It's Saturday afternoon and I'm procrastinating about going to the gym. At least I am in my gym clothes.
A couple of things have been marked off my list of things to do. I finished my book. I've started cleaning out a kitchen cupboard. I've done a lot of crochet while watching the UK version of Celebrity Traitors, the latter being great fun, the former meaning I've nearly finished a double bed sized blanket. I've been to meditation, started a new book... and I'm in my gym gear.
I am going to go to the gym after this.
Anyway, the questions have been brought to us by Sunday Stealing. These won't take me long, then I'm off to the gym.
1. Do you have a business card? If yes, what's your job title?
I've never had a business card. I'm between jobs at the moment, but my job title is normally Instructional Designer or Technical Writer. I have an interview on Wednesday. Wish me luck. Still won't be getting a business card. I think that only real estate agents and car salesmen, and the odd banker have them now.
2. What day of the week were you born?
Monday. I checked this on google - still Monday. Mum wasn't lying.
3. What vegetable do you refuse to eat?
I'm a slave to my whims. I'll eat most vegetables, but whether I feel like eating them or not is another matter. I've got to be in the mood for whole chick peas (garbanzo beans to the Americans). I'm not that fond of green beans, normally because they're overcooked too easily. Oh, and plain, steamed cauliflower - no thanks. If it's been roasted or covered in cheese sauce, then I'll take it.
4. How many times have you stayed overnight in the hospital?
Twice as a kid, and twice as an adult.
As a kid, I had my legs sorted, and on both occasions, I was in for a few days. As an adult, I was in overnight when they took out my gall bladder, then another time when I was in for 'girlie maintenance' and as I'd had a general anesthetic and was going home to an empty house, they insisted I stay in overnight. I walked the 20 minutes home the next morning.
5. Do you have more piercings or tattoos?
I've only got my ears pierced, and there is on very small tattoo on my hip. Nobody sees it.
6. Do you like to shop?
Sort of. I've just realised, thanks to my psychologist, that I have been using shopping as a dopamine hit for most of my life. I'm trying not to shop - or at last I'm trying to buy when I window shop. It's hard, but I'm getting better at not spending money, especially as I've not got much coming in at the moment. Hopefully the interview on Wednesday will sort that out.
7. How much cash is in your wallet right now?
I have more than I have had in a long time. A bit more that $100 in notes and around $20 in change. Most of that is because I took in the collection at lodge, but all the banking is done electronically, so I take in the cash and pay them from my account. Normally I have no more that $20 in cash on me.
8. Let's play MASH: Do you live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house?
I live in an apartment.
9. Where are you in the family birth order (oldest, middle child, youngest, or only child)?
Oldest of two. Or oldest of three if you take my step-sister into account.
10. When you were 5 years old, what did you call your parents?
Mummy and Daddy - like most five-year-old Australians at the time. This morphed into Mum and Dad a year or so after. I think the change was starting around that time.
This is a fantastic film. I am going to say this because it fits some of my criteria. It's a story about the Second World War - the D-Day landings to be precise. It has Andrew Scott AND Brendan Fraser in it - I adore both actors.
And I'm a big weather nerd.
This film is lovingly put together, based on the play by the same name written by David Haig, who is best known as Bernard from Four Weddings and a Funeral. Haig is also a very good playwright who had a large hand in transferring this to the screen.
The movie's premise is simple. In the tense 72 hours before D-Day, General Dwight D. Eisenhower (Brendan Fraser) and Captain James Stagg (Andrew Scott) face an impossible choice--launch the most dangerous seaborne invasion in history or risk losing the war altogether. It all depends on the weather, which is why Stagg is brought in. He's a reluctant addition to the meteorological team, the U. K's best weather boffin he's not welcome among the American weather team. Stagg is up on all the latest technologies for 1944. At the British Headquarters, there's the push and shove of the American Meteorologist Irving Krick (Chris Messina), a more traditional (read delusional) forecaster, but a favourite of Eisenhower. This is a tense, edge-of-your seat movie that gets you in its grip early and doesn't let you go until the last lead is closed.
The film's tense premise starts at the opening credits, where we meet Stagg going off to headquarters leaving behind his heavily pregnant wife. Stagg is not somebody who's warm and fluffy, but he knows what he's going on, the antithesis of Krick's method of forecasting.
In the background, Ike and his chiefs of staff, including a wonderful turn by Damien Lewis as Bernard 'Monty' Montgomery who want to get their troops on the beaches. It's a very tense film, but in the best possible way. The battle scenes are well done, hard hitting, but well short of the gratuitous mark. Having been to Omaha Beach, it hit a little bit harder.
Australian Anthony Maras has done a wonderful job directing this. The cinematography is also beautifully done, making this a joy to watch.
For a film that's ostensibly about weather forecasting, this is excellent. It's an unexpected story, one about those who have to speak truth to power. A story of brains over brawn.
It's also a film that you can take a friend who loves military history along to as well. Part of me would like to see it again.
It started off with a walk with an old colleague who lives a few streets away. We went along the river having a good chat along the way. She was made redundant about six weeks ago and is only just starting to look for work. After a coffee at the end of the walk, I came home.
I had a telehealth appointment with my doctor. It was over in five minutes. A couple of repeat prescriptions and one other small matter didn't take long.
After this, a friend came over for a feet and cards session. That was pretty cook. They'd never had reflexology before. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy doing feet and cards. (Anybody reading this in Melbourne, you know where to find me - especially while I'm off.) This will pay for tomorrow's acupuncture session.)
I've managed to unclog the vacuum cleaner hose. It's amazing what you can do with a broom handle and a wire clothes hanger. Serves me right for hoovering behind the couch.
Another 50 pages of my book has been read (Pip Williams The German Ward is very good - possibly better as I've read her first two books centered around Oxford - her research is impeccable.)
Then there was Chuck the trainer, who put me through my paces. After the warm-up there was all sorts of horrors. Lat pull downs at with the last round at a personal best weight. There were standing rows. Then came the leg extensions and chest flies. Then dead bugs with a 10 kg plate and wood chops. After this came step ups and dead ball slams, which I refused because I get a bit giddy doing them - so he made me push the sled - which is much preferable to slamming down a dead weight and wanting to throw up.
I told him that I was looking forward to going back to work - which will hopefully be soon.
"As long as you're not down to doing a daily sudoku," he told me.
"I do the sudoku every day."
"But you're not that old. Grandpas do sudoku."
"And people who want to keep their mind's sharp."
"But it's like crosswords."
"I do the minute cryptic every day. I'm getting better at them. One clue at a time make them easier and Angus is a good teacher." (Angus is on Instagram and he talks you through the solution. He can be a bit of a windbag, but he is a great teacher.)
"So, you're a granny who lifts weights."
"No, I'm a big and strong and tuff-tuff-tuff woman who likes keeping my mind sharp."
"And you crochet. You're a granny."
"Hamish (another of his clients) knits. Are you going to call him a granny?"
"Fair point."
"You have to build your body and mind. Can't have either turn to slush."
Kazuo Ishiguro is one of my favourite authors - and Klara and the Sun, though very, very good, is not my favourite of his works.
Taika Waititi is a favourite director. I mean, The Hunt for the Wilderpeople, Next Goal Wins and What We Do in the Shadows are comedy gold with huge hearts. When he goes a bit deeper, like in JoJo Rabbit, he hits hard, but with pathos.
Oh, then there's the Belvedere Vodka add which lives rent free in my head. Just to remind you, this...
Klara and the Sun shows off his softer, mature, empathetic side. Mixed with Ishiguro's cerebral, thought-provoking story, you have something pretty special.
I read the book of the film years ago and remember enjoying it. The story tells of Klara, an AF - Artificial Friend, popular in the post-apocalyptic society for providing friendship to people for whatever reason they need. Klara (Jenna Ortega) is an older model of AF, known for their empathy, something which isn't always valued in society. The film starts at the bargain store where Klara resides with other grandfathering AFs and the Store Manager (Natasha Lyonne). Klara finally gets her chance to be in the window to try to find her family.
