Eeny meeny miny mo (PM)

Gosh. I feel a bit awkward about Trading Places, and my childhood. We said and did some bad things. I know our babe-mouths were innocent and therefore what came out of them can't be seen in the same light as what came out of Don Ameche's in Trading Places, but still.  I assume it was Don Ameche... though I guess it could have been the other old white guy. Or a totally different old white guy. Like J says, I've never seen it. 

God, how do I know Don Ameche's name? What a complete waste of space in my brain. I haven't even seen Cocoon, the other film he's known for playing an old white guy. 

Eeny meeny miny mo (AM)

Last night I watched some of Trading Places, a film I have seen many many times but probably not for about 15 or 20 years. I also learned on the weekend, to my great surprise, that K has never seen that movie. I didn't even know that was possible given the frequency with which it used to be on TV, but it turns out the world really is an amazing place and anything is possible!

Because K has never seen it I wouldn't want to reveal any spoilers but let me just say that movies made in the 80s are not like movies made today. For example, they have a person dressed up in a gorilla suit that is meant to be a gorilla and then later a man gets put into the gorilla suit and the "real" gorilla makes love to it and the two gorillas get shipped off to Africa without anyone questioning whether the man in the suit is actually a gorilla.

I suppose this terrible costume is a joke but I can't imagine anyone trying such a thing nowadays.

Another thing you wouldn't hear in a doofusy comedy these days is an old white guy calling Eddie Murphy a word that starts with 'n' and rhymes with igger. I was quite shocked to hear it actually, but if you think about the 80s that word was considered bad I suppose, but it was still in use. It must have been, what were the words to Eeny meeny miny mo when you were growing up? Pretty mind bending that the more polite way to nominate who was 'it' was by saying "Ip dip dog shit you are not it."

Every time Baby starts 'Eeny meeny miny mo' I hold my breath for a second, waiting for what comes next even though he always says "catch a tiger by the toe." Of course he has never heard the version we used as kids. Back then, I may have known what that igger word meant when heard in isolation but "Eeny meeny" was just a bunch of nonsense words as far as I was concerned. Still, pretty fucked up, and even though I was just an innocent little kid trying to identify someone to be 'it' in chasey, just repeating some little song I heard from someone else, I feel like a total perpetrator. I think I have to go and have a shower now, wash the shame away.

Wow, Trading Places really took me on a trip down memory lane in a way I did not foresee at all!

Here it comes (PM)

The cold weather sure is here. Even though it's sunny and beautiful outside right now there's a chill in the air. It's truly autumn at its finest right now, but it's only gonna get colder. Well first it's gonna get hotter with the BOM forecasting 29 degrees for next Wednesday, but in the grand scheme of things it's only gonna get colder. Yesterday I changed from the summer doona on my bed to my winter doona. Fancy! I'm like a goddamn Kennedy with my seasonal doonas. Getting into bed last night was a real joy, especially after eating lasagna and red wine for dinner and watching Netflix on my TV using my new Google Chromecast. Hells yeah, I know how to do cold weather right!

I am missing out on that Accuweather app but I plan on downloading that ASAP. I check the BOM website about five times a day. I think I'm overly dependent on it and probably expect too much of it. If I have some things to do at non-specified time during the week I look at BOM to see what's coming weather-wise to plan my week out. If I have actual plans I check BOM so I can start thinking about what I might wear to said plans. All normal enough I guess but sometimes I think about checking BOM for plans way too far into the future, like weeks or months ahead though I know they can't forecast that far accurately. Sometimes I have a split second thought that BOM may be able to forecast other things too, like who is going to be somewhere or what someone may be thinking about doing for there birthday, as if BOM is not a bureau of meteorology but rather a bureau of fortune telling . I would probably become similarly dependent on Accuweather, probably more so given its time- and location-specific predictions but whatever the future is now so I better have all the apps possible to help negotiate it. 

Here it comes (AM)

Have a look at this, would you?

That's what the temperature is here in Preston as I write  this, according to the Accuweather app. That is mother flipping cold. Hardly makes one enthusiastic about pulling the covers back and getting out of bed. 

But on the plus side, reading it makes me realise how much I like the Accuweather app. It's location specific and has nice graphics to reflect the time of day. It also sets out the forecast for the whole day, so you can plan effectively. 

I should have got up at 4am, if I wanted to avoid the chill. 

And I wonder what time I should take my lunch break? 

Well, 4pm really! But I think we all know that's not going to happen. 

We all know that it's going to get warm again soon too, and just because it's 9 degrees (feels like 6 degrees) now it doesn't mean the good times are over for the whole year. 

Still doesn't make getting out of bed any easier though, does it?

Ugh, here I go. 

What's coming my way this week (PM)

The 3:30am brain is not the best brain. But I think K is really lucky that at 3:30am her brain was saying things like, "Great idea!" and "A great week lies ahead!" Rather than "I want an Apple Watch. I want an Apple Watch so bad! How can I justify buying an Apple Watch! Apple Watch would make my life so much better!" Or "Shit I have so much stuff on this week. It is stressing me the fuck out. And I have nothing to blog about tomorrow!" Which is pretty much how my brain works at 3:30am if it is not going "Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz." Although I don't really understand the lure of Apple Watch. Yet. I'm pretty sure I'll be coveting the shit out of one once someone gets one and shoves its shiny face into my less shiny face.

It's lucky that my brain and K's brain weren't in discussion at 3:30 this morning because I would have tried pretty hard to dissuade her from this topic. Only because I have even less on my agenda for this week than K. And if you recall, she did not have a lot on. Outside my normal commitments (which are few) I pretty much have nothing on. But after several commitments last week, which was kind of stressing me out, I'm pretty happy about it.

Which leads me to the question what does several mean. LB and I were talking about this last night, talking about how context and personal opinion can alter how you interpret it, it might mean three, it might mean seven, and those numbers can mean very different things. According to Google it means "more than two but not many," so perhaps I should clarify my use of it in the paragraph above by saying that last week I had two commitments. Now we are all on the same page.

Have a great week!

What's coming my way this week (AM)

Last night, before I went to bed, I mulled over a few things I might write about today. The Apple Watch, which I think about and covet all the time, for no tangible reason. My rubbish wardrobe and how badly I want new everything. That was about it. As you can see, these topics are very very boring to everyone who is not me, and truth be told, they're pretty boring to me too. I decided I would wait until morning, and see what inspiration a new day would bring. I turned out the lights and went to bed.

Next thing I knew, it was about 3:30am and I was awake. This happens to me a lot. My body has some kind of setting that means I wake up four hours after I've gone to sleep, pretty much on the dot, pretty much every night. I usually lie awake for about 15 minutes then go straight back to sleep. It's not so bad. Sometimes, I start to worry that I won't get back to sleep and then I don't. Those nights are the worst. Last night, I was pretty relaxed and so started thinking about the week ahead and the things I've got planned and this made me feel quite good. It also made me think "I know! Tomorrow I'll blog about what's coming my way this week! It will make for interesting reading and it won't make me look too shallow because it won't just be about the Apple Watch. I will call the post "What's coming my way this week". I felt quite happy with this decision and so when I rolled over in bed, I promptly fell asleep.

Now it's morning and I realise that that decision was made with the logic that is available to people at 3:30am, which is to say, none. You see, I have practically nothing planned for this week. Tomorrow night I'm going to a council-run seminar called Navigating Childcare in Darebin. On Wednesday morning I'm having a session with a personal trainer at the gym, which you get free when you sign up and i've been too lazy to organise until now. That's it. That's all that's coming my way this week.
Decisions I make at 3:30am in the morning are clearly quite bad.

There's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (PM)

Wow. Those people that went to the leprechaun parade really scored! I hear that the quality of St Paddy's day parades is really variable. An Irish guy who used to work with us, let's call him O'Doyle, emailed me yesterday to say that the parade he went to had the local scout group, some kids on horses and a couple of tractors. It's a rural area you see and I guess people just want to get it out of the way so they can get on with breaking the lenten fast.

Having said that, when I went to the Royal Balmoral Show in Belfast last year I saw some pretty incredible tractors. This one had wheels that were taller than me.

Powerful stuff. I also had a deep fried black pudding that was pretty incredible, but not something I think I will be able to do again.

I guess I don't really give much of a hoot about St Patrick's Day, but I'm glad that the Irish, those in the North and the South, get a public holiday. I mean, we have one for a horse race. I guess a guy who drove the snakes away is a good cause for celebration.

There's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (AM)

Apparently it was St Patrick's Day on Tuesday. I don't really understand why people make a big deal of it, but apparently it's kind of a thing. It certainly must be in USA because every American celebrity I follow on Instagram wished me a happy St Patrick's Day. And I follow a bunch of weird celebrities including Drew Barrymore and Cindy Crawford. Who the fuck knows why?

I know that modern day Australia was basically founded on the blood and sweat of Irishmen and my own dad is well into his Irish roots, yet St Patrick's Day seems about as relevant to me as Halloween. That is, not at all.

To see if there was anything interesting I could talk about in relation to St Patrick's Day I did what I always do in these situations: look at Wikipedia. Reading the Wikipedia page it became obvious to me that I've considered writing about this personally meaningless day before, but clearly the meaningless has always won out. But the story of Patrick bringing Christianity to Ireland and using the shamrock to teach the people of the holy trinity all seemed familiar. This time reading through though I noticed this, "Christians also attend church services and the Lenten restrictions on eating and drinking alcohol are lifted for the day, which has encouraged and propagated the holiday's tradition of alcohol consumption." Of course it was interesting to learn that this is why so much beer is drunk on March 17th rather than because all Irish are alcoholics. Allegedly.

But I probably wouldn't be wasting your time and mine babbling about this day here if I hadn't scrolled down to the very bottom of the Wikipedia page and seen photos of celebrations around the world and in Ireland. And it was there in a photo of an Irish St Patrick's day parade that I saw photographic proof of leprechauns! I know I can barely believe it myself, but you can see for yourself below! Real leprechauns leading the parade.

So thanks world for celebrating St Patrick's Day, without you I never would have found this photo and learned that leprechauns are real and magic happens.

Cheese coma (PM)

I'm pretty out of it too. After all the cheese yesterday, I just had potato gems for dinner. Basically, a drunk person's dinner. Today, I feel very hazy. And I can't quite remember parts of yesterday. Like...did I really just stick to Mersey valley and smoked cheddar, or did I 'accidentally' eat some of that Brie as well? I'm a bit sketchy.

And I really feel like a coke. And I'm reeeeaallllyyy tired. 

Unrelated to the hangover, but definitely related to the cheese, I certainly look a lot more pregnant today than I did yesterday. But that's the way of Chutney.  

Cheese coma (AM)

Yesterday was chutney club, as Biz said, 'It's nice to be out and about.' Yeah, Biz, it is. Turns out that he was at Golden Plains last week so his idea of not getting out much and my idea of not getting out much may be slightly different.

For the curious the haul was: plum jam (me), fig and ginger jam (K), apricot jam (David), spicy nectarine and peach chutney (Pickle), mango chutney (Biggie Little), nectarine chutney (Legsly), apple and cherry plum chutney (Blizzie). A pretty good spread.

Chutney club is a funny old thing.Some meets every one has cooked something delicious to go with their condiment and then other times everyone just brings cheese. That is pretty much what happened yesterday. I wish I had taken photos of all the cheese. I feel like there was more cheese there than I had seen in a long time. But then again I don't get out much. But there really was so much cheese. And I sure ate a lot more cheese than I'd eaten in a long time. There were probably at least 10 or 12 cheeses. And I ate them all. Over and over again. And I ate a doughnut and half a croissant and this toffee chocolate crispy slice magnificence and in between the sweets more cheese to cleanse the palette. When I got home I wasn't that hungry so Baby and I shared a cheese pie for dinner. Later LB ate bolognese so I had a little pasta with parmesan and chilli flakes. Cheese.

As I sat on the couch last night exhausted and wondering what to write about for today I could really come up with nothing. I thought I was tired or that my brain had finally given up but in the cold harsh light of this morning I'm pretty sure I was just too high on cheese. Or perhaps the crash had begun. The reason it all came clear is because I think I have a cheese hangover. I feel ok, but as I was sitting on the couch with Newbie this morning he just seemed so out of sight cute. I mean, this kid is pretty effing adorable and he has this array of out of control cute smiles but this morning - whoa - I could not get over his cuteness. You know how that happens with a hangover, it's like all your defences are down. At breakfast Baby was doing these ridiculous burbs which also seemed incredibly cute and really funny. And to top all this off, I feel pretty irritable. Classic hangover, right? I'd like to think I have learned my lesson and that in future I will cheese responsibly, but I guess history suggests that is pretty unlikely.

Downer Thursday (PM)

Someone asked me recently if being pregnant was shit and I had to tell them, "Yeah, kinda." People don't like to complain about it much, I think because it seems careless given some people can't even get pregnant and because you have a baby inside you which is great. But there is always something, tiredness, nausea, headaches, growing out of your clothes, looking like you've put on weight before looking actually pregnant. And that's just the normal stuff, some people have it real bad, can't walk, get bed ridden, have serious complications or unhealthy babies. Shit can get real. So I guess that's the other reason people don't like to complain about it, cause you feel lucky you've got it comparatively good. But the fact is that compared to normal life pregnancy is kind of shit. That's how I found it anyway. I understand others may not feel the same.

I guess it's a lot to ask your body to perform as well as usual while also creating an entire new human from a few tiny cells. It makes sense but that doesn't mean you have to like it. Though honestly K's hair is looking great right now!

But me, I'm all about turning frowns upside down. You see I've been sick the last few days and finally am feeling kind of normal again, so this Thursday is pretty good for me. And I think everyone should feel this good. I could tell K just to focus on the end result, a baby is coming, take solace. But eff that! Mate, take the Panadol! It's a totally sanctioned drug! You'll feel better and it's not like you are going to be popping it all day everyday, just get rid of that effing headache.

Downer Thursday (AM)

This post is going to be a bit of a downer I'm afraid. It's because I've had a headache for several days and it's not budging and that, as I'm sure you're all aware, is a real downer. 

The doctor says it's hormones. And posture. And that it's only going to get worse, on account of me having a case of the pregnants. That news was a real downer. On the plus side, apparently I can take panadol. That's super. But I guess I had better save that up for when it gets really bad, as I'm promised it will. 

Sigh.

People say that when you have a case of the pregnants your skin gets all glowy.

My experience to date indicates that is a falsehood. My skin looks very red and blotchy and my face is super itchy. It's a pretty big downer. 

On the plus side, my hair does seem to look a bit better than usual. That is a major, major plus. And is hopefully distracting people from my blotchy red face. 

Sorry about all the negativity you guys. It's just this headache is really zapping me. On a final positive note, I heard a magpie singing before and I think we can all agree that that's a lovely sound. 

This is not a post about how old I am (PM)

Oh geez, my mind is a bit blown from reading this morning's post and its talk of time and age and Vogue. I guess it's because I've got so many feelings at the moment. Feelings coming out the wazoo. So thinking about time, and experiencing it, and how it changes, and how what we want changes, and how we can't know what we will think and feel in the future, so don't know how to make the most of things now that don't seem super rad but our future selves will long for. Well. Cue a shed load of feelings. 

I remember being Baby's age (give or take) and feeling not just like years would take forever, but that afternoons would take forever. I love remembering that feeling. 

Having said that, I kind of feel like this afternoon is taking forever and that feeling blows, so maybe I should stop being such a sentimental fool. 

This is not a post about how old I am (AM)

I sometimes find myself asking rhetorical questions about the space-time continuum, because you know, space is fixed and time is just an abstract, man-made concept so the combination could be pretty chaotic. But I try not to think about it too much. Individually you'd think that there aren't a lot of questions. Space is space, time is time, let's call the whole thing off!

A few weeks ago I was at the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibition at the NGV, it was beautifully presented and full of wonderful things. It was also full of people and lots of school groups.I  I looked at this photo:

And moved on. And then I heard a girl of about 14 say, "It's from Vogue 1993." I didn't really think anything of it for a second, just wondered why she'd make that comment. And then it occurred to me that the photo would have been taken nearly ten years before that girl was born. It was basically the same as me standing in a gallery in 1993 looking at a photo from Vogue 1971.

But 1971 seems like some other place altogether. And I am sure that in 1993 if I'd seen a picture from 1971 Vogue I would have imagined that time as being very different. Glamourous, exciting, long ago. But I guess half of that has to do with Vogue. So I wondered, was that girl imagining 1993 as a significantly different time? A historic time? Back then there was no internet or smart phones. In fact there were only brick mobile phones, and they were only for rich people. River Phoenix was even alive for most of it. But that 14-year-old girl probably doesn't even know who that is. I mean, doesn't that blow your mind?! That 1993 can seem as historic as 1971! Personally I find something kind of disturbing about it all. I know I'm 20 years older than people in their mid-teens but then I think about what that means in the grand scheme of things it's mind blowing.

How about the fact that when you are a kid time drags.  I would put any money on this year feeling to Baby like it goes on forever, but for me I have no doubt it will pass in the blink of an eye. Perspective, I guess they call it. Miguel and I were talking recently about how that is, that a week or month or year for a kid takes for ever and for an adult it just feels like time actually flies by. He suggested it may be that a kid is learning things all the time, every day something happens that is a big deal, so each day is more significant, creating a sense of size for each day, making it longer. It is an idea I like a lot but I think it has more to do with what we want. When you are a kid you want to be old enough to do all the cool shit and it seems so far away. You're just waiting for that time to come when you are the boss, so of course time drags. But as an adult you just want to hang on to youth and health and beauty and all that good shit that you realise is fleeting, the perspective is exactly opposite of a child's, so little wonder the sense of time is. Still weird though. But I guess if anything is going to blow your mind, it is going to be an abstract man-made concept.  

Annual autumn appreciation (PM)

Mastitis sounds like the pits. Sore boobs are bad enough, but feeling sick on top of it is salt in the wound. But autumn is very very lovely and that's a fact from the first of March to...the last day of autumn. What, is that the end of May? Something like that. 

Things I would like to praise about autumn are the fact that the market is full of figs and they are very cheap and very figgy, and the basil plants are getting to that point where they are hanging to be turned into pesto. That's autumn. 

I'm really digging the little green figs this year. 

I also like my doona and snuggling under it and and soon I will probably like wearing a new nightie. 

Annual autumn appreciation (AM)

Let's just get this out of the way, it's the second day of autumn and even though March is usually pretty much a continuation of summer, I think I should just celebrate autumn's arrival now so we can all move on. The moderate summer means I've been able to wear jeans and sweaters often enough over the last few months, so naturally I'm not gagging for the cool weather to set in, but last night I did feel like autumn's arrival was pretty timely; let me tell you why.

Last night I felt like shit, basically because I could feel mastitis coming on. If you haven't had that bitch of an illness you are lucky because it basically makes you feel like you have the flu plus a really sore boob. Really effing sore. And I have never even had it badly. A friend of mine was hospitalised with it! Me I just feel shit for a day or two. So there I was last night, one boob killing me, aching body, sore throat, shivers and the decision to go to bed early. But something about the cool night air and the fact that I recently bought a new nightie (what? No, it's great, man-style. I know that sounds dumb, but I love it!) that I was looking forward to wearing made going to bed early seem like an excellent lifestyle choice.

And it was, naturally, because I effing love bed as much as I love autumn! Bed takes on a whole new dimension in the cooler months. Doonas make sense again. The restorative powers of sleep are more restorative because you don't have sunshine working its magic on you during the day. It's a really special place. And I thank the arrival of autumn for helping me remember some of the finest things life has to offer. 

This post not make any sense? Sorry my boob is effing killing me.