove.

















watch neighbours.





and that about wraps up my day.

by the way, we are having a bbq.