The Adventures of Deep Kick Girl Down Under

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 8

2012-01-08T16:00:00.001+11:00

Blissful day by the river somewhere near Ellenborough, an hour and a half inland from Port Macquarie. Rustic haven of peace and natural beauty (but luckily we didn't have to stay the night because eeekkk, nature is kind of dirty and doesn't come with flushing toilets and stuff).

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 7

2012-01-08T08:36:00.002+11:00

My new favourite TV snack (along with Munchelo). Another cool find from Costco.

[I was going to put up a photo of my favourite child but I thought that may be politically incorrect.]

Skinhead Girl

2012-01-06T17:47:00.002+11:00

What a romantic title for a song that is! But man I love/d that song. Right up there with the heart warming Skinhead Love Affair. Hearing Buster belt it out last night tapped those pesky old feelings again. Damn it.

Fantastic night. You'd have to be dead not to love that Ska beat.

A great night musically and a revelation on other fronts. You just never ever know what's around that corner.

[I prefer to think of these pictures as artistic rather than blurry. Thanks iPhone 3.]

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 6

2012-01-06T17:26:00.002+11:00

I'm in love with his brain.

Smart funny is the best kind of sexy.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 5

2012-01-06T17:00:00.002+11:00

Today I'm wearing my Docs. The latest pair in a long line of many. I have very fond memories of my old pair of 8 hole Cherry Reds.

Dr Martens represent something to me: youth, freedom, dancing for hours in front of stage at a ska gig.

DMs for ever!

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 4

2012-01-04T22:11:00.002+11:00

Nothing exciting going on here. Just a scary VISA bill and boring junk.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 3

2012-01-03T21:41:00.001+11:00

This CD changed my life. It rekindled my love for the music of my youth; rekindled the passion I felt for music in my youth.

These boys turned me upside down and shook me to the core. Their music and their words live in my heart and bones.

They are rude and crude and deep and I can't imagine who I'd be without having had them in my ears and my life for the past twenty years.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 2

2012-01-02T09:05:00.001+11:00

Banana, Rockmelon and Milo Smoothie.

Tastes much better than it looks.

Photo A Day Challenge: Day 1

2012-01-01T16:53:00.001+11:00

Tired, relaxed, unfocused.

The first day of a new year.

Photo A Day Challenge - January 2012

2012-01-01T09:55:00.003+11:00

I've been a fan of Fat Mum Slim's blog for a little while now. It's elegant blogging; stylish, clean.

Since I've been a negligent little blogger I thought I would take up her January 2012 blogging challenge - Photo A Day.

Every evening I will upload a photo as set out in the challenge below.

If you want to do the challenge to you don't need to have a blog, just post on Facebook or Instagram if you have it.

[Oh, Happy New Year every one! Hope it's a good one my amigos.]

Season's Greetings

2011-12-21T11:58:00.003+11:00

I won't state the bleeding obvious that I have been a bad bad little blogger of late.

It's not that I don't have any blogger friendly thoughts. I have many thoughts, sometimes more than two a day. Sometimes even coherent ones. It's the time thing, there's just not enough of it in any one day. I have been trying to reduce my sleeping hours but can't get by on less than 7 which is still nowhere near Maggie Thatcher's 3 hours per night. I must try harder.

Anyways, why I'm here is not to regale you with any of my witty stories or mad ramblings but to say:

A) I will do better in 2012 on the blogging front, I promise... cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye. [If I've promised this before and haven't delivered, which I'm pretty sure is the case, I will try harder this time... probably.]

B) I'm a quickie sort of girl and that's where Facebook comes in. If you'd like to be my friend (and let's face it, who wouldn't!) on FB just email me at deepkickgirl AT gmail DOT com and if I know you and I'm fairly sure you're not an axe weilding maniac (not that there's anything wrong with that) I'll give you my real name so you can do the Friend Request thingy.

So for now I'd like to wish all my loyal readers - all four of you - a very relaxing and/or fun and/or exciting non-denominational Festive Season and health, love and happiness for 2012.

Car Conversation

2011-11-28T20:51:00.001+11:00

Driving home today Will is reading school holiday road safety tips from the school newsletter. One of the tips is keeping kids entertained with portable DVD players, digital games, iPods, etc.

I said aren't you kids lucky you have all those things for our long car trips.

"Yes," they both agreed.

I said when I was a child we didn't have that sort of stuff, we just had to look out of the window to entertain ourselves.

"That's right," Marianna says. "That was in the olden days."

"You are so smart'" Will tells her.

"Yes, I KNOW," she sighs, resigned to the burden of her own brilliance.

Just Kids: A Book Review

2011-11-13T19:25:00.001+11:00

Just Kids is Patti Smith's autobiographical book about her relationship with the artist Robert Mapplethorpe. It is not particularly satisfying as an autobiography because it skims the surface, leaving me wanting to know more details, hear more about the nitty gritty of their fascinating lives. What it lacks in detail it more than makes up for in emotion.

This book is a deathbed promise realised; a gift of love and respect.

Their relationship, built on a chance meeting in New York City in the late sixties when they were both "just kids", literally starving artists, transcends love, lust, sex, friendship. It is the true embodiment of the term "soulmate", so easily thrown around for anyone one has known for more than five minutes.

This is what really touched me, moved me to tears and emotional pain. I am always fascinated by strong emotional attachment because I don't think I have felt it truly, powerfully since I was "just a kid" myself.

But this book also made me think about my own yearning for an "artistic" life as a teenager. Do all teenagers yearn for a bohemian life of creativity and social freedom? I know I did. But in hindsight my desire for stability was much more powerful than any artistic daydreams I may have harboured. Like Patti, my practical side took control. In her case she was able to balance and find room for both. But it was a different time.

She speaks of the artistic force which drove both her and Robert and it is certainly not something I felt very strongly. This force was everything to them; that they eventually found critical and financial success was more good fortune than pure talent. Many equally talented people fall by the wayside for a myriad of reasons.

I really enjoyed this book, it had a strong emotional impact on me. I haven't been Patti's biggest fan. Apart from loving her collaboration with Bruce Springsteen "Because the night", her "Pissing in a river" from the Times Square soundtrack and the recently discovered "Redondo Beach" from her first album "Horses" I haven't delved deeply into her music. But her story really surprised me, not only is she not who I guessed she might be but she writes beautifully; I was left wanting more yet emotionally both buoyed and devastated.

Cooking with DKG: Episode 742

2011-10-26T08:23:00.001+11:00

I have so many thoughts swirling around, ready to pop out as a blog post, but no time to coherently master them into submission. So you'll need to put up with a quick recipe instead, because god knows there aren't enough recipes swirling about the cyber world.

This isn't anything ground breaking just a combination of some of my favourite flavours and the result of reading a dozen recipes featuring the words Smoked Salmon and Ricotta.

Quick Salmon, Ricotta and Tomato Pasta

500g pasta
200g Smoked Salmon
1 punnet cherry tomatoes, halved or whole (as you like)
2 cloves garlic, crushed or finely chopped
Zest of 1 lemon
1 Tablespoon olive oil + extra for serving
1Tablespoon butter (homemade in the Thermomix is nice - ha ha)
2-3 Tablespoons Ricotta
2-3 Tablespoons Sour Cream
Handful of parsley
Salt and Pepper

Cook pasta. Drain.
Return pot to low heat.
Add olive oil and butter and garlic. Cook for a minute or two, stirring.
Add tomatoes, zest. Cook for a minute, stirring once or twice.
Add smoked salmon, ricotta, sour cream, parsley. Stir until ricotta and sour cream have combined to a smooth sauce.
Add cooked pasta, salt, pepper, extra olive oil to taste. Heat through briefly while stirring.
Serve.

* This quantity gave us dinner for four plus enough for lunch for Big Jay. Probably we could have squeezed out two lunches if we weren't such greedy little piglets last night.

I love these flavours. The lemon zest really gives it a boost. It's a warmer months style of pasta for when you're sick of spag bol (I rarely get sick of it but...). Will said he wanted to eat it every night which is a pretty good endorsement.

Obviously you can add whatever you have in the fridge: frozen peas, rocket, baby spinach, capers, make it with sliced chicken or proscuitto instead of salmon. We had it with funky little pasta shapes I bought at Costco which look a little like shark eggs or alien pods but I think it would work with any type of pasta at all.

Enjoy!

Sorry Day

2011-10-13T19:43:00.001+11:00

Yesterday was a very sorry day. I am sorry that such unspeakably bad legislation was passed by the government of the country I live in and love so very much. I am sorry that we have a government that continues to make bad decisions pretty much every day of the week. I am sorry that so many people believe this legislation and this tax will help the environment in any way. I am sorry that this government won't grow some balls and admit that this is little more than a tax grab. I am sorry that so many people believe that it's better to do a stupid "something" rather than a realistic nothing. I am sorry that people keep saying they now have hope for the future of their children and grandchildren. I am sorry that these people don't spontaneously combust. I am sorry that something magical didn't occur in the last few months to save us from this bad thing. I am sorry that I don't have the guts to have organised a coup and installed myself as the benevolent dictator of this woe begotten country. I am sorry that there isn't a federal election being held this Saturday.

I am sorry that in 20, 50, 100 years time when the Emperor's nakedness is revealed and history will show all this insanity for what it is, there won't be a Sorry Day and that Kevin Rudd or his future clone won't shed crocodile tears for the damage done.

Crazy, Stupid, Schlock

2011-09-30T07:31:00.001+10:00

All the signs were good. Cute title. Great reviews. Solid cast, including Julianne Moore who I really love (or at least loved deeply in The Hours....but come to think of it I'm not sure what else I've loved her in...hhmmmm). A rare kid-free night out at the movies and a movie Big Jay was reasonably happy to see though it is definitely on "my" side of the movie choosing ledger being a chick flick.

Before the movie even started I experienced two conflicting emotions. Happiness at being in the comfort of VMax, which has a huge screen and super comfy "couple" seats, and an ice cream in hand. Anger at the ridiculously cold air conditioning which was blowing a full scale icy gale above my head. I sent Big Jay out to complain and he was assured it would be turned down once the movie started (???). Well it was and it wasn't. The a/c kept cycling between freezing and off meaning I was constantly aware of being uncomfortable.

Anyway, I've put off talking about the actual film long enough. Maybe it's me but I feel like I've written a variation of the same review too often in recent years "good idea poorly executed". Basically it was the usual "love is tough but conquers all in the end" schmaltz. I can stomach that concept if it has something else going for it. I want some wit, some great dialogue, some brilliant acting, a "twist" that I don't see coming from five minutes into the movie. Something, anything...

"Crazy, Stupid, Love" had none of these things. The script was cliched, the acting and directing clunky and dull, the story uninspired and unbelievable. I didn't "feel" anything and I didn't believe any of the motivations in the storyline. It was just plain boring.

If it wasn't for Ryan Gosling's Jacob and Emma Stone's (my goodness she has beautiful green cat eyes) Hannah I would have been tempted to walk out. They were the only two characters I vaguely cared about, the only ones that were remotely interesting. Even the minor part of Hannah's friend Liz was more interesting (and had better things to say) than the major characters of Steve Carrell's Cal and Julianne Moore's Emily.

I just didn't "buy" any of it, it didn't say anything to me... I am so sick of unimaginative dross being hailed as something new and wonderful. Speaking of saying anything Big Jay is away for the weekend and I feel I might have a date with John Cusack and Ione Skye coming up...at least I know that Cameron Crowe could write movies which mean something to me.

Anniversaries

2011-09-09T19:52:00.001+10:00

This is the weekend for big anniversaries. The date 11 September has a lot of significance for us for two reasons.

On the Australian 11 September 2000 we arrived home from Guatemala with Will. It was exactly a week before the opening ceremony for the Sydney Olympic Games and we shared our flight from LA with the Brazillian Volleyball team. I'll ever forget the group of giants crammed into their cattle class seats, their knees awkwardly sticking out into the aisles.

Getting off that plane I was overwhelmed with so many different emotions. Mainly exhaustion. Long distance travel with a 16 month old baby we had known for less than a week was a totally new experience for me. I was probably bordering on hysteria, if I'm honest.

However coming through the gates was amazing. My family was there and a whole bunch of friends, especially those who had recently brought home their own boys from Guatemala. In some ways we were all the walking wounded; survivors of an ordeal which had left us all exhausted, frustrated and confused. Yet we had all come through and triumphed....

It is hard to describe how I felt holding my gorgeous little boy, my longed for, dreamt of son. The little boy who had waited for us for 16 months, neglected in a dirty cot in an orphanage in Guatemala City. Disbelief that he was real, that we were together, that bureaucracy had been overcome and we were home.

There is a photo of our group at the airport, holding our children, beaming. I adore that photo. It is meaningful and poignant.

My dad drove us home to our little house in Lisarow. It was clean and peaceful and quiet. And strange. We had been fighting a battle over three long years and now we had returned with the "spoils". It was hard to accept. The anti-climax was enormous. How to live in peace when you have been slowly conditioned for war?

A year and one day later, in a different house, our new house, we awoke to the horror of what was to become 9/11. September 11 changed our lives and the lives of most people around the world.

What a surreal day it was. To this day, despite 10 years going past, I can't accept what I saw that day. I so clearly remember turning on the early morning news that day and looking straight into an image of the first plane flying into the first tower. My brain reeled, at first thinking they were showing something from a sci-fi movie, but knowing instinctively that something was terribly wrong.

The next few weeks went by in slow motion. I became addicted to CNN, staying up until 1, 2, 3am... then rising at 5 am to watch again. I felt I needed to see what would happen next. It felt so important to see, to know...

So for us 11 September has a double meaning. It is the day our family changed forever and the day the world changed forever. The day our dream came true and the day the world woke to a nightmare.

Lest we forget.

The heartbreak of a sad old cow

2011-09-05T22:03:00.001+10:00

One of life's little pleasures for me is the Pocket Profile section in the AFL magazine "AFL Record". At each game we attend Big Jay buys the magazine and flicks through before the game. Will has also started reading it end to end.

I have a brief look but always look forward to the Pocket Profile, enjoying a moment to read about the selected player.

Well imagine my thrill when this week's player was none other than Jesse White. It's a well documented fact that I have turned into a dirty old perv in my old age, with a specific weakness for young Swans. This year ex-champion basketballer Jesse is my drool worthy object of choice. His tattooed arms often feature...oh, never mind.

Back to the Pocket Profile. Imagine how pathetically pleased I was when I read this:

How would your best friend describe you? Honest, caring and fun.

Oh, how sweet.

Three things you would like to do after your footy career. Travel the world, start a family, catch up with old friends.

Oh my goodness, where have you been all my life? In kindergarten... oops.

Can this man/god get any better? Well, no. It was all downhill at that point.

Best book read: The 50th Law by 50 Cent.

Holy shit. From such highs we hit the lows. 50 Cent! Really?!

But wait, there's more.

Favourite band/recording artist: Lil Wayne.

Bloody hell. Talk about a major bummer.

Luckily there's not a lot of literary criticism going on in my fantasies.

To quote Dianne Weis' character in the wonderful "Bullets Over Broadway": "Don't speak..."

That syncing feeling

2011-09-05T21:27:00.001+10:00

Syncing has been on my mind a lot just lately. Mainly because I just can't get my damned iPhone to sync with my damned work PC. Technology is amazing except when it fucks up and leaves you bemused, confused and downright frustrated. One thing I've learnt though is that one way or another it will get resolved and life will go on.

But that's only one sort of syncing I've been pondering. Human syncing... now that's a much harder thing to achieve. Have you ever considered how difficult it is for any of us to connect, both in the bigger, deeper sense of the word but also just in the day to day to way?

I am sometimes awe struck by how it is that we meet the people who will become our significant others and also our precious friends; how those connections are made is a concept that never ceases to amaze.

Fate. I guess that's what human syncing is. The alignment of the planets so that two people can meet and not just pass each other by in the fast moving stream of our busy lives but acknowledge each other, connect, see their commonalities and develop a desire to explore who that other person is. It's a chemical reaction that is magical and intangible. Why this person on this day and not that person on that day?

But on a day to day basis, with the people we already know, syncing is a different sort of challenge. It's tough being on the same page at the same time. Each day we go through a myriad of different emotions and energies.

You want to talk, I don't. I want to have sex, you don't. I want to stay home at the end of a long week, you want to go out to party. Each day we compromise, we make a supreme effort to sync or we withdraw and push away, the effort to sync beyond us at that moment.

I'm surprised by how much significance the word "sync" has in life. It's not just about iTunes and iPhones. It's about people connecting, and after all, what else is life all about.

Just saying "no".

2011-09-01T20:26:00.001+10:00

I've been following Nancy Regan's advice and just saying "no", a lot... And bugger me sideways it's hard. Welcome to my pity party.

Big Jay and I are on a concert fast and it's driving me bonkers bananas. We've let ourselves go, concert-wise, the last few years and this diet is hard to tolerate. We have spent the gross national product of a small African nation (or roughly half of the money wasted on ridiculous Labor party schemes in recent years) on entertainment and it was time to reign in that wayward brumby.

In the last couple of months or so I've had to (so very reluctantly) press DELETE on emails offering tickets to the following performers:

John Cleese
Alan Davies
Dylan Moran
Eddie Izzard
Alan Ball
Tim Minchin
Meatloaf
Cold Chisel
Joan Collins (just kidding)
David Sedaris
How To Train Your Dragon (for the kids of course)
Any number of events at Crave (Food Festival)
A few others I have forgotten

I have even forgotten to buy tickets for Taylor Swift which I had promised Little Miss M and now there are only single tickets or seats in the high altitude section available (and I refuse to pay $140 each for those).

I know the Chili Peppers will tour sometime early next year and I won't be saying "no" to those particular tickets... Except if they tour in the first three weeks of April when we embark on the re-named MEDIUM sized trip to Guatemala and Orlando.

Which is the main reason we are counting the pennies... Harry Potter World won't pay for itself you know.

Things that make you go "Hhhhmmmm....?"

