Rudd-afied

Yays forevers! Howard is gones! Oh happy day etc and so on....

Last night I stayed at my parents so we could watch K-O'b sit there trying to contain his joy as Labor romped it home. All week I was saying to people at work and at home how exciting it was because next week this guy:

Whoops, wrong Rudd, I mean THIS guy:

Was going to be the PM. Everyone was like: 'Stef, don't say it, don't get my hopes up!' But it was pretty clear that Ruddy was going to win, the big dork.

And while I joke (and for sure, the highlight of evening was watching Kerry O'Brien try to keep cool, and have a mental at The Chaser's antics) there was a moment during Rudd's speech when I looked over and my mum was crying, and I realised what was happening, and I held her hand.

It was as if all the pessimism she and I had been living through was finally beginning to clear a little. Its not all the way lifted, but I can see a light in the distance now. Howard running the country was slowly over 11 years breaking us down, breaking our spirits. When I saw things happening in our great country that I thought only happened in the third world or in dictatorships, and when I knew the people in my community voted for it, it was hard to see the future.

Mum an I held hands and we knew that, while not out of the woods, we would no longer be shaking our heads in disbelief and despair every weekend at the state that our home was in. He is gone now, and it is time to fix the damage.

I even feel a bit better about my own little life.

Positivity

OK, so after slipping into a sort of....funk (No, I'm NOT going to say the D-word, even though it may be appropriate, I'm not going to go there here, give me some credit). I'm TRYING SO HARD to see the bright side of things. Because happiness follows positive actions and vice versa etc, you know what I mean.

Phew, it's tiring.

So this post is to go through some of the great parts of my life. It is Thanksgiving today, so I'm going to be thankful for all of the wonderful things in my life right now. In no particular order:

I live in a pretty cool share house in suburb de jour, Brunswick.

I just got a kind-of promotion, where I get a pay rise and more challenging work. On top of that, my workmates are all pretty cool people who I respect and get along well with, and I think they might even like me too, which is cool.

After a slow start to the second season, my serial TV show of choice, Heroes, is beginning to pick up some speed, with Hiro back in the present, Peter regaining his memory (and hopefully some balls - Peter needs to seriously STEP IT UP this season and do some Sylar-Adam arse kicking), the revelation of Adam's identity (can't believe I missed that), and a bit of sexy looks between Mohinder-Nikki-Nathan. Me likey! Oooh, and Matt's powers are growing. All good stuff. Keep up the pace Tim Kring, and thanks for listening to the fans.

My housemates have pointed me towards Empire Cafe on Sydney road - good organic coffee, yummy food, a non-pretentious non-threatening atmosphere, and..... FREE WIRELESS!!!! I shall live here now.

I finally bought some super cute capri pants and when I wear them with my red flats it is very Audrey Hepburn and I love it.

I'm surrounded by some pretty wonderful and supportive friends and family. Truly, I'm very very fortunate.

Sleep is getting slightly better.

I have pretty great hair (I was going to add it needs a cut but, no, positive) and it can pull off pretty much any colour, its currently burgundy and I love it, but it is also comfortably blonde. How lucky am I? (I'm aware that this and the capri one are very superficial, but beggars-choosers etc)


So....yeah. I'm a pretty lucky person, and I have a lot to be thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Blogging on a Saturday night while watching Dr Who...

.... Has my life come to this?

I remember when I used to spend all my time on Rotten Tomatoes, arguing why Magnolia was pretentious shit and creating my top ten hottest US actors under 30 (Adrian Brody and Joaquin Phoenix featured heavily, if memory serves). I was friends with American film fans called The Kid with the Helmet, and The Blue Bomber. I don't speak to them anymore. I don't go there anymore.

Back then, it was a pretty shameful thing to do, spend all day on an Internet message board, talking about stuff with people you never meet. I did it for three years. Now, all my friends, even the cool ones....especially the cool ones, either are on Facebook or have a blog or both. Talking on the Internet about stuff with people they have not met. I guess MySpazz and Facebook enable pre-existing physical relationships, but sometimes I miss the mystery and discovery of bonding over the shared love of a hobby comparing tastes and making jokes and arguing.

