#295: Bubble Cat!
CJ and I, while attempting to play with Ana, inadvertently discovered a new and improved method for tormenting her.
Observe:
To be perfectly honest, we tried the older cat first. When a bubble popped against her paw, she freaked out and fled.
Fun for the whole family!
#294: Flex days
The public service in Australia (that is, government work) has a LOT of awesome things about it, but the best of all is FLEX. It means that as long as you do your seven and a half hours a day (or whatever – it varies in different departments) you can do extra work – an hour here, a few minutes there – and then take whole days off.
Which makes your wife happy.
Today (a SCHOOL DAY, gasp!) CJ and I went together to the second-hand bookshop that was closed yesterday, and we bought two books (which I would name and applaud, but I’m giving them to people for their upcoming birthdays). Also, we mooched about. Then after watching an episode of “Chuck” over lunch* we mooched some more.
*CJ made me lunch, which was very sweet. One tiny problem: the man is clearly addled from excessive mooching about. He interrupted my reading to ask what I wanted for lunch. I smiled, thanked him, and asked for peanut butter and jam.
He wandered off upstairs to do the deed. After putting jam on a slice of bread, he couldn’t remember what “the other thing” was. All he remembered was that it had something in common with his own peanut butter and honey sandwich.
And so it was that I had a jam and honey sandwich for lunch.
To which I say, “EW!”
Ambidextrous Unconscious?
A few nights ago I had a dream in which my wedding ring was on my right hand. I only noticed it was odd because when I woke up and later glanced at my right hand I was momentarily startled to see no ring there.
Does our unconscious flip us into a mirror image of ourselves in our dreams? What does this mean. . . for SCIENCE?
#293: Second-hand bookshop
It is simply astonishing that there’s less than a month of my 365 Daily Awesomenesses left to go, and I’ve never thought of this. Friend to poverty-stricken booklovers everywhere, it’s our home away from home: the second-hand bookshop.
Unfortunately, this one isn’t open on Mondays.
This is Busy Bees in Mawson, for those who now want to shop there.
I was limited to literal window-shopping – which is one way to stay within one’s budget.
Mmm. . . boooookkkksss.
I’m going to go back tomorrow 🙂
S#79: Karaoke
Too embarrassed to write much. Suffice to say:
1) Yes, I prepared by drinking.
2) No, I don’t know the guardian angel beside me (although her mother was also there, and they both sang).
3) I’m so, so sorry.
4) It could have been worse. So screw #3: I’m not sorry at all.
I will admit it was strangely enjoyable.
PS For those following the twittertales, “Minion Number Two” begins on March 4. It’s a tale of intrigue, ambition, and how to train your kangaroo to infiltrate an evil lair.
#292: National Museum
One of the great things about living in the national capital is that it’s so easy to go to the “national” version of everything – national library, national botanic gardens, and the national museum.
On the not unreasonable assumption that there’d be something on 1850s Australia, CJ and I went to the National Museum today. I wrote about it at weekend notes.
And we saw a replica bark and iron hut built inside the museum:
In case you’re wondering, it smells like tree.
Think it’s embarrassing to sniff museum exhibits? Think again.
Tomorrow’s entry is the infamous KARAOKE OF LOUISENESS!
Flee! Flee for your dignity!
#291: Mars Bar Slice
Right now I’m what my friends call “off the wagon”. It’s a chocolate thing. . .
Today’s awesomeness is a slice that makes even me think, “Wow, that’s a lotta lard there.” According to archaelogical digs on the subject, the Mars Bar Slice was the result of Greek philosophers asking the eternal question, “How can mankind make the Mars bar less healthy?”
My sister-in-law introduced me to it, and I returned the favour by making some for her (and by “for her” I mean that I took it with me to visit her, but ate most of it myself).
Ingredients
3 x 65 g Mars Bars, chopped
90 g butter
3 cups Rice Bubbles
250 g milk chocolate
Method
- Grease a slice tray (with butter, not oil).
- Combine loosely-chopped Mars Bars and butter in a saucepan.
