Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Hanging out at TAFE institutes, or, That which I do in my spare time.

So, I realise I haven't blogged in more or less forever, and in my defence that's been because of life. To begin with, due to the fact that my latin class (see my numerous posts titled 'The Week') have all graduated, my life is markedly less entertaining. This fact, combined with the fact that this year I finally finished the HSC (on a side note, A JIHAD ON THE BOARD OF STUDIES) meant that when I did actually do something worth blogging about, I was too busy to actually blog.

Anyway, yesterday was the day of the Art exam, the final exam of a mutual friend of myself and Isy. Isy and I decided that it would be marvellous fun if we were to surprise the aforementioned mutual friend, Angus, by turning up at the end of his exam. The busride back to the city and the time following offered up this conversational gem:

To begin with, Isy and I were discussing our respective post-HSC viewing lists, and I mentioned Torchwood: Miracle Day.
Isy: I heard that its only redeeming feature is all the gay sex.
Angus: Are you talking about Glee?

Of course, he had a point. The gays are the only reason I still watch Glee.

I also took my Brownie for a spin - Reginald now has two pictures sitting on film, waiting to be developed. I've also been working with some 1990s filmstock cameras I found at home. But, of course, the reels aren't done, so no photos until then.

But it'll happen. And when it does, they'll be here along with captions.

Stay classy.

Friday, September 30, 2011

A Night to Remember (Or, That Awkward Moment When the Encores go for Longer than the Second Half)

So yesterday, I had some free tickets to see the Placido Domingo/Katherine Jenkins concert.

It was pleasant. It was a popera concert, and before you freak out too much, it was nothing like a concert of He-Who-Must-Not-Even-Be-Alluded-To-Let-Alone-Named (do yourself a favour and don't click the link).

There was some solid opera (for example it was 50 years to the day since Placido Domingo performed his first aria from Tosca, and then he performed it again and it was all terribly cute), and then there was some less solid opera. For example there was some West-Side Story.

But whatever works to keep the plebeians happy.

And whilst on the subject of keeping the plebeians happy, Katherine Jenkins. She had no fewer than four costume changes during the show. I cannot help but think that her gowns budget must be PHOENOMENAL.

My main beef stems from the encores. The concert had finished, and then Placido Domingo did an encore of some kind of spanish opera thingy. And then Katherine Jenkins sang Time to Say Goodbye, a song which she owns like her prison bitch, might I add. Then the orchestra played an overture. Then, since Placido Domingo was the headlining act, he sang again. But this time it was Besame Mucho - a tango standard. I was somewhat confused by that choice of closing piece.

I wasn't confused for long. Because on came Katherine Jenkins again. And she sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow. After Time to Say Goodbye, you can imagine how much of an anticlimax that was. And then of course the headlining act came back on for another song (we were back to opera by now). I though surely, we're done now.

Lol jks, we weren't. There was another duet, by which time I was expecting a nice rendition of Nessun Dorma to follow to round out the night.

There wasn't. They were actually legit done.

The encores ran for longer than the second half. Surely there's a law against that kind of thing.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Looking around the sitting room.

Speedy disclaimer - you may have to physically click on the photos in order to view them.

There's a little nook between the window and the door, next to one of the sofas. In that nook, there's a chair, and a tuba. Music books are stacked against the wall, and there's some sheet music peeking out of the top of the tuba's bell. A cat is sitting in the open tuba case, looking altogether too much at home. The sofa has its back to a curved bank of windows. Sometimes a sousaphone hides in the space between the sofas and the windows, but not today.



If you look past Sophia being a fool, you can see the chair and some of the music.

The sofa is a mahogany colour which matches the bookcases (from IKEA) housing the encyclopaedia collection. You can see them in the background if you look past Monica being an even bigger fool.



Then there are the bookcases. There are four all up, going from the windows to the miniature alcohol collection. On top of the first, is a big old boom box, as well as a box of badges.

Inside the box of badges are all kinds of cool things, like this shovel:



And all these badges from gigs and rallies my dad went to:



There's a tape collection, filled with all kinds of art rock (anyone for 'Peter and the Wolf' read by David Bowie?), the bookshelves, the atlases and history books, the 1957 Encyclopaedia Britannica and a reproduction of the 1779 original Britannica. Books of the year, Funk and Wagnalls' encyclopaedia, Encyclopaedia Judaica and more art books. A vase from the Chinese government. Various nicknacks from trips overseas.



A set of porcelain bells, also from the Chinese government, stemming from back when dad did tax law consulting work with the World Bank.



Perpendicular to the third bookcase is the other sofa. It faces the other, and between the two is a table adorned with all the books we've been given, but never really read. Here we have (l-r) Monica, Sarah, Elsa and Mersini, reading them because we were in the middle of a power outage. On the far left, you can see part of a quilt, and in the background, the dining room. Taking up the fourth bookcase are the dictionaries. From an 1800s encyclopaedic monster to the bilingual ones in various and numerous languages, as well as (my favourite) the compact Oxford English Dictionary, printed four pages per view, and sold with an accompanying magnifying glass. you can just glimpse them past Mersini.

Then there's the miniature alcohol collection. Dad would bring them back from trips overseas, and some of them are quite unique.





Leaning against the unit housing the miniatures is dad's suitcase, which has sat there for the past eleven years. It still has the dried out pens and business cards which were in it when it was first laid to rest there, once it became apparent that it wasn't going to be used any more.



There's a light above the table. I hung a disco ball from it as a joke, and it stayed as a cutesie fixture.



Next to the tuba, on the other side of the entrance from the front of the house, is the piano, and a wingbacked armchair which is the perfect size for curling up with a decent book. Against the back wall is a violin and it's accoutrements, and next to the sofa is a bassoon and its trappings.

A teddy bear sits on the bottom octave of the piano, overseeing its realm.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Why I am the Best Older Sister EVER

I spent a good hour and a half illegally appropriating photos of Deborah at nationals for Gymnastics.
Then I made a facebook photo album.
Because I am officially THE BEST SISTER IN EXISTENCE.

That and the fact that Deb is a bit of a ninja. Who planks like a boss. A boss whose pre-eminence floats all across the land of Mordor.

You can find that album here.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Bitch went there...

I'm on tumblr now.

Who'd have thunk.

adelatur.tumblr.com

Dogs (or) Why I Have Stabby-Stabby-Murder-Face, but No-One Available to Stab

In general, I have nothing against dogs. They can be pleasantly entertaining in some circumstances, and I'm sure they serve some discernible purpose. Well kind of, anyway.

I only bring this up because I'm currently looking after a dog while some family friends are on holiday. I hate this dog.

It's big and smelly and it jumps on me (something which I don't tolerate from animals which weigh more than about 7 kg and will thus leave a bruise) and it is possibly the least intelligent animal I have ever had the misfortune to meet.

It's four years old and STILL chases its tail. It barks ALL THE TIME. And worst of all, it slobbers. I tolerate drool from babies because I know they aren't harbouring any pathogens from masticating on raw meat and that mysterious clod of something it ate at the park on its walk, but I don't tolerate it from dogs for the reasons set out above.

"So why did you agree to do it in the first place?" I hear you ask.

The answer is that I didn't. The day before she left to take Deb to Perth for gymnastics, we had one of our (incredibly frequent) 'oh and by the way, I've said you're going to [insert verb] for [insert name] for [insert length of time]' conversations.

So now, I'm stuck looking after an idiot animal until saturday. I am unimpressed.

Also, did I mention that it scratches?

Pretensions

Today I had a horrifying thought. Am I pretentious when it comes to music?

Admittedly, when it comes to classical music I'm more a fan of the darker stuff - deaf or nearly so Beethoven, Mozart at the end of his life when he was all dark, Jenkins for reasons I can't really understand - and when it comes to popular music, I'm the same. Metallica, Apocalyptica, Rammstein, Within Temptation, Iron Maiden, Kamelot, even the odd bit of Murderdolls.

