I love you I Love You Too

Yesterday Big Jay and I had a date day. I decided to make the most of his current unemployed status by taking a little time for ourselves. Friday is my normal day off and I usually fill it up with shopping for fruit and veg at the wonderful Flemington Markets, shopping for the endless array of gifts the children need for the never ending array of children's parties they attend, occassionally taking my grandma out for lunch or one of many other tasks which cry out for my attention on my "day off".

But yesterday was a little space for us to enjoy some couple time. I chose a movie and yum cha and after dropping the kids at school and having a standard (don't panic!) blood test we turned up at Rhodes for a 10:30 AM session of I Love You Too.

This is the new Oz film written by and co-starring Peter Helliar. Maybe I'm going soft in my old age but I LOVED THIS FILM. Not just liked a lot but LOVED IT, as in I wanted to see it again the very minute it was finished.

It was full of Oz-isms which made me happy and warm and comfortable, like coming home after a hard day and putting on my comfy pyjamas and slippers and drinking a cup of tea on my sofa in front of a re-run of Roseanne. Sort of like The Castle (which I also love with every fibre of my being) but not quite the same.

Like Kevin Smith, Peter Helliar does the sort of dialogue I adore. For me it's the dialogue which makes a film terrible, OK or outstanding. Yes, Avatar had brilliant graphics and effects but I couldn't remember a single word, let alone line, of dialogue if you held a gun to my head.

The characters are endearing and interesting without being bizarre. The story is little and sweet, like a darling little cupcake which looks gorgeous and gives you a couple of perfect mouthfuls you'll remember fondly for a very long time. As I write this I want to watch it again, right now. Relive the little moments, the little bursts of happiness, sadness and laughter.

It is funny that in a week when I was dwelling on the fact that so few movies really touch me and stay with me (like Say Anything, for example) a perfect tiny gift like I Love You Too drops into my lap and my heart.

Hipstamatic, baby!

I read about this on Dooce.com a while ago but didn't pay much attention until I came across it again today while playing with my apps (yes, damn it, I have an iPhone and I hate myself for it, but it's so good I'll have to learn to live with the shame).

Generally I have found taking photos on my iPhone a boring and non-user friendly task, especially compared to the camera on my old Nokia N95 which was very very good. Until today.

This is the most fun you can have with a small hand-held device (well, almost). It certainly kept me entertained during a dreary day at the SCG, where the Swans were systematically humiliated by the Fremantle Dockers (oh vey!).

Here is a taste of what it can do:

At the wedding we shouldn't have been at...

Big Jay and I at last weekend's wedding, before all the weird feelings and shit.

Beautiful day, Harbour Bridge, Alannah Hill dress... all good until those stupid feelings had to ruin everything.



In other news, another wedding may be in the works. Stay tuned...

Definition of surreal

Having a conversation with my mum and sister about the possibility of the stripper who my sister organised for my hens' night over 12 years ago being available to "perform" at my mother's upcoming cocktail party for her friends. Weirder still is that my sister is a FB friend with the aforementioned stripper who used to be in Manpower (or some such) but is now a choreographer. After some FB to-ing and fro-ing it was discovered he no longer did stripping himself but could recommend some of the younger boys he now choreographs for. After some more to-ing and fro-ing my mother decided against such form of entertainment for reasons I can't possibly describe here (no, not those reasons).

How did my life come to this?

P.S. Further surreal aspects of my life right now: I will be having coffee with my ex-husband on Saturday morning. Haven't seen him for 10 years or so, will be interesting to catch up. Sure he left me for my best friend's (at the time) sister-in-law after meeting her at their wedding, but any hard feelings have long since evaporated (and she did end up helping BIg Jay and I buy a very nice Ikea bedroom suite for a give-away price).

Funny!

We went to see Janeane Garofalo and Greg Behrendt at the Sydney Opera House on Friday night. I've been a fan of Janeane's for a long time, particularly for whacky little flicks like Clay Pigeons and Mystery Men, though she's been in quite a few. She is the sort of dark funny which really appeals to me.

She didn't disappoint on Friday night though I felt her off beat timing and dark leanings went over the top of many heads in the audience. I enjoyed her performance a lot.

