It’s raining! But of course Rome deals with it gracefully, with just a few slippery cobblestones to contend with.

I, on the other hand, was not so well equipped, but I knew I wasn’t, so in some weird way, I guess I was.

My shoes, Italian brand Geox, have these nifty little holes in the soles – Geox: the shoe that breathes. Unfortunately, the shoe that can breathe is also the shoe that can drown. They’ve never handled wet weather well. I knew this would be a problem because it’s December in Europe, but these shoes are about four years old. Once they got so muddy that I threw them in bin, but then retrieved them because I thought I could revive them. Anyway, I figured the best way to let them go was to force myself into replacing them, which I kind of did today if you call blue gumboots a replacement for sensible black sneakers.

So now I’m back at the apartment for a sock/footwear switcheroo and waiting for my jeans to dry a bit. It’s almost midday which means it’s almost time for pizza.

I’m going on a hunt for starlings today. I noticed signs of their presence on the footpaths this morning. Squelching through bird poo is kinda gross, so I’m hoping a sighting of thousands of birds in formation will justify it. Thanks Yvonne for the link to the article, which is well worth reading.

I’m in Rome and wondering how any other city could ever match this place. I was here briefly almost 10 years ago and I’m starting to think the constant drizzle might have covered up the truly breathtaking beauty of Rome – otherwise, what on earth took me so long to return? Also, 10 years ago I wasn’t staying in an apartment in Trastevere. I haven’t been here long, but I’m pretty sure this the most beautiful place I’ve ever visited.

Before I say another thing, I’m feeling a bit self-conscious about posting on my blog when I should be getting a life and seeing Rome. In my defense, I’ve hit a jetlag wall. It’s almost 4pm here but my body is convinced it’s 2am. So I tell my body, “hey, you woke up at 3pm so stop complaining” and my body says, “zzzzz”. I slept like a hibernating bear last night, but it hasn’t cured me of sleepiness just yet.

Lucky for me, MJ is at a conference today (hopefully she’s feeling more sprightly that I am) and my aim for the day was to read up and plan the rest of our trip so we don’t faff away the next few weeks in a haze of directionlessness. So I’ve wandered in and out of the apartment, covering a lot of Trastevere ground and then winding my way back home for rest/reading stops. As far as jetlaggy days go, this is probably one of the better, guilt-free ones. Also, I ate pizza, which means I’m currently meeting my goal of eating pizza every day I’m in Italy. You can never feel too lazy in a day if you’re meeting goals.

Ahhh, further proof of my sleepiness – I’m using MJ’s computer as speakers for my ipod, but instead of selecting my music collection in itunes I just played MJ’s collection. I didn’t notice that it wasn’t my music until I heard a song and thought “wait, what’s this song? I’ve heard it before but can’t quite place it…I know, I’ve heard it at church!” I’d stumbled into MJ’s church hymns. It’s kinda folksy and nice actually. It sounded different when it was sung at our church when I was little, but I do remember it being one of the ones I liked. Download it here and have a listen.

That reminds me of a joke I made up when I was little. I might not have made it up actually. I remember reading one good church joke and then being inspired to create my own. This was either the inspirational joke or the inspired joke. I hope I made it up, because it’s amazingly funny. I remember telling my mum and seeing one of those rare parental looks that means something like, “wow, I think I might have actually produced a genius”

Q: How do you know God is a man and not a woman?

A: Because we sing hymns not hers.

…OK I googled it, and that joke is ALL OVER the internet. I might still have made it up, but I certainly wasn’t the only one that thought of the most obvious joke ever. Another one goes, Q. How do you know god is a man? A. Because we say Amen not Awomen. ugh, stupid patriarchal church jokes. bleh.

It’s 11.20pm on the 30th of November and I’m posting my 30th post for the month! Suck it NaBloPoMo – you thought you’d win, but I triumphed over your pointless evil.

Unfortunately posting on this blog is only one thing on a fairly extensive list of things I need to do before flying tomorrow but I think we’ve all fully grasped the abject failure of my organisational skills over the past week or so, so no need to go on and on and on. Oh no, too late.

Reporting back on the holiday reading plans, I’ve decided to take one book which I may or may not complete. I’ve settled on the delightful red edition of Pride and Prejudice I picked up in Bangkok but haven’t yet opened. (if you followed the link to the red edition of P&P you’ll see Days of Reading by Proust that drove me round the bend for a week of bus rides in Bangkok)

***

I just read back a couple of posts and picked out about five typos without much effort, so sorry about those. My favourite was the time when I called my camera a phone. The fact that many people’s phones are cameras probably made it less stupid to the reader, but that doesn’t get away from the fact that I thought ‘camera’ and wrote ‘phone’.

Farewell from Coburgistan. My next post will come from a place with about as many Italians as Coburg, but many more tourists.

29/30

What a powerhouse of a weekend. I’m so tired that I can’t even write sentences. So I offer you my weekend in a numbered list.