Recently however, I've found that I'm liking more and more non metal. I quite like three of Adele's latest songs, I can listen to Christina Perri's Jar of Hearts on an endless loop, and there's one Florence + The Machine song which I love, I just don't know what it's called. Either way, this made me wonder. Am I truly a metalhead, or am I just fooling myself?

Am I just pandering to my pretensions that I'm more hardcore than that? Ought I give up and stop visiting Utopia (which is probably my favourite store after Dymocks Stationery - the cheapest place to get Calligraphy supplies)?

To test this theory, I went into JBHifi and purchased a CD. Lungs by Florence was $10. If I didn't like it, I could always just give it to my sister.

I stuck it in my computer and listened with trepidation.

As it turns out, I didn't like it. Cosmic Love was alright, but not really to my taste. All of the tracks sounded the same, with the same airy voice and electronic instrumentation. I'm not a pretentious ass. I genuinely dislike the majority of popular music. I don't know whether I should be pleased or disappointed. Who cares?

Either way, I'm off to cleanse my mind of all that ranga music by listening to some music which never fails to perk me up: Amour by Rammstein, Parliament of Fools by Skyclad, Sacra by Apocalyptica and what is probably my favourite piece of classical music: The Allegretto (mvt. 2) of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.

Because as it turns out, I really am hardcore like that.

Harry Potter

Today (it was midnight and all) I honoured the end of an era. I went to see Harry Potter 7 part 2. Not only that, I saw it in 3D.
This post will consist of three parts: The end of an era; Why are two dimensions insufficient; Six hours is a long time. I'm refraining from commenting on the plot and all that, because I don't entirely want to be that bitch who is constantly mind-raping you with spoilers. Regardless, I'm pretty darn sure that even if you haven't read the book (which you really ought to), you still know the rudiments of it.

Part the First - The End of an Era.

When HP1 came out, so very long ago, I was but a wee lass of seven [for the record, I use the word 'lass' in the Scots sense of small lady; not in the Adidas clad, going on Mainies and staunching sense]. Now, as the series ends, I am eighteen, having spent a goodly portion of my leisure time either reading the books (over and over), watching the movies or, most enjoyably, cracking up at the atrocious Fanfiction. Because there are some absolute shockers out there.

There were two movie series which defined my age group: the Toy Story trilogy (which I hear is about to do a Douglas Adams and release a fourth) and of course Harry Potter. In the same way I grew up alongside Andy, I grew up alongside Harry and his magical friends. I swooned over Robert Pattinson's pre-Edwardian hotness; I drooled over the 'bad boys' (Tom Felton, Young Tom Riddle and Young Snape); I generally questioned why Ginny, coming from such a lovely family, ended up being such a ho-bag.

But I digress. The point I'm trying to elucidate is the fact that we are at a turning point. The acoutrements of our childhood (like Harry Potter) are finished, to be replaced by whatever is going to define our age bracket now (I'm hoping True Blood). We're getting old.

Part the Second - Why Are Two Dimensions No Longer Sufficient?

It's no longer enough to merely watch a film or TV show. Now we have to have stuff flying at us and gettin' all up in our bidness as it were. I'm probably sounding like the grumpy old conservative that I am (I mean I certainly look the part - I'm wearing a blazer and pearls) but why can't we return to the good old days when the dividing line between entertainment and life was just that. A line. Because entertainment, in 2D was just a linear construct whereas real life was a spatial construct involving specific densities and volumetric displacements and all sorts of other fun geo-physical funsies.

Wow. That was a pretty darn nerdy rant.

Part the Third - Why One Really Ought to Avail Oneself of Internet Banking Facilities When Said Facilities Present Themselves.

I didn't. As a result, in order to be assured of tickets for the midnight showing, I arrived at Westfield Miranda at around 1800 and by 1830 I had four tickets to the midnight showing of HP7pt2, along with special edition Harry Potter glasses shaped 3D glasses.

By 1910 I was joined by Monica and Koby, and eventually (2040) we were joined by Meg - Monica's cousin, and a new addition to my internet exploits. There was nothing to do (and I really do mean nothing), and so we hung out like cool kids, judging the profusion of lads which seemed to be everywhere. We then got incredibly bored so we went on some mainies and staunched some bitchez.

I lie. We didn't.

We went for churros. Because we're hardcore like that.

By about 2130 we were hanging out outside the cinema. Which gradually filled with Shire dwellers, including lots of hipster boys who gave Mon and Koby 'lady boners' (their terminology, not mine), but just weren't my type. Because we all know what my type is...

Anyway. As the Shiries appeared in their varying levels of costuming (there was one girl who looked uncannily like HBC as Bellatrix. Snaps to her), we played Would You Rather. Because we had nothing better to do. Most of it was reasonably middle of the road, with the exception of two which were absolutely inspired. Were I still writing The Week (which I'm not because my life is too boring), they would most definitely be in there.

1) Monica to myself:
Would you rather One Time At Band Camp a Tuba, or verb of choice a goat.

2) Monica and myself to Koby:
Would you rather a dead Nick Jonas with a goat watching (N.B.: this goat has Riley's face), or that same goat with Nick Jonas watching.

As you can see, goats were for some reason quite a prevalent theme. Go figure.

My point in all this is to pre-order your tickets. Because that was six hours I'm never getting back.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!

EVERYBODY!
SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!

What is it with me neglecting to tell you how smashed I'd be if I were playing a drinking game as opposed to blogging?

32 shots. Well under the other two posts, but still remarkably wasted. Go figure.

Hier Kommt Die Semifinal

I’m sitting in a computer room at school, ready to get my Eurocamp on. Here’s hoping I’m not disappointed.

Following on from my recurring theme of the last two posts, I will continue along with Blackie's Eurovision drinking game (for full details, look at the Semifinal 2 post). How euro-trashed will I be??

I’m not sure I’m a fan of Anke’s dress. It’s not enough to warrant a shot, but still. Judith’s is quite nice, but I can’t fathom why Stefan isn’t wearing a tie.

And now Anke has punched Stefan. She does it again in the final... generally when he’s just a bit too much of a tool.

Stefan: voting is so easy even a woman could explain in.
Audience: did he just go there??

Poland
The land of Po. Cute postcard. Painfully so.
Shot for the Gaga/ABBA inspired costumes. The singer looks rather like Santana from Glee. Sings just about as well as her too. Nice use of strobing, but underwhelming use of wind machining. The plumes of smoke help somewhat. A nice Europop song.
8/10
One shot – costumes.

Norway
I didn’t know they had Kenyans in Norway. I’m not being racist, I’m just saying. Apparently the song is partially in Swahili. As you would, when performing at Eurovision. But as those of you who read my comments regarding France’s entry last year will know, I’m quite a fan of afropop. This is no exception. There is however a shot for the gold onesie with butt ruffles.
8.9/10
One shot.

Sam: finally some mid-tempo afro-fusion-pop. Did notice that one of the backup dancers was wearing a tie, I hope it was a full Windsor knot.

Albania
Apparently the singer has crazy fake nails. I'll allocate a pre-emptive shot. Good fog to start with. Another shot for the rest of the outfit. I only wonder if there'll be any wind machining later to capitalise on the floofy bits. Albania traditionally is strong when it comes to the use of wind, but this year is apparently an exception. This lack is compensated for with abundant fire. I'm also a fan of the studded hair. I'm horrified to realise that this is the third song and I'm yet to hear a keychange.
8.5/10
Two shots.

Armenia
This song's called 'Boom Boom'. TITLE SHOT. Interesting set design, shot for the giant boxing glove chair. Shot for the backup dancers in their dressing gowns. I am cracking up at this song, but not in a good way. I'll be giving shots just for the sheer trashiness. The male dancers are also showing a decently Eurovisual amount of chest.
7.25/10
Three shots.

Still no keychange.

Turkey
Shot for the '70s rocker inspired costumes. This should be good. Nice use of fire and fog. Shot for the contortionist chick in the spherical cage. That shit's weird. Not enough strobing if you ask me. Points for the contortionist chick turning into a bird at the end.
8.25/10
Two shots.

