On the way home from the gym today I stopped off at a corner store to pick up some milk. I used to go to this corner store almost every day after primary school to spend pocket money on video games (Gyruss and 1942) and mixed lollies.
Since it was hot out I decided to treat myself to an ice-cream/ice-block and saw one I haven't had in maybe 20 years (crap, am I that old?). The Golden Gaytime is unlike any other ice-cream bar I've ever had, not least because of it's unusual name. You'd think, in these days of political correctness that at some point the Golden Gaytime would have changed its name to something else. I mean, what self-respecting kid aged 6-15 is going to been seen dead eating a "Golden Gaytime". You're just asking for ridicule and thereby cutting off 50% of your market right there.
And yet it survives. I bought one and, ignoring the fingerpointing and laughing from the school kids outside the store, came home and ate it. If I'd thought ahead, I would have taken a photo of it, but like I said, it was hot out and they do taste bloody good.
My pops, Dave, does a lot of customer service for BootsnAll since we hired him a few months ago. Today, at breakkie he told me about a 17 year old Aussie that wanted to stay in an Airlie Beach Hostel that we have on our site. The young man was wondering if he could stay at a hostel on his own despite being 17.
Here is one of the e-mails he received back from a Hostel Manager:
"Hi Dave- sorry but we are a very small hostel and we do not take schoolies.
Kind regards"
1 of the 4 hostels up there would allow him....but that e-mail cracked me up a bit.
I must admit I love a good thunderstorm. I remember as a kid going down to the local school oval in the pouring rain for a game of "slushy football". We didn't care about the number of tries scored, only how far you could slide after diving for the tryline.
Last night was a cracker of a thunderstorm. Didn't arrive over us until around 10:30pm, but the light show was unreal. Would have loved to drive to the top of Mt Coot-tha to watch it all.
Today there's no rain and it's very warm again. The only indication that there was a storm last night is the gusty wind that's been blowing all day.
Anyone who is worried about crime in this city can take heart from the fact that there is evidence the violent criminals are incredibly stupid.
Student bashing another mistaken identity
This is the latest in a series of home invasion attacks where the victim wasn't the intended target. In July a student had 3 fingers hacked off with an axe and in the same month another man was beaten to death with baseball bats but police believe he wasn't the person the assailants came to kill.
I'm sure this is no consolation to the victims. But you've got to wonder, if you get into some heavy business with the wrong people, just give them a dud address. It doesn't look like they check their facts before they go bashing in doors.
I was missing a bank statement so I called the bank for them to send me out a replacement.
The cost: $14
Fourteen bloody dollars for a piece of paper! No wonder Aussie banks make billions in profit each year. This is just ridiculous.
A student in Sydney (and I'm assuming here that it was a university student) has nearly karked it from eating slugs:
(Thx Joe E for this gem)
I couldn't stop crying on my way to work this morning. Not a bad thing, and long overdue, perhaps. Maybe 'it's a girl thing', but there's nothing like a good howl to remind you that you're alive. And it’s been a while for me, so it also reminded me that, yes, I have feelings and am in fact, a very emotional person. Now anyone who knows me knows that, but, I have to say, I’ve not felt much/shown as much for the last while…
I've had the weirdest/painful couple of months and haven't had/perhaps made the time to 'actually stop' and er, let it all out. I guess it was also the result of my ‘introspective weekend’, culminating in the release of the last couple of months’ emotions…
I lost my best friend from high school in March this year [on International Women's Day no less] and, while I’ve lost ‘various’ relatives and both my parents, her death really hit me hard. I guess ‘cos she was so young [30!], so positive, so strong and healthy, such a fighter, even ‘til the last day of her life, so appreciative of life/her family/people in her life, at the happiest point in her life, with so much left to give and experience… It still sucks, it’s still a great injustice, and still doesn’t seem real sometimes.
She loved the rain and there’s been a lot of rain lately, none more than this morning as I was driving to work, with the windscreen wipers flitting back and forth. It’s also the third anniversary of my mother’s death tomorrow and I’ve been thinking that, perhaps because of my friend's more recent death, I’ve not been thinking about my mum of late. Or so I thought. It was only a few days ago that I was thinking, I haven’t thought of mum for a while, I must be ‘fully over it’, she must’ve ‘released me’, knowing I’m okay getting on with my life, etc. Mums never leave us, though, y’know. When the anniversary’s coming up I do get a bit introspective, but with so much going on this year, it’s been ‘incidental’, ‘in the background’. Or so I thought.
