Two months in

 I started the Regime two months ago.

The Regime?

Yes, the naturopath sponsored diet regime where I cut the following things entirely:

• Gluten
• Dairy
• Processed sugar
• Alcohol
• Caffeine.

Some have referred to this as the 'Fun Free' eating plan. Others see it completely unacceptable, particularly around the caffeine and alcohol-free existence. "I can't survive without my morning coffee!" they wail. "How do go out to dinner and not have a wine?"

The answer. Easily. 

Others have questioned why I'm gluten free if I'm not coeliac. Gluten, like dairy, and sugar and alcohol and caffeine can cause inflammation in your body. Eliminating it starts the healing process and rids your body of toxins. You feel lighter. 

Anyway, two months in on this plan:

• I've lost six kilos. 
• My head is clear
• I've got a ton of energy
• My body no longer aches
• Recovery from exercise is a lot quicker
• My clothes feel looser
• I can't remember the last time I took an antacid before bed
• I'm reading food labels carefully
• And this way of eating is not an imposition. At all.
• My cheekbones are showing again

I gave up caffeine eight years ago - one of the best things I've ever done. As I love the taste of coffee, the whole ritual of having coffee with people, almond decaf lattes (or a Melbourne Wanker) as it's known in Darwin, is my staple. Decaf, like gluten free bread, has got a lot better over the years. 

Bread is no longer a staple, but a treat. A sometimes food. 

Subway gluten free wraps with chicken strip, no cheese, and lots of salad are my takeaway staple. 

I've made this work. 

Two months on, I'm not craving sugar. While buying a coffee at the work coffee shop I was told of the evil lemon curd donuts on sale. Nope, all good. In the test labs in Darwin, where there are piles of lollies around - I'm not interested. (but a small packet of salt and vinegar chips - I'll take them). 

I'm reading the labels. If a food is showing a warning that it may contain gluten or dairy, I'll take it. May contain means there might be a trace. I'm fine with that. It's a bit like being in a restaurant and asking for gluten free bread. When the servers ask if I'm a coeliac, I just say no - I'm intolerant. (Or a wanker - that normally gets a smile). 

That I feel so good is amazing. At training last night, Chuck made comment that my muscles are starting to show. While doing tricep dips, he made comment that my guns were starting to come out. Maybe he was being nice, but he's not the type, preferring to torture me instead. 

I've got the energy to do more. It's great. 

So, what now?

Well, chatting to my naturopath over email, I'm committing to another month of this. I'm liking how I feel. The only element I'm bringing back is alcohol. I drink so little, it's okay. The rest of it, I'll keep them out of daily life. 

And yes, it's a bit boring, as I sit here with a cup of blueberries and a spoonful of coconut yogurt. And sure, when you go out, the menu is reduced - but steak is gluten free. As are rice paper rolls. And fresh fruit. And protein.

Also, I like that my body is feeling much freer - moving more easily. And the bundles of energy. 

Why would I want to go back to where I was?

Today's song: 

Retribution

It was bound to happen. 

After yesterday's display of passive/aggressive angst, I half-knew I was going to come home to some form of the cat getting back at me for the worm and flea treatment. I mean, the horror!

A number of friends related similar tales of their beloved kitties and the evil flea treatment. Apparently, it's a universal theme. 

Wednesday is my designated office day. I thought the cat and my relationship had healed after the problems of the day before. I said goodbye to him, asking that he look after the place, as I always do. 

This afternoon somewhat later than I wanted, I came home to carnage. 

How an average kind of black cat can produce so much vomit is beyond me. 

Along with a bit of a runny bum, his lordship had vomited all over the flat.

Joy. 

There was vomit on the scratching pole. Vomit on the mat which I had only washed a few weeks before I went to Darwin last. There was a heap of vomit near the couch. And worst of all, he'd spewed on the bed. Twice. 

But you can't be mad with him. 

I cleaned up the worst of it. Throwing the floor mat in the wash and stripping the bed, I was late for my designated Wednesday torture session with Chuck. 

Thankfully the puking seems to have stopped as has the trots. Although he appears fine, he's a bit clingy. Rather than sit where he upchucked on the bed, he's sitting by the window on the other side of the bed. (I've cleaned off the duvet too - it's all been dealt with).

Strangest of all, tonight he asked to come up for a cuddle. He nestled into the crook of my arm as I lay on the couch. Normally, he will stay for a few minutes. This time, he started purring and stayed for half an hour. 

He's back demanding treats and ignoring me now. 

Cats. What can you do with them? 

Today's song: 

The Worst Person in the World

The worst person in the world?

That would be me. 

According to the cat. 

It was a simple act. You'd think I'd run over his puppy, stole his girlfriend and turned up at his wedding wearing a white dress and gave him an excruciatingly bad haircut.  

What have I done that has brought on such angst?

I put a spot of flea and worm treatment on the back of his neck.

As an inside cat, with no contact with the outside world, I don't do this often. 

Regardless, he's spent the day with his nose completely out of joint. If I went into a room, he ran out of it. If I went to give him a pat, he ran away. He wouldn't sleep on his bed, instead lying in the windowsills. If I went near him, he gave me stink eye. He didn't even demand treats during the day. Oh, and he's been rolling around on the mats trying to get the stuff off his neck. He never does that. He's been acting like a beagle. 

You'd swear the stuff was poisonous. It's not. But according to him I've slathered him crap. 

Yes, I am that awful. I'm such a bad mother. 

All day. All day I've been frozen out. 

He deigned to let me pat him when I fed him dinner at 6 p.m.

And after going out for an hour for a walk, he appeared to be in a better mood. He's sitting next to me in the windowsill, probably plotting murder. 

I'm glad I never had kids. 

And the next time he gets a worm and flea treatment, I'll do it at his yearly check up at the vets - and I'll let the vet put it on when he's wrapped up like a sushi roll and he can moan about the gel on his neck and the indignity of being poked and prodded by the vet. 

And this is why his claws don't get clipped. 

Bloody animals. 

Today's song: 

I am not watching Love Island

 Sure, I like a bit of reality television. I am a devotee of Married at First Sight. I'll do me a bit of Masterchef, but no other cooking program. At least the contestants there become friends and have a positive competitive experience. There's no gaslighting or bitching. They get on with it in a supportive atmosphere. 

Then there's The Block, which probably should have been superannuated years ago. Again, people are being creative, for money, in overly expensive houses that only an elite group of people can afford. It can get a little bitchy, but not so much that it's unwatchable. It's ocker sensibilities are the most offensive thing about it. 

But Love Island...

There's more filler and flesh than brain cells. 

There's lots of tattoos and little clothing. 

And I can't see the point of it, other than to make drama.

At least I had the good grace to turn to something else pretty quickly. 

And that is why we have freedom of choice. 

Today's song: 

Scoot - Or the one about Olds Dogs and New Tricks

I've been scooter curious for a while. As much as I like the look of them, I hate them as well. They're a bloody nuisance on the roads. From what I hear, they're a big reason the accident and emergency numbers have been up. Then there's the convenience factor and the fun factor and the irritation factor and I think why bother?

But in Darwin, they're a good way to get from one end of town to another - especially at night, when you don't want to walk, but a scooter will get you there faster and with a bit more security. 

So, I've made it a bit of a mission to learn how to ride one? 

What could go wrong? (other than brain bleeds and broken bones)

As I said before, I'm a bit curious about this scootering thing. But rather than make a complete ass out of myself in Darwin, in The Wet, I've made it a bit of a mission to learn how to do this around here. 

And sure, the place where scooters go to bed is just around the corner and I could ask somebody to give me some lessons. 

Instead, I've enlisted my neighbour, Rocky, to give me a hand. He's letting me have a go on his scooter in the driveway, where all good people learn to ride things with wheels. I remember learning to ride a bike in the driveway at home when I was five. 

There are some differences to the scooter he's loaning me and the ones you rent on the street. Rocky's one is tethered to the banister downstairs. It doesn't cost anything to take it for a spin outside. It's a bit heavy, but allegedly so are the ones you rent on the street. And our driveway is long, but not that long, so you don't get to get up any speed. 

And Rocky doesn't have a helmet for me to use...

I gave the scooter a go over the weekend. I felt really unsteady, although I didn't fall off. I sort of wanted to go faster, but as I didn't have a helmet, part of me was asking what happened if I went head-first into the bins. 