And somehow I still feel like the biggest nerd on Earth.

Last year I ventured away from the Internet off into the 'real word'. And today I'm finding myself home on a Saturday night blogging watching Dr Who...hmmmm....


Apologies, but I'm finding I'm tired and scattered a lot. I just thought I should blog.


***************

Edit:

Well, I just read something to blog about.

Tell us how you really feel, Deveny.

I mean...Jesus. Do you think she lives in Eltham? You know: hippy non-materialistic, but quietly loaded so they possess that ugly combination of guilt-fuelled preachiness and just a hint of snobbery over all those vulgar masses. Those...bogans.

Now, I don't watch Border Security or McLeod's Daughters or Sea Patrol. I don't like Eddie McGuire. I'm leftist. I was raised by a Broadmedows-Greek dad and a Preston mum. I went to school in Eltham and did and Arts degree at Melbourne Uni. Basically: Reformed bogan.

I mean, why does every leftist in the media come across like a crazy person shouting obscenities on a sidewalk? The annoying thing is that I agree with Deveny on the show and on most issues, but she always comes across like a bitch from hell with a serious superiority complex. What is she trying to achieve? Enlighten the few bogans who read The Age, or further the class divide between the broadsheet-readers and the rest, those uneducated, ugly, bigoted, sheep-like bogans? Those idiots, they sit there unwillingly laughing at themselves with Kath and Kim. Oh save them Catherine!

How am I supposed to solidify myself with the left when I hate their smug guts?

On a side vote, The Sideshow is on... hmmmm, everyone in the audience were late teens/early twenties... people trying to live Good News Week. Much like the performers.

My, I'm being quite the bitch today aren't I?

Where are all the funny girls?

Here they are!

Vanity Fair...What Gives?

This makes me want to vomit. Violently. Do you get the complex metaphor Bono and his band of 20 superhero mega-people are 'putting out there?' You know, that we're all connected and shit. I have one question: Where's Kevin Bacon??? Sigh. Honestly, you're not even trying Bono.

So does this:

Source: Vanity Fair

I love my 'best of' The Police album....why do you do this to me Sting? Why?!?! YOU ARE HOLDING A LUTE.

Fates Worse Than Death...

Kurt Vonnegut has died.


I think I'll go read something of his.


Peace.

Pick ups...

So I've had my fair share of weird pick-up-like experiences...

My first memory of a man's sexual interest in me was when I was 12 and walking to the shops after school in my uniform polo shirt and netball skirt. While crossing at the lights a man stuck his head out of his window and wolf-whistled at me. I was mortified.

Being in a brass band I used to get heaps of lecherous old men telling me how pretty I was over their Carlton Draughts. I was always mortified.

I remember once at a bar a guy bounced a tennis ball at me. I was mortified.

Having a slight disability makes you a target, I guess: Once on a dance floor a guy lifted his pants leg, showed me a giant scar and said "I was in a car accident. I nearly died." And then pointed at my abnormality I was mortified.

Once at the wake of my dad's friend a young man was reintroduced to me after many years (I couldn't remember him) and he said to my dad, in front of me, "You didn't tell me your daughter was so beautiful." We were at a wake. I was mortified.

Last year, the boy I ended up adoring said to me in a drunken stupor that we should bathe together, right there and then. We had barely shook hands at that point. I was mortified!

And then this morning, at the train station as I was quickly running to my next train, I was stopped by a young man who told me he had seen me on the train every day and wanted to ask me out, but didn't know how. So he handed me a book, and said his phone number was in it. I could see my train arriving. He handed me the book. I said thank you and ran to my train.

Yep, you guessed it.

I mean, who does that? The guy left the receipt in the book. He spent $21 on a perfect stranger. Now I feel totally obliged to contact him, just out of courtesy to thank him for the book. I'm not interested in dating anyone right now. I'm taking a break. It tires me just thinking about it. Maybe I'll send him a message and say that I'm happy to chat with him on the train, but a date would be a little full on right now. I found him on MySpace (I hate it but I love it too). He's not my type at all, but he doesn't seem freakish. I guess I'll talk to him.