1. Friday morning bus ride to Melbourne. Bus driver yelled at me for not buying by ticket earlier – I mounted high-horse, pointed out that I was a customer and referred to his ‘tone of voice’. Uncharacteristic but extremely gratifying behaviour
2. Arrived in Melbourne, put all worldly possessions into locker at State Library, went to library to prepare for phone interview for job
3. Had phone interview – think it went well
4. Met friends for Friday night drinks – drinks very well enjoyed
5. Realised has been enjoying drinks too much – worldly possessions locked inside State Library, unable to be retrieved until Saturday 10am which doesn’t help me because I have to leave the city to attend a wedding at 8.30am. Outfit for wedding, makeup, toothbrush inside locker.
6. Way too early Saturday morning – go to Lara’s to borrow clothes, Greg drives us to Glenburn to fight off burglars at Elisa’s farm
7. Fought off burglars and made salads, played with Sook the cute old dog
8. Celebrate Elisa’s wedding in a ger
9. Drove back to Melbourne listening to Gold 104 Party Rock Hits – Queen, ELO, Elvis Costello, Warrant, etc.
10. Caught up with Robyn before she flew off to Perth much too soon
11. Slept
12. Sunday morning – waited for a break in rain to go to State Library to retrieve possessions
13. Went back to Lara’s relished opportunity to shower and change out of three-day-old clothes
14. Made bee-line for nearest purveyor of dirty chinese food suitable for hangover
15. Went back to Lara’s, read the last 50 pages of John Banville’s The Sea
16. Relocated to Rowan’s new house, pretended to help unpack
17. Cooked dinner
18. Slept

28/30

Post 27/30.

I missed the train this morning. The 20 minute drive to the train station is usually fraught as imagine the train chugging out of the station before we get there, but it never actually happens. This time, the train was pulling out as we arrived.

So the chase was on to the next station about 20kms away. Turns out the train has a more direct route to the next town and doesn’t get stuck behind road works vehicles.

The consolation coffee on Lake Nagambie was nice though.

Train photo from Weekly Times

Lake photo from Centretown Motel Nagambie

This is post 26 out of 30 to meet my own slightly altered NaBloPoMo challenge. Only four more to go before the end of the month.

So, I was in Darwin with the girls and we went to Mindel markets and it was the last market before the wet season so they had fireworks. I was all, ‘fireworks are endlessly entertaining, but seriously, why bother taking photos? Just enjoy the moooooment man…’ and then I noticed this fireworks setting on  my phone and realised, photos of fireworks are actually the best thing ever.

I forgot to post today.

But now, instead of posting, I need to

• pack for Europe
• pack for a few days in Melbourne before going to Europe, days that involve a wedding (i.e. complicated attire arrangements)
• do some dumb student number thing for MJ that I can’t explain any better than that

All before catching the train at 7.30 tomorrow morning.

You know, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ll have the chance to post much over the next few days. It looks like I stared NaBloPoMo in the face…and forfeited a couple of metres before the finish line.

Wait! I can’t just roll over! I may not post every day, but I will post 30 posts before the end of November! I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But what choice do I have? How can expect to look my young fans in the face and say, ‘kids, do your best but don’t be surprised when it’s not good enough.’

I won’t stare any young fan in the face and say that. I’ll say, ‘kids, to be awesome you should copy me as much as possible because I am awesome.’

Yeah.

It’s been an iTunes-y kind of day today. This morning I had a surprise delivery of a $50 dollar iTunes voucher just for switching over something about my superannuation. Too easy suckers! And now I’m trawling iTunes for podcasts to load up the pod before I go away.

I’m a bit of a podcast obsessive, but today I’ve been struggling to find new podcasts that I can imagine actually listening to. So after the great success that was asking for help to decide on holiday reading, I am asking again for any suggestions of good podcasts.

Here’s what I’m after:

1. Good podcasts

This request is obviously contingent on your interests, but I’d appreciate any suggestions of podcasts you consistently listen to and enjoy.

My favourites include:

• This American Life
• The New Yorker Fiction podcast
• The Moth podcast
• The Economist (for the crisp English accents – makes you feel more efficient)
• KCRW’s Morning Becomes Eclectic
• Late Night Live
• StoryCorps
• This I Believe

There are other great podcasts around, but if something is too date-specific it’s often out of date by the time I listen to it (it would be a problem for the Economist too if it weren’t for those accents)

Wow, I just realised that if my favourite podcasts are an indicator of my interests and I heed the advice that I follow my interests to find a career then whoah, I AM IN THE WRONG CAREER. Eek. In defence of myself and poor career choices I mostly listen to podcasts late at night, when I want to be hearing soft voices instead of barking debate.

That little insight into the inner world of Sarah is yours for free.

Here’s the other thing I want.

1. A place that finds and recommends good podcasts

These things exist by the dozen, but pretty much all of them tell me that I want to listen to CNN and geeks talking about gadgets. Wrong. Any suggestions of a site or someone who recommends a good podcast from time to time?

My European sojourn is fast approaching, and while I haven’t planned as much as I hoped there is one facet of my trip I intend on plotting carefully.

Holiday reading.