Yesterday, ‘for some reason’, I changed from listening to ‘my usual raucous cds’ in the car to, now don’t laugh, a bit of Faith Hill… On playing the opening track, There You’ll Be, this morning I just bawled. Tears were literally streaming down my face as I puttered along in peak-hour traffic on the freeway. Sappy as the lyrics may be, it reminds me of the strength of both my mum and Di, sadness that they’re gone, yet acceptance that they’re gone and appreciation of them in my life...
When I think back on these times
And the dreams we left behind
I'll be glad 'cause I was blessed
To get to have you in my life
When I look back on these days
I'll look and see your face
You were right there for me
In my dreams I'll always see your soul above the sky
In my heart there always be a place for you
For all my life
I'll keep a part of you with me
And everywhere I am
There you'll be
Well you showed me how it feels
To feel the sky within my reach
And I always will remember all
The strength you gave to me
Your love made me make it through
Oh, I owe so much to you
You were right there for me
'Cause I always saw in you
My light, my strength
And I want to thank you
Now for all the ways
You were right there for me
You were right there for me
For always
Posted Just Because
I bought a fish on the weekend. A very gorgeous bright blue Siamese fighting fish. They don’t take up much space – in fact, their ideal living environs is in as little water as that contained in a coffee mug-sized vessel [so I'm told?] He’s very cool and so far, seems happy enough in his new home - my blue bathroom.
I bought one ‘cos I think they look cool. That’s it, really. As a child I think we had goldfish from time to time - that would inevitably die after a short time - but I don’t recall ever being a real ‘fish person’. If there is such a thing? I’m a dog person. I hate, loathe, despise cats. Not a big fan of birds either. Love the bovines, don’t mind a camel or an elephant. But I didn’t realise how interesting this fish relationship could be. I mean, you just leave them in there to do their thing – er, swim in circles - occasionally drop some food in, change the water, bob’s yer uncle; how much of a ‘bond’ can you create?! It’s not like time spent with a dog, their dependancy on you and resultant loyalty/devotion to/relationship with you.
But, I actually found myself going in to check on him – hoping I hadn’t put too much/little ‘pH neutraliser’ in the water, over/underfed him, just seeing how he adapted, really. What does he think when I switch the light on or off, use the loo/shower/bath? Does he care when the room fills with condensation? Is it too dark, too light, too hot, too cold? He probably doesn’t give a damn. He’s still alive.
And, I’ve even found myself talking to him. Hello. Morning fish. How are you? But, I don’t have a name for him yet. I was thinking of calling him Madra, which is er, my doggit’s name [Irish for ‘dog’], because madra means ‘blue’ in Croatian – probably not the most creative moniker though. And besides, the ‘lord of the manor’ was pretty non-plussed to see the new addition to ‘his’ home in the first place! Still, out of sight, out of mind…
Maybe I'll just call him Fish.
Aquatic Ging
After consecutive weekends [some would say my lifetime!] of indulgence, and a potential one on the way, I actually decided against it.
On Friday night I had a work social club Ten Pin Bowling night, which was great craic [I even managed a bunch of strikes and spares!], if a little silly. I had a few light beers, but didn’t make a night of it - despite a friend’s tempting invitation to imbibe cocktails to celebrate her birthday - and was home before 9.
On Saturday morning, I awoke hangover-free [Oh joy! A refreshing change!] and took myself to yoga. I can’t express enough how right for me this form of relaxation is. Nothing else enables me to relax, ‘let go’, surrender, in such a deep and fulfilling way. I feel fantabulous every time I do it and wonder why I don’t make the time to do it more often. It gives me SO much ‘natural energy’ [as opposed to drink-fuelled and/or sleep depraved adrenalin] - it's the only thing that can simultaneously 'slow me down' and invigorate me.
