I heard a film reviewer say that there isn't much point doing a review of the new Harry Potter film because the people who love the book/film franchise are going to see it no matter what. That is very much true.

Will and I went this morning and I can say that I did enjoy it for it was, a Harry Potter film, but I was hugely disappointed by how very badly it was cobbled together. A lot happens in the book version of HP and the Half Blood Prince and really almost bugger all happens in the film. How is this so? How did they fill up 2 and half hours of cinematic time without really saying much of anything or having much action or progressing the story in any way?

The editing is shocking, one scene bumping into another in an almost comic manner. It looks to me like they tried to shoot the book staying true to the story, realised it would have turned into a 6 hour art house epic, then almost randomly chopped out bits here and there with the aim simply to fit into a limited time allowance.

I left wondering whether people who hadn't read the book were able to make heads or tails of the story. Apart from a great deal of focus on teenage crushes and "snogging" there was almost no mention of Voldermort. Worse still Voldermort's Horcruxes, which are arguably the point of this installment of the book, are explained only briefly, their full significance barely touched upon. Which makes me wonder how they'll be tackled in the Deathly Hallows.

To finish on a positive note I have to say the Quidditch scenes were excellent, the special effects obviously improving from film to film.

I know that Deathly Hallows is being filmed in two parts, hopefully allowing for a bit more focus on the intricate details of the story, but I do despair for it, my favourite of the books, if this is any indication of the contempt with which the production team is now treating its audience.

Feeling down? Not having such a great day?

Go HERE now!

Seriously, is there anything better in life than laughing at bad translation?

If this stuff doesn't cheer you up, I suggest heavy duty drugs.

My movie review of Last Ride (reviewed for www.KidsSpot.com.au):

I enjoyed Last Ride but it is certainly not an easy film to watch. Hugo Weaving is Kev, a petty career criminal on the run across the Australian outback with his son Chook. The backstory is played out in semi-cryptic flashbacks and we slowly come to realise what has brought them to this situation. As they travel along an obviously futile journey, it is the relationship between father and son which drives the story. Very quickly the audience understands that there can be no happy ending.

It is a sparse film, little dialogue and tense drama, beautifully acted, written and directed. I was drawn into every scene, mesmerised. As a parent I found the neglect and abuse of Chook very hard to watch and comprehend. These are the fringes of our society which we don't often see and for the me the situation brought up more questions than answers.

I would not recommend this film as a piece of light entertainment. It is not that at all. But it is a thought provoking, intelligent film which explores themes which are worth thinking about.

I did very much love the ending. While it couldn't have ended happily without ruining the film, I thought the film makers did find a beautiful way of ending it on a note of hope.

I am writing in the hope that the act of writing will inspire me to write something worth reading. Are you with me?

I'm home this afternoon with one sleeping semi-sick child and one on holidays semi-bored child. Marianna awoke this morning with a temperature and a bit of a cough and a bit of a runny nose. Nothing serious (I hope). No curly tail or oinking at this point. Will is home on school holidays. So Big Jay stayed at home for a few hours this morning while I whisked myself to the office to get the wages done. I've been home since about 11 am (at which point Big Jay went to work). So far I've hung out laundry, put away laundry, printed off a tonne of envelopes for the invoices I printed at work last week and packed the envelopes (with Marianna on stamp duty). I've also printed off some maths revision sheets for Will (who was thrilled, let me tell you). I'm about to boil up some pasta to go with the bol sauce I made yesterday afternoon.

Speaking of cooking I have to tell you about the Jerusalem Artichoke Soup I made for lunch yesterday. These little critters are very confusing. They are not artichokes, they are the tubbers of the sunflower and they look like ginger, so by and large people who don't know them avoid them. I really loved the soup I made from them so I would recommend people giving them a go. Very similar to a potato in usage, you could mash them or roast them or pan fry them. I made a cream soup and it was sweet, nutty and delicious.

Tonight I'm off to another free movie care of http://www.kidspot.com/ . This time it's the new Aussie flick Last Ride with Hugo Weaving. It's on at Dendy Newtown so I'll be off to where all the young hip people are, I'm sure to blend right in.

Better mention the girls' weekend I enjoyed the weekend before last. Our playgroup mums' annual weekends away are now a well established institution, this having been the 3rd one. This time we enjoyed the attractions of beautiful Bowral and surrounds, including our now famous long lunch on Saturday afternoon at Centennial Vineyards (where I had previously seen Leonard Cohen earlier this year). The long lunch is a highlight of our weekends away and this one lived up to expectation, especially my rhubarb souffle with walnut ice cream (I wish I had ordered it for entree and main, it was THAT good).

This weekend just gone featured Saturday afternoon at the Swans vs Essendon game. We lost which was disappointing though not unexpected, it's been that sort of year. The highlight (or possibly low light) of the afternoon was the farewell to Barry Hall. Sure he's a thug, but he's OUR thug and we love him. The kids (with a great deal of help from mum) made a sign stating "Bye bye Barry. We'll miss you. Love Will and Marianna". Not sure if Barry saw it but it did come to the attention of one Deborah Hutton who was walking behind us after the game. We had a brief exchange regarding Barry's teary goodbyes and I will count that as one more in my pathetically short and dull list of brushes with fame.