- Stir constantly over low heat, without boiling, until the mixture is mostly smooth. The remaining lumps will be absorbed, never fear.
4. Stir in Rice Bubbles and press mixture evenly into greased tray.
5. Melt the 250g of chocolate over hot water and stir constantly until smooth.
6. Spread the chocolate evenly over the slice mixture and refrigerate until topping is set. (Or freeze it for half an hour, then refridgerate.)
7. Cut into squares.
6. Eat far too many. Get so hopped up on butter and chocolate you make another batch the next day.
7. Die of heart failure, thus eliminating the need to post that karaoke video this Sunday.
#290: Chinese Massage
It really is a sign of the times when a person gets stressed because they’re late for their massage. (It’s also a sign the person in question is an idiot.)
I’m a sucker for massages. If a creepy guy approached me in an alley and offered a massage, I’m pretty sure I’d accept. So yesterday I went and had my first Chinese massage.
There are a lot of shops where staff talk amongst themselves in another language while serving English-speaking customers, and this was no exception. I’m pleased to share with the world that I know enough Mandarin to know they most certainly weren’t talking about me. (You’re welcome, paranoid monoglots. Customers just aren’t an interesting topic of conversation.)
They were surprisingly discreet – letting me take my top off and lie down, and then placing a cloth over me as well. That suited me fine. One of my favourite things about doctors and masseurs (and the artist Spencer Tunick) is that in their eyes the human body isn’t good, or bad, or sexy. It’s just a workspace or a piece of meat or clay. It’s oddly liberating to be seen in that way. My masseur used my bum as a handle more than once, and it just made me more relaxed. (Dear internet: This does not apply to the real world.)
It hurt a LOT. Chinese culture isn’t known for being a soft-hearted namby-pamby new-age love fest. For a little while I thought she’d snap my neck tendons like aged guitar strings. Then it was all nice and relaxing. Then I thought she was sanding my muscles off against my shoulder blades.
Eventually she gave me a vigorous pummel and let me go. I sat up a little hesitantly, and discovered that all my movements were smoother and better than before.
Nice work, lady.
PS For something even more terrifying than a little lady who can extract kidneys one-handed, tune into the blog this Sunday. The karaoke has occurred, and there’s an extremely embarrassing video.
#289: Honeycomb
Gotta love the modern world. We use a centrifuge to make sure absolutely no wax gets into consumers’ honey – but whenever anyone of any age sees actual unpurified honeycomb, they go “ooh!” and instantly want some.
I know I did.
If you’re wondering why I posted super late today, it’s because I just completed 24hrs # 5 of steffmetal.com’s #32: Break from Technology.
And now I’m going to watch TV – stat!
#285: Tropfest 2011
On Sunday afternoon, I decided to go to Tropfest – Australia’s biggest short film festival. I sat on picnic chairs with friends in front of the overflow screen, eating chilli and sour cream Doritos and drinking fruit juice. The air was full of the smells of KFC chicken and chips, and popcorn from the nearby food tents.
Read the missing chunk of this article at Weekend Notes.
Fortunately the festival wasn’t all artsy tears.
The first finalist was “The Applicant” starring Pete Rosethorn as an alien attempting to get through a job interview. It was very funny, and I don’t think anyone in the world could have done better than Pete Rosethorn. His physicality and style is perfectly suited to the role, with lines like, “Oh! Yes! I want to eat children *pause* TEACH children.” And there was a nice added dimension at the end.
The second finalist was “Silencer” starring Frank Woodley talking about the very serious dangers of mime. It was also funny, but not as funny as “The Applicant”.
The third was “Flight”, a strangely haunting story about hope in poverty, featuring a skateboarder who isn’t part of the local skateboarding crowd, and who privately attempts to fly. There was literally half a word of dialogue. I thought it was beautifully acted and filmed, saturated with hope against a crummy backdrop, and the mix of skateboarding with naiive hope and grace was an excellent choice.
The fourth was about Sven the Swedish astronaut – I wasn’t able to get the title and I missed large sections of dialogue because I wasn’t able to read the subtitles. It was charmingly retro and funny all the same. The best part was that during the film HUNDREDS OF FRIGGIN BATS swooped directly overhead, flapping their silhouette wings so jerkily it was as if they were made of black cardboard cutouts and string. Excellent! I’ll include a short video of THEM at the end of this entry.
