The Joy of Flex

Wow, it’s been a while. Over two years in fact! One of my new years’ resolutions was to write more. Or in fact, at all. So here I am. Miss me?

Today I was on my flexi day. I love the concept of flexible working hours. Where I work at the moment, we work an extra half hour a day and get every third Friday off. Yea! So today I went to the Natural History Museum and saw the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition. It was awesome. You should go see it. It totally inspires you to want to get a Canon and go out crawling around fields and mountains lying in wait for a snow leopard to wander past and flare it’s nostrils at you, just as you squeeze down on the shutter. I went last year and felt the same way, but have somehow managed not to become a National Geo snapper just yet. Maybe this year.

(Speaking of inspiring photographers – go to montmartephotoblog.org – this girl is amazing.)

Then after I’d had all the polar bears and ospreys I could handle, I wandered back through Kensington and picked up some bargains at the sales. How bout those sales huh? I reckon we are just going to be in a constant state of sales all year. Pretty soon they will be paying us to take the stock away.

God, Iggy Pop selling car insurance is so depressing. Even though they tried to make it an anti-ad ad, he’s still selling goddamn insurance. Why Iggy, why? He truly has become a stooge ☹ What next, Patti Smith selling hair removal cream?

A few random thoughts...

Greetings, gentle reader.

It's been a while. How art thou? I hope thou art ace.

I have just gone through some draft posts I got half way through writing, and have decided to post them anyway. They are quite dated now but what the hell. So here is a small collection of half formed ideas that amused me a while ago when I had more time on my hands.

Personals

There's nothing I love more than personal ads. It's an addiction. I used to anticipate the delivery of our local newspaper, The Northwest News, each week as a child anticipates Christmas morning, or a fifteen year old in a Christian high school anticipates free dress day. I've never read them with the intention of actually seeking someone out, I just love seeing what people think are important characteristics to highlight in their own profiles/specify as neccessary in their potential partners. Now that I no longer have the Northwest News, I have The Guardian Soul Mates website. I did create a profile of myself once in a drunken giggly moment, but have since deleted in embarrassment. But they suck you in to creating a profile by only allowing you to view 5 profiles as a non-member, then denying access. Like Santa holding the wrapped presents just out of reach or the principal sending you home because your skirt is too short. Now why did I start this post? Oh yes, I'm moving out in two weeks and have been sifting through gumtree for suitable housemates, and considering posting my own profile on the wanted page. It's so difficult finding the right match.

World What?

Much is being made of England's "lacklustre" performance yesterday in the "extreme" conditions of 30 degree heat. 30 degrees! That's funny. They should try playing a five set tennis match in Melbourne in January.

There is a part of me that wishes I could get excited about the World Cup but the sea of red and white flaggage is leaving me cold. It would be fun to watch the Australia/Japan match tomorrow but alas, it's on during work hours. Will have to settle for Australia/Brazil on Sunday. Maybe then I will catch the fever. I remember being completely disdainful of the 2000 Olympics right up until they started - from the opening ceremony I was hooked. Of course the best part was Roy and HG with Syd, Ollie and Dickhead, and who could forget Fatso the Fat Arsed Wombat.

Weird choice of background music in news stories: In the background there is the BBC doing a story on Corruption in the Beautiful Game. They are playing Take Five.

Most memorable gigs

My brother posted on his blog recently about a defining gig of his youth, The Toothfaeries playing Valley Fiesta circa 1996 or thereabouts. You should all go read it, it's ace. Just over there to your left. Not the picture of Radiohead, that's Radiohead at Hammersmith Apollo earlier this year. They were excellent. But anyway, here are my most memorable gigs.

Ben Harper, Blues Fest
I stood literally for hours up the front of the stage in order to have the best view, and it was so closely packed out I could not bend my legs to stretch them. My knees were searing with pain by the time Ben finally took the stage.