Interview Interlude: Portugal are apparently wearing original costumes from '74. And the Albanian lead singer is tiny. I find that without a raging rock band behind her, Georgia's lead singer is even worse. It's a pity, because she brings down the entire performance.

Serbia
I didn't like this one in the final, let's see if I like it more this time... I don't. I do however quite like Nina's dress tonight.
5.5/10
One shot - finally a keychange.

Russia
I'm struck by how much Alexej looks like Ben McKenzie, but in a hotter, European way. I'm also a fan of the fact that he's working the crowd. The backup dancers are also quite cute, despite the fact that their costumes warrant 30 mLs of spirits. The lyrics are a bit odd too: "Put my mind in a dirty zone". Really? Clearly that made more sense in Russian. And call me an elitist, but I liked the rehearsed and regimented bow at the end. 9.5/10
Two shots - keychange, and what a great one it was.

Switzerland
I liked this postcard on the final, but not the song. Will I change my mind? I like the Ukelele, but not her singing. It's all so painfully twee.
5/10
A shot to ease the pain.

Georgia
Shot for the costumes. Her hair is bigger tonight than in the final. And already, she's working the wind machine in true Georgian style. I still don't understand the purpose of the rap though. WHY WOULD YOU EVEN PUT IT IN THERE? The strobing is also a touch underwhelming. Pity.
7.5/10 - I'd give more if she could sing better.
One shot.

A couple of Lordi jokes later, here's Finland.
Sam: If you liked Lordi... turn off your TV now.

Finland
Again, I love the postcard. Yay for classical music.
The song's called 'Da Da Dam'. TITLE SHOT!! This singer is painfully adorable. He's just so cutely huggable. This is a ballad that I actually like. The only issue is that it's not poppy enough for Eurovision. That having been said, I'm still tempted to pull out a lighter and do a Cold Chisel. So adorable.
8.75/10
Two shots - downbeat entry.

Malta
I like the postcard. Probs because I <3 opera.
Well. The backup dancers are very Eurovision with their sleeveless shirts. The lead singer is similarly tanned into oblivion in a very Eurovisual manner. The whole song is however a bit too... irritatingly camp. Decently rousing keychange, but otherwise...
6/10
One shot.

San Marino
Another ballad. From the first chord, I know that despite all the fog flowing over the stag, I'm going to hate this song because it's crap. She's not a very good singer, it's an atrocious song.
<5/10
Shot to erase the memory.

Croatia
According to the hosts [as in Sam and Julia, not Anke, Judith and Stefan], this is one for the drinking games. It's definitely bad enough. I'm not understanding the purpose of the creepy DJ. He's kind of overkill. I'm rather impressed by the quickchange artistry. Pity it's a crap song. A good, rousing keychange, but still. So many points for the changing.
7/10
Two shots - the quickchanging totally distracted from the song.

Iceland
I'm loving the Barbershop aesthetics. And again, I appreciate the fact that they're not wanking it up on a grand piano. They're just honky-tonking along on an upright. I also liked the harmonies at the end.
8/10
One shot - keychange.

Hungary
Sam: No, that's not Michael Bolton.
This is a delightfully boppy song, she's actually quite good. I still feel that the costumes are almost libatively ABBA. And a touch scanty. But I still very much like the LED lit backup dancers. That's Eurovision. I feel that this song could have really benefited from some wind machining, but it just wasn't there. Pity.
8.5/10
Two shots - costume and keychange.

Portugal
The costumes are visibly '74, although why they have a guy dressed up as Fidel Castro is well beyond me. I almost feel as if this song is from some Playschool-esque programme. It feels a touch... infantile. The only thing keeping them above 5/10 is the Castro lookalike. He jives me much jollies.
6/10
Two shots - costume and national dress (vintage clothing from the '70s qualifies in my mind).

Lithuania
An operatic ballad. Not ever a good fusion idea. Here goes nothing... I don't like her voice. Maybe it's just me, but she's a bit pitchy. Shot for the ridiculous dress train. There's good fog, but no wind. Her hair (and dress) could really capitalise on it, but it just isn't there. And I still don't understand the sign language in a SONG CONTEST. So bland.
6/10
One shot.

Azerbaijan
I'm going to allocate five shots for how nauseating this was, and then fast forward through it. <5/10
Five shots.

That was painful.
Sam: it's all a bit to Graduate for me.

And now for Greece.
Julia: The Greeks combine classical music, folk music and rap.
Sam: Finally.

Greece
Now this will be Eurovisual. I'm ready for partially shirtless men. What's this? They're wearing shirts. At least they're breakdancing as compensation. The rap guy soinds like he should be singing backup in Cannibal Corpse, but the classical guy is a cutie. There's a shot for the LUDICROUSLY Greek background image. The Greek dancing interlude is also cracking me up no end. And now the backup dancers are divested of their jackets and dancing among pillars of fire. Cool.
9/10
One shot.

Interview Interlude: in which the singers talk rapidly at the SBS cameras in their native languages. I swoon.

So according to me, the qualifying nations are as follows, in order of performance:
Poland
Norway
Albania
Turkey
Russia
Georgia
Finland
Iceland
Hungary
Greece

I'm not going to comment on the Drumline entertainment. They didn't even march in step. They ought to be ashamed of themselves.

I must say that Jon Ola Sand has a far less entertaining name than last year's lord god king of Eurovision, Svante.

So... the nations which Europe has chosen for qualification are as follows:
Serbia - 0 for 1
Lithuania - 0 for 2
Greece - 1 for 2
Azerbaijan - 1 for 3
Georgia - 2 for 3
Switzerland - 2 for 4
Hungary - 3 for 4
Finland - 4 for 4
Russia - 5 for 4
Iceland - 6 for 4

Same accuracy as the other semi.

I'd just like to have a quick final private rant regarding this year's Eurovision.

WHERE WERE THE WIND MACHINES? THIS IS EUROVISION. I EXPECT GALE FORCE WINDS IN EVERY NUMBER. I AM SO UNIMPRESSED WITH THE CALIBRE OF THIS YEAR'S WIND MACHINING.
So unimpressed.

Monday, May 16, 2011

DER EUROVISION FINAL!!!!

Here's the final, following the same drinking game as the last post, with a quick addition: when a nation gives it's top 3 points allocations to countries within it's region, you drink a geopolitics shot. Enjoy, my drunken dearies.

Now would also be a good time to point out that my scoring system is logarithmic rather than linear. It'll come in handy later.

This is the first time I’ve seen the starting credits. They’re cool. And apparently they somehow got 36 000 people into the stadium. I am impressed. As usual, us aussies get a shout out from the hosts. As usual, I’m feeling the love.

And now, since Lena is once again germany’s entry, the hosts are going to give us their rendition of Satellite. That is some weird shiznit right there. That having been said, it’s a cute arrangememnt. And the double bass player is a bit of a hottie. And I’m a fan of the whole big band thing. As well as the 43 Lena lookalikes. And now, Lena is apparently standing on a double bass whilst singing. Respect.

I must say that the video showing the football stadium to euro-temple was pretty darn cool. And now onto the videos.

Finland
I’m in awe of this postcard. The guy took his double bass ON THE BUS.
The song’s called ‘Da da dam’. Shot. He’s a cutie though. And it’s quite an adorable song. I think I just love his accent a little. Oh to be back in Finland. The problem is that it’s a bit too meaningful, and not quite Europop enough. I love it, but will Europe?
8.75/10
One shot.

Bosnia and Herzegovina
He's still old. And the song is still kind of weird. I'm still not sold, but I'm liking it slightly more than before. It's kind of cute in a sadly postcommunist way. I'm also thinking I might have hallucinated one of last night's keychanges.
7/10
One shot - keychange.

Denmark
Another unnecessary shot yesterday - it's the band which has a stupid name. I actually really like this song. They're so adorably Scandiwegian. Respect for the random giant balloon, but once again, it's a shot for the backless shirt on the lead singer.
9/10
Two shots - keychange.