I cancelled all my drinking plans, didn’t watch the rugby with my mates [though I won't deny that the $3 pints w Chris were tempting!], didn’t make the beer carton lederhosen for Oktoberfest. Instead, I had a bubble bath, a glass of wine with dinner and that was it. And it was funny that my headspace had turned inwards, ‘cos it was a weekend of reminiscence, indeed. An old friend called from Sydney, a nearby friend I’ve not seen for a couple of months called, two interstate friends sent me text messages, and an old school friend invited me round to dinner with about 8 other school friends. I declined all. Not because I was feeling anti-social, but simply because I preferred some much-need ‘me’ time. I even slept properly.
I did yoga again on Sundee am, then sat on my front steps in the sun with a coffee and watched the world go by for a bit. At least until my dog came and jumped on me, spilling the remainder of my coffee - as he invariably does! With abundant energy, I cleaned the house, did the ususal weekend errands [I rarely have time for!], sorted the random object-strewn yard my doggit had created/destroyed and picked up a bagful of his faeces [oh the joy of being a doggit-owner!].
I spent some quality time on the carpet, sifting through my much-neglected books about philosophy and religion, aromatherapy and natural medicine, and the like, and contemplated the potential mental stimuli of my future plans - postgraduate study [an idea I’ve been toying with since graduation 10 years ago!], writing my novel [finally!], my up-coming S-E Asia trip, and other self-nurturing plans.
I even did me toe-nails, smeared avocado all over my face, whacked two herbal teabags over my eyes, and sat around like a girl!
It’s funny how your body tells you to do this every so often. I feel great.
Inner Ging [I'm not a bloody hippy, Chris]
Went to the Rugby World Cup over the weekend and really enjoyed the atmosphere. Even though I was as far back as you can possibly be, the view was still superb and the crowd was excellent, even though Australia ran out easy winners.
Even though I bought the tickets on the opening day, by 9am you could not buy consecutive tickets so Toby and I had to sit in different aisles, about 30 metres away. No big deal and I'm poretty sure his seat was good too.
After the match the trains were packed so Toby suggested going down to TinBilly's for a pint. Not a bad idea at all. This place has a backpackers upstairs and there was a decent post-game crowd in there.
Back at the train station the crowds had dispersed and I made sure I got a shot of the BnA cap before Toby jumped on his train home.
I took a bunch of photos during the game and if you want to see them, click on the links on this article on Rugby World Cup Blog.
George Dunn, of Swagman fame, was in Brisbane for a couple of days and we'd made arrangements to watch the Fiji v. USA rugby world cup match. Unfortunately, those plans fell through, but he said the match was a good one.
Instead, I jumped on the train and met up with him, his brother Joe and Aussie girl Nikki at the Embassy Hotel in the city on Thursday night.
As I arrived I was handed a free drink coupon at the door and found George and co about to start a game of pool. Upon finding out about the coupon, he went to the front door, turned on the US charm and returned with several more coupons.
Making our way through the free beers, George asked about BootsnAll and its future plans and Nikki gave me the scoop on all sorts of new visa options for those wishing to spend extended amounts of time in the US. She also gave me a contact at IEP, which was very cool.
These guys were camping at a caravan park in an outer suburb of Brisbane and they weren't too pleased to see the skies open and the rain lash down heavily. "We pitched out tent at the bottom of a hill too," lamented George.
In the hope that the rain would ease before they returned, we wandered into the Queen St Mall to another bar. I'd suggested O'Malley's since I was there last week and thought it was pretty cool. It was a lot more crowded this time, be we managed to find a spot to sit tucked away in the back in our own little booth.
I don't know at what point we decided that it would be a good idea to talk about politics, or what kicked it off, but we spent about 2 hours solving the world's problems. Nikki was quite outspoken about the role of the US and the current state of world affairs; Joe was a vocal patriot; and George was the unlucky mediator and the calm voice of reason. After that, things got a little hazy...
The rain had stopped by the time we emerged. Everyone was hungry and so we all did a very bad thing and went to Hungry Jack's. Shameful I know, but I defend it because I wanted to make our guests feel at home. Hungry Jack's in Australia is the same as Burger King everywhere else in the world. But far from adopting some local flavour, the HJ's (in Brisbane at least) have decided to go with US highway memorabilia and US classics on the jukebox. Still, we didn't much care as we tore into the food.