She is adopted by Josie (Mia Tharia) who sees something in Klara that she requires. Her mother Chrissy (Amy Adams) isn't thrilled with the choice, and housekeeper, Melania (Rachel House) is not pleased with her presence around the house.
A lot of the film is from Klara's point of view, where she has to 'calibrate' to new environments and well as navigate the tricky family situation, external friendships and her AF role in the world.
The film has quite a bit to say about the use of social media and AI and how this is portrayed in friendship. From memory, the book does a better job at this, while the film verges on pastiche at times.
From memory, overall, the book cuts deeper, however this is a beautifully shot and acted film.
Jenna Ortega is wonderful as the plucky Klara. She uses her acting gifts to animate her robot characteristics. Amy Adams and Mia Tharia excel as the mother and daughter in a precarious position, while Rachel House and Natasha Lyonne bring the comedic thrust.
Taika Waititi is at his best when he's wandering the grey areas of dystopia, pathos and emotion. He brings all of this here.
Filmed in New Zealand, the sets and cinematography are exquisite. The only thing I found a little jarring was the more minor character's New Zealand accents mixing in with more mainstream American ones. it wasn't a deal breaker, but it did raise an eyebrow or two.
Although I'm still more a fan of the book, because Kazou Ishiguro is a literary god, this is a solid film and well worth a look.
I'm ready to go back to work now. I'm getting tired of dodging potholes and rabbit holes.
The potholes are everywhere. Seriously, how are you supposed to maintain your car's suspension with these mother fornicating holes all over the place. They're everywhere. I know the Big Build was needed, but can't you take care of the small stuff? The potholes are awful. DO SOMETHING.
Rabbit holes are something I should have better control over - yet they are everywhere. I'm trying to keep my doomscrolling to a minimum. I'm reading the news headlines but not reading things in depth - it's all too depressing.
Social media has its joys and delusions.
Today I watched as an acquaintance went full Dave Hughes live on Facebook. I wanted to reach through the screen, give him a gentle shake, tell him to get off the psychedelics and maybe take up with that counsellor the court was suggesting. I won't contact him. I doubt if he would remember me - but he seems to have fallen down a rabbit hole of his own. I gall at the entitlement. I would unfriend him, but the downfall is spectacular, like watching David Attenborough show lemmings jumping off a cliff.
I'm doing a lot of cleaning. Today's job was the kitchen table. Amazingly, after removing everything, giving the table a wash, throwing out a heap of stuff and restacking the table, it looks empty.
The kettle which has been sitting on said table is being sent over to JB Hifi for recycling tomorrow.
My crochet projects are coming along well. Blarney will get her blanket for Christmas. I'm not sure where the other one will be going.
By the end of the month I'll have read 10 books.
I'm writing too.
In all, I've enjoyed these few weeks off. But it's becoming time to go back to work.
I've got an interview at 9.30 tomorrow morning. You never know - it may not be too long until this holiday lark is over. Wish me luck.
In Slaughterhouse Five, Kurt Vonnegut marks every death in to book with the words,"So it goes."
Words of acceptance. Words of completion. Words of futility. Words suggesting there is more to this.
I'm glad Gloria and I went to the funeral together. It was a good chance the catch up and not get too caught up in various thoughts of mortality. Gloria is good company, and besides, her car is in need of some work. The drive out to Springvale around midday wasn't too arduous, a coffee was bought at the McDonalds drive through to help us get there quicker.
Gloria also pointed out that our friend in the box at the front was the same age as her - they were born a fortnight apart. I can see why this would make you feel a little unsettled.
Me, I was in attendance for my friend, his wife. Speaking to her the days before, she intimated that he was ready to go, that he as at peace. After 18 years living with prostate cancer, the last few years were not good. In the last few months, he barely left hospital and was looking to transfer to hospice care when he died. As I said, he was ready.
So it goes.
It's still sad.
It was a celebration he would have enjoyed. We could feel him in the chapel, the coffin draped in his much-favoured tie-dyed fabric and his Aston Villa scarf, with lots of pictures of him as a younger man, with his family in Britain, and his time in Australia. I man that was hard to recognise, as I'd only known him for the last 20 years when his hair was grey. The only thing the same was the smile. He appeared to like changing his hairstyle and facial hair. He also liked wearing shorts, much to the snickers of the chapel.
His family spoke of him as a kind man, generous with is time, slow to judge, wise and spiritual. He could, and would, talk to anybody. He had a big heart and a yearning for spiritual knowledge. You can't ask for much more than that.
Talking to his wife afterwards, we spoke of the love at the funeral. He had got a say in the day, choosing the songs they played, nothing dirge-like. It was at his suggesting the coffin be covered with the tye-dyed cloth and football scarf. I'm thankful he had said something of his wishes in his final weeks. His wife had threatened him with a full Greek Orthodox service if he said nothing, being the religion he had converted to marry her all those years ago.
It did the trick. He spoke up.
After a cup of tea, some sandwiches and a sausage roll, a chat with others from the meditation group we are all a part of, Gloria and I made our way back to the city, pleased we had seen our friend off and supporting our friend in the process.
"The worst thing is the older you get, the more of these you go to," said Gloria.
"It seems to be the case."
"They captured him well."
"He was in the chapel, I could feel him," I mentioned.
"He's keeping an eye on her."
"Indeed."
A little later, I asked Gloria, "Have you though what you might like for your funeral?"
"Oh yes," she replied, "Something witchy. Lots of chanting and candles and incense to piss off the neighbours."
"And you in a wicker coffin, strewn with bright flowers and your mates dancing around you to sacred rhythms, with the bodhran beating and tambourine rattling. I can see it!"
"I might have to put that in the instructions. Death is so sanitised."
"It is. But I wonder how many times a coffin has been draped with tye-dyed material at the crematorium."
I'm writing this on Monday morning as last night, the inspiration was low.
Now, I'm procrastinating as I'm off to a funeral in a bit, and facing one's mortality is never fun. It will be a celebration for a friend - somebody I can't say I knew particularly well, but I am going to show support for his wife, who I know a lot better. My mate Gloria is coming around in about an hour and we will drive out to Springvale together. Although a sad occasion, he is now at peace after years of illness.
Anyway, I pulled a card last night from the journalling deck which reads "What do people say you can't do?"
Hmm.
This is a loaded question.
I say I can do anything.
The internet tries to tell me that I can buy anything.
I'm not sure if anybody cares what I do or don't do.
If you asked me to touch my toes without bending my knees, I can't. Give me six months of flexibility training and that will turn into a maybe.
Could I get into medical school? Probably not, but I give it a red hot go. That's more an age thing.
I'm often told that I can't say this or that. I have a very selective filter. I'm also known for not doing what I'm told to do. It's part of my make up.
Ask me what I say I won't do - an easier question to answer.
Here are ten things I won't do:
Drive drunk.
Travel to the United States of America in the current political climate.
Be cruel to animals (rubbing Lucifer's belly excepted, but that is just rage baiting)
This set of question isn't really that adult - more like having to do adult things, which are more boring and necessary than fun.
I'm just back from the blood bank, where I donated plasma. It was my 25th donation today - which means I got a pin and a block of chocolate. It's a nice thing to do on a cloudy day.
Let's get on with the questions, which have been sourced by Sunday Stealing, as always.
1. Do you have a college degree?
I have two. A Bachelor of Arts in Classics and English, which was done far too long ago. I also completed a Master of Arts in Writing around ten years ago. I have been lucky enough to use both of these degrees in my career.
2. What was the amount of your last electric bill?
My last electricity bill was $77 in credit. I recently changed suppliers, and part of the deal with the government rebate was put towards your first bill. This bill is normally around $100 a month on average. The hot water and gas bills are normally around $50 a quarter - and these have gone up recently, only because prices have gone up (hence changing suppliers).
3. Do you have life insurance?
Yes. Those sorts of insurances are attached to my superannuation .(I think the Brits call this your voluntary pension, the US calls it an IRA or 401K). This means I don't have to think about it much.
4. Do you check your cholesterol on (at least) an annual basis?
Yes. My doctor runs my bloods around once a year. Thankfully I'm stupidly healthy.
5. Have you ever attended a high school reunion?
Yes. Just one. That's enough.
6. Do you have a will or estate plan?
Yes. I have a will registered with a lawyer. My affairs are simple, thank goodness, but it's been done and it's all above board.
7. Do you remember when MTV played music videos?
Very much so. I remember when MTV started. Mind you, in Australia we had our own, home-grown music show, Countdown (like the Brits had Top of the Pops). I used to love it. It drove my mother mad.
8. Is there a bottle of wine in your refrigerator?
Yes. I have a bottle of French champagne in the fridge - Piper Heidsieck - there for a special occasion. It's been there for years - I've had nothing to celebrate. I must change that.
9. Have you been divorced?
No. Never been married either.
10. When you were 16, did you play music on vinyl, cassette, or CDs?
Way back when God was a boy, I played music on cassettes. DVDs didn't come out into mass use until the later 80s. I do miss a good mixed tape.
This film isn't going to be for everybody. It's weird. It's freaky. It's in your face. It's a rollercoaster. I loved it, despite it tanking at the box office.
Here's the thing. Tom Cruise is polarising. I'm not a fan of his mainstream stuff. However, Tom Cruise in movies like A Few Good Men, Magnolia, Jerry Maguire and Rainman - roles where he's not playing the action hero - he can be good. Even great.
Tom Cruise is great in this. No silly running. No overacting. This is a real, character-driven role on a number of levels.
The other reason people aren't going to gel with this is that the film is strange - until you get into it. It's very meta. It also has one of the coolest endings I've ever seen.
The writer/director, Alejandro G. Inarritu, who's responsible for movies like Birdman, The Revenant and Babel, is know for strange and thought-provoking films. In many ways, Digger is some of his more accessible work. A dark comedy, highly satirical, barking mad but thought provoking. The script and cinematography are fantastic.
As is the cast. Some of England and America's best and brightest pepper the cast - along with Cruise, John Goodman, Jesse Plemons, Sandra Huller, Emma Darcy, Riz Ahmed among others help make this very good. The animatronic cat also steals the show (even more so when you work out what's going on.)
Not to give anything away, imdb.com describes the plot as "The most powerful man in the world embarks on a frantic mission to prove he is humanity's savior before the disaster, he's unleashed destroys everything." To say any more would ruin it.
This isn't going to be for everybody, but for me, it's going to be another one in the top ten movies of the year - but I like well-crafted bonkers films. File it under arthouse and give it a go.
Walked 15,000 steps (including going on a walk with an old colleague along the river)
Read a few chapters of my book
Gone to the gym for a session with Chuck
Released the COVID weights to another poor sucker for Cleo to torture her with
Talked to an agency.
Revamped my CV for a role that I don't think I want and they probably aren't going to want me, but, hey, that's what AI is for and you have to let the universe know you're looking. (I'm not sure I want to work in Moorabbin...)
Talked to my shrink.
Talked to my shrink without melting down too badly - a couple of tears, but that's okay - expected.
Done some crochet.
Did a mini food shop
Started work on a proposal document for a job I interviewed for two weeks ago.
Accepted a HR call with another company for tomorrow.
Didn't whinge about the heat.
Thought about cleaning the kitchen table
Had two showers.
This being between jobs thing is busy.
Of the blessings I'm counting:
I am getting calls and emails about jobs.
I'm out of the bank I was working at - their press at the moment is awful.
I've happily cut my Ritalin down to one a day unless I really have to focus in the afternoon - just enjoy the fizzy brain in the afternoon.
Some writing has been done.
And all the exercise I'm doing is making me feel great.
Oh, and I got a big cuddle from the cat, who likes sitting under the airconditioner, looking like a very large cockroach when he's all splayed out.
I told my shrink about the job hunting, and how the RSD (Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria) doesn't really come into it because, to be frank, I really don't care. I'll know the right job when it comes. It's not far away (touch wood) and I'm enjoying this stay in Windowsill Bay. It's coming
The cat showed his displeasure at my speaking with the shrink by hopping up on the table and showing her is butt.
You gotta love them.
Me, I've done 15,000 steps today and I think I need my bed. I've got to be up early to finish off this proposal document. It should come easily once it's percolated overnight.
I prefer the back entrance, the one down La Trobe Street, opposite the gothic splendor of the RMIT buildings, just down from the Old Melbourne Gaol, where the ghosts of prisoners past reverberate down Russell Street. I prefer the back entrance as it's close to the loos, which are clean and little used. I prefer the back entrance as it's the easiest way to get into the Redmond Barry Reading Room, my preferred writing room, preferably upstairs in one of the corrals.
Unfortunately, October is exam time, and the State Library is full to the brim with students gathering points and stomach ulcers for their ATARs by hitting the books. Finding an upstairs corral was impossible. Finding a seat in the downstairs area was nearly as bad, but I'd spotted a couple of perches and was able to snag one. From last week's experience, the main reading room with the impressive dome is filled with the pheromones of stressed-out students - and I don't need to be around that. The Redmond Barry Reading Room is more my jam. It reminds me of my favourite possie in the Adelaide University's Barr Smith Library, in a corral, next to a window with Samuel Pepys for company.
The laptop fired up and plugged into the socket. The wireless mouse is turned on - spare batteries are in the pencil case with the other leads. My notebook is placed next to the laptop, the Yeti half filled with water, no longer cold, but the sign on the desk says no food or drink other than water, and the Coke Zero in my bag will have to stay there. I've always been too obedient.
I'm writing. There's 15000 words in this document. I'm second drafting. Trying to tame my words into something cohesive. I'm back with the dystopian novel. I've discovered formatting. adding, subtracting, smoothing the words, slashing paragraphs, noting ideas.
Having the time to write is a privilege and an opportunity I can't waste. I want this for myself.
Just as the job will come, and come soon, I need to take this time do to what I love.
For the next week or so, however, I might have to find another library. Maybe Richmond, or Kew. Maybe go to the city library near the market (although that is dangerous for all the food) or the one near Degraves Street. Quiet writing possies are a necessity. Between cats and Fleischman is in Trouble, there are too many distractions at home.
I'm going to get a great job and it's going to be great - but for the moment, I'm a writer of novels.
Mark me with this one. La Bola Negra should be up for a Best International Film Oscar nomination.
It's incredible. IMDB.com has it ranked as an 8.2, RottenTomatoes.com a 92%.
It's also tense, violent, queer, cerebral and dramatic. Along with this, bring in the fact that it's superbly shot, with an excellent soundscape and you've got a film you don't want to take your eyes off, even when things are getting tense.
Also, if you're aware of the concept of the black ball, the apparatus use to vote new members into associations by a blind poll (White ball for acceptance, black ball for rejection) this adds another meaning to this, along with the associations with an unfinished play by Federico Garcia Lorca - which comes part of the film.
I went into this blind, knowing that the cinematography looked amazing.
I'm so glad I went.
There are three strands to the movie which weave in together, which looks at what it is to be gay at certain points in Spanish history. You have to trust the process as you really will have no idea how the three stories are linked.
In the first we meet Sebastian (Guitarricadelafuente) in 1937, who lives in a small town, plays the trumpet for his local town band, until the Italians bomb his village and he's conscripted into the army. At an army hospital, he's ordered to stand guard over Rafael (Miguel Bernardeau) a dissident who is only being healed so he can be interrogated.
Secondly, we meet Carlos (Milo Quofes) in 1932 who is trying to join a casino cartel in his town. He is rejected for his homosexuality.
Lastly, we meet Alberto (Carlos Gonzalez) who's living in 2017 and has just been contacted by the executors of his grandfather's estate.
Oh, and Penelope Cruz and Glenn Close have cameos in this.
I'll say no more about the plot, other than this is finely woven into a glorious, cohesive story. Written by Javier Ambrossi, Javier Calvo and Alberto Conejero, and directed by the two Javiers, this is exquisite. I won't say more. Go see this - it will be better on the big screen.
Yes, it's a long film, and yes, it's got subtitles. It doesn't matter. This film is exquisite. You will learn something about a lot of things - not only Spanish history, but it provides insights into what it was, and is, to be queer in societies which from upon it.
My Duolingo streak ticked over to 1500 days today.
1500 days - somewhere around four years and one month I've been doing my daily French lesson. I've not missed a day. I haven't even used streak protection. Every day, for around ten minutes (now that I've finished the Duolingo French course) I do a bit of practice.
Why? I want to be bilingual. I'm not there yet, even though I can get around the language without butchering it too badly.
If I had my way, the universe would let me settle in France, where I could get my French to an even better state (and hop over to London regularly for a visit to the theatre.) Immersion is the only way to go.
I try and read Le Petit Prince regularly. It's the only French text I have in the house.
Thinking about it, I did five years of French at high school. I reckon I've done more French as an adult than I did in school.
I love it. I'll keep going. I'd like to find either a regular conversation group or a course that can get my language knowledge further. Maybe I should learn to sing La Marseilles, not just the 'marchant! marchant! bit. (If you've never seen Casablanca, when they sing this, knowing most of the extras were of French origin while the Germans occupied their country - superb.)
At least I have something to aim for. Maybe for my big birthday in two years, save up and go to France for a month.
I had to turn up to this one. The one on a Sunday night after a long lunch with colleagues in the afternoon. It would have been easier to stay at home, but this 21st party was a must show. My 'godchildren', Liam and Polly, turn 21 tomorrow.
I put the 'godchildren' in brackets because I'm not their godparent in the eyes of the Catholic Church. Some 20 years ago I wasn't selected to be a godparent because I'm a heathen. At the time, the Catholic Church frowned upon those of other faiths being made godparents fontside. I remember at the time having my nose a little out of joint for half an hour, then got over it. Bernie has been a part of my life since first-year university. When she and her husband Daz ask for help, I'm there. Over the years, I've been around these kid's lives. They've cat sat for me while I was up in Darwin. We got to the odd film or play together. Occasionally, I go round for Sunday Roast. They're family. I was at Bernie's 21st some nearly 40 years ago - she might have even been at mine.
My phone number was put in their first phones as a 'call this when you need an adult who isn't a parent.' Daz approved of this, stating I was a good adult to have in their phone. They were told I can talk my way out of anything - sometimes you need that.
Regardless, I turned up.
It was nice. They seemed genuinely happy to see me. Polly looked gorgeous. Liam is all excited - he starts work tomorrow after a number of years of not being able to find a job.
Of course, 21st are not what they used to be. Mind you, we Gen X had mostly moved out of home by this age - I'd been out four years by the time I turned 21. And what do you get the yoof of today for a 21st present? You used to get glasses, pewter tankards, all sorts of tatt for the house. Most kids are still living at home now, moving out a pipe dream unless you're having to move interstate for work.
Being their 'god mum', they both received a card from me with a voucher to be taken to some sort of performance. To be discussed when I'm back in work and uni exams are over. They're both quite arty, Liam is into film, and Polly likes plays.
There were also many people I hadn't seen for ages. Bernie's sister for one who lives in country South Australia. Juan, the twins actual godfather (being part Spanish, he's a proper Catholic) another. Juan and I normally find ourselves at family parties drinking under the clothesline. Juan's a renown botanical artist.
"Pand, when is that book coming out?"
Yes, Juan.
"Lunch soon."
"Yes, Juan."
Daz said the same thing.
It was a lovely night. Thankfully, the function room was well ventilated and not too noisy. I stayed for a while, for the speeches and cutting of the cakes. They're twins. They get two. As it should be.
On the way out, Polly introduced me to her boyfriend, an earnest yoof, clean cut, well-mannered. They are well-suited.
"And this is my godmother, in every way that matters," was how Polly introduced me.
It takes a village. It's a village of which I'm thrilled to be a part.
I've been out all day, and it has been wonderful. Meditation, followed by a wonderful tea blending class, then an impromptu dinner with EJ. It's been a lovely day, but it means I'm getting this off late in the day.
Kind, adventurous, intelligent. (I'm not blasting my own trumpet on the last one - I'm reasonably smart).
2) What's your favorite dish at your favorite restaurant?
EJ and I went there tonight. I love this mum and dad Vietnamese restaurant near my place. They do this dry shredded beef in spicy sauce. I take everybody there for this dish. It's incredible. The place itself is a real what we call Mum and Dad restaurant, complete with a box of tissues for serviettes, formica tables, and in the early days, the kids, who now wait on the tables, used to be up the back doing their homework.
3) Did you set goals for 2026? If yes, how are you proceeding toward them?
I'm getting somewhere with them. So far:
I've left the country for a few days
Read at least a book a week
Seen lots of theatre and films
Kept fit
And started the deep clean of the flat.
All of this is something.
4) What's something you have learned the hard way?
The harder the exercise, the more you practice, the better you get at it. The hard work is worth it.
5) If you could skip one item on today's to-do list, what would it be?
Well, today has 20 minutes left in it the I got much of the to-do list done. As for tomorrow's list, I'm always tempted to skip the gym, but this has to be done. Lots of me doesn't want to go out for lunch with the girls from my last job, but this too has to be done. I have a 21st tomorrow night - I will stick my head in the door for half an hour.
Oops, this is a bit late - but I've been going back over what I thought about this film, and in the words of Eleanor Dashwood, I greatly esteem it.
Of course, this film is always going to be compared to Emma Thompson's 1995 version of the film, and I'm honest, Thompson's movie is a better film, however, this is not to take away anything this new version brings. They are different beasts. If anything, this new version is possibly more realistic, whereas the
The news came through the other day. He's gone. It wasn't a surprise as we were told he had entered palliative care the week before after many years of illness. He is now at peace; may his name be a blessing.
I wasn't close to this man. A lovely man, I know his wife better, and for many years a lot of the discussion has been about her husband's health. It had been very difficult for both of them. She's a strong woman, but as they were together for around 40 years, I can only imagine the gut punch this must be.
We've been in contact, as you do, on Messager. Quick messages of support and encouragement, for what can you say or do when somebody loses their partner of decades but lend your ear. you don't want to be in their face, but you also wish to let them know they're loved and thought of. I always end messages with the words, "You don't need to respond."
She came back to me a few days ago with words of thanks.
"You don't mind me contacting you?"
We're not close friends, but we have known each other for well over 15 years.
"Of course not."
"What I might do, if you're agreeable, is maybe send on the odd dog video. A few seconds of raw happiness never goes astray."
"Yes, please do that."
Maybe sending dog and cat videos is my love language. I know when my niece was ill, I'd send on short videos to my sister - they're not disruptive, but there is something wonderful about seeing a muddy Golden Retriever or some other goofball doing something stupid. Dogs bring love and comfort more than anybody else.
I'm too aware of what it is to be grieving on your own. A quick message with something that may bring a momentary smile is all I can provide. As I said, it's my love language.
Now I've settled into this between jobs state, not that I've cleaned the temple from top to bottom (and got paid for it), it's time to get the Kanban board running once again.
Kanban board?
Let's say I've worked on projects for too long. I like a good Kanban board. It's a project management tool that allows you to see what you've done during the day/week/sprint.
Also, as an ADHD dopamine junkie, nothing feels better than ticking something off a list.
With a Kanban board, you move your tickets, or in my case, Miffies, from a state of not done, to doing, to done. It helps to give a perspective of what you've achieved for the day. Some Miffies might be daily tasks (like exercise or stretch or take your Metamucil) or weekly tasks (like do the floors) or one-off jobs that really need doing (like doing a proper clean under the couch or spring cleaning the spare room).
And sure, I'm using the Miffy post-its that I bought in Paris at the Dutch chain HEMA for my task cards. I think they bring something to the joys of sprint planning your life. (Dutch friends, I know that you call Miffy by her Dutch name Neintje - but that's all too hard to say.)
And yes, that is a post-it with the word 'believe' written on it. Yes, I am a Ted Lasso fan, but I really do love the principle. I do believe I will find paid employment soon, just as I believe I can finish the first draft of a novel, find a temple cleaner and make my spare room look more like a tidy room and less like a cat's boudoir.
And yes, there is a flyer for the Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition from 2017 along with the programme of shows at the Pop Up Globe from the same year. Both give me the warm fuzzies. Okay, I love Mapplethorpe's photographs, even if some are somewhat confronting. Shakespeare, in any form makes me happy. (Andybody want to join me for the Bell Shakespeares productions of As You Like It and Measure for Measure?)
Anyway, this is how I keep track of things.
I will get a job. It's going to be great. I just have to remember to enjoy the downtime.
Explain this to me. Why has pistachio taken over my life? Pistachio ice cream... pistachio coloured clothing. Love it. it's awesome.
I'm in break mode, but I've made a promise to myself that I will start writing tomorrow. Today was crochet day - and placing some clothes on Depop. I made my 10,000 steps.
The day before I had an interview. I haven't heard back from them yet - I'm hopeful, but I will understand if it's not me they want, then that's okay too. Today also had me sending out a few more applications and talking to an agency, keeping things moving. Regardless, with the other job - no news is no news and it's okay.
But I've been thinking about pistachio stuff.
And now, it's time to do some mobility exercises, do my affirmations in the light of a green candle (I'm gonna get a job and it's going to be great!) and wonder why the numbers on my blog tracking are going through the roof. Maybe I have a stalker. Maybe I'm being tracked.
I'm gonna get a job, it's going to be great, and I'll start on the Miffy board tomorrow. (
I've loved the work of Aaron Sorkin since The West Wing. Yes, his sensibilities and politics are very similar to my own, but he also gets to tell some important stories. This is another one of those, which he has both written and directed.
We were all around a few years ago when a whistleblower shouted long and hard about the abuses and lack of civil responsibility at Facebook. The Social Reckoning looks at this part of history, to great effect. Sorkin also wrote the screenplay for The Social Network, which looked at the formation and fallout of the formation of Facebook. In both of these films, Mark Zuckerberg doesn't walk away looking like a great human being.
The Social Reckoning follows Frances Haugen (Mikey Madison), a young Facebook engineer, who enlisted the help of Jeff Horwitz (Jeremy Allen White), a Wall Street Journal reporter, to blow the whistle on the social network's most guarded secrets. We also see what Zuckerberg (Jeremy Strong) and his team do with him to "make him seem more likeable." If you followed the news at the time, Haugen testified in front of Congress about Facebook's nearly inhuman way of taking profits over people. And Jeff Horwitz received a Pulitzer Prize for his reporting.
This is a wordy movie - but this is how Aaron Sorkin runs. Thankfully, the lead players put in excellent performances. Jeremy Strong as Mark Zuckerberg is particularly effective. (They asked Jesse Eisenberg to come back and play Zuckerberg but he turned the role down, wanting nothing to do with the man himself - and fair enough.) The well-crafted script would have helped these performances - mind you, Jeremy Allen White plaus a great underdog, just as Jeremy Strong is brilliant playing morally bankrupt characters. Mikey Madison, known best for her Oscar winning role in Anora is also great as the conflicted Frances.
You'll come out of this movie thinking hard about social media and its horrors. The Social Reckoning provides a number of insider perspectives. It's a film that will play well on the streaming services in the near future.
I came to the ticket for Koreaboo in an unusual way. Having booked two tickets to another show by accident, I had some sucking up to do with a friend who works in the box office, begging nicely to change the ticket to another show. Thankfully, my friend was able to assist me, and I was found a ticket to this. I'm so glad I got to see this.
The other thing that came to mind was my late niece, Lauren, who as a fan of all things Korean. She would have loved this. The music. The sensibilities. The culture shock. The culture.
Me, I loved the story.
Michelle Lim Davidson is an Australian actor who was born in Korea and adopted by Australian parents. This play is based around her experiences of meeting her birth mother in Korea and a subsequent trip back to spend some time with her. This play is taking from her experiences of being a Koreaboo - somebody who is only interested in K-Pop, Kimchi and bulgogi.
In Koreaboo, Lim Davidson plays Hannah, woman who's returned to Korea to spend time with her motherm, Umma (Heather Jeong), who works almost without a break at the family's corner store in the back blocks of Seoul. With not only a language barrier, the two women try to find a way forward, finally bonding over K-Pop, which takes the play in yet another direction.
Mostly set in the family's shop, looking like every stereotypical Asian corner store, Lim Davidson's wisdom and comic timing shone through here. The foibles of both sides were looked on lovingly, while also having a good dig and the K-Pop phenomenon. Jessica Arthurn's direction made sure that there were no lags in the show, while keeping a slightly tongue in cheek. By the end of the play, you've got a good understanding of where both women are coming from, with a good understanding of how things came to pass.
I'm so glad I got to see this. It's a bit of a sleeper hit, but its loving look at the Korean diaspora is remarkable. I'm just sorry my niece couldn't have seen this.
It's time to get the questions out of the way. I've had a good day. I managed to finish the cleaning project at the temple, which has taken me five days (spending two hours a day there, because if I did it in one shot I would have gone mad.) I saw a not so good play last night, a good one today and the washing dried on the line. Oh, and after five days, they've fixed the hot water. Life is good.
Now I just need to get myself a job (Hopefully the interview I've got on Monday goes well.)
Anyway, here are this week's questions, brought by Sunday Stealing.
1. What was the last gift you received?
It was my birthday a few weeks ago. I received a voucher for a local bookshop and a voucher for a local cinema chain. I think that's all I received this year. This is fine, I want for nothing.
2. Who did you last hang out with?
I went for dinner and the see a play with Jay last night. Jay is also my gym buddy, so I see a bit of her.
3. Do you often lose the remote?
Yes, but it's normally found under my knitting or on my messy desk.
4. When did you last check Facebook?
About five minutes ago. Checking on a friend who's in a body building competition.
5. Are there scented candles in the room you're in?
Yes. Quite a few with different scents. I'm burning my green one at the moment. Burning green candles is a witch trick for bringing in abundance.
6. Next time you leave the house, where will you be going?
That will either be early tomorrow morning to go to the gym, or a little bit later to go and meet Blarney at the cinema where we're going to see The Social Reckoning. It all depends if I can get myself out of bed in the morning.
7. Do you know anyone named Steven or Stephen or Steve or Stevie?
Ah yes, I do. Steven is the child of an English friend of mine, who was named after the Australian Cricketer, Steve Waugh. I know a couple of Stephens - one is one of a partnership, Richard and Stephen. I had a Stephen who was my boss in a recent contract. I also know a couple of Steves - I'm not sure of their spelling, but I'm sure one is a Greek Stephanos - the other, I'm not sure. Oh, and there is Steve the builder at the site across the road. Most Stevens/Stephens/Steves are middle aged engineers.
I don't know any Stevies.
8. Which do you prefer: macaroni salad or potato salad?
Look, I like both. A good home-made potato salad is gold - but am very fold of the pasta salad that you get at the supermarkets over here. It's glorious and addictive.
9. Do you have an ice maker in your refrigerator door?
No. Too expensive, needs to be plumbed in - and I rent. My fridge is far more utilitarian.
10. When you woke up this morning, did you get up straightaway or lounge a bit?
I'm a ditherer in the morning, especially now as I'm 'between jobs'. But I was up and about around 9 this morning after some doom scrolling.
I've had a full subscription with the MTC for many years. Every year, of the ten plays, there will be a couple which you adore. They stay with you. They're fantastic. Then there will be four or five which you enjoy - not to the same extent as the great ones, but they're still good. Then there's one or two you will have to dig deep to find things you like. And one will have you wanting to leave at the interval.
Eliza is the play I wish had an interval. It's an hour and a half that I'm never going to get back.
This just didn't do it for me. I get what they're trying to do, but nah. Sorry, didn't work for me. A play about AI. Yeah, it's a bit fraught to begin with. They say it's a psychological thriller. Me, I was bored. It was a talkfest with characters you couldn't get into. It's called Eliza from the references to Pygmalion and the morphing of Eliza Doolittle from a flower-seller to a lady. In this case, Eliza is a computer program changing into generative A.I.
The MTC describe this as follows:
"Dr Joseph Weizenbaum (Dan Spielman), a brilliant professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, carries the trauma of a childhood fleeing Nazi Germany. When he begins testing a new computer program designed to simulate talk therapy – using details of the private life of his secretary Becky (Manali Datar) – the lines between code and connection begin to blur.
The project is lauded by his research assistant (Hamish Michael) and his colleagues, but as wider interest in his breakthrough intensifies, Weizenbaum begins to question the true cost of his innovation.
As society grapples with the ethics of rapidly advancing and increasingly invasive technologies, director Paige Rattray (Black is the New White) delivers an urgent and unnerving depiction of the birth of AI."
Although there were others in the audience who gave this a standing ovation, I was glad to get out of the auditorium. For me, the story fell flat. Sure, it's early in the season, but I was bored. Working in I.T. I could see what they were trying to do, but it fell flat. The three actors gave this there best, but for me, it didn't hit. There were too many Orwell references, ad infinitum. It was circular. Sure, we know now the joys of generative AI, and this was the start of it, but this was trying to do too much with too little.
I did like the set. I did like that the stagehands came out for applause at the end of the night. I like the murmuration light show about three-quarters the way through (which went on a bit too long) but yeah, this one was not for me.
Some obviously liked this a lot more than Jay and I did (Jay slept for most of the first act). I was struggling to stay engaged.
Just because it didn't hit for me doesn't mean others won't like it. However, I can't recommend this. There are better things on and around Melbourne at the moment.
I'm wising up to the insidious nature of online subscriptions.
Buy something. Get signed up for a subscription which you barely know you're doing. Forget about the subscription. Get stung for an amount of money you hadn't budgeted for. Get stuck with a service or product you don't want or need.
Today's case in point - Adobe. I don't have an Adobe licence. I don't mind paying for a limited licence for a short time, like today, when I needed Adobe to make some changes to a PDF file. This isn't something I do often, but rather than find a sub-par online cheap fake, I may as well sign up for a week's trial for a dollar. Makes sense to me. My document gets updated quickly and easily with the good software, then the licence goes away.
WRONG
They've also signed me up for a monthly subscription, not only for the Adobe suite, but their AI offering too.
I just need to fix a document. Sheesh. A ten-minute job. They want me to pay $30 a month for the Adobe, and another $12 a month for the AI.
Thankfully, it was caught in time. Once I'd done the task, I logged back into the Adobe website, cancelled the two subscriptions, made sure I had emails saying the subscriptions were cancelled, and then breathed a sigh of relief.
It just seems more and more vendors are signing you up for these subscriptions. The Adobe crew were thankfully very upfront about the subscription. Not every purchase is like that. Often the first thing you know that you've been signed up for one of these subscriptions is when the funds come out of your account.
One of the best gifts I've ever received is a voucher for the Wheeler Centre. "The Wheeler Centre?" you ask. It's a hub dedicated to books, ideas and writing, where writers and their audience can connect. Just must sort of place.
The voucher was a regift - my friend's daughter received it from her work, she gave it to her mum, and her Mum passed it on to me - for which I will be eternally grateful.
What nobody tells you is that writers are great people who tell fantastic stories and can talk underwater with a mouth full of marbles. The Wheeler Centre regularly puts authors in conversation with other writers, who sit down and chew the fat, normally about the author's new book and the themes within.
Every time I come away from these sessions absolutely blown away, not only by the ideas, but the generosity extended by the authors. Most times I'll come away from with a book as well. I mean, it would be rude not to. Besides, it's not hoarding if it's books.
So, this last week, I ended up using the last of this voucher. Last Tuesday was the talk at the Town Hall with Magda Szubanski. Last Thursday was the launch of Carrie Tiffany's new book, The Lady with the Dog, in conversation with Helen Garner. Last night I got to see Andrew O'Hagan talk with Marieke Hardy about his new book, On Friendship - a series of essays on the subject.
What gets me is how generous these writers are. They delve into their own lives, their ideas and their processes. They provoke thoughts and emotions. They inspire and entertain. They make me feel like I can write a book too.
I've already written about Magda Szubanski's wonderful session at the Town Hall. She is a true legend and icon.
Carrie Tiffany is an old teacher of mine. Her writing is amazing. Like Claire Keegan, the Irish writer, she writes small books with a huge impact. Being in the same room as Helen Garner is also very special. They launched the book with the snap of a Scotch Finger biscuit. Very Carrie. Very cool. It's always good to connect with other writers.
Andrew O'Hagan is a Scottish writer from great Glasgow. I could sit and listen to him for hours. His latest book, On Friendship, is a collection of essays on the greater theme of friendship. O'Hagan appears to be a man very skilled at friendship. He spoke of many friends, of how making people feel seen, of holding presence, of being there, and friendship's ability to morph, grow and disappear is unique to all friendships as one of the wonders of the world. It was a wonderful talk.
I bought a copy of his last novel, Caledonian Road. I've read a couple of his books - Mayflies, which looks at the end of a special friendship, is a great, thought-provoking read. As he was doing a signing, I popped up. May as well say hello, and thanks for his wonderful work.
"It's lovely, to meet you," he said as he held out a hand.
"And you, though we have met before."
"Yes, you were here at a writer's festival 25-years-ago. I was volunteering and I drove you from the hotel down to the venue. You were texting Zadie Smith. You're one of my best author stories." (This goes down with being stuck in traffic with David Malouf and saying to Graeme Blundell that my father would be very pleased I got to drive around Alvin Purple.)
O'Hagan exudes the air of the incredibly decent man.
The curse of our block has struck this side of the driveway.
It came as a text message from my downstairs neighbour yesterday morning. It appears someone finally looked into the faint gas smell you'd occasionally detect in the stairwell.
"Hey Pand, they've shut off the hot water. It seems whoever did the recent repairs botched it and we're lucky the whole thing didn't blow up."
Joy.
When you think about it, we're spoiled. Generations, eons even, have done without hot water. I know that my grandparents would have had to manually heat water daily for bathing and other household jobs.
We've just gone soft. I've gone soft. The hot water in this flat has always been good and reliable. There was no notice that the hot water service might blow up the units.
Regardless, it's been over 24 hours since we've had hot water in the flat. I've got very good at boiling the kettle. The dicky bird bath, as my mother used to call it, has become my best friend.
Thankfully, it's not too cold at the moment. Filling up the bathroom sink with hot water, give yourself a sponge bath, when quickly rinse off with the cold before giving yourself a wipe over with the last of the warm water. It's not ideal, but it does the job.
There's always a shower at the gym.
I might be able to bum a shower off friends.
We've just received the following from the body corporate:
So, there's nine flats without hot water. Mine is one of them.
Speaking to the downstairs neighbour, it once this has all passed the committee, this probably isn't going to happen until sometime next week.
I just have to remind myself that I'm lucky to be off work, I have an active gym membership, understanding friends and a working kettle. Also, as a tenant, I don't have to pay for this.
I tell myself it's a first world problem. But an annoying one, for somebody who normally showers twice a day.
I am part-Virgo, therefore, my life revolves around lists. I'm also ADHD, which means if it doesn't make the list, there is a good chance the activity will fall into the ether, never to be seen again, and even then, it might not get done.
The lists have different ranks of importance.
There's my daily must-do list which is in place while I'm between jobs:
An hour of exercise
An hour of job hunting
An hour of cleaning / spring cleaning / household chores
And an hour of writing
It means things fall into a routine and I feel like I've accomplished something.
With the cleaning there's the ten things rule - can I list ten things that I've done, or put away, or sorted out. It's amazing how much can get done this way (I'm on thing number five at the moment).
I've got list of things that need to be done at the temple. While I'm off and we're between cleaners, I may as well get paid for doing the job - it's well overdue - and it's a big job:
Bathroom floors (upstairs and down)
Clean the toilets (5 in all)
Clean the sinks in the bathrooms
Dust all the surfaces in the bathrooms
The kitchen floor
The kitchen surfaces.
Mop the stairs.
Mop out the dining rooms.
All surfaces in the dining room
Hoover the temple (downstairs)
Dust all of the seats in the temple (and there are lots of them)
Hoover the temple (downstairs)
Dust all of the seats in the temple (and there are lots of them)
Hoover the office.
Dust the office.
And I know I've forgotten something - however, being fizzy of brain, I've not got to this yet, mainly because the procrastination that comes from my brain asking:
Where do I start?
Do I maybe do certain rooms at a time?
What am I going to listen to while cleaning?
Is my bluetooth speaker charged up?
What if somebody is trying to get me?
Should I do this in one day or spread it over a couple (there is not rush)
What about parking?
Will this blow up my hoover?
Does this mean I can get something from the bakery down the road?
And how do I stop the side quests which might have me sitting in the office doing ritual?
Putting all of this down has helped a lot. I've done the job hunting today, I'm seeing Cleo the trainer tonight and I've done a heap of washing and ironing, so I'm well down the list. I've also:
Contacted the estate agent about the roaches
Rage-baited the cat
Read some of my novel (while rage baiting the cat)
Whined about the fact the hot water has been turned off and having to take a dicky bird bath
Interviewing is hard enough. Interviewing for a computer screen is diabolical.
As a part of my daily looking for work effort today had me firing off an email to a contact a friend had provided, sent in a couple of applications to jobs that seemed half suitable and procrastinated about this online video interview.
Yes, this is my scatter gun approach to finding work, but you never know when your CV might get in front of the right person giving you an opening into the right job.
But I procrastinated about the video interview. I took down the recycling. I went for a long walk. I read my book. I did some crochet. And I avoided the looming 9 p.m. deadline for this interview. I'd only had three passive-aggressive emails to do the bloody thing.
(Okay, I'll admit, I'm not overly enamoured with the company - but this is good for the interviewing skills).
I finally got back from my walk, I showered, brushed out my hair, put on a bra and sat down in front of the computer.
Sure, I get why some companies want to do their preliminary interviews this way - stock questions, you get to do what I call the 'two-headed check" making sure that whoever is in front of them is basically presentable. However, it's very impersonal. You're introduced to the process by an AI generated talking head, then you get on with the questions - on which you're given between one and three minutes to answer. You also get to chance to review and re-record, if necessary.
If I'm honest, it's probably not the job for me - mainly the sector is one I've not worked for - not that this stops me for applying. At the end of the day, it's an experience and if I get through to the next round, we'll see what happens.
Regardless, this isn't my favourite way of interviewing. It's incredibly impersonal. You can't ask questions. You don't build a rapport with the people you have to win over. Sorry, it's not for me.
Anyway, onwards I say. I'll be working soon. The right thing will come along. All will be well.
I keep reminding myself that I've only been 'between jobs' since Wednesday evening.
Strangely, I'm looking forward to a bit of time off work. My contract ended on Wednesday, so I'm officially between jobs. A job will come, and come soon, so it's best I enjoy the downtime - not that my downtime looks quiet and boring - I have too much to do, if I'm being honest.
2. What do you wish you had more time for?
I want to make more time to dedicate to finishing these bloody novels. I must stop procrastinating about this.
3. What would like to do less?
Procrastinate.
4. What do you spend too much money on?
Stupid shit on the internet. As I'm keeping a tight rein on what I'm spending at the moment, it's taking every fibre of my being to stop the dopamine spending. I'm doing pretty well. Long may it continue.
5. What childhood wish never came true?
I always wanted to meet Prince Charming and get married. I've not achieved either, but that's led to an interesting life. You have to see this as a good thing.
6. What did you do to celebrate your last birthday?
Ah, nothing. We had book group at the pub the night before, and on the day of my birthday, I had a very quiet day at work, then got tortured by my trainer at the gym in the evening. I wanted a quiet one, so it was fine.
7. What drives you nuts?
Here's a list:
Tinnitus
When you run out of milk in the evening and there's not enough left for your morning coffee.
Loopy people who sit next to you on the tram (I'm a loopy person magnet)
Negative people
Overly critical people
People who are rude to service staff
People who drive and don't use their indicators
Slow walkers
Should I go on?
8. What keeps you sane?
Friends, books, movies, long walks, my cat, exercise, talking, my psychologist, limiting alcohol - among other things
9. What historic date is etched in your memory?
More a time, the first three months of 2011 were pretty awful. There was the big Christchurch earthquake, Cyclone Yasi, the Japanese earthquake - big global events which were on the telly and were hard to watch - especially as I was home waiting to find a job. I had to stop watching the news.
16 December 2015 was the day my niece passed away from leukaemia. That was just tragic.
10. What one thing would make your life immeasurably better?
Possibly a GLP-1 that isn't expensive and doesn't make your hair fall out, but that's not going to happen.
There could be an extra day in the week, with an extra two hours in the day that I could put aside for reading and writing.
1) I did not get a good sleep last night - no idea why.
2) I love my podiatrist. The fact that I have a podiatrist is a bit scary, but I only see her once a year for a 'clean up'. Regardless, she's better than the dentist.
3) I met an old colleague for a catch up to discuss a possible role. We were there for an hour and a half. it was lovely to reconnect.
4) Being the swat that I am, I dropped off my spent coffee pods at the Nescafe shop in town. I feel virtuous.
5) I went to go for a write in the library only to find my iPad was out of juice and no charging cable was to hand.
6) A lovely massage was later today. I'm going back to the practice next week to see the acupuncturist to try and get rid of a small but irritating issue.
7) And now the massage has left me a big puddle, so I'm going to go to bed.
September was a good reading month. Technically, I've read ten books, but two of those books I'll class as half books because technically I had about 30 pages to read and they were finished in the next month. So, I'll be giving my quick review of Sophie, Standing There by Meg Mason and leaving my review of Whistler, which I finished this morning, until next month. Thankfully, nothing was too disappointing this month. Anyway, here we go.
1) Sophie, Standing There by Meg Mason - Paper - 3.5 Stars
I loved Meg Mason's Sorrow and Bliss when it came out a few years ago, so I was hoping to feel the same about this. But I didn't.
The blurb from the Harper Collins website describes the book as such:
"Sophie Pattison is such a lovely person. Warm, kind, amazingly positive. She works as a freelance sound technician for literary festivals. She is a massive reader and was recently forced to move house. She is bracingly lonely.* So much so, the absence of others feels like a physical weight, if that makes sense. But then Sophie discovers an author through work and comes to adore her. Her books, interviews and podcasts, her wisdom and brilliance, her beautiful words. It's like solace and company. It's almost like love. And Sophie would love to meet her, although she never will, obviously. The author would never come to her festival. She's too famous for that. Too brilliant, too beautiful. And in a way, thank goodness, because that would change everything. Sophie's entire life.
But ... what if she did?"
I didn't connect with this until later in the book. It was nearly a did not finish, but I wanted to find out about "The Author" and what happened there, and ultimately, I'm glad I stuck around, but, this was all a bit name-droppy and niche. If, like me, you do go to a lot if literary events and author talks, or ever have volunteered at a literary festival, you'll get it. Many won't. It started out a bit pretentious, but it did get better.
2) Mansfield Park by Jane Austen - Audio - 3.75 Stars
This is not my favourite Austen - I'm a lover of Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. This one is okay - but not my favourite. You do have to like the plucky Fanny Price, who is sent off to live with her better off cousins, giving her access to a better education, manners and the hoi-polloi, and Austen's biting wit is all through this. But it doesn't have the emotional clout of some of her other books. I also feel sorry for the fact that all a women perceived to be good for is getting married. You can also see that she's going to end up with the lovely Edmund, her cousin... the second half was better than the first.
Frances Barber's narration was sound. No other notes.
3) Lost Lambs by Madelaine Cash - Paper - 3.75 Stars
This one held out a lot of promise but let me down a little at the end. A book about dysfunctional families and communities and the characters that live in them. Part family drama, part light thriller this first novel by Madelaine Cash truly is laugh-out-loud funny in places, and the voice is superb. It really appealed to my warped, dark sense of humour.
The Penguin website describes it as such:
"For the three Flynn daughters, it’s been disastrous since their parents opened up their marriage. Abigail, the eldest, is dating an ex-soldier several years her senior nicknamed ‘War Crimes Wes’. Louise, the middle child, maintains a secret correspondence with an online terrorist. And the brilliant youngest, Harper, is being sent to a wilderness reform camp due to her insistence that someone – or something – is monitoring the town’s citizens.
Casting a shadow across their lives is Paul Alabaster, a nefarious local billionaire. Rumours of corruption circulate, but no one dares dig too deep. No one except Harper, whose obsession with Alabaster’s machinations sends the family hurtling into a criminal conspiracy – one that may just, finally, bring them closer together."
This is a romp. I loved the fact that the family, though deeply ga-ga, were all there for each other. It's not perfect, but there are some very great things about it as well. The errant g - which I will say nothing more about, is one of those stylistic choices which will have you scratching your head.
I'd love to find somebody to discuss this with. It's not perfect, but it is cool.
4) The Peacock Emporium by Jo Jo Moyes - Audio - 4 Stars
"In the sixties, Athene Forster was the most glamorous girl of her generation. Nicknamed the Last Deb, she was also beautiful, spoiled, and out of control. When she agreed to marry the gorgeous young heir Douglas Fairley-Hulme, her parents breathed a sigh of relief. But within two years, rumors had begun to circulate about Athene's affair with a young salesman.
Thirty-five years later, Suzanna Peacock is struggling with her notorious mother's legacy. The only place Suzanna finds comfort is in The Peacock Emporium, the beautiful coffee bar and shop she opens that soon enchants her little town. There she makes perhaps the first real friends of her life, including Alejandro, a male midwife, escaping his own ghosts in Argentina.
The specter of her mother still haunts Suzanna. But only by confronting both her family and her innermost self, will she finally reckon with the past--and discover that the key to her history, and her happiness, may have been in front of her all along."
I like Jo Jo Moyes' writing, and really enjoy her historical fiction, because yes, the sixties are now classed as historical fiction. I also remember liking her Ship of Brides - that was really well done.
As audiobooks go, this was good car fodder. Once you get a handle of the large gaggle of characters and the split timelines, it really comes together. You feel for Suzanna, the first daughter of an upper class family, stuck in a loveless marriage and the situation she's put in. You do love Alejandro and the collection of characters that commune in the shop.
Is this the best book in the world - no, but its still a good read that slots nicely between heavier are more literary reads. A good Mum book, if you get my drift.
5) Nesting by Roisin O'Donnell - Paper - 5 Stars
This was a standout audiobook for me last year, and it was a standout read again this year. This was our September reads for book group. It was just as good the second time around.
"On a bright spring afternoon in Dublin, Ciara Fay makes a split-second decision that will change her life. Grabbing an armful of clothes from the washing line, Ciara straps her two young daughters into her car and drives away. Head spinning, all she knows for certain is that home is no longer safe.
It was meant to be an escape. But with dwindling savings, no job, and her family across the sea, Ciara finds herself adrift, facing a broken housing system and the voice of her own demons. As summer passes and winter closes in, she must navigate raising her children in a hotel room, searching for a new home and dealing with her husband Ryan's relentless campaign to get her to come back.
Because leaving is one thing, but staying away is another."
This is a quick read, but oh, so effective. This reads like a thriller, but displays the plight of those fleeing domestic violence with a clarity like no other.
This is essential reading.
Also, if you get a chance, listen to it on audiobook. Louisa Harland's narration is impeccable.
6) The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde - Audiobook - 5 Stars
I've read this six or seven times. I noted that Russell Tovey was reading this for Audible. He's fantastic and I delved into Wilde's little book of a Faustian promise and a magical picture locked in an attic again.
No notes - it's still superb.
On a side note, the one-woman play of the book is coming back to Melbourne next year. If you didn't make it the first-time round, DO IT. Nikki Sheilds is fantastic, as is this interpretation of the book.
7) The Things That Matter Most by Gabbie Stroud - Paper - 4 stars
The Readings website describes the plot like this:
"The staff of St Margaret's Primary School are hanging by a thread. There's serious litigation pending, the school is due for registration, and a powerful parent named Janet Bellevue has a lot to say about everything. As teachers they're trying to remain professional, as people they're fast unravelling.
There's Tyson, first year out of uni and nervous as hell, Derek the Assistant Principal who's dropped the ball on administration, Bev from the office who's confronting a serious diagnosis, and Sally-Ann who's desperate for a child of her own.
Thank goodness for kids like Lionel Merrick. Lionel is the student who steals your heart and makes the whole teaching gig worthwhile: he's cheerful, likeable and helpful - and devoted to his little sister Lacey. But Lionel has a secret of his own. As his future slides from vulnerable to dangerous, will someone from St Margaret's realise before it's too late?
As secrets threaten to be exposed and working demands increase, each staff member begins to lose sight of the things that matter most."
This was enjoyable - and shone a light on school communities and life in a country town. The characters are relatable. If you've got kids in school, or if you're a teacher, you will understand. I really liked the relationships shown in this. It's not a hard read and comes recommended.
8) Frankie by Graham Norton - Audio - 4 Stars
Who knew Graham Norton from the telly was such a good writer? This small novel about a woman from a small town out of Cork making her way in the world is very enjoyable.
The Readings website describes the plot as such:
"Frankie Howe was never quite sure enough of herself to take centre stage - after all, life had already judged her harshly. Now in her eighties, she finds it easier to forget the life that came before.
Then Damian, a young Irish carer, arrives at her London flat to keep an eye on her as she recovers from a fall. A memory is sparked, and the past crackles into life as Damian listens to the story Frankie has kept stored away all these years.
From post-war Ireland to the dazzling art scene of 1960s New York, Frankie shares a world in which friendships and chance encounters collide. A place where life blazes with an intensity that can't last but will perhaps live on in other ways and in other people."
This was a wonderful listen - made even better by Graham Norton narrating the book. It's very enjoyable.
9) Our Noble Selves by Kate Atkinson - Audio - 4 Stars
Kate Atkinson is fast becoming a favourite author of mine, and this, her latest book is wonderful. This historical novel with a backbone of a mystery keeps you on your toes. It also looks at some of the barking mad history that is the 1951 Festival of Britain. Immaculately research and wonderfully written, if you like your historical novels on unusual topics, this should fit the bill. I also love the pathos she gives her character. Harry Flynn is a marvel - seriously.
10) Sipsworth by Simon van Booy - Audio - 4 stars
This charming small book is about a woman, a mouse and the power of community.
Goodreads provides the following information:
"Over the course of a single week, a woman who is ready to die discovers an unexpected reason to live.
Following the deaths of her husband and son, Helen Cartwright returns to the English village of her childhood after living abroad for six decades. Her only wish is to die quickly and without fuss.
Helen retreats into her home on Westminster Crescent, becoming a creature of routine and habit. Then, one cold autumn night, a chance encounter with an abandoned pet mouse on the street outside her house sets Helen on a surprising journey of friendship.
Sipsworth is a reminder that there can be second chances. No matter what we have planned for ourselves, sometimes the world has plans of its own. Simon Van Booy’s lyrical storytelling is a delight even as it will fill your heart."
This is only 220 pages long (or five hours of audio book listening). It's a charming, heartfelt novel that looks at aging, dying, memory and building community. It's got some lovely messages in and a touch of British bonkers-ness that I love so much. This is great for a quick read. Sure, it's a little twee, but if you can suspend judgement, it's worth it.
As I finished Ann Patchett's Whistler this morning, that will be reviewed with my October books.