After a few minutes, I put the scooter back under the stairs and thought better of the whole venture. 

Maybe I'll try in again in a few days. 

Or maybe I'll accept my limitations, the fact that I'm older, that my balance is a little dodgy and I'm generally risk averse when it comes to head and spinal injuries and give up on the whole lark. 

At least I've never left the driveway. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: From 200 Questions

'Saturday night's alright for writing, Saturday night's alright..." Why do I have this song traipsing through my brain as I do my ironing and watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy. How much more fun can a girl have? 

Let's get on with the questions, which have been brought to us by Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

What’s your guilty pleasure? 

I have a few guilty pleasures, but please don't tell anybody, but I rather like romantic comedies and will watch, and re-watch daft romcoms. I know, I should be watching more high-brow stuff, but rom-coms let me decompress. Nothing too arduous. You don't have to think. And they have happy endings. What more do you want?

Oh, and my eggs are always eaten with tomato sauce. So, kill me. 

Which meal is your favorite: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

I love breakfast. It sets you up for the day. Okay, at the moment I have a protein shake most days of the week, but on weekends, I love going out for breakfast. I love when somebody else cooks my breakfast. Like this morning, I had poached eggs on gluten-free toast with smoked salmon and tomato sauce (Yes, I like my eggs with smoked salmon and tomato sauce. Yes, I am a bogan.) Any day when somebody cooks my breakfast is a good day. 

What do you do when you want to chill out after a long day?

Normally one of three things. Exercise, whether that be a walk or spend some time in the gym. Or I veg out in front of the television. Or I read whatever I'm reading at the time. 

How would you spend your ideal weekend?

An ideal weekend would have some, or all of the following elements: 

• A five-star hotel room with a big bath. 
• A theatre performance
• Something great to read
• Some very lovely meals, spent with friends
• And a lot of downtime where I don't have to do anything - preferably getting a lot of time in bed to read. 

Do you listen to podcasts, or mostly just music? What’s your favorite podcast?

I mostly listen to audiobooks. I love being told a story. Sometimes this changes over to music, often when I'm working, and occasionally I listen to podcasts - normally true crime of history podcasts. But I still prefer audiobooks. I listen to one or two a month. 

Do you prefer to go to the movies or watch movies at home?

Definitely a movie going. I see around a movie a week. I love the whole experience of being in a cinema and not being able to be distracted. At home, I tend to do about three things at once and miss a lot of the plot. 

What was your favorite TV show growing up?

M*A*S*H. I still get a bit nostalgic when I hear the theme song. And when you watch the re-runs, you realise that it's still very funny. (Frank Burns eats worms...)

What’s your favorite TV show now?

At this moment, I am loving big time on Nobody Wants this on Netflix. Yes, it's rom-com trash, but it's a great. I'm a big fan of Kristin Bell and Adam Brody. 

How would you spend your birthday if money was no object? 

I'd be in Paris. For at least a month. I'd probably be enrolled in a language school and visiting wonderful museums and galleries and getting my French up to where it should be. I'd be making French friends. I think this would be bloody marvelous. 

What’s your favorite season? What do you love most about it?

Autumn (or Fall, if you're American). I love autumnal colours. I love that the heat of Summer has gone for the year. I love that the days are shorter and that you can hunker down more easily. I love that the food becomes heartier. There are lots to love about Autumn. 

Do you prefer camping or going to the beach? 

Camping is my idea of hell. Give me the beach any day. Sure, you get sand in places you don't want it, but I love being in the water and the sound of the waves. Summer or Winter, the beach is great. 

Which phone app do you think you use the most?

That would be one of the socials - Facebook or Instagram, through which I sort of run my life. Messenger is a great way to keep in touch with people. 

Other apps in daily use are my banking apps, Pokemon Go, the Bureau of Meteorology app and the odd game or two. 

Would you instead cook, order delivery, or go out to eat? 

The thing I probably wouldn't do is order in. I get food deliveries probably once every three months - there are too many good places to eat within walking distance of my place, and the delivery drivers on bikes are the scourge of the streets (and your food often turns up cold). 

In second spot is cooking. I live alone. I don't mind cooking, but I would rather cook for people. 

Thankfully, the Melbourne food scene is incredible, and especially where I live, good food is plentiful, and if you're smart, economical. 

How do you drink your coffee?

My normal coffee order is what is known as "The Melbourne Wanker." It's a large almond, decaf latte.

Why, why, why, you ask? I love the taste of coffee, but I don't drink caffeine. I'm also trying to keep my dairy intake down as I run better without it. Thankfully, decaffeinated coffee is a lot better than it used to be. If I can't get almond milk, then I'll have oat milk. If there's no oat milk, then I'll run to low fat dairy milk as a last resort. I don't like soy milk at all. 

If you could have any animal as a pet, what would you choose? 

I would never keep one of these, as ethically, it's so wrong, but I love the thought of having lion or tiger as a pet. I don't like the thought if the size of the litter tray, but I love big cats. 

So, for the moment, I'll keep my chosen pet, Lucifer, my black cat, who is currently asleep on my bed, and unlike a lion or tiger, won't eat my face off in the night. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Lee

Movie Number 33 of 2024

The Movie: Lee

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Stars: 4

On leaving the cinema last night, Jay said "This could have been a lot more interesting if they looked at Lee Miller's life before World War II. She was friends with Picasso. She knew everybody in Paris at the time."

I disagree. I thought that Lee was fit for purpose, looking at the iconic photographer's life in this patch of time was just about right. Sure, it's not a perfect film, but it is very good, looking at Lee Miller's (Kate Winslet) life as she meets her English second husband (Alexander Skarsgard), her group of friends in France and her work with photojournalist Davy Scherman (Andy Samberg, in a rare straight role) and the incredible work she did as a photojournalist for British Vogue documenting WWII and some of the Nazi atrocities of the time. She was the first photographer to shoot the concentration camps at Dachau on its liberation. Photos which are now burned in most people's psyches. 

This movie is Kate Winslet's passion project, although the movie doesn't come across as one. Miller was an iconoclast. A woman born out of her time. A hard-drinking, heavy-smoking woman without limits. Best known for being Man Ray's lover muse and having a stellar set of friends in pre-war Paris, Miller is incensed when she is not able to use her photographic talents om the front line. After some heavy badgering of her editor, Audrey Withers (Andrea Riseborough) she sets of for the front in France. It is here that she and her Life Magazine partner, Davey Scherberg document the horrors and humanity of war. 

Counterpointing this is Lee being interviewed by a young journalist (Josh O'Connor). The stories of her life are told as she and the journalist work though her photos thirty years on. It's an effective way to provide a context to her life and works. 

What I liked about this is that it was unflinching in the way that Lee's experience during the war was unflinching. Rarely without both a drink and smoke in her hand, she wheedles her way into many situations nobody in their right minds would want to be in. She was in St Malo while it was being heavily bombed. Famously, she was photographed taking a bath in Hitler's bathroom after his death. And the scenes at Dachau are visceral. 

Ellen Kuras's direction is assured. Best known for her cinematography, her vision is assured and keeps in mind Miller's photographic aesthetics while keeping the action moving along. I was thoroughly engaged throughout the two hours of this film. This was not and effort, and somewhat surprising seeing that I'd come to the film after a red-eye flight that morning. 

For art and history lovers, this is definitely worth a look. Jay and I disagree about the scope of the film, and that is okay. I think if you were to look deeper into Miller's life there would be enough material to create many films. For the moment, this one effectively managed to do the job it set out to do. 

It's definitely worth a view. 

Today’s Song:

The Lap Pool

 My trip to Darwin is coming to an end. I'm mostly packed. In an hour I'll make my way to the airport, doing the Uber shuffle for the red-eye flight back to Melbourne. On arrival in Melbourne, I'll pick up the car and make my way home, where Lucifer will be waiting. 

Tonight has been about relaxing. Packing, knitting and getting some much-needed exercise in before the flight. Tonight, after meeting up with Elles and Kos, I went for my constitutional 20 lengths of the pool. 

I miss the pool when I go home. I love that I can just throw on my bathers and head downstairs for a swim after work. I love that I can go down at night and swim slow laps while watching Darwin go on around me six floors below. I love having the pool to myself, avoiding the children and the couples smooching and every other sort you get at the hotel pool. 