A couple of pics to finish off this bit of useless drivel:

My big girl blowing out her candles at her 4th Birthday Party in May.

Cheer cheer the red and the white...

Nothing better than a hug from a giant baby swan...

Bye bye Big Bad Bazza.

For those who don't believe a four year old can love oysters.

Let's take a little journey back to 1995. A time, pre-children, when I had the energy to care, to give a rat's, to come out fighting, over the big things in life. A recent rummaging through a mystery box of crap residing under my desk at work revealed an odd little treasure: my correspondence with Drum Media, a popular culture free newspaper which may or may not exist these days; I am long past checking what the current week's gig guide has to offer.

This is the review of Red Hot Chili Peppers' My Friends by Ross Clelland which got my blood boiling:

"You know," said one marketing man in a suit to another, "once we got them to wear more than socks over their old fellas, all we needed was the nice ballad, show how cute the boy Kiedis is, and world domination was ours". And now, attempting to repeat the mega success of Under The Bridge, One Hot Minute's acoustic strummy thing becomes the new single that even your maiden aunt won't ask to be turned down when it comes on the radio, (and it will). By no means bad, but Coffee Shop ("we can dance like Iggy Pop") and the non-LP Let's Make Evil kick somewhat more.

This is the venomous spew I sent the way of Mr Clelland by return post (don't mess with my boys buddy):

Dear Drum,

In reference to Ross Clelland's review of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' My Friends in the 31 October issue of Drum Media: Well, excuse-bloody-me, you cynical bastard. While I would be the first one to jump on Mr Clelland's cynicism bandwagon when it comes to about 90% of what passes for popular music, I must voice a protest at this unfair castigation of one of the few truly inspired bands of the last decade. Yes, the Chili Peppers have been around for a decade. They didn't just appear on the whim of some "marketing man in a suit" to make a few bucks on the strength of some mournful little balland and that "cute... boy Kiedis".

For a start, anyone half familiar with the history of the band and their music would know that it all comes from their souls, from personal experiences with death and love and joy and despair and, above all, friendship. If they were simply after the quick bucks surely they wouldn't have waited for four years to come up with a follow up to Blood Sugar Sex Magik (and Under The Bridge).

It can't be that difficult to churn out boring old crap (as you are suggesting this song is) on a predictably regular basis - just ask Michael Bolton, Jimmy Barnes or one of the countless other "rock icons" who drown us in their meaningless blather. Please do not disregard the Chili Peppers as simply one of that lot - they are head and shoulders (and cocks?!) above the mediocre rabble. Next time try a bit of background research before you cast your judgement!

Sincerely
Kathy Blanter
Lisarow NSW

Gee, it didn't take much to get me going 14 years ago! How self righteous and hilarious. I guess nothing much has changed though. I'd still fight to the death for my precious Chili Peppers. I may be a lot older, a fair bit fatter and a great deal grayer in the hair department but it's good to know their music still makes me feel stuff, even when I think my jaded old heart has forgotten how to feel anything at all.

It's a little sad for me that Wilco, a band I have long held in high regard, a band responsible (in a collaboration with Billy Bragg) for Mermaid Avenue, one of my all time favourite CDs, have slowly dwindled into a pile of shite. I've just heard some of their new CD and it's truly bland and self indulgent. Awful. I will hang onto a sweet memory of watching them play at the Big Day Out about 6 or 7 years ago, Murray from The Wiggles standing right in front of me.

I can't believe I've already been home for almost two weeks. To be more precise I can't believe I was actually ever away. Real life has a way of sucking you back in that's truly awesome. Luckily I have photos (which I'll soon be sharing with you, dear reader) and my blog entries to remind me that the big trip did really happen; that I didn't just dream the whole thing.

So what's been happening these past two weeks. Well, the Swans have been loosing, they are getting quite good at it now. It's OK, we have a trip to Melbourne planned for August so we wouldn't want to be going again in September. This week was sad with Michael O'Loughlin announcing his retirement at the end of this season. I feel like I've watched him grow up these last 14 years, as he's grown from an 18 year old rookie to a senior player. He's been such an integral part of our team for all these years that even though I know at 32 he is getting past his AFL prime it will be hard to see him go.

Work has been busy, what with catching up on the work I missed while away and finishing up the end of financial year stuff. As always I am grateful to have a job which pays me more than I deserve to do work I can mainly do in my sleep and which allows me to do all my motherly duties without guilt or penalty. At the moment I am just grateful to have a job.

Jay got a car this week; a cute little Hyundai i30 hatch, Vivid Blue. We've always managed to do nicely as a one car family but it has become increasingly difficult to manage lately. So we bit the bullet and now we're a two car family.