Just the other day my friend and I were saying how unreal sitcoms were, that strangers do not ask each other out after bumping into each other at the cafe. But I guess they do...



I don't think I have a normal pick-up story. Come to think of it, the whole pick-up thing is pretty weird. Do tell, readers. Do tell.



*********UPDATE***********


So I texted him something along the lines of "Hey ****, its Stef from the train. Thank you very much for the book, I'm flattered. I think going out might be too full-on for me right now, but I'm happy to chat on the train. See ya!" I also started reading the book. He didn't reply. (What's with that? He buys me a book but doesn't reply?)

This morning I saw him get on the train, the look on his face when he saw me was of a kind of embarrassed sadness. I smiled. We shook hands and introduced ourselves. He was shaking, obviously nervous. I smiled again, I wanted to put him at ease, but at the same time didn't want to be flirty. I thanked him for the book and said I'd started reading it and I was enjoying it, I said it reminded me of Bret Easton Ellis (it's actually a deliberate p/m reference to him, with a nice healthy dose of sex-and-the-city commercialism thrown in for good measure. Kind of like Chuck Palahniuk writing chick-lit). Anyway, he told me about himself. I told him very little, and reiterated that I was not interested in dating because I was just out of a really intense year/relationship and was quite enjoying my time alone. This was 100% true. I told him it was very nice to meet him though, and that it took a lot of guts to do what he did, which was great. I had to run to my train. Maybe I'll see him again next week. I'll probably try to avoid it. Its weird, I feel I should talk to him, as he gave me a book. But we didn't click, and I don't want to lead him on, nor do I want an early morning train friend: I quite like dozing.

Yes, he was harmless and sweet. I feel bad because it was all kinda wasted on this old cynic.

The End.

A post inspired by a quick little splinter...

I would like to write about my 'real life' and blog friend (well, lets call her a friend; I certainly like her and hope she likes me back, even though we haven't really ever 'hung out'), Rachael.

I first met Rach at the beginning of 2006 in our Honours class, and to be honest, I felt quite reserved about her at first. Here was this incredibly outspoken, intelligent, articulate, fairly open, slightly androgynous, chick from ANU who marched straight into my Melbourne Uni classes and was stealing the show. After a year off uni I was expecting to be a little out of it, but Rach outright intimidated me with her manner and opinions (not on purpose, I know Rach). As time went on, and I got to spend more class time with Rach, I started to learn more about her personality. There was definite substance behind the confidence, she was very witty and quick, and quite self deprecating. She was also generous and gracious about her intelligence and knowledge, and absolutely open to discussion. Of course, it turned out I was intimidated because of my own insecurities, not because of Rach.

I quickly learned that Rach had a blog, and around the same time I started this craptastic endeavor. Rach's blog has always been a great read. Apart from her accomplished writing skills, her blog is consistently funny and insightful. through the Internet I learned the cyber-Rach, who coexisted with uni Rach. Through both, I came to hold ach on quite the little pedestal throughout the year. Her results and subsequent admission for a PhD is a good confirmation of her position in my mind.

Okay okay, where is all this mundane arse-kissing going, you ask? No, as dishy Rach is, I'm not trying to get into her skinny jeans... She once told me she was 'the worst lesbian ever,' meaning, I gathered, that she does occasionally go for those boy-things you see around the place. I have to confess I'm not even a little bit lesbian, I exclusively go for those boy-things.

I'm writing this because within the last month an on-off heterosexual relationship I was in ended, just like Rach, I got a job at the same company as Rach, and I graduated from my degree, sitting right next to Rach on the night. I also just read this post, which moved me to respond. It has all inspired a post.

She wrote:

It's amazing how quickly love can turn you into someone you didn't want to be.

Lately I've been thinking of getting another tattoo, some words from the Great Gatsby. I can't find the exact quote right now, but it was something like 'there is only the loved and the loving, the busy and the tired.' A neat little aphorism, but one of those things that seem so true it aches. Which one are you? Which have you been? What's next?

