Still looking ahead

I have so many questions about yesterday's post, like does K swim at the Northcote pool or use the gym there? If gym-users are there at 6am maybe they are some of those smug fucks troubling her so much? Still, Jane's friends sure seem like some smug swimmers. Jerks. But if K is swimming how do we know she's not a smug jerk? Yikes!

I love a warm morning, yeah I do but I'm looking forward to the turn of weather, mind you I don't plan to hang out at the gym at 6am. I recently reread The Shipping News. I loved that book the first time and I loved it the second time too. The blurb told me I'd get swept up in an "exhilarating Atlantic drama." I didn't really remember it like that and that's because it's not really like that. It's more about the vibe of it. Technically lots of dramatic things happen but the really the greatness, for me, is in the conjuring of this stormy, tiny seaside time and it's inhabitants. Anyway, there is this scene in the book where a girl is described as walking into a room wearing a sweater and when I read that line I just, "Oh that lucky thing! A sweater! I can't wait to wear a sweater!" And you can bet to heck I'm wearing one right now. Although I know I'll just have to take it off in a couple of hours when the sun comes out. But that's ok. I'm not a fool. I know that in 6 months I'll hate every sweater I own and be longing to expose some skin and bid adieu to the rain-induced super frizzy hair of winter. It's like Spandau Ballet said, I know this much is true. But for now I'm just digging on a little chill.

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.

Harry Potter™ (AM)

I wonder if a time will ever come when I stop writing about Harry Potter. Seems pretty unlikely if I'm being honest. Right now I'm rereading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

What with Baby constantly listening  to Stephen Fry reading Harry Potter and the Philisopher's Stone and asking questions about Harry's future it was inevitable I reread it sometime. When I first read Deathly Hallows I was pretty blown away with how good it was. I love the Harry Potter books, FYI and in case you hadn't noticed, but that last book was just something else. In fact I'd go so far as to say it is near perfect in terms of a series-ending book. The perfect amount of laughter and tears, twists and turns. An intricacy of detail that pulls together pretty perfectly. The answers to questions without excessive exposition. Ending a series has surely got to be the hardest thing to do. You have this invested audience that wants a happy ending but a realistic one, an ending that fits the preceding episodes. When I read Deathly Hallows I felt JK really nailed the shit out of it. And rereading it, I have to say I was right the first time. This book effing rules. In fact it's probably even better because knowing what happens gives new depth to what you're reading. 

Anyway here I am deep in Harry Potter™ world when I was looking at instagram last night and saw Mindy Kaling was at the opening of Harry Potter™World at Universal Studios. My first thought was that I should get on a plane to LA. It would be great to visit Mondonna. And then Harry Potter™ World. Apparently you can buy butterbeer there. I've always imagined it tasted like a wonderful mix of butter menthols and beer but with a warming quality, like when you add a little ginger wine to your beer. And I read on the Universal  website that Harry Potter™ World lets you "Explore the mysteries of Hogwarts™ castle, visit the shops of Hogsmeade™ and sample fare from some of the wizarding world’s best-known establishments. Plus experience pulse-pounding rides and attractions that transport you into a world of magical thrills and excitement." Sounds pretty good right? Though when I thought about "experiencing the fare of the wizarding worlds best known establishments," I thought of all the food I'd ever eaten at theme parks and realised I wouldn't be getting no gourmet meal prepared by house elves and it started to cast a pall on the whole idea of Harry Potter™ World. But only just. I still want to go. And I'm dreading finishing deathly Hallows because then what? Universal Studios here I come I guess. 

Chose your own hunkventure (AM)

I don't know if it was all that Monday morning musing about Leonardo or if there's something in the air or if I'm just embracing a long forgotten favourite subject, but I've been thinking about hunks a lot this week. When I thought about today's post I thought maybe I should pick a different subject and then I thought, hunks are one of the great foundations of Miss Soft Crab, one part of the holy trinity that govern us, completed by food and clothes. I decided that to deny us all another hunks post was to deny the birthright of this blog, deny my true self. And it's like Hamlet says, to thine own self be true.* Am I right?!

