... that they have a list of names for the next set of cyclones which will inevitably barrel across the top end over the country for the next couple of months.
Some common.
Some a bit more out there.
One girl's name.
One boy's name.
This is an improvement - cyclones used to be only named after women, but somebody at the Bureau of Meteorology worked out that this was sexist. If we were to get really politically correct, maybe they should throw in some androgynous or unisex names to bring things into balance - a Sam, or Chris or Bex or Shae wouldn't go astray.
Moving forward, the Bureau are moving away from whitebread Anglo names too, with Ming Zhu, Niran, Hadi and Trung on the greater list.
Of course, it's the big and destructive cyclones that get into our group consciousness. The Traceys and Yasis and Marcuses and the Chrises. Names that come to be synonymous with destruction and death.
Of course, once a name is used, it can't be used again.
But looking at this list, it's a good mix of old and new. I look at the list and think that it's good that some of the names are there, knowing a few people with some pretty toxic traits. It's rather fitting that they are there. I won''t say which one.
As a side quest, this was a fun thing to write.
Now, I will attempt to do the dishes. Let's see what side quests we can go on to avoid that!
There was a large concert at Rod Laver Arena last night - a charity event for Head and Neck Cancers celebrating the music of John Farnham.
John Farnham is a legend. I grew up with him. As a child of the seventies, we grew up with Sadie the Cleaning Lady and his amazing Beatles cover of Help.
Of course, later in the eighties, Whispering Jack came out, and it was played on repeat for years. I don't need to hear his version of You're the Voice again. Like most things that are over-played it gets under your skin. It's become a theme song, an anthem - in some ways, a proxy national anthem. Of course, anybody over the age of forty knows the words to it.
He sang the lead with the Little River Band for a while, taking over from Glenn Shorrock - and yes, I'm showing my age, but this was a huge thing when I was a teenager. And Down on the Border is a fantastic song. Farnham's voice is just magic.
And then going into the nineties and the noughties there were the interminable Last Stand concerts. He was still getting out there, but things felt a bit jaded.
And now we're here. Farnham is in poor health. He was unable to attend last night's extravaganza, but the cast of hundreds did an amazing job from what's been reported.
He is a legend. His voice has shaped a nation. Unfortunately, his failing health means we'll never hear his extraordinary voice again. Yet his music lives on.
And finds a new home and way to be performed. This First Nations version of You're the Voice is the only one I need to hear from now on. Having this sung in language makes it even more powerful. I'm sure he loves this.
On this day last year, I was in Paris. It's one of my happy places. I'm 1470 days into Duolingo, having completed the course, I still practice every day. When I can, I try to get along to a French film. It helps to keep your ear in and improve your language, and French cinema is somewhat different to your Hollywood blockbusters.
Colours of Time (or La venue d'avenir in the French) was the perfect film to see. Not too weird, or heavy, beautifully shot and great fun. Sometimes, French films miss out on the fun - thankfully this one has it in buckets.
This film, written and directed by Cedric Klapisch, who was responsible for films like The Spanish Apartment and Russian Dolls, this is a film about family, and finding your roots.
The film takes place over two timelines. In modern day France, the large family of Adele Vermillard (Suzanne Lindon) have inherited her abandoned farmhouse, which has remained unoccupied for over 70 years. The large family want to do the best for all and not just sell it to developers to build a new supermarket with ample car parking. The three strands of the family choose a representative to do the work. Seb (Abraham Wapler) a young photographer, Guy (Vincent Macaigne) a beekeeper and nature lover, Celine (Julia Piaton) a stressed-out lawyer and Abdel (Zinedine Soualem) a teacher on the verge of retirement become immersed in the story of their long-gone relative, taking time and care to sort out Adele's belongings and life.
The other strand shows Adele's life. Adele (Suzanne Lindon) has been raised by her grandmother. On her grandmother's death, she makes her way to Paris to find her mother, leaving behind her beloved, Gaspard. On the journey East, she befriends a painter, Anatole (Paul Kircher) and photographer, Lucien (Vassili Schneider) on their way to make it big in Paris.
It goes on from there, showing what was happening at the turn of the twentieth century, and the findings of the family as they work out just what their great-great-grandmother was all about, often cutting from one age to the other using exactly the same background. In the 1890s, the Eiffel tower as new, Sacre Coeur was being built,,and the city had a grimier feel to it. In the earlier scenes, we meet a lot of luminaries. I will say not more on this, but the cameos were fantastic.
I really enjoyed this. It was sweet, funny, thought-provoking, gorgeous to look at and it really delved deep into those family ties that bind.
As French films go, this is very accessible, yet it's not vapid, beautifully set, without being schmaltzy and it bent history in a very cool way.