Aches is right, Rach. I'm the loving type. I'm sure. And I was someone I didn't want to be. And my experiences over the past year have scared me... I think its how I will always be. I've been consoling myself with the hope that one day I will be in a relationship with love flowing both ways... Isn't that what it is supposed to be like? Rach says in her comments that she is becoming increasingly cynical about the nature of heterosexual relationships... I hope she is wrong, but there is a part of me that understands her completely, and that dreads the upcoming years: the pain, the mistakes I will make. But it does all feel inevitable.

Putting on my graduation robes, cracking it at my mother for playing with my hood, sitting through the ceremony... I realised how much my degree meant to me. I'm the first person in my father's immigrant side to gain a degree, and I did something I really wasn't sure I could do. And my year was both enriched and diminished by one person who in January 2006 I wouldn't have known from Adam, but by May was like a drug.

I've got so much I need to do before I become that inevitable woman Rach mentions. I have things I've got to get out. Because I will be loving, I need to give myself the time before 2 or 3 people take all my energy and I become 'tired' again.

And Rach, it was my honour to sit next to you last night at graduation, you ruled our year. My sincere congratulations, and good luck for your upcoming research. What you wrote really affected me, thank you. And if its any consolation, remember: you communicate. From your sophisticated writing to your cod tattoo, you give out messages, and that's a great advantage. And its pretty cool.

New Job...

So I found a new job. This is noteworthy for a number of reasons:

- It is my first job in 7 months.

- I am an Arts graduate. <<---- *Twilight Zone music*

- It is full-time.

- It is media-related but not "in the media" (my ideal).

- It is not advertising or marketing or sales.

- It is full of young people (albeit some kinda weird), unlike old work.

- I have to get up at 4.15am, 5 days a week. <<---- Yes, true.

- It is kind of what they call "a foot in the door."

I'm pretty happy, I'm single and working on a new wardrobe... All I need now is a share house with friends and this blog may will turn into copies of "The Secret Life Of Us" scripts.



I promise it wont.

Oscars Watch

I just wanna say that last night I was thinking that all the predicted acting winners will win, except Eddie Murphy - Arkin will win that one.

So far I'm right, actor and actress have not been announced yet - but lets face it, those two awards are super predictable this year, Mirren and Whitaker. There's no way of proving it, but I know I was right.

A full wrap-up tomorrow when I get to watch the whole tape - I have to tape it because I have tap class tonight.

Go Helen Mirren, she's super cool.

I am afraid of big things in the ocean

Ships, and also whales.

*shudder*

I'm so not cool with it.

Jeremy Piven...The Wiki Issue

This is Jeremy Piven:



Here he is at the 2005 Emmys with his mum (she is always his date):


Here he is playing his (deserved) Emmy winning role as Ari Gold on HBO's Entouage:





Here's the thing...Wiki thinks he's gay:
"He is a noted spokesperson for GLAAD, and is one of the more prominemt gay actors in hollywood."

Now...Jeremy Piven may wear a rug, he may be a complete sleaze bag, and he is definitely a bit campy, but is he gay? Recently I spotted some paparazzi pictures of him with a woman at Starbucks or something...He also said in this week's OK Magazine about taking his mum to award shows: "Even if I had a girlfriend, I'd still take mum....there's something about parading a girlfriend in front of the press that seems wrong."

Either its all an elaborate scam to cover up his relationship with his "best friend" John Cusack, or Wiki's got it wrong!

Anyway, here's 9+ minutes of more Ari Gold magic if you liked what you saw. Its pretty great stuff.



Gay or not gay...? You decide.

Bloggn' in '07

From Thailand with...

This was the view from our balcony on Koh Tao in Thailand. Quite spectacular, yes. Here and Now: CFT, apart from having the best location and views on Koh Tao, was quite an unpleasant place to stay. The staff were outwardly unfriendly and unaccommodating, never displaying any sense of consideration or concern for guests - strange considering that was basically, you know, their job. For a place that was supposed to be all new-age positivity promoting good energy, the energy was pretty bad. Then again, it has been my general experience with new-age types that they are not the most moral of creatures, despite their self-proclaimed on-to-it-ness. But overall, Thailand = good.