Going down earlier, I was happy. There was one other person in the pool and she was doing slow laps too. We kept out of each other's way. She was doing freestyle. I was sticking to my dreadful, but effective breaststroke, mainly to keep my hair out of the water. 

We did our laps in peace. 

I got to the end of my 20 lengths, feeling good about the swim when we started chatting. Normal pool chatter. It's not unexpected. I talk to everybody. The normal conversation ensued. What are you doing up here? Checking out their rental property. How do you find Darwin? What's the best bit. A pleasant conversation. 

As she was an owner, she asked me if I would like to check out the lap pool.

Too right!

The lap pool is available only to residents and not hotel guests. My lap swimming random person owned one of the higher up units. This was my chance to have a look around this mythical place, which resides behind a high wall and gets little use (and even fewer children). 

Of course I jumped at the chance. 

This is what I love about Darwin. People are very friendly. My new mate, Jan, rents her apartment out on AirBnB. She runs a consultancy. Her two grown kids will visit next year in the dry season. We talked about Malaysia (where she is from) travels, and where to go in Darwin for dinner in the wet. 

I also ended up doing 40 lengths of the pool according to my watch. 

After, I thanked my new first name friend for her generosity and pondered this private pool. It's about 20 meters long. It's behind a large wall. Although quiet, it has no view, unless you count the office block next door. 

I'm glad I got to experience it, but I think I'll stick to the main pool. I like the view of the sunset as I swim. 

Right, off to the airport. Melbourne, here I come. 

Today's song:

Shhhh... it's oh so quiet.

The Silent Book Club

6.30 pm Wednesdays at The Last Supper on Cavanagh Street, Darwin. 

Bookings Essential

Writing, and reading, is an insular, and sometimes lonely occupation, so when I was told of this Silent Book Club meeting at The Last Supper, I jumped at the chance. I mean, you pay ten bucks to save your place, which is redeemable on food and drink at the bar. Then, you take your book, go into the reading room, turn your phone off and read in peace for an hour. 

What a concept!

The Last Supper is this quirky bar in the Air Raid Arcade on Cavanagh Street. On entering you're greeted by an angel. It's Darwin bonkers at its best. 

(I've been passing by here for 18 months. The owners, Monica and Bryant, are great people who also own the coffee bar next door, 1995, a place I've purchased many a bevvy. It's also a place where I fondly remember my friend Andy. This was one of his hangouts.)

I met with the colleague who told me about this. Simone's another avid reader who doesn't find the time to read. She's a regular at these sessions. There is a wonderful luxury of giving yourself an hour to read, all for yourself. No phones. No conversation. No interruptions. Just read. In the peace and quiet. For an hour. Bliss. 

Making it even nicer, the part of the bar they put the readers is gorgeous. An eclectic mix of zebra print, Botticelli prints and low chairs. 

This looks like a Melbourne bar. It's also got very good air conditioning. And excellent sweet potato chips.

We were ushered into the space at 6.25 p.m. and we had the premise explained again. No talking. No phones. Just sit back and read. As the light in the room was fairly dim, there were book lights available to use if you needed them. 

There's space for 14 people. There's normally at least ten there according to Simone. Today, there were four of us. 

Me, I settled into Kate Mildenhall's The Hummingbird Effect. I managed to read 50 pages while I was in this cool, comfortable, gorgeous and quiet space. 

It does feel rather decadent, reading in this opulent room, sipping on a drink and just reading, but it was so nice to read with others. 

The time went very quickly. 

At the end, Karen, our hostess, encouraged us to talk about what we were reading. We all expressed how lovely it was to give ourselves the time and space to read. I was asked what I was giggling about. Mildenhall's book reminds me a bit of Cloud Atlas. I was chuckling over what AI was saying about what things would be better for if it hadn't been invented. On this long list, along with the internet, nuclear weapons, bras and chainsaws was spam - email, and spam - tinned meat. (It's my sense of humour)

Of the others, Simone was reading Isaac Asimov. One girl was delving into Trent Dalton's Boy Swallows Universe and struggling with it. Another was delving into Pip Williams The Dictionary of Lost Words. All great reading choices. There was a feeling of solidarity amongst the readers. 

Simone and I had another drink after. We both expressed how reading had in many ways saved our lives. She only knows me as a technical writer, not as the blogger or the wannabee novelist. I read literary fiction. She reads fantasy. 

The thing that binds us - we both read. 

This silent book club is a wonderful thing. I've already purchased a ticket for the next time up. 

I wonder if there is anything like this in Melbourne. It might just take off. 

Today's song:

Winners are Grinners

 Most of my Darwin stories often involve my workmates doing something random.

Tonight, Elles, Kostas and I ended up at a trivia night at Sweethearts. We had no intention of going to a quiz night. We'd chosen the pub because it being Elles' birthday in the coming week, they mentioned they'd like to go to this newly opened place down on Mitchell Street, Sweethearts. The food was supposed to be good. We'll ignore the fact the place is named after a famous crocodile which sits in the museum up here. 

It was only on arrival did we find out that there was a trivia night about to happen, just as we found out it was cheap steak night (bonus). We looked at each other and said we were up for it. 

We introduced Kos to rare steak, never having had it like that as he comes from a family who likes their meat well done. 

We toasted Elles's imminent birthday. 

And we got ourselves ready for trivia. 

First up, our team's name. All good trivia teams need a name. We went with a mnemonic. Panda. Elles. Kostas. Pek Pek. We didn't tell anybody that that word is slang in Tagalog meaning 'lady parts'. As all good workmates do out with a glass of wine, we got a little bit of a giggle out of this.

And then we were off. Six rounds of ten questions. A picture round. A music round. 

They started off easy and worked their way up. 

What are the names of the three Hemsworth Brothers? It's not Major, Minor and Lesser. It's Chris, Liam and Luke. (I still think Major, Minor and Lesser suits them). 

In what year did Prince Charles and Princess Diana get married? 1991. Elles and Kos are Millennials. I'm Generation X. I didn't tell them that I remembered that day in first year high school. They weren't even born...

The song, Mrs Robinson was in what film? The Graduate. 

What car company has the tagline "Sheer Driving Pleasure"? 

"It's not Vorsprung durch Technik. That's Audi. I'm pretty sure it's BMW."

"How do you know this crap?" asked Kos.

"Just call me Rainman. It helps that I've got a head for useless crap and a semi-photographic memory."

What's Ross Geller's child called in Friends?

"Ben." That came without blinking. 

Elles didn't register that Ross and his ex-wife, Carol the lesbian, had a child before the series. Youngsters, I say. 

There were a few bumps in the road. In which US state do you find Memphis.

Kos, being our scribe, wrote 'Tenisy."

"Can you please spell that correctly. T-E-N-N-E-S-S-E-E please. Your spelling is hurting my brain." Elles agreed. 

When it came to the penultimate question, name the Seven Dwarfs. 

"Kos, give me that paper and pen."

I duly wrote down Sleepy, Happy, Sneezy, Grumpy. Dopey, Bashful and Doc, without blinking, before handing him back the answer sheet. 

In the end, after a decent feed (Very good steak at Sweethearts) a drink or two and a hell of a lot of laughs, we came out on top. By a reasonable margin.

Between us, we won a $150 voucher for food and drink at the pub and bragging rights. 

We won the inaugural pub quiz! Whoop!

And nobody cottoned on that our team's name was a little on the blue side. 

And after, we stepped out into the close Darwin night, reveling in our win and trying to ignore the 30 degree, 80% humidity night as we ambled our way home, agreeing that we need to do this again in the near future. 

Today's song: 

Movie Review: Pulp Fiction

Movie Number 32 of 2024

The Movie: Pulp Fiction

The Cinema: The Deckchair Cinema Darwin

Stars: 5

Pulp Fiction is thirty years old. I remember seeing it at the Swiss Cottage cinema back in the day, and I was blown away by it, mostly for its incredible structure and the fact that I could tolerate a very violent film without having to run out of the auditorium. Since that first viewing, I’ve seen it on television and DVD countless times. It’s a film I can recite the lines from throughout.

It seems the audience of the Deckchair Cinema in Darwin could do this too.

Pulp Fiction gets better with age. It’s not only a classic, but also a cult classic. It has a 92% fresh rating on RottenTomatoes.com. It’s never been out of the imdb.com top 100%. It’s a freaky, funny, dreadful tale of retribution and redemption. It’s grouse.