Beck, Festival Hall
I wish I could mix genres whilst at the same time reinventing them. At the beginning of the gig he said something along the lines of "I'm going to just slowly start to heat things up, and by the end of the night we'll be cooking"

Radiohead, Festival Hall

Livid 199?6/7 or so
Cake: Particularly remember the whole crowd singing "whaaaaaay-oh, whaaaaaaay-oh, whaaaaaaya-oh, whaay-oh!" during Mr Mastodon Farm and John McCrae doing his "Ohhhh yeah, ohhhhhh no, aohhhhhhhll right!" in every song.
Reef: something about that lead singer was just irresistable. Sex on legs. Summers in bloom.....
The Toothfaeries: played one of the small stages late, one of the last acts, while everyone else was at Soundgarden. But they were so where it was at.

The Cat Empire, The Zoo, ages ago, one of their early Brissy gigs...

George, Pizza Caff gigs, 1998

Introverts: An orientation, not a lifestyle choice

I have often thought of making myself a t-shirt, badge or other such proclamatory outerwear that says "I don't do small talk" or "I suck at parties" (although the latter option does have the potential to be misconstrued by those not entirely pure of mind). I have also been tempted to include a disclaimer in my CV that reads in bold: Definitely NOT possessed of a 'bubbly' personality. Find here an illuminating article on being an introvert in an extrovert's world. (Thanks Janey!)

Now, that's well enough social interaction for one day - I'm off to recover.

Meeting your heroes

A little while ago I went to see Alain de Botton launch his latest book, The Architecture of Happiness. Despite adoring his writing I have never seen any of his television shows so didn't really know what to expect. Actually that's a lie - I expected an articulate, charming, witty man and that's exactly what we got. I got my copy of the new book and my Shakespeare & Company bookshop copy of The Romantic Movement signed afterwards. I was totally overcome with shyness at meeting one of my favourite people. This is how I had pictured the encounter:

There I am, lipstick carefully blended, hair shiny and with the cool, slightly bored expression of an authentic hipster. I approach A, lift my sunglasses onto my head and give a winning smile.

J: Lovely to meet you, Alain.

A: Likewise - ah?

J: Jen

A: Jen - what an enchanting name. Did you know my next book is going to be on the role names play in forming our identity, and the associations of particular names with certain characteristics and the impact that has on our daily lives? I'm actually doing a chapter on the great Jennifers in history - Aniston, Lopez, Grey.

J: Really? How interesting - engaging on an intellectual level while at the same time accessible to a mass readership.

A: Thanks!

J: It would lend itself quite nicely to television too.

A: That's what I thought!

J: A playful yet considered study of onomastics for the modern age.

A: Maybe you could write my press release?

J: Are you familiar with the Jimeoin "Demi Sex God from Hell" sketch? Interesting observation on nicknames.

A: Thanks for the tip. Here are your books... and my phone number.

Actual sequence of events:

There I am, lipstick a bit smudged by takeaway coffee cup, hair shiny but I suspect harbouring dandruff, sporting the excited, slightly hysterical expression of an authentic teeny bopper about to meet Guy Sebastian. I approach A, remove my spectacles which broke in half six weeks ago and which I now balance on my nose for special outings where I have to see further than three metres, and fumble for my books.

A: (Gives winning smile) Hello!

J: (Blushes madly, proffers 2 books) Hi.

A: (Takes copy of latest book and signs it. Takes the second copy) Ah, this is an old -

J: (Continues to blush and nods agreement) Yes.

A: (Finishes signing books, hands them back to me, continues to smile merrily)

J: Thanks so much (Takes books and runs away to hyperventilate into brown paper bag.)

And there it is. Christ, what would I do if I ever met Stephen Moffatt?!

Independent cinemas - another one bites the dust

God, this is too depressing. My heart is breaking. Please follow the link and send an email of support. I will write more later, when the pain has subsided.

Love on the small screen: Three defining affairs of The Afternoon Show generation

A bit over a year ago, I revisited Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet, and was left largely underwhelmed, if not somewhat tickled by the cutesy contemporary visual translations. So flashy, so many sparkling pleasures. Not to mention ace soundtrack. But the tale of star crossed lovers just did not move me in the way I felt it should have, the way that story deserves to move people. The feeling of simply not really caring about R+J's fate left me wondering if there was something wrong with me - a 24 year old female not entirely resistant to the lure of the sentimental, not yet completely embittered by romantic encounters - why did it fail to seduce me?