Greg Behrendt was very much an unknown quantity. I knew he had co-written He's Just Not That Into You but apart from that I wouldn't have recognised him if I had fallen over him. Sometimes not having any sort of pre-conceived ideas works the best. He killed me.

God! He is a very funny dude! Not much point paraphrasing any of it but I do want to comment on his concert for older people routine. He suggests having concerts just for us older people (I think he suggested 28+). We'd pay extra to keep out the young people (who I think we all agree are just plain annoying, just like we were back way when). The concerts would start at 7 pm, no support act, just the hits, then home by 9 pm to watch our favourite shows. I hear you Greg, I really hear you! [These would also be a great marketing point for my Concert Catheter invention.]

If you get to see these people do live comedy, do yourself a favour...

Lesson learnt

Yesterday I learnt a valuable life lesson:

Don't go to your sister's ex-boyfriend's wedding.

Seems obvious in hindsight, but then that's always 20-20. Isn't that what they say?

The said ex-boyfriend is also an employee of the company I work for, the family company run by my dad and his business partner, which has been my extended family and home-away-from-home for the past 19+ years. AB has worked there for 15+ years and I have come to regard him as part of my extended family as well. Especially after he had a meaningful, if difficult, relationship with my dear sister for a couple of years.

He and I have always got on well. We talk and laugh, though I'm sure we're quite opaque to each other as real people. I hold him in high regard as a work colleague and a person.

I didn't think twice about accepting the invitation to his wedding. It never occurred to me not to, that there could possibly be any sort of problem. Only that it may have been awkward for my sister, but she assured me she was cool with it.

But during the speeches (strangely not at all during the ceremony) it hit me like a tonne of bricks. Whoa! I did not see it coming. AT. ALL. The feelings (fuck, I hate feelings)... they just came flooding through and it took a lot of self control and staring intently into the middle distance not to burst into tears. The "what could have been", the "why?", the "fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I feeling here?" feelings.

I struggled with the words and the eye contact when saying my goodbyes to the bride (if I didn't come across as thoroughly insane I will be very surprised). We left early, feigning tiredness and having to drive my dad home, when in reality I just couldn't wait to get away. Very suddenly I felt very very wrong.

Well enough about my psychological problems for one Sunday afternoon. As you were.

Recruitment Advertising

I've not had my mind on the job re: blogging lately. Or to be more precise I've had my mind on it but I've just not been able to squeeze it into my days/weeks.

Big Jay is officially a house husband at the moment due to his redundancy and I have been spending a great deal of time searching job websites. It's a whole new world of bullshit out there. I haven't had to look for a job for over 19 years so it's an eye opener.

The reason I am doing the bulk of the search work is that you could say I'm more open minded when reading the job ads. Big Jay seems to think that his dream job will have a bold heading "Big Jay's Dream Job" (sort of like he thinks that the mayonnaise will be front and centre in the fridge when he wants it and not hiding behind the grapes on the bottom shelf).

The other reason is that Big Jay doesn't really have a "dream job". He started life as a carpenter/builder, moved onto installation of security doors and 10 years ago fell into telecommunications/IT support. He enjoyed his last job and was very good at it but he is not an IT head. He's not one of these people that the employment ads require ... "passionate about IT". Big Jay likes getting the job done and he likes getting on with people and he likes leaving people happy about the job he has done. But the actual IT part, he could take it or leave it.

So at the age of 40 he finds himself good at a number of things but not particularly expert or passionate about any of them. So we've sent off applications to a fairly wide variety of positions. He's had a couple of interviews. He's squeezed in two short courses. Today and tomorrow he's helping a friend with a small building project. You could say he's keeping busy.

What I've really learnt from this past week and a half of having Big Jay around a bit more is that I really like it. I would love to have a house husband. It's not so much the extra help with the housework that I'm appreciating. It's the extra help with the kids. For a start I've been able to get to the gym three times since last week. I've missed going to the gym and I'm loving having the opportunity to get back there.

Anyway, I started with an idea to write about the weird and ridiculous world of recruitment advertising but I've ended up blathering on about nothing. Suffice to say job ads are a weird and wonderful breed. They range from two lines which tell you almost nothing about the position to point lists requiring twenty different competencies, a degree and the desire to take on a position for $40,000 per annum.