2011-08-29T09:57:00.004+10:00

This email arrived in my In Box this morning. Just your run-of-the-mill scam email. I just found Category 11 interesting. All the other categories seem to include things which logically go together, but number 11? Any thoughts?

Sir/Madam,

The Government of Ghana under the auspices of ECOWAS, in West Africa , has published a bill recently inviting all reputable foreign contractors/manufacturers of high and good quality product which few of the needed items are mentioned below.

Please get back to me if you can handle any of the below mentioned items in a large quantity and if your product that your company are manufacturing did not fall in the scope of the few mentioned items below,please kindly send us your website and complete company details so that we can go through your website to check if you have any of the 72 needed items withing the range of your product in your website.

1. Hospital Wheelchairs,Bed sheets and Pilow cases

2. Lawn Mowers/Knapsack Sprayers

3. Pharmaceutical products

4.Aniaml Feeds/ingredients

5. T-shirts/Caps

6. Rugs and Carpets.

7. Medical and Laboratory Equipments.

8. Analytical scales

9. Surgical instruments:Syringes,Needles,Scissors etc.

10.Fishing Equipments/Tackles.

11. Condoms and breakable plates.

12. Treated mosquito net.

13. Water Purification Equipments.

14. Agrochemicals Products.

and many more other products not listed please send us your website.

Note that Tender is open to all eligible foreign contractors from eligible source countries as defined in the guidelines of the procurement Board of the Republic of Ghana.If you can handle the supply of any of the above items, get back to me for more detail, i am a commision and accredited agent.

Thanks,

Mr.Koffi Mensah
No:23 Airport Road,Cantonment
mensahkoffiagencygh.ltd.mailbox
Tel:+233-5414-37668

Cyber Dinner Party at Chez DKG

2011-08-28T20:58:00.001+10:00

Since I'm suffering from total writers' block and don't want to be bothering you with my anti Climate Change bollocks, anti Labor government rants (enough of that on FB) I thought I'd write about my other favourite subject right now: food.

So here are the two recipes I'd make if you were popping over for a quick Sunday night dinner. Strangely these were the two things I did actually make today; the former for our dinner, the later to bring to playgroup.

Pasta with Chorizo Seafood Tomato Sauce

500g packet of curly fettucine (or pasta of choice)
Big dash of olive oil
500g green medium prawns, peeled and deveined
400g firm fish fillets (I used red snapper), cut into 3cm cubes
2 chorizo sausages medium diced
1 clove garlic finely chopped
6-8 tomatoes peeled and chopped or 2 x 400g tins of chopped tomatoes or combination of both
1 large mushroom or 4-6 button mushrooms finely sliced
Dash of GOOD balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon dried Italian herbs
3/4 cup vegetable stock or water
Zest of 1 small lemon

Cook pasta and set aside.
In a large pot (I use pasta pot) heat oil and add garlic and chorizo. Cook on low-medium heat for a couple of minutes. Turn up heat to medium and keep stirring. Add mushrooms.
Cook until chorizo is becoming crispy and mushrooms have cooked down. Be careful that garlic doesn't burn.
Add tomato, stock, vinegar, herbs and cook for 10 minutes or so, until the sauce thickens and tomato cooks down.
Add prawns and fish, mix through the sauce and simmer for about 5 minutes. Be careful not to overcook.
Once prawns turn pink and curl it's ready. Mix the lemon zest through sauce. Then the cooked pasta. Keep on the heat for a minute or two.
Serve with a sprinkle of parsley or coriander.

Chocolate Orange Tart

1 quantity Almond Shortcrust Pastry (I use the Thermomix - doh! - recipe)
125g Philly Cream Cheese, softened
300ml Thickened Cream
120g Chocolate (I used good quality dark chocolate)
2 Tablespoon Caster Sugar
2 large Free Range Eggs
1 teaspoon Vanilla essence
Zest of 1 Orange
Optional: Pear Jam or Marmalade

Roll out pastry and line an oiled tart tin (20-22cm).
Place baking paper on the pastry and fill with baking beads (??) for blind baking.
Bake at 200deg for 10 minutes. Remove beads and paper. Bake for a further 10 minutes.
Turn oven down to 170 deg.
While the pastry is baking make filling.
Melt Chocolate in the microwave - in 30 second bursts at 80% power.
When chocolate is melted whisk through sugar until smooth.
Add soft cream cheese and whisk until smooth.
Add cream, eggs, zest and vanilla and whisk until smooth.
At this point I spread the pear jam in a thin layer over the base of the tart, then pour in the chocolate mixture. If you're not using the jam just pour in the filling.
Don't over fill. You need a couple of millimeters of visible crust at the edge.
Bake for about 25-35 minutes. You want it to be set but not dry or cracked, it should still look a little wobbly in the centre. Remove from the oven and leave to cool, then chill.
If I have leftover filling I bake in oiled patty tins or muffin tins. It's yummy.

There you go. I hope you enjoyed dinner.

If you give these recipes a whirl let me know how they turn out. The tart is a bit fiddly but I love the Jaffa flavours. The pasta is a real winner, those flavours really zing along.

Bon appetit.

Moving forward

2011-08-07T21:22:00.002+10:00

It's easy in the day to day organised chaos of our lives to overlook the small things. I'm very guilty of this. We're so busy getting through each day, ticking the multitude of tasks off our mental lists, rushing from A to B and back again, that sometimes we don't even SEE each other anymore.

So it's beautiful when something stops me in my tracks and forces me to focus on my children and see them clearly.

I had such a day last week. Nothing special....an ordinary day. When we got into the car that morning Marianna got in, did up her own seat belt and closed the car door. She's never done that before. It gave me a little jolt; she's growing up. Of course she's growing up but I'm usually too busy to notice. It's so easy to fall into the trap of racing through each day, reacting to the negatives (with my own negatives), putting out the grass fires, meeting my family's daily needs but not really connecting.

The small act of doing up her own seatbelt made me look at my daughter, think about her as the little person she is and who she is becoming. She might drive me to drink most days but she is so bright, so feisty, so brave. She is no pushover and hopefully never will be. She is a little firecracker who will go so very far if she learns to harness her emotions.

That same day Will told me he wanted a mohawk. My instant (unsaid) reaction was "no way". ... and then I remembered who I used to be and what I used to dream about my own future and the biggest wave of pride flooded through me. My baby boy, my fragile, vulnerable boy, who I spent so long worrying about...would he ever walk, would he ever talk... is bravely and confidently facing high school next year and wanting a mohawk.

Before our eyes he is discovering who he is, developing a mind of his own, separating from us, becoming his own person. It is scary for me, there's no doubt about that that. But there's also a huge sense of pride and gratitude and relief. How far he's come!

Almost thirty years ago I dreamed about my very own punk baby and now I have one, sort of. Mohawks are hum drum these days, more Becks than Sid Vicious. But that's ok, it's not the haircut that's the real point. It's what his request represents.

Above all else a parent's job is to help their children become independent in the world, to find themselves and their place. Last week I had a few glimpses of my children's progress along the long and difficult road to adulthood. I don't know what the future holds but I'm filled with optimism and hope and a terrifying amount of love for the little people whose lives have been entrusted to my dubious care.

Today seat belts and mohawks, tomorrow the world.

Conceit

2011-07-27T12:20:00.002+10:00

A moment of total conceit last week when the Chili Peppers released their first single from the upcoming new album. It's called (the single that is) The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie.

What's the first thought that pops into my mind? They must have got that idea from my blog. Because I'm sure there's nothing better that Flea, Anthony, Chad and the new guy like doing but making a cuppa and sitting down to read the inane, bordering on insane, musings of yours truly.

I can see the scene now... a song writing session... Anthony bursts in fresh from a yoga session with his current 18 year old girlfriend... Flea is picking out a new rift on his bass.

A: "I have the perfect song for that little bass line..."

F: "Really? Dazzle me, my friend in all things funkadelic..."

A: "Well you know that blog we all read and love...?"

F: "Of course, The Adventures of Deep Kick Girl Down Under... Love it, man... wonder why she hasn't written much lately. Really loved that New York stuff..."

A: "You know I think that's the chick I met when we toured Oz in the early 90s. The one with our asterisk tattooed on her boob. Your were off doing an interview so you didn't get to meet her, dude. She was a hot chick, man [hey, this is my fantasy, alright!]. Too bad I only like underage stick insects..."

F: "Yeah, OK, dude... get on with it... what's the song idea?"

A: "You know the name of her blog... The Adventures of... well we can't use that name ... copyright reasons, etc... but what if we had a song called The Adventures of Rain Dance Maggie? Sort of a hommage to our mutual love of DKG's blog... What do you think?"

F: "Love it, man... Let's get down to work..."

If that's not enough "proof"... how about this line from the song:

"Tugboat Sheila is into memorabilia"

Sheila obviously refers to an Australian girl. That's me, I'm an Australian girl.

The rest of the song is funky nonsense, great tune but can't decipher much meaning from the lyrics. However, a new album means a new tour so there's a huge something to look forward to.

Anyway, what do you think? Am I totally nuts or am I so right it's scary?

Bring on the Nanny State

2011-07-12T09:23:00.004+10:00

It looks like the anti-smoking pendulum has swung to it's highest extremity (short of a total ban) so the government do-gooders are turning their attention to the next batch of nasties: alcohol, gambling and fast food.

Why stop there I ask you. Do you have any idea how many potentially dangerous activities there are which have no government warnings whatsoever? A myriad of potentially lethal and/or cancer and/or heart disease inducing tasks any one of us could innocently engage in at any time without realising the possible consequences.

So I've come up with some warnings which in my opinion are long overdue:

1) DO NOT have a nap in the middle of this road, you may get run over by a truck or Bob Brown on a bicycle.

2) DO NOT tell your friends about how well your new diet is working for you. Quite possibly this diet will soon be found to be potentially harmful to your health. More than likely your friends will want to stick a fork in your eye which could also be bad for your health. [Guilty on all counts, officer.]

3) DO NOT have a job which requires you to sit at a desk for many hours at a time in front of a PC. You will develop an insatiable desire for milky coffee sucked through a Tim Tam "straw" and the need to check Facebook every 10 minutes; the former is bad for your waistline, the later bad for your employment status.

4) DO NOT have a job which requiers you to do any standing, bending, lifting, moving, using any sort of electrical or non-electrical equipment and/or interacting with other humans; all these things have been found to be dangerous to your health.

5) DO NOT have children and/or spend time anywhere near children; it hasn't YET been proven that they directly cause cancer but they really fuck up your mental health and self esteem.

6) DO NOT watch MasterChef; the corny and completely over the top production style and pathetically stomach churning use of celebrity chefs will cause you to scream obscenities at the tv and fight an overwhelming urge to throw a heavy object at the screen (the former could result in a brain anurism, the later in putting your back out - you have been warned).

7) DO NOT eat or drink ANYTHING. At all. Ever. All food and drink can cause you any number of health problems. It is impossible to tell what is the right amount of any type of food or drink. Apart from making your body sick eating and drinking will also drive you mad as every day a different report appears claiming eating pasta is good, tomorrow it's bad; today salt is good, tomorrow it will be bad; red wine will stop you getting heart disease but it will increase your chances of cancer. So best to avoid it altogether, much easier that way.

8) DO NOT breathe (just to be on the safe side). Air contains lots of bad stuff, pollution, particles of possibly cancer causing materials which haven't been identified yet, farts which will melt the hairs in your nostrils.

I'm no fan of smoking (had a few puffs around the age of 13 but haven't touched the stinky stuff since). I don't drink apart from an occasional glass (or three) of Bella or a cocktail with an umbrella in it while on holidays. I don't gamble apart from a few sweeps tickets for the Melbourne Cup and the odd MultiPick card for the big Lotto draws. But I overwhelmingly resent the creeping Nanny State we are living in. Laws and regulations are aimed at the lowest common denomenator and it is quite simply an insult to our intelligence.

I especially hate the two faced governmental approach; we are happy to take your taxes you smokers, drinkers and gamblers, but we're going to treat you ALL as pathological, rather than accept the reality that only a small number of people have a problem with these habits that seriously effect their lives or health.

Stay out of our lives beaurocrats and "researchers". Life is dangerous, it's risky, it's there to be lived and enjoyed and suffered through; it's not a risk assesment task to be "managed" and controlled.

As you were.

Movie Review: Bridesmaids

2011-06-30T20:14:00.001+10:00

Everybody is loving Bridesmaids and I wanted to love it too. I was out with mums from school, a rare week night outing, a chick flick...it felt so right. The woman sitting next to me (not a school mum) was laughing constantly and hysterically, making me laugh along; often I would stop mid-laugh realizing I was laughing because of my neighbour not because anything genuinely funny was going on.

Sorry, let's backtrack. The opening scene featured my favorite Blondie song "Rip Her To Shreds" and I felt I was going where I wanted to go with this movie. But I wasn't. Don't get me wrong it was OK, a big solid OK, but nothing more. I hate it when I see the potential of a film but the script just doesn't allow the story to be everything it could be.

And another thing, why two hours? Unless a film features hobbits, boy wizards and/or creatures from the planet Pandora there is no reason why they need to exceed 90 minutes, 100 minutes tops. There is nothing you need to tell me about the hilarious goings on of a bunch of bridesmaids that fills up 125 minutes.

While I love Maya Rudolph I found Kristen Wiig slightly annoying. Sure there were a lot of bang on moments but there were a hell of a lot of ho hum moments. I especially struggled with the relationship between Annie and sweet Officer Nathan Rhodes. Just didn't sit well with me, again I blame poor writing.

I'm also probably reaching the end of my tether with bodily function gags; the shock horror disgust factor is starting to wear a little thin. Enough already.

Bottom line: Bridesmaids is reasonable entertainment with potential to be much more so. Unlike a Snickers bar it just didn't satisfy.

Realisation

2011-06-22T06:52:00.001+10:00

I've had a moment of clarity today. My life is no longer "Say Anything" or "Sixteen Candles" or "The Breakfast Club" or even "Reality Bites". It's much more in the neighbourhood of say "Ordinary People" or "Steel Magnolias" and heading towards "Cocoon" and "Driving Miss Daisy".

Hmmm....

New York Picture 14: WTC Site

2011-06-15T07:35:00.006+10:00

New York Picture 13: The Big Day - Part 3

2011-06-14T19:51:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 12: The Big Day - Part 2

2011-06-14T19:27:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 12: The Big Day - Part 1

2011-06-14T19:16:00.003+10:00

New York Picture 11: Happy New York Faces

2011-06-14T19:06:00.002+10:00

New York Picture 10: The Lady herself

2011-06-14T07:56:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 9: View from the Top

2011-06-14T07:33:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 8: Hanging out with King Kong at The Empire State Building

2011-06-14T07:11:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 7: The Dog with the Shoes

2011-06-14T06:59:00.004+10:00

New York Picture 6: Shake Shack at Madison Square Park [Heaven]

2011-06-14T06:48:00.003+10:00

New York Picture 5: Having Fun at Coney Island

2011-06-14T06:21:00.003+10:00

New York Picture 4: Nathan's Hot Dogs - Coney Island

2011-06-13T19:19:00.002+10:00

New York Picture 3: Times Square

2011-06-13T19:04:00.003+10:00

New York Picture 2: Grand Central Station - stunning!

2011-06-13T18:47:00.003+10:00

New York Picture 1: Kicking back in business class

2011-06-13T18:23:00.003+10:00

Hell: The Extended Director's Cut

2011-06-13T07:55:00.001+10:00

At the airport all went to plan. Check in, go to gate, run around looking for last minute suveneirs (at this point let me ask "why don't Americans like tea towels?" and also lots of you are now not getting a pressie because there is bugger all to buy at JFK airport).

Disappointingly we are not upgraded but board nevertheless. Then we wait and wait and wait and wait....

You get the idea. Our plane is delayed by six hours because of thunder storms in the area. We spend most of that time on the plane apart from a brief time off for good behavior when we return to the terminal to refuel. So we spend five and a half hours on the plane before we even take off.

During our "break" at the terminal I ask the super friendly and helpful (ha!) lady at the desk about the fact we are going to miss our flight to Sydney. Without saying a word (like explaining our options or say, acknowledging my presence) she takes my boarding passes and prints out new boarding passes (or so I thought) for the same flight but 24 hours later.

So we finally fly into LAX at 2:00 am local time (that's 5:00 am NY time) very very very tired. No bags we troupe through an almost deserted airport into the cold night. United have offered not one comment or word of support or advice on what our options are. We are on our own and decide to stay the night at an airport hotel and decide what to do in the morning.

The first and only hotel shuttle bus which arrives is from the Marriott and we file on board hoping that they have a room available (you never know when there is a convention of second hand refrigerator spare parts salesmen). Luckily they do and I take a moment to thank the credit card gods who make these difficult life moments manageable and almost pleasant.

Fifteen minutes later we're in our warm, comfy room. Kids are asleep and I'm in bed trying to count my blessings and wondering about the next day and thinking that my nice plans to be home three days before we return to school and work have just been flushed down the loo.

In the morning we put on our dirty clothes (hate that) and go to breakfast. Love a hotel buffet breakfast and have decided I may have a mild addiction to crispy American bacon.

Our initial thought is to keep the room for that day and hang around but then Jay comes up with the idea of going to Universal Studios for the day. At first I thought it would be too much but I talk to the Concierge about it and find out we could leave our stuff there (all two plastic bags of it) and we would be picked up and returned just in time to get the shuttle to LAX. The cost would be only a little more than keeping the room for the day. So we book in an await our pick up bus.

Universal Studios is a really great day out. It's not full of scary rides, just one I think. Everything else is more laid back. There is the great tour (which we "only" had to wait 45 minutes to go on, lucky it was a quiet day) which takes you around the back lots and shows you some of the great old and new sets from movies (like Psycho) and tv shows (like Desperate Housewives). It finishes with an amazing 3D King Kong ride which isn't scary in a roller coaster way but is really fun.