I'm reading a book at the moment with a character that, as soon as he emerged, the instant I read his description, I imagined Chris Hemsworth. And the description is about as undescriptive as a description could be. Just a couple of lines to give you an idea of a guy and that was all I needed to get to Hemsworth (destination = reached). 

Reading this book is totally enjoyable because it is by a great writer and because imaging Chris Hemsworth all the time is great! I never imagine hunks when I'm reading a book. Books aren't usually about hunks, at best there may be a guy with some hunk like qualities. And to be honest when I imagine book characters they're often slightly blurred. But not this Hemsworth-type, he is crystal clear. 

I've so enjoyed this experience I texted K yesterday to ask if she'd read the book and when she answered yes I asked her if she'd imagined this character as Hemsworth. She told me no, she's old fashioned, she'd pictured Viggo, but she liked where I'd gone with it. 

K's brain made a great choice casting Viggo but it really got me thinking about all this dismay about hunks I've been feeling. 

I mean isn't it heartening that instead of going with a classic hunk, one very close to my heart, I went with a more contemporary hunk, a new classic if you will. Oh sure, maybe it was my lazy brain just using the zeitgeist to do all the work for it, but I like to think it's something more than that. I'd like to think that perhaps the future is not as bleak as we supposed on the hunk front. Yes, I may be more discerning now (what's the good of aging if you don't become discerning?) but that's only a good thing. Maybe the steady stream of hunks of yesteryear was more about my youthful exuberance than real supply, but I'm heartened to discover that a hunk of today can be at the forefront of my mind and it really gives me hope!  

*Just jokes, I know Polonius says that. Go watch Clueless. 

The summer list (PM)

Yeah! Who doesn't love a summer list?! I know I do! Because: a) it gives me pause to reflect about things, which I don't do much; and b) it gives me some hot tips about things I should be doing.

So what have I been doing this summer? Mmmmm...

Making: Icy poles. Or as the Americans call them, popsicles. I love to make ice-cream, but who has the time!? I also love to eat it. You know who else loves to? My kids. They're freakin' coo-coo for the stuff. They love it out of a bowl, they love it on a stick. And who am I to stop them from enjoying one of life's greatest gifts. But you know, I don't want them or me to get fat or unhealthy so I basically blend up some fruit (berries! bananas! mango!) with something creamy (yoghurt! coconut milk!) and freeze it in a popsicle tray. Da bomb!

Cooking: I don't know. Not vegetti, that's for sure. I can't say I'm in a great cooking zone but I guess on the best days whatever I'm cooking includes coconut milk. Soup! Curry! Rice! Just add coconut milk. I flipping love that stuff.

Reading: I'm pretty busy during the day and tired at night so I don't read as much as I'd like to but at the moment I'm reading and really enjoying A Spool of Blue Thread by Anne Tyler. You know one night I was lying in bed thinking "I wish I could read The Accidental Tourist for the first time. I really feel like reading that." And you know Anne Tyler wrote that. And the next day I walked into the bookshop and the first book I saw was A Spool of Blue Thread and it seemed like a total sign.

Listening to: Not much, mainly if there is silence I like to enjoy it not fill it.

Thinking: About all the boring things on my to-do list that have been there for months and don't seem to be going anywhere.

Wanting: A personal assistant to complete my to-do list.

Enjoying: Not travelling to my office job in Clayton. But more specifically today the Oscars coverage on my Instagram feed.

Needing: A cleaner to complement my imaginary personal assistant.

Feeling: Fine, thanks for asking.

Bret Easton Ellis, I love you (AM)

I really was not made for these internet days. I remember in the early days of internet, living with Miguel and David, Miguel had internet in his room. I’d use it sometimes to write an email, maybe look up a thing or two, but I couldn’t spend long hours in front of the computers like my housemates. They are still much better than me at the internet. I know this because they send me links to things I would never have the patience to find. As in, I would never have the patience to roam the 'net for hours on end through one obscure site to the next just to find some hilarious or gross thing.

