#56: Spread Good News
Some of you already knew (the secret’s officially out), but here’s some good news I’ve been bursting to share for quite a while now. . . my sister is pregnant!
Now obviously, I’m delighted for her, her husband, and their child, whose life is pretty sweet so far. But there’s another side to my delight, which I shall explain in these three pictures.
My sister looks pretty much like this:
. . . I look pretty much like this:
But for most of this year, my sister will look like this:
You go, girl!
Play along at home: Get pregnant, and tell people (not recommended for all players). Find some good news – even if it’s just a friend’s birthday coming up – and share it with the world.
In other news, today I discovered http://emmylennevald.blogspot.com/ who is also doing everything on Steff Metal’s awesome list – http://steffmetal.com/101-ways-to-cheer-yourself-up/. Who knew there were two of us?
3, 2, 1. . .
I weighed 80.9 this morning. That “0” was a delight to see. I’ll be smart and not weigh myself for a few days, because there’s no way I’ll continue losing .2 every day. Once I’m under 80, I’ll chill for a bit (without going back to a daily binge). Hopefully that day will be next Wednesday.
Gandalf lives, and I’ve released him into the main tank now, but decided to wait another week before getting more fish. You may recall the point of starting over was to get it right and not kill any more living creatures.
I had the water tested for ammonia, nitrate, and a few other things, and it was fine. So it was probably the lack of the blue crystals that was my only issue.
If you’ve been reading this blog and not the other one, you’ve missed some fun. Yesterday’s entry (“Frolic in a Fountain”) was especially enjoyable. I do recommend you go look at it: http://twittertales.wordpress.com/2010/04/20/124-frolic-in-a-fountain/
#123: Yum Cha
This is another idea from the sweetness that is http://the-creamy-middles.blogspot.com.
I moved the article here, for money 🙂
Play along at home: Go to yum cha (I went to Ginseng in the Hellenic Club) but remember it’s usually a lunch thing, and not happening all the time. Alternatively, you can make your own by buying the dumpling wrappers at an Asian grocer and filling them with whatever seems good to you (I recommend a mix of pork and chicken mince, with soy sauce). Then steam or fry them, and eat!
I haven’t forgotten Secret # 6, don’t worry.
Also coming soon – a guest post from Emmy Lennevald.
So. . . that reverse burglary thing. . . here’s another, better clue:
#124: Frolic in a Fountain
This is inspired by http://the-creamy-middles.blogspot.com. Thank you!
At the beginning of the day, I was scared the cops would take me down and/or put me in the slammer/big house/bad man can for today’s dastardly deed. When I looked at the colour of the water (and saw no glimpse of the bottom) my fears changed.
I had thought ahead and invited Canberra’s Master of Sarcasm, Ben. I told him to wear his most frolicsome attire. He did.
As you may have noticed, it’s raining. The day went from sunny to a thunderstorm (during exactly this period of time), then sunny again (immediately afterwards, although parts of the road were flooded). In this pic, you can see it’s a sunny day, with rain in the middle – and only in the middle.
When we reached the fountain, I passed the camera to the faithful Ben and headed bravely into battle. (Please note: I’m usually much manlier than I may appear in this clip. And I really was concerned that there might be some form of marine life lurking beneath the surface. I have frog fear.)
Pausing only to pay tribute to “La Dolce Vita”. . .
(http://www.independent.co.uk/multimedia/archive/00088/9295098_88665t.jpg)
I stepped under the spray for a properly frolicsome picture.
Shortly afterward, we fled the scene. I noticed as we walked away that I’d injured myself in the pursuit of awesomeness. My leg was cut, and I had a long trail of blood running down my leg and pooling in my left shoe.
Did I mention the water was green?
My skin, hair and clothes became increasingly itchy and flollopy on the way home, but it was DEFINITELY worth it. I was wet through and smelly, but exhilarated.
Play along at home: Find a fountain, and go frolic in it!
Tomorrow’s awesomeness plan: Share good news.
Fart Fail
I’ve heard back from the “Farting my ABCs” possible-publisher. . . here’s what happened.
As usual, my ears pricked at the sound of a low-grade motorbike. I was near the front door, so I opened it, and actually saw the postman at our neighbour’s mailbox (which is good, because it means that even if there’s nothing in the box, I know the postie has already been). I emptied the hoover bag, and went to the letterbox. There was an envelope. A big one. For me. From that publisher. I could feel that it had about twenty pages in it, which is another Bad Sign. It meant they’d returned the manuscript.
I walked inside, put the vacuum cleaner away, and sat down at my computer, ready to immediately document the results.