There is something wonderful about seeing a well-loved film on the big screen. I remember seeing Branagh's version of Hamlet at the Astor in Melbourne. And Stop Making Sense on the big screen a few years ago was amazing. I'd love to see Casablanca... my list goes on. 

What makes Pulp Fiction stand out is all the fine details that are found in the two hours and thirty-four minutes of screen time. Even better, you get to watch as all of those little things you'd forgotten screen in front of you. Oh, and then there's the Deckchair Cinema experience in Darwin, sitting outside with my supermarket popcorn and a bottle of water watching as a gecko on screen climbed into John Travolta's nose. 

Of the movie, it's still wonderful. I'd forgotten how hot Bruce Willis was back then. Vincent Vega's (John Travolta) haircut is still awful.  And Samuel L. Jackson gives a gravitas to Jules, along with a sense of inevitability. And The dance scene at Jack Rabbit Slim's is one of the most joyful things you're ever going to see. (I saw a documentary about this once. Tarantino give Travolta and Thurman the direction to go have fun. They did.)

And I still want to know what's in the briefcase, and why Marcellus Wallace (Ving Rhames) has a bandaid on the back of this neck, or what else Honeybunny (Amanda Plummer) and Pumpkin (Tim Roth) gave up their life of crime, or whether the gimp as really dead. And where do you find a Mr Wolf (Harvey Keitel). So many questions. Still not answered. 

But it doesn't matter. I loved every minute of this showing, even if it was 30 degrees and 80 percent humidity and I was covering in bug spray. 

With its quirky humour and killer soundtrack, and screenplay which is like no other, Pulp Fiction doesn't age. It's still a magic, all be it extremely violent, blackly humorous and quirky (The scene in the back yard where Vince and Jules get hosed down by Tarantino...brilliant)

Best $20 I've spent in a long time. 

Today's song: 

Only in Darwin

As much as I wanted to be home this weekend, going out to brunch with my friends, hanging out with the cat, going to see Blarney and Barney on Sunday night, I rather like my weekends in Darwin. 

For one, I don't have to do any housework. Never a bad thing. 

Then there's the access to a swimming pool. I love being in the water, whether it be in the hotel swimming pool or down at the wave pool. It's nice to be able to go for a swim without having to plan it. Swimming is my main exercise when I'm up here. It's too hot to walk before about 6.30 p.m or after 8 a.m. The humidity at the moment is terrible. 

I love that I have an apartment to myself, which feels a bit like home. 

And I have my little rituals, like having a pedicure and buying a book in the independent book shop down the mall, because it feels good.

Today, on my visit down the mall, after my ritual aqua aerobics class, and a chat with some French tourists on the walk back to a favourite cafe for breakfast, then the relaxing pedicure where I read my book, I found myself chatting to the fellow in front of me as I was purchasing a book. 

We started talking about a book of postcards filled with disappointing affirmations - things like " Accept yourself for the hot mess that you are," and "There's nothing you can't do. As long as it doesn't have to be any good," and "Just be yourself. But not your real self. No one wants to see that shit."

The book had to be bought. 

He had to buy one too. He's a comedian and does a thing on affirmations - and he too thought it was a necessary buy. 

We had a chat about Darwin, and some of the good things about. The friendliness of the locals being the main thing. 

He asked why I was up here. I explained about being a corporate FIFO who wrote for a living, and how I liked finding local things to do where I could meet other people. 

He then said that he ran a bar, where they had a Silent Book Group and that might be up my alley.

"Funny that - I already have a ticket. I'll be there on Wednesday. "

It's a small world. 

And yes, I know I'm fortunate that I'll talk to anybody and everybody, but it was a bit of a cosmic kick to me to know I'm doing the right thing in going. I mean, sitting around silently reading for an hour with a group of other people I don't know, phone off, across the road from where I'm staying. Sounds like a good thing. 

I'm wondering if I could set one up in Melbourne....

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: Weekend Questions

 Another weekend in Darwin and today was delightful. I had a lovely day with my friend, who used to be my PE (Gym) teacher in high school, some 30 years ago. She's a most wonderful person and was generous enough to show me around the suburbs of Darwin, taking me out to places like Nightcliff, the Parap Markets and out to Humpty Doo and Foggs Dam, relating all sorts of history. It was a most marvellous day, and I cannot thank her enough.

Anyway, on with the questions, provided, as always, by Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?

I remember my 40th as being really good, but my 50th celebrations went on for a few weeks. A group of friends and I went to Bali for a week, then there was a big combined party with my friend Alice, who turned 50 the week before me. It was really good. 

Where is your favorite place you’ve ever visited?

There are many places in the world that I call my favourite. 

Here's a few by category. 

Favourite cities: London, Paris, Toledo in Spain (not Ohio), Wellington, New Zealand. 

Favourite historial site: Mont St Michel, France, Doi Suthep temple, Chiang Mai, Thailand, any British cathedral, particularly Ely, near Cambridge. The Taj Majal, Agra, India. 

Favourite place in nature: The Great Ocean Road, Nitmiluk (Katherine) Gorge, Cornwall in England, Most Fleurieu Peninsula beaches. 

How do you like to spend your free time? 

Doing lots of things, from getting exercise, spending time with friends, reading, going to theatre and the movies... ironing. I like to have my ironing up to date. 

What’s one of your favorite bands?

Talking Heads. I've loved Talking Heads since I was a teenager. They are still great. And relevant. And fun. Please see the Today's song for a cover of the following. It's amazing. Kudos to anybody who does a good job of covering this seminal band. 

What is the cutest animal you’ve ever seen in person?

I saw pandas at Adelaide Zoo many years ago. They were amazing. Red pandas are even better. 

I also love foxes. I see a lot of them around my suburb at night - amazing animals. I also remember coming across one in England when I was out at a friend's place in Surrey. We looked at each other for a couple of minutes. It was amazing. 

How would you describe your style?

Very casual and comfortable, maybe a little bit edgy. I wear a lot of black, but that is a Melbourne thing. I've always worn a lot of black, or plain colours and quiet prints. I love motorcycle boots and comfortable shoes. In Darwin, I live in loose cotton trousers, a cotton t-shirt and Birkenstocks. 

If your wardrobe could only be one color, what would it be? 

Navy or black. Though there is a part of me that would love that to be bright red. 

What was the first concert you ever went to?

Elton John and the Sydney Philharmonic Orchestra in Adelaide in about 1984. 

What is the best book you’ve ever read?

Don't make me choose that. Here are a few of my favourite reads:

• Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres. 
• Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides
• The Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flanagan
• The Harry Potter books by JK Rowling
• Born to Run by Christopher McDougall
• Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut
• The Cornish Trilogy by Robertson Davies
• The Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert
• Still Life by Sarah Winman

What’s your favorite movie of all time? 

Again, don't ask me to name one. Here's a few of my favourite movies: 

• The Colours: Blue
• Atonement
• Calvary
• The Shawshank Redemption (It was on television tonight)
• Witness and The Truman Show
• The Princess Bride
• Henry V (Kenneth Branagh's version)
• The Wedding Singer
• Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
• Many English films that nobody has heard of, but I love. 

What’s the stupidest movie or TV show you’ve ever seen?

Probably Love Island. It's awful. 

If you could only have one food for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

Ice cream. But that isn't going to happen. 

What are your biggest pet peeves?

• Rude people
• People who butcher the English language when they should know better
• People who don't use their indicators while driving. 

Are you more into brains or looks?

Definitely into brains. Brains are sexy. Anybody with a good brain is automatically attractive, and as long as they are clean, the looks will get better. 

Do you celebrate any holidays? What’s your favorite?

Australia is a secular nation, so we don't have the Holiday season per se. I don't celebrate any holidays, but do rock up to family functions when required. 

Today's Song:

Another thing to all to the list

 This getting older thing is crap. 

So is losing your gall bladder. 

Actually, losing your gall bladder, when it's full of stones and causing you pain is good, and necessary, but it does play with your eating habits. 

Then once you have your gall bladder removed you have to find a new normal. You soon find out what you can and can't eat. Normally, after gall bladder removal, you start off with bland, good food, and stay away from saturated fats, and after a few months, you find a new normal. Some things will come back. Some things won't. 

I've been lucky so far. Since this sack of marbles that was sitting under my liver removed I've had to change very little. 