I have websites I look at regularly but I rarely add to these. I may wander around the 'net for a while if I have purpose but I just don’t have the time or patience to spend a long time looking for potential  best new things. So too with podcasts. I have a few in my rotation but I’m more likely to drop ones I tire of than pick up new ones. But lately my regulars haven’t been giving me what I want, what I need. What do I need? You know what I want right now from my podcast? I want to listen for a good length of time to something enjoyable and immersive, fairly lighthearted but intelligent. But also that won’t punish me if I drift away from it for a couple of minutes. You know what I mean. That! That is what I’ve been wanting. Sure I’ve tried other podcasts outside my regular roster but it’s hard to really connect with one.

When I learned Bret Easton Ellis did podcasts a year or two ago of course I jumped at the chance to listen to it. I love his writing. His earlier books especially are among my all-time favourites and I often lament the fact that I had to miss seeing him speak a few years ago because I was bed-bound with a cold, so his podcast seemed like really a new best thing.  Back then I listened to an episode in which he interviewed BJ Novak. And by "interviewed" I mean he talked for an hour during which BJ Novak was occasionally given the opportunity to interject, answering a question ostensibly directed at him, but evidently posed so that Ellis could offer up his own thoughts on the matter.

This did not make the podcast unenjoyable. To the contrary, the ridiculous self importance of BEE was highly entertaining but I felt at the time like it didn't fit in to my podcast regime. A regime which was largely dedicated to podcast hosts with a much more understated sense of self-importance. 

Yesterday, though, I just knew it was time to really shake things up and that I needed to listen to a totally different kind of thing. No Fresh Air. No This American Life. I remembered The Bret Easton Ellis Podcast and I decided to give it a go and within minute I knew I'd made the right choice. 

I chose to listen to an interview with Judd Nelson which opened with about a 20-minute monologue by BEE, waxing lyrical about what actors are like, about how they play a part all the time, about the difference between them and the other public performance professions. About how they always want to please, always hide something. Nothing he was saying was in the least revelatory, but the guy really has a way with words and although, or because, he really seems like a douche bag it was highly enjoyable listening. It really suited my mood perfectly. It made me remember what it was like to read some of his beautifully crafted sentences for the first time. It made me remember, Bret Easton Ellis, I love you. 

But words are not a man. Of course I don't love him. I hate him. I find him equal parts wonderful and repulsive. Which is of course a balance for the ages. But I certainly enjoyed him. And if you have a passion for the 80s and the movies of the time, listening to Bret Easton Ellis talk to Judd Nelson about The Breakfast Club and St Elmo's Fire was always going to be a joy. Listening to BEE recount the way Emilio Estevez and other hot young things were perceived and presented in the media of the time is a great insight into the pop culture of a time I was too young to be aware of. I really felt like I gained an insight into a time and place listening to that episode. And I love that. It is basically my main thrill in intellectual life. 

Guys, I think BEE has found his way onto my podcast roster.

Safari magic (AM)

When I was little my mum had these two eyeshadows. They were in little clay pots the shape of a Winnie the Poo honey pot and inside were the most shimmery metallic eyeshadows I'd ever seen. One blue and one green. On the one hand I knew they were just my mum's eyeshadow and on the other hand they seemed so magical. Like so magical I felt it in my chest. So even though I knew they were my mum's eyeshadow I kind I felt like they had a secret life as magical fairy dust and playing with them would take me away to a special place. Being a kid is awesome in that respect, you know the difference between reality and fantasy but you can feel that fantasy world, feel that maybe somewhere it does exist. I guess that's what being religious is like.

As you know my mind gets blown all the time but I can't get that magic feeling back and I guess because of that it is hard for me to know what seems magic or mind-blowing to kids. It was Baby's birthday on the weekend and I found this book, a totally mind-blowing book. Now I'm not saying it made me believe in  magic but I loved it so much I couldn't stop swearing in amazement at the shopgirl. In the toy shop. I felt like maybe if I'd seen it as a kid I would have got that special feeling. This is it:*

We also gave Baby a remote control car and little toy skeletons so I guess he was distracted. But...um...did you notice that the book looks like a TELEVISION IN A BOOK! Or like a book from Harry Potter. Ok so Baby is not versed in the world of HP but he is well versed in the real world of books and television and how never the twain shall meet! And yet he just wanted to play with his $2 shop skeletons. Well who am I to judge. I loved to play with magic eyeshadow. 