I then tried to think of films where I had truly, madly, deeply cared about the love story on screen - and came up with nothing. I reverted to the accepted romantic classics - Gone with the Wind, Casablanca.. umm... yawn. Why was big screen love so forgettable to me? It's not that I had trouble thinking of films I loved - just none of them seemed to be about love.

However, the same weekend as watching R+J, I got my hands on The Office Christmas Special DVD, and my girlish heart almost burst with joy at its conclusion. The tortured office romance between Tim and Dawn finally blooming into life was the most convincing affirmation of l'amour I had seen in years. It seemed I had found a rival to the other Greatest Love Story of Our Time, that of Spike and Lynda from Press Gang. Those halcyon days of the Afternoon Show, rushing home from school to see what crazy antics Colin was getting up to, watching Kenny nice for Britain and Sarah blush her way to the top, but most of all hanging out for Spike's famous chat up lines and Lynda's razor sharp knock backs. And of course in between Press Gang and The Office was that other world that incites frenzied fan activity, the Buffyverse. Where would our generation be without the Scooby gang to guide us in modern relationships?

Thinking of Tim and Dawn and Spike and Lynda and the Sunnydale kids I developed a theory: when it comes to matters of the heart, small screen characters have a greater capacity to affect us as they are more a part of our everyday lives - we invest more in them and consequently the rewards are greater. To test this theory, I sent out a text message survey to friends which read "Pop quiz: When was the last time an on screen love affair made you say "Yes! I do believe in Love!!" and who were the characters?" The funniest answer was Spiderman (love your work Jodes!) but here are a few others:

Tim and Dawn, The Office x 2
Spike and Buffy, BTVS
Buffy and Angel, BTVS
Houlihan and Pierce, M*A*S*H
Elizabeth and Mr Darcy, Pride and Prejudice x 3
Spike and Lynda, Press Gang
Grant and Tiffany, East Enders
Cat and Alfie, East Enders
Phoebe and anyone she has a crush on, Charmed

Maria and Captain von Trapp, The Sound of Music
Finding Neverland (parental love)
The Wedding Crashers
Brokeback Mountain
Aragon and Arwen, LOTR
Before Sunset x 3
Breakfast at Tiffany's x 2
Lost in Translation x 2
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Love Actually
Garden State
Spiderman

So it looks like my theory fell flat on its arse, as big screen outweighed small screen (although the margin was quite respectable.) Eh, it was only ever half-baked anyway. But I would be very interested to hear more votes from anyone out there... PhDs have been written on far, far less meaningful topics!

love jen xoxo

PS The one big screen exception I came up with was the Before Sunset/Sunrise series. Watching the sequel nine years after I had seen the original at the cinema was like meeting up with an old friend who had lived overseas for nine years. I desperately wanted them to get together, profess their undying love, and live happily ever after. But this was the only example I could find. And if I'd mentioned it earlier it would have stuffed up the flow of the argument. So there.

*****Music playing in club below: Salt'n'Pepa, Push it. Oooh baby baby....

Confessions of a Clinique free gift junkie

It's that time again... every couple of months the posters appear along the tube escalators...time for a trip to the local Clinique counter to buy my two items and pick up my little bag of freebies. As a very late bloomer when it comes to make up (didn't own my own till I was 22) and skin care products in general, the world of cleanse tone moisturise is still a little puzzling. My mum never wore make up, and as a fifteen year old who read Real Gorgeous I always saw the beauty industry as an evil manifestation of the patriarchy designed to oppress women by undermining their selfesteem etc... So I never really bothered with it. Then about a year ago my mum said to me "You know, you'll end up with a crepey neck like me if you don't moisturise!" And in order to narrow down the ridiculously large range of products I have total brand loyalty, purely because my first venture into cosmetics, triggered by Mum's comment also coincided with her showing off a cute little zippered bag of free gifts of which I was acutely jealous, and so I rushed out and got my own. And a world of smelly delights opened up! But that was a year ago and I'm still not exactly sure where the T-zone is... Also, I don't see why if I always burn in the sun I am definitely a type I skin type. All my other answers were type 2 and 3! How does that work? Just because I'm pale and never tan and always burn bubble freckle and peel then go back to being deathly pale (Anne Shirley would say my skin was alabaster) I'm pidgeonholed as a type I for life?