Personally I would love it if we could find a way of living on less (ha! after what I spent on an Alannah Hill dress to wear to a wedding on the weekend we need to start cooking up some meth in the garage for some extra cash) so that Big Jay could work part time and we could have a calmer lifestyle. I just know, short of winning lotto, this can't happen in any practical way.

Now, back to Seek.com.au ...

Just in case my blood needed a little more boiling

A very interesting little article about the tangled web behind saving the planet from imminent climate catastrophe; aka fleecing the folk who care and all the others who don't have a choice.

[F*&# it's good to read this stuff which gives some real structure to what has been weighing on my mind and twisting in my gut for these past few years. Climate change is real but it's natural, not man made and it can't be fixed with Toyota Priuses and paying airlines for less-than-useless carbon offset charges.]

MasterSook

I am borrowing the title of this blog entry from my sister (hope that's OK, JB).

Have you ever seen such a big bunch of whiney little girls as the contestants on this season of MasterChef? Boo hoo, this is for my grandmother. Boo hoo, I've let down my team mates. Stop blubbering and cook.

Having said that, let me say this. GO, ALVIN! You cute little gay scientific officer, you!

Furthermore, this morning I won Julie Goodwin's cookbook in a Fountain Sauce competition. So it's all MasterChef, all the time, around here.

But I actually have something sensible to say about cooking following on from that rambling about all things MC.

Strangely, considering that Big (not so much now) Jay and I have been on a Leptin Green Coffee 800 based loosing weight frenzy these past six weeks or so, I have also been on a bit of a cooking frenzy this week. Because these recipes have come out so well I thought I might share them with you, loyal reader, just in case you're looking for something new to spruce up your winter menu.

1) Chocolate and Almond Brownies

I found these on the Taste.com.au website when I was trying to use up some sour cream I didn't want to throw out. I love brownies but have never found a really good recipe that has excited me.

These are good. The sour cream makes them moist, even after a couple of days. The almonds add a nutty crunch contrast which I love. I don't put in as much sugar as they suggest, I only put in about 1/2 to 3/4 of a cup. I also use maple syrup instead of golden syrup. I have also added and/or substituted other types of chocolate including half dark cooking chocolate/half Mars bars (I had a couple of fun size laying about in the back of the fridge). The brownies always turn out just right.

2) 12 hour slow cooked lamb

I found a version of this recipe in a Gourmet Traveller which found it's way into my hands recently (great magazine, I've asked for a subscription for Mother's Day). I didn't use the spice mix in the original recipe because I didn't have the necessary ingredients and I didn't want a middle eastern flavour.

My version involves making a paste of an onion, some garlic (I used quite a lot, maybe 8 or 10 bits), lemon zest and juice and olive oil. I rubbed this paste all over a 2.5 kg leg of lamb and covered in plastic wrap and then foil and left in the fridge for 36 hours (I would probably leave for at least 24 hours). I then took it out of the fridge for an hour and put in the oven at 110 degrees for 10.5 hours (I know, I got impatient at the end). The lamb was absolutely beautiful, not quite fall off the bone, but very moist and tender and wonderful. Next time I might turn up the heat to 120 degrees or just find a little more patience and leave it in there for the full 12 hours.

3) Lamb, lentil and vegetable soup

This recipe is a variation on one I made a lot last winter (mainly because I wound up with a great deal of frozen, left over roast beef and lamb... long story). This recent version involved the left over slow roasted lamb, as above. I trimmed all the meat from the bone and placed in the slow cooker with 6 cups of stock (4 cups chicken, 2 cups vegetable - just what I had available, use what you have). Also a large tin of chopped tomatoes and a cup of dried green lentils (brown or red lentils or barely would work just as well). I diced up a whole lot of onion, garlic and celery and a small sweet potato (because I like them) and fried them gently in some olive oil to caramlise and add some flavour. I then tipped them into the slow cooked with the other ingredients. I would suggest seasoning to your own taste, I tend to cook a little bland because that's how the children like it and because Big Jay pours on salt and pepper onto everything before tasting a mouthful.

