Friday, December 9, 2016

Friday Favourites: Dirty Dancing

One of the joys of Friday Favourites of yesteryear when K and I both used to blog daily was our mutual appreciation of the Friday favourite. Sometimes we be gushing over a shared favourite thing, like Prince songs or Damon Albarn. Other times we'd just be enjoying each other's love of a favourite thing. Like K and Babs or me and NPH. So it's a shame we don't get to hear from K today. 

When we were kids there was a girl that lived up the street from us, let's call her Choo Choo. She had the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on vinyl and we didn't have it on anything so we sometimes used to contrive reasons to borrow it from her without also having to invite her over. Eventually she moved out of the street, along with the Dirty Dancing record and although at the time the best thing about that seemed that we didn't have to hang out with her anymore in retrospect the best thing was that we didn't have to be such little bitches anymore. 

At the time I don't think I even liked the movie that much but I sure knew a great soundtrack when I heard one. And I definitely under appreciated Patrick Swayze but I'm glad to say one of the gifts of age is a broad appreciation of great things and that includes this movie and Patrick Swayze. First, I love choreographed dance. Any kind of dance really but I especially love group dancing as at the end of this film. Now I own this movie on DVD and I watch it every time it's on television. Most recently on Wednesday night. It's such a delight to find it on TV and I basically smiled the entire time I watched. 

Here are some of the great things  about this movie: dancing; Patrick Swayze; the upstairs-downstairs story; the way that Baby and Johnny know how to have a great time; music; all the great lines. 

Dirty Dancing you are a bona fide Friday Favourite!

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Life goals Thursday

J is right but I'm still following two clothes shops on Instagram because I like looking at the ads. 
You know what else I like? Rebecca Judd. Or at least, her Instagram feed. And not in a hateful way. I don't like her feed because I like hating on her. I like it because she seems kind of charming. It happened very gradually. One day Instagram suggested a post from her. As if, Instagram I thought. But then I looked at it and it was about one of her kids, and seemed kind of funny. Then I started looking at her posts, like, seeking them out. And sure enough, the are sometimes charming and funny. Once, on Chris Jude's birthday, she posted a photo and said happy birthday chris judd, I would be up shit creek without you. I thought it was kind of nice.
I don't follow her yet. I'm not prepared to do that. But I am prepared to admit that on Instagram, I kind of like her. 

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Life Goals Wednesday

I recently stopped following a bunch of brands on instagram that I felt were inspiring my inner consumer too much. Again. A while ago I did the same thing, basically stopped following a bunch of clothing brands and retailers who sell nice things. Because they just made me want to buy clothes all the time. But then slowly, I started following them all again.  Isn't it weird that one follows brands in Instagram? It means that you are willingly just scrolling through a heap of ads. Ads! Willingly! The thing that most of us think we want to avoid all the time. And yet with the current state of things we willingly subject ourselves to them. On Instagram, on mailing lists. Those evil geniuses have sucked us in with nicely styled images and promises of loyalty discounts and now we are seeking out ads! Those things that we used to complain about when they came on during TV shows but now mistakenly think we are avoiding by watching everything on catch up TV and Netflix and illegal downloads. But we must have secretly loved them because we find other ways to access advertising. Willingly! (I guess I'm having trouble coming to terms with this). 

Well today I take a stance. I don't want to be advertised to! I have some dignity! (Jokes. I have no dignity.) I'm unsubscribing from lists and I'm unfollowing on Instagram  and I'm going to become a better, less consumerist person. Or I hope so. Let's see how I'm feeling in a week. 

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

A festive season list

If I wasn't excited about Christmas already, J's Memento/Fifty First Dates/The Santa Clause dream certainly did the trick. I keep chuckling at the thought of all the drama and tension and confusion over why the wrong brother showed up. I guess it's been a pretty big year for everyone and J's subconscious is the first to say it's time for a break.

I'm pretty excited about Christmas, I have to say. KB was to little to care about Christmas last year, though we did try to get him in the festive mood.
This year he is more into stuff. Right now, he is having a great time putting the TV remote control in his nappy bag and then taking it out again. So I feel like we can have more fun with him this christmas.

And I'm excited about Christmas because I am hoping to acquire some of the cookbooks I've been eyeing off all year. Here's my wish list.

First, Classic German Baking by a lady who writes a nice blog called The Wednesday Chef.