So anyway, last free gift time included a lipstick, Fresh Watermelon. It was way too pinky-red for me and I never really wore it. This time there was also a lippy, Pink Bamboo, a much subtler, more natural shade. So I slapped on the Pink Bamboo and then, feeling edgy, added a light layer of Fresh Watermelon and smacked my lips together so they blended together... and this made me think of Kissing Jessica Stein -
there's this scene where Jessica and her girlfriend are in the back of a cab going somewhere and Jessica compliments Helen's shade of lipstick, and asks what it is. To which Helen replies that it isn't just one, but a blend of three. Jessica sighs that she is always searching for the perfect shade, and Helen says "Oh you'll never find it. Trust me, you have to blend." And it's like this really profound statement on relationships and the futility of looking for "the one" and accepting people for what they are and not being co-dependent and having different sources of happiness and...stuff. I just tried to find the exact quote on IMDB but it's not there. Hmph. It totally summed up the film and no one bothered to put it up there? These people call themselves fans?

So anyway, that's my Clinique obsession. And a bit about a movie I really like. Goodnight!

Cooke, Kaz (1995) Real Gorgeous: The truth about Body and Beauty, Sydney: Allen & Unwin.

***Music currently playing in club below: Crazy in love by Beyonce ... my favourite part is when she goes "Uh oh uh oh uh oh uh oh..."

You know it’s hard out here for a temp… one office worker’s struggle to break out of the ex-pat ghetto

Yea! It’s raining!! If there’s one thing I love, it’s rain. And rain when you are snuggled in bed with you lap top and Radio National podcasts is even better!!

I have been quite enjoying my unemployed state the last two weeks. It’s been fun getting up late and starting the day with a leisurely coffee, wondering what treasures the next 12 hours of internet surfing will bring.

Of course I wouldn’t be enjoying it quite so much if I thought it would last forever – I’m sure I will be back in the world of photocopiers and databases soon. But after two months of temping I think you need a month off to remember you are a sentient being, with thought processes and such. After about two days I was ready to stab myself in the eye to relieve the boredom. But I’m exaggerating. There are things that crop up from time to time that keep you stimulated, on your toes. I’ll never forget the time I ran out of staples. I stayed calm, located the spare staples, reloaded, and did the job I was sent there to do. The Anzacs would have been proud.

Today my AdeB books from Amazon arrived – yes! I finished Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason – adored it. Somehow the Thai prison episode did not strike me as ridiculous and vaguely racist like it did in the film. And it was actually quite interesting as it was set/written over the period when Blair came to power and Princess Diana died, and makes an interesting study as a sort of mood-meter of a certain type of British citizen (ie the pop-literate, city-dwelling, media-industry-inhabiting thirty-something) in the period of British modern history pre-War on Terror/iPODs.

Annoyed that I was not organised enough to get on the register to vote in time for the coming local elections. British politics is even more depressing than the Australian scene, if that’s possible. I will never forget turning on the tv last October to see Tony Blair trying to convince everyone that 90 days detention without charge/legal representation/contact with the outside world wasn’t an erosion of civil liberties. Loser.

So anyway, last night when I couldn’t get to sleep I had this idea of a t-shirt to make to wear to the Love Music Hate Racism concert in Trafalgar Square on the weekend (although have to admit it’s not so much my fervent desire to make a stand against racism that propels me there so much as the fact that Belle & Sebastian are playing, yea! Takes me back to my free Regurgitator gigs in King George Square period) There is a Young Ones marathon on this weekend and it reminded me of one of my favourite quotes, when Rick is talking about starting his own political party - “People who don’t pay their television licence fees against the Nazis!” I was thinking of changing ‘Nazis’ to ‘the BNP’ although I do quite like the original. What do you think? Answers on a postcard! (Slash comment box.) And does anyone know where one can buy puffy paint in this one-horse town?