I’ve decided to embrace that kind of embarrassing image of a tourist reading a cliché on paper – For example, reading “The Year of Living Dangerously” in Indonesia, or “Istanbul” by Orhan Pamuk in Istanbul.

So I need three books for my three primary destinations. After a minute or so of thought I’ve got some early contenders, but I’m open to suggestions.

Italy – The Name of the Rose, Umberto Eco

France – (open to suggestions)

Germany – Stasiland, Anna Funder

My selections are weighted heavily towards what’s been on my ‘to read’ list for a while and what’s already on the book shelf.

Recommendations?

Elisa is getting married next weekend. She’s getting off  the shelf. She’s becoming Ross’s fork and knife.

So we celebrated with croquet and Pims….

David takes the glory...even though he lost the game

Clearly breaking with World Croquet Association dress code - croquet whites only please

It's a game for ladies

The happy couple. Anna and Ingrid getting into the conjugal vibe. Anna has a ring, Ingrid has a 'bride to be' sash. The young people these days break all the rules.

Come to Brighton - where the beach meets rigid social conservatism

The dashing gentlemen

These balls are for Sunday only

Feeling a little playful...Oh the naughtiness

I just submitted my application for the perfect job. Fortunately, this morning I had a resume-writing breakthrough!

My breakthrough has made writing about how perfect I am for the perfect job SO MUCH EASIER!

Q. What’s one of the hardest aspects of writing a good resume?

A. For me, it’s definitely writing about how awesome I am. (If you don’t find it hard to do this you’re probably an egomaniac and almost certainly not Australian).

One of the reasons I hate writing about my stellar achievements at my past jobs is the niggling feeling that someone I know, maybe my old boss, would read it. They would think, ‘phfff, she makes it sound like the best job ever when in actual fact it was just an ordinary job’.

But here’s the thing, that’s not true! That’s not what your old boss or anyone else would think. Here’s why:

1. Your resume will probably override any lasting memory of you, so when you say that you achieved a whole lot of cool stuff, the reader will be inclined to say, ‘That sounds impressive and, come to think of it, it’s true! Wow, she’s impressive!’
2. Everyone wants to be on the winning team, so unless the reader is your arch nemesis, they’ll be happy to be associated with that awesomeness – this would be especially true for colleagues/bosses. They’ll probably be happy to steal your best lines.

There is two exceptions to this theory I can think of:

1. Some people will think that your awesomeness somehow detracts from their awesomeness so they might be inclined to cut you down to size. They’re dumb.
2. If you blatantly lie on your resume people are going to see through it (maybe not your new employer, but they’ll figure it out sooner or later)

I know that plenty of people think you need to lie on your CV because everyone else is doing it, but I’m of the Penelope Trunk school of thought that there is a fine art of almost-lying-but-not-lying on a resume. Which is essentially just good marketing.

This might be a good litmus test -

• If you can’t show your resume to your old boss, you’re probably lying too much
• If you won’t show it to your nonjudgmental best friend, you’re probably lying too much
• If you’re embarrassed or bashful about showing your resume to your old boss, you’ve probably done a good job of selling yourself
• If your best friend beams with pride when they read your resume, you’ve probably done a good job of selling yourself
• If you feel completely comfortable about showing your old boss your resume you probably need to rewrite it
• If your best friend says, ‘that’s great’ but there are no beams of pride, you definitely need to rewrite it

Maybe you should send your up-to-date resume to your current boss so they can look at it and think, ‘hey, this person’s excellent! They make our project/office/organisation sound amazing!’

***

Inspiration for the resume breakthrough

Posts by Penelope Trunk

• 6 most violated resume writing rules

• How to edit your resume like a professional resume writer

Rowan’s resume – thanks Ro.

Another late night at the Waranga News,  but not as late as last week.

By the next edition, MJ’s compadres will be back and we will be soaring through the night sky, probably somewhere over Russia – my life in newspapers will be over.

***

Walking down the street today I made myself laugh when I realised how oddly bright my mood was. Do you ever have those moments when nothing can bug you?

I was skipping along the street, delighted by grass, the new bitumen road, even a semi-trailer driving past (‘Ah! The sweet rumble of industry!’)  

Funny. 

Also today, I found a dead rosella in a friend’s front doorway. If you try googling ‘dead bird omen’ you find a whole lot of forums with people asking if a dead bird is an omen and a whole lot of people telling them that they’re dopes. I think Italian mamas need to unite and create Omenpedia.

Remember the perfect job? Well, I may never get to it because the application process might send me to bongkersville first.

If your image of me applying for this job includes pages of papers fluttering around as I try to cram for test, or running around gathering references from everyone I’ve ever worked for, you’d be way off.

1000 characters. I have 1000 characters to convey everything I did in my other post but I have to actually fit substance in it. One thing I’ve learned from this process is that 1000 characters allows for very little substance….And certainly no fluff.

No fluff. Readers, dear readers. As readers you know that fluff is what I do.

FYI. this post is exactly 723 characters (included spaces) long.