Lithuania
An operatic ballad. This should be interesting. A lovely dress, but not quite enough to merit a shot. good use of fog, bad use of a wind machine, in that there wasn't any. Her hair and dress are just crying out for it. I'm not quite understanding the point of the sign language. Clearly it's for all the deaf people who are watching a SONG CONTEST. The keychange was a bit... forced.
7/10
Two shots - downbeat entry.

Hungary
She's an old one. Shot for the ABBA inspired costumes. Decent seizure inducement, underwhelming male dancers. It's an alright song overall, and I'm muchly a fan of the use of spotlights. I'm surprised there wasn't a keychange, but the LED clothing more than makes up for it.
8.5/10
One shot.

Interview interlude - wow. Russia is a BABE.

Ireland
John and Edward (Jedward from hereonin) have a brother named Kevin. According to Sam, he's the Fredo of the family. Awkies for him.
Instant double shot for the hair and the outfits. Respect for going with it when one of them dropped his mike stand. Very profesh. Once again, loving the bit when they marched. Very cute.
8.25/10
Three shots - keychange.

Sam: This is what happens when eighteen year old boys drink red cordial.

Sweden
I still love the viking postcard.
Well. They've notched it up since the semi. There are more specfx. I'm still not a fan of the whole glove thing, although the semi-shirtless male dancers are more than Eurovision enough to compensate. I just feel that the lights didn't strobe enough.
8.25/10
Two shots - keychange, that bloody glove.

Estonia
Adorable as this song is, I can't like it because it just isn't trashy enough. I like it as a song, but not as an example of europop.
7.5/10 - I marked it down because it wasn't trashy. Otherwise, 9/10
Still no shots.

Greece
I'm watching Greece, and yet I can see no chest hair. I can't even see any chest. WHAT IS THIS? The rapper sounds as if he should be in some heavy metal version of Linkin Park. Despite the lack of open shirts, I'm liking the song. Probably for the metallic undertones. It's very dark by Greek standards, but there's great use of pyrotechnics. I will however need to allocate a shot to the ridiculous backdrop.
8.25/10
One shot.

Russia
Cool postcard.
Apparently the singer just won dancing with the stars on ice... and on land. Kudos to him. And he's a bit of a HOTTIE. There's a shot for what the breakdancers are wearing. I like it though, partially because he's the first act to actually work the crowd. And I'm impressed by the writing on the jackets. The song could have used a keychange.
8.75/10
One shot.

France
I'm looking forward to this. He's a babe who sings opera. I've been looking forward to this ever since I saw the little clip of him in the Big Five montage. So far I love the music, and his voice... and him in general. The hair's a touch odd, but otherwise this is some great shit. There's good use of fog, and have I mentioned that he's amazingly beautiful? And there's pyrotechnics.
10/10 - it'll never win, and I don't care if it wasn't even clichét enough to warrant a shot. I'm in love.

Italy
This is Italy's first performance in 14 years. That's a while. And now I can see why. There's a creepy dude playing a clear perspex piano. And it's slow jazz, which I also hate. And the trumpet player has a bun. And he's a dude. DISLIKE. I haven't actively hated a song this much since last year.
<5/10
One shot - we need to erase the memory of just how bad that was.

Interview interlude - France's entry is the youngest tenor in the world. AND HE'S BEAUTIFUL.

Switzerland
Cute postcard. I liked the fact that they had 'Feel your heart beat' in all four main languages.
It's a pity, because that was the last thing I liked about Switzerland.
<5/10
No shots.

UK
Shot for the giant LCD portraits. Shot for the shiny outfits. Points for harmonising. Points lost for the solos. Points for the amount of chest showing - Britain has really put some eurotrash into it this time. I can't help but feel however that the only reason the black guy is there is because he's muscly and thus adds some street cred.
8.25/10
Two shots.

Moldova
They've supported Korn and the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. It shows.
I can't help but realise that the guitar players aren't wearing hats tonight. That won't stop me from giving two shots immediately for outfit. This song is like a technicolour seizure, replete with some random chick on a unicycle. I still, for some ridiculous reason, still find that I like it.
7.5/10
Three shots - that monocle really creeps me out.

Germany
This postcard is a behind-the-scenes thing looking at the hosts. Muy adorable.
Lena's backup dancers look like something you'd ezpect in a Katy Perry clip. It's weird. Lena still sounds like Missy Higgins, but if anything, she is now too seasoned a performer. She's stopped being adorable. And the harem pants were a mistake. One shot for the outfit, one for the unitard-clad dancers. None for changing key.
6/10
Two shots.

Romania
I like the postcard of the graffiti artists.
This song seems cool. The pianist is nicely insane, and there's some good subtle sparkling. The women are unfortunately not wearing enough clothing. This is then offset by the fact that they're trumpeting. Shot for the tartan on the back of the men's vests. Decent light show, good fire to finish.
7.25/10
Two shots - keychange.

Austria
I am unmoved in my opinion. She's pleasantly sparkly, but otherwise... The fog and the sparkles are all that's keeping her above 5/10.
6/10
A shot to erase the memory of how boring that was.

Azerbaijan
Immediate shot for the quasi-grecian costumes. Their outfits may be white, but the song is incredibly beige. I approve of the fireworks shower, but this is overwhelmingly unimpressive. And the guy weirds me out.
5/10
One shot.

Slovenia
Another immediate shot for outfit. Honestly, what was she thinking? I'm also not liking the power balladry - this is another white girl trying to be Beyonce, whom I already dislike. Rousing keychange, and passable wind machining towards the end.
7/10
Two shots.

Iceland
Cutely barbershop. I like the fact that they aren't wanking it up on a grand piano. I also like the story of the band's formation. Nothing like Eurovision to give you the warm fuzzies. Points for the backdrop.
8/10
One shot - keychange.

Spain
I'm ready for another shocker. Will I be pleasantly surprised? Probably not. They're wearing white/lurid pink. SHOT! All I can say is that this song is like Spanish daytime TV in song form. If not for the handheld pyrotechnics, this would be a total loss.
5/10
Two shots - keychange.

Ukraine
I am struck bu how much the singer reminds me of Teylor Swift. I still can't get over the weirdness of the costumes, but they're cool nonetheless. And the sand art... wow. I also love the use of wind and fog.
8.5/10
Two shots - keychange.

Serbia
They're very sixties. Libatively so. I, unlike Sam and Julia, am not feeling the love. I like the fact that the backdrop is nauseatingly bright and swirly, but that's it.
5/10
Two shots - keychange.

Georgia
This lot look adorably dark. They sound adorably dark too. The costumes warrant a shot, but the wind machining is on par with Georgia's usual good capitalisation thereof. My only criticisms are: they're trying to hard, the girl kind of sucks, and there's a random guy rapping. The only people who get away with that kind of thing are Linkin Park. I do however like all the crazy strobing and the fireworks at the end.
8.5/10
Two shots - keychange.

So, at the end of another final, the placings according to me are as follows:
1 - France
2 - Denmark
3 - Finland, Russia
4 - Georgia, Hungary, Ukraine
5 - Greece, Ireland, Sweden, The UK
6 - Iceland
7 - Estonia, Moldova
8 - Romania
9 - Bosnia & Herzegovina, Lithuania, Slovenia
10 - Austria, Germany
11 - Azerbaijan, Serbia, Spain
12 - Italy, Switzerland

Now we drink a shot for the new dress Anke is wearing. Apparently Anke is a professional comedienne. I'm loving all the Berlin wall jokes.

And now onto the dangerous territory of politics shots. Prepare your glasses, this could get ugly.

Russia: Greece 8; Ukraine 10; Azerbaijan 12.

We drink a shot because the UK are still on a duck.

Bulgaria: Ukraine 8; Greece 10; UK 12.
The Netherlands: Bosnia & Herzegovina 8; Sweden 10; Denmark 12.
Italy: [we drink a shot for what the presenter is wearing] Moldova 8; UK 10; Romania 12.

What is this? The UK are actually leading???

Cyprus: Azerbaijan 8; Sweden 10; Greece 12.

Well, that was foreseen. I don't see why people are bothering to boo, but still. We all knew that was going to happen. Either way, we drink a shot!

