Friday, August 31, 2007

And the Award Goes to...

I am awarding a prize for the best academic article title I have seen. So far there is one clear winner and it is: The Hollywood Latina Body as Site of Social Sturggle: Media Constructions of Stardom and Jennifer Lopez's "Cross-over Butt"

(not) myheadspace

I just gave myspace a go, about 500 years late and it freaked me out man! After first struggling to get the right profile (ie not some 21 year old chick in America who has stupid things to say about alcohol that she obviously thinks are really clever and profound) I realised that it is a mindfield of time wasting rambling and roaming. I would be tempted to start at one point, click on one of their friends, and keep clicking on the next person's to see if I was able to end up where I started. Hours and hours of "fun".
The other scary thing about it is that it is a festering virtual swamp for people who do not express themselves well with the written word ( although I am sure they may very well have talent in other areas). I know that punctuation is, like, so middle aged or, like, whatever but, like, you know: use it! And keep the goddam exclamation points to moments where you are exclaiming, otherwise you end up with things like this "we aint got much goin on at the mo!" which tend to jar. And while I am at it, an exclamation point is not a substitute for a space between words. And "haha" is not necessarily a substitute for an exclamation point - it tends to make you sound less funny, strangely enough. "Lol" is never ok, even if you did.
I think I should stay away from Facebook. I shudder to imagine it, because from what I hear it sounds like myspace except that as a substitute for the music, there is high potential for people you went to school with to contact you. Egad! I didn't move halfway across the country for a reason, I moved for about 500 hundred reasons, and most of those reasons are people I met while we were all forced to wear rust and yellow clothes with clarke's shoes.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

I'm Not That Innocent

My attention was caught earlier this morning by an article on the Spears vs Federline case (that makes it sound so serious...). Basically, it listed a bit of vile behaviour from each side, then ended with the good old "who should get custody of the children? Leave your comments below …"
- To digress for a moment, I really hate these news polls - they are pointless. Then they waste another 30 seconds of your time telling you the result. Morning television is particularly bad at this. Whay do I care if 70% of people think so-and so is guilty/should run the country/wastes too much water in the shower???
Back to Brits and Kevo...
There are two comments that have been left and while I share the sentiment with both Amy from Queensland and Carol from North Queensland that neither Kev nor Brits are fit parents, Carol cannot hide what (I an 73% of readers feel) is essentially an unsound mind with her proposed solution to the custody battle:
as much as i love brit and dispise kevin.. i think both kids need custody for even 6 months by someone completely unrelated as neither parents r stable and in a fit state to raise these kids. After 6 months of not having her kids hopefully brit will get in control of her life an treat these kids like kids and not toys.

And under the article are related links including "Britney's shocking sex snaps" I realise now that that "sex snaps" is a noun, rather than "snaps" being a verb, but it did cause me a moment of idle amusement. Think about it. I'm not sure how a shocking sex can snap - maybe it was very cold? or even exactly what it would look like, snapped or whole...

Monday, August 20, 2007

Men Are Like Undies

This post has been co-authored with LG Life's Good (is basically an email convo we had with one another this morning)

Men are like Undies.
The small and very pretty ones (eg Anthony Callea) are quite useless.

the older ones are sometimes the ugliest but perhaps the best for
rainy days

If you don't wash them they will start to smell

if you get the wrong type for you they're a pain in the arse

men are like boxer shorts- a good idea in theory, but perhaps not terrible

and finally, men are like undies: not much good if you are legless

Sunday, August 19, 2007


I poured myself a coffee a little while ago and tasted it black to check if it was strong enough. I thought to myself "actually, this is really quite nice. I think I will drink it black today". Two sips later and back in my bedroom, I realised that I don't like black coffee*

In other news, I braved torrential rain to buy a carton of milk, and came back completely soaked, apart from two dry patches on the back of my legs that my bottom had conveniently sheltered. Not happy Jan. I have a big bottom, and a pair of wet jeans.

I have nothing else to say really, since I have done nothing all day apart form move paragraphs around and italicise a few things. Oh, I checked out the wikipedia entry on musicals, and it was very bad so I feel much better about bagging wiki to people.