It’s Sunday evening and I’m back in Rushworth after another glorious weekend in Melbourne and the meandering bus trip home (the Vline bus ride deserves its own post)

The mark of a top notch weekend?

Bags under the eyes over a tasty Sunday lunch of course.

(tastiness courtesy of Blue Chillies on Brunswick St – Roti w Curry….mmmm)

It’s Saturday morning and I have a bunch of stuff to do but I am diligently posting now because I will have better things to do with my life for the rest of the day.

Last night, Lara, Al and I went to the newest Mo Vida restaurant, Mo Vida Aqui. I don’t remember enjoying eating food as much as I enjoyed it last night! Just so much deliciosity.  I have a constant love affair with food but last night was like date night and we rekindled the flame. It helped the process along that Paul works there so we got extra special treatment and it further helped the process along that the staff seemed particularly fun and lovely. I’m not a food writer, but I’m sure you’ll hear the poetry in the next sentence. There was this anchovy thing with sorbet and it tasted really, REALLY yum.

Before dinner, Lara and I faced our fears of shopping and made a trip to Highpoint. I needed an outfit for croquet and an outfit for a wedding on a farm. I got a skirt and a white shirt. I think that means I can class the trip as ‘moderately successful’.

But as croquet is to be played this afternoon I must be off to the shops to find the rest of the outfit. Wish me luck!

Darwin day 2!

We packed up the car and drove to Litchfield National Park.

First stop: Petrol Station

Next stop: Litchfield, the town near the entrance to the park…

where we got excited about things like blossoms.

Clare with the blossom.

Clare earmarked a stop along the way into the national park, a lone banyan tree.

Further down the road we saw the amazing magnetic termite mounds. They’re called magnetic termite mounds because they run north to south. How do the termites know?

The sightseers.

Next stop, the falls.

and the first of many swims to be had before the week ended.

A couple of months ago I wrote about my early impressions of working from home.  A few months later it’s still pretty awesome for exactly the same reasons (dress code and lunch options) but I still want to return to an office one day. But today’s work space was so lovely today that I think I could get pretty used to this if I had to.

I think Chloe might be heir to the Pink Nails legacy

I love the last page of a magazine. Is there a special publishing term for that page? Does anyone know?

Remember when Modern Guru was on the last page in the Good Weekend? It was funnier back then too.

Vanity Fair has the Proust Questionnaire which is always a little pocket of goodness that I forget about every time. VF recently published a collection of them. And Graydon Carter wrote about the Proustian Bargain.

There is also an interactive Proust Questionnaire which I would start and invite you all to answer (we can compare responses) but I can’t get past the first question. Would someone else please get the ball rolling?

Another great last page is the Monthly magazine’s Encounters series written by Shane Maloney. Stories of interactions between two people you may or may not ordinarily think of in the same sentence. This month’s Encounter is between Richard Casey (Australian politician and diplomat) and Mahatma Gandhi.

I think my favourite Encounter was in the third edition of The Monthly in 2006 – between Errol Flynn and Fidel Castro. It could be Maloney’s crime fiction roots that were so suited to that story, but I still remember the humid Cuban setting even though I read it three years ago.

What magzines have you got at your place? What’s on the last page?

I mentioned a couple of months ago how much I was enjoying revisiting Aimee Mann’s music on the Magnolia soundtrack.

Since then, that album and two other albums have dominated my listening because they are soooooo good! (possibly also because they’re at a pitch that doesn’t bother my funny left ear but I’m not musically literate enough to explain these things)

Interestingly, all three albums were on high rotation when I first got them but had been put aside for new music a while ago. Why is there something extra good about rediscovering an album you love. Best thing ever.

Martha Wainwright – self titled

Regina Spektor – Begin to Hope

I found the most amazing job vacancy yesterday. Can I tell you how great a job can be?

1. It requires one particular skill that I’m really good at
2. Not many people like doing this job but I really like it
3. It is with an organisation I know VERY well and in an area I know well
4. It’s in a completely new and completely amazing location
5. In terms of skills and relevant experience there must only be another handful of people in the world who are as well suited to this job as me. I’m sure there are thousands of people who could do the job well but I think I could do it better!

So wish me luck for the application process. I’ll let you know how it goes.

A few weeks ago, MJ and I went for a walk in the bush and bumped into a few kangaroos. It’s common to see one or two, but this mob was pretty cool. I didn’t want to get too close because they’re pretty bloody strong so I had to zoom.

Making up for NaBloPoMo failure by posting twice in one day – a Saturday no less, and in the middle of a moment of socialising.

That reminds me of an ad that I saw on TV the other day. A guy is walking along with two girls and he’s pushing a poker machine everywhere with him. They get to a bar and the others go ahead but he can’t fit his poker machine in the door so he’s stuck outside. Then the tagline: “Is gambling interfering in your social life? Call the gambler’s anonymous hotline”.

“Is NaBloPoMo interfering in your social life?”

Anyway, Lara, Greg and I just went to the shops to buy ingredients for dinner and this sign made me giggle.