Oh – a final note on the title of this post. I actually quite liked Hustle and Flo, even if that song begs the obvious question, “Don’t you think it’s a smidge harder for the prostitutes, sonny Jim?”

ANZAC Biscuits, c/o Nana

Today I waited around all day waiting for a phone call. It finally came so I could go out and buy ingredients to make Anzac biccies. But I got all depressed by the LIDL/ASDA experience and came home in a grump, and now it's almost nine pm and I don't feel like making them anymore. Maybe tomorrow. Sorry diggers.

A word from my Nana:

This is the recipe from the old faithful Schauer book.

ANZAC BISCUITS

Sift 1 full cup flour into a mixing bowl. Stir in 1½ cups rolled oats, 1 small cup dessicated coconut,1 small cup sugar, 2 teaspoons ground ginger. In a small saucepan, melt ¼ lb (125g) butter or margarine with 2 tablespoons golden syrup and 2 tablespoons water. Remove from heat and hold saucepan over dry ingredients as you stir in 1 teaspoon crushed bi-carb soda. As it foams, pour into dry ingredients and stir well. (If it seems too dry add a very little bit of water to remains in saucepan, and add to mixture). Lightly roll teaspoonfuls into balls, and flatten on very well greased biscuit trays, leaving a space between, as they spread. Bake in a fairly slow oven – they burn easily – until golden. They are soft when cooked, but become crisp when they are cold.

In the recipe that Philip Johnson has published in the recipe section in the paper, he does not use ginger, but I have always put it in my biscuits. I always think they turn out more crispy if you use butter, but if you like the softer kind, margarine is better.
Good luck, Jen. Hope you have a great day. Lots of love. Nana. XXXXXXXXXXXXX0000000000000000000XXXX

The Serenity feat. Kel

So anyway, I was listening to The Serenity the other day, on the way home from somewhere, on the smelly old northern line to Clapham Common, then the big red bus (up top, front seat, naturally) all the way home, and damn if they didn’t make me homesick for some smooth vegas tunes. Also made me want to be a guest vocalist in hip hop outfit in manner of Kel. Then name would be preceded by feat., one of my favourite contractions. Hmm. Actually it’s not really a contraction, is it? More of a shortening. Hmm. Must look it up.

Later - ‘Feat.’ As a shortened version of featuring is not in the OED online. Perhaps I should write to Balderdash & Piffle?

Travel journal

Have you ever lost a journal? Have you ever had a journal stolen? By someone you trusted? Possibly fancied? Just a question.

I no longer have my journal that I kept while I was travelling. So I have decided to try to sketch some images here of the places I went to and people I met, before everything fades into the recesses of my mind, only to emerge in lucid flashes once senile dementia has set in.

I will not make any attempt to reproduce my trip in any particular order, chronological or otherwise, but rather scribble (tap) down memories as they stir. No doubt it will be sporadic. I’m like that.

For the story of how I lost my journal – stay tuned. It’s a good’un!

Bridget Jones, Laundry, Debt, Ebay scalpers, Alain de B

“Am going to be top flight journalist and gradually build up more and more work and extra money so can give up job and merely sit on sofa with laptop on knee. Hurrah!” (Fielding 1999: 83)

4pm - Time for elevenses. (Remember I only got out of bed at 12.30pm) Tea and LIDL hot cross buns.

Have successfully done laundry and is now tumbling about being dried. The amount of energy used up in this country by people drying their clothes must be absolutely disgusting. Maybe I should try to find another way that is more friendly to the earth. There is not really any room for a drying rack in our little room. There are some lines hung up on the wall so maybe I should drip dry them. Have fear of using radiators to dry clothes although it seems to be the done thing.