I guess I jut want it on the record that of I was my own mother I would be a kickass present giver!**

*Sorry about the crappy video. It's been a rough weekend. Also it seems I can't see it on my iPhone so check out someone else's video here on YouTube if you want your mind BENT.

**Not that there is anything wrong with my mother's present-giving skills. She buys me excellent presents once I've told her what to get. 

Message in a book (AM)

I give books as presents quite often. And pretty much always to kids. Because kids have so much shit already. And books really are the gift that keep on giving, especially for little kids who like to read books over and over and over. Oh sure, at the time of gift giving/receipt books are the gift that a kid couldn't give a shit about because there are all the shiny gifts they've just received to play with, but trust me books really are keepers.

You know who else like to give books to kids? Really old people like great aunts and great grandmothers. I sure never had any great grandparents. There were a couple of great aunts around, one on my mum's side who, according to family legend*, used to make her husband eat dinner outside and another on my dad's side who, according to family legend*, once gave my dad a ball of silver foil as some kind of cruel joke of a present. So you can bet I never got presents from those crazy old ladies. I'm not complaining, I didn't need presents, I'm just saying that's not how I know what old ladies give there great grand kids/nieces, I know because the books they give end up in op shops. And then they end up at my house. 

For some time now a great favourite if Baby's has been a Walt Disney Peter Pan book and every time I open it I read the inscription.

Great great (!) aunt Cassie bought the book for Leigh inscribed it and then later realised she spelled the name wrong. Shit. Shit. That is always what I thought happened but now as I write this and look at the inscription I realise that isn't what happened at all. Leigh must have corrected it later. Whatever happened I can't help but feel a bit sad. Like G.G. Aunt Cassie was invited to the birthday party of some barely known great niece or nephew and thought she did everything right but she spelled the name wrong and some years later the book ended up in the op shop. It's a pretty boring book and there are a million books I'd rather be reading to Baby so I understand why it ended up in the op shop, but that doesn't make me feel better for Aunt Cassie, it makes me feel worse.

Recently Baby has gotten interested in an abridged version of The Magic Pudding. 

At least Lachlan may have hung on to this copy for a little longer. A lot longer. But look at this inscription. Under the sign off and date does that say "(Nan Giles**, your great grandmother)"? First she is calling him "Lachlan darling" and next she has to explain who she is, as if the sign off isn't enough. 

It's all too much to bare. Or am I just feeling sensitive because I just watched Dr Drew's sex addiction rehab show? Either way, alls I know is that I am never inscribing a book again!

*The legends went something like that, forgive me keepers of the legends if the details are not entirely accurate.
**I actually have no idea if that says Giles, old lady hand writing is hard to decipher, even though this is similar to my own nana's handwriting which I could always read fine. But I did know who she was so that would have helped. 

Possum Magic (PM)

You gonna force feed the pill to possums, people?!? This is clearly a plan made by men. By people who have never taken a pill that didn't sit well with them, made them fat or crazy or depressed or pimply. Leave the possums alone, a-holes. I am so not surprised they are already trialling this in Curtain Square, the most uptight square in Melbourne. The place people complain about you having a dog off the lead and having fun. A-holes.

Plus, I don't know if these men know that possums can actually make themselves invisible. As long as they have a magic grandma. And unless you feed them the correct combination they will stay invisible. So, stick that in your pipe and smoke it. How you gonna get the pill in the possums if you can't see them?! HA! In the book Possum Magic the magic possum grandma makes her granddaughter invisible to hide from snakes, but I guess this could be read as a parable about the one child policy.

Who's with me?! (PM)

J is talking loco and I like it.
There's few things I like more than a cockamamy plan. And few things I think more regularly than "gee, I really should exercise more".
So lets put the two together and see if we can't add a little muscle tone to these Crabby arms.
Perhaps for the duration of these trials we can write a weekly post about our experiences. And perhaps we should take photos of ourselves putting our arms in the air like John and Jane and Mr and Ms Superfirm.

Also, if I can find a way to integrate a leotard in to this without looking like a total moron, I'm doing it.

