Friday, August 27, 2004

I am a bit nervous because I have sort of made a new blog-acquaintance.

I have offered to send my new b-a a copy of a Ben Folds song that appears on my music live from "The Panel" CD, which as an Australian TV show she is likely not to have heard. This promise came about because as my new b-a says, she has a "fondness for Ben Folds which exceeds that of most things of that she is fond", and she is battling with an ovarian cyst at the moment, so I thought that might cheer her up, given that I'm sure the Panel CD is not a big seller in the States. So, I'm not nervous about sending my b-a the cd with the song, because heh, I know she likes Ben Folds. My problem is what to put on the rest of the CD, because being the lovely b-a that this person is, she has now offered to send me a special mix CD of her favourite songs and so I made the rash statement that I would fill up the rest of the CD with some cool Australian music. This is where we get to now and I realise that I'm not cool and have no idea about cool Australian music.
I mean, at one stage I probably thought I did, but that was me at Uni with nothing better to do.

It did briefly cross my mind that I could fill the CD with any old Australian music and tell her that it was cool and hip, because she wouldn't have heard it anyway, but there is no hope in passing off John Farnham as cool. And then that would be mis-representing the really great music that we do have in Australia. So this weekend my mission is to go right through my CD collection and then raid the CD collection of my sister and hopefully come up with something that is representative of all our little country can offer. I feel a bit like I have the reputation of Australian music on my shoulders. Oh the pressure!!!! (Suggestions are welcome).


Wednesday, August 25, 2004

Group at Machu Picchu 

Group at Machu Picchu
Originally uploaded by Saminoz.
So I am experimenting with flickr until I get a proper album of my photos. This is one someone from my tour took on film, so it isn't very clear. But it shows we made it! I am the one crouched down at the front on the left. Mr R is crouched down at the front on the right. Yes, he is a flaming red head. I'll save my story of my love for readheads for another frivolous post...

I think I have been a bit frivolous here lately. All talk of holidays and embarrassing moments. It's funny how when I choose what to write about, I only seem to choose the lighter things.
Maybe they are easier. Maybe I think they are more entertaining. Most likely I am lazy.

I was going to start this post talking about a weird google hit I had here, but that would be frivolous too. So it was "egg sake bluelight disco on friday" - yeah I don't know what that means either, but google it and I am number three. I could have analysed whether the curious googler meant egg sake, as in "for egg sake don't drop the birthday cake", or egg sake as in the Japanese alcoholic spirit drunk warm. But then neither version of 'sake' goes with the word 'egg' as far as I know, so my conclusion is that the random googler made a typo or can't spell. Or is just strange. Or maybe they got that translation from babel fish which certainly gives me some bizarre translations. A friend of mine has just moved to Amsterdam, and I translate my emails to her into Dutch so she can practice, and then back to English just coz it's funny. My original English statement of:

"(Mr R) is good - we are getting back into some renovating and pulled out the paint brushes on the weekend. The aim is to be finished completely by Christmas, but that is probably a bit unrealistic." was translated into Dutch and then back to English as:

"(Mr R) are well - we recover in some who withdrew and the painting brushes on the weekend renew. The aim is by kerstmis is concluded entirely, but that is probably an unrealistic beetje."

Ha. I could laugh all day at that. Unrealistic beetje! Much funnier than my original statement. "Sar" also came back as "baits" when translated back to English, so I guess that means "Sar" means 'smelly stuff you catch fish with' in Dutch. What a name my wonderful parents have landed me with.

Oh well, bugger it, there was another whole post on frivolous matters. I really do have a deeper side, I'm just too distracted by ridiculous things to show it.

I know - next time I write a post I'll write it, then run it through the translator and back. Should make it pretty funny, even if it is a serious topic for once.

PS. Whilst on silly topics, the template here is a little stuffed at the moment - serves me right for starting to play with it and then running out of time. I need a proper links blogroll bit because I manage to waste a lot of time reading some fabulous blogs that someone else may want to waste a lot of time reading too. Who knows what I have done. Will investigate one of these days. So if you are new here there are archives WAY DOWN THE BOTTOM OF THE PAGE. JUST KEEP SCROLLING DOWN.