* should I be calling it African American coffee? A Zimbabwian aquaintace of mine told me how SHOCKED he was when he arrived in Australia and heard people shouting things like "short black" across crowded, bustling cafeterias...

Reading an email from Sbleby who really is in Outer Mongolia (well maybe she is in Inner Mongolia, but it is still... MONGOLIA!!! for goodness sakes) made me very thoughhtful about physical presence. It was so lovely to read a message from her to me, but it also made me sad because we are not in the same room. It's funny how feeling physically close to someone becomes so important. Email and stuff is really lovely and handy but getting a letter/email/text/phone call is simply not the same, even if you might talk to your friend down the pub and never touch them, it's still better because you are in one another's presence.
And really, I think maybe Walter Benjamin could possibly have been a bit too pleased with himself and while making an interesting point, actually missing the main part of it. Ok, so a copy is not the same as the original but really it is such a minor detail (the way he sees it). I would rather listen to pirated music while sitting next to my friend on a couch than listen to live music while talking to someone on the phone. Who wouldn't?

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Housewife Reds

"You know those days when you get the mean reds?"
Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany's talks about the mean reads being much worse then the blues, and while I think that's a little melodramatic for my situation I thought I'd put it in because I didn't want to use the same title twice, but I do want to talk about my problem that has no name/housewife blues... in reference to an earlier post, I just want to say that I washed a LOT of dishes yesterday, and did not feel particularly fulfilled or womanly.

However, something that did make me feel thus was making an omlette for breakfast using fresh rosemary and chives from the window sill.

Another postscript - the voting forms got filled out. It seems one boy responds to nagging, and the other to peer pressure.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

A Post To Amuse My Sister

I really hate to disappoint people, and since I mentioned to a certain someone that I have to work very hard and have no time to play this week, I feel like I should make up for it by posting something vaguely entertaining to amuse her for a minute or two at work...
so I would like to pass comment on an ad- oh excuse me -an invitation I received on an email list the othr day for something called Theology on Tap:

Theology on Tap is a speaker series for university students and young adults (18-30). It's a casual and relaxed forum where friends from all walks of life gather for *straight talk, hard facts and real answers*...
Now, aside from the fact that unless I am being paid, I generally try to stay as far away from most 18 year olds as possible, this sounds suspiciouly like an invitation to a swingers event. Let's break it down:
"young adults" - emphasis on being of legal age, but not too old and unattractively wrinkly.
"casual and relaxed" - birthday suit is fine in fact
"all walks of life" - We are very ... uh ... open minded
"straight talk" - none of that gay stuff. Even though there will be more than one naked man, they will only touch the naked women, not each other.
"hard facts" - hmmm


I recently had a conversation where the subject of Kyle "Toasterhead" Sandilands surfaced (sort of the way poo floats I guess), and it was suggested that his cockiness is due to the fact that he knows he is the best looking male judge on Idol. A quick ponder confirmed that he doesn't have particularly stiff competition* but I actually think that Marcia - despite being a beautiful woman - is, in fact, someone who would make a better looking man than Toasterhead.

*The other hotly contested competition between judges is which one is the most painful and irritating personality. I think that is possibly a 4-way tie

Saturday, August 11, 2007

The blog entry that has no name

Two things:
1. Name Withheld and Name Forgotten are going on a date tonight. How cute!
2. An academic just trying to be accurate, but ending up sounding very old and un-cool - "In the video for Canned Heat (1999)... he pulses in a knock-kneed stance and executes nifty footwork and snaky gesticulations to match the funky soundtrack" (Dodds, 2001: 51). Again - how cute!

Friday, August 10, 2007

fo' shizzle my nizzle

Here is the best definition and etymology of this phrase that I have managed to find:
"fo shizzle ma nizzle" is a bastardization of "fo' sheezy mah neezy" which is a bastardization of "for sure mah nigga" which is a bastdardization of "I concur with you whole heartedly my African American brother"

And a note on the housewife blues- - I darned a sock today.

...and while I am on this whole housewife thing, I wonder if "The Genre That Has No Name" is a good thesis title...