And so a new year begins. While there are a million things I could blog about - new tap dance classes, job searching, new friends, relationships, how much I love "What Goes Around" by JT, the prospect of FINALLY moving out of home - I prefer to blog more about popular cultural issues I know about, like Joss Whedon leaving Wonder Woman (seriously, I wrote a thesis on Internet fan communities in Cultural Studies and I STILL DON'T GET THIS GUY!), and Oscar Nominations. You know, the real important stuff.

I'm still deciding whether to morph this blog into a cultural critique blog or to just start up a more "professional" one. Once I've made my decision I'll let you know. I will be starting a Flickr account though - Yay!

OK, that's enough.

OMG! How long has it been?

December is a BIG month for me, especially this year.

- Results came in. Just off the average I wanted, but not so bad that I can complain and be depressed. Really, I'm kinda just proud for finishing and doing it without any major breakdowns. Some minor ones, though. My thesis got a good enough mark though, and that was my baby. So, I feel content and a bit frightened about the future as I've redefined slack about the whole "making something out of that almost pointless but oh-so-stimulating Arts degree" thing.

- Turned 23 on the 12th. Yay. My friends got me Arrested Development Season 2. Love em.' I do feel a bit older this year, like the age is significant. I guess it's that I'm well into my 20s now and its full-on life stuff.

- Dad's birthday on the 15th, two cousins on the 18th and 20th...it's madness.

- Christmas.

- Thailand. 3 weeks. Leave on Christmas Day. Ugh. It's my first time overseas and I swing from being super giddy with excitement, scared out of my wits, and so over it within the space of an hour. I will read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (because I never got round to it and apparently someone dies), Siddhartha (to get me in the mood for some enlightenment), and, if I have time, Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis (because sex, drugs and rock 'n roll's my bag baby). I am visiting Khaosan Road, Koh Pha-Nang, and Koh Tao. I will sit on the beach and drink and get sun burnt and have fun.

- I've had to say goodbye to a dear friend who's going to Canada for a year and had some heart-to-hearts with him, who also left for Brisbane for a month the other day. Draining. Thailand's going to be reflective and rejuvenating, I think.

- None of this is easy when Melbourne skies look like a sign of the Apocalypse. I just want to sleep.

- Its been a big year what with the thesis and the falling for someone I shouldn't pretty tragically and Bobby Flynn and all. But, you know, I probably wouldn't change a thing. It wasn't as bad as last year when I crashed my car or 1995 - the year the devil controlled my fortune. Next year's goals are to get a job in "the industry," move out, and start to repair my increasingly fragile emotional state to become more emotionally independent and resilient. My moods need less extremes, methinks. Its funny, Sagittarius apparently has a great year ahead, but I recently discovered that my moon (moods) is in Cancer and my ascendant (how you project) is Pisces, two really emotional, sensitive, water signs. I'm pretty classic Sag on the outside, but that realisation has really made sense. I'll try to keep it in mind.


Thanks very much for reading this (pretty lame) blog this year. I may post an entry from Thailand, but you never know. The blog culture is really quite awesome and next year I hope to be more prolific and interested in it. Thanks to all my readers who comment (all 4 of you or so) and thanks especially to Susanne, Rach, and Amy for being new friends and "honours-sistas" - cool chicks they are indeed.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year everyone!

Damien...

Edited: 5th December 2006

OMG, when I published this post, my post count was 666!!!!!

Ahh...hahahahahaha! See what I did there? I've put a picture of Damien from The Omen instead of this Damien (the actual subject of this post):

That's called an intertextual reference, kids, and I hope you write that down. It is oh so clever of me to do. You see, by making this intertextual reference I'm drawing attention to the double meaning inherent in the name "Damien." Apart from being a common boy's name it was also used to name the son of the devil in The Omen and has since been associated, in pop culture at least, with all things evil. And therefore by drawing attention to this particular reading of the name "Damien" I am making a connection between Australian Idol and Satan.