It's baking and it's classic and I like it.

Next, Small Victories.

It seems like one of those good books full of practical tasty stuff to make for dinner during the week. Like, a repertoire expander rather than a mind blower.

This one might be a mind blower. Or just have its hand on it.

It's the cookbook of the kitchen of the studio of Olafur Eliasson, the artist, in case you hadn't caught on. It looks annoying and tasty.

There are several others but KB is getting bored with the remote control caper, so I'd better save them for another post.

Monday, December 5, 2016

The festive season begins

It's no secret that the Misses Soft Crab love Christmas. Mostly. And given that it is now December 5 it's time to admit that the festive season has begun. Decorations are everywhere, the weather is heating up, on Friday when I had to cross Alexander Parade at 9am there was a noticeable lack of traffic on the road. It's practically holidays already. And I'm not the only one who's ready to admit it, my unconscious is too.

Last week I woke up from a vivid dream that was basically a sci-fi/thriller in which Ben Affleck was breaking through barriers of space and time in an attempt to find Santa Claus to prevent some kind of evil. Every year Affleck starts this mission but each day always ends with memory loss so he's frantically trying to discover whether he's found Santa while also looking for Santa until he realises... HE IS SANTA. It was basically Memento meets Fifty First Dates meets The Santa Clause. Though I want to make it clear it was not cute or a kids movie. It was more of a dark, gun toting, thriller Santa chase.  Merry fucken' Christmas.

Though in some ways I would like to spend some time figuring out what this dream all means and what I could learn about myself I'm too disappointed in my subconscious to give it the respect of my time. It is just so terribly disappointing that my brain has been doing all this hard work thinking about Casey Affleck a lot recently and my unconscious goes and dreams about Ben. It harks back to that time I dreamt about Donny Wahlberg instead of Marky Mark. I guess if I wanted I could look into why it keeps sending me the hunks' brothers, but I'm just assuming that in its sleeping state my brain is too lazy to conjure up the right guy. Right? Right! Nothing more to interpret here folks. Welcome to December.

Friday, December 2, 2016

A final word on Friday

I am watching The Crown too! I've only watched two episodes but I kind of love it. QEII is so young and adorable and Prince Phillip is so Prince Phillipy.
I wonder when the monarchrome experimentation  begins.  I really do want the queen to live for a long time. 

Thursday, December 1, 2016

It's so boring

It is so exciting that the E class team is hitting the #86 route. I far prefer the tram to the train but that D class makes pram-tram travel so unpleasant I've basically given up on the tram. But I'm looking forward to reuniting with, it E-class style! 

Now, I know I promised on Tuesday that I'd get out of the house so that I had something to write about, but in fact for today's post I've only managed to get out of my head, which is in fact what I was really talking about on Tuesday, just in metaphor, so mission accomplished I guess. 

This week I've watched a couple of episodes of The Crown. When I first heard about this series and how Netflix spent really big bucks on it I felt kind of surprised. I mean I love QEII but her life just seemed like a kind of boring premise for a TV series. 

Of course one pleasure of watching it is that QEII, Prince Phillip, everyone is turned into people. Elizabeth is more than just a monochrome dream. I watch documentaries about the Queen and the  running of the palace at every opportunity and although I've seen QEII driving herself around in her Land Rover and Phil tending to his farm I have never really gotten a sense of them as people and so I guess that's why Netflix put so much filthy lucre into this show, we all just want to see that human queenie. But you've got to view biopics as fiction, I always think. Sure the events may be fact but everything else is just someone's interpretation, at best based on someones' memory, but mostly probably on a wish or an idea. So watching The Crown we're all just fooling ourselves. But I'm cool with that. 

But really, I was right. It is kind of boring. And yet I'm thoroughly enjoying watching it. All those long shots of grand rooms, all the outfits which are yet to become monochrome. All the silent meaningful looks from the staid British characters. The show is kind of like QEII - a comforting presence I enjoy despite myself. Long live the Queen.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

