Extra, extra... read all about it! Welcome to my blog. A place for me to carry on like nobody's listening. Not that that's ever stopped me before. Keep comin' back for more, I'll try to entertain and inform you at least once a week.

Monday, September 12, 2005

3D movies & The Shipping News

Part 1.
Ok... so who is the genius who thought it was time to bring back the 3D movie? I would like to put salt in their toothpaste. Frankly, it's old. The last movie that I can remember that employed the 3D effect was a Nightmare on Elm Street that bombed. And I know it can't have been anything to do with the plot. Hell, (no pun intended), I think Wes Craven even directed it. So it's the concept that is flawed, clearly. What I would like to see is a 3D theatre. Don't ask me how it would work, that's not my department. I'm in ideas, development is on the second floor. But you better believe I run the show. *delusional cackling in progress*

Part 2.
Annie Proulx wrote the book. Kevin Spacey starred in the movie. Now I write the shit. Welcome to the Shipping News (or Noeuds et dénouements as the French more eloquently put it). Yeah, it's not glamorous. I don't get a byline but that's ok. If ever anyone wants to know what time the Sealord Tamar arrives at Webb Dock east 4, I'm the one they can thank. If they need to know what time the Spirit of Tasmania 2 (the cousin of SOT 1 with an inferiority complex to boot) departs from Station Pier, look no further than the second last page of The Age news section. Put together by yours truly.
Alright it's not at all glamorous, but at least I don't live in some crappy fishing village in Newfoundland.
Oh but what I'd give for Julianne Moore as my wife...

Friday, August 19, 2005

Life in the 40th most liveable suburb in Melbourne

I've been a bad blogger. Where are my manners? I have neglected you, my adoring fans (insert sound of one person coughing in an empty theatre here).
So it's time for an update - only little has changed. I still live where I live, work where I work, and laze where I laze. Is that a verb? Oh well, it is now.
Since my last post two important things have happened. Sure, they are things that only I will consider important but hey isn't this thing all about self-indulgence?
1) Football. Not only have I realised what I've been missing out on all these years, but I've also thrown my support behind a team. Finally. I deliberated long and hard on this, and finally I'm ready to publicly announce my candicacy as a legitimate fan of the St Kilda Saints. Why? Because of where I live. Do I need another reason? Ok - they're playing well this year. You can't argue with that. Sure they haven't won a flag since 1966, but that will only make it all the more sweet when they win it next year, after 40 years of waiting. (I've figured out that it's this eternal hope of one day winning that keeps people loyal to unreliable clubs like St Kilda, Richmond, Hawthorn... heck all the Melbourne clubs).
2) Latte. Yeah I've sold out. If you read today's Age then you'll know that by all accounts I should be living in South Yarra. The most liveable suburb in the most liveable city in the most liveable... ah you get the drift. One of my colleagues kindly bought me a coffee on her way to work last week. It was a latte. She wasn't to know about my love affair with the bitter-sweet dichotomy that is the long black. Some background - in the past I haven't been able to drink warm milk without feeling ill. Clearly it was psychological because it doesn't affect me anymore. So then I realised, the cafeteria at work make terrible, terrible black coffee. I've been putting up with it for months, thinking I would one day buck up the courage to go to a homewares store/department and buy a plunger and then get some fresh grounds from one of countless suppliers that line Acland St ( I think it should be called boulevard, in the spirit of beach culture), the main drag in this, the 40th most liveable suburb in the most liveable city etc etc.
Anyway I digress. I've been putting up with bad coffee for a long time, and once I realised I could tolerate the milk, the switch to latte was an obvious attraction. And over the past week I must have had a year's worth of the things. Can't get enough. In fact, I'm going to go and get one now.
If you find me lying destitute in the gutter one day, warm frothy milk on my lips, cheap polystyrene cup in hand, please don't pity me - I have only myself to blame.

Monday, July 11, 2005

London. July 7, 2005

Imagine this. You've just stepped off the Underground because you heard your train might be delayed. You step outside and jump on the first bus you see that might take you in the direction you're travelling. Something doesn't feel right. The number of people leaving the station, the sense that noone is comfortable, the re-directed route of the bus. Then you see a man. A man you might see twenty times on any other day. Normal, ordinary, indistinct. But he's looking anxious. Searching in his bag. In. Out. In. Out. It's making you nervous, but surely it's nothing. He's just one of many in this city of millions who has some minor psychological disturbances. But still, it doesn't feel right. Then comes blackness. Smoke, light, heat, pain. If only you had known. What would you do?
This is a scenario I've been playing over and over in my head since the terrorist attack on London 5 days ago. Because it's exactly what happened to a bloke last Thursday, as reported in The Age and other media.
What would you do if you saw something like this on public transport? Someone acting overtly suspiciously. I think I would try to convince myself that it was nothing. That this kind of thing wouldn't happen where I live. But is that the reality? It's so hard to tell.
We, as a democratic people, have done so much to harm our reputation in the muslim world. Some things we have done for the greater good, and it is obvious. Other actions are darker, more sinister. But does that mean we should become targets ourselves? Wow what a massive head fuck.
This could happen anywhere. But if we decide to persecute every person who nervously scratches around in their backpacks, we would be in a truly Orwellian state.
This is not living.

n.b. - I have full respect for the Londoners who moved outside yesterday and stood in defiance of this barbarism. WWII is not something we should be proud of, but standing up to this outrageous violence is. Love, peace, and respect to all.