Pictorially it would look like this:

=

Except, as you would have hopefully gathered by now, I don't culturally or symbolically equate Idol with Satan. In fact, I really like Australian Idol and I don't really like Satan (well, you know, except at certain times, like Christmas). So what's with little evil Damien? Nothing. I just like that image, wanted you all to know that I know who won Idol, and wanted to seem all pop-cultural and intertextual. There, you got me.

OK, on with the wrap-up.

Very interesting year. Let me begin by saying THANK GOD IT WASN'T AS BAD AS LAST YEAR. I think that the four seasons of Idol have taught me one thing: Australian Idol voters generally vote on voice. Pretty much every year they've voted for vocal uniqueness and ability over "packageness" (Kate deRough kinda counts, it was an all-round dud year). I mean, really, they say its a singing contest, but because a) being a pop star isn't about singing, some of the biggest pop and rock stars can't sing, and b) being a reality show that shows more than just the stage performances, we are asked to judge them as 'people:' its not really just a singing contest. But it seems that that's what 'the public' want. They've voted the blandest, most unmarketable people as Idols pretty much every year, people that would NEVER GET A RECORD DEAL:

Christian, 'ethnic,' Fro, weird, No Personality = FULL MONG*

Socially stunted, 'ethnic,' overweight, didn't even want to be there really = FULL MONG

Overweight, bland, just...nothing = FULL MONG

Moves like a epileptic, foreign, bad teeth, bland = FULL MONG

Why? Because they can sing. And that's why I like Idol.

You see, Idol didn't wreck the music industry. It doesn't herald the pathetic consumer-driven post-capitalist state of modern culture that permeates into the decadent doomed nation of losers we all are. No, that's been happening for ages. The 'culture industry,' yes Adorno, has been operating for quite some time, and culture has been commodified for, I dunno, only MILLENNIA. Audiences have always been voting for their idols: by buying albums. With Idol, however, instead of getting to choose from a preset of choices determined by record executives, audiences get, to an extent, to pick people at grass-roots levels. And it seems they like the underdog with talent over pre-packageness. Predictable to an extent, but also kinda sweet.

Now, before you all start with the "But Stef, like, its a TV show, with its own agenda and how much control do we really have and its all still part of the system and, like, what about true artist who do it outside the system and make real music, blah blah blah..." Well, to that I say, each to his own. I don't believe that mass-produced music is overly damaging to other sorts of artists. Youth culture latches to all sorts of trends, mainstream and/or counter-cultural, and I don't see any of these practices dying-out. The only form of music I worry about is classical, which youth do seem to be rejecting. It's sad, because its my favorite, really.


Anyway, it was a funny night because all the past Idols and not-quite Idols sang (except, you know, the fat one) and they were lame and then Klancie rode a horse and there were medleys and stuff. It was ace:

Yo Yo Yo we's the Young Divas and we REAL girls with REAL curves. Bootylicious y'all!

Is it still a secret that he's gay? I can't keep up.

BAAH HAHAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!! HA!

Shannon loves his fans. Wouldn't you?

His guitar fretboard says "Lynyrd Skynyrd" for you kids playing at home.

Oh Bobby. Ahem. Excuse me for a moment...

You were robbed, Ricky. ROBBED I TELLS YA!

"Damo, has anyone ever told you you look like Pippin the mischevious hobbit from Lord of the Rings?"

"Yes, yes they have."

"You're even Scottish too!"

"Kill me."

So all in all, a good Idol year. We got Bobby Flynn, after all. And my deepest apologies (God, as if ANYONE gives two hoots) for only covering half the Idol year and also the lateness of this post. Its been a stressful few months, what with thesis and essays and boys and friends and Thailand. I promise soon I will be back to normal.

* Courtesy Kyle Sandilands

Robert Altman

I was going to write a post about Altman, who was one of my very favorite filmmakers. He was consistently great; Gosford Park was a masterpiece made so late in his career. Instead, I'm going to just show this clip, which I think speaks for itself. Popeye was not a critical success, like many of Altman's films, but I grew up watching it over and over again. RIP Robert Altman.