Things that were on my food no-no list before the surgery have pretty much stayed on the stay away list. Duck is the main offender. Duck breast is okay, but roast duck has me sitting on the loo for most of the night after eating it. Coconut cream and milk are another thing I can't look in the eye. Coconut on lamingtons, shaved coconut is fine, but high in saturated fat cream and milk and yoghurt, need to stay in the supermarket aisles. 

Oh, and red wine and I don't get on. I'm not sure if that's a gall bladder thing or something in the wine. 

Anyway, after the last few visits to Darwin, I've found something else that's now on the don't eat list. 

Fried Flat Rice Noodles. Char Kway Teow. Ha Fan. You name it, if it's got flat rice noodles and is flash fried in a wok with some bits and pieces, I'll be sitting on the loo in about two hours. 

I'm bummed. It's so unfair. Wok tossed flat rice noodles are one of my favourite things. 

On Wednesday, out at the depot, we ordered in lunch. This is what I ordered as flat rice noodles are gluten and dairy free. On tasting said noodles, something was a bit off. After having a reaction the last time I was in Darwin, where I spent and evening doing an imitation of the Exorcist from both ends, but I thought it was gastro. On Wednesday, lunch was bought from a dodgy Chinese place in a Northern suburb. This time, I started the noodles, but after a few bites thought it tasted a bit funny. The oil might have been off. I ate the chicken and tossed the rest. 

By 3 pm I was running to the loo every half hour on the half hour. Thankfully I felt okay - my body was just rejecting something it didn't like. A bit of Imodium and all was well. 

(My colleague had the same thing as me but ate the lot. I've since found out that they spent Wednesday night with fluid coming out both ends). 

Today, I met up with a friend and we went for lunch at a lovely Thai place in Fannie Bay. The food is exceptional. I've eaten there on numerous occasions. 

I had the chicken and flat rice noodles with basil and chilli. 

It was marvellous. Tasty. Fresh. Maybe a little too much chilli. It was great. 

And I was sitting on the loo at 3 pm with it coming out of me. Again, once it was out, all was well, and I feel fine. 

But I'm bummed. They really were one of my favourite things to eat as a treat meal. 

Today's song: 

What a good idea

Endeavouring to keep a semblance of a life while in Darwin, I look for things to do when I'm not working. There's the Deckchair Cinema, which only runs in the dry - but Pulp Fiction is playing on Sunday Night - I haven't seen that on the big screen since it came out in the mid-nineties. 

Of course, I like to go to aqua aerobics with the oldies on a Sunday morning. That's good fun - and exercise, and I treat myself to breakfast at a favourite cafe afterwards. 

And there's the gentle socialising with colleagues that has to happen, whether it be with a traveler drink in the hotel pool or going out for dinner. 

Yet I've been wondering if there are other activities, where you can meet people who you don't work with in a town you don't life in.

Speaking to a colleague at the depot today, I may have found one of these types of things. 

A Silent Book Club. 

A silent book club?

Eh?

From what my colleague tells me, you pay your $10, then turn up at an upmarket pizza bar, which is conveniently a stone's throw away from our hotel. Then you sit in personable company for an hour and read in peace. The rules are no talking and phones on silent. You go there to read your book for an hour. There is time for talking after. Oh, and part of the $10 ticket price is a glass of wine, beer or soft drink. 

I think this sounds like a great thing to do. My colleague will be going, so we can catch up there, especially as they're now working from home most of the time. And I'll just have to work out what to take with me, whether it be Kate Mildenhall's The Hummingbird Effect, or the Anne LaMott's book on writing, Bird by Bird (which is on the Kindle) or something else. 

Reading and writing is such an insular hobby. 

This feels like a good thing to do. 

Today's song:

Nightswimming

 There is no better way to wash off the day. 

Even better when you only need to go down four floors. 

I've taken to going for a swim 8.30 at night, after I've had time for dinner, and a walk, if it's not too hot. 

The other good thing about swimming in the evening - no kids. Or people. 

And with the nearly full moon poking out from between the buildings, and some live music filtering Aussie classics as I did my lazy breast stroke up and down the empty pool, I think I've found my personal versions of bliss. 

A colleague joined me after I'd nearly finished my required 20 laps. 

We left when we were kicked out by one of the staff, being flanked by security. 

Like we would be trouble...

It's my favourite part of the day. 

Happiness is an empty, child free swimming pool. 

Today's song: 

Front of mind

 I did it. I managed to finish this month's book group book with about three minutes to spare. Part of me wishes I had timed things better so I could have savoured the book. After a good book group, I went for a swim, meeting up with my one up for a daily debrief. The pool is good after 8 pm. No kids.

So, what have I been thinking about today? 

1. Next month I must start the book group book earlier. 

2. Living next door to work is really cool - there is something great about going next door and making yourself lunch. 

3. Darwin sunsets are cool. 

4. George Negus died. I still wanted to call him George Fungus, but I can't for the life of me remember who tagged this. Was it Paul Hogan? I do remember him on Sixty Minutes, when it had some journalistic virtues - I'm Ray Martin. I'm Ian Leslie. And I'm George Negus. It's still in the brain along with the Wide World of Sport theme. And I wonder why I find Channel Nine strangely soothing (even if I only watch them to see what the bogans are thinking.)

5. I need to be in the foyer at 8 am to meet one of the BAs so I can head out to the depot. 

6. I need to get to Coles to get a jar of peppers. Roasted peppers, the one you get from the aisle with the olives and sun-dried tomatoes, are great on top of rice cakes spread with hummus. I bought the rice cakes and hummus yesterday. The peppers didn't make my shopping list. Oops. 

7. Night swimming with goggles that have tinted lenses is fraught with dangers. I bumped into a few walls - it probably doesn't help that the pool is round. 

8. The antibiotics I'm taking for this irritating cellulitis are giving me a bad taste in my mouth. I'm inhaling sugar-free mints to counteract this. 

9. We have to Uber out to the depot tomorrow. I'm wondering how I'm going to find lunch. 

10. Oh and it's housekeeping day here tomorrow. Does this mean I have to make my bed and run the dishwasher and put my vibrator away or out of sight? What is the etiquette here?

That will do. 

Bedtime. 

Today's song:

The Deadline.

 It is 11 pm in Darwin. 12.30 am AEDST. 

I have book group tomorrow night, online at 6.30 pm Darwin time, 8 pm AEDST. 

At present, I have read 60% of the book. 

It's not a very hard read, but it does require some concentration. 

I was hoping to get a lot more of it read on the plane on the way up, but the 6'5" FIFO, with extra broad shoulders, and who smelled like stale KFC, who kept elbowing me in the ribs on the way did not help matters. He couldn't help being stuck in the middle seat on the full flight, but still, it's not conducive for reading a book. The new noise cancelling earphones went in. Nup. Didn't help.Too uncomfortable to read. 

The other thing was tonight I was looking forward to coming home (the apartment) and reading. Mid-afternoon I got a message from a friend. Did I want to do dinner? They were up here for a conference and were at a loose end before their plane departed in the early hours. We've been trying to catch up for months. As Darwin is dead on a Monday night, I suggested joining my workmates for dinner at the Cavanagh Hotel - it wouldn't be the first time I've brought a rando along for dinner (I'm well known for collecting random people along the way). They agreed, and after walking them back to their hotel, I got back to my room for 9 pm. 

This doesn't help with the reading. 

The book is The Heaven and Earth Grocery Store by James McBride. It deserves a closer reading that I'm giving it. 

Another thing driving me to finish this is in the 15 plus years I've been the proxy manager of this book group, I've only not finished two books. The first was Half a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. I never started that - I was overseas at the time of the meeting. 

The other was Brendan Cowell's Plum, which I put down to unreadable drivel. 

I'm really good at doing my book group reading - which is maybe penance for all the reading I didn't do during my undergrad degree in the eighties. 

Anyway, if I finish this, read until half twelve, then wake up early, and read for half an hour before work, then come home at lunchtime for 45 minutes, make my lunch and read, then maybe, just maybe, I'll get this read.

It's going to be a stretch. 

Serves myself right for not starting it sooner.

Today's song:

Sunday Questions

 

I'm packing for yet another business trip - and these questions are a great way to power through them. One question, one task. At least the flight isn't until the evening so I have plenty of time.