E is for about time

I catch the #86 tram to work which is always an interesting experience. It's a bit of a slow coach, especially compared to the glorious #96, the queen of trams, which I used to catch when I lived in the 3056. The #86 lurches and stumbles while the #96 glides with elegance and grace. This is partly because of the swish E class trams that they use on the #96 which can only glide with elegance and grace, while the #86 has those D class trams that have stairs and narrow doorways and are very unfriendly to people with prams or mobility aids.  The #86 has a gazillion stops and lots of twists and turns while the #96 shoots down Nicholson street like and arrow and gets you where you're going in no time. I loved the #96 for its efficiency but I have to say, I have come to love the #86 for its rough and ready quality. It's an unpretentious piece of transport, mostly very frequent and very reliable and always full of people which shows it is a much needed transport route. It's the bastard John Snow while the #96 is one of those right born Starks who are good and all, but just not as interesting. 
And guess what you guys. As of this week, they are introducing E class trams to the #86! That's like giving Jon Snow a valerian steel sword! I'm writing this from the #86, and thought it's just an old D class this morning I know that next time, maybe next time it could be a E class. Hooray! Winter is coming!

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Get out

I have got to get out more. Last night I got a pocket call from Dad's phone clearly made by my mum but the phone obviously was not in her pocket because she left a voicemail in which I could extremely clearly hear both sides of a conversation between her and K's mum that they must have been having on Mum's phone.

I only listened for a few seconds of course. Obviously it was a mistake and although the conversation was only about them trying to arrange a meeting it did feel a little weird and pervy listening. There was something a little David Lynch about the experience. Like how could Mum accidentally call me when she must have been just sitting around at home and the offending phone clearly wasn't in a pocket? How do you even do a pocket dial from an iPhone that requires a passcode? And why could I clearly hear both sides of the conversation when I know my  mum wouldn't use speaker phone, I believe her hearing makes it unfavourable. Then whole thing is so mysterious I started writing a blog post about it this morning until I realised that it was also so boring. It may seem Lynchian to me but in truth i know it was just an accident. No dwarf conspiring to creep me out here. But life is pretty small when you have a tiny baby and I can't keep on writing about the US election. And I really didn't want to bore you with complaints of a back so sore it even hurts to sneeze.

And so I make this pledge to you, readers, I'm going to get out! See the world! Have something interesting to say! And I'm going to do it by Thursday! And then regularly! As long as my back gets better!

Monday, November 28, 2016

Bring it back

I wish it was still fun, fantastic Friday. That day was great. And I went to two funerals last week, so kind of urgently needed. Saturday and Sunday were pretty super too.
But it's Monday now. Monday. Often a tough day. But today it's going to be particularly tough for me. Mucho maudlin Monday, perhaps I'll call it. I seem to have come down with yet another Childcare transmitted bug and this one is a doozie. 💩🤒

Friday, November 25, 2016

Fun fantastic Friday

Although it is clearly taking K and me some time to get into the swing of our new single, daily post regime I'm feeling pretty positive about it. Excited even. There are a bunch of reasons why. For example, a change is as good as a holiday and I love holidays! The new format demands something slightly different and I think this new approach may be good for my brain. And  something I hadn't really identified until today, it is bringing back into our lives all the days, opening doors for new post concepts, probably based on alliteration and also allows the return of classic MSC favourites such as WTF Wednesday, Terrific Tuesday and Friday Favourites!

But let's talk about today. According to Baby, Fridays at school are referred to as fun, fantastic Friday. It's probably just one hour in the afternoon where they get to draw or something, but whatever this phrase means exactly, he's always excited about it. But why does he get to have all the fun. I love alliteration too! And Fridays! I'm totally going to have a fun fantastic Friday! Here's how:

I'm going to send Baby to school and Newbie to childcare which means I'll just be home with Whoopsee which means that I have a whole six hours in which I mainly get to do whatever I want. And considering that all I really want to do is lie around and cuddle my sleeping baby and play with her when she wakes up I think I'm totally going to tick every box on my to-do list tomorrow!

But it doesn't stop there! It wouldn't be a MSC day supreme if it didn't involve coffee so naturally I'm going to drink a bunch of that. I may even have a home brew with some porridge, raspberries and vanilla yoghurt in the morning and one in a cafe later. Go hard or go home I always say.

And just to nail the day I may even go check out a jumpsuit that K brought to my attention the other day and if it looks as cute as was hinted at when I drove past the shop window yesterday it really might put the fantastic into this Friday.