I really am liking embedding YouTube vids now that I know how.

You annoy me to no end!

To all the commuters who press the buttons on button-controlled train doors before the beep sound and flashing light with that stupid bloody perplexed look on your face like "ugh, there's something wrong with this door, stupid door, I'll just keep pressing this button and look angry:"

See post title.

Idiots.


Ahem.


Anyway, on Saturday night I saw an independent theatre group, Actually Theatre, perform The Eggman Cometh. It was written by my friend Jesse and starred some peeps from my High School. It was staged in an allyway behind the Troika Bar. It was about these two characters, Mummy and Daddy, who lived in a 50's suburban cage. They were visited by The Eggman, a showman who rewarded them when they produced eggs and punished them when they rebelled. Mummy and Daddy were battery hens, but they were also 'the worker,' and the Eggman was the 'capitalist industry' who exploited them. It was all very postmodern. In fact, when it was over, I said to my friends "well, that was all very postmodern, wasn't it?"

Today, Trumpet played me a song by The Bedroom Philosopher.

This song:



Sigh. I think he's trying to tell me something.

It's all very postmodern, isn't it?

Boobies

Last Wednesday, I went for my annual physical (well, I had to get my shots for Thailand, so I got a "once over" while I was at it). I had my blood and urine test (cholesterol still going down, take THAT genetic disposition), a smear test, and a breast check.

The breast check was by far the most awkward part of the appointment. Lying on my back topless while my doctor got to second base with me was kind of weird. She didn't even stroke my hair first or cuddle me. The closest I got to dirty talk was "any breast disease in the family?" It was the least physically intrusive of all the tests, and yet it seemed the most intimate. What is it about tits?

Then three things happened at the weekend:


1. Belinda Emmett died




Awe man. This really upset me. And I'm not a huge fan of Rove or anything. I mean, I was like everyone else of the belief that, you know, he got shit pretty quickly. But, you know, he married her when he knew she was going to die. That's so beautiful, really. And as sick as she had been looking over the past three years, it was still a bit shock to me when she passed away. It was hard to concentrate on my Doctor Who essay, despite David Tennant's dishiness.


2. Kylie Made Her Comeback

Get it?! She's a fighter! Get it??! Get it??!!!! "Meow!" Get it!!!???

Kylie - botox, waist, bum and all - made her triumphant return to Australia's mid-size stadiums, complete with perfume and ugly Vogue cover. Now, far be it for me to bag Australia's Very Own Pop Princess, I mean, I sure don't look that good in an old Cats outfit. But I generally like my Pop Princesses to be able to at least lip sync properly if they can't sing in tune. That goes for my Rock Kings as well, actually:

3. Move over, Skeletor

Hi, I'm Sarah Murdoch. I'm rich, beautiful and in a happy relationship with Rupert Murdoch's son. And I care about things. I'm very involved in the world around me.

Eddie made some calls. He's replaced Jessica Rowe with the Patron of The McDonald Foundation, a Director of The Australian Ballet, an ambassador for The Murdoch Children's Reseach Institute, and the patron of The National Breast Cancer Foundation. She's also a mother of two (Kalan and Aidan - FFS), and a devoted wife. She obviously wants to 'give back.' She's also a Wonderbra model and Bonds Girl. Just to make Jessica feel ever so secure and not threatened at all. *NOW* I FEEL SORRY FOR SKELETOR. The depression, the laugh, the husband - nup. Sarah Murdoch? LEAVE JESSICA ALONE EDDIE! FFS! HAS SHE NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH??

Why am I blogging like a little bitch? I dunno. It seems breast cancer and high-profile Australian girls-next-door (Livvie, Jane McGrath, Janelle Kidman, Raelene Boyle, and of course, Janette Howard) are inexplicably linked...

But wait!

I'm a high-profile (stay with me) girl-next-door! I'm the quintessential girl-next-door! I'm fucking Joey Potter!

Lucky I had a breast check.