Sunday, July 03, 2005

this, that, and the other

Live 8... watched it until about 2am.which was a lot longer than i should have. some of it was good, a lot of it was bad... musically, that is. I was sometimes more entertained while staring at the bottom of the screen waiting for my name to come up. It didn't.
The banner along the bottom was supposed to show only the names of people who had sms
'd (surely the first acronym/verb combo in the english language) or gone online to pledge their support to the cause. Now sure some people would add on ''make poverty history'' or ''down with poverty'' to their names, and that was cool. But some idiot decided to rant, and some other idiot wasn't screening the messages, and so we saw this:
''Make them stop breeding. Make them take the pill. Make them use Implanon... this way there won't be any more starving children.''
Now that made me mad. We can't possibly change the global consience if there are people as naive as that armed with Foxtel and a mobile phone.
5/7/05 -
Still mad about that Live 8 thing. Ignorance is no excuse. But I had better got off my pedestal, this is neither the time nor the place.
I scored a whhhoooollleee lot of new cd's today, courtesy of a workmate who just happens to be on a major record label's distribution list for reviewing. He only gets around to about 10% of them, and thus had a stockpile that was just waiting to be plundered. I picked titles that I wouldn't ordinarily purchase in the record store, the cream of which would have to be The Best of Grandmaster Flash and Sugar Hill. Ok, so if I'd seen that in a store, I woulda bought it in an instant. And no, I'm not getting my auld school hip-hop monikers confused, it is a combination of the best from the Grandmaster and from the Sugar Hill Gang, with a good mix of co-conspirators thrown in. What a tremendous find!
Other albums that came home with me at the end of the day were Luka Bloom, Tom Waits, Robert Plant and the Strange Sensation, oh and a fantastic little number from Lazyboy. Ecclectic as they come.
It's going to take me the rest of the month to form an opinion on most of those.
Also, I need to find my own distribution list.
Melbourne - two months in - and here are some cursory observations:
It's getting colder, but I'm still able to wiggle my fingers and toes if I'm outside in the wee hours of the night - unlike good old Canberra.
Trams still totally rule my world.
It really does rain a lot more here than anywhere else I've been. And even in a drought, that's saying something. I have never had to buy an umbrella before, let alone carry it around in my bag, 'just in case'. It really is quite refreshing. Remind me that I said that in a year.
And football... ah yes, football. I'm in love with a small red ball being kicked and thrown around a large oval field. Me, the most anti-sport of most people I know, captivated by a full-contact ball game. Who woulda thunk it? But there you go. Maybe it will wear off like any good novelty.

It's still amateur hour in my blogworld, so bear with me, I know my ramblings will eventually start to be interesting.
Please comment... i like feedback.

Thursday, June 16, 2005

Sooooooooooooooo lazy

Today is the sixteenth of June. That's exactly ten days since my last blog.
I have been lazy, I admit. But I've also been busy.
Busy celebrating my birthday (much love to all who gave me a shout on the day!), busy entertaining visitors - thank you Kate, Elo and Luke for putting in the effort, 'twas great to see you all - and busy trying to find that work-life balance that suits me best (still looking there!).
I'm reading a brilliant book - 'Blink' by Malcolm Gladwell. If you'd like a glimpse at how well this guy writes and how interesting his essays can be, check out some of his work from the New Yorker at www.gladwell.com
Do it. Do it.
Do it.
You know it to be true.
Work is incredibly dull. I feel like my soul is being slowly sucked dry. But you know, I have to stick to my guns, or all the work i've put in so far will be for nothing. Small steps, Simon...
On Saturday I will be catching up with old friends kelly, erin and eden, and the latter two i haven't seen in many a year so it will be quite the reunion.
I'm missing The Amazing Race which must mean it's time to go.
''We're through the looking glass here people''

Monday, June 06, 2005

It begins

And so, it begins...
Maybe not so much Frankenstein's monster as it is Disney's Bambi, I've finally fulfilled my promise to so many of you and set up this blog monster.
After two weeks (or is it three?) I'm beginning to tire of Big Brother, and have decided to put my daily attention span of 30 minutes to better use.
Because I'm so bad at writing emails, and even worse at making phone calls, I hope I can use this blog to keep a lot of you informed and entertained as I find myself a new home in Melbourne.
Stay tuned for more, for this is my last night as a 25 year old and I intend to sleep it off gracefully.