Ukraine: Russia 8; Azerbaijan 10; Georgia 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Finland: Iceland 8; Ireland 10, Hungary 12.

Finland, Switzerland and Spain are all still sitting on a duck. That's a pity with regard to Finland.

Norway: [ooh, look! It's that chick who hosted last year.] Iceland 8; Sweden 10; Finland 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Armenia: Russia 8; Georgia 10; Ukraine 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

FYR Macedonia: Serbia 8; Slovenia 10; Bosnia & Herzegovina 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Switzerland is still on a duck. Sucks to be them.

Iceland: Azerbaijan 8; Finland 10; Denmark 12.
Slovenia [which half the time the hosts refer to as Slovakia]: Ireland 8; Sweden 10; Ukraine 12.

I'm yet to drink an Ireland shot. This is odd.

UK: Moldova 8; Switzerland 10; Ireland 12.

LUCK OF THE IRISH!! It seems I spoke too soon.

Denmark: Germany 8; Sweden 10; Ireland 12.

LUCK OF THE IRISH!!

Austria: Azerbaijan 8; Germany 10 [duhh]; Bosnia & Herzegovina 12.
Poland: Azerbaijan 8; Italy 10; Lithuania 12.

Spain, on 7, is the only country still on single digits. Of course they WERE crap...

Sweden [the presenter's wearing an Eric Saade shirt. POLITICS SHOT!!]: Bosnia & Herzegovina 8; Denmark 10; Ireland 12.

LUCK OF THE IRISH!!

San Marino [presenter singing? ANAESTHETIC SHOT!!]: Greece 8; Azerbaijan 10; Italy 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!! (San Marino being only a principality, giving the 12 to Italy counts as geopoliticking.)
At this point, there's only one point between Sweden and Azerbaijan. In previous years, the winner was clearly visible by this stage in the proceedings. Go figure.

Germany: Ireland 8; Greece 10; Austria 12 [duhh].
Azerbaijan [Shot for what the presenter's wearing]: Greece 8; Georgia 10; Ukraine 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Slovenia [More presenter singing. Unnecessary. At least he's better than the guy from San Marino]: Denmark 8; Serbia 10; Bosnia & Herzegovina 12.
I liked his octopus reference. Lols abound.
Turkey: Georgia 8; Bosnia & Herzegovina 10; Azerbaijan 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Spain is STILL on single digits. There are STILL only two points between Azerbaijan and Sweden.

Switzerland: Germany 8; Iceland 10; Bosnia & Herzegovina 12.
Greece [who will they vote for now that Cyprus is out of the running?]: Georgia 8; Italy 10; France 12. HUZZAH!!
Georgia: Azerbaijan 8; Ukraine 10; Lithuania 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

France [They aren't using English. Snap. Good thing I like hot guys who speak French. POLITICS SHOT!!]: Italy 8; Sweden 10; Spain 12. Really? Really??
Serbia: Hungary 8; Slovenia 10; Bosnia & Herzegovina 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Croatia: Serbia 8; Azerbaijan 10; Slovenia 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Belarus: Germany 8; Ukraine 10; Georgia 12.
Romania: Greece 8; Azerbaijan 10; Moldova 12.
Albania: Azerbaijan 8; Greece 10; Italy 12.
Malta: Ireland 8; Italy 10 [duhh]; Azerbaijan 12.
Portugal: Azerbaijan 8; Italy 10; Spain 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!! (With Spain being the only neighbour Portugal has, this warrants alcoholic recognition)

Azerbaijan is starting to really break away.

Hungary: Greece 8; Sweden 10; Iceland 12.
Lithuania: Azerbaijan 8; Italy 10; Georgia 12.
Bosnia & Herzegovina: Azerbaijan 8; Serbia 10; Slovenia 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Ireland [loving the prosthetic Jedward hair]: Moldova 8; Lithuania 10; Denmark 12.

SHOT FOR THE UK GETTING NOTHING FROM THEIR ONLY REAL EUROVISUAL NEIGHBOUR!!

Spain: Romania 8; France 10; Italy 12.
Israel: Russia 8; Denmark 10; Sweden 12.
Estonia: Azerbaijan 8; Denmark 10; Sweden 12.

I can't help but realise that Sam and Julia aren't feeling the love for Azerbaijan either. They weren't that good.

Moldova: Ukraine 8; Azerbaijan 10; Romania 12.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!!

Azerbaijan have now won to a mathematical certainty. But it's not by the 150+ points margins of the last few winners.

Belgium: Greece 8; Romania 10; France 12. Hurrah. He's such a cutie.

GEOPOLITICAL SHOT!! (Belgium really doesn't have that many neighbours)

Latvia: Germany 8; Ireland 10; Italy 12.

Well that's Eurovision. Azerbaijan won, which shits me, but at least with the 62 shots I theoretically drank, I was way too wasted [pronounced: dead as a result of alcohol poisoning] to care. Stay tuned for Semifinal 1.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

SHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTS!!!

EVERYBODY! SHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTSSHOTS!!

I just realised I neglected to tell you how smashed I would theorietcally be.

51 shots.

I'd have passed out somewhere in the middle of Belgium's entry.

Now that's Eurotrashy.

Eurovision 2

Those of you who are concentrating will see that I didn't actually post something from the first Eurovision final. This is because I was at a school function that night. But fear not, I'll post it some time this week. Once I actually watch the show.

This year, as a bit of a side note, I'll be referencing a Eurovision drinking game developed by Andrew Blackie of UNSW. It goes as follows.

Whenever the costume overwhelms the song, you take a shot.
Whenever there's ridiculous national dress, you take a shot.
Whenever a song has a stupid title, you take a shot.
Whenever anyone says the word 'baby', you take a shot.
Whenever there's a keychange, you take a shot.
If ever an entry tries to be serious by using an actual instrument, you take a shot.
Whenever a song gets political, you take a shot.
When Cyprus and Greece are overtly buddy-buddy, you take a shot.
When the Irish win, you take a shot.
When the UK come dead last, you take a shot.

I'll also be giving my ratings out of 10. These don't nevessarily reflect quality of song, the majority of the points are for eurotrashiness; use of fire, fig and wind; and most importantly, shock value. Because this is Eurovision, after all.

So here we go: the second semifinal.

Bosnia and Herzegovina
For a show opener, this was boring. I honestly cannot remember anything interesting about it, apart from the fact that they had a string bass on stage. They did have two keychanges though.
7/10
Two shots.

Austria
All I can think is that the lead singer wishes she was Beyonce. This isn't working for me, mainly because I rather dislike Beyonce. I'm also not a fan of power ballads when they aren't sung by 1980s british rockers. I do however approve of how sparkly her dress is. Swarovski crystals. Shiny. The keychange was well executed, but otherwise, the song was just a bit... meh.
7/10
One shot.

The Netherlands
The lead singer is wearing a textured white suit. He's only mildly classier than Elvis.His sideburns are also quite Presley-esque. And watching him, I can't help but think that he and the bassist have a bit of courtly man-love going on. But dear god, the song's bland.
6/10
One shot - costume.

Belgium
I'm thoroughly impressed by the a capella action going on here. I just can't seem to understand why the ladies are wearing one glove each. They aren't Michael Jackson. Or if they are, that's some trippy shit. And why is that guy, who is clearly over 30, wearing skinny jeans? And they said 'baby' at least sixteen times (and I may have missed a few). I mean the song's called 'With love baby', but still.
8.5/10
Seventeen shots - sixteen for saying the word 'baby', one for costume.
SEVENTEEN SHOTS!!!

Slovenia
They have a piano and a slow drummer - it's a downbeat entry. There is very impressive use of a wind machine - at last, someone's actually getting into the Eurovision spirit. The costumes are a bit ridiculous, although well designed for use in conjunction with a wind machine. It's a pity the singers are flat. There are, however, pyrotechnics, so there's some points there. Probably the eurotrashiest song yet.
Quick side note: BOOOOOOOBS. Honestly ladies. Keep them in your dresses.
8.25/10
Two shots - attempting to be serious, costume.