Questions, as always come from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

1. What do you hope your last words will be?

"Wow! So that's what's coming! Nothing to be scared about at all. " 

2. What do you spend the most time thinking about?

What's next. Joys of having a neurodiverse mind, I never stop thinking about what is coming up, what needs to be done, what the schedule might look like. It never stops. 

3. What is something you can never seem to finish?

A novel. I have two that have around 60-80,000 words written - I need to get back to them.

And knitting projects. I do finish them, but they take a while. 

4. What mistake do you keep making again and again?

What, other than falling for emotionally unavailable men? Or stuffing up my lunges at the gym (but I'm getting better than that?) and occasionally not listening to my instincts - which I don't do often? I like to think that I learn from my mistakes. 

5. What’s the best thing you got from your parents?

From my mum - skinny ankles, and ability to rhyme and my work ethic.

From my father, the ability to talk to anybody, anywhere, any time. 

6. What’s the best and worst thing about getting older?

Best thing about getting older - not sweating it on the small stuff. Saying no comes a lot easier. 

Worst thing about getting older - the aches and pains and the groaning noise you make when you stand up. 

7. What do you wish your brain was better at doing?

Focussing. My brain works in a way which I'm thinking about five things at the same time. Joys of neurodiversity. But it would be lovely to be able to concentrate on one thing at a time. 

As an example, currently, while writing this I'm also thinking about: 

• How am I going to get the book group book read by Tuesday night?
• When do I really have to leave for the airport?
• Is my washing dry yet? 
• What meetings to I have to plan for the week? 
• What book should I take with me for after the book group book?
• Is the cat happy? (He is)
• To I have my protein shaker in my bag?
• Have I got everything? 

It goes on and on

8. If your childhood had a smell, what would it be?

A cedar pine hedge. And a whiff of sunscreen on a sunny beach. Beachy smells. 

9. What have you created that you are most proud of?

Strangely, it's this blog. It's proof that I write daily. 

10. What were some of the turning points in your life?

Sorry, that's a too deep a question before a four-hour flight to a faraway city for a work trip. 

11. What song or artist do you like but rarely admit to liking?

Phil Collins. Oh, and Metallica. 

12. What small impact from a stranger made a big impact on you?

This is a bit strange, but having French people tell me that I speak very good French for an Australian did bucket loads for my confidence. 

13. As you get older, what are you becoming more and more afraid of?

Getting sick and not being able to support myself. I hate relying on others. 

14. What are some of the events in your life that made you who you are?

Moving to England when I was 23, and staying for eight years. I found myself in England. 

15. What could you do with $2 million to impact the most amount of people?

I would probably give it to a worth charity - I'm thinking Free Hollows or the Catherine Hamlin Fistula organisations

Today's song:

Theatre Review: Six

The Production: Six (the Musical)

The Theatre: The Comedy Theatre, Exhibition Street

Until 20 October. 

Stars: 4

I'm not into musicals, but some are better than others. Give me a musical with an edge, like Chicago or Rocky Horror and I'm happy. I'm also good with the less well-known musicals, like Fun Home, or The Heartbreak Choir, and I'm happy. Anything by Andrew Lloyd Webber, or the remaking of a Disney Classic and I'll run for the hills. 

 When I first was told about Six, I said you wouldn't get me there if you paid me, but a friend got me at a weak moment a few months ago. I said yes, the rather expensive ticket was purchased, and we went today. 

And I was pleasantly surprised. I don't need to go see it again, but I found Six to be an enjoyable experience. Even better, it's over quickly (75 minutes), so I cannot complain at all.  But if you think about it, each wife gets her own song, and there's a couple of ensemble songs - you can't drag it out for two long.  

The show is about female empowerment and agency. Something Henry VIII's wives did not have. So, the cast have taken on Catherine of Aragon (Divorced), Anne Boleyn (Beheaded), Jane Seymour (Died), Anne of Cleves (Divorced), Katherine Howard (Beheaded) and Katherine Parr (Survived) and made them their own, giving a new focus to their stories. 

Not only do I have a dislike for musicals. I have an absolute love of anything Tudor. Henry VIII, his wives and the general goings on at the court of the time is fascinating. It was good to see that within the cracks and the songs, most of the history was well respected. The show got marks for this. 

The singing, the music and the band were excellent as well. There were no standout performances - the whole cast was good. 

And this is an all-female production. The band were very talented women. We were sitting next to the sound booth - it was tended to by a woman, not your normal sound engineer with a ponytail, a hoodie and neck tattoos. (And probably named Dave.)

The full auditorium lapped up the show. 

For this musical-sceptic audience member, I was pleasantly surprised. What impressed me most was that Toby Marlow and Lucy Moss have interpreted this well-known piece of history and made it fun. 

But I don't need to see it again. 

Today's song:

Theatre Review: Cost of Living

 The Play: Cost of Living by Martyna Majok

The Company: Melbourne Theatre Company

The Theatre: The Southbank Theatre

Until: 19 October

Stars: 4 (with reservations)

Walking out of tonight's performance of Cost of Living, Jay made the comment, "Well, the MTC has ticked all of their diversity boxes for the year." 

And it did. 

In mostly a good way. There was the indigenous actor (Aaron Pedersen), an Asian actor (Mabel Li), a queer actor (Rachel Edmonds) and two actors in wheelchairs (Oli Pizzey Stratford and Edmonds). But in a play about carers and those receiving care, you would expect this diversity. 

I went into this play without reading reviews or bugging friends about relating their experience with the play. Jonella and Norty went early in the season but remained tight-lipped. 

I'm glad I went in blind. 

According to the MTC website the synopsis of the play is this:

"When Ani (Rachel Edmonds) is reunited with her estranged husband Eddie (Aaron Pederson) after a devastating accident, their relationship shifts from divorcing to caregiving. John (Oli Pizzey Stratford) is an affluent PhD candidate with cerebral palsy and has no qualms about making his support worker – fellow graduate student and bartender-by-night Jess (Mabel Li) – uncomfortable about her reasons for choosing the job."

The two hours of this play (with no interval) I found patchy to begin with, to the point that I microslept through the first 20 minutes, missing critical bits which would have the play easier to follow.

But then it took off, and took off in a major way, leading to a crescendo which you don't see coming. 

What I did like about the middle, and end sections of the play was the unexpected nature of it all. The bathroom scenes in the middle of the play had the audience spellbound. In particular, Li and Pizzey Stratford's performances are incredibly brave, and visceral. 

But - I wasn't too keen on a couple of aspects. Firstly, this was performed using New York accents. Pedersen's, in particular, was distracting. And I do get why they didn't move the location of the play from New York to somewhere in Australia, as with a play about disability, and the disparities in care and what money can provide, if this was set here this would end up being a two-hour diatribe about the NDIS. 

With the exception of the first third of the play, Anthea Williams' direction is sound. The relationships develop naturally, then come to their difficult conclusions. 

In all, I did enjoy this play. I can see the criticisms that some may have about this being disability porn or it's glorification of the down-trodden carer. 

It's a lot more than this. 

Today's song:

And I think my job is bad...

My job is not bad. Not by a long shot. I am not complaining about my job (although it does have it's moments) I really don't have much to whine about. 

Today, I met somebody who has a right to complain. 

Lunchtime saw me going to the doctor. A patch of cellulitis, which they treated with antibiotics last week, has diminished, but has not gone away. So, it was back to the doctors to see what else can be done for this slightly uncomfortable patch of inflamed skin on my leg. As I explained, I really didn't want to take an existing condition to Darwin to have it fester. As I said to the doctor, the last thing I need is for my leg to turn back and have it drop off. 

I left the doctor's office with a prescription for some stronger antibiotics and an order to have and ultrasound and Xray on my leg to make sure nothing nefarious is going on. This is definitely a due diligence action. From a Millennial doctor who's also a bloke, it felt good to be cared for and listened to. 

The imaging place is around the corner and up the road from the surgery. 

On going in, I was told I could have the Xray today, but the ultrasound would have to wait until the weekend. It would be a 15-minute wait. 

I don't think I've had an Xray in 30 years. The last time that I can remember it was in 1993. I was in Dublin, with a terrible chest infection. I was staying in a youth hostel. I knew I needed antibiotics. The doctor was concerned enough that they thought I might have pneumonia, and demanded I have a chest Xray. All I can remember was being sprawled up against the film like a bug on a wall and it took about ten minutes for me to stop coughing. 