I left all this on for about 6 hours on low and then turned it up to high for about 1 1/2 hours at the end. You could probably just cook it on high for about 4 hours for a very similar result.

Hearty and delicious. A big pot lasts for a few days, including work lunches for me. The kids love it. When we have it for dinner I make some croutons out whatever bread or rolls we have laying about.

4) Spicy-ish Pumpkin Soup

This year I've been back shopping at Flemington Markets and the beautiful fresh produce always inspires me. Two weeks ago I bought a gorgeous medium sized Jap pumpkin for $2. After peeling and seeding I got 3.5 kg of pumpkin flesh from it. I put all that in the slow cooked with two chopped up onions, some garlic, ginger (I think it was the young ginger I bought which added an extra zing) and one bit of lemongrass, as well as two teaspoons of korma curry paste and one tin of Carnation Light Evaporated Milk, Coconut Flavour. This cooked for about 6 hours on the low setting. I then left it too cool for about an hour before putting it through the blender in batches (my hand held blender thingy has some awful fungal infection which should lead me to buy a new one but I can't bring myself to do so yet as this one is quite new and barely used, shame!).

Anyway, the result was a beautiful pumpkin soup with so much flavour - Big Jay and I just love it. However, it is just a little too spicy for the kids (next time I will omit the lemongrass and most of the ginger). The freezer is full of soup right now which gives me a satisfying feeling, knowing there is a quick meal only a microwave zap away.

OK, enough domestic goddess bollocks for one day.

We're off to the Swannies... and tomorrow is Will's 11th birthday and a soccer party.

RIP ETS

Or should I say "rot in hell"?

I am ever hopeful this is the last we'll see of the Emissions Trading Scheme but I'm sure Penny Wong, Bob Brown [there's two I'd like to see drown under rising sea levels!] et al will continue to moan about what bad little humans we are, how much we must all pay for our sins in order to "save" planet Earth.

What might the next reincarnation of the ETS look like?

Loving the Kindle

I'm very happy to report that I love my Kindle. I purchased it with some amount of trepidation, wondering how on earth an electronic gadget would be able to replicate the experience of reading a book.

Well I can easily say that the experience is not deminished, at least not for me. My first book purchase was Nick Hornby's Juliet, Naked and I loved it; reading it on the Kindle didn't detract in any way from my enjoyment.

The features of the Kindle really blow my mind. Being able to search the Amazon Kindle Store by (free) wireless connection from just about anywhere and then purchase and download a book with just a few clicks and a wait of only 10 or 20 seconds is truly amazing. Then there are the features I can appreciate though I would probably rarely use. Like the text size adjustment, the text-to-speech feature available on most books, the inbuilt dictionary which allows you to pop up a definition simply by positioning your cursor next to the word in question, the ability to email PDF documents to yourself at your Kindle email account. The list goes on.

For me it's simply the ease of use and the simple elegance of always having a library in my handbag. After reading Juliet, Naked I downloaded The Remains of the Day which I have been meaning to read after loving Never Let Me Go so much. Recent Kindle Store searching has revealed bargains like the entire Jane Austen collection for $5.19. Many classics are even available for free but I haven't downloaded one yet so I'm not sure what the "catch" is.

Now I'm working my way through a stack of unread paper books and very quickly they seem bothersome to me. Big, heavy and annoying. You could say I have embraced the new technology and I'm not looking back. If you are a book lover I'd say take a look, you might surprise yourself.

Perth Pics

My little munchkins amongst the gumnut babies.

The volunteer guides at Fremantle Prison were not willing to take cash to keep them like this for a few hours. Sheesh! We tried.

Payng hommage to Bon Scott on the Fremantle waterfront.

So much to tell you, dear diary

I know I've been MIA the last couple of weeks and I do apologise.

The week before school holidays started (i.e. the week before Easter) we flew to Perth to visit Big Jay's side of the family. The kids and I haven't been for over three years and it was about time to catch up and let the kids see their cousins.