Ukraine
Cute postcard.
I'm very impressed by the sand art. It's like freaky amazing. But what's with the costume? The Ukraine have, as always, really outdone themselves. Feathers and lurid pleather. Unfortunately, not very good use of wind machines, which is odd for the Ukraine. Usually they capitalise well on such things. The use of a fog machine does however compensate somewhat.
8.75/10
One shot - costume.

Moldova
I'm liking the song. Not because it's good, but because it's so trashy that I can't help but love it. It's almost as good as the song 'Super DJ' by Russian pop-techno group 'Disco Accident'. But the costumes? This is the first double shot for costumes. Eek. There is however impressive usage of seizure inducing lights. I also quite like their custom brass instruments. Oh but wait, there's a monocle. That's another shot in itself.
8.75/10 (for the trashy factor)
Three shots - Costume, national dress, monocle.

Sweden
I like the postcard. The marching band in me just loves footage of parades. I also have a bit of a thing for vikings. Just saying...
Well. Male backup dancers. Now that's Eurovision. I'm not sure about the finished product though. I mean the microphone glove on the lead singer? It's just a bit... REALLY INCREDIBLY HOMOSEXUAL (I couldn't think of a more PC way of saying that). He can dance, though. And the lights could cause the odd seizure.
8.25/10
Two shots - one for costume, one for the very well executed keychange.

Cyprus
I hear from the voice over that there's going to be 'traditional instruments'. That's a shot. There's fog. Cool. There's a chick in a ballgown. With crazy hair. There's another shot. Great music, though. Nice harmonies. Oh wait... Why is that chick now screaming and practising hammerthrow? And I'm also put off slightly by the whole leaning from side to side thing in the verses. Combined with the background art also moving from side to side, I feel as if I'm on a pitching ship. Good dance though.
9/10
Two shots - reasons set out above.

Bulgaria
I feel as if they mugged a young David Bowie for these costumes. They're also a bit... white. The costumes that is. They could really benefit from a wind machine. Good use of fire, however.
8/10
Two shots - keychange, costume.

FYP Macedonia
This song is incredibly beige. And that girl in the backup dancers is camera-whoring WAY too much. If ever there was a song which was just SCREAMING for a modulation, it was this one, but the key stays the same throughout. UNIMPRESSED.
6.75/10
One shot - national dress.

Israel
A transsexual. There's a shot. The song's called 'Ding Dong'. There's a shot. Moving on, the singers are a bit aurally mushy (crap diction), and they're all singing a bit too high for their voice types. The hebrew/english fusion is a bit confusing, but that's because I keep translating in my head. Decently rousing keychange, but the lights could have been more strobe-y. And there could have been a wind machine.
7.5/10
Three shots - another for the fact that the dress makes the singer look a bit like a lizard.

Slovenia
Her voice is passable, but the dominatrix costume is a bit... unnecessary. There's a shot in those boots alone. Second use of a wind machine tonight, but under-capitalised.
7.5/10
One shot.

Romania
Very Human Nature. They're adorable, well dressed, and have a good keychange. And they're also really bland and unmemorable. Pity.
7/10
One shot.

Estonia
Cute postcard. Cute costume. Cute song, with nice use of a snare drum. I'm also liking the unison breakdancing. The buildings which form the backdrop actually look like downtown Tallin. It's a good pop song, but not really that Eurovision.
7.75/10
NO SHOTS. THIS IS WHY IT'S NOT THAT EUROVISION. IT'S COMPLETELY UN-CLICHÉD.

Belarus
'I Love Belarus'. Nice song title. Amazing pyrotechnics. Probably the best I've ever seen in Eurovision. Shot for the overtly political message. That's not going to stop me from downloading it and then sticing it on my ipod. Shot for the costumes. Shot for the amazingly well integrated keychange. AND THEN SHOT FOR THE EVEN BETTER ONE RIGHT AFTER IT!!! RESPECT!!
9.25/10
Four shots.

Latvia
Weird use of swivel stools. Passable wind machining, but not enough. And that weird chiffon stuff is just odd. As is the whole red/white/black colour scheme. And the falsetto? Really? Ick.
6.25/10 - it was that unmemorable.
One shot - costume.

Denmark
Shot for the song title. A Friend in London? Honestly. Shot for their hair. They're adorable enough as their quasi-boyband, but the lights aren't seizure inducing enough. Shot for the backless shirt on the lead singer. There really is no excuse.
8.75/10
Three shots.

Ireland
According to the voice overs, these guys are the second favourites to win the contest. We'll see. Shot for the Gaga appropriated costumes. Shot for the hair. Good use of fog machines. I also take back everythign I said before about Sweden. They were NOWHERE NEAR as overwhelmingly gay as this veritable fount of gay is turning out to be. BRAINSPLODE.
9/10
Three shots - there was a decent keychange.

And now, according to the creepy host guy, "fifteen minutes remain for woting"

So, according to my scores, the countries advancing to the final are, in order of appearance:
Belgium
Slovenia
Ukraine
Moldova
Sweden
Cyprus
Bulgaria
Belarus
Denmark
Ireland

Let's see how many I got correct.

But first, back to the hopelessness of that creepy host guy.

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Five. Five. Four." etc.

Host lady: Name two things that don't go together.
Creepy host guy: England and penalty shootouts. Germans and humour. Women and Technology.
Crowd: Did he just go there???

But anyway, now for my impressions of the Big Five, having seen a couple of seconds of their clips.

Spain: What on EARTH were they thinking? Yet another fail.

France: What a sex bomb. He's all brooding and operatic. YAY!!

Italy: I'm shaking my head in disappointment. Honestly.

UK: Muscly boy band. Like the Backstreet Boys, but less wimpy looking. This should be informative.

Germany: Weird. That's all I have to say. Weird.

And now the qualification according to Europe.
Estonia - that's 0 for 1 (I'll be using US football rankings here. It's easier.)
Romania - 0 for 2
Moldova - 1 for 2
Ireland - 2 for 2, and we do another shot
Bosnia & Herzegovina - 2 for 3
Denmark - 3 for 3
Austria - 3 for 4
Ukraine - 4 for 4
Slovenia - 5 for 4
Sweden - 6 for 4

That's an improvement on last year - back then I was only 4 for 6.

Quote from Julia (re: Sweden): Men holding each other in man love.
Quote from me (re: Sweden): We thought they were gay, but then we saw Ireland.

Another side note, cameraman 4 is so fired. He's been giving us closeups before it's announced. Sucks to be him :)

Stay tuned for the final, as well as semi 1 when I get around to watching it.
Until then...

Saturday, April 23, 2011

The Wonders of the Book of Face



When I happened to see this on the sidebar of Sarah's home screen, I knew I had to immediately take a screen shot, crop it in paint, and then stick it on my facebook wall.
And then I decided to blog it for good measure. Such fun.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Deborahfail

I'm at MLC at the moment jacking their student internet on Deb's laptop because she has gymnastics at the moment. She didn't want to catch the train on her own, so I accompanied her like the lovely sister I am.

A few minutes ago, whilst practicing her beam dismounts, she managed to overbalance forward and land on her face. Which prompted me to speak the following quote from that brilliant movie 'Fired Up'

Oh My God, you broke her face. Almost in half. Where are we going to find another one of those this late in the day?

Such fun.

Although now she's developing a black eye, so that should be heaps awkies for me on the train with her.

JewRevue - The Aftermath

Those of you who were anywhere near my facebook profile in the past week and a bit will be more than aware of the fact that JewRevue 2011 (The Lambshank Redemption) just finished its run of of performances.

Gosh it was fun. Being only in high school I had to be content with merely writing scripts and doing front of house, but even so, it was terribly enjoyable. To re-affirm what I've taken to saying reasonably often: Such fun.

In a later post, I'm going to go through the program etc, in a manner akin to my Eurovision rundowns, but for now, I'm going to just go with a quick summary of the afterparty. And what an afterparty it was.

Hosted by Tom, one of the voiceover guys, we were told to enter via the side entrance to his house. Understandable, seeing as his parents were home. So Sarah and I walk down the driveway, and guess what he has in his front yard.