It was a rejection, and very clearly a form letter (always disappointing to get no feedback, even though feedback is EXTREMELY rare – in my case, I only get it when I have a contact in the company). I sighed and opened up the blog ready to write.
Then my eye fell on the manuscript itself. It isn’t “Farting my ABCs” after all. It’s the first few chapters of a different book (one I sent to them in November, and which wasn’t written specifically for them – so not something I was holding my breath about).
So I’m still waiting. I’ll let you know when “Farting my ABCs” gets an answer. It’s still probably a “no”. Even “Stormhunter” (best chance this year) is probably a “no.”
Following on from yesterdays blog. . .
Probably the most useful things I discovered from the baby book were:
1. Colick isn’t hereditary (CJ and a cousin of his were both very colicky babies, so that lessened my sheer abject terror slightly).
2. Roughly when to start on solid food, and when kids are old enough to begin destroying things.
3. You need to change nappies 5-10 times a day for the first little while after getting home from hospital (that would have freaked me out).
Weighty Matters
I didn’t lose any weight last week, but as of yesterday (and today) I’m once more heading downward. I’m surprised and pleased that I didn’t totally crash last week, and I expect I’ll reap the benefits this week. Probably.
Today I weighed in at 81.3. Once I get below 80, I’ll take a “maintenance break” for a week or two before tackling the last few kilos into the healthy weight range. I’m confident I’ll make it.
In other news, I’m not pregnant. I need to keep mentioning that, since I look, act and feel pregnant (nauseous, moody, clucky and large of belly). But I do plan to have two kids in the next five-ten years – and that’s a relatively new thought for me.
Last week I read the Bible-sized “What to expect during the first year” from cover to cover (well, I skipped SOME of the disease chapters).
CJ and I plan (“plan” is a four-letter word, I know) to start the process of buying a house when our first child is a year old. We think, for us, that’s the perfect balance between “saving more money for a house deposit” and “biology/rent=waste/this is a small flat”. I read the book to get a better idea of what that first year of motherhood would look like, and how much punishment our rental flat would have to take.
At first the detailed descriptions of yucky baby skin conditions, icky and/or fatal baby sicknesses, and gut-wrenchingly horrible breast issues were slightly difficult to get through. (Although hypercolour poo sounds like a blast.)
Eventually, however, I grew immune. From that point on, reading the book was a lot like playing pretend. I now know roughly how big my kid will be at a certain number of months, and how much mayhem he/she will be causing.
In summary, it’ll be all about breastfeeding, sleeping/not sleeping and poo for about six months, then we’ll be working on solid food at about the time that we’re able to regularly sleep well (so that makes it one challenge at a time). Towards the end of the year there’ll be some ability to move around, but not much. So yes, we need to empty out the lower bookshelves – but putting an armchair in front of a power point will be safe enough.
I’m not well enough to work more than three hours a day (unless it’s writing work), but if I understand my psychological makeup, a baby won’t count as work in that sense. (I am able to do almost anything if I see it as meaningful – so I can’t stand even half an hour as a manipulative salesperson, I CAN do several hours of tutoring work, I can write for ten hours without a break, and I can handle 24-7 baby care about as well as anyone else.) But I have an advantage over most new mums, because I already know what it’s like to be literally driven mad.
So basically, I can’t wait to get started. But I will wait, because I’m going to try to get this one thing right, at least at the beginning 🙂 First of all, I’m going to get healthy and stay there before I start anything.
#131: Take a nap
Today my car is broken (despite having a major service under two weeks ago), and needs a new part.
Today I went to the shops (because we were utterly out of bread) for a “few things” and ended up spending $100. (I looked at the receipt to figure out what happened, and realised that most of it was accounted for by kitty litter, toilet paper, and sanitary pads. So we pretty much just need to cease bodily functions. Stupid bodily functions.) I also forgot to buy bread.
I need to edit three novels, write a twitter tale, and wade through a very unappealing book (“Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern” by Anne McCaffery, who can write well but didn’t).
So I lay down on the couch, pulled my patchwork doona over me, and fell asleep. It was divine.
Play along at home: When’s the last time you had an afternoon nap? Find a sunny spot and enjoy doing nothing (whether you sleep or not). Bonus points if you:
1) Have a patchwork quilt, or an especially soft blanket.
2) Have an assignment due tomorrow/yesterday.
3) Are within sight of a cat. Cats are the experts, after all.
Coming soon:
#124: Frolic in a fountain (thanks to http://the-creamy-middles.blogspot.com)
#56: Spread good news
#95: Secret # 4
S#63/6: Live Music at King O’Malley’s Irish Pub
#132: Try, try again (after an epic fail)
S#63/7: Cellist at ABC’s “Sunday Live”
NB: For newbies: The letter “S” before a number indicates it came from here:
Should
Astonishingly, I’ve done no “real” writing this week (lots of “research” which counts towards my quota, but is a bit dodgy eg. watching “Top Gear” to learn about cars). I suspect the last time this happened for a whole week was 2004.