The trip itself was fine (I won't mention that there were moments when the kids nearly drove me to the point of madness with their whining and complaining). Perth has come a very long way since I first visited 17 years ago. This time we visited a few places I haven't been before, like Mandurah and Yanchep National Park. I have to say there is a lot of effort being made to provide family friendly environments, especially playgrounds, and there is certainly no shortage of places to eat. Particuarly I loved visiting Fremantle which is being restored building by building and looks sensational. We decided it would be our base next time we go because it is so much more vibrant than Perth city (which still remains very much a ghost town on weekends and evenings).

[I will put up some photos in a separate post.]

We returned home on the Sunday of the Easter long weekend. The following week, the first official week of the school holidays, was somewhat of a blur. Visiting friends, entertaining the kids, trying to fit in a couple of days at work. (Special mention should be made at this point of my mum and my sister J who have really helped me out in a big way with childcare duties. School hols are always a juggle but now, with two kids at school, the pressure has increased considerably. I really don't know how women without family support and "real" jobs manage.)

The thing taking up most of my gray matter time right now is Big Jay and the fact that he will be sans job come 30 April. This retrenchment has been in the pipeline for some six months now but I think because of the long lead time we've both been in some sort of denial, hoping that another position would be found. It hasn't and the last few weeks have seen us in serious "future" discussion mode. What did Big Jay want? Did he want to stay in this strange IT world in which he found himself almost as if by accident? What other choices were there at 40? Suffice to say decisions have been made, applications for jobs have been sent, a course has been enrolled in. My Pollyanna-ish approach to life means I believe everything will turn out for the best; we have our health, roof over our heads, not quite ready to check into the poor house, yadda yadda... Nevertheless, I crave certainty (even temporary certainty) and until another job is in place I can't quite get over the fear which has taken up residence somewhere in my gut.

Anyway, the kids go back to school this coming week and I will hopefully have some space to clear my thoughts and get back on top of things (ha!). I need my routine to set the perimeters of my life and having not had that routine in place the last few weeks has probably caused me to be a little more anxious than I normally would be. Control freak? Moi?

OK. Need to go. Photos and more posts coming up shortly.

You can't stop progress

I am awaiting the arrival of my Kindle (Australian version) from Amazon. I spent some time arguing against the introduction of such technology. After all, books are a beautiful thing, not just a practical thing. The reading experience is not just about absorbing information.

But then I realised:

a) I am drowning in books. When we moved out of our old house, where we had bookshelves overflowing with books, we cleared out a lot of them and donated them to Lifeline (who hold a giant book sale every year for fundraising). However, many moved with us and live in plastic crates in the garage. The single bookshelf in the (not so) new apartment is overflowing with books and the stack on my bedside table is about to topple.

b) If only they made them out of edible paper, how much more practical would that be? You could have a double-y enjoyable experience and you wouldn't have mountains of books to trip over.

c) I was sounding like one of those people who argue that albums sound so much better than CDs (and iPods). They talk about the crackle and the "warmth" of the sound. Bollocks. Whatever "warmth" I may be giving up for the convience of having my entire music collection on a gadget as big as half a cigarette packet I am more than happy to sacrifice.

d) In my world convience generally wins over warm and fuzzy philosphical ideals.

Thus the Kindle is about to enter my life and I am so excited. The idea that I can have many books on hand, in my handbag, with me at all times, is mindblowing. Planes, doctor's waiting rooms, the bench at my children's swimming classes, will no longer be places of lost time and boredom. I will be whipping out my Kindle and catching up on all the reading I rarely get to do. Oh, bliss.

Stay tuned for a review: or what happens when reality crashes into my dream landscape.

Turkeys and Penises and Mud Crabs, oh my!

Sunday night I returned from a weekend in Noosa with my mum and sister. It was my non-denominational Festive Season gift to them and a much anticipated break.

I have never been to Noosa before and was filled with anticipation, especially for the legendary shopping.