If I wasn’t worried about getting caught taking photos I might not have taken such a blurry photo. If you could read it properly you would notice that it’s a special: $9.99 – save 0 cents. But hurry, offer ends 09/11.

Lara and I laughed about the great deal but Greg called us on it, “Hey guys, don’t laugh, it all adds up”.

OK, time to get back to human interaction. Cooking Soto Ayam . yum.

Dropped the NaBloPoMo ball yesterday. I thought I’d make some time in the evening to post but instead went to see a film which was so nice I just forgot about blogs for a while.

The movie was great by the way. I’m trying to share my favourite song from the soundtrack but running into difficulty on someone else’s computer early on Saturday morning.

Try this: I’m Comin’ Home, Baby – Mel Torme

Oh dear, it’s late again, and technically not Thursday yet – but I’ll schedule this to autopost. Is that allowed in NaBloPoMo?

Since we last met I got on the train to Melbourne and am now getting ready for long-awaited sleep in Jess’s toy room/ad hoc spare bedroom.

Best discovery ever happened today (what good fortune for this blog): First class on the train! The Shepparton-Melbourne train is pretty reliably unpleasant. It’s slow and you always get stuck next to someone who is, objectively speaking, awful. Today I wanted to get some work done (which I did – go me) so I decided to pay the extra for First class. It was sooooo worth it. Arm rests, drink tables, giant windows that aren’t so dirty that you’re grossed out when you look through them. I actually enjoyed the journey.

I’ve come to Melbourne with a purpose. Tomorrow I’m babysitting Jess’s kids while she and Mark go to Oaks Day. Have I ever told you about how much I don’t like the Spring Racing Carnival in Melbourne? Too much orange fake tan. But helping Jess decide what to wear is actually kind of fun – especially because I don’t have to do any of the dressing up myself.

I took down some notes as Jess told me what I needed to know for the day, but I’ve only got things like:

• Midday – sleep
• 5-5.15pm – dinner
• 7-7.30pm – bed

What else am I supposed to do all day? I suspect Jess would fill in the blanks with something like:

• 9am to 7.30pm  – Try to stop Liam from terrorizing his brothers

Day taken care of! OK, thinking about this makes me realise I need to be asleep ASAP.

It’s sleepytown here as I wait for MJ to finish the Waranga News for another fortnight. Key members of the usual posse are away so I’ve been roped in to stay the course. I did the layout on a tricky page and it came out looking A.MAZE.ING. I think I’m gifted. I also wrote a schmaltzy letter to the editor to fill up some space. It’s been all hands on deck. But now it’s after 2am and we’re both bored and sleepy. 

Oh boy! I’ve just been called back into action. My task: check the page numbers. It’s a cut throat bizniz, journalism. Toughen up or toddle off to bed…Only the strong survive. 

This picture has been on the fridge since I cut it out of the paper a few weeks ago and still makes me giggle every time I look at it.

The accompanying article was about a stupidly expensive pen that had been released to commemorate Gandhi. Some people pointed out that a pen worth more than an average person’s annual salary probably isn’t the best way to honour the Mahatma. I’ll admit that it was on the fridge for about week before I read the article.

*Photo from Reuters

I just spent the week in Darwin.

In Darwin there is a pub that proudly hosts Tits Out Tuesday. Our flight arrived JUST IN TIME!

As tempting as TOT was, we chose to go to the beach instead.

So Amanda has been living in Darwin for the past six months and through some bizarre miracle, Lara, Clare and I were all ready and willing to visit at the same time.

Clare made the journey from Alice Springs to Darwin by road. If you’re not Australian you might want to look at a map so you can add the appropriate “phwoar, what a massive, hot, desert-y road trip” noises. Lara and I jumped on a plane and arrived a few hours and a very confusing time difference later.

But we did arrive with just enough time to get the beach for sunset. Lara and I brought almond croissants from Melbourne and Amanda had the Darwin mangoes ready to go.

More lovely Darwin moments to share later.

This is Dross*

Rowan and I have double dared each other to complete NaBloPoMo. For those of you who don’t know (spending time under your rock I suppose), it stands for National Blog Posting Month.

Lame jokes about hiding under rocks aside…NaBloPoMo is a spin off of the very cool NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. Every November heaps of people commit to writing and completing a novel over 30 days. It’s nuts! I will do it sometime in the future when I have a November free and feel like spending all of my time and effort writing something that will be objectively awful. But I still think it would be fun.

Anyway, this is just an intro to a month of blog silliness. I warn you now, I’ll be scraping the bottom of the barrel early on this month, so be prepared for some dross. Actually, a month of silliness and dross sounds great!

Wait! Brainwave! The NaBloPoMo website says, “The theme for November is there is no theme for November”. Which could mean any number of things, but what I take it to mean is that I get to assign my own ill-defined theme. I choose dross.

Instead of hassling my friends to join the fun, consider this post a personal invitation. C’mon!

Photo credit: stolen from www.pyramydair.com/blog, a blog about air riffles. Original caption: This is Dross. Found by searching “dross” in google images.

Beck moved house a few weeks ago and the first day I was there I saw the strangest thing.