What the fuck is with this cancer man? Its its nature's way of keeping populations in check? Whats with the breasts? Is it because breasts are so... evocative? So integral to the common concept of the beautiful female form? So prevalent? Whatever it is, breast cancer is in vogue and its not going away. I'm going to continue feeling sorry for little Rove, hanging shit on The Kylie, and hating Sarah Murdoch. And I predict Bec Hewitt, Melissa Doyle or Johanna Griggs gets it next.

OK, don't ask me what this post was about. I guess its just a collection of thoughts on loosely connected stories. I'm finished Uni! OH MY GOD WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE?!

Haircut tomorrow. Yaya's Birthday today. I slept for about 15 hours straight on Monday night.

Glass House Shattered*

Oh yeah.

Well, it's finally happened. The ABC's most once-kinda-funny show, The Glass House, has been axed. Sorry, not axed, just not renewed...yeah.

The Age links this axing to the current bruhaha surrounding the ABC's political bias content issue. Apparently The Glass House was "at the centre of a storm over allegations of anti-Howard Government bias."

And yet Courtney Gibson, head of ABC Arts and Entertainment, has maintained there is no link:

She went on to say that comedy and satire is exempt from the new editorial
policies and assured listeners that satirical program The Chaser will
return and that Wednesday night timeslot will be reserved for Australian-made comedy. the age

I'm in two minds about this. There are a few issues here.

The first is that I wasn't sure about comedy being exempt from the bias issue:

Insiders complain that the reach of the strict guidelines is too wide. They
include programs on the arts, education, history, Aboriginal affairs, lifestyle,
science, health and even comedy chat shows. the age 16/10/06

These "strict guidelines" and the so called bias watching going on with The Glass House could be different things, but I smell a panic-station response from Gibson there.

On the other hand, I tend to go with Gibson on this because, lets face it, Corinne, The Glass House lost it two years ago and you're beating a dead horse. The ABC knows that and that's why they're not renewing. And don't tell me about the ratings being good this year. Its the ABC, you think they care?

Maybe its a combination of the two issues: content and quality. Maybe the ABC will tolerate biased stuff if its of good quality . Take this excerpt from an interview with the Chaser guys from year ago when they were promoting The Chaser Decides:

Reucassel believes Denton’s absence will be felt in their dealings with the
ABC.
"Denton has the status of a god around here and that helped, and I hope
that they trust us in the same way."
The answer to that question may be found
in fact that the ABC has appointed Rehame to monitor all of the ABC’s election
coverage.
The national broadcaster says that net covers everything, including
The Chaser Decides.
"I think that’s quite ridiculous," Reucassel says. Firth
agrees, describing the move as absurd.
"It’s all in the voice," he says,
before declaring loudly: "John Howard is the greatest," in a tone that probably
impressed a Canberra staffer reading a Rehame transcript, but doesn’t exactly
leave the listener convinced.
"We are claiming we have the most unbiased
coverage in the history of the universe," Firth adds.
"We’re going to ignore
all that, because you have to. The ABC has its own little layers of management
to deal with that."
That said, Reucassel points out the ABC has historically
been "very sensible" about understanding the difference between satire and
straight reportage.
"They recognised there were different standards for
satire than news. As there must be when you’re dealing with comedy. It’s very
different to news. It’s very different to reporting." The Age. 16/9/04

The Chaser, Andrew Denton, Kerry O'Brian, Media Watch etc... all get away with it (and always have, content watching is clearly not new) because they've earned a reputation for having a certain quality. I'm afraid eluding to a sexual relationship between Bush and Howard in between double entendres about Dave Hughes buying sex is just not worth renewing.

The Glass House never really cut it. I watched it because it was on after whatever BBC comedy program they had on and before At The Movies. Sometimes they have funny guests on.

Put The Chaser's War on Everything in that timeslot PLEASE ABC! That way I wont miss it on Friday nights!

* Forgive me. Come on, I had to.

Ways to know you're uncool...#106

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Spelling/Grammar mistakes: >3

Months I've been out of the band: 4

Time it took to write and work up courage to send: 1/2 Hour

Procrastination out of doing thesis: Priceless.