My introduction to the shopping was swift and painful. The very first shop we entered on Friday afternoon presented me with the most glorious handbag, a beacon of handbagy wonder. Eagerly I asked the saleslady to get if from the shelf for me. Eagerly I examined its beautiful, intricate detail; already projecting how much happier and more fulfilled my life would be with it on my arm. Eagerly I fumbled for the price tag, mentally reaching for my credit card and finalising the transaction. Eagerly I threw the bag at the hovering saleslady: $1585, that's how the price read. At first glance my brain simply registered $158.50 and instantly I thought "wow, what a reasonable price for such a beautiful bag, wrap it up". At closer inspection I realised there was no full stop or dash seperating any of the digits and the horror dawned on me. ONE THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FIVE DOLLARS (not Lira or Yen or even NZ dollars to bring down to a figure my mind can comprehend).

It was almost totally down hill from there. The first half dozen shops we entered featured $800 dresses, $400 jeans and the most wonderful boots, the price of which I was too terrified to enquire about.

But this is not a totally sad tale. At one of the shops I discovered Desigual, a Spanish brand of clothes made just for me. Crazy colours, fabrics, prints and textures; just the sort of stuff I love. Mum and J bought me a skirt for my birthday and I can't wait for the weather to cool down a little so I can wear it.

Apart from the wonderful/horrible shopping there a number of other memorable things about Noosa.

The turkeys. They are everywhere. The streets, the cafes, hiding in the scrub around the beach. Where do they come from and why are they are there?

The penis trees. Otherwise known as Padanus Palms, these trees literally look they are growing penises instead of roots. Yes, I am as deep as your average puddle but these just cracked me up every time I saw them... and I saw a lot of them. [See pictorial evidence below.] Mum and J got well and truly sick and tired of me nudging and pointing each time we passed one (about 100 times a day).

The mud crab. We had the most delicious, indulgent Queensland Mud Crab cooked in garlic butter, with lots of herbs and big slabs of crusty bread to mop up the gorgeous buttery sauce on Saturday for lunch. Mud crab is one of life's true treats for me. It's something I rarely have but often crave. Mmmmm....

And memorable for all the wrong reasons was Noosa Marina Sunday Markets. If there was an Olympics for piss weak markets this would certainly be in gold medal contention. "Markets" is really too strong a word for this collection of crappy stalls: stick on fingernail decals, handmade pottery mermaids, new age crystal rubbish... and these were the best of them. The advertised "fresh produce" consisted of one stall, out the back in the car park, with a sad display of half a dozen of a few fruits and vegetables. The only positive of the day was the lovely Ferry ride from Noosa to Noosaville and onto Tewentin. Oh well, live and learn.

So onto a few pictorial moments from the weekend...

Mum and I enjoying some Krispy Kreme action before boaridng our plane.

Ladies who lunch. Waiting for our

Mud Crab while enjoying some

very yummy cocktails.

Yes, I have no shame.
(But it does look like a penis doesn't it?
It's not just my dirty mind.)

Vajesus!!

So just when you think you've heard of everything your sister throws a "Vajazzling" at you over the yum cha table. "Va.... what?" I stammer.

"You know, Vajazzling... bedazzling for your vajayjay." She says it in a manner which implies that this is a fact everyone knows. Humans require oxygen to live, pigs can not fly, vajazzling is bedazzling for your vajayjay. Of course! Der! Tell me something I don't know!

Apparently this newly created attempt to befuddle money out of over-preened young women involves waxing your lady parts followed by an application of Swarovski crystals to the general area. If you don't believe me (and surely I wouldn't believe myself) take a look at THIS.

In my youth, when mammoths roamed the earth and Adam Ant was the height of masculine good looks and sophistication, we would preen ourselves by plaiting our freshly washed hair into 100 teeny weeny tiny plaits (thanks to my friend's teeny weeny tiny braces elastics) on a Friday night, resulting in a head of diabolical frizz on a Saturday morning. Imagine, going to a lot of trouble to achieve frizz!

This Medusa-like frizz would be complemented with an outfit of a short black tutu, shiny tights where one leg was black and one bright red, a t-shirt of red and white stripes and very pointy, black patent leather shoes.

So I know how to go about attracting a mate of the opposite gender and I also know that women have been doing this successfully for millions of years (unless you don't believe in evolution, in which case they've been doing so for just over 2000 years, a theological point I probably don't have completely correct). Any old how, what I'm getting at is that we seem to have been perpetuating the human race in a reasonably successful manner for a very long time without the help of Vajazzling. Obviously men have been totally repulsed by our non-Vajazzled vajayjays (I just love saying "vajayjay", try it, you'll like it) for all these years.