Have you guessed yet?

A TENNIS COURT.

Oh yes. Welcome to Vaucluse. Anyway. We then descend the sandstone staircase that is the 'side entrance', walking past the billiards room (more on that later), to reach the backyard. Now let's take a moment to let our minds boggle. In his backyard, there is a pool on a cliff, overlooking THE HARBOUR BRIDGE. I MEAN HOLY EXPLETIVES.

Anywho. We then enter the kitchen/party central, wherein we see a liquor cabinet so expansive and extensive that it was actually ridiculous, and a television so large that I initially mistook it for a feature wall. But no. It was a television. I know.

And now, in the bent of the Marching Band Blog which I write, we have a Fun Fact!: Tequila tastes remarkably like horseradish. Thus making Tequila and orange juice taste remarkably like horseradish and orange juice. There you go.

And now onto the billiards room mentioned above. The table was roughly two by five metres. I shit you not. It was like pool on steroids. But stemming from that, I have discovered that watching mildly intoxicated uni students play pool (or rather fail thereat) is incredibly entertaining. Such fun.

I also discovered that I am reasonably atrocious at pool. I should probably stick to activities which merely involve hitting people with sticks.

Anyway, come 0500, my phone alarm goes off, and Sarah and I realise that perhaps we ought to jolly on home lest mum awaken before we get there. Because that would be mildly awkies.

So we sat in the car, blasting Ke$ha (because we;re just that classy) in a desperate attempt to not go into microsleeps and thus DIE A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL AND FIERY DEATH, and somehow made it home by quarter to six. And then proceeded to sleep until 1330.

Best. Afterparty. EVER.

I'm so pumped for the Revunion.

Friday, April 1, 2011

Shenannigans in Lewisham

Today, I wasted a perfectly good triple free.

I needed to drop off the audition video I made for spec (which I was up until 1 am burning to a disk. It's harder than you'd think); so the moment recess started, I vamoosed from the school grounds to catch a train to Lewisham via Redfern, because for whatever ridiculous reason, The Arts Unit is based at Lewisham Public School. As one would.

Regardless. After traversing the inner west for a while as I actually searched for the school, I finally found the blasted school. At which point I had to work out where to deposit the bloody audition DVD. Luckily for me, there was a lovely young administrative drone who happened to step outside as I pondered possible routes of delivery, and who proceeded to take said DVD for me to deposit with whomever it was meant to be deposited. So thank you, kind stranger affiliated with The Arts Unit.

Aaaaaaaanywhom, I then headed back to the station (although this time via a far less circuitous route - I love learning from mistakes), at which point I got to wait on the rather hot platform of Lewisham station, before getting onto an even hotter train. I mean we're back to analogies regarding Satan's armpit here. Although I suppose the fact that I was in full school uniform down to the stockings wasn't helping matters. Gosh does that stuff insulate.

On the train, I happened to run into Katelyn Campbell, which was lovely, seeing as we hadn't actually seen each other since year 8, wherein we had [a certain mildly crazy biology teacher who now runs enviro club] (ever since that post earlier this week, I'm ensuring I don't actually put in any names lest any more shit hit any more fans). So basically we spent year 8 science choosing hair colours and reading science fiction. Such fun.

And (much to my satisfaction) I made it back to school in time for a lunchtime dance rehearsal.

I just can't help but think that I would have had FAR more fun coaching year 10 Lacrosse. There's just something innately enjoyable about yelling at juniors (for those of you who haven't yet noticed, I consider anyone below year 12 to be a junior) to shove each other out of the way, to be more violent etc. Terribly entertaining.

Oh well. Come next term, I'll be working with [the new head teacher PDHPE, a certain diminutive redhead] to get an interhouse Lacrosse competition going. Gosh I'm pumped.

Oh Bugger. I just realised that I neglected to sign back in upon my arrival at school. That might be an issue come next week.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Today

I gave blood today. It was reasonably enjoyable, as giving blood generally is; although I was somewhat irritated to discover that the minimum age for plasma donations has been raised to 21 for girls, as opposed to the 18 it was a couple of months ago.

Keeping myself occupied as I did so was a marvellously cheap ($6) copy of this month's ELLE (America). I needed it for horoscope inspiration because I am once again writing the horoscopes for the newly resurrected Papa. Fun times for everyone.

During my blood donation, I underwent the rather disconcerting experience of having several separate people compliment me on the quality of my veins. It's indescribably awkward when a nurse tells you that she really enjoys taking your blood. Or when another tells you that 'You're the easiest girl to take blood from all day'.

I MEAN COME ON!!!

Anyway. Armed with mX, I ran down the escalators at Martin Place to catch an express to Hurstville. As I reached the bottom of the escalator, I lay eyes on the most gorgeous guy in a suit I had seen in quite a while. For those of you whose brains are going in questionable directions, he looked to be early twenties. And so, safely ensconced in the train (he was waiting on the platform for a later train) I sent my first 'Here's Looking At You' text.

Gosh I feel cool.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Rage and Vitriol (or, Why I Was In Tears At School)

N.B.: At the recommendation of Sarah, I have removed all names from this post to ensure that I can't be expelled.

Today, after the airing of some philosophical differences with the current principal of my school, I am reminded of just how much I hate [insert name of my school]. Not the school per se, but the administration, and it's self-preserving bureaucracy.

What passes for a choir at [insert name of my school] is a depressingly tuneless bunch of girls led by an equally talentless hack who not only cannot conduct, but has failed to grasp the concept that when one is conducting a choir, one does not sing at the same time. It's just not done. Regardless, faced by this vacuum, I thought it might be an idea to start up my own little chamber choir for which I would choose the repertoire (thus immediately ensuring that there would be nothing off the soundtrack of a musical, nor would there be any ridiculous arrangements of rightly obscure songs which aim to feature someone who really oughtn't have been given a solo, nor would there be any song entirely in unison (I mean really. We are in high school now. We can handle parts); as seems to be the norm of the official school choirs), and restrict membership to only those who were ACTUALLY ABLE TO SING. Crazy, I know. Imagine only letting people who could sing join a choir.

Moving on. This choir was to have auditioned for the Schools Spectacular - the Department of Education and Training's way of saying 'Look at us!! Aren't we fantastic!! Yay us!!'. As it was, this was to be a bit of a rush job, as on Thursday, when I thought to check the website for when applications opened, it turned out that they closed the next day, with audition videos being due in a week later. Thus I spent Friday frantically getting the signatures I needed so that we could be considered. After a mild initial hitch involving the meddling of the afore-mentioned choir bitch, [insert name of the teacher who runs the school choirs], I managed to get the necessary signatures to fax off the forms.

Come Monday, I met with the girls who were interested, handed out music, assigned parts and more or less explained what we were doing. I'd spent a large chunk of the weekend working out what the audition pieces would be - there had to be two contrasting pieces - and I finally ended up choosing Eternity by Michael Bojesen (an ambitious choice, being that it ends up in 8 parts, and I only had 8 girls in the choir, and they only had until filming on Thursday to have it up to performance standard) and Little Fish by Neil Finn (the dude from Crowded House) which was a rather more accessible piece, being only in 3 parts. As far as I could tell, everyone was keen, and more than willing to put in the hard yards necessary to get the pieces up to scratch in the couple of days they had.

Today, Tuesday, was to be our first runthrough of Eternity, so as to ensure that they knew what they were practising in the leadup to Thursday. Thus runthrough was to have taken place at recess. About 5 minutes before the start of period 3, the junior on office duty came to my English class with a Go to the principal's office now/recess/lunch slip. Unlike the friendly white Go to the front office now/recess/lunch (with the incorrect options crossed out) slips, the principal forms are blue and only handed out under dire circumstances. This was my second experience of receiving such a summons, the first time being in year 11 when I was told, although not in the succinct manner which would have made the news more palatable because it would have given the impression of respect ([insert name of principal], our principal has the most nauseating habit of beating around the bush in this irritatingly magnanimous manner, as if she's so above such meniality that we should be honoured that she's taken the time to bestow such wisdom upon us lowly mortals), that I wasn't allowed to wear the school vest that I had made after cutting the sleeves off of an old school jumper (I mean honestly. It was a school jumper. It's not like I was wearing some ratty black cardigan like the majority of girls at my school) and that (although this wasn't actually articulated - but she made damn sure I knew what she was getting at) if I did not, I would lose my position as president of the SRC. Suffice to say that I don't tend to enjoy meetings with the principal. The fact that she's a raging bitch doesn't help.