This time, it was just the lower leg that needed its picture taken. 

I was asked to take off my jeans. 

No worries there. 

I'd showered in the hours before. No drama there. My underwear was clean.

The Xray technician put me in the positions they required. 

"I'm glad I'm recently showered. It's my dread fear going to a doctor when you're not fresh."

"You're good," they told me, "I can't smell your feet. You can come back any time."

As I said, I think my job is bad at time. At least I don't have to deal with the great unwashed...

Cheesy feet. Eww. 

Today's song: 

Nobody Wants This

 I'm obsessed.

Nobody Wants This on Netflix is the bomb. 

As romantic comedies go it's funny, relatable, with some very cool characters and daft situations, but mainly it's the story of two people who never should have met. Joanne (Kristin Bell), an atheist, chaotic podcast producer who has very little filter. And Noah (Adam Brody), a sold, dependable, likeable rabbi who oozes progressive thoughts with the laid-back California lifestyle. What could go right? Or wrong? Everything. 

Also, it's like where do you find a Noah?

I mean, he's cute, a little scruffy, emotionally available, not afraid of his emotions and knows how to say no. And state exactly what he wants. 

He's also okay with the different and a bit crazy. 

And he knows how to kiss - and the internet has blown up over this. 

Anyway, I'm not writing tonight because I'm watching Nobody Wants This.

The show has also brought back some memories of what it was like to be the 'shiksa'. You'll have to watch to find out. I never got to the stage of meeting the parents. 

But the "Are you even a bit Jewish?" question was asked once. 

Ah, I'm going back to the couch and the telly. 

Today's song: 

I'm a Terrible Mother

 I've been home with a poorly cat all day. 

Yes. Lucifer is a bit off colour. 

It started this morning with the runny poos. He's not normally a runny poo sort of cat. This continued over the morning. Little visits to the little box yielded more runny poo. Complete with wiping his bum on the mat outside the kitchen. It's his thing. The mat is washable. 

How does anybody do this with children? You don't even have a pooper scooper to use with children?

Things came to a head around lunchtime when he had a very large puke on the other rug. 

Why can't cats puke on the floorboards? It always has to be on the rug. 

Both rugs have been put through the wash. 

And my normal, happy cat, who sleeps all day, was up and about, not asking for treat, and occasionally running to the litter box. 

He just wasn't himself today. 

And in-between scooping poop and cleaning up sick, my little fella was sitting on the bed, alert, but out of sorts. Normally he sleeps on his throne in the spare room for most of the day. His nose is cool and wet, like it always is. 

I don't think he's very sick. More the cat equivalent of a 24 hour bug. If it continues, I'll take him to the vet, but I think that's more of a punishment to go there. 

And the moment he's sitting next to me, gently clawing at my leg, looking for treats. He's made a good dent into his dinner. His behaviour is going back to what it normally is. 

Still, I have no idea how I would cope with sick children. And they seem to get ill all the time. 

An off colour cat is all I can deal with - and that's been hard enough. 

Today's song: 

My Favourite Dinosaur

https://pandorabehr.substack.com/p/my-favourite-dinosaur Today's song:

Sunday Stealing: Pre-Daylight Savings questions

 It's a big weekend and I'm fitting in as much culture while I'm in Melbourne before returning to Darwin next weekend. So, it might be short answers this week. 

Also, Daylight Savings start this weekend. Booo. More adjusting of the body clocks.

Questions, as always, come from Bev at Sunday Stealing. 

1. What gets you fired up?

A few things. Politics. Women's rights. Abortion rights. Right wing politics. I can normally contain myself, but don't get me going on a bad day. You might not survive. 

2. What makes a good life?

Friends, family, food, decent gin, pets, down time. Travel. Cat videos definitely help too. 

3. What risks are worth taking?

According to the magnet on my fridge, life is sweetened by risk. I reckon any considered and calculated risk is worth taking. What can go wrong. (Okay sure, so much for sky diving... but it's low risk if you put the work in - then if anything goes wrong, it's bad luck)

4. Who inspires you to be better?

I'm not sure anybody inspires me to be better. It's something I want from within. 

5. What do you have doubts about?

Everything, at some stage. 

6. What fact are you resigned to?

Most people are stupid. It's unfortunate, but it's true. (I got some unsettling news tonight. I'm sitting here saying, "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." on repeat. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not my circus and they're not my monkeys. 

7. What book impacted you the most?

That would be "Who Moved My Cheese?" by Dr Spencer Johnson. After a diabolical day at work hearing about the suicide of a colleague, I bought a copy and sat in Fitzroy Gardens and read it. It's only a small book so it didn't take long. There are messages written on the wall in this book. It challenged me to ask what would I do if I wasn't scared. The following day, I quit my job and moved to Greece. Things didn't work out in Greece, but it did move my life forward a lot. And if I'm feeling stuck, I ask myself that same question. 

8. What irrational fear do you have?

Here's a few of them: 

• Huntsman spiders (If you don't live in Australia, google them)
• Intimacy
• Leaving books on page 13
• Open water
• When in Darwin, swimming in the sea because of the crocodiles.
• Being photographed. 

9. What is the hardest lesson you’ve learned?

Once your trust is broken, it is very foolish to let that person back in your life in any major way. I'll leave it at that. 

10. What is something you’re self-conscious about?

My body. As much as I lovely my body and what it can do, I don't like its size and wish it was smaller. I'm working on it. I refuse to have it photographed. 

11. What are one or two of your favorite smells?

• Dogs and cat's paws first thing in the morning. 
• Freshly baked bread
• The street on a hot day after it's rained (petrichor)
• Freshly brewed coffee
• Clean bloke

12. Have you given to charities?

Yes. I give monthly to the Fred Hollows Foundation and Canteen. It's good to give back and they're charities that do great work.  

13. What is the best compliment you have received?

I don't get many compliments - but I remember one where I was told I was like a steam train. When I got a bit grumpy and asked why, I was told that I'm beautiful in an old-fashioned way and should be treasured. I have always loved steam trains. 

14. What chance encounter changed your life forever?

I can't think of one. I've never had a partner so meeting them was never a thing. That's the answer most people will probably give. 

15. What was the most memorable gift you’ve received?

I was once gifted a cock ring. I have no idea why. Sex toys are not something I'd ever give as a serious present and to this day, I have no idea what was in the giver's head when they bought this for me. It was in the bin pretty quickly. 

Today's song:

Film Review: Bonnard: Pierre et Marthe

 Movie Number 31 of 2024

The Movie: Bonnard: Pierre et Marthe

The Cinema: Palace Cinemas, The Kino

Stars: 4.5

Yes. Another French film. 

And this one, despite being a little slow, is an absolute cracker. 

Marthe de Méligny (Cecile de France) and the famous French painter Pierre Bonnard's (Vincent Macaigne) complex relationship is explored in the biographical drama Bonnard, Pierre & Marthe. The story follows the creative and romantic relationship between the two over the course of fifty years, illuminating how Bonnard used Marthe as a model for many of his most lauded pieces. Set against the background of early 20th-century France, the story develops through pivotal points in their lives, capturing the spirit of their love.

The standout performances of the film are definitely Cécile de France's Marthe and Vincent Macaigne's Bonnard. Bonnard is showed by Macaigne as a kind soul torn between his creative aspirations and the intricacies of his relationship with Marthe; Macaigne gives him a relaxed, warm charm. However, the dynamic between Marthe and De France is riveting because De France personifies Marthe's ferocious and even aggressive personality. In scenes where Bonnard's work shows how Marthe's influence on him is apparent, demonstrating how his creativity is driven by their personal struggles, their chemistry is palpable.

Within this two hours we get to see Bonnard's art and process. It was fascinating to watch as the paintings were developed as life went on around them. You also meet some of the luminaries of the time, including Claude Monet. 

But this is a film which keeps its focus on the couple and their ever-changing relationship, even when Pierre leave to marry his mistress, Renee (Stacy Martin), in Rome. 

Cinematographer Guillaume Schiffman does a masterful job capturing the intimate moments and undulating landscapes that make up Bonnard's universe. Its colour scheme is eye-catching and reminiscent of Bonnard's vivid paintings. Composer Michael Galasso's score adds a beautiful, wistful undercurrent to the images, heightening the narrative's emotional impact.

This is a gorgeous film. It's coming to the end of its run and is playing in the arthouse cinemas. It's definitely worth a look. 