Still not actually writing right now. . . blogging is different. (Gandalf is now eating normally, by the way.) To me, blogging isn’t “real” writing, because it’s too much fun and the standard is sooo much lower.
I read each blog entry about three times to make sure it makes sense and to check spelling. I read each word of every piece of “real” writing between seven and thirty times, and stop far more often to make many more changes (which I then read over up to five times before moving on).
Writing is a dumb job! Why am I doing this?
I think I just reached enlightenment.
And. . . time to go do some real writing, I think.
s#63/5: Duntroon Military Band
After three seconds, I understood why parents buy violins, tubas and – yes, even drums – for their children. This was an awesomeness activity that literally had all the bells and whistles.
During one piece a grey-haired man from among the nine percussionists played both a gong (one of two) and a bicycle bell. (It was later mentioned that he is one of about ten conductors that have led this marvellous orchestra since 1910.) That piece was called “Circus Ring” and it was aptly named. There were some very silly whistles involved.
As a military band, the players wore uniforms of crisp red and black, and the brass section gleamed like gold. They were also one hundred percent professional, with the kind of unison the aforementioned parents will never hear again. It was glorious! And so LOUD! I barely noticed the grand piano tucked away in a corner, but I certainly took notice of the drums and brass when they spoke.
Another piece was called “Lonely Beach” which was about an American soldier dying alone while surrounded by other soldiers during the attack on Omaha Beach. When the music began, I enjoyed the sound of crashing waves but was slightly disappointed that the band was using a CD instead of just their own music. Except they weren’t. The ocean sound was made by the trumpets (no, I don’t know how). The music interweaved tragedy (a single oboe playing its own melody) and military might. At the crescendo, two more large drums joined with the largest in pounding the beach with shells – from all around (the extra two were placed in the wings), and definitely NOT in 4/4 time.
Play along at home: Go see a band. Any band. Or dust off the flute you’ve got stashed in the basement and spend just half an hour remembering what it was like to make music. Or wait until your housemates are elsewhere and play the saucepans with a wooden spoon – why not?
s#63/4: The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
Who needs hallucinogens when you have this film?
This was quite a strange film. I saw it with two friends, and between the three of us we figured out MOST of the plot. Wikipedia filled in the rest (and kudos to whoever wrote that. . . presumably someone who asked the writers a whole lot of detailed questions).
For the first third of the film I was enthralled. For the second third I was becoming impatient with having too many mysteries going on. In the last third, I was lost – but still enjoying the stunning visuals, costumes and sets.
Doctor Parnassus, his best friend Percy, his daughter Valentina, and Nice Young Man Anton travel together in a wonderfully shabby and elaborate caravan/stage, tempting passers-by to venture into the world of the imagination through the mirror. The tiny down side is that all who venture inside are given choices. The right choice leads to joyful illumination (that’s not the down side). But if you make the wrong choice, you get blown up (seriously). Fundamentally, if you are imaginative you are good and if you make ordinary choices, you belong to the devil (take that, public service). The devil is played by Tom Waits (and usually called “Mr Nick). It’s worth knowing that he doesn’t lie, and is faithful to his wagers. (That helps with understanding the plot.)
The basic plot is that Doctor Parnassus has a gambling problem – he and the devil have made numerous wagers in his thousands of years of life, and because of a previous deal the devil gets to keep Valentina (his daughter) from the day she turns sixteen. This devil also has a gambling problem, however, and bets Doctor Parnassus that audience members travelling through the mirror will belong to him (rather than the doctor). First to five souls wins Valentina (who of course doesn’t know any of this). Which means the show needs to get audience members. . . something they seriously lack.
The plot is complicated by the addiction of Heath Ledger’s character, Tony, who may or may not be evil (but is a GREAT hustler), and (like Anton) falls for Valentina (who, having saved his life, falls for him too).
That’s all you need to know, and it’s plenty more than I knew.
The film is M (I think), and I do want to see it again (if only for the pleasure of understanding roughly what’s happening this time). If it wasn’t for “Avatar”, this film would definitely have won best art direction/visuals. There were a couple of moments of very poor acting, but otherwise the acting was great.
Bizarrely, none of the film’s weirdness was due to Heath Ledger’s sudden death. It was honestly written that way from the start (including the obsession with death). The methods used to deal with his death actually (arguably) add to the film. The actors who stand in for him are all friends of his.
Felicity Banks 