Bees. Lots of bees.

I heard them before I saw them. At about 12 pm they arrived and filled the back yard. At about 12.15pm they disappeared. There were many more than are visible in the photo.

The next day, at about 12pm. Same thing. 12.15pm – gone.

Nicer things to look at in the back yard include this lavender plant.

I haven’t seen any more bees since those first two days.

I went to Ikea with Jess and Beck the other day. I didn’t need any furniture but I did need odd food from the Swedish grocer. I bought some biscuits and caviar in a tube, but my favourite purchase for the day was:

Swedish Rye Bread in a carton.

Following the instructions I:

• just added water
• shook (I feel like the word should be ’shaked’ in this context)
• poured

…and voila!

It was a bit stinky when it first came out of the oven, but was pretty tasty. Over the next day or so it got even tastier until it was positively delicious!

Another seasonal post. This time a contribution from our foreign correspondent, Simone.

Three things to show you . . .
red leaves
purple shoes
blue scarf

It’s finally spring. I came home on the tail-end of winter and it was still waaaaaay too long.

By popular demand, the delightful Piano Stairs.

Found by Simone in Pentwater, Michigan:

Who can resist a peace stick?

I’ve been dipping into TED a bit lately so I thought I’d share the two TED talks I watched this morning as a substitute for a real blog post. If you’re not familiar with TED, the talks might seem long, but they’re worth it.

Barry Schwartz on the paradox of choice

Elizabeth Gilbert on a different way to think about creative genius

It’s only now as I post them that I realise a common theme between the talks. Both  discuss the increased burden of personal responsibility. Elizabeth Gilbert talks about the responsibility for your creative successes and failures and the often crippling effect it has on creative people. Barry Schwartz talks about the burden of choice in modern life.

It seems interesting that young people (and old) are often accused of not taking responsibilty for their actions. I wonder if trying to find excuses for your actions (I have a disorder of some kind; I had a difficult childhood) is a reaction to the constant daily burden of being held responsible for every tiny (and grand) success and failure in life.

I love the Official White House Photostream – I have it on RSS feed. Lots of wholesome shots that make me wonder if employing attractive people official White House HR policy.

Remind you of an episode of The West Wing?

Reggie Love, President Barack Obama's personal aide, drives to the basket during a game with members of Congress and Cabinet secretaries on the White House basketball court, Oct. 8, 2009. (Official White House Photo by Pete Souza)

President Barack Obama, along with members of Congress and Cabinet secretaries, jockeys for a rebound during a basketball game on the White House court, Oct. 8, 2009. (Official White House Photo by Pete Souza)

Have a look at the photostream for photos of Bo the puppy’s birthday (!), and President Obama and Malia reading from the Declaration of Independence (aww). I know people are getting a bit tired of unchecked Obama-love. But come on, they have a Flickr photostream, don’t they deserve unchecked love? Sometimes I even wonder if I love the real West Wing more than the show…But only sometimes – it’s a really good show.

Today is Blog Action Day, a day when every single blogger in the universe and throughout history writes about the same topic on the same day. This year’s topic was decided upon based on suggestions from everyone in the whole world, and Climate Change was overwhelmingly the topic of choice. I’m pretty sure I know why…BECAUSE WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE. Ummm, hello Mr Elephant in the Room.

In the spirit of Blog Action Day,

The Top 10 Reasons Why Climate Change Scares the Hell Out of Me.

1. We’re all going to burn to death. That’s horrible.
2. Pacific Island nations won’t exist anymore, which is obviously not good for the people whose countries stop existing (it seems somehow rather humiliating while also being a complete pain of tragic proportions).
3. It’s also not good to lose all of those amazing holiday destinations. I ask you: do you work to live, or live to relax in a hammock and drink sweet alcoholic drinks with umbrellas in them while reading Eat, Pray, Love?
4. The polar bear dies because he can’t find a piece of ice to rest on. The polar bears. What.About.The.Polar.Bears?!
5. People like me exist. Oh soooooo engaged. Oh sooooo committed to the iss-ewes. But I still fly ALL OVER THE WHOLE DAMNED WORLD WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT. Sometimes I fly to the corner shop to get milk when I can’t be bothered walking. I disgust me. I feel hopeless just thinking about me. Usually I feel overwhelmed by my incapacity as one teeny tiny person to affect change. This time I’m horrified that one teeny tiny person has the power to FRY US ALL LIKE BACON IN HELL.
6. The idea of warmer weather sounds actually pretty awesome. OH  MY GOD! PEOPLE LIKE ME – STUPID AS HELL – EXIST. There is no hope.
7. I don’t want to see the end of the world, however it comes. What if that 2012 thing is true and we’re going to die before my 30th birthday? Or even worse, at my 30th birthday party. I know that no one is saying that climate change will kill us all by 2012, but it sure does make me think about the end of the world more than I used to.
8. I do not want to live through a Margaret Atwood novel.
9. There are some little gum trees out the back that are struggling in the drought. If it gets any hotter they don’t stand a chance.
10. I have some friends who don’t do well in the heat. I worry for them.