Number of wing wangs in debt – AU 3000. (But that’s only 1200 GB wing wangs, luckily!) Briefly contemplated taking my Radiohead Hammersmith tickets to ebay. But then reflected on my “Ebay scalpers go straight to hell” theory, which I have stated loudly and forcefully on more than one occasion. May run risk of appearing hypocritical if sold out tix for profit at first sign of financial ruin. Plus would have trouble sleeping at night, etc.

Am reading Bridget Jones sequel. Obviously. Have not read first one but this was one of my charity shop bargains, 50p. Happy to say it is not bearing much resemblance to the revolting second film which I hated. Stupid Thai women's prison sequence completely ridiculous and cringeworthy.

Am not entirely sure of blog etiquette on referencing but figure you can do what you like, so have gone with Harvard style. Although cannot seem to make italics work here so is a bit unclear. Sorry.

Alain de B's new book has come out a couple of days ago. £15 at Ottakers. Resisted buying it as trying to curb spending however cannot see this lasting too much longer as I am going to see him launch it at the National Theatre and getting a copy signed is kind of essential. Plus on amazon it is only £11.87 (and you get free p+p if you spend 15 wing wangs, so could get copy of Essays in Love signed too...)

Got a copy of Kaz Cooke's pregnancy and birth book yesterday for an expectant friend. UK version is in the Rough Guide series - "The Rough Guide to Pregnancy and Birth." The original Australian edition was called "Up the Duff". Ha, ha.

References:

Fielding, Helen (1999) Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason, London: Picador.

iPODs and OED

A few weeks ago my lust for an ipod led me to the apple homepage, where I discovered you can personalise you ipod with 23 characters engraved on the back. I can’t actually afford an ipod at the moment and my very lovely Glasweigan friend has lent me hers, so I have ample time to come up with something completely appropriate and unique to me. (The site had suggestions on the ‘cult of ipod’ – eg “ipod therefore I am” but that’s a bit lazy I think…) But really, 23 characters is not very many. I wanted some really inspirational music-related quote, but in 23 characters you gotta be damn pithy. Plus I hate text-language, c u l8r, etc, which potentially could save me some space. Anyway here are some nice quotes I found on askoxford.com…..

Music has charms to sooth a savage breast.
William Congreve 1670-1729: The Mourning Bride (1697)

It is only that which cannot be expressed otherwise that is worth expressing in music.
Frederick Delius 1862-1934: in Sackbut September 1920 'At the Crossroads'

Architecture in general is frozen music.
Friedrich von Schelling 1775-1854: Philosophie der Kunst (1809)

Their website also has a really cool basic grammar help desk thingy, for when you can’t quite remember where those pesky apostrophes are supposed to go. A classic word nerd introduction to dangling participles can also be found here - : “Dangling participles often make good jokes; but they can be confusing and it's best to avoid them.”

Easter Saturday 2006

Greetings gentle reader. Welcome to my blog, I hope you enjoy your stay.

My favourite blog / online diary type thing is Stuart’s on the Belle and Sebastian website. He hasn'’t updated it in a while, probably busy being a rock star, so I just read the earliest one on the website, from 1999. He was reading Kafka in a launderette. That man is sex on legs.

I've spent most of the day doing some research online. So I have also been listening to podcasts of Safran’s Sunday night show on Triple J -– all four that are available on the website, about 6 hours worth. It'’s the first time I'’ve listened to jjj in six months. The thing I miss most about home is Lateline.

(Apart from friends and family, obviously. They don't count when you are playing that favourite backpackers getting to know you game, So what do you miss most about home?) When I was working crazy hours last year, I would get home and flop down in front of the telly in time for Tony Jones (right) to give Johnny or Kim or some such a good grilling, and I would feel like I was still in touch with the world beyond my office. So comforting. I've yet to find a really good substitute over here, Newsnight is something like it but I haven'’t totally committed to it yet. Discovering the Lateline downloads was brief ecstasy, until my lappy started doing something funny and not downloading them properly.

Apart from this, I love my lappy. It is small but perfectly formed. It plays my music and emits a friendly white glow, a kind of electronic aura.

Ha, you know what's funny? I just ran the spellcheck on this post and it doesn't recognise 'blog'. Ha. Or punctuation marks, apparently. Let's see how this goes.