I missed the title of the fifth one, too, and found the plot slightly confusing (CJ explained it to me later). The main actress was red-headed and beautiful, and the peculiar dialogue all made sense at the end.
The sixth was another hilarious one, a mockumentary called “Y2Gay” about a redneck fool building a fallout shelter to avoid the increasing gayness of the outside world. As humour, it was exquisite. As a message, the message was clear but the humour weakened it (because – and yes I’ve heard of Glenn Beck – no-one in the real world is that stupid).
The seventh was “Missing Her” about a Thai boy adopted by Australian parents after his mother’s death. It was sad and awkward and tragic, and the boy’s acting was brilliant. The ending was hopeful, but weakened by the fact that I’d thought of it as a possibility (although I think most people wouldn’t).
The eighth was “Monkeys” a passionate tale of bogan drama in the burbs starring Joel Edgerton. I could see why people would like it, but for me it wasn’t that exciting.
The moon was out, and looked far more stunning than this pic can convey:
There was a break in which I managed to meet my friend who I hadn’t seen since she went to Japan. Aieee! We were so excited (and also cold) that we spent ages standing and dancing at each other.
The ninth film, “The Unspoken” was a monologue to a dying father from his son (because no-one hears their own eulogy). It was quite beautiful and heartfelt, but also a bit wrong. Either it was fiction (in which case it was quite a gimmick, and I found the shots of the “dad” a little too “Oh, look at the skinny sad dying guy”) or it was non-fiction (in which case the sentiments feel a little exploitative because of being part of a film festival).
The tenth film, “Maestro” was about a homeless man conducting the music in his head; a squeegee; Luna Park; and the ocean. It was stunningly acted, stunningly filmed, and the music was good. Since we heard (and saw) the music he heard, it was either a tragic insight into a madman’s head – or it was a joyful exploration of a world we rarely see. It felt uplifting to me.
After that was “A Family Affair” which was another mockumentary, this time on an incestuous couple. It was way, way too gross for me.
The twelth film was “Animal Beat Box”, a childishly fun and strangely hilarious beat box animation song done with animal names and pictures.
“Focus” (from South Africa) was an elegant black and white film, with fine acting (including a brief and carefully-filmed sex scene) but the story was utterly ordinary. The ordinariness was the point I think, but ultimately I found it dull (excluding the visuals, which were exquisite). During that film, a group of people were dancing around one of the tall lights. That was cool.
After that was “A Desperate Deed” which had an interesting, ominous and original story with a twist in the tail.
Film fifteen was “Transparency” about the choice an artist made to exploit the worst moment of his girlfriend’s life. It was well done.
The last film (the famous audience choice film, narrated by Russell Crowe) was called “Bird Therapy” and had a support group of people dressed in seriously ridiculous bird costumes, talking passionately about their various disorders – the pigeon who lost his mate to a jet engine, and so on. The acting must have been extremely difficult, but it was spot on. I couldn’t help wondering, though, what the point was (possibly it was just mocking all self-help groups). It was funny, and suited the seven minute time frame, but still not as funny as “The Applicant”.
So! Who do I reckon should have won?
I really loved “The Applicant” (the funniest, with fine acting and an extra kick at the end), “Flight” (brilliant juxtapositions and a sense of hope) “Y2Gay” (very funny and politically timely), “Missing Her” (for the exploration of a hard subject, and for the acting of the boy) and “Maestro” (for making all of Sydney into an orchestra of light and sound)- and “Animal Beat Box” really made me laugh (although with about as much originality as a clown slipping on a banana peel).
In my opinion, the gold goes to “Maestro”. “The Applicant” is the first runner-up, with “Y2Gay” getting bronze.
But the actual winner was, oddly, “Animal Beat Box”.
Note to self: Next time you go to Tropfest (there most certainly will be a next time) take: (1) a coat, (2) Aeroguard, and (3) your Batman outfit.