It was great to be able to meet up with George, Joe and Nikki. Their next stop is the Sunshine Coast where they'll jump out of a perfectly good aeroplane for fun. Joe will head home to New York shortly after and George will be staying on until about December. Follow his travelogue to keep up with where he's at.
It had become a nice night so I decided to walk home from the city. Along the way I snapped a couple of pics of the XXXX brewery in Milton. Hopefully Mr. XXXX will forgive that I was drinking VB that night.
He he he! While I've not managed to get my hands on the photos of Chris in his 'purple velvet dress' [please send/post if anyone does!!!], I did manage a wee bit of payback [for his evil photography] this morning...
Last night I was out having some pub grub and 'light' beers w my soon-to-be S-E Asia travel buddy [yay! but that's a whole 'nother blog entry in itself...] and Chris was meeting up w BnA traveloguer George-akaSwagman-Dunn and his brother, Joe. We were possibly going to hook up, but by the time dins was over, our visa applications were filled out, we'd nutted out our itinerary, had moved to the 'quieter' bar, it suddenly filled w a g'zillion blokes and the amount of testosterone in the air started to put a dampener on our night. Besides, we were both driving, it was a school night [not that that's stopped me before], we'd accomplished what we wanted to accomplish, so called it a night. I drove home, watched some crap tele and crashed.
In the morning, I see a txt msg from Chris saying, 'Where r u? Beer is cold'... he he he! It was sent at around 11pm, so I'm thinkin' he's probably had a bit of a big night... So, what's the 'right' thing to do... What would ANY decent human being do in this situation? That's right. Call him.
It's about 7am, so I'm expecting his phone to be switched off, or, him to ignore it. But no, Chris is used to receiving phonecalls from the States for 'directions', I'm sure he'll oblige me. He does! Albeit in a somewhat, gravelly voice! he he he!
I piss myself laughing and say, 'he, he, he, had a big night did we?'
He groaned a bit, muttered something about me being evil and asked if there was a purpose for this phonecall... fully knowing that OF COURSE there wasn't!
In between my laughter, I said, 'no, no reason, just rang to annoy you!'
I asked a few redundant questions, but then said, ' go back to sleep, I'm just being a bitch'!
Fuck it was funny though...
Evil Ging
I was just sitting at my desk here in Brisbane and I received a phone call from Sean Keener in Chicago. He and Jen Leo are wandering the streets, lost. They asked me to look up on Yahoo Maps where they were and how to get where they wanted to go. Within 5 minutes I had the answer and sent them on their way. Through a combination of Voice-Over-IP and free minutes on Sean's mobile he was able to get directions from halway round the world.
Man, I love the internet.
The other week I was watching CNNNN, a comedy program that makes fun of news networks that are slaves to the corporate sponsors that employ them. It sounds lame and I always tell myself that I won't watch it, but if I'm there and it's on, I'll watch it and usually get a few laughs from it.
Had a good chuckle at the segment about George W. Bush coming to Australia. He's only going to be here for 24 hours or so, and the show was urging citizens of Australia to "Shush for Bush" since the only thing he'd be doing on his visit to Oz was sleeping.
All potential noisemakers would be quarantined - Jimmy Barnes, Jeannie Little and someone else were the ones singled out.
While this was comedy, and worth a laugh, real life is often more weird. Take for example the discussion in Federal Parliament today over how the politicians should react when Dubya is presented to the House to give his speech.
Obviously, the government will be under orders to kiss arse. The Opposition leadership urged its members to rise and applaud - a standing ovation. But some members of the Opposition and the Green party aren't so keen. The anti-war sentiment is high and some may not even show up. Then there are statements being bandied about like "respect the office, if not the man".
You can just bet Little Johnnie is sweating it out. He's desparate to make a good impression (not that Dubya will ever be out this way again).
I think in general, the Aussie public leans towards the "couldn't care less" category and it would be useful for the pollies to actually talk about something that matters.
After the opening ceremony to the Rugby World Cup (why do we have to put up with such wank when all we wanna see if the footy?), and the whistle blew to signify game on I knew I'd be adjusting my schedule to take in as much of this tournament as I could. There's something about having the world's best competing for the biggest prize that I can't resist watching. To have them competing in your own backyard is just icing on the cake.