Michael Jackson died and my intial reaction was "one less freak in the world". But then I just felt sort of relieved, like he's been put out of his misery. He was such a Gollum-like creature these last 10 years or so. Tortured, suffering, it was awful to watch. His music will be his legacy and whatever else he was nothing can take the music away from him. I choose to remember the beautiful young man singing Blame It On The Boogie and the sweet young boy dancing in front of The Jackson Five. I hope that the memory of the wretched creature he had become will die with him.

This week Marianna has been at her whining, whinging, tantruming best. It's been one meltdown after another. But in between these emotional train wrecks another side has been emerging. She has become a singing and dancing little dynamo, practicing the songs and moves she has learnt from watching the DVD of Will's school performance of The Lizard of Oz at any given moment. It is too cute to see her earnestly singing A Girls Gotta Dream, doing all the steps and the big arms perfectly.

Well, I'm tired now and my brain has suddenly stopped working. I can't think of a single other thing to write. So goodnight, check back soon for the photos.

Well, as you may have guessed I'm back home. Landed back in Sydney at 6:30 am on Monday morning. The flight home was quite good, I dozed on and off for a great deal of the trip. Managed to sleep through most of all three hours of Watchmen (which was fairly good from what I remember). Watched an episode of Flight of the Conchords (which is a show I could easily love very deeply) and an episode of a great show called Being Human; a British drama/black comedy about a vampire, a werewolf and a ghost sharing a house in Bristol (starts on ABC2 this Friday night).

It's been a tough couple of days from the point of view that I want to sleep early in the evening and then I wake up very early, perpetuating my sleeping problems. Monday I was asleep at 5 pm; I then woke at 4 am absolutely starving and got up for an early breakfast and to watch the final two episodes of True Blood. Yesterday I managed to stay up until 8 pm but then woke at 2 am and tossed and turned until I fell asleep again at 4:30 am.

Anyway, enough about my sleeping problems. Better finish this entry while I'm still awake. Let's catch up on the end of the trip.

I think we were off to Gordon Ramsey's Boxwood Cafe the last time I wrote. This is located in The Berkeley Hotel (where we had already enjoyed Afternoon Tea a few days before) in Knightsbridge. This restaurant has a Michellin star and is therefore a rung up on the ladder from Maze Grill where we had eaten previously. However we all agreed that Maze provided us with a superior experience. I think the problem with Boxwood was the service, it was odd. For example, we ordered a scallop entree to share and the waitress barely had time to get to the kitchen with our order before she re-appeared with the dish. It was a "what the...?" moment. The food was alright, my native lobster main being the standout dish.

After dinner we had a walk around the area, which was full of lovely little streets and Mews, studded with tiny local pubs. Then we came upon Sloane Street which is home to all things Big Name Designer. Shop after shop of the labels you see on the catwalks. Not that I'm a designer girl (unless you call Target a designer label) but thank goodness the shops were all shut. I'm sure that I would have found a pair of gorgeous shoes which would have equated to a couple of months' worth of mortgage payments.

The next day was our last in London. We packed and checked out, storing our bags at the hotel. The morning was spent at the amazing Burough Market. This is a foodie's heaven. Every type of gourmet food you can imagine is all here: cheeses from all over Europe, smoked meats, fruits and vegetables of every variety, gorgeous fresh seafood (including some of the most wonderful freshly opened oysters I've ever tasted), breads, pastries, you name it. Bliss.

Next stop, The National Gallery, for a last dose of culture. Then a taxi trip to the burbs to check out J's little flat in Hammersmith. As luck would have it Hammersmith happens to be not only home to my beautiful sister but also to the brand spanking new Westfield. Of course we needed to inspect this spectacle and after a quick stop in the iconic Fred Perry store we ended with a less than satisfying dinner at the Italian eatery.

Then it was time for the moment we had all been dreading, our goodbyes. I'm a pragmatist, I don't like to wallow too much in potentially painful emotions but it was so hard to say goodbye to my sister. It goes without saying that I love her but above that I just like hanging out with her so much, it so easy to be with her, it's the thing I miss most about her living overseas. So knowing that I wouldn't be able to do that again for quite some time was difficult to face. But we did say our goodbyes and after a short lived drama with the mini cab driver we were off to Heathrow.

Before I finish my entries about this amazing drip a few more tidbits about Odessa. One of the things which kept J and I endlessly amused were the menu translations. Every menu provided opportunities for sniggering and outright hilarity. Here is one of my favourite entries: Sliced Frozen Meats with Soaked Vegetables. Mmmm, doesn't that sound tempting?

You know you're living in a post-modern, globalised world when you are driving through Odessa and seeing posters for the forthcoming tour by Chris Norman from the 70s mega group Smokie. Sing with me now "Oh, I don't know why she's leaving or where she's going to go, I guess she's got her reasons but I just don't want to know 'cos for twenty four years I've been living next door to Alice...".

So on that note I'll put a full stop on my Odessa Adventure. Normal transmission will resume shortly.