Housewife Blues

Now that I get to study full time, I am beginning to suffer ever so slightly from what Betty Friedan termed "The problem that has no name"* Ok, so she was talking about housewives who have nothing to do but cook and claen all day, and I do have that teeny little added extra that is called a thesis# but in many ways my life is beginning to resemble the lives of those 1950s American houswives in 'The Feminine Mystique"^. Here's what I mean: I am stuck in the house all day long. On Wednesday, I couldn't get motivated (a key issue noted in the book) so I went up the road for a coffee. Now, admittedly, the coffee was pretty cool - it came in a BOWL and it was HUGE and DELICIOUS but the fact remains that it was 3 days ago, and I am still obsessing about it as one of the most exciting things to have happened to me all week! The other worrying concern is that I am turning distinctly motherly. This might simply be the strange effect of having two (somewhat laddish) male housemates but this morning I put their Enrol to Vote forms on the kitchen table with a note "Hi Kids. I am posting this tonight so please complete. Mum". Is this the kiss of death for my sanity? Stay tuned to find out if the boys' forms get completed, and if I achieve a sense of fulfillment after washing the dishes.

*Actually, just by being able to intellectualise it, I feel a mite better. Maybe it's all about naming the problem... she could have given it a proper name though, instead of this cop out - imagine an explorer discovering a new type of plant, and calling it "the plant that has no name". Similarly: "the gene that is possibly linked to breast cancer and definately linked to memory loss in people over the age of 65 that has no name"

#basically a non-electronic blog that goes for 5 or so years

^Now THAT is a great title. She obviously had a brilliant editor, or we would have been stuck with "The Book That Has No Name"

Monday, August 6, 2007

The House Party

It's amazing how much fun posting a blog seems when there is a deadline looming. But we had a party on the weekend and I feel the need to debrief. Certain events are definately worthy of mention.
First, perseverance points need to be handed out to a few chaps.
1. Simon is determined (I think) to lose the moniker "One Wash Simon" because every time he visits our apartment, he puts a bowl on his head and parades around. I think he wants to be known as "Simon Who Wears a Bowl On His Head" but that's not quite as catchy. Anyway, he did it again the other day. He is fond of the purple bowl.
2. The English guy who attempted to crack onto 4 separate women, one after the other. He finally got someone interested (a fellow Brit, so they must have bonded over Coronation Street or something) so well done. Bonus points.
3.Every second male at this party was called Nathan, so I'll refer to this one as Nathan #3 (why not...). His points are for being so boring that he was able to turn interesting things boring. He is an ex-champion of the weirdest sport ever (some kind of rowing in ancient boats) but he made that sound boring. He talked about the snooze function on his alarm clock for 5 minutes. Now that is perseverance.

A few other details in a nutshell: a kitten was brought up to visit from another apartment, the meatballs didn't get burnt, snaps to Nicola who wore her nightie as a dress, and shout out to the young lady (name withheld) who is now dating the guy she hooked up with, even though she couldn't initially remember his name!!

Faux pas quotes:
"You have great childbearing hips"
"I can't stand thespians who smoke. What do you do?" ... "I'm an actor. And I'm going outside for a cigarette"

And finally, for those of you who suffered the following day, the ingredients of the punch are as follows:
Apricot juice
Sugar Syrup
Triple Sec (stolen from Eve's cocktail party)

Thankyou and goodnight

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Center Stage or Save The Last Dance?

I met someone the other day who told me these films are called "Dancicals" ... but whatever they are called, people seem to love them. I love Center Stage, and am not sot so fond of Save The Last Dance but barside chatter has lead me to believe this is a contentious issue. Some say CS is total sugary crap but I actually think that as a movie it's really well put together, plus I love that final scene of dancing. SLD irritataes me because Julia Stiles can't dance, but I am open to being convinced otherwise...
Apart from these two movies, there are heaps of others like Strictly Ballroom.
I may have a bit more of a rant on this later but I had a big night last night - (I stole a fork, a chip and an olive from a restaurant in Petersham...) and need to get down to some work.