From Australia's opener against Argentina to the two day slaughter of rugby's minnow nations, I watched it all. Kinda happy for the break tonight with no games being played.
After having a good laugh at Chicks Love It, Ging and decided that a few more drinks were in order. We were also meeting a friend of hers, Irish Pedro, at some point in the evening, whenever he arrived from Sydney on the train.
At the bottom of the hill from Central Station on Edward Street there is a club called Underground. It's where Rosie's used to be for anyone that remembers. We talked to the security dude out front for a bit and in hindsight he should have been a clue. He looked about 12 years old.
Downstairs and it was a nightmare. Never before have I felt like "the old guy at the club" and I'm really not that old, but at the Underground I was easily the oldest guy there by about a decade. It was scary stuff. As we were leaving we asked the bouncer why he didn't warn us it was packed with kids and he said he didn't want to insult us - why, because we're so OLD!
We ditched that joint after one drink and racked our brains for another venue. The Victory and the Exchange were both ruled out and Her Majesty's Bar was closing as we arrived. What we did find was an Irish pub in the Wintergarden called O'Malley's.
I was pretty impressed with this place - downstairs, dark and cosy, and it had lots of little rooms and booths. They had a live music area and a band playing but it wasn't like you had to listen to them. Plenty of TV's around so I could watch the Cubbies play but no massive screens to drwon out all other conversation.
Best of all though, they had $6.50 jugs of domestic beer. What a bargain! Ging and I had found our home for the night and Irish Pedro arrived shortly after. We closed the place down and the staff were good humoured enough in trying to get rid of us, but I think they were happy to see us leave.
Last night I met Ging at the Metro Arts to see a play that my old mate was in. I'd never been to this venue before and was very impressed by what I found.
Downstairs at the Verve Bar, you can get very decent food at very decent prices. We thought we'd get an appetizer each and the servings were about enough for a main meal. Not bad for a tenner. You can also take your wine or beer upstairs into the main theatre, which is a wonderful thing, in my opinion.
After reading a so-so review of the play in the paper I went in with low expectations. The theatre was small, maybe 60 seats, and the stage was set with all the blokey things that you would expect in a man's domain - old couch, Sidchrome toolset, beer fridge, lawn mower, keg, old car parts, and a picture of Lady Di (ok, that last one struck me as strange).
The show itself was a riot. It may have been assisted by the couple of beers I had before the show and the couple more I had during, but I laughed almost the whole way through. The all-singing, all-dancing cast of three blokes came out for the first act in tuxes, changed into Hawaiian shirts for the second act and finished in flannel and thongs.
Some highlights for me were the Sons of Germaine Greer calendar, the Oktoberfest beer carton lederhosen, and the Lord of the Thongs was a masterpiece.
After the show, I caught up with Ryan and Ging caught up with her mate Daynan (sp?), who also wrote the play.
Overall, very impressed and would recommend it to anyone up for a laugh.
Was watching one of those awful travel shows, like Getaway, for about 5 minutes last night. Normally I can't stand these shows but this time I saw a URL for a resource I thought might be helpful:
Working Holiday Guru is a site for Aussie travellers listing all the countries that offer working holiday visas and the basic requirements needed and how to go about applying for it. Nice to have all the info in one place.
Alas I've only got about 5 months worth of eligibility left before I cross over into "too old" territory, but for any of you young whippersnappers out there...
I was reading through the paper today while eating lunch, just scanning headlines and dipping in where something caught my eye. I glanced at a photo in the arts section (what the hell was I doing there?) and saw a familiar face.
In a previous lifetime I worked at Pancakes on Broadway with a great group of people. One of those people was Ryan Donovan and it was his face I somehow recognized in the paper. He is part of a production that's playing at the Metro Arts in the city.
Chicks Love It
Answering all your questions about blokes from the backyard to the bedroom. Chicks Love It has everything women want to see about love, and everything men have to learn to even have a chance. All singin', all dancin', all lovin'!