Eleanor just shared the most wonderful article by Jonathan Safran Foer from the New York Times, Against Meat.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/magazine/11foer-t.html?pagewanted=1&ref=magazine

The main theme of the article is vegetarianism, but it also made me think about:

• Living according to your values
• Marriage
• Raising children (I wondered if my generation could selflessly raise children and then I wondered if anyone has ever selflessly raised a child, or is a child always an expression/project of yourself)
• Sacrifice for religion

Here’s the final section of the article. A conversation between him and his grandmother.

“The worst it got was near the end. A lot of people died right at the end, and I didn’t know if I could make it another day. A farmer, a Russian, God bless him, he saw my condition, and he went into his house and came out with a piece of meat for me.”

“He saved your life.”

“I didn’t eat it.”

“You didn’t eat it?”

“It was pork. I wouldn’t eat pork.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“What, because it wasn’t kosher?”

“Of course.”

“But not even to save your life?”

“If nothing matters, there’s nothing to save.”

“Is life so wretched? Isn’t it rather your hands which are too small, your vision which is muddied? You are the one who must grow up.”

– Dag Hammarskjöld

Quote seen at The Happiness Project

Speaking of Happiness Projects, I’m listening to an album of the same name by Charles Spearin of Broken Social Scene and Do Make Say Think. He invited his neighbours into his house to record their thoughts on happiness, then turned their words into music. Lovely.

Housesitting for Lara a couple of weeks ago, I saw this view from her balcony.

Around the same time, Beck moved house so we dug up some of her plants.

Last week I was in Rushworth with lots of little girls. One night the whole sky turned pink. We ran out as fast as we could, but it disappeared so fast.

I met Meg bright and early this morning to go take a look at the Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) Refugee Camp at Treasury Gardens. It was excellent! Anyone with a free half hour before 5pm this Sunday should head down and take a look. They’ve set up shelter, toilets, a food supply tent, water storage, medical clinics – it was such an effective way to convey the impressive and logistically nightmarish work that MSF does. Even though Meg and I like to think we’re total pros in the world of international aid (ha!) we were asking a million questions a minute to the women who got trapped taking us on a tour. You and your kids and your grandma and your dog will find it interesting.

My camera was battery-flat this morning so I didn’t get any photos and the MSF website’s photos of the exhibit don’t do it justice, so you’ll just have to head down there yourself.

A bit later I met Ro and Greg for lunch. On the way to Big Mama for the world’s best agedashi tofu we stopped in at the RMIT Gallery to peak at Shelter: On Kindness. You may recall my dream of one day having my very own teahouse. This exhibition filled my teahouse-longing soul with glee! The various kinds of shelter have been constructed inside the gallery – one of them is even cut out of the wall. You can climb into some (and possibly others if no one is looking). Again, no camera, not many photos to steal from the website (just the one below) – go see it for yourself.

Both events are free and no one asks you for money (not even at the MSF Refugee Camp but you’ll probably want to give them loads of it once you’ve seen what they do).

Last week was odd. Almost every member of the family was sick at one point, like sick enough to stay in bed for a day, someone went to the hospital and another one called an ambulance. Gee, more drama than one week needs.

My fancy new phone was stolen too.

There was a tsunami in Samoa, flooding in the Philippines, an earthquake in Indonesia. My amazing Aceh housemate’s house was destroyed by the earthquake, she and her husband are OK. A facebook update from a common friend confirmed she was OK, a follow up email from her gave me a bit more detail, and then I learnt that she’d lost her house via a newspaper article in Melbourne (her story starts in the 4th last paragraph). The newspaper also confirmed that she is pregnant. I hope she doesn’t mind that the newspaper told me before she got the chance. She’d alluded to it in her email but wanted to tell me ‘in person’ via a skype call.

Happy news about pregnancy aside, it got to a point where I lost count of how many sets of “bad things happen in threes” I was up to.

I just followed a link to an article on Twitter which coincidentally and very surprisingly mentions another friend in the midst of earthquake recovery. We chatted on skype on Friday as he waited in a UK airport to be flown out to Padang. Now I know he’s arrived and at work.

Last week was also a really fun week. Em came to stay in Rushworth while she was on school holidays, so we did some gardening, baked banana bread and played Connect 4. Then Siobhan, Abby and Chloe joined us and we stayed indoors doing nice indoor things while it seemed to rain for a few days. Most of us slept Saturday away as we waded through a nasty virus. I slept through my 10 year school reunion. I don’t recall ever having a week that was so quiet and so eventful at the same time.

Even though I’m thinking about an internet sabbatical, I still think the internet is the best thing ever. It has things like the Beckoning of Lovely. You can watch this video below, but I recommend going to the original site. It’s nice to look at.

The girl who organised this has a blog at whoisamy.wordpress.com.  Perhaps we could start a coalition of “girls with a question before our name” blogs.