Who's with me?! (AM)

Recently I was cleaning my bathroom. Really, properly cleaning it; in the way that meant I moved the scales so I could mop under them. Of course a super clean bathroom is one of life's joys, but deciding to weigh oneself after many, many months just because you are holding some scales is, so often, not. Yeah, those scales told me straight out what my jeans had been whispering to me for some time. Now that I am off the world's easiest and bestest all-you-can-eat breastfeeding diet it's like I've got to start putting in some kind of effort. Lucky for me AND all of you, I think I have just the thing. These three books that made there way in or back into my life at the start of last summer.



Sure, late last year when I rediscovered them I had the best of intentions, but what with all the breastfeeding as if I was going to waste my time with watching what I ate and exercises. I'm not a sucker. So now the time has come. The plan is this. For one month each I am going to follow an exercises gleaned from each of these books. At the start of each month I will tell you about the book and the exercise routine and I will follow it for a month and, although I have not so much as uttered a word about this to K before writing these here words, I fully expect K to follow the routine too. Then we will decide which is the bestest! Who's with me?!

I think we should start with Jane. Now don't freak out, friends, this great new exercises routine isn't starting today. No, let's give it a couple of weeks so we can all get psyched! Now, as Jane Fonda is a woman and a feminist I think her routine will be the most beginner friendly. Plus, look at what a great time she is having!

Perhaps after Jane we will move to Travolta. His book "is designed to provide a six-day-a-week workout program"! Shit. Well, let's hope Jane gives us the goods to move onto that.

Then we will finish with Super Firm. That book has a subheading. 'Tough Workouts'! Eeek! This book contains such sections as 'Working harder', 'Advanced shaping and toning' and 'Plyometrics'! Until I looked on Wikipedia last night I didn't even know what that was. In fact, Wikipedia barely made me any wiser but Super Firm tells me that the section is about training to build power, muscle elasticity and recoil, and includes bounding and jumping routines for powerful legs! I didn't even know I needed better muscle recoil!

I CAN'T WAIT TO GET SUPER BUFF!!!! WHO'S WITH ME?!

What's wrong with this picture? (PM)

I like the bit where she (and I am confidently assuming the seller is a she) underlined the word trilogy, because obviously western literature has a great tradition of trilogies and as part of that tradition, it makes sense that we would drop twenty clams on her used books.

I can understand why someone would read 50 Shades of Grey because their friend lends it to them, and they figure they might as well see what all the fuss is about.
But reading all three? And thinking well enough of them that you can only sell them as a unit?
What kind of a sick fuck would do that?

I just don't know what to do with myself (AM)

So, now that it is February and the festive season is over, this weekend was the first one in ages where I had nothing really to do. Frankly I couldn't even remember what to do with free days.

Saturday was kind of a bust. We went to the market and bought a few things and then came home and cleaned. It was fine. You know. And now the house is pretty clean and my washing basket is pretty much empty, so that's good. And K came over on Saturday night we ate a delicious meal which I wish I photographed for you guys. Oh well .

Anyway, this quiet Saturday meant that on Sunday we really had to do something.  But seriously, what do you do on the weekend?

We didn't know, so we got in the car and drove around aimlessly for a while. It was kind of nice, you know, we took the scenic route. Eventually we parked and then we walked around aimlessly for a while. But that couldn't last for ever.

The day actually worked out pretty well. One thing I did was buy this awesome book called Otto the Book Bear. This book is so friggin' cute.

It's about a bear called Otto and he is a bear in a book, but he can get out of the book and he likes to do that and explore the house he lives in. But one day he gets stuck outside his book and he has to fend for himself. It's kind of like The Purple Rose of Cairo but with a book and bear instead of Jeff Daniels and a movie.

I freaking love this book! Otto is so cute. He's just this little bear. A really little bear.

See.

Then, we went to see The Muppets. Now I don't know if there is something going on with my hormones but I found this movie kind of adorable too. Kermit, I really felt these feelings for him I'd never felt before.

Not like that! Geez guys! Get your mind out of the gutter (that's what the John Krasinski cameo was for). I just found Kermit really adorable. The whole thing was pretty cute. Plus there were some songs by Brett McKenzie. And, you know, muppets! And did I mention the Krasinski cameo?

Ok. So it was a pretty good day. But, um, what the eff am I going to do next Sunday?