Tuesday, August 24, 2004

Four years ago when the Olympics were in Sydney, I think I was asleep or something when the ticket draws were on, and I just never really considered actually going. It all looked too expensive and I had forgotten (just like this time) that I always get sucked in to the Olympics (see earlier post!).

When they started in Sydney I watched the first couple of days and then decided that I wanted to go. I managed to book frequent flyer flights (a miracle in itself) and then get some tickets to a day at the athletics. All we were to see was some heats, some heptathlon events, and the finish of the women's walk. Australia wasn't rated a chance, so we went off to the stadium with no expectation of seeing Australia win anything, we were just excited about tasting the Olympic atmosphere. And the atmosphere was great - I absolutely loved it. Then they started showing the closing stages of the walk on the big screen and an Australian was winning! The excitement in the stadium gradually built to a frenzy when the crowd realised that despite getting tickets on the day that nobody else wanted to go - we were going to see and Aussie gold medal winning performance! The crowd were beside themselves when Jane Saville turned into the entrance to the stadium. They were on their feet and screaming. And then when that bastard official waved that red paddle at her the whole crowd was devastated. I walked away that day having decided that the walk was by far the stupidest event the Olympics had - being so incredibly subjective.

So, I shed a tear this morning when I watched the replay of the bronze medal presentation to Jane Saville in Athens. She was so emotional. What determination. What courage. What a ridiculous sport.

Note that my favourite bit about the whole day at the athletics was when they put out and brought in the hurdles. The officials placed them around the track in a routine synchronised to the "Baby Elephant walk" and it was hilarious. That should be an official event.


Friday, August 20, 2004

Something really embarrassing happened to me the other day. I have waited a bit to tell the story until my shame had subsided. Usually the situation doesn't seem quite so bad after the moment.

Like when I was in grade 2, I was on a school trip to the local pool and we were all getting changed after swimming. I went out to ask the teacher something and then accidentally walked bank into the boys changerooms, where they were in states of undress . I was absolutely mortified. As a girl with only one sister, lets just say that I hadn't seen that many naked boys. And of course the boys all told on me and made as if I had done it on purpose, and I was such a goodie two-shoes, who never did anything wrong, that I cried. Even more embarrassing. Now it sounds like not that big a deal, but I became the girl that had seen all the boys naked and at the time I wasn't that comfortable with that sort of reputation. Now? Heh, it'd be cool to have the bad girl reputation.

So, back to the other day. This is embarrassing because it is basically just stupid, and as a complete snob, I abhor stupidity. And yet, as usual, I'm up there on my high horse and committing the same acts I in others. Yeah, yeah, pot calling the kettle blah blah.

This particular day I went to the petrol station to fill up. I drove up to the right side of a bowser, and then realised that the petrol cap was on the left side of the car. Now, I could have just stretched the pump hose, but I thought that instead I would move the car so that the cap was on the same side of the bowser. So I jumped back in, and drove forward around the bowser to the right, so that I was facing the way that I had driven in. I got out again and gave a dirty look to a man at the other bowser who appeared to be laughing at me. Then I realised that of course the bowser was still on the same side of the car and I still had the same predicament. How stupid is that? Moving your car and yet you are still on the wrong side! So I did what anybody does in such a situation, and pretended that of course I had meant to do that, I wanted my car to face that way and um, I like stretching the fuel hose as far as possible. And I filled up with petrol and hoped that nobody except the laughing Man had noticed. Which might of been ok until I went inside to pay and the attendant said to me,

"It's a bit confusing which side to drive in on, that's why we make the hoses so long. It happens all the time." And everyone in the shop looked at me and I went bright red and gave one of those sort of "ha!" type laughs. The ones that really mean, shut up asshole.


Monday, August 16, 2004

Every four years I swear that I won't get all caught up in the hype of the Olympics, and yet there I was on the weekend awake at 3am to watch the swimming. Mr R woke up at 5 this morning to watch the basketball, and I think the next two weeks will be spent in a bleary eyed haze. Ridiculous.

My favourite bits of the games though are those stories of people beating the odds, coming back from broken limbs, ripped muscles and um, decapitation to win for their country. Puts a tear in my eye every time. That's because I am a big softie, who has been know to cry in television commercials, and I also am completely in awe of anyone who pushes themselves so unbelievably hard. I am the sort of person who will willingly give up any sort of physical activity the second it starts to hurt, so hats off to those who do it for a living.

I am also a sucker for those weirdo sports that you only see at the Olympics, and no doubt after the next two weeks I will become an expert on European handball and table tennis. I think that it is absolutely hilarious that there is normal tennis, and table tennis at the Olympics. It's like having hockey, and then air hockey. Or soccer and fuseball.

Anyway, go Aussies - and any other come back kid who has overcome decapitation. I salute you.


Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Last night Mr R and I were curled up on the couch watching Who wants to be a millionaire. On our holiday the airline had those back of the seat TVs and you could play WWTBAM and consequently Mr R thinks he is good at this game, because he got to the million dollar question. Mind you, he guessed his way to the million, and then he got it wrong. That's not the sort of risk you'd be taking in real life, but it's much more fun to live in a fantasy world. It was funny to play it on the plane, because other people in the seats around you would watch as you failed to reach the $1000 question. Rather embarrassing I would think, except I can't really say becasue of course that didn't happen to me. Ahem. I blame the UK version we were playing because any Australian that knows who the Earl of Shropshire is should have their head read.

So, back to last night, there we were watching this 20 year old guy in the hot seat. And he was a complete and utter dork. Dork. Dork. He made me cringe with his dorkiness, and then Eddie had a chat to his parents, who whilst were not the coolest people I had ever seen, were at least, well, average.

So this is my question - how do sort of normal parents produce such dorky offspring? Is this inherent from birth? This is yet another thing to worry about in the having kids condundrum - what if I get a dorky kid that honks when he laughs and has glasses too big for his face? Can you stop the dorkiness??
Every now and then, I think that maybe I might like a baby. They are cute. And they smell nice (usually). And someone has to sleep in all the bedrooms we have post renovation (but they may want to wait a bit until it is actually finished). And I can stay at home and remove myself form office stuff for a while.

But then I think of all the things you have to go through to actually have and look after a baby and I change my mind. Pregnancy scares the crap out of me. Labour is much worse. Then you breastfeed. Then they cry and you dont sleep. And you have to wipe someone else's bum. They are expensive and time consuming and really, you have to be an adult to look after one of those things. And I'm not an adult! At all times you are responsible for the life of another human - they will die if you stuff up and they accidently roll off the change table. Even if you get through the first year without dropping them on their head, then there are other problems like waking up ridiculously early and not eating what you cook them and throwing tantrums. I'm the only one in my house who is allowed to throw tantrums.

On the weekend, one of my friends with two small kids asked me what I had done that day, and if I had slept in. "Not really" I said, "I guess I got up about 9ish". He nearly fell off his chair, and noted that he hadn't slept past 7am for FIVE YEARS. FIVE YEARS - SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. Oh, my, god. The reality was that I had breakfast in bed, read the paper, pottered around and did a bit of housework, did some shopping, went for a walk, visited my sister and cooked a little. A day just for me. A baby means no more days for me. Gulp.

And I know that every parent out there will tell me that it is all worth it, but man - you have to wipe someone else's bum!!

So what I am wondering is, will I get to the point where my biological clock will override my worries about producing and looking after another human being? Will one day I wake up and just not worry about that stuff anymore? Will I look forward to Labour? And what if I wait for that day to come, only to find it never comes - when do I have to override my worries myself?

Monday, August 02, 2004

After much procrastination, we got back to finishing the blasted renovation on the weekend. Once things got to a liveable state, we were so sick of spending every weekend (and often week nights as well) with a power tool or paintbrush in our hands that we downed tools and have not done anything much for about 4 months.

So, first we wrote a list of what there was to do (3 pages long). Then I cried. Then I checked the bank balance. Then I cried some more.

Then I spent two hours finding paintbrushes and drop sheets and paint and paint stirrers and paint ladles and paint pots. Then I painted for an hour or so. Then I gave up and went shopping.

It's important to have your priorities right.


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