Earlier this week I contemplated an internet sabbatical. It didn’t take long to realise that I would have to quit my job to take a real internet sabbatical so I just did something else for a while. Do you ever have those moments when your internet world seems to be more hot air than substance? When even a well-researched article on a war somewhere is just another well-researched article on a war and it all turns into a fog of information you should be taking in but aren’t. I think it means I need to turn off the computer and go outside.

I was planning on going to the MarketingNow conference on Tuesday which seemed like an event showcasing the people that epitomised my internet fog - ProBloggers and the like talking about social media. Turns out I was too sick on Tuesday to go anyway, so Rowan reported back. By her accounts, it was an informative, energising day. Following the Twitter tags from home made it sound like inane, vapid dross. It was like Christmas day for all the Twitter haters – not even a social media conference could survive being mauled by social media. I visualised rows and rows of people standing on a platform all yelling a single out-of-context quote at the same time.

I was healthier on Wednesday so I went to day two of the conference. Ro was right, it was interesting. I didn’t taint my enjoyment of the day by following the Twitter feed. I watched people around the room as they tweeted, facebooked, blogged, tweaked their new websites and read the news headlines while arguably some of the world’s most accomplished people in their field presented visually engaging and targeted presentations in front of them. It’s not to say they weren’t interested or engaged, it’s just how so many of us operate now. The day I realised that multi-tasking is not a positive skill was one of the happiest days of my life, but I still struggle to sit with a page as it slowly loads. I imagine that I can check my facebook feed in the 10 seconds I have to wait .

Anyway, the conference was good because the people who spoke are people who are using the fog to get stuff done. I think it requires incredible skills in logic and an ordered brain to use social media to its full potential without getting lost along the way. It seemed comforting somehow. Like those moments when you hear about someone who is an expert on archiving old newspapers, it’s a relief to know that it’s being taken care of. It’s a relief to know that these guys are all over social media, willing to keep up with it and report back.

I still went away thinking that an internet sabbatical wouldn’t hurt.

Overheard: a woman to her friend as they returned to their seats on opposite sides of the auditorium, “see you in the Twitter feed”.

Anyway, I wrote this post to share the Heirarchy of Digital Distraction with you. Cool, huh?

Have I mentioned my upcoming trip to the Continent. I’m going back to the land of my ancestors with the clever woman who played a key role in my being Italian, MJ. (who brilliantly thought to marry an Italian man – sure we don’t get passports, but the nice surname is something).

Today I started thinking about the itinerary which is being guided by a conference that MJ is attending in Rome and visits to places that relate to her work. I can accommodate that I suppose.

I drew up a spreadsheet just to extend the lovely planning process as long as possible. I’ve never really planned a trip before, tending to use the, “let’s get there and see what happens” approach, but I realise now that this way I get to THINK about Italy for much longer, which is certainly pleasurable in itself.

I’ve got an Italian dictionary next to me so I can slowly trawl though Italian websites and a million butterflies in my stomach as I worry how we are going to fit everything in.

This will be my third trip to Italy but there is so much I haven’t seen and would really like to do. We’ll be in Europe for three weeks and also have dates with Paris and Bruges. How is this possible?

If only it wasn’t winter and I hadn’t become allergic to cold weather…I could have just stayed.

Oh, there’s one other brilliant aspect to this trip. We’re going in December, in the lead up to Christmas – which is my favourite time of year. There will be Christmas markets and actual religious references (novelty value!), and I won’t have to listen to everyone hating on Christmas, (ugh, so many parties, have to buy presents, have to eat delicious food, everything looks pretty, grumble grumble grumble), because they’ll be doing it in Italian!

I spent sunny Sunday at the zoo celebrating Ryan’s 2nd birthday. The conversation might have led bystanders to believe that we were actually a gathering of the local Poo Appreciation Society – except that every other kid in the place was talking about poo too. Miles suggested that the giraffe was due for a nappy change.

Sorry, I have no idea what kind of bird this is

An echidna

Birthday cake

Birthday presents

Feel like sharing a few good things on a cosy, got-a-cold/watching-TV Sunday night (after a sunny day at the zoo).

1. United States of Tara. It took a few episodes to warm up but now that we’re about 6 episodes in I can’t wait for Wednesday night. I told one of my friends in Bangkok about it and she hadn’t heard of it, so in case UST is not on the telly wherever you are, I reckon you could track down a DVD and not be disappointed.

2. Revisiting albums from a few years ago. After dinner at Josh’s the other night, with some Aimee Mann on the CD player, I’ve been revisiting the Magnolia soundtrack this week and boy I love it. It’s one of my favourite albums of allllll time (whatever that means) but often I forget to listen to it because I’m listening to something new.

3. Camy Shanghai. Ugh, going to Camy Shangai for dumplings the other night could have been a terribly sad experience. It’s gone a bit funny in the last couple of years since becoming the ultimate Melbourne ’secret’ cliche. Now, the waiters all yell at you Australian slang, they have beer ads on every available surface and the crowd was objectively awful – but the food was exactly the same deliciousness and exactly the same price. Three of us, loads of food, three beers = $30.

****

Today I was crossing the road and a man whispered something under is breath and then, “biffo!” he whacked my shoulder with his shoulder! Weird.