But as I was explaining before that rather lengthy tangent, I was called in for a meeting in the middle of class, so I was feeling an understandable level of trepidation. I was sat down and it was explained to me in an indescribably patronising manner that I was not allowed to start this choir, that I should merely join the school choir and (verbatim) if they're good enough, see if they get into Spec (end quote). The meeting was so interminably long that I had to spend the majority of it digging my nails into the sensitive bits of skin on my hands and wrists in a desperate attempt not to cry, and in doing so, give her the satisfaction of winning the argument. As it was, no tears fell whilst I was in her office, so round 1 to me. The galling thing was that just before I was dismissed, she asked if I thought it was fair. Well let's be honest now. It's not as if I had the option of speaking my mind. So I nodded. AND THEN SHE SAID THAT IT SEEMED TO HER AS IF I THOUGHT HER DECISION WAS UNFAIR! I MEAN COME ON! OF COURSE I THOUGHT THAT. I'D PUT IN SO MUCH EFFORT AND THEN SHE JUST SUMMARILY SHUT IT DOWN. And of course the only reason why the issue would have returned to her attention after she most willingly and enthusiastically signed the forms on Friday, was that [insert name of the teacher who runs the school choirs] actually went and complained about it. Because clearly she felt threatened by the thought of a few girls getting together to sing a little. Perhaps instead of stabbing MY choir in the back, she could concentrate on making HER choir better. Wouldn't that be pleasant.

Having left her office I spent a marvellously enjoyable 10 minutes hyperventillating in the year 12 study with Carmel (I hyperventillated, she hugged) before I had to go back to class and pretend that nothing had happened. I then spent recess telling the girls that we had in fact been shut down. Do you have any idea how saddening it is to see an ensemble you put together shut down without even being given an opportunity to perform? I wasn't even given the opportunity to argue in favour of my choir.

Appartently, [insert name of principal] felt I had "manipulated her into signing off on a choir which she ordinarily would never have signed off on", because apparently I "made it seem as if this was an official school choir run by [insert name of the teacher who runs the school choirs]". And I know I did no such thing. I was open from the outset about the fact that this was entirely student run and organised. Furthermore, [insert name of principal] was "surprised that [I] had the audacity to form such a choir behind everyone's back" (now would be a good time to say that the stuff in quotation marks is verbatim).

Well fuck that. I just wish I'd thought of transferring earlier. The whole vest incident ought really have acted as a warning sign of the authoritarian nature of her purvey. The sad thing is that come next year she'll be the longest serving principal at [insert name of my school]. All she's done is fuck the school over. Both figuratively and literally. If I didn't know it would more or less shoot my ATAR to hell, I'd transfer anyway. Because I honestly don't think I can hack this school for much longer. I'm thinking as a bit of recreation I'll write some open letters to newspapers and the like. I'm thinking that would be even more cathartic than writing this has been. Because if there's something [insert name of principal] hates, it's bad press...

Monday, January 31, 2011

Q and A

Would I give you my number?
Yes.

Would I go out with you?
Yes.

Would I take you home with me?
Yes.

Would I call you in tears to have a bitch session with you?
Yes.

Do I like it when you upload every photo to pass through your sim card, iespecially all of the incredibly unflattering ones that I'd thought you'd deleted?
No, you little shitheads. Cut it out.

Analogies

Today is hot. The only way to accurately describe just how hot today is would be to utilise the much underused analogy 'hotter than satan's armpit'.
Friggin' satan.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Apathy

I am incredibly tired and sore from marching band. It seems I am no longer used to hefting a sousaphone about. Read about my marvy weekend at the band blog.

Friday, January 21, 2011

X

Today marks the tenth anniversary of my father's death.
How time flies.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Continuity

I was flicking through the channels and came across Troy.

If ever there was a movie in which no-one gave a damn about continuity, this is it.

To begin with, the Trojan war went on for a good 10 years. The movie pegs the war at about three days, maybe four.

With each morning, there's a lovely shot of the sun rising... from Troy's western shore.

When the civilians are running into Troy as the greeks arrive, if you look carefully, you'll see my favourite extra: a Llama.

Not to mention the fact that Aeneas is practically a child. The man was in his thirties and carryign his crippled father on his back when he fled Troy.

And there was no sword of Troy. Srsly guys.

And that wasn't even getting started on the historical innacuracies, but since I don't have several hours on my hands, I'm not going to bother.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Beardie Weirdies

Those of you who know me will be aware of the fact that I am not a fan of facial hair below the nose. Eyebrows are great, I just take issue with stubble. And any mustache other than a Stalin. Because foreign policy aside, the man had a great mow.

This dislike of stubble is so profound that I avoid university campuses like the plague during exam time, because they're flooded with guys rocking their 'beard of knowledge' - namely the bum fluff that roves about their faces as they try to convey the fact that they're studying so hard they don't have the five minutes max per day it would take them to shave.

All the St Georgians out there will remember when Mr Mo went from clean shaven to stubbly back in '09. It's not like we'd never seen him with stubble before, each year at LSS he was rocking the 'holiday beard' as we called it, and so imagine our horror when the holiday beard persisted for two entire years of school. It must be said in his defense that the beard growing might be an attempt to break out of the boyish persona he developed from starting teaching at St G fresh out of university, and at a school where he was a good 10 or more years younger than everyone else on the teaching staff, because now that he has a daughter, he now has to conform to his role as paterfamilias. Perhaps this contributed to his being kicked out of the Under 30s club growing at St G because he was too mature.

Regardless, this post is here because I saw the most marvellous thingie on a blog I follow - a chart ranking the trustworthiness of male facial hair.

Enjoy.



Click it and it gets bigger (which is kind of what she said...) alternately, go here to find it in its natural habitat.

Begging Forgiveness (or, a bitch about improper scansion)

I haven't blogged in a while. I apologise. I suppose that the fact that my life has been completely boring of late isn't an excuse, because although my life has been frighfully ho-hum, world politics is getting marvellously fruity, and I like nothing more than dispensing political analysis.

Because I'm cool like that.

I'm trawling youtube for decent music to listen to, and so far I've got nothing. So I've gone to my fallback - Sacra by Apocalyptica. Any piece of music which features phasing between 12/8 and 4/4 is bound to be something I'm willing to listen to over and over again.

I have a feeling that I'm drawn to music with fruity and/or questionable time signatures. That's probably why I like Suicide and Redemption by Metallica. It starts and ends in 5/4.

There is one flaw with this reasoning however - by my above logic, I should like music composed by Ross Edwards. Which I most unequivocally do not. It's as if the man opens up Sibelius or whichever music writing software he uses and then selects notes and beats at random and then just formats time signatures around whatever drivel appears on the screen and then calls it avant-garde or whatever he happens to call it.

I'm so apathetic at the moment that I can't even be bothered to rant about modern art. For those of you who haven't uttered the name Ross Edwards in my earshot, I have a very good and angry rant on the subject of modern art/s. I'm just feeling too blegh to put it on the internet.

Suffice it to say that The Promised Land was a bitch to perform and didn't even sound any good. Don't even get me started on David Malouf's lyrics therefor. Not only did they not make sense, they didn't scan well. And if I learnt nothing from Latin, it was that it's not that difficult to get stuff to scan well. Seriously. especially if you've just chosen random words and stuck them together. If you've done that (as Malouf indisputably did) there is no excuse for bad scanning.

My, my. That was a mildly pointless stream of consciousness. I was only motivated to blog so as to test whether or not my interface between my blog and facebook works. Theoretically, when I publish my post, my facebook profile will be automatically updated to reflect that fact. Gosh I love technology.