Let me tell you guys, if you are the mother of three children including a 7-week-old baby it really doesn't take much to turn a regular day into a fun fantastic one. It's kind of like being a one-pot screamer. Sure people may laugh at you because you are such an easy drunk but you'll have the last laugh cause you only have to spend five bucks at the pub. I'm just the activity equivalent of that. Sure you may think I'm a loser for doing nothing with my life, but who has the last laugh? I do! Because I all I have to do is have an extra coffee and lie around and I get to feel like I'm really nailing life. Yeah!

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Might as well jump

So I thought I would directly engage with the topic of jumpsuits canvassed yesterday.

Even though I only have one, I dig the jumpsuit.

I think their appeal is their simplicity. One garment, totally meeting your covering nakedness and style needs, serve it up, let's go. Some people like wearing layers but to be honest, I don't even like wearing separates. 

Figuring out how to pair all those tops and all those bottoms? It's a bit of a headache. That's why I like wearing dresses so much. One garment, everything you need, serve it up, let's go. But the jumpsuit is more fun than the dress.

Until it's time to go to the toilet, then it's more annoying than the dress.

But hell, we're here for a long time, not a good time as our friend Bibby used to say. The idea of eliminating all annoyance in clothing is an impossible dream.

So yeah, jumpsuits!

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

A vision for the (immediate) future

After my reveal on Monday that I had determined my look for summer K texted me to ask what my summer look would be. I had one word for her: jumpsuits!

I should probably have given her a few more words because if you think about it, jumpsuits isn't really a look for a whole season. Especially for a girl that only owns four jumpsuits and can only breastfeed in two of them. I'm committed to the look and currently have an expensive boob-accessible jumpsuit on layby but it's not really feasible to keep buying expensive jumpsuits. Or own them in summer if I keep laybying them. And yet I can't shake the feeling that this summer is meant to be all about the jumpsuit.  It's possibly a reaction to my recent pregnancy rendering me unable to wear jumpsuits for many months or to the fact that I don't fit into most of my jeans. Whatever the reason, I'm embracing jumpys. 

The thing about jumpsuits is that you have to embrace them, otherwise it's too easy to think they're too full on for day-to-day wear but forget that! There's nothing too full on for daily wear and certainly when you keep dropping hunjies on jumpeys you don't want them to go to waste in your wardrobe. But this leaves me in a position where I have to figure out how to supplement my jumpsuits on nonjumpsuit days. 

Oh sure I could just wear any old thing: shorts and a t-shirt; skirts and singlet; a dress. And we all know that in reality that's probably what will happen but that doesn't help me when I'm trying to construct a theory of my summer look. 

Reading over past blog posts about summer looks I feel like I had some solid summer directions: colour palletes, adjectives. I'm beginning to wonder if "jumpsuits!" isn't quite enough to define my key look for summer so I guess I should be grateful for this miserable weather buying me time to elaborate on my sartorial direction. You haven't heard the last of this friends!

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

March to the end of the year

Yesterdays shit hot weather made me think about last summer.
This time last year, Appleheart,  KB and I were on a plane on the way to London, where we remained (more or less) until February 2016. KB was four months old and we were all pretty raw from the experience of either having looked after a baby for four months or having been a baby for four months.
We were excited and daunted AF (as the kids like to say these days). I love London, and was pretty delighted to be going there. But being away from home with a new baby was going to be tough. And it was going to be cold. Cold AF (as the kids like to say). We were going to miss most of summer and though I was happy to be going away I was not happy to be missing summer. With the benefit of hindsight I can say boy was I right, missing summer is a bunch of bullshit. We made the most of the cold and had some truly excellent cold weather days. Several times taking long walks through London and then stopping off at cosy pubs to drink mulled wine and/or Guinness spring to mind. London is so good at cosy pubs. Walking along the coast in Lands End, in Cornwall, in very wild weather which looked a lot like the pace Dumbledore went to find a horcrux and shit got real for him. There were also the walks through snow in the Swedish countryside and the time it snowed overnight in Copenhagen then the sun came out and we went for a jog around the cemetery. I remember that because it was the only jog I did in three months and I nearly puked all over the fresh white snow.
Look, it was pretty fantastic, really.
And now I'm in a tight spot because the point of this post was to highlight that the lead up to the end of the year is always so mental, and last year I missed that, and so ended 2015 in a state of relative calm, which was the silver lining to missing out on summer.
But maybe I've just discovered that missing summer doesn't even need a silver lining. I missed something great but I had something great. It was just great.