My weekend plans have all changed. The tea blending workshop has been postponed because Jonella isn't well. A movie with Blarney has also been postponed due to unforeseen circumstances - so I find myself at a look end.
So far:
I've been to meditation.
Had breakfast with the meditation crew.
Read 50 pages of my book.
Washed the cat's blankets - it's a great day for this and it's nice to have them fresh.
Done some ironing
Psyched myself up to do some 'big' housework.
and booked myself a ticket to see a French film (Colours of Time)
and psyched myself up to do some job hunting.
In all, a fairly productive weekend.
I'll get the questions out of the way before going to this film in an hour. Questions, as always, come from Sunday Stealing.
1. Your MOST overused word or phrase:
Oh, there are a few of them.
Awesome. Horrid work, normally said in jest.
Actually. I pepper my speech with this far too often.
And the F word. Normally said under my breath. Roy Kent is my spirit animal.
2. Your BIGGEST expense:
Depends on what you call an expense. My biggest living expense is rent, followed by insurance and utilities bills. My car, which is well maintained, still costs be a heap in insurance, registration and servicing.
Fun expenses include, theatre, cinema, books and holidays - all of which are necessary to keep your spirit happy.
3. Your WORST fear:
My most irrational fear is huntsman spiders. Although they aren't poisonous the creep the hell out of me.
On a more existential level, I fear dying alone a painful death.
I have many other fears, but that is why I'm currently talking regularly to a psychologist to help sort some of these things out.
4. Your BEST memory of Summer 26:
As I'm Australian, Summer was six months ago, and I'm not a fan of Summer - too hot. But this year, my favourite memory was going to David Byrne's Who is the Sky concert with a friend, who's just as big a Talking Heads tragic as I am. This happened in January. It was awesome. Fabulous night at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl on a perfect night - not too hot, not raining, not windy - all weather patterns that can afflict Melbourne on any given day. I was, with a good friend and the best music ever. Superlative night.
Maybe cat vomit is a lucky charm? I'm not sure it feels like it at the time when you're cleaning off your duvet and putting the cover in the wash.
I woke this morning to an email. I won $600 on the Powerball last night.
Thank you, universe.
In the scheme of things, $600 isn't much. More than a week's rent. It nicely offsets the $700 car service from last week, which feels like a waste of money (although it keeps my careful, only lady driver status for when I move this car on. It can go towards a Gunnas Writer's retreat. It's two night's accommodation in London or Paris. Or four vet visits (but he only goes once a year, under duress - the cat is fine. Cat's throw up sometimes.)
Regardless, it was nice to wake up to. I’m also grateful that something nice happened to me.
I've just had a session with the psychologist, so I'm processing.
I would go process in bed, but the cat decided to puke on my duvet. It's all been cleaned up, the duvet cover has been washed and is now drying on the airer, the quilt sponged clean - but the bed needs to be remade. (Lucifer is on his throne looking very pleased with himself - I think this was punishment for me going into work three days in a row.)
Anyway, I need some processing time. I also want to make my bed and avoid going to get some ice cream.
So that's it for the night.
Process. Make the bed. Do the dishes. Don't eat ice cream (even if you are allowed to eat ice cream after seeing the shrink).
I got my marching orders today. The last day at my current job will be 30 September.
It's okay. I was half-expecting this. Two weeks' notice - it's in the contract. And despite there being a good 3-6 months' work I could be doing on my job, but there isn't the funding.
It's the life of a contractor.
On the good side of things:
There is work out there.
I started looking a few weeks ago.
The mood around my current job isn't great (a long story involving a departmental restructure, which I won't bore you with the details.)
I'm used to moving around and a change is as good as a holiday.
I'm good at what I do.
And something will come up soon.
And maybe a few weeks off would do me good at the moment.
And I know what I have to do.
Sure, I'm eternally optimistic that things will turn out well. I had a reasonable interview with an energy company the other week - they're still going through the sorting process.
In the meantime, I will do what I do to go find another job. These things include:
Only searching the job boards once a day for no more than an hour a day (including putting in applications.)
Calling up contacts for coffee.
Burning green candles (brings in abundance)
Reciting my mantra ("I'm gonna get a job and its going to be great" sung to the tune off John Brown's Baby.)
Refining my wants list
Ensuring I do an hour of exercise a day...
... and generally remaining a happy chappy, because what you put out to the universe comes back, and an attitude of gratitude gets you further than pretty much anything.
And once my laptop and building pass have been returned, I'll turn myself back into a novel writer in the time I'm not doing my hour a day of job hunting because it's good to use the time off productively.
It's okay. I'm adjusting to the news. Everything will work out well. I'm gonna get a job and it's going to be great.