We also loved The Simpsons virtual roller coaster - THE BEST, the Waterworld stunt show, the Animal Actors show and I loved the Ben and Jerry's Churros Ice Cream Sundae. [can you believe I've only put on half a kg during this trip?]

Anyway, it was lots of fun and we were happy and excited as we headed out to get our shuttle back to the hotel.

On the schedule I was given it said we would return to the hotel at 7:30 pm. Great, just enough time to get our stuff and get the airport shuttle in time to check in at 8:30 pm, two hours before our flight.

After we had been driving for about an hour and didn't seem to be getting anywhere near our hotel we asked the driver, a grumpy sort of guy who couldn't tell us who much longer it would be. A little while later we again explained we had to be at the airport at 8:30 and asked how much longer it would be. Again no sensible reply. It almost seemed he was determined to drop off everyone else except us.

You could say I was a little agitated by the time we arrived at the Marriott at 8:30. I believe my words were "thanks for nothing" as we got off the bus. There is a nasty email heading to VIP Tours, Los Angeles... which is a shame because we had such a great day.

At the airport we have some more fun and games, discovering we weren't actually checked in or have confirmed seats. There were a few stressful moments when we weren't sure if we had seats (it was a packed flight) and then if we would able to sit together.

All came together at the last minute and we were seated. Again our flight was delayed by one hour (no explanation given) but finally we were headed home.

Dinner and a good long uncomfortable snooze and then I was wide awake. Let me say that no amount of Matt Damon makes The Adjustment Bureau a film worth watching. On the other hand I was obviously tired and emotional when I shed tears at the end of Country Strong and surprisingly it wasn't because of Gwyneth Paltrow's singing. There are some good things about long haul flights and getting to watch the entire first series of Laid on my iPad was a real bonus. Love that show, great writing... but I do have a soft spot for anything involving market research... can't wait for season two.

So we arrived home on Sunday morning, just over 24 hours behind schedule. Our lovely friend M had stocked us up with food basics meaning I didn't have to head straight out for the shopping. We got stuck into unpacking and washing but lethargy soon caught up with me.

Getting into bed to watch the Swans vs Richmond game was a fatal mistake and I was fast asleep half way into the second quarter. I got up at 9:30 to find Jay asleep on the sofa and the kids in bed. Slept until 2:30 or so. Dozed a bit. Then the kids and Jay woke up and we've all been awake fully since about 4:30. Bum. Means we'll crash early again today.

Well that concludes our excellent New York adventure. Despite the rather shitty ending all's well that ends well and we had a wonderful time and are home safe and sound ... So who could ask for more.

Will load photos later today.

Normal transmission will return when I can be bothered.

Hell

2011-06-13T06:44:00.001+10:00

If you are of the god bothering persuasion you might be wondering what hell is like, after all it is one of the two major options awaiting you when you shuffle of this mortal coil. Am I right?

Well, I'm here to tell you exactly what to expect. You will spend eternity in a people mover, make and model unspecified, with your husband and kids. It will be a scorchingly hot day and the a/c will be making the smallest dent in the ambient temp. Your kids will be sitting in the back row constantly whinging about how hot it is, you will be trying to reassure them but your motherly warmth will fade after the 300th time.

The driver of your eternal vehicle will be a homicidal Mexican who will think it's appropriate to fill up while you are all in the car, despite already being late. He will then turn up the Latin American pop music to 11 and proceed to drive in a style I like to refer to as SEVENTY MILES STOP!!! This involves screaming down the highway and slamming down the brakes just as you are about to run into the back of the car in front.

Did I mention he won't help with the bags because, well, you know, being a scum sucking waste of space is pretty exhausting and he just can't afford to exert the energy on anything like helping his passengers.

So where was I?

I'll have what she's having

2011-06-13T06:27:00.001+10:00

Thursday morning we finished packing and headed over to J's and M's for our final day in NY. Dad and Irina arrived and we all headed to Houston Street on the subway.

Katz' Deli is famous for the "I'll have what she's having" scene from "When Harry Met Sally" but it should really be famous for having really great Jewish style food and a really cool atmosphere.

It's really old style New York cafeteria, a big room with basic furniture, a giant deli counter along one side and a ticketing system run by the yellow ticket Nazi.

What a way to finish our NY adventure! Big Jay got a famous Reuben sandwich with pastrami (which was huge and delicious). The kids got cheeseburgers which they confirmed were "the best" and I got a chili dog which is a hot dog with beef chili all over it. Americans do hot dogs well, really well, which I have always thought is a no-brainer. What's a hot dog? A good frankfurt sausage on a decent fresh bun with your choice of accompaniments. Easy. Not here in Oz. As veterans of most sporting venues on the East coast we know that hot dogs are a way of catering companies saying "screw you, suckers". But I digress.

My chili dog was yummo as was everything else I tried from other people's plates. I especially love the plates of pickles they bring to the table when you arrive. Two different types, both delicious. The other thing I tried was a New York Egg Cream, which I thought sounded like a custard dessert of some kind but was actually a milk shake with a spritz of Seltzer water in it. Not bad but a bit strange.

We came out of there stuffed and walked straight over the road to the Italian ice cream laboratory where we stuffed down some gorgeous ice cream (well it was a really hot day). Too hot to walk anywhere we took the subway back to Brooklyn and waited for our car service car to head to the airport.

Goodbyes (I HATE long, drawn out farewells) and the car arrived. It didn't fit all of us and the luggage and this is the exact point where things turned into a big steaming pile of manure.

More randomness

2011-06-09T12:18:00.001+10:00

I have noticed how good or reasonable the cost of living is here compared to Sydney. This surprises me as I have always thought New York would be an uber expensive place to live. It isn't. If you have a medium to good salary you can live quite well here. Real estate is comparable to Sydney, food (groceries, fresh food and restaurant/take away) is considerably cheaper than in Australia and of course the choices are much more varied. Let's not mention that you can buy five delicious golden bananas for $1.00 to us banana starved Aussies. Taxis are dirt cheap as is public transport; both are much more user friendly. I can easily see how people can get by without cars. From what I've seen, around Brooklyn at least, it is much more of a local community lifestyle, not as shopping center based as we are in Sydney. In fact I haven't actually been in a mall these past two weeks, except the one across from us which is just Target and a few other stores, a rather odd mall and not very welcoming or user friendly.

I think it would be a tough life here on a low wage and there are lots of people, particularly in service industries, that would be in that range. However, the same goes for Sydney. I guess it's no fun anywhere without enough money. Der, KB, how about pointing out the bleeding obvious. I'm so good at it.

The dog situation, which I have written about before, is noteworthy. There are dogs everywhere but I have not seen dog poo on the street. It is strange because the streets are actually quite dirty, people aren't great about putting their rubbish in bins and it is often swirling along the streets and public bins are often overflowing. But almost no dog poo. Peculiar. We have seen many dogs in shops, trains, buses and being pushed around in dog strollers. It isn't just the Paris Hilton types who have tiny canines, old women, young men, mums, dads, everyone. No demographic has been spared from the dog phenomenon. Jules tells me about seeing a woman getting her nails done with a giant dog at her feet who got bored and climbed up into her lap during her pedicure. Things that make you go "hhhmmmmm"!

Guns. I haven't seen any but they have been on my mind. Walking to the station the other day there was a young man who may or may not have been assaulting a young woman in broad daylight near the local station. It didn't look like a nice situation, whatever was happening. I was concerned but felt very intimidated by the idea that he would more than likely have a gun. So we didn't interfere but I felt badly about our cowardice and still do.

Ok, now for the elephant in the room. Tomorrow we are leaving and I don't know when I'll see my sister again. That's the reality and it's not a jolly thought. But I can't say I'm feeling super sad. Why? Most likely denial, I think I have a strong case of it. Also I am more or less used to her being overseas as she has been on and off for the last few years. Also email and Facebook make regular, almost constant, contact a normal part of our lives, even when we're living in the same city. It's not like we need to wait six months for the ship to arrive carrying the handwritten letter. What we're doing, thinking, (importantly) eating, is always updated on FB which may be a grating social phenomenon but is fantastic in this case.

Sure I will miss our outings, shopping, yum cha, cooking classes. All the things we love to do together just won't be a part of our lives anymore. Luckily we both lead busy, interesting, fulfilling lives so it won't be a case of sitting around pining for each other. But it is undeniable that we will each have a JB and KB sized hole in our lives.

Long distance travel is possible but not all that easy or affordable on an all too regular basis. I think I will need to start donating my charity money to super fast air transport research rather than all those sick kiddies I keep supporting. Let someone else fund the cure for cancer, I need fast, affordable travel to New York.

But seriously Jules and I have a bond which no amount of distance can dilute so I prefer to look at this situation as a minor annoyance rather than as a serious hardship... and I believe that none of us know what the future holds so you just never know, my New York super modeling career could be just about to take off and then she'll be visiting me in my Manhattan pad all the time.

Love you sis. I know you and M will have a beautiful and fascinating life together and I can't wait to see what the future holds.

Hot, damn hot

2011-06-09T10:58:00.001+10:00

What a day. It took a while to get out of the house this morning, everyone tired and/or cranky and/or sick. We thought we'd just have a quick breakfast nearby but ended up walking many blocks to the French Cafe we had brunch at last weekend. Again the food was lovely but we had to hike back to the train station which was not fun because of the heat.

We wanted to go to Central Park today and Big Jay wanted to visit the Dakota Building where John Lennon lived and died. It was not the best day for such an adventure with the temperature being around 93 degrees (or 34 degrees to you and me). It felt much hotter where we were; really hot, can't go on living hot. Nevertheless we managed to walk 20 or 30 blocks and around the Strawberry Fields area of Central Park with two whiney kids. Please send medals to the following address...

The heat made it difficult to really enjoy the excursion but I'm glad we managed to see the Dakota Building which has special meaning to Jay, being a huge Beatles fan.

We returned home around 4pm, hot, sweaty and generally over it. We plonked the kids in front of the tele and hit the packing. Then we dragged ourselves out again for a quick (and miserable, thanks to Marianna) pizza and pasta dinner at one of the many local Italian joints.

It's now almost 9pm and the packing is just about all finished. A few last minute bits to do in the morning once we're dressed and ready to go.

The plan is to go to Jules' place in the morning, leave our bags and head to Katz' Deli in Houston Street (made famous in "When Harry Met Sally") for lunch. We'll then head to JFK Airport at about 3pm to make sure we have lots of time to buy crappy souvenirs for our friends back home... you have been warned.

We'll be arriving at Sydney Airport around 6am on Saturday morning. Luckily we'll have the long weekend to recover from what will undoubtedly be horrific jet lag.

Thanks for reading about our New York adventure. Good night.

Another big day

2011-06-09T00:39:00.001+10:00

Yesterday was another big day and with the kids and I all being sick I am frankly surprised we made it through and managed to have a wonderful day.

After a slow start (Jay had left earlier for his big shopping day - he netted one, not so cheap, work shirt - he's such an amateur) the kids and I set off for The Bronx Zoo. The Bronx inspires images of mean streets populated by even meaner people but it seems to be just another neighbourhood now; probably a little bleaker than the area of Brooklyn we're in but nothing terrible.

Luckily the train to The Bronx runs directly from our local station so we just had to get on here and ride directly to the zoo. What a lovely little zoo it is. Lots of trees, so it's very shady and lots of interesting vantage points to see the animals from.

We loved the little monorail which took us around the Asia display, complete with commentary. My favourites were the gorillas, the mongoose, the aardvarks, the tapirs. Sadly we didn't find the sloths before we ran out of time. The kids loved having a ride on a camel and the Bug Carousel and the Butterfly House.

One thing I confirmed was that all zoos, worldwide, must have the same policy of offering only overpriced, third rate food. I don't mind paying extra if it goes towards the upkeep of the zoo and helping the animals but surely they can at least provide decent junk food of McDonalds type quality. It's annoying to pay $17.00 for a cardboard container of cold chicken strips and lank fries and an almost inedible chicken roll. The orange Icee was good though.

We then headed back on the train so I could drop Will off at Grand Central Station to meet Jay and Dodo so they could head off to their baseball game. GCS at 5:00pm is madness!

Marianna and I had to head back to Brooklyn to meet up with Jules, her gorgeous friend Ruth and mum and David for dinner. I realized I didn't know what train to get to that part of Brooklyn. Went to wait for a cab, couldn't get one. Went back to the subway, thinking I'll get our usual train and get a cab when we got there. On the train I studied the map and realized with two train changes we could get to the correct stop near the restaurant. Poor Marianna, she was so stoic (not her natural position, especially since she was already hot and tired) as I dragged her all over the subway.

Finally we got off at the right stop and only had five blocks to walk. Sheesh! It was all worth it to eat at Buttermilk Channel. Strange name, wonderful food. By the time we arrived the others were already tucking into the most devine salad of lettuce and duck skin croutons and gorgeous pate. We all ordered the famous fried chicken which arrived in an obscenely huge serve (three large pieces but it looked like a mountain when it was coming towards us). It was served with fresh, crunchy coleslaw and waffles with maple syrup - hmmmm? Sounds weird, tastes amazing. I didn't think I'd get through it all but rest assured I ate every morsel.

And then followed it with a decadent Pecan Pie Sundae. I KNOW! Not sure how I managed but I did. Felt like a snake that had swallowed a goat. But we then walked about a dozen blocks which helped the gross amount of food settle.

Mum and David are staying another few weeks and then mum is heading to Europe for a month so I said my goodbyes to them and to Ruth and we headed home on the now very familiar subway.

My cold really hit it's peak last night and I felt like a big pile of poo by the time we got home. I put M to bed and waited for Jay and Will to get home. They got home about 11pm, full of excitement and great stories about their first trip to the baseball. Then Will and I snuffled and sweated through a night of broken sleep.

Will seems fine this morning and I'm not too bad. It's going to be about 36 degrees here today so I'm not sure how we'll manage our day out to Central Park. Our last full day. Hopefully we'll manage to sneak in a frozen hot chocolate at Serendipity today.

Yesterday

2011-06-08T00:09:00.001+10:00

It's Tuesday morning and the kids and I are a little under the weather. Jay arrived here with a sore throat and now we have all come down with some sort of non-specific headachey, sore throat thing. Possibly air conditioning combined with hay fever combined with strange sleep...

Anyway Sunday was fairly quiet. It was cool here and the picnic J and M had in mind for Prospect Park didn't eventuate. Jay went into Times Square (his favourite place, I think) with Will and Marianna and I walked around the local area and had brunch.

Then late in the afternoon we headed to J and M's for a sausage sizzle. We finally got to taste Marvin's sausages and home cured bacon. So good! We hung out for a little while but were really tired and headed back fairly early.

Yesterday we struggled to get up but finally headed into Manhattan to meet Jules at Century 21 to take back one of the dresses I had bought the other day. Nothing happens quickly at that place and it took forever to get out of there (especially after Marianna came out with three new pairs of sandals for next summer - thanks to her generous aunty - and a handbag which every six year old needs).

Next stop was the fabulous Chelsea Market. What a great place. So much character! So many great places to eat and/or buy top class ingredients. First a stop at Anthropologie which is the most beautiful store for women's clothes, accessories and homewares. Not only are their products gorgeous and wonderful quality but their shop is just beautiful. Came away with lovely sandals and two pairs of pants (half price - yeah!).

Then onto The Lobster Place for lunch... The most devine seafood shop you'll ever see. Not only the freshest fresh seafood but a magnificent array of sushi, giant pots of different types of seafood chowders and made to order lobster, crab and shrimp rolls.

We loaded up with two trays of sushi, a shrimp roll, a lobster roll, crab club sandwich and a small pot of lobster chowder. Everything seemed to come with extras of coleslaw and chips so we had a huge feast.

After stuffing ourselves and begrudgingly walking past the yummy cupcake and ice-cream shops (aware of our dinner booking) we walked through some of the meatpacking district and onto The Highline. I had never heard of this area before... It is a disused train line which runs high above ground and close to the water. It has been revived and rejuvenated into a wonderful area to stroll and enjoy the quirky views of Manhattan's West Side. There are gardens, places to sit, places to dream and think. Really a wonderful, creative use of unwanted public space.

At this point we were getting hot and tired, the kids needed the loo desperately and we rushed into a Starbucks before taking the Subway home for a brief rest before dinner.

Dinner was at Frankie's, Jules' favourite place to eat in Brooklyn. Apart from the kids being unwell, tired and cranky it was a great evening. Lovely, simple Italian food and lots of it. I just couldn't deal with the carb overload. Probably shouldn't have eaten so much of the gorgeous bread before the meal.

This morning we are loafing around trying to muster the energy required to get us to The Bronx Zoo. Jay has gone into Manhattan for his shopping day with M, so it's just me and the kiddos today. Better get organized.

Tonight Will, Jay and Dodo are off to see the Yankees vs The Red Sox at Yankee Stadium. I can't stand baseball but it should be a fun "cultural" experience for the boys.

Random

2011-06-06T05:00:00.001+10:00

Brunch is big here. Our local cool street is 5th Avenue and it has countless places to eat - from take away holes in the wall for juice and coffee to restaurants and cafes of all sorts. I have really enjoyed walking around here the last couple of mornings, window shopping, people watching and eating. Is there any better way to spend a weekend morning (that doesn't involve Robbie Williams and nudity)?

This is a really diverse neighbourhood with old timers mixing it with young, hip singles and yummy mummies with their yummy hubbies and yummy kiddies (or to be more truthful underfed middle class hippies in birkenstocks and organic clothing, eating tofu - or "protien" - and drinking fair trade coffee). It takes all sorts and I love that.

After Marianna and I had our brunch of bagels and coffee/iced tea we found a tiny farmers' market and bought giant punnets of sweet New Jersey strawberries and a tub of amazing fresh pickles. Super friendly pickle dude gave us lots of yummy things to sample and Marianna came away with a bag of green olives to munch on on the way home.

They love dogs here. REALLY! Dogs are everywhere. Because they are mostly allowed to have pets in apartments people come out of tiny apartments with huge Great Danes. Mainly they have little dogs here, tiny little dogs, microscopic dogs. You need special magnifying glasses to see some of these dogs.

There are pet businesses everywhere. Most cafes have outdoor seating that's pet friendly or at least somewhere to tether your dog. Shake Shake even has a Pooch-ini which is a shake for dogs which has a dog biscuit blended into it.

The other funny thing is child care centres in shopfronts along the main shopping streets. You can drop off your kid, your dry cleaning and pick up your organic fair trade soy latte in a bio-degradable reusable cup all on the same block. I know we're starting to get a few centres in high rises and in big shopping centres but these seem funny to me.

More random thoughts later.

What we've all been waiting for

2011-06-05T23:49:00.001+10:00

We were a little concerned that our driver didn't seem to know where we were heading for the wedding ceremony, even though when we got there it seemed to be a very popular Brooklyn waterfront area with lots of people enjoying a beautiful day out and quite a few weddings and wedding photo sessions taking place.

Our small group of family and friends slowly gathered and we awaited the arrival of the happy couple.

They arrived together, both looking simply stunning. I could use fluffy words to describe how gorgeous and glowing they both were but I won't.... There will be photos when I come home and can download from the good camera. I have put up one stunning photo from my phone on FB and if you've seen it you'll know how beautiful Jules was and how handsome Marvin looked, with the magnificent Manhattan skyline as a backdrop to their special moment.

It was very sweet that Marvin's best friend officiated at the ceremony (and Marvin will do the same when Dan gets married later in the year).

While photos were taken a man arrived with a tray of ice creams to enjoy while we were waiting. What a super cute idea. A delicious ice cream by the waterfront on a beautiful Brooklyn summer's day. Perfection.

A fleet of cars whisked us off to iCI restaurant where the reception was to be held. From the moment we arrived and had our first drink in the lovely little courtyard, shaded by a pretty tree laced with lights, we knew this was the perfect venue. The restaurant is small, with simple, elegant charm and we had sole use of it. There were rustic bunches of flowers in glass jars and candles flickering everywhere. Even a blackhearted crone like me couldn't help but be touched by the romantic ambience.

Drinks and delicious nibbles in the courtyard; a little pre-reception dancing as the lavender-infused vodka and champagne cocktail went straight to my head. Then dinner at the single long table upstairs. Our place cards were Photoboothed photos of each person - hilarious; much giggling and exchanging of photos as we settled down for dinner.

Because J and M are foodies of the highest order we knew the food would be good and it was. Tiny delectable oysters with a champagne sabayon, antipasti featuring the most delicious salami and pickled okra, a spring panzanella salad, a light salad of greens, then the heavy hitters, braised beef brisket and slow cooked lamb shoulder, both with beautiful sides. A superb meal, easy and relaxed, platters of food passed from person to person amidst much aahhing and mmmming.

After the food came the speeches, all heartfelt and special, funny and touching. Even a bitter and twisted old cow like me can believe in love and romance in the face of so much beautiful sentiment. I was so happy that the DJ was able to incorporate Anthony and the Johnsons' "You Are My Sister" to finish off my little speech, I had been worrying about the logistics of it for ages. It is a song which exactly says, so much better than I can, how much I love my sister and how much hope I have for a wonderful future for her.

One of the terrific things about the evening was the quickly formed friendship which formed between my kids and Marvin's nieces and nephews. While they were shy to start with it didn't take long before they were all playing and eating together, dancing and running around taking photos (with the cameras and special "tasks" provided for each child in their special box - brilliant idea).

The fun rolled on with dancing and drinkies downstairs. The music was great and everyone was up and getting down. Even my dad, who for those who know him is the least likely person I can think of to hit the dance floor, did a fair bit of getting jiggy with it (including some pretty impressive moves, I must say).

A brief break for the cake, a delicious and beautiful croquembouche, then lots more dancing. It was so much fun. Exhausted we finally caught a cab home at about 1:00am (unbelievably both kids were still awake and in a good mood, though Marianna was getting very sleepy). We were actually all starving by this point and Big Jay set off to find a pizza. No pizza to be had (we thought we were in New York, a 24 hour sort of town!) he returned with chicken, cheese and mayo sandwiches, procured from god knows where, I was too scared to ask. We ate them in bed and were all soon asleep.

It's now 9:40 on Sunday morning. I tried to sleep in but just couldn't manage it. Bummer. Everyone else is still asleep. I'm going to clean up (we left the place in an awful state yesterday as we zoomed around getting ready) and hopefully the others will get up soon - I'm starving.

A slow day today. We'll head over to J and M's later for some of Marvin's homemade sausages, which is how this whole thing started in the first place, and then a late afternoon picnic at Prospect Park.... Maybe just squeeze in a quick bit of shopping before then...

These shoes are made for walking

2011-06-05T22:50:00.001+10:00

So much for having a quiet morning before the wedding. We slept in a little and set off for breakfast. They don't seem to do breakfast so much on weekends around here; brunch is more the way things roll here. But after walking eight blocks we finally found a little French bistro happy to let us in a little early.

Breakfast was great. People say you can't get a good coffee in the US. I haven't found that. Every cappuccino I've had has been great; my two main requirements are a hot coffee and a mild, smooth taste, and they have all ticked those boxes. I'm not a fan of bitter, super strong coffee that can do double duty as paint stripper so what I've been served here has been perfect.

Anyway, we introduced them to the concept of "babycinos" which is what Marianna wanted. I have been having a bit of a French toast fest since we've been here and this place did a great version, with super crispy bacon, fruit salad and maple syrup - mmmmmmmmmm.

We walked back towards home thinking we'd look at some of the quirky little shops in the area but they were all still shut, apparently opening after 11am on weekends. So we headed to the big "mall" to see if we could find Will some nice black shoes to wear to the wedding.

We walked all over, bought a few things in Target and I got a pair of purple Converse at DSW, but didn't find anything for Will. So being the mental giants that we are we walked all the way back up the street we had just come from in the hope of finding something in one of the shops we had passed.

Again, we bought a few bits and pieces but no shoes for Will. It was now after 1pm, our day was drifting away and we needed to be ready to leave for the wedding at 3pm. So Marianna and I headed back home, after a quick stop for the best iced tea and chocolate muffin I've ever had, while the boys continued the shoe search.

Marianna and I came home, had showers, washed our hair, got dressed, I ironed the boys' clothes and still no boys. Finally they turned up at 2:15 with a pair of shoes from a shop near Target which we hadn't found on our first visit there. A great pair of black shoes, perfect for the occasion for $16.99 - can't argue with that.

The car came to pick us up at 3:10pm and we only just made it onto the street before it arrived.

So our "relaxing" pre-wedding day turned into a shop-fest with countless blocks walked and not a single minute of hanging out watching crappy tv. Typical.

Hitting the wall

2011-06-04T11:01:00.001+10:00

Feel really tired and homesick tonight. It usually happens about this time. Our sleeping patterns are all over the place and we have been doing a lot every day. We're asking a lot of the kids and, being kids, they are driving us nuts with whining and bad behaviour.

Today we started the day with a bus trip to Jules and Marvin's place and then a multiple-player mani/pedi at one of the gazillion local salons ($20 for a mani and pedi - that's insane!!). Little Miss M had her first proper manicure (not just a mummy special) and sat through like a pro, especially excited about the little flowers she got on a couple of the nails.

Then we subwayed it into the city for lunch (yay, Shake Shack again - not as pleasant an experience as yesterday with us having to get take away as we were so short on time; also, my jelly donut flavoured shake wasn't as good as yesterday's Concrete Jungle). Then a mad rush to the waterfront to start our Circle Line cruise with mum and David and a bunch of J's and M's friends and family.

It was a great cruise with a very informative commentator. But three hours was too long, only because we were all so tired and it wad just too relaxing to sit on the deck on a glorious blue-skied day and watch the magnificence of New York roll by. The Statue of Liberty was much smaller than expected, though much bigger than it looked from the Empire State Building. An impressive and moving monument either way.

By the time we returned to land at 5:00pm we were a little ratty and Marianna's insistence that Jason carry her all the way to the subway (quite a few blocks away) put him in a bad mood. Our trip home wasn't super jolly. Dinner at the tiny sushi place around the corner was lovely but we couldn't wait to get the kids home and into bed.

Now they are both asleep and I'm waiting for a couple of loads of laundry to finish drying before I also hit the shower and head to bed.

Tomorrow is the big day but we don't officially have to be anywhere until just before 4:00pm so a day of pottering around the interesting little local shops in our neighbourhood before we get ready is the order of the day.

Thanks for organizing a wonderful day for us all J and M. Sorry we are such grumps. We love you and know tomorrow will be just amazing.

Working our way through the list

2011-06-03T10:48:00.001+10:00

Another huge day and hard to believe we got through it as we had very strange sleep last night (the kids just wouldn't settle, none of us could sleep - it was very weird, you'd have though we'd all had large red drinks for dinner).

Subway to Union Square which is only a couple of blocks from Madison Avenue and 23rd Street, which is home to THE Shake Shack, nestled in the middle of a sweet little park.

I was skeptical that a burger joint could be THAT good but yes, it can be. Not sure what it is about the burgers... the buns are amazing (I really don't care what their secret ingredient is, sugar, arsenic, cocaine, kryptonite... I'd eat them every day given the opportunity). They are just really delicious and fresh tasting. The fries are very good too, possibly just a great potato cooked in good oil - simple. Now let's talk about my Concrete Jungle shake. I'm drooling just thinking about it. Hot chocolate fudge, banana and peanut butter together with their frozen custard ice cream blended into a super thick thick shake (lucky I'm such a good sucker)...superb and I'd have one again right now if someone would just drop it over for me.

After lunch we met with dad and Irina and headed to the Empire State Building. It's stating the bleeding obvious to say it's a superb building. Everything about it's art deco splendour is awesome. We tried to enjoy the experience but it was tough going with the kids constantly whinging... how long are we going to be here, can we go now, what are we doing next.... AAARRGGHH!!!!!!! How to ruin a perfectly wonderful holiday to New York? Take a couple of ungrateful children along.

Then we decided to head towards Times Square but walked about ten blocks in the wrong direction before we realised and headed back. Half way there we decided to split up. I wanted to take Marianna to the American Girl doll shop on Fifth Avenue and Jay wanted to take Will to the Hard Rock Cafe.

American Girl is a bit of an institution with the idea being to find a doll that looks like you (preferably the child, not the mother, that would be doubly creepy). Then you can buy matching child/doll outfits. You can even take your doll to the beauty salon where you can treat her to a new hairstyle or a "facial" or even ear piercing. If you've been loving your doll too much you can take her to the doll hospital. It's a strange old world we live in.

A major dent in the credit card and a large bag in tow we headed for Grand Central Station and some afternoon tea. Marianna had spied the Magnolia Bakery (yes, of Sex in the City fame, though this isn't the original one) on our previous visit and I had promised her a cupcake. What better way to end a girly doll buying session than with a couple of cupcakes and an iced tea in the beautiful GCS food concourse (that's a fancy word for food hall).

Our subway ride home was memorable because of an African American couple sitting next to us who were straight off the Jerry Springer set. I don't honestly know what they were actually talking about because despite them speaking words that sounded like English the sentences they were putting together was nothing like the Queen's English I am used to. The only thing I could decipher was the man thought he was being good daddy because he supplied his child/ren with candy. It wad a highly entertaining train trip, my main objective not to make eye contact with other passengers in case I started laughing hysterically.

Arriving back in our 'hood (see how I'm fitting right in over here in the U S of A?) Marianna and I walked another half a dozen blocks to find the sports store which sold New York Cosmos (the soccer team you have when you're not having a soccer team) shirt for our friend S. I was starting to near the end of my tether, it was after six, so I rang Jay to see if he and Will wanted to meet us for dinner at the fish cafe which caused the fight between the children a few nights ago.

A quick dinner of yummy fish and another purchase for Little Miss Spoiled Brat at the tiny local kids' clothes shop and we're finally home. My feet are throbbing, The Big Bang Theory is on the teev and I think it won't be long before we all hit the sack.

Later peeps.

Oh, did I mention we saw a dog wearing shoes today? There's a photo to come if you don't believe me.

Shop till I drop

2011-06-02T13:04:00.001+10:00

Today was the day, the long awaited SHOPPING DAY. Big Jay and the kids were off to Coney Island for a day of rides, games and hot dogs (and in case I forget to mention them again they had a wonderful HUGE day, ate lots of crap and did a little shopping of their own).

I took the subway into Fulton Street Station which is on the doorstep of the World Trade Centre site. As I came up onto the street from the subway the worksite was the first thing I saw. Walking towards it made me all tingly and my legs heavy.

As I walked along the street, the sun shining, people hurrying all around me I looked up and tried to imagine how it must have been on that day, much like today. All words seem inadequate, not up to describing what people must have thought as they lived that day first hand. I watched it from the very safe distance of my house in Sydney and it had felt surreal, impossible. Seeing it up close today it felt the same. When I think about the horror my mind shuts down, doesn't want to go there. Marvin's mum was working only a block or two away and she saw people jumping out of the burning buildings as she ran away. My god!!

I stood across the road and looked at the busy worksite, at the building already completed, the one almost completed...and I thought for a long time. Then I went and had a Starbucks white chocolate mocha and a bagel. Well what else could I do?

Soon my dear sister joined me and Century 21 was calling. Whoa baby. That place is something else. Minor designer, non designer and major designer stuff hanging side by side in total chaos. It's a hunter-gatherer experience. Luckily today wasn't super busy, but busy enough. We had to line up to try stuff on and to pay. But I did come away with some great dresses, a top and some cardies (including a RARE one, an Italian brand I really love).

A quick stop in the children's department and we were off to meet mum and David at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. What a trip back in time; so elegant and beatiful. Even the bathrooms were lovely, with a woman who squeezed soap onto my hands and then handed me a towel (did I feel like a doofus for leaving my handbag at the table and not being able to leave her a tip, the bedrock of American society). They have a bar where you can sit and order from a menu of maybe twenty different types of oysters from different parts of the US. Heaven. The ones we tried were lovely (I preferred the East coast to the West coast ones, if anyone is interested).

Lunch over we had to head over to Soho as Jules had an appointment and I wanted to continue with the retail therapy. The Subway was having some sort of meltdown so after a 45 minute wait we headed back upstairs to find a cab. Finally we were back on Broadway.

I went to Desigual, my Spanish sweetheart (discovered in Noosa last year). Some of their stuff is a little left of centre for me but I did get another of their beautiful skirts and a t-shirt (and a free beach bag thrown in). Meeting up with Jules again we had a quick wander around Dean & Deluca, a foodie paradise.

A trawl through Zara, Banana Republic and Bloomingdales didn't provide any new finds but we were exhausted, it was after six o'clock and we decided enough was enough (to be honest I could have done another hour but hoisting my shopping bags around was getting somewhat tedious).

I came home exhausted and with a couple of dud purchases which will need to be returned (what a shame, I'll need to make another trip to Century 21). I have also had the opportunity of trying out the laundry room in the basement. What a pain not to have a washing machine/dryer/clothes line in the apartment. Apart from the cost of $2.00 per load of washing and then drying it's the thought of using big industrial washing machines that are used by lots of other people. Yuck. Not the world's biggest problem though.

Tomorrow is family day in the city. Union Square, the American Girl doll shop, a burger at Shake Shack for lunch. Good night.

Last night...

2011-06-02T11:16:00.001+10:00

Yesterday was a little of control. We had plans to spend half the day in the city with my dad doing a double decker bus touristy trip and then to head back early to have a rest as I was going to Jules' girls' night out.

We walked down Atlantic Avenue to a diner which looked good but was pretty basic. It's true about serving sizes here; an order of eggs comes with lots of bacon, fried potatoes and toast - all for $6.25. The bagels are good here.

Then our first subway trip into Grand Central Station, which is just stunning... I could have stared at that amazing ceiling for hours. A walk to meet dad and Irina at the Waldorf and we were off on our bus tour.

Sitting up on the top deck gave us a great view but also made us very hot and we all realized we needed hats, pronto. So we hopped off at Times Square and spent a fortune at the big souvenir shop.

We then hopped back onto another tour and ended up going through Soho, Greenwich Village, past the WTC site and lots of other interesting places. We had a great guide who was very informative, funny and entertaining. I didn't want the tour to end. It almost didn't as we got stuck at one point waiting for a guy who had left his wallet on the bus during a previous tour to catch up with our bus in a taxi.

By the time we got off and headed back to the Waldorf for a late lunch it was 3:00pm. So much for having a relaxing day and being home early. The Waldorf is a seriously old world classy sort of place, with prices to match (it stands out because food is generally very cheap here). Will's Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich was $15 and he didn't want to eat it because there was no "jelly" and he doesn't like peanut butter (both issues were discussed at length during the ordering process). My ridiculously priced Club Sandwich was very good though.

Then we had to hightail it over to Grand Central Station again to catch our train home. After a long wait we walked in the door at 5:30, leaving me 25 minutes to refresh before heading out for the evening.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the Momofuku Ssam Bar. Momofuku has legendary status with my sister and she loves/worships it's chef/owner David Chang. This bar is part of his empire but not the main restaurant. It's small and very loud and funky (meaning uncomfortable for old fuddy duddys like me).

Our group squeezed (triple emphasize squeezed!) into our table and proceeded to scream into each other's ears for the next few hours. The food was a set menu and each dish was amazing. The sparsely worded menu didn't really provide much of an idea of what we were going to get. All I can say it wasn't a great place if you are either Kosher or a vegetarian. The whole "butt" (pig of course) served sang choy bou style with lots of various accompaniments was a "wow" sort of dish.

It was a welcome relief to fall out onto the street sometime later. Despite New York's stifling hot weather and humidity the air outside was so refreshing after the sweat box which was Momofuku Ssam Bar. After all about half of NY's population was squeezed into an area about twice the size of a phone box.

At this point we decided the night was too young to call it a night and teetered over the road to what Jules called a "dive bar". It was so fabulous and such a contrast. A small, simple, quiet bar which would definitely have been my local had I been living in a parallel universe as a single working girl in NYC. Just the front bar and a small back room, a single female bartender, a jukebox and a handful of regulars (including a super hot guy who looked like RW in a certain light or maybe it was the couple of cocktails I had ingested earlier??).

Things fairly quickly took on a David Lynch film-like quality when a strange little dude came in and befriended us. Then we took another couple of steps into Twin Peaks world when a handful of young Navy boys came in looking for a good time. Jules' friend quickly roped in a couple of them to pretend they were strippers (Jules was morbidly terrified of having a stripper there). These boys were already pissed and one went into a convoluted story about his nickname, gained in Iraq, on account of his hobby of stripping for no apparent reason.

Being a pathetic old worry wart I was a tiny bit concerned this would not end well. Before we knew it Jules and her friend R were sitting out in the small back room being straddled by two cute young Navy boys. I stayed on the outskirts but the horrified look on my mother's face told me things were getting a little crazy. Apparently they weren't but mum was being horrified in advance. I'm fairly sure no wobbly bits saw the light of air.

Soon we called it a night leaving some of Jules' friends to carry on partying and headed home in a cab with a hilarious singing driver. The weirdness continued.

It was a great but thought provoking night. I really loved meeting some of Jules' friends who I had previously only heard about. I enjoyed meeting Marvin's lovely sisters who are as gorgeous and smart as he is (remember what I said about diluting your gene pool by joining our family Marvin).

Seeing the young Navy boys at the bar made me a little sad. They were just like Forrest Gump, young, naive boys from somewhere down south. They had been to Iraq. They were drunk and lonely and looking to distract themselves for a few hours. They didn't seem much older than Will which just made it all the more bizarre. Fresh faces, barely shaving, gentle manners like boys out for the day with their mother. Yet they had probably seen the most horrible things, possibly killed other people. Surreal.

I collapsed into bed and slept properly for the first time since we left home.

Sensory overload

2011-05-31T11:00:00.001+10:00

Not the best night last night. All our sleeping patterns were out and after tossing and turning for hours I got up to find both kids sitting up playing with their DSs at two am. Then the musical beds started and the whinging about being hungry and thirsty. Blah! Finally I managed a few hours sleep but was not exactly chirpy when I dragged myself out of bed just after eight am.

A walk, a bus trip and another walk and we were at Kensington, visiting Jules and Marvin in their lovely pad. Airy, quirky, with gorgeous views... the only thing missing was a tv, a fact the kids (and I) can't quite comprehend.

When mum and David turned up we took a long walk through the amazing old neighbourhood, full of huge old homes and beautiful trees. It was hot and super humid and we were all looking forward to brunch at the "best cafe in New York".

The cafe was ok, nothing more or less. The ordering area was small and crowded, the guy taking the orders slow. The food and coffee were decent, but my cappuccino didn't even come with a metal spoon, just a help-yourself wooden stirrer which looked liked it belonged in a medical practice. Not impressed.

Nevermind. Stuffed, we squeezed into a "car service" car and dropped mum and David home before heading back to our neck of the woods for a late lunch with my dad and his friend Irina, who had arrived last night.

The seafood restaurant we had been anticipating was closed because of the Memorial Day public holiday but we found a great, laid back Middle Eastern eatery across the road and we were set for the afternoon. Drinks, delicious food (two courses for $14 per person - the best hummus I think I've ever had) and great service made for a very enjoyable session two of Meet the Parents.

Next door I found a cool little gift store which is where Gino came from. A sock monkey with a Mohawk - genius!! He is made by a disabled artist in NYC and he is the best thing. He will live on my bed and always remind me of Brooklyn. (picture on my FB page)

We all walked back to our apartment so everyone could have a sticky beak. I was hot and bothered and ready to throw in the towel but I was out voted and we got a car into Manhattan to check out the Waldorf Astoria where dad was staying. The per night rate was so reasonable I thought it must be a shadow of it's former self but it wasn't, it's still elegant and luxurious and truly awesome. The Fawlty Towers connection made it doubly special for us and of course dad had to have the Waldorf Salad last night (apparently they weren't all out of Waldorfs), which he said was delicious.

Despite the whinging of the children (and of my feet) we then proceeded to walk countless blocks to Times Square. Wow, what a mind blowing city. Every adjective I can think of just doesn't come close to describing it's size and awesome-ness. It just goes on forever, as far as the eye can see. Sydney is a big, wonderful city but it's a drop in the ocean compared to NYC. You could walk around every day for a month and not see the half of it.

It is almost daunting. I'm one of those people who struggles to choose my meal in a restaurant with a big menu, always looking at what others ordered and worrying that they made a better choice. NYC is like that. There is so much to see and do and eat, the possibilities are truly endless and as I walked around today I wanted to do it all.

Spotting the M&M's store in Times Square we decided to grab some take home goodies and found ourselves in Hell on Earth. All we wanted were some unavailable in Australia almond M&Ms but we found ourselves in three stories of crazy. It's impossible to believe the choice of sugar coated chocolate inspired crappola one can purchase. I didn't actually see a toilet seat or ear hair trimmer sporting the M&M logo but I'm quite positive such things exist, everything else is there. Having spent about $80 on almond, peanut butter and pink (for Marianna of course) M&Ms we escaped into the stifling humidity of Times Square and the secure understanding we would never set foot in that place again.

So we returned home to Brooklyn and hopefully a better night's sleep tonight. Tomorrow we're heading back to Manhattan and then, tomorrow night, Momofuku. Oh, the sweet anticipation.

The start

2011-05-30T10:48:00.001+10:00

So we landed at JFK safely and in an incredibly good mood. That soon changed when we texted my sister to let her know we'd arrived - early. She was on her way but soon after sent a message to say they had a major petrol (gas in American) leak and were waiting for the cops, fire engines, etc.

We got a cab to my mum's apartment as she had arrived a few hours earlier and my sister had the keys to our apartment.

After a brief wait during which fatigue crept up on us slowly but surely (it was almost midnight local time so god only knows what time our time) Julia and Marvin arrived and we were off to our temporary home. (BTW apart from it being a major pain in the bum they were both fine, it was just one of those annoying, unavoidable accidents.)

The apartment is cool. It's in an old newspaper building which has been converted. Big rooms with soaring ceilings, exposed pipework. Funky mix of eclectic retro furniture. The original of our Pegasus (this is where I got the idea for ours, except this one is four times the size) hangs above the leather sofa.

Showers and bed time followed but our internal body clocks were totally stuffed so we couldn't sleep even though we were utterly exhausted. Finally the children went to sleep and I went off sometime around 3:00am.

Jason woke me at 9:00am and I felt amazingly good. Getting the kids up was difficult but finally we were ready to head off to brunch and to meet Marvin's mum and dad.

We walked through our part of Brooklyn and it is what I love in a neighbourhood. Wide tree-lined streets, interesting old buildings, a mish-mash of shops and businesses. Our brunch cafe was a welcoming combination of hip and earthy, our table in the courtyard surrounded by buildings casting cool shadows amongst the tables. Great food and laid back service added up to a wonderful first meal in NY.

[Yo, I've now eaten grits. It's like polenta, yummy. Nothing like I imagined. Tick of another American cultural mystery unravelled.]

Then we started walking... my favourite part of any holiday. Just walking, absorbing the atmosphere, the sights, sounds and smells.

We made our way to Prospect Park, a fabulous huge space, much like our Centennial or Bicentennial Parks. Grass, trees and lots of people having a great time on a warm weekend day. There were families playing and picnicking, groups of friends playing with frisbees and all sorts of ball games, lots of dogs, bikes and joggers. Just a really happy atmosphere.

More walking and we ended up back at mum's apartment. Then we headed back to the bus stop and back to our part of Park Slope. A goodbye to Jules and Marvin, who were headed to collect dad from the airport, and then a bit of shopping and we came home for a rest.

We probably should not have tempted fate by taking the kids out one more time for a play at the playground across the road and then some dinner but we did. The kids fought over where to eat, not because either of them truly cared but because they were both over tired and ratty and driving parents nuts is obviously what you do when you're tired and ratty.

After a quick and painful Chinese dinner we dragged them home whereby Little Miss M promptly took herself off to bed without a word, followed shortly by Big Jay. Now Will is watching Funniest American Videos and I'm blogging. The weariness is setting in and I think it won't be long before I'm in bed myself.

One thing I've learnt is that Brooklyn is not a suburb, which is what I had believed. It's a city in itself. So saying you are going to Brooklyn is like saying you are going to Sydney, you could be going to Bondi or Penrith.

More Brooklyn sights and good food tomorrow.

Start spreading the news

2011-05-30T07:47:00.001+10:00

...that I love United Airlines.

Weren't expecting that, were you? I haven't had anything good to say about them since we purchased our super cheap tickets for this trip nine months ago. In fact I have been dreading the flights for this whole time. For some reason I held UA in very low regard and contemplated changing our tickets, at whatever cost, on numerous occasions.

However, my fears were unfounded. Our Sydney to LA flight was smooth and straightforward. Sure the staff don't see the need to over mollycoddle us cattle class plebs and obviously there is no clause about smiling at customers in their contracts but we were fed and watered regularly and the plane remained in the sky between take off and landing, which suits my basic air travel requirements.

I have to make special mention of the chicken dish we were given at dinner time. Delicious. Small but very tasty.

Onto LAX. Hmmmmm. Things got decidedly more unenjoyable upon disembarking. We had about three and a half hours between flights and were frankly worried about how we would occupy ourselves for that amount of time. Luckily the lovely people of US Customs have that figured out. They kept us standing in three separate queues for over two hours thus eliminating the need to fill in all that boring down time. Thank you US Customs.

Actually FUCK YOU US Customs. Do you know how much fun it is to stand in a barely moving line with two tired, grumpy children who are both busting to go to the toilet? Yes, it's even more fun than it sounds. By the time we got through I swore I would never again darken the doorstep of our American cousins, ever.

Cross and annoyed with each other and the universe in general we trudged off for a drink and a snack since we knew there was no meal service on this domestic leg of our journey. So $35 and two sandwiches and a couple of drinks later we turned up at our gate.

No sooner had sat down than a message came over the PA asking for my presence at the desk. We rolled our eyes, wondering if they had realized that they had let us through without the compulsory cavity search. Prepared for the worst we faced up to the burley UA man at the desk.

He looked us bedraggled travelers up and down and said the most wonderful words in the English language. "You folks don't feel like flying business class, do you?". My eyes bulged as my brain tried to digest the meaning of this sentence. I glanced at Big Jay. Was this a joke? Were they asking if we wanted to pay for the upgrade? Did they realise we were travelling with two bordering-on-feral children?

"If we have to," Big Jay said and next thing we know we're walking down the special line and being welcomed by the friendly, smiling business class stewardesses (only distantly related to their economy cousins). So began five hours of luxurious relaxation. There's only one thing better than business class and that's FREE business class.

Before you can say "I think you've got the wrong people" we were being offered drinks from a linen lined tray and choosing our dinner from the menu. Smoked salmon, salad, beef rib with freshly grilled asparagus. At one point they apologized that they only had the pasta dish from first class left and would Will be happy with that. He was.

Then some freshly prepared ice cream sundaes with hot chocolate sauce. Did I mention my cocktail and the copious amounts of red wine Big Jay managed to consume? Oh, and the freshly baked choc chip cookies right before we disembarked?

The staff were so friendly it was almost painful, I felt if I had asked for a glass of freshly squeezed Yak's milk they would have said "no problem, madam". It was surreal.

After a nap in our super comfy recliner seats we arrived at JFK relaxed and refreshed but that didn't last long.

Modern Families (or bloody hell, we're off to New York)

2011-05-27T06:22:00.001+10:00

We're packing (imagine a farmyard full of recently beheaded chickens) for our trip to New York. This is our entertainment kit for the plane: one Kindle, one iPad, three iPods, one iPhone, two DSs and a partridge in a pear tree. Well, we are flying United so the base level of entertainment will be equivalent to 1970s era Aeroflot.

I have my usual level of equal parts excitement and anxiety when faced with a long haul flight (with children). But I'm trying to focus on the fact that in just over 48 hours we'll be landing in New York, New York... the city so good they named it twice (like Wagga Wagga and Woy Woy).

We literally don't know where to start, there is so much to see, do and eat. Everyone we meet offers suggestions for the things we MUST do. Two short weeks seems like such a microscopic amount of time in such a wonderous city. I can only calm myself with the thought that this won't be our last visit.

Now that I've discovered a decent iPad blogging tool I will be sharing our Big Apple adventures right here, so stay tuned.

Grinding axes

2011-05-19T08:06:00.004+10:00

We all have an axe (or a few) to grind. They may be trivial or earth shatteringly important but their relevance is only apparent to us and those who love us.

A terrible experience in a restaurant... An hour and ten minutes on the phone to Qantas with a simple request... The incompetence of a government department in processing the adoption of your children.... How long do you have?

I'm getting to my point. The man who took over the Sydney Harbour Bridge last week does not deserve the fame and relevance he's suddenly surrounded with. I don't know his story: bitter custody dispute, DoCS unhelpful,etc. What's new?

What is driving me nuts is that he is suddenly a media darling instead of just being a very naughty little boy. Maybe it's his military background which gives him an air of authority other nutters don't readily possess. Whatever it is, it just isn't on.

To paraphrase an interview I heard with him on Triple M last week: "oh well you inconvenienced tens of thousands of people but you do have an important point to make". No! There are countless "important points" out there waiting to be made. Are we prepared to disrupt the civil running of society, stressful as it is for the ordinary person, so that each bugger with a problem can have their voice heard?

Yes, life is frustrating, especially when it's not going our way, when obvious injustices are being perpetuated, when simple things just can't get done for a myriad of reasons, mainly human error or incompetence. But that doesn't give us all carte blanche to stop traffic, figuratively and literally.

As always I blame the media for being pathetic brainless morons, nothing more than magpies picking up the brightest baubles. They have made a hero from someone who does not deserve it. They have rewarded bad behavior, somethingng every parent knows not to do. When some nutter causes a civil drama to further their cause in the future I'll know where to lay some of the blame. When you glamourize and validate this sort of "terrorism" you say it's ok to disrupt your community to grind your axe.

And I say it isn't. That's what blogging is for. We all know that.

Royal wedding fashion round up

2011-05-07T19:26:00.002+10:00

You know every man and his dog has had their two cents' worth about the royal wedding and I was feeling a bit left out. I knew you've all been awake all night this past week wondering what on Earth DeepKickGirl thought of Princess Beatrice's hat.... well, your wait is over.

To be honest I've paid only marginal attention to the whole circus but today I was reading my first iPad version of the Women's Weekly and had my first good look at the wedding fashion and decided I had something to say.

Firstly Kate (surely it should be Cate?). Simple, elegant, beautiful. Well done.

Chelsea Davy (Prince Harry's on again, off again). Looked like she was on day release from Ladette to Lady. Could have brushed her hair for f's sake.

Princess Eugenie. Frumpy.

Princess Beatrice. On first glance, terrible. But on closer inspection it was just the hat; the dress and shoes were actually lovely. The hat was a crime against humanity. I hope Philip Treacy, who was responsible for most of the hat atrocities on the day, is on Scotland Yard's Most Wanted list.... talk about the Emperor's New Clothes!

Now let's talk about Becks and Posh. What the fuck is wrong with that woman? Would it kill her to crack a smile. Here she is, next to her gorgeous, beaming man, looking like she's just been slapped in the face by a dead fish. Furthermore her dress was plain drab, more suitable for a funeral than a wedding. She really really shits me! Eat something and cheer up, you silly cow.

I'm afraid I have nothing positive to say about our PM but I do have a soft spot for the First Hairdresser, seems like a lovely bloke. Our GG looked elegant, as always.

Away from fashion I thought the media hoopla that went on in the lead up to the wedding was downright obscene and pretty much every Australian media outlet should be ashamed of themselves.

To finish let me paraphrase a joke on the subject. K(C)ate Middleton asks the Queen about the secret to a long and happy marriage. The Queen tells her "wear your seatbelt and don't piss me off".

Random

2011-05-06T19:46:00.002+10:00

Why is it most of my best (only) thinking is done in the car? If only I had some magical contraption which would suck out my thoughts and transfer them straight onto blogger. Seriously, it would be profound.

I'm typing this on our new iPad, which is the new addition to our stable of gadgetry. It's cool and fun and will be wonderful on our upcoming trip to the US. It is pure middle class extravagance, that is true. But it allows me to lie in bed, watch Masterchef and update my badly neglected blog. What luxury!

Our trip to NY is now only three weeks away and the excitement is rising. Also the mild anxiety about being ready, work and home wise. How do we make the best of this opportunity without exhausting ourselves and the kids? So far Big Jay, Will and my dad have tickets for the Yankees vs the Red Sox which should be a wonderful cultural experience if nothing else. We've given up on the idea of seeing The Addams Family on Broadway because Nathan Lane is no longer in the cast and he was the main draw card for me. I'm sure we'll find other ways of entertaining ourselves. Carlo's Bakery (of Cake Boss fame) is definitely on the itinerary. I have overdone it lately on the retail therapy so the dream of heavy duty NY shopping has faded a little... though I still harbour a fantasy of wondering the Brooklyn neighbourhood where we'll be staying and discovering sone quirky little boutique which will present me with a magical bag or cardie or pair of shoes which will blow my mind and give me the ultimate NY souvenir.

I'm super busy at work and finally facing the fact that working four days a week just won't cut it. So after many years I'm back to working full time. It's cool, not liking I'm breaking rocks with my bare hands for a dollar an hour. The problem is I'm so easily distracted I don't seem to be achieving all that much. Must try harder.

The kids are great. Will's last batch of testing with the school counsellor has shown considerable progress but we still worry about high school next year. He just seems so vulnerable to me. There are so many sharks out there in the big bad world. Little Miss M is powering on. Dancing is everything right now and she has started having a private lesson each week to prepare for an Estedford she's preparing for. This is on top of the ballet, tap and jazz class she has each week.

Um, energy running low now.... Brain in "sleep" mode. Good night. Will try to write some more over the weekend.

Still here

2011-04-19T07:31:00.002+10:00

Still here, dear reader. This is one of those guilt posts where I assure you of my good intentions and confirm that I have neither been abducted by aliens nor committed to the local mental asylum (which is long overdue IMHO).

Just not enough time to sit and gather my thoughts and blog. Plenty buzzing around my head, it's just the process of editing all that into something worth reading which is not happening right now.

So a brief "howdy" and on I go with the school holiday juggle.

Watch this space for something much more informative and entertaining.... really, who am I kidding!

Angry bird

2011-04-10T20:52:00.006+10:00

That's me. I'm still angry.... but about something different this time. The arseholes downstairs from us. Keeping me up half the night last night (and for most of last week). It's been the stressful weekend from hell. Big Jay is in Perth and I have had a truckload of stuff to do.

Friday night was the school's Movie Under The Stars night which I was the lead organiser on. It meant a lot of work leading up to the night, a lot of worrying about the night (will it rain? will anyone turn up? will anyone eat the 30-odd kilos of mixed lollies I bought and packed?) and a lot of work on the day and that night. By the time I draged the kids home and collapsed into bed I was shattered.

Up bright and early to drive Will to a soccer game in a suburb I'm not familiar with. Get lost, swear and generally act like an immature spoilt brat. Come home and half lay around, half do lots of housework I don't at all feel like doing.

Get kids in the car to drive to Cronulla so Marianna can participate in half time cheerleading entertainment at the Sharks vs Sea Eagles rugby league game. Drive takes two hours (normally 45 minutes tops) and costs me 10 years off my life. Kids drive me to insanity with constant whining and bickering (at one point while crawling in the traffic I contemplate getting out and just walking until I find someone who can tell me how to enter the witness protection program and never be seen again by anyone I currently know, especially my children).

Finally arrive at the ground, after parking over a kilometre away, just in time for aforementioned cheerleading. Watch and video the performance (nowhere near as good as last year, shit music, shit choreography). Leave.

Come home doubly shattered. Watch the Swans beat West Coast (woo bloody hoo) and collapse into bed. Beyond tired. What happens? I can't sleep because the bozos downstairs (obviously staying as a temporary rental - possibly working at the Easter Show) are sitting on their deck below my bedroom and acting like generally drunk arseholes act - loud talking, loud laughing, loud swearing.

Fuck! Ever time I'd doze off some shithead would bray with drunken laughter; like a sledgehammer to the head. I rang the police at 11:30 but not sure if anything happened (though the nice young constable - I sound like someone's grandmother - assured me they'd send a car around). At 1:15 am I was yet again woken by their noise.

I really hate people and after last night I hope climate change is real (well, of course, it's real, but I mean real in the doomsday way the nutters are predicting) because I want the people downstairs to drown slowly in the rising seas - preferrably while I watch and cheer. I digress.

So after almost no sleep I rise early yet again to get Marianna to birthday party number one by 10:00 am. While she's patting snakes and eating jelly I take Will to visit my grandma in Shady Pines and listen to her complain bitterly that she should still be at home and that she doesn't know why we are making her live there (there's a whole other very very long post right there). Oh joy!

Back to collect Marianna and straight onto her soccer game. She's playing in the under 6s and they don't keep score but I think her team scored 10-0, it was like watching Collingwood play Gold Coast Suns.

No rest for the wicked so we were straight onto the local Aquatic Centre for birthday party number two. Oh GOD!

We finally collapsed home at 5:30. Showers, dinner, blah blah and now I'm sitting her blogging feeling so tightly strung I'm not sure if I'll ever sleep again.

It's the first day of school hols tomorrow and while it's nice to have a break from school routine and I know the kids really need it, for me it means the extra juggle of making sure the kids are looked after and entertained on the days I have to work. It also means a few extra days off work which I can not afford in the sense that I am drowing in work and days away from the office mean falling further and further behind. Fucked by guilt whichever way I go. Oh joy!

Gee, that was cheery, wasn't it. Bet you're glad you stuck through that pile of steaming dreck. So sorry. Something funner next time I hope. Good night.

PS I think this list of complaints comes under the title of what my sister calls "First World Problems". Fuck yeah!

1, 2, 3, 4.... we don't want your...

2011-04-10T20:17:00.008+10:00

...stupid Carbon Tax. Sorry. Doesn't really have a great ring to it, does it.

Never mind. Her I am last week at the No Carbon Tax protest in Sydney.

It's hard not to get disheartened and I'm not one for protesting in general but there I was last Saturday, listening to Angry Anderson get really really ANGRY and wondering when exactly the world went totally mad.

Not my best angle I must admit and my sign is a little cringeworthy. My problem with slogans is that the first one that pops into my mind is the only one that pops into my mind. So here I am with my sign which I'm not overly proud of (though I fully belive in the sentiment I'm expressing so badly). As you can see the man next to me isn't all that excited about my sign either. Last thought on this damned sign - I do like the typeface.

Anyway, let's see some better signs.

This lady had a double sided sign and I loved both sides.

I couldn't get a photo of one of my favourites but it said "By 2012 no Australian child will be living in Carbon". Giggle.

The final word goes to the homeless man selling The Big Issue on the corner of George and Market Street. As I walked back to the car park after the rally he saw my sign and said "yeah, just keep polluting the world" - as in "yeah, just keep polluting the world you fucking capitalist Earth wrecking bitch". It's good to see even the street people have been brainwashed. Not just the chardonnay sipping middle classes (I actually quite hate that expression but just using it for effect here - my dad refers to them as "doctors' wives" and I hate that even more).

So there we go. I've expressed myself in a public forum on the subject I feel most strongly about (politically speaking) with a nett end result of zilch and the march to futility continues. Oi vey!

The Big Trip Is Dead, Long Live The BIg Trip

2011-03-27T10:04:00.003+11:00

The Big Trip is something we've had brewing for about three years now. A trip to take the kids back to their countries of birth, Guatemala and Colombia. It had always been planned for the Christmas holidays 2011-12 to coincide with Will finishing primary school.

There were a few other friends interested so it was always going to be a difficult thing to wrangle into submission. The main reason we have knocked it on the head is that the Christmas holidays is just a super expensive time to fly to the US. Basically our flights would cost more or less twice the price of going at some other time. Not to mention all the flights to Colombia and Guatemala from our base in Miami. It's just hard to justify throwing away that sort of money, not when I can be spending it on Spencer & Rutherford handbags or Thermomix accessories.

So while it's hard to let go of a dream we'd been holding onto for quite a few years now we are happy that we'll still do the trip but just a few months later, possibly around Easter 2012.

The Big Trip lives, it just needs a few extra months to gestate.

Good Lord!

2011-03-27T09:49:00.004+11:00

After hearing a third hand report of a Neil Diamond concert I was expecting less of a Hot August Night and more of a Mild March Afternoon (with a nice Horlicks and a blankie on my lap) but I got a lot more than that - proving my theory that low expectations equal higher payback.

Neil Diamond still rocks, baby! He may be 70 but he has lost little of his energy or talent or gentle humour. Last night at Acer Arena he showed he still has the voice and the moves to keep almost 20,000 people enjoying themselves for two hours.

Sure when we first came in it looked a little like the cast of extras from Night of the Living Dead (dear me, I shouldn't be so unkind, but I just can't help myself - I'm sure I'll look back with regret when I'm whiling away the hours at Shady Pines in the not too distant future). But I quickly realised there was a wide range of age groups there and we were all there to lap up a little Neil Diamond nostalgia... A little Sweet Caroline, Forever in Blue Jeans, I'm A Believer, Cracklin' Rosie, the list goes on - he was a prolific songwriter, wasn't he.

Anyway, it was lovely night top and tailed by a walk to and from the venue with my friend C who I hadn't seen a lot of just lately.

The entertainment avalanche is now over and I can look forward to the start of the AFL season and a few more evenings on the couch in front of the teev. Next major entertainment highlight: New York.

Tim and the City

2011-03-27T08:44:00.004+11:00

Dear Tim Minchin,

I love you. I would like to marry you and have your children (if we weren't already married and had children and if I still had a womb, which even prior to it's departure didn't prove itself as a capable baby carrying mechanism). Anyhow, I sincerely do love you... your crazy hair and eyeliner and your no shoes and most of all your mind.

I want to have passionate sex with your brain, it's super huge and super sexy.

Best of all you understand my feelings about religion and parenthood and you happen to like boobs (which I happen to have a set of). So (apart from the previously mentioned little problems) I think we could be very happy together.

So there, I think I make a pretty strong case as to why we should get married immediately if not sooner. So I'll start the divorce proceedings from my end and assume you'll do the same. I'll have my people call your people regarding our upcoming wedding. See you there.

With all the love in the empty black void I call my heart, DeepKick Girl

PS After I left your show at the Opera House on Friday night I was on such a high I just floated out with the crowd. I was there on my own (well, with a group of friends from work, but not with Big Jay) and after the show everyone went off home and I drifted along through Circular Quay and bought myself an ice cream (super yummy Chocolate Hazelnut and Wild Cherry, if you must know) and just walked. I had parked in Harrington Street so had a little bit of a walk but I could have walked for hours (if it wasn't for those damned high heels I had stupidly chosen to wear that night).

It was a beautiful cool Autumn Sydney evening, the earlier rain had refreshed the air and it was mild and glorious. I just felt an overwhelming sense of love for my city and at that moment I loved being alone and being able to walk and eat ice cream and look around me and let it all sink in.

Like Anthony says in Under The Bridge "sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in... I drive on her streets 'cause she's my companion, I walk through her hills 'cause she knows who I am". That's how I felt on Friday night, like the city knew who I was; what a wonderful and strange feeling.

How lucky was I for the gift of your mind and your talent and your wit, and a beautiful Sydney night and a tiny opportunity to be alone in the city I love. Not sure what spirituality is but it's close as I'm ever going to get.

Just Shoot Me

2011-03-24T07:02:00.003+11:00

No, I'm not going critique the mediocre television comedy show from '90s staring the slightly creepy David Spade. Instead I'm going to write about last night because those three words featured prominently in my thoughts between 8:00 and 9:30 pm.

I had bought tickets for my mum, my sister and myself to see Missing The Bus To David Jones as part of their Chrissie presents because quite frankly I loved the title. This is how the blurb described it:

"It's a secret world. Banal, a bit crazy, and well, quite frankly, surreal. But there's plenty of beauty here too...

What happens behind the swinging doors and beige walls of a nursing home? Meet the residents, staff and visitors and come on a surreal adventure, where day to day rituals give way to moments of spirited abandon. Yes there are walking frames and super sized bibs. But there’s also candy floss, balloons, and dancing – and bingo! And a lot of kindness.

Theatre Kantanka, with its visual and physical performance style, brings beauty, humanity, and much hilarity to this little-known and hidden universe. As baby boomers grapple with the dilemmas of ageing parents, this heartfelt and uplifting production finds celebration where you might least expect it."

Really, I should have known better. Not only does my family not like to discuss death but my mum went through a very hard time when my grandmother was in an aged care hostel for many years prior to her death. Not good memories for all of us but particulary for my mum.

When I read the blurb originally I focused on "heartfelt" and "uplifting" but I should have realised it wasn't going to involve too many laughs. However, it did provide quite a few laughs for the many of the audience members, just not my mum, who spent a great deal of time glaring over her shoulder at the laughees, hissing at me "what is so funny?".

It was definitely black humour at it's darkest. I could see the humour in some, maybe not all of it. Old age and the indignity and saddness and loss of humanity it brings is undeniably very sad but as with all things in life finding the humour in such horror is also very human and necessary for the sake of our sanity.

From the very start I knew I had made a terrible mistake, that mum would hate this show and asked her very early in the piece if she wanted to leave. She said "no" and we sat through an hour and a half of my own physical and emotional discomfort, not because I wasn't enjoying the production (I actually did enjoy it - wonderful acting and creative production design) but from knowing my mother was hating it and hating the audience who was enjoying it.

At the end I braced myself for what was to come but luckily it didn't eventuate. The criticism was brief and, more importantly, not of me for my terrible choice of show. Plus there was the added bonuses of free canapes and drinks when we came out - it must have been either the first or last show of this production - which kept my mum and sister busy.

So a small public warning: choose carefully before you buy family members tickets to the theatre, you could just live to regret it.

Too old?

2011-03-20T20:52:00.002+11:00

Be honest (sort of)... am I too old for a pair of brothel creepers?

I saw a pair in a magazine today and they whisked me magically back to circa 1984 and my original pair of brothel creepers, black and white and gorgeous.

The ones I'm lusting after right now can be found here (click Footwear then Creepers - I want the Leopard print ones).

I know that this is strictly a nostalgia trip but they are so cool and they will so make me feel 16 again. Is that a good or a bad thing? Why do I even want to go there?

All I know is I can't stop thinking about them.

[Kind] comments please.

Dear Weird Al

2011-03-20T20:26:00.002+11:00

or should I call you Mr Yankovic?

Thank you, thank you, thank you. I had one of the best night's of entertainment on Friday at your Enmore Theatre gig. Maybe because I had no expectations (which is always the best place to start, high expectations lead to bigger disappointments) I was blown away! What an amazing night! I was on a high all the way home and that generally only ever happens after a Red Hot Chili Peppers' gig or after the Swans have a big win against a really, really hard team.

You are super funny and super talented and do crazy things with a piano accordion... what a man!

I loved every minute really but the highlights were You're Pitiful (eat shit James Blunt), Canandian Idiot (watch the South Park clip HERE), Amish Paradise ("...tonight we're going to party like it's 1699)... who am I kidding... they were ALL highlights.

It was like the best rock concert and the best comedy gig all rolled into one. A very rare gift indeed.

I took Will and he loved it too. So to end this rather nauseating little letter let me thank you, yet again, on behalf of both of us.

You are a god amongst men and I'm already hanging out for the next time you come Down Under.

Yours truly,
DeepKickGirl

PS I am White and Nerdy, but nowhere near as white and/or nerdy as most of your audience.

Dear Billy

2011-03-20T20:10:00.002+11:00

(Connolly),

It's not me, it's you. I used to love you, a lot. You were so funny, I'd come and watch you and laugh and laugh... until my face ached. I'd laugh so hard I'd miss half of what you were saying because I'd be so busy laughing.

When I thought "funny" I thought BILLY CONNOLLY.

I went to see you a couple of weeks ago. I was really looking forward to it (even though the last time I saw you it was at the awful Hordern Pavilion which is a majorly shithouse venue for comedy and we had to sit on the most uncomfortable fold out chairs EVER and I found it insulting to pay 150 bucks to sit on crappy fold out chairs in a barn of a place with non-existant air conditioning - I hope you fired that particular tour manager or whoever is responsible for such things).

This time around you were at the Opera House Concert Hall, one of my favourite places. We ate yummy Vietnamese food in the new funky outdoor food court area. It was all good and I was all set to laugh.

But you just weren't very funny. You did apologise in advance, saying you had the flu, but really I think you may have lost it. I'm not having a go, really. You're getting on, 68 years old I think. I can barely remember yesterday and struggle to string a coherent sentence together so I can't really blame you for not being as sharp as you used to be. It's just that when I pay $150+ per person for a night out I want something special, something WOW, something a little better than mediocre.

It was sad to sit there amongst all these people who clearly adore you and hear them laugh politely, not uproariously like your audiences used to. When I used to think of your name I used to think of laughing so hard I'd wet my pants (just a little bit). This last time I barely raised a smile.

So I'm sorry. It's tough but I'm afraid you are officially dropped. I'll always remember our times together fondly but next time you come out to tour Australia I'll just stay home and think about what we used to have. It's best this way.

Yours truly,
DeepKickGirl

PS Please tell Pamela she looks like a freak.

Book Review: Beyond Fear

2011-03-15T14:23:00.003+11:00

Recently I was given the opportunity (by the Soup Project people) to preview a new Australian book Beyond Fear by Jaye Ford, an Australian journalist turned author. It was fun getting to read a book before it's general release and this was a book that really appealed.

It is a book I can relate to - the story of four Sydney women going away for a much needed girls' weekend in the country. Having been on a few such girls' weekends away myself I know how much they are anticipated. I also know how isolated I feel, being a city girl through and through, when the lights go out and the serenity of the country turns into that creepy feeling ... I have often laid there in bed in the dark, feeling acutely aware of the isolation and the oppression of the "nothingness" around me.

For the four friends in this book things go wrong very quickly and then they go from bad to much, much worse.

Our main protagonists are Jodie, a teacher with a dark secret, and Matt, a detective with a complicated past. Their lives collide in the tiny town of Bald Hill when a girls' weekend away turns into a nightmare.

Once the action gets going it is relentless and heart-racing exciting. It does take a little while to warm up but once the drama starts it doesn't stop until the very end. In hindsight the slow start is a good balance to the fast paced second half.

I would have liked a little more character development for the secondary players and possibly a little less emphasis on the romance (would you be thinking about the hunky ex-cop when two psychopaths are about to rape and murder you?) but overall it was well written and a very entertaining read.

Thermomix and the meaning of life

2011-03-12T07:55:00.003+11:00

Yesterday was a very strange day indeed.

It started with a plan to have a Vietnamese lunch in Cabramata with my sister and ended with a Thermomix in my kitchen and another major disaster in the world.

Next week is my birthday, the twenty second anniversary of the my twenty first birthday. My wonderful family (who only very occasionally drive me crazy) got brave this year and arranged a SURPRISE for me. Before I go on, it is necessary to say how difficult a task this was and how highly I rate this achievement. Surprising me is not an easy task for various reasons so I understand how much effort and stress it took to not only organise it but pull it off.