I know that Big Jay, upon returning from his golfing sojourn to Coffs Harbour on Wednesday night, will be pleasantly surprised when he ventures underneath the stretched out Target pyjama pants of questionable vintage and the giant, washed-to-within-an-inch-of-it's-life Antony and The Johnsons t-shirt which is my lingerie of choice in the boudoir. Know what I'm saying?

You got to have faith?

It's pretty well documented that I'm a cynical bitch. I don't suffer from an over abundance of faith.

Faith in politics and/or politicians.

Faith in the media.

Faith in my fellow humans (mostly).

Faith in any sort of god and/or organised religion.

So it hurt my brain to hear on the radio yesterday, during a discussion about religious education in schools, that (are you sitting down?) only 19% of Americans believe in evolution (NINETEEN FUCKING PERCENT!!!!) and a marginally less obscene 42% of Australians.

I accept that such surveys are often skewed in various ways and I accept that there would be a certain percentage out of the 81% (and 58%) who would argue that humans were dropped on planet earth by aliens but that still leaves a shocking number of people who believe that us humans were created by a guy in a robe and a long beard who lives up in the sky.

That sort of information causes an overload in my brain. I don't know how to process such data.

But I have come to accept (though not understand) that there are fans of Celine Dion and Andre Rieu in the world so I suppose I will eventually find a way of living with such mind boggling information.

A lot of love in the room

George Michael still has "it". He's gracious, dignified, talented, wonderful.

If Monday night was hell, climatically speaking, last night was heaven. A mild, warm late summer night. A light breeze. Aaaahhhhhh!

40,000+ people full of love and respect. It was a beautiful thing to behold and experience.

I loved every moment and the finale of Freedom (90) was perfect.

[Warning! This is the rant part. I hate to finish this post on a low note but I am bitter that he didn't include Wake Me Up Before You Go Go - unless it was the song I missed at the very start. I am also bitter about the moronic female behind us who spoke loudly to her friend throughout all the quiet songs. Shut the fuck up! The end.]

For those about to rock...

... we can smell you!

Holy mother of god. What a night. Imagine being at a gym with 60,000 hot, sweaty people. The air thick with humidity and BO.

That was Monday night at ANZ Stadium at the AC/DC concert.

I'm not sure what I was expecting but I think the sheer physical discomfort of the heat and the awful suffocating smell probably made me more critical than I may otherwise have been.

Strangely I couldn't really get into the breast flashing which is (apparently) the tradition during She's Got The Jack. I didn't enjoy Angus Young's recipracol striptese; he is, after all, the Mr Bean of rock'n'roll. Call me fussy but I don't get my jollys from watching an almost 60 year old skinny unattractive bloke taking it off. Do us all a favour and put it back on and throw in a paper bag over the head while you're at it, buddy.

Furthermore I hate solos: guitar solos, drum solos, any sort of solos. So Angus' 20+ minute guitar wank didn't ring my bell. I found it quite sickening actually. Shut up already.

The highlight for me was She Shook Me All Night Long, which I think is sexy piece of raunch rock, that's for sure. The lack of It's A Long Way To Shop If You Want A Sausage Roll was a huge disappointment.

Anyway, I'm glad I went. I can tick ACCADACCA of my list of bands to see and go to my grave having no desire to ever see them again.

In a week of musical extremes we have George Michael on Friday night. Don't forget to wake me up before you go go...

Listen up Alanis Morissette

This is fucking IRONIC*. Precious.

What a movie. What a story. What can I say about it?

Hard work. Actually hearing and understanding Precious, hard. Emotionally, hard.

I'm just not able to do social realism like I used to. Perhaps it's parenthood. The horrors inflincted on children are too hard to watch as "entertainment".

Performances are mind blowing. Even Mariah Carey is outstanding in her small role (who could have guessed). Gabourney Sidibe as Precious is understated and raw.

* To state the obvious, it's ironic because to name a child Precious and then treat her like garbage, like much less then human, is the ultimate irony. Don't you think.