The Sons of Germaine Greer
Dates: 1/10/03 � 25/10/03
Time: 8pm Wednesday - Saturday
Where: The Theatre
Tickets: $35 Dinner and Show/ $20 Adult/ $15 Concession/ $15 Groups/$12 Preview
Bookings: 3221 1527
It had all the makings of a classic. The press all last week had been hyping this game as a David v. Goliath/Cinderella/Rich v. Poor/East v. West/Select cliché here encounter. Oftentimes, games as hyped as this can disappoint. Last night, I for one was not disappointed.
The Sydney City Roosters have multi-millionaires on the board, are based in an affluent area of Sydney, internationals all over the pitch and nearly all of them had played (and won) in last year's grand final.
The "Mountain Men" of Penrith had a loyal fan base, a team of mis-fits and rejects. Even their club chairman said all they had out west was gum leaves.
Rain started falling on Telstra Stadium about a minute before kick-off and didn't let up the entire match. The wet conditions probably prevented it from becoming an attractive game of footy, but it was still a fantastic game to watch. The scores were close and there were plenty of momentum-changing moments/highlights.
The game finished 18-6 to the Panthers and the papers this morning are full of "battlers come good" stories. I think most impartial viewers wanted Penrith to win, being the underdogs, and they put on a performance worthy of winning the big game.
There'll be plenty of sore bodies on both sides of Sydney today though, and not just from hangovers. Some huge hits in the game had several players wondering what day of the week it was and unable to stand on their own for minutes at a time. Referee Bill Harrigan could have sent players to the Blood Bin but that would have left about 3 people on the field.
Be interesting to see how many Panthers players get picked for the upcoming Kangaroo Tour based on last night's performance.
We said goodbye to a family member today. George the cat went to the vet today and did not come home. She'd been off her food for some time and the medication from the last vet visit wasn't doing much good.
It was sad to see her go. She's been more of a part of this household than I have for the past 10 years and it will be strange not to have her being ultra-friendly when she was hungry and bolting up and down the hallways in the mornings.
Australia has something of a reputation for wildlife. It's either cute and cuddly or it'll kill ya. Sometimes both.
When I was living in the States people would sometimes ask me about all the deadly creatures we have down here and how you live with them. After telling them all sorts of lies about how tough we all are down here, I usually come out with the truth that as a suburban kid most of the deadly snakes and spiders I've come across are safely behind glass and taxidermied at the local museum. About the most dangerous thing I've come across is the spastic dance you do after walking through a spider web in the dark at 3am, pissed as a newt. You're more likely to do serious damage to yourself than be poisoned by an arachnid.
However, recently I've run into a couple of the creatures of the backyard. The other day I heard some rustling under the spare bed in my room. I looked over my shoulder in the direction of the noise, but it stopped. A few minutes later there was a louder noise and as I got up to investigate (and bent over to get a closer look) a bloody great lizard jumped out. This thing would have been about as long and as thick as my forearm (I'm a skinny bloke). It was a blue tongue lizard and has been dubbed "Holy Shit!" It wasn't very happy to see me and even less happy to be shoo'ed out the door with my shoe. I got a very good look at why it's called what it is.
The latest encounter was this evening as I turned on the light to visit the downstairs fridge for a beer. The light kinda flickers a bit as it turns on so you're first few steps have that strobe effect. Just as the light came fully on I looked down at my feet and there was a rather large toad checking me out. Old Bufo marinus, or the cane toad, has a storied place in Queensland history, but no place underneath my house. I named this guy "Bloody Hell!" and escorted him out with the aid of a cricket bat. Some will argue that I should have killed it, but I just wasn't in the mood (I hadn't had my beer yet, remember).
Browsing through the weekly free news-mag the Brisbane News, I came across a film festival at the University of Queensland's Schonell Cinema. It's called 50 Minutes from Home and over the course of a week (starting today) they'll show nine new Australian films with a running time of 50 minutes.
It's a project by the Australian Film Commission designed to give experience to up and coming filmakers that's more challenging than a short film and not quite as expensive or full-on as a full length feature film.
And as a bonus, since the films are so short, the Schonell is showing 2 for the price of one.
Not that I make a habit of indulging in celebrity tabloid news, but this piece certainly put a twinkle in my eye...
Lock up yer daughters, Ledger is a single man...
Splitsville for glamour couple
Stalker Ging