What's in my bag? (AM)

Do you guys read The Hairpin? I hope you do, because it's very enjoyable. Recently they have been doing this amusing thing where they get their contributors to do a spread on what's in their handbags, like those lady mags do with celebrities, only instead of having $500 face creams like the celebrities do, they have things like band aids and bobby pins. Anyway, blah blah blah blah blah, do you guys want to know what's in my handbag right now? Ok, ok, I'll tell you.


All the things in my handbag!

 Lets go through them one by one, shall we?
1. The Sense of an Ending by Julian Barnes. Obviously this is the book I'm reading it at the moment, not a book a keep in my bag at all times. I'm enjoying it. Who read Love Etc.? I really liked that book.
2. My iPhone. I need to get a new cover for it. It looks like it has a skin condition.
3. Nars lip gloss in the shade Turkish Delight. I basically bought this because I love rose flavoured turkish delight and all things that are rose flavoured. This gloss is not rose flavoured, and buying it was a mistake.
4. My wallet. It's breaking and I have asked santa to bring me a new one.
5. My keys. Just like yours, probably.
6. My 2012 diary, the one I was waiting for the other day. I love it very much and I like how it has a jumper.
7. My Beats by Dr Dre headphones which I bought as a present to myself when I paid off my HECS. I love those guys so much. I am wearing them right now as a matter of fact.
8. The key to my filing cabinet.
9. A mirror J bought for me ages ago.
10. A handful of pistachio shells. What can I say guys. I guess I ate some pistachios and shoved the shells in my bag one time.
11. My umbrella. No getting caught in the rain for me, readers.
12. My sunglasses.
13. Some tissues I took from a hotel room in Beechworth.
14. Musk lifesavers. I effing love these little bad boys and am in a phase of my life where I want to have the taste of musk in my mouth all the time. If you haven't had one in a while I urge you to try one.
15. Work phone.
16. Reading glasses.
17. Assorted lispticks, specifically: Heat Wave (Nars); Jungle Red (Nars); Lovelorn (MAC); Amplified Girl (MAC); See Sheer (MAC); Insolente (Chanel). For those of you who are wondering, Heat Wave is my favourite, but today I am wearing a blend of See Sheer and Insolente. 
18. Bag change. I like to keep a little change in my bag. It's very useful for those times when you don't quite have enough money in your wallet to buy a coffee. Or when you need to feed a parking meter, or buy yourself some musk lifesavers. Bag change!
19. That's my security pass to get in to work, but you can't really see it and plus, who gives a shit.

Now that I see all the things in my bag, I realise that this is actually quite boring. Sorry guys. Hopefully J has some better stuff in her bag.

The Slap

So are people watching The Slap, the TV event of the year?
I just can't get interested in it. I thought the book kind of sucked. People always bang on about how great it is; the interesting propositions it raises and the well rendered characters who are just like people we all know.  I actually felt like I was watching Neighbours or something similar when I was reading the book. You know, its full of drama and the characters face dilemma after dilemma but I don't really care about any of it, and I feel like I'm on the verge of laughing at it the whole way through. And I'm just waiting for them all to go to the diner,  and for Harold to do something doddery and old fashioned which makes them all roll their eyes and laugh and realise that they'll always be friends and then have a lovely milkshake.

So why am I so drawn to that picture of Melissa George holding a child and looking distressed that you can see on the side of the 112 tram at the moment? And why did I find myself watching episode 1 on iview on the weekend, even though my internet connection at home is really slow and the video kept stopping for 5 seconds every minute or so? Why?

Of course I disliked it in all the same ways I disliked the book, but with some extra reasons because TV is a different medium with different ways of annoying me.

Um, did you guys hear that voice over? Yikes.

Like the wearing of a v neck t-shirt if you are a man, a voice over is a difficult thing to pull off.  A show has to be pretty special to be able to get away it.
Like this one.

The Slap, I am pretty sure you are not Arrested Development. Your voice over is patronising, and sounds like an add for paracetamol. It makes me think "Hey d-bags, don't tell me what to think! You're not the boss of me!" instead of "Oh yes, voice over, please tell me more!". It's unlikely that it will get better from here, right? I should just forget all about it and not watch any more, right? 

My dad is funny too

HAHAHA! A pig called Maurice! Nice one, Big K.