Today's song: 

Gig Review: The Whitlams

The Gig: The Whitlams

The Location: The Corner Hotel Richmond

Until: Sunday, 6 October.

Stars: 4.5

I remember the conversation well.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO THE CORNER? You live ten minutes away. 15 if you walk.”

“More like 20 minutes if I walk. I’m up the dodgy Vietnamese end of Richmond, remember.”

“Still, woman, how can that be?” After which, he rattled off the number of his favourite Vietnamese restaurant on Victoria Street and left me to stew.

 Andy had a point. How could I not have attended The Corner Hotel in Richmond to see a gig? In many ways, it was my own preferences and prejudices. Not wanting to go alone. Or missing out on tickets (Hozier was one of those tickets). Or forgetting whoever was playing and not getting there in time (James Reyne). Like I pass The Corner Hotel at least twice a week. But I’d never been in.

 Andy passed away at the end of July at the age of 55.

 As a part of the grieving process, and the mentality that life is too bloody short, when I saw The Whitlams were playing there, and had added extra shows, I bought a ticket. Andy would approve. I didn’t ask anybody else if they wanted to come along. Often being the person who does the arranging and the ticket buying, I decided that going alone, especially on a school night, would be the best thing.

Yesterday, I checked the website, found out that they were coming on at 8.45 p.m. At 8.20, I Ubered over there, because, like, parking in Richmond is a no go, and the trams had replacement buses. Sod that.

And I arrived at 8.35, ready to get going.

First thing. The thrill I got from having a stamp put on my wrist was out of this world. I can’t remember the last time I had a club stamp my wrist, allowing me in and out (it used to be to have a smoke – this time, it let you go to the loo, which was in the pub part of the hotel outside of the auditorium). I remember getting these all the time as a young adult. I got the feeling of being a big kid in this marvelous space.

 Scanning the crowd, it was pretty much expected. A lot of middle-aged people out for the night, with some younger ones (like in their early thirties) who possibly got a liking for the band from their parents or elder siblings. A nice, contained crowd. The sign about the merch stand reading that crowd surfers would be turfed from the joint wasn’t needed.

 I went to the bar to get a large soda water and time. The barperson didn’t charge me. Result! And I made my way a little way into the crowd, still up the back waiting for the band to appear.

 Near the bar, the sound tech stood at his board playing with the levels. Once again, a middled-aged fellow with glasses, greying hair in a ponytail, wearing a black hoodie. What’s the bet his name is Dave.

 “You should go up the front,” said Andy into my ear.

“I’m fine where I am. Room to move. You go up front.”

“Okay.”

 On time, Tim Freedman and his band of musos arrived.

 What followed was two hours of pure entertainment. Billed as the Love this City tour, playing the 1999 album from end to end, with some songs from The Eternal Nightcap and Torch the Moon. They were great. The inclusion of the brass section (okay a tenor sax and a trumpet) brought an added depth to the songs. Tight, in synch, funny and very enjoyable. When Tim somehow accidentally forgot to play Blow Up the Pokies, there was outrage in the crowd. He was joking...

To be a Whitlams fan, you will probably have a good sense of humour, have grown up in share houses and see the world as it is.. With their music, you’ll be comfortable in the knowledge that you’re singing about love, and loss, and grief and how things used to be. Songs about recording letters on a cassette or share houses and pubs with sticky carpets (like The Corner. A colleague warned me about the carpet – it was very spongy.) The songs of an Australia from 20 years ago.

 For me, I was happy to hear a lot from The Eternal Nightcap – one of my favourite albums. I had it in my head that once I hear, You Sound Like Louis Burdett, I could go home happy. 

They played that as the last song of the two-hour set. At which time, I went home happy.

 And in the corner of my eye, I could see Andy, dancing badly, wearing a band t-shirt, pint in hand, loving every moment of the gig.

There is something very cool about going to a gig by yourself. You’re not beholden to anybody’s time keeping. You don’t have to get in a round - even more important as I’m not drinking at the moment. You can stand where you want. Drink what you want. And just take in the music. And in my case, I found a very convenient air conditioning duct to stand under near the back. It was brilliant.

This one really was for Andy. I’m so glad I went. On leaving, I felt closer to him. I know he was there in spirit.

I got online this morning and bought the t-shirt, in commemoration of not only a good night, but of a special friend.

Today's song:

The Joys of Being Me

When I wear my favourite t-shirt, I get into a bit of trouble. 

Across my chest, it reads "In my defense I was left unsupervised."

I wore this to work today, knowing that I had no big meetings. Just a doctor's appointment at lunchtime. 

The doctor doesn't care what I look like. As long as I'm clean and tidy, they're happy. 

Walking into said doctor's office, the girls at reception greeted me, then broke into peals of laughter. 

"I NEED THAT T-SHIRT!"

"It's mine," I told her. 

"And who are you here to see?"

"Umm... a doctor?... Sam? Dan? It's a he. I'm here for a little thing and he's not my normal doctor."

"Ah, Ben."

"That will be him. Middle-aged white man name."

They chuckled at this too.

"Ben's upstairs."

"Thanks. Oh, you can get the t-shirt at shein.com. Well cheap."

The medical issue is trifling, but best dealt with quickly. A patch of cellulitis which needs antibiotics. (Well, that was my diagnosis - Dr Ben said it was the same thing.)

And Dr Ben was indeed a middle-aged white guy. Lovely fellow. Took one look at my t-shirt and said that he needed one too. 

"Why didn't you see your normal doctor?"

"I thought if I waited for an appointment with her, my leg might be black or falling off. And as I'm due back in Darwin next weekend, we can't have that. Best get it fixed."

"Good point. Have you injured your leg at all?"

"Not to my knowledge. It could be an errant mozzie bite in Darwin, but I felt nothing and I slather myself in DDT before heading out. The cat likes to mug my ankles, but he normally leaves his claws in. This is just bad luck."

And after five minutes of checking my leg, agreeing I needed antibiotics and providing a prescription, we were done. 

"What do you do up in Darwin?

"Work. Swim. Probably get bitten by mozzies. Berate the lack of accessible theatre culture."

"Sounds fun."

"It has its moments."

"Anything else?"

"All good. I see my normal doctor for the ongoing stuff."

"Sounds like a plan."

And I left. Happy that my leg's not going to turn black and drop off (don't google it - cellulitis is gross if you don't catch it early), happy that my washing had dried on the line on a lovely day, happy to be out at lunchtime, and very happy that my favourite t-shirt had made people smile. 

Off to The Whitlams now. 

Today's song: 

I'm off to see The Whitlams

 "I'm off to see The Whitlams tomorrow night," I told my colleague. 

They shuddered. "The Whitlams remind me of an ex I don't want to remember."

"Sorry I brought back that memory."

"No worries. I used to like The Whitlams until the ex became and ex."

Thinking about it, The Whitlams remind me of somebody too. 

And before you ask, I'm not off to see Gough and Margaret, going on a pilgrimage to their graves or anything. Gough Whitlam, is, after all, a bit of a hero of mine. He allowed me to obtain most of my degree debt free. He was the last truly visionary Prime Minister that we've had. Aspirational. He'd turn in his grave if he saw the place now. 

Nah. I'm fulfilling a bucket list item. I've lived in Richmond for nearly 20 years, and I've never been to the Corner Hotel. The Whitlams - the 90s band, are playing for a few nights. Tomorrow night, I'm taking myself off to the Corner for a night of music. Sure, I'm going alone - but I'm expecting the crowd to look, and act, like me. Middle-aged, probably wearing a band t-shirt, sensible shoes, glasses. I can't see it being a big night. It's a school night after all. 

Yet thinking of exes, I remember sending one a CD of The Eternal Nightcap. I love that album. I still love that album. But I can't play it without thinking of somebody, knowing that he loved it too. It's got some great songs in it. It's a mix of styles and themes. It is a fantastic album.

Nobody sends albums to people anymore. We don't make mix tapes anymore. 

As a species, we are letting people down. 

Regardless, I'm off to The Corner to see The Whitlams, on my own, tomorrow night. I haven't been to a rock gig on my own before, so this is a bit new too. I normally try to go to music events with people. It will be fine. I can always take my book. 

And you never know who you might meet. 

I'll be happy if they play Blow Up the Pokies and You Sound Like Louis Burdett. 

Today's song: