This evening's challenge is trying to get anything done when there is a needy cat wanting to be played with. After belly rubs and letting him chase after his feather stick for half an hour, then let him do skiddies while chasing the red dot, I've been released. I tried to write this earlier, but his lordship was clawing at my leg. He's being needy, God love him.
Anyway, I'm setting myself a couple of challenges for November.
Firstly, NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow. 50,000 words over the month of November. Or around 1700 words a day.
It's time.
Second challenge is to do the 20 Classes in November challenge at the gym. Attend 20 classes, get put in the draw for a decent prize. Want to give it a try. Again, it's time to go back to this fitness thing and really show what my 54-year-old body can do. It means fitting in the odd CORE and Body Attack class on top of pump. Besides, endorphins make me happy.
And as it's Pump class at 9.15 tomorrow (on a public holiday - how rude) I best be off.
It appears that for the first time in about ten years, no Sunday questions have been set. The inimitable Bev at Sunday Stealing ended up in hospital and has had computer issues and because of this, no questions have been set.
I'm wishing Bev a speedy recovery and the end to her computer woes.
So, what am I going to write about?
Nothing.
Heading off to a barbeque in a bit and there's a salad I need to make.
There's also some knitting gear I need to find as I think there is a chance I'll be teaching a six-year-old how to knit at the barbeque. She was keen last time I saw her at a barbeque.
The washing is on the line. After a week of rain, it's nice to have a good drying day. From tomorrow, the rain comes back. the joys of Spring.
Regardless, there are no questions to answer, so I'm getting a day off.
I was in the mood for a film. Something light and funny. Something a bit different. Something accessible.
I chose Bros for a couple of reasons. Mainly, it was:
Being touted as a romantic comedy
And a New York story
And my friend Damo wrote an article in The Conversation about it, which piqued my interest.
So, I went into this knowing it was a romantic comedy, where the two leads were gay men.
As a romantic comedy, this really works.
Bobby (Billy Eichner) is a Podcaster who's also trying to get a LGBTQI+ museum up and running. A New York Jew, he's self-aware, a little self-hating and quite okay with his single status, though he's dating - and if he really digs deep, he's not that happy. (A, joy, Grindr...)
Out one night, he meets Aiden (Luke MacFarlane) a hot, seemingly basic lawyer, who's also not into commitment, but oh, hell, he likes Garth Brooks' music.
And then it follows a normal romantic comedy trajectory, where the two initially don't like each other, but then work out they do, only to settle down for a bit, before falling out, and then, realising all of the things they'd done wrong, get back together after a big production number spells out their feelings for each other.
In other words, this is pretty much a Sleepless in Seattle or When Harry met Sally - but with gay men as the focus.
And you know, it works wonderfully.
Yes, there were quite a lot of in jokes about the "alternate lifestyle", but what makes this a good romantic comedy is that you quickly end up caring for Bobby and Aiden. They're nice people. You want them to do well together.
It was also great to see a movie about gay love where the characters aren't tragically tortured (think Brokeback Mountain or Boys Don't Cry). This is delightfully light and fluffy. The only torture going on is the self-imposed self-doubt going on in Bobby's mind (Aiden has a bit of it too).
And like all good rom-coms, it makes New York look pretty, and everybody lives in places they could never afford and it's just a bit of light fantasy. It's just that this one is queer inclusive.
Unfortunately, few will see this film. It's a solid romantic comedy. As a closet lover of the genre, it ticked a lot of boxes and kept me entertained.
And Luke Macfarlane is lovely to look at - gay, straight, pastafarian - I don't care.
The Theatre: Melbourne Theatre Company - Southbank Theatre
The run: Ends 29 October
Stars: A very solid 4.5
I have been looking forward to this one for two years. Originally, it was supposed to show in the 202 MTC season, but we all know what happened then. Even more unfortunately, Melbourne went into lockdown the day before this play premiered.
And then, there was this:
It was on the ABC in the middle of lockdown. This soliloquy got me in the gut, and the heart. And yeah, I was sold. (As I found out tonight, this was the final speech of the play). Then we had to move the tickets because I had something on. Then I got COVID. So, we were lucky to be able to change our tickets - and all was right with the world. Jay wasn't as enthusiastic about this, having seen a number of versions of Edmond Rostand's play and never liking it that much.
I'm glad we made it, because I would be KICKING myself if I missed this.
What Virginia Gay has done in this has completely reworked Cyrano, giving it a queer, post-modern twist AND a happy ending. It is most wonderful. Traditionally, Cyrano is run through with a sword at the end. This was much nicer.
For those unaware of Cyrano, here's what the programme says about it:
"Cyrano is the most interesting person in any room – a wordsmith, a charmer, a ruthless fighter. She works twice as hard and runs twice as fast as any of the pretty boys, because she’s deeply ashamed of something about herself. Enter Roxanne: brilliant, beautiful Roxanne – a student of life, with a penchant for poetry and a way with words, just like Cyrano. But Roxanne doesn’t like Cyrano … not like that. She’s only got eyes for Yan: hot, manly Yan; all-brawn-and-no-brains Yan, who is dumbstruck around Roxanne. Probably shy, right? But it’s not Yan writing these perfect love scenes, it’s Cyrano …"
This is a very funny play, filled with breaks in the fourth wall, very minor audience participation, in jokes, jibes and a general mirth which is infectious.
Virginia Gay is most wonderful as the eloquent, yet bashful Cyrano. Tuuli Narkle a sparkling Roxanne, who calls out the crap better than anybody. Claude Jabbour is solid as Yan, the meatheaded soldier in love with Roxane - the body of a Greek sorry, slash that, Lebanese God, who was most put out when I found out he was just a fat Chris Pratt (see, in jokes). Then there was the Chorus, Holly Austin, Robin Goldsworthy and Milo Hartill, who act as a conscience and a comic relief for the show (not that the play needs comic relief - the play's hilarious).
Sarah Goodes direction is fast paced, soulful and holds just the right amount of pathos to balance out the breakneck comedy.
What also had me was the audience. Being an MTC subscriber, I'm used to seeing the grey-haired arty set in the auditorium. Cyrano has managed, in its six-week run, to become the hottest ticket in town. The audience was a lot younger - and a lot more diverse - but what would you expect from a play about acceptance and inclusion after a queer reworking.
Unfortunately, it only has one more day to run - tickets are harder to get than unicorn poo.
I'm just miffed I didn't see this earlier. If I had, I'm pretty sure I would have picked up another ticket and gone again.
The aim is to get 50,000 words written in the month of November. Or 1,667 words a day. It's not always about quality, but quantity - and as I'm finding out, to write a novel of around 100,000 words, you probably need to write around a millions words, then cut them down.
It's time I've got myself back into this novel. I've got a plan to get a first draft out by the time this alleged Writer's Retreat in Paris. In want this to be the pay off.
So - How do you plan to write 1667 words a day?
So far, after going through a couple of versions of this book, I've found that I'm not great at writing linear plots.
I'm also not bad at writing short storries.
So maybe this is a way through.
I've got my characters. Faith - my protagonist, Laz, the antagonist/love interest, Harry, her best friend and Mo, an old friend with whom she has a difficult relationship.
I know what has to happen.
It's now getting to the filler.
So maybe I should assign myself a short story on similar themes each day.
So, here are 30 things I can write about for this book:
The contents of Faith's fridge.
Finding her way around the neighbourhood
A bit of history with Mo
Faith and her indoor plants
A bad case of buyer's regret
10 boring things about Faith and her current predicament
Faith's guilty pleasure
Faith on her marriage
Loving Laz
Faith in her 20s
What Faith likes to wear.
What is Faith saying Yes to when she really should be saying no.
What Faith loves about herself.
Faith and her current practicalities.
Faith trying to rehome her cat.
What happens when you put Mo and Laz in the same room.
Faith and finding a partner
Faith's most favourite part of the world.
What Faith wished she did differently
Faith going shopping
What's a day like for Faith when she's working.
The worst day of Faith's life.
How Faith and Harry when they were young.
What Faith does to irritate Mo.
How Lax, Harry and Mo react to Faith's predicament
What is Faith's worst fear.
How is Faith planning this stage of her life.
Faith and her doula, Debbie.
Things that Faith never thought of before she came in this predicament
Nothing tests your health more than something impromptu after being ill.
The call came around just after six. Was I doing anything? Nope. Feel like a walk? Why not.
After a full week off exercise, the thought of going for a decent walk felt like a good thing to do. That the COVID didn't get into my lungs, even better. And that the lingering tiredness, though still there, is starting to abate - it was worth giving a walk a go.
And besides, it was my old boss calling, in town with work. She was up for a walk too. I gave her directions to get out my way. Half an hour later, I collected her from the tram stop, in my possession, two umbrellas, which were needed as it pissed down for much of the walk. But it didn't matter - it was a warmish night - what's a bit of water?
Other that it was great to see my old boss, it was equally wonderful to go for a walk along the soggy Yarra tow path. Very few people were around, due to the time and the weather.
The river has been up high. I was shocked to see the amount of detritus hanging off the low branches.
The Walmer Street Jetty, where I've been known to sit and have lunch on a good day, is underwater. With all the rain that's about, it's understandable. The tow path was showing evidence of flooding, although the paths were clear.
We walked for a good hour, having a great catch up. I haven't seen her since I left my last job. A quick trip to the supermarket, the last short distance home, a quick check on the cat (for my old boss had seen a lot of Lucifer's arse over the years over zoom - she wanted to see his face) and I ran her back to her hotel.
Two great things about the night - firstly, it was lovely to catch up with an old friend. And secondly, I've bounced back from the worst of that wretched disease.
Lunch was a pork bahn mi. Didn't want to cook. Didn't feel like salad. Wanted something that might cut through the cardboard and metal taste which is still in habiting my mouth (thanks COVID). Wanted something cheap and easy and vaguely healthy.
The other thing which was needed was access to about 20 grams of sugar. Being the day the kombucha tank is bottled, the sweet tea replaced along with the scoby, my sugar reserves were low. I was just that little bit short.
Joe at the bakery is a good lad. They know me there. I pop in for coffee regularly.
But I changed my order. I'd go for a roast pork Bahn Mi instead of chicken. And then, I asked in my nicest voice, if I could possibly buy half an espresso cup of sugar - explaining I was cooking something, and I'd come up a little short. Joe, the love gave me the sugar, free of charge. Nice man.
But the banh mi. Oh, the bahn mi. Sure, this is the bakery which is the newest on the block - it's not the one I normally go to for chicken bahn mi. The rolls, though fresh, aren't quite as crispy.
But the pork!
Oh my goodness. What is it with Chinese roast pork? Those flavours of Chinese Five Spice, Hoi Sin, garlic and who knows what else, all mixed in with pate, butter, a little bit of chilli, along with some cucumber and lightly pickled carrots and a stalk of coriander.
Utter bliss.
But now I'm thinking, could I make my own? How hard can it be? Looking at the recipe, it looks pretty easy. Hoisin sauce, Chinese Five Spice, garlic, honey. Mix, heat and marinade. I think this might have to be done.
Life is too short not to have bahn mi in your life.