You know readers my dad and K's dad, Big K, are pretty opposite. My dad is lean, a man of words and numbers. Though he does enjoy watching the footy sometimes and giving me a hard time because Collingwood are now better than Geelong. He also enjoys beer. But in many (most) ways our dads are pretty different. They are friends though. (It's true. Our parents go on double dates.)

Anyway my dad totally exemplified himself this weekend too.

On Saturday I mentioned to Mum that I had tried to buy the book Freedom but I guess everyone in Melbourne had the same idea because I could not find it (in the one bookshop I tried). On Sunday Mum and Dad went to see Jonathan Franzen talk and afterwards got a copy of Freedom signed for me. (Isn't that nice?)

I don't know if you guys know much about Franzen but he is very charming and affable.

Apparently during his talk on Sunday he had misquoted Goering, saying "When I hear the word culture I reach for my revolver." But apparently the quote is "...I reach for my Browning." This is much cleverer and funnier of course because Browning is not only the name of a gun but also a poet. My dad knows all the quotes, you see. He knows all the stuff. So while getting the book signed Dad took the opportunity to tell Jonathan Franzen of the proper quote. Oh my God, Dad. He's Jonathan Franzen. Let him say what he wants! (But because he is so charming and affable Franzen was a total mensch about it.)

Pride and Prejudice: You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you

Mate, you've said it all.
That book is a dead set Friday Favourite. My copy aint as pretty as yours, but it is definitely full of the same awesomeness, obviously because it is the same book, i.e. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Like everyone who has ever read it, at first I hated Mr Darcy's guts until I realised that he was actually the best guy ever and Mr Wickham is the true knob jockey. Now I love Darcy very much, especially when he is also Colin Firth.

Apparently Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle (the lady who played Lizzie in the 1995 BBC version) were doing it in real life when they were making that series. Hot.

Three cheers for Pride and Prejudice!

Friday Favourites - Pride and Prejudice

The other day I was perusing a book shelf of my folks and found this adorable version of Pride and Prejudice.


I have read this book a bunch of times and in fact even read this very copy of it before. But I saw it on the shelf and thought, isn’t that a lovely edition, I want to read it. Then I thought, come on, you’ve read that book a bunch of times. But a few days later I couldn’t resist and started reading it. I mean, look at it ! About the size of my hand, cloth bound AND an awesome book!

You guys, it is totally a Friday Favourite! I love this book so much. It is so rich. And full of tension and excitement. Even though I knew exactly what was going to happen I still was so swept up in it and felt the bloom of love and all the attendant disappointments. Seriously, I couldn’t stop smiling when Elizabeth and Darcy got together. But it’s not just that, there is so much depth to the world created in it. I really dug on imagining Bingley and Darcy sitting around talking about how in love with the Bennet girls they were. There is so much in it that it creates this really full world that you can think about and imagine.

Of course I can not read it without thinking of this Darcy.


What an excellent Darcy. I love that guy!

I guess what I am trying to say is that I love the shit out of this book. And I am really happy I read it again.

Although it is not as wonderful of the book, just in case people feel like a little Friday distraction, perhaps you would like to watch a clip from the BBC series. This one shows Darcy to advantage. (A gentleman and his dogs).

Oh, is the movie The Devil Wears Prada no good?

Reading The Devil Wears Prada was worse than reading The da Vinci Code. Why I did either of these things, I do not know. I guess I was in a really weird place back then. When I think of the book The Devil Wears Prada my face unconsciously contorts into something I assume is very unattractive. What I am trying to say is I hate that fucking book so much I would only watch that film if I was in some sort of clockwork orange nightmare strapped to a chair with my eyes held open by clamps. And I'm not even going to tell you what I think about Hathaway!

Monday in Melbourne

It's funny you say that because in Melbourne town it is both a Monday and the first day of the working week! Some people go to work. Some people work from home. Some people do other things I guess.

I do the middle one.

This means that today I have seen this Irish Setter, I like to call him Doggy. (Only in cyberspace though. In real space he has a real name, obviously.)


A collection of novels by a collection of famous novelists. I call these "novels".


And this computer screen.


I am so glad you have to come home on Friday so we can finally be on the same boring page together!