So yesterday I drove out to Warwick Farm to have my car valued for a possible trade-in and, after a couple of rather strange conversations with my sister, arrived home to find her and a strange lady and a large box waiting for me. I would have been less surprised had the box contained a naked Robbie Williams (a gift idea for next year...) but, in fact, it contained a brand spanking-new Thermomix, the kitchen machine of my dreams.

You may remember me coming across this masterpiece of kitchen engineering at the Tetsuya cooking masterclass I attended almost 18 months ago. It blew my mind then and I've been coveting it ever since. The price tag put it in the must have/can't have category and it has remained the glittering pinnacle on my wishlist.

And now it's here, in my kitchen, twinkling at me across the kitchen as I write; sitting smugly on my benchtop as if it's always been there. It is occupying the space where my KitchenAid lived until two weeks ago when it had to go to the KitchenAid doctor for a strange alignment problem it had developed. I very much feel like I'm cheating on my husband with Robbie Williams (at least I imagine what that must feel like, I'm willing to put the feeling to the test should the opportunity ever arise...). The KA will hopefully come home soon and my two best kitchen buddies will need to learn to share my love and the bench space.

However, I can now turf my kitchen scales (the TM weighs, you can reset it after each ingredient and then measure the new ingredient - i.e. 200g flour, reset, measure 100g sugar), my blender, my brand new ice cream machine, my stick blender.

The slightly manic Thermomix lady, the gorgeous Lynette, swooped into my kitchen, unloaded the TM onto my bench and within half an hour had produced a yummy soft serve style dessert called a Berry Dream, or some such, a bread dough, a cereal/crumble mix/topping type thing with coconut, apple, dates and nuts (yum!) and a risotto. She then swooped out again leaving me shell shocked (in the best way) and totally bewildered.

There are no sensible words to describe how excited and happy I feel to own such a wonderful piece of kitchen gadgetry. So lucky to have a husband who actually listens to me (who knew?!) and a family who steps up financially and logistically to make my Thermomix dream come true. Well done Big Jay, Jules, mum, dad, linesmen, ballboys.

But then I turn on the evening news and watch the horror unfolding in Japan and my excitement subsides somewhat. Watching the giant tide of water sweep over the landscape, smashing everything in its path, made me put our tiny human lives into proper perspective. Our little, busy ant lives are so important to us but so insignificant to Mother Nature and the march of time. I was overwhelmed with a monsterous tiredness as I watched and went to bed early, heavy with the knowledge that everything doesn't mean anything.

This morning the cloud has cleared. I awoke early, saying goodbye to Big Jay who left for his annual Coffs Harbour golf trip. Turning on the news momentarily brought back the depression (there should be a public service announcement if they're going to make you listen to JGull's dulcet tones at 5:30 am) but the realisation that Hawaii was still above water cheered me up somewhat. A cup of tea and a slice of the freshly baked Thermomix bread (toasted with avocado) brought up my spirits some more.

I've spent a couple of hours surfing the www in search of Thermomix recipes, blogs and communities and have found many. My TM, in future to be known as Theo (in honour of a very cool Mod I knew circa 1984), is smiling at me. A new culinary adventure begins.

I continue to be mad as hell...

2011-03-05T17:37:00.002+11:00

For those missing my man made climate change is bollocks rants (I know there is at least one of you) here is an update from my favourite climate change is bollocks blog.

I had been hoping Australia may be cooling down on this shit because the rhetoric had been wound down prior to the last Federal election but obviously that had been wishful thinking. I knew deep down that it was just the lull before the storm... and believe me there's a storm brewing right now.

I've never been much of a marcher, only that one anti-nuclear march when I was 14 or 15, before I grew a brain, but I'm ready to march now. This may not be Lybia but I feel like a little bit of civil disobedience. Hand me a rocket launcher and point me towards Canberra (if you're reading this, ASIO agents, I'm almost totally joking).

Fawlty Feb: Days Twenty Six - Twenty Eight

2011-02-28T21:21:00.002+11:00

Um, sorry, I give up. It's February 28, the official last day of Fawlty Feb. I have fallen over on the job with this one. Just too much on, too many thoughts, useful and otherwise, filling up the grey matter.

I've tried but I just can't squeeze out another funny. I'm hot and bothered and exhausted. A bus knocked the back end of my car off as I was driving Will to Learning Links today, adding to what was already a stressful afternoon. We're both fine, the car is driveable, it was just one of those stupid, time wasting, slightly surreal moments.

Now I'm sitting here trying to tidy up the end of Fawlty Feb, which seemed liked such a fun idea at the time. I'm reading the script and the words are melting together in front of my eyes. All I really want to do is flop on the lounge and watch an episode of Come Dine With Me, my perfect veg out program.

So please forgive me, dear reader/s, for not completing this odd little challenge.

Today marks three months until we head to the big apple so our busy lives will ramp up just that little bit more as we start to prepare in earnest.

Here's to March, to Autumn, to cooler weather, better sleep, better blogging, to turning 43, to the four thousand events we will be attending in the coming month, to fun, to survival.

Good night.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty Five

2011-02-28T19:44:00.002+11:00

Let me introduce Basil the Rat...

Manuel: I say to man in shop, "is rat". He say, "No, no, is special kind of hamster. Is Filigree Siberian hamster". Only one in shop. He make special price, only five pound.

Basil: (calmly) Have you ever heard of the bubonic plague, Manuel? It was very popular here at one time. A lot of pedigree hamsters came over on ships from Siberia... (he takes the cage)

Manuel: What are you doing?

Basil: I'm sorry, Manuel, this is a rat.

Manuel: No, no, is hamster.

Basil: Is not hamster. Hamsters are small and cuddly. Cuddle this, you'd never play the guitar again.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty Four

2011-02-24T21:16:00.002+11:00

Ever wondered how the Nazis got started?

Basil: This is typical, absolutely typical... of the kind of... (shouting) ARSE I have to put up with from you people. You ponce in here expecting to be waited on hand and foot, well I'm trying to run a hotel here. Have you any idea of how much there is to do? Do you ever think of that? Of course not, you're all too busy sticking your noses into every corner, poking around for things to complain about, aren't you. Well, let me tell you something - this is exactly how Nazi Germany started, you know. A lot of layabouts with nothing better to do than to cause trouble. Well I've had fifteen years of pandering to please the likes of you and I've had enough. I've had it. Come on, pack your bags and get out!

Basil does make a mountain out of a molehill... I mean the poor man just wanted a Waldorf Salad.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty Three

2011-02-23T20:55:00.003+11:00

Drum roll please... yes, it's time for Waldorf Salad.

Basil: I have looked. There's no celery, there's no grapes... walnuts! That's a laugh, easier to find a packet of sliced hippopotamus in suitcase sauce than a walnut in this bloody kitchen. (he looks in the fridge)

Sybil: Now, we've got apples (holding up some)

Basil: Oh, terrific! Let's celebrate. We'll have an apple party. Everybody brings his own apple and stuffs it down somebody's throat.

Sybil: Basil, I'll find everything. Just go and get a bottle of Volnay.

Basil: What's a waldorf, anyway - a walnut that's gone off?

Sybil: It's the hotel, Basil. The Waldorf Hotel. In New York.

Basil: (struck with an idea) Wait, wait.

Sybil: (warningly) Basil.

Basil: (going into the dining room) Everything all right?

Mrs Hamilton: Yes thank you.

Mr Hamilton: Never been better.

Basil: Oh good. Um... by the way. I wonder... have you by any chance ever tried a Ritz salad?

Mr Hamilton: A Ritz salad?

Basil: Yes - it's a traditional old English... thing. It's apples, grapefruit and potatoes in a mayonnaise sauce.

Mr Hamilton: No, don't think I ever tried that.

Basil: Ah!

Mr Hamilton: Don't think I ever will, either.

There's lots more but I'm tired now so you'll just have to look it up or watch the episode if you want to relive all the glory of Waldorf Salad. Good night.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty Two

2011-02-23T20:43:00.002+11:00

Lost in translation.

Mr Hamilton: A scotch and water and screwdriver, please.

Basil: Um... and for you, madam?

Mrs Hamilton: The screwdriver's for me.

Basil: I see... um... would you like it now or after your meal?

Mrs Hamilton: Well, now, please.

Basil: There's nothing I can put right?

Mrs Hamilton: What?

Basil: Absolutely. So it's one scotch and one screwdriver.

Mr Hamilton: I think I'll join you. (to Basil) Make that two screwdrivers, will you?

Basil: You'd like a screwdriver as well?

Mr Hamilton: You got it.

Basil: Fine. So it's one scotch and you each need a screwdriver.

Mr Hamilton: No, no, no. Forget the scotch. Two screwdrivers.

Basil: I understand. And you'll leave the drinks.

Mr Hamilton: What?

Basil: Nothing to drink.

Mr Hamilton: What do you mean? 'Nothing to drink'?

Basil: Well you can't drink your screwdrivers, can you. Ha ha.

Mr Hamilton: What else would you suggest that we do with them?

Mrs Hamilton: Vodka and orange juice.

Basil: Ah, certainly madam.

Mr Hamilton: Make that two. And forget about the screwdrivers.

Basil: You're sure?

Mr Hamilton: We can manage without them.

Basil: As you wish, sir.

And because we're running out of Fawlty Feb days, I'm going to throw in an extra one today. No extra charge.

On Harold Robbins (not that awful Harold Robinson).

Basil: Oh, of course, yes. My wife likes Harold Robbins. After a hard day's slaving under the hair-dryer she needs to unwind with a few aimless thrills.

Sybil: Basil! (she exists into the kitchen)

Basil: Have you ever read any? It really is the most awful American... well, not American, but trans-Atlantic tripe. A sort of pornographic muzak. Still, it keeps my wife off the streets.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty-One

2011-02-22T07:56:00.002+11:00

On coping...

Sybil: I'm talking to Mr Libson, Basil.

Basil: Good. Well, that's a help.

Sybil: I'm sure you can cope.

Basil: Oh, yes, I can cope. Coping's easy. Not pureeing your loved ones, that's the difficult part.

Amen to that, Basil!

Fawlty Feb: Day Twenty

2011-02-22T07:50:00.001+11:00

Not everyone is Gordon Ramsay, you know!

Miss Gurke: Er... excuse me.

Sybil: Yes?

Miss Gurke: I'm sorry, but do you think we could cancel our fruit salads?

Sybil: Well, it's a little tricky, Chef's just opened the tin.

The Moment

2011-02-20T16:33:00.002+11:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about how difficult it is to live in the moment. This moment. Of course we're all actually living each moment, physically we're in each and every moment; there is no escape and no option. But mentally, emotionally... I am rarely in this moment.

Is this the human condition? Is this our normal state? Maybe all this talk about living in the moment is nonsense. I suspect it is, or at least partially so.

When I contemplate the subject I realise exactly how much of my time is spent planning for the future or examining the past. There are so few instances of the present being the main focus. When I'm cooking or eating a meal I'm often thinking about the next one or the special one I'm planning for the next day or the next week. When I'm dressing the kids for school I'm thinking about a myriad of school related issues or what I must remember to get done at work that day.

Holidays are one of the best examples of this: I will argue for the affirmative that the most enjoyable thing about family holidays is the planning and the memories. I love planning holidays; the daydreaming about how relaxing, exciting and fun they are going to be. It is a particular sort of savouring which no reality can ever live up to. Thinking back on holidays is also wonderful because the human mind is very good at editing out the bad stuff (or at the least turning it into a hilarious story) so that you are left with mental images of the great stuff sans the annoying stuff.

Let's be honest, most family holidays involve a lot of annoying stuff. No-one can tell me it's fun to hang around airports, entertain small children on never-ending flights, watch as your child refuses to eat an overpriced meal in an overseas restaurant. Yet my brain deletes all these scenes of irritation and keeps only scenes which involve me lounging around in the infinity pool with a Pina Colada in hand. Thus constantly making me yearn for the next holiday.

I've just finished reading Emma Donoghue's Room about a kidnapped woman and her five year old son living in isolation in "Room". I wouldn't say it's the best book I've ever read but it does give you food for thought. One of my trains of thought was about how much distraction we have in our lives; our lives are choc-full of stuff, so much of it... no wonder it feels like life is going by so fast. When these things are taken away, when people are isolated from all that and put in a restricted space with almost nothing to distract from the simple act of living... life is very different.

There is no moral to this story. I'm just musing on the tangle of thoughts floating around the void between my ears. I don't know the answers or if there are any or if we need any. I'm mostly happy to accept life for what it is. I don't think I can force myself to be in the moment any more or less by thinking about it. I just think the phenomenon of generally dwelling on the past or projecting into the future is really interesting. Is this what the idea of meditation all about? Is this why I find it impossible to meditate or often even sit still for very long? Have I unconsciously trained my mind to be a pinball machine ball, constantly bouncing from one idea, project, task to another? Hmmmmm.....

Fawlty Feb: Day Nineteen

2011-02-19T18:59:00.002+11:00

It's hard to get customer service just right, isn't it.

Sybil: I've had it up to here with you.

Basil: What, dear?

Sybil: You never get it right, do you. You're either crawling all over them licking their boots, or spitting poison like some benzedrine puff-adder. (she goes into the office)

Basil: (to himself) Just trying to enjoy myself.

Fawlty Feb: Day Eighteen

2011-02-19T18:50:00.002+11:00

Fancy a quick read?

Mrs Abbott: Do you have a guide to Torquay?

Basil: A guide... um... oh, dear, I think we're out of them again.

Mr Johnson: (to Mrs Abbott) Do you want to look at this one? I got it in the town.

Mrs Abbott: Oh, thanks... What's on in Torquay.

Mr Johnson: Yes, it's one of the world's shortest books. (they laugh)

Basil: What?

Mr Johnson: One of the world's shortest books... like "The Wit of Margaret Thatcher" or "Great English Lovers".

Fawlty Feb: Day Seventeen

2011-02-17T20:54:00.002+11:00

And so we bid a fond farewell to Mrs Richards and her communication problems and have a short visit with The Psychiatrist.

From: The Psychiatrist (the second episode of the second series, broadcast 26 February, 1979)

Sybil: Seventy-seven! Isn't that amazing... old people are wonderful when they have so much life, aren't they? Gives us all hope, doesn't it.

Mr Johnsons: Mmmm...

Sybil: My mother... on the other hand... is a little bit of a trial really... you know, it's all right when they have the life force, but mother, well, she's got more of the death force really... she's a worrier...

Mr Johnson: (to phone) No, it's all right, I'll hold.

Sybil: She has these, well, morbid fears they are, really... vans is one... rats, doorknobs, birds, heights, open spaces... confined spaces. It's very difficult getting the space right for her really, you know...

Mr Johnson (nodding, not much interested) Mmmmm...

Sybil: Footballs, bicycles, cows... and she's always on about men following her... I don't know what she thinks they're going to do to her... vomit on her, Basil says...

Mr Johnson: (to phone) Can I leave my number, he can call me back...

Sybil: And death.

It'd be quicker to make a list of the things she's not afraid of.

Fawlty Feb: Day Sixteen

2011-02-16T20:57:00.002+11:00

Have we been missing Manuel? I have.

Basil: The money! The money! Do you remember?... Manuel. Manuel. Come here. Manuel... you remember I had some money yesterday. (Manuel looks suspicious; Basil whispers) The money I won on the horse.

Manuel: Ah! Si...

Basil: Tell Mrs Richards. Tell her I had the money yesterday.

Manuel: (with pride) Ahem. I know nothing.

Basil: What?

Manuel: I know nothing.

Basil: No, no.

Manuel: Nothing.

Basil: No, no, forget that.

Manuel: I forget everything. I know nothing.

Basil: No, you can tell her. You can tell her.

Manuel: No, I cannot.

Basil: Yes, yes, tell her, tell her, please, please, tell her, tell her... I'll kill you if you don't.

Manuel: (runs his finger along his throat and winks at Basil) No, I know nothing. (to Mrs Richards) I am from Barcelona. (Manuel leaves)

Wouldn't you love a T-shirt which states "I AM FROM BARCELONA"? It just explains everything.

Fawlty Feb: Day Fifteen

2011-02-16T20:40:00.002+11:00

This was due yesterday, and since it was St Valentine's Day, this is very fitting.

Sybil: (suspiciously) You seem very jolly, Basil.

Basil: Hmmm?

Sybil: You seem very jolly.

Basil: Jolly?

Sybil: Yes, jolly. Sort of... happy.

Basil: Oh, 'happy'. Yes, I remember that. No, not that I noticed, dear. I'll report it if it happens, though.

Sybil: (accusingly) Well, you look happy to me, Basil.

Basil: No, I'm not dear.

Sybil: All this dancing about, singing and rubbing your hands.

Basil: No, just my way of getting through the day, dear. The Samaritans were engaged.

Sybil: I thought maybe you were in love. (laughs)

Basil: Only with you, light of my life.

And a little bit later, with Mrs Richards...

Mrs Richards: I don't need your arm, thank you. I can get down the stairs perfectly well by myself.

Basil: Down the stairs? Oh, well, don't stop when you get to the basement. Keep straight on. Give my regards to the earth's core.

Sybil: Are you sure you can manage?

Basil: And if you give us anymore trouble I shall visit you in the small hours and put a bat up your nightdress. Well, that was fun, wasn't it dear. The odd moment like that, it's almost worth staying alive for, isn't it. (Sybil is poker-faced) It's nice to share a moment like that, isn't it, dear. It's what marriage is all about. I know, it said so on the back of a matchbox.

Sybil: Basil, sometimes...

Basil: (putting a hand on her waist) Seriously, Sybil, do you remember, when we were first... manacled together, we used to laugh quite a lot.

Sybil: (pushing him away) Yes, but not at the same time, Basil.

Basil: That's true. That was a warning, wasn't it. Should have spotted that. Zoom! - what was that? That was your life, mate. That was quick, do I get another? Sorry mate, that's your lot.

Sybil: Basil.

Basil: Back to the world of dreams. Yes dear?

Sybil: (irritated) What are we going to do?

Basil: Give it another fifteen years?

I couldn't have said it better myself, Basil.

Fawlty Feb: Days Thirteen and Fourteen

2011-02-14T20:26:00.003+11:00

Why one should never work in customer service... because, damn it, the customer is rarely right and mostly they're just plain bonkers.

Basil: Good morning, madam - can I help you?

Mrs Richards: Are you the manager?

Basil: I am the owner, madam.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I am the owner.

Mrs Richards: I want to speak to the manager.

Basil: I am the manager too.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I am the manager as well.

Manuel: Manaher! Him manaher!

Basil: Shut up!

Mrs Richards: Oh... you're Watt.

Basil: ... I'm the manager.

Mrs Richards: Watt?

Basil: I'm ... the... manager.

Mrs Richards: Yes, I know, you've just told me, what's the matter with you? Now listen to me. I've booked a room with a bath. When I book a room with a bath I expect to get a bath.

Basil: You've got a bath.

Mrs Richards: I'm not paying seven pounds twenty pence per night plus VAT for a room without a bath.

Basil: (opening the bathroom door) There is your bath.

Mrs Richards: You call that a bath? It's not big enough to drown a mouse. It's disgraceful (she moves away to the window).

Basil: (muttering) I wish you were a mouse, I'd show you.

Mrs Richards: (at the window, which has a nice view) And another thing - I asked for a room with a view.

Basil: (to himself) Deaf, mad and blind. (goes to the window) This is the view as far as I can remember, madam. Yes, this is it.

Mrs Richards: When I pay for a view I expect something more interesting than that.

Basil: That is Torquay, madam.

Mrs Richards: Well, it's not good enough.

Basil: Well... may I ask what you were hoping to see out of a Torquay hotel bedroom window? Sydey Opera House perhaps? The Hanging Gardens of Babylon? Herds of wildebeeste sweeping majestically...

Mrs Richards: Don't be silly. I expect to be able to see the sea.

Basil: You can see the sea. It's over there between the land and the sky.

Mrs Richards: I'd need a telescope to see that.

Basil: Well, may I suggest you consider moving to a hotel closer to the sea. Or preferably in it.

Mrs Richards: Now listen to me: I'm not satisfied, but I have decided to stay here. However, I shall expect a reduction.

Basil: Why, because Krakatoa's not erupting at the moment?

Mrs Richards: Because the room is cold, the bath is too small, the view is invisible and the radio doesn't work.

Basil: No, the radio works. You don't.

Mrs Richards: What?

Basil: I'll see if I can fix it, you scabby old bat....

Tomorrow, the rest of this delicious scene.

Fawlty Feb: Day Twelve

2011-02-12T18:59:00.002+11:00

On the joys of marriage and fire breathing dragons...

The Major: Going to have a flutter, Fawlty

Basil: No-o, no, no...

Sybil: No, Basil doesn't bet any more, Major, do you, dear?

Basil: No, dear, I don't. No, that particular avenue of pleasure has been closed off.

Sybil: (quietish) And we don't want it opened up again, do we, Basil? (she goes into the office)

Basil: No, you don't dear, no. The Great Warning-Off of May the 8th. Good old St George, eh, Major?

The Major: Hmmmm.

Basil: He killed a hideous fire-breathing old dragon, didn't he, Polly?

Polly: Ran it through with a lance, I believe.

Manuel: (running in) Mr Fawlty, Mr Fawlty. Is Mrs... er... room, no like... she want speak to you, is problem.

Basil: (moving off) Ever see my wife making toast Polly? (he mimes breathing on both sides of a slice of bread)

The Major: Why did he kill it, anyway, Fawlty?

Basil: I don't know Major. Better than marrying it (he follows Manuel upstairs)

The Major: Marrying it? Bue didn't have to kill it though, did he? I mean, he could have just not turned up at the church.

Fawlty Feb: Day Eleven

2011-02-12T18:56:00.001+11:00

I use this one at work all the time.

(Still with Communication Problems, we'll be here for a while.)

Basil: (to Sybil) A satisfied customer. We should have him stuffed.

Non Fawlty Feb Stuff

2011-02-12T18:42:00.002+11:00

Um, not so much to report.

Have survived the first two weeks of school OK. Kids (and us) are coping well with the busy schedule.

Marianna is going to drop piano because, despite having a talent for it, she won't practice and thus won't improve and thus I just don't want to pay $30 a lesson for something that's not going anywhere. She's only five, so there's plenty of time to give it another try a couple of years down the track.

Have been eating well but have only lost about 200 grams; hardly worth mentioning. Maybe it'll be a slow build up and then - wham - 5 kg gone overnight. I've bought Blackmore's Metabolism Advantage because I'm always looking for the "magic" thing. Will get back to you on how useful it proves to be.

I made Empanadas today. Have been meaning to for ages. They are my favourite Colombian dish. La Cumbia, the Colombian restaurant at Kensington, makes wonderful Empanadas. I happened to be passing there yesterday and dropped in for some of the special cornmeal you need to use for the Empanada dough. Today I made some and they were delicious, especially with the green onion, tomato and corriander aji I made to spoon over them. Damn it, why are deep fried things so yum?

Well, that's about it. Not much happening around here. Until next time.

Fawlty Feb: Day Ten

2011-02-10T21:09:00.003+11:00

Now we arrive in the wonderland which is Communication Problems, the realm of the one and only Mrs Richards... this will take a few Fawlty Feb days. So sit back and enjoy...

From: Communication Problems (the first episode of the second series, broadcast 19 February, 1979)

Mrs Richards: (to Manuel) Now, I've reserved a very quiet room with a bath and a sea view. I specifically asked for a sea view in my written confirmation, so please be sure I have it.

Manuel: Que?

Mrs Richards: ... What?

Manuel: ... Que?

Mrs Richards: K?

Manuel: Si.

Mrs Richards: C? (Manuel nods) KC? (Manuel looks puzzled) KC? What are you trying to say?

Manuel: No, no - Que - what?

Mrs Richards: K - what?

Manuel: Si! Que - what?

Mrs Richards: C. K. Watt?

Manuel: ... Yes.

Mrs Richards: Who is C.K. Watt?

Manuel: Que?

Mrs Richards: Is it the manager, Mr Watt?

Manuel: Oh, manager!

Mrs Richards: He is.

Manuel: Ah... Mr Fawlty.

Mrs Richards: What?

Manuel: Fawlty.

Mrs Richards: What are you talking about you, you silly little man [I often shout this phrase at the radio when listening to 702 ABC talk back]. (turns to Polly, Mr Thurston having gone) What is going on here? I ask him for my room, and he tells me the manager's a Mr Watt and he's aged forty.

Manuel: No. No. Fawlty.

Mrs Richards: Faulty? What's wrong with him?

Polly: It's all right, Mrs Richards. He's from Barcelona.

Shame to stop now but there's more, so much more, from this episode, choc-full of nutty goodness. Stay tuned.

Fawlty Feb: Day Eight and Nine

2011-02-09T20:34:00.001+11:00

OK, I'm cheating a little because I'm so strapped for time but also because this is one of the greatest episodes and has so much "stuff" it's surely enough to make up for two days' worth of Fawlty Feb.

From: The Germans (the sixth episode of the first series, broadcast 24 October, 1975)

*A little note for those not familiar with Fawlty Towers, Basil is particularly manic in this scene because he's just released himself from hospital after getting concusion after the moose head fell on him. So his gibbering is more ridiculous and out of control than usual.*

Basil: Right, right, here's the plan. I'll stand there and ask them if they want something to drink before the war... before their lunch... don't mention the war! (He moves in front of the guests, bows, and mimes and eating and drinking)

2nd German: Can we help you?

Basil: (gives a startled jump) Ah... you speak English.

2nd German: Of course.

Basil: Ah, wonderful. Wunderbar! Ah - please allow me to introduce myself - I am the owner of Fawlty Towers, and may I welcome your war, your wall, you all... and hope that your stay will be a happy one. Now would you like to eat first, or would you like a drink before the war... ning that, er, trespassers will be - er, er - tied up with piano wire ... Sorry! Sorry! (clutches his thigh) Bit of trouble with the old leg ... got a touch of shrapnel in the war... Korean, Korean war, sorry, Korean.

2nd German: Thank you, we will eat now.

Basil: Oh good, please do allow me. May I saw how pleased we are to have some Europeans here now that we are on the Continent...

[...]

Basil: I didn't vote for it myself, quite honestly, but now that we're in I"m determined to make it work, so I'd like to welcome you all to Britain. The plaice is grilled, but that doesn't matter, there's life in the old thing yet... No, wait a minute, I got a bit confused there. Oh yes, the plaice is grilled... in fact the whole room's a bit warm, isnt' it... I"ll open a window, have a look... and the veal chop is done with rosemary... that's funny, I thought she'd gone to Canada... and is delicious and nutritious... in fact it's veally good... veally good?

2nd German: The veal is good?

Basil: Yes, doesn't matter, doesn't matter, never mind.

1st German: May we have two eggs mayonnaise, please?

Basil: Certainly, why not, why not indeed? We are all friends now, eh?

2nd German: (heavily) A prawn cocktail...

Basil: All in the market together, old differences forgotten, and no need at all to mention the war... Sorry! Sorry, what was that again?

2nd German: A prawn cocktail.

Basil: Oh, prawn, that was it. When you said prawn I thought you said war. Oh, the war! Oh yes, completely slipped my mind, yes, I'd forgotten all abot it. Hitler, Himmler, and all that lot, oh yes, completely forgotten it, just like that (snaps his fingers)... Sorry, what was it again?

2nd German: (with some menace) A prawn cocktail...

Basil: Oh yes, Eva Prawn... and Goebbels, too, he's another one I can hardly remember at all.

1st German: And ein pickled herring!

Basil: Herman Goering, yes, yes... and von Ribbentrop, that was another one.

1st German: And four cold meat salads, please.

Basil: Certainly, well, I"ll just get your hors d'oeuvres... hors d'oeuvres vich must be obeyed at all times without question... Sorry! Sorry!

Polly: Mr Fawlty, will you please call your wife immediately?

Basil: Sybil! Sybil! ... she's in the hospital, you silly girl.

Polly: Yes, call here there!

Basil: I can't, I've got too much to do. Listen... (whispers through his teeth) Don't mention the war... I mentioned it once, but I think I got away with all right ... (he returns to his guests) So it's all forgotten now and let's hear no more about it. So that's two eggs mayonnaise, a prawn Goebbels, a Hermann Goering and four Colditz salads... no, wait a moment, I got a bit confused there, sorry... (one of the German ladies has begun to sob) I got a bit confused because everyone keeps mentioning the war, so could you...

The second German, who is comforting the lady, looks up angrily.

Basil: What's the matter?

2nd German: It's all right.

Basil: Is there something wrong?

2nd German: Will you stop talking about the war?

Basil: Me? You started it!

2nd German: We did not start it.

Basil: Yes you did, you invaded Poland...

Fawlty Feb: Day Seven

2011-02-07T19:45:00.002+11:00

My favourite... duck surprise. Who can ever forget this wonderful scene?

Basil: Yes. Lucky old bin, I say! So this is your new menu.

Colonel Hall: Duck with orange... duck with cherries... duck surprise?

Mrs Twitchen: What's duck surprise?

Basil: Ah... that's duck without orange or cherries.

Sorry, short and sweet tonight. Good night.

Fawlty Feb: Day Six

2011-02-06T19:34:00.003+11:00

Has this kid been taking lessons from my Marianna? Or possibly watching too much Junior Masterchef?

From: Gourmet Night (the fifth episode of the first series, broadcast 17 October, 1975)

Ronald: Haven't you got any proper chips?

Basil: Well these are proper. French Fried Potatoes. You see the chef is Continental.

Ronald: Couldn't you get an English one?

Mrs Heath: (to Ronald) Why don't you eat just one or two, dear?

Ronald: They're the wrong shape.

Basil: Oh dear - what shape do you usually have? Mickey Mouse shape? Smarties shape? Amphibious landing craft shape? Poke in the eye shape?

Ronald: ... God, you're dumb.

Mrs Heath: Oh, now...

Basil: (controlling himself) Is there something we can get you instead, Sonny?

Ronald: I'd like some bread and salad cream.

Basil: ... To eat? Well... (pointing) there's the bread, and there's the mayonnaise.

Ronald: I said salad cream, stupid.

Basil: We don't have any salad cream. The chef made this (indicating the mayonnaise) freshly this morning.

Ronald: What a dump?

Mr Heath: (offering Ronald the mayonnaise) This is very good.

Mrs Heath: (coldly) He likes salad cream.

Ronald: (to Basil) That's puke, that is.

Basil: Well, at least it's fresh puke.

Mrs Heath: (shocked) Oh dear!

Basil: (indignantly) Well, he said it!

Mrs Heath: (loftily) May I ask why you don't have proper salad cream, I mean most restaurants...

Basil: Well, the chef only buys it on special occasions, you know, gourmet nights and so on, but... when he's got a bottle - ah! - he's a genius with it. He can unscrew the cap like Robert Carrier. It's a treat to watch him. (he mimes) And then... right on your plate! None on the walls! Magic! He's a wizard with a tin-opener too. He got a Pulitzer Prize for that. He can have the stuff in the saucepan before you can say haute cuisine. You name it, he'll heat it up and scrape it off the pan for you. Mind you, skill like that isn't picked up overnight. Still, I'll tell him to get some salad cream, you never know when Henry Kissinger is going to drop in, do you.

And on the subject of Gourmet Nights...

Sybil: Andre thinks Thursday nights would be best.

Basil: Thursdays?

Andre: I think so.

Basil: Right. And on the other nights we'll just have a big trough of baked beans and garnish it with a couple of dead dogs.

Mmmm, doesn't that sound yummy?

Fawlty Feb: Day Five

2011-02-06T08:36:00.003+11:00

Some people...

From: The Hotel Inspector (the fourth episode of the first series, broadcast 10 October, 1975)

Basil: ... if anybody wants you?

Hutchison: I'll be in the lounge. (goes into the bar)

Basil: (calling after him) Anyone in particular?... I mean, Henry Kissinger?... or just anyone with a big net? (goes into the office, where Sybil sits filing her nails) I don't know what it is about this place... I mean, some of the people we get here...

A little later...

Basil: I'm on the telephone.

Hutchison: Well, you haven't finished dialling yet, have you? (he puts his finger on the receiver rest, cutting Basil off; Basil slams the receiver down; Hutchison gets his finger away just in time) Now listen... there is a documentary tonight on BBC2 on Squawking Bird, the leader of the Blackfoot Indians in the late 1860s. Now this commences at eight forty-five and goes on for approximately three-quarters of an hour.

Basil: I'm sorry, are you talking to me?

Hutchison: Indeed I am, yes. Now, is it possible for me to reserve the BBC2 channel for the duration of this televisual feast?

Basil: Why don't you talk properly.

Hutchison: I bet your pardon?

Basil: No, it isn't.

Hutchison: What?

Basil: It is not possible to reserve the BBC2 channel from the commencement of this televisual feast until the moment of the termination of its ending. Thank you so much.

I'm personally going to try very hard to incorporate the term "televisual feast" into my every day vocabulary.

Fawlty Feb: Day Four

2011-02-06T08:17:00.003+11:00

[Better late than never.]

From: The Wedding Party (the third episode of the first series, broadcast 3 October, 1975)

Sybil: Tell them you made a mistake.

Basil: Oh, brilliant. Is that what made Britain great? "I'm so sorry I made a mistake". What have you got for a brain - spongecake?

And while we're on the topic of Australian politics, here's what Basil has to say about women a little later in the same episode. I find it's a little bit more amusing if I insert the words Julia Gillard and Kristina Keneally where he refers to "women" and "my wife". I'm so easily amused.

Basil: I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, but my wife has made a mistake, I don't know how she did it, but she did, she's made a complete pudding of the whole thing as usual, it'll be perfectly all right for you to stay. I've sorted it all out, I'm frightfully sorry but you know what women are like, they've only got one brain between the lot of them, well not all of them but some of them have, particularly my wife...

True [S]Grit

2011-02-06T07:47:00.003+11:00

Our date night movie on Friday night was True Grit. Oh! the blissful anticipation. The Coen brothers at the helm, Matt Damon, Jeff Bridges... it was a wealth of riches and the reviews were good, even from my sister.

So you know I really wanted to enjoy this film, I wanted to love it, adore it, worship the ground it's reels rolled on. But I didn't.

I can't write a coherent review because I just have a bunch of random thoughts about it (it was so slow moving I had ample time to have random thoughts... and I had many):

* It was like a Jane Austen novel in the wild west. All that witty banter, so right in Pride and Prejudice, so wrong in True Grit.

* The sight of Matt Damon in western gear with those spurs.... oooh... um... what was I saying?

* Matt Damon was amazing, gorgeous, wonderful in Good Will Hunting.

* Jeff Bridges is very hard to understand. After a while I gave up squinting at the screen in the hope of understanding what he was saying.

* Jeff Bridges was very excellent in The Big Lebowski.

* The Coen brothers are capable of such wonderful filmaking: Raising Airzona, Barton Fink, Fargo, The Big Lebowski... even No Country For Old Men. Why this?

* If you spend millions (many) on a high calibre movie hire someone to check the details. E.g. if a girl swims through a river behind a horse she will get out dripping wet; if a man gets shot through the back of his jacket, through his shoulder, there will be more than just a clean hole where the bullet went through... there will be blood on the jacket, at least there will be black gun residue.

* A 14 year old girl, no matter how feisty, will be raped quick smart when left out in the wilderness with a bunch of outlaws.

* This story would have worked much better as a dark tale, with the inheritent dangers built up and played out, rather than as a quaint period drama with an emphasis on beautiful [clean] costumes and flowery language.

Sorry Ethan and Joel, you've really missed the mark with this one and I can't believe this has received such glowing reviews. Did we all see the same film?