I've never had such mixed feelings after a federal election. My whole adult voting life has been dominated by John Howard; this is the first election since I first put pen to ballot paper where the days after haven't been spent thinking "Oh, great. Another three years of this". But along with feelings of joy of finally seeing the back of Mr Howard, I've been feeling rather storm-tossed about the number of bitter Liberal voters who have already flooded talkback, online forums and feedback sections and letters to the editor with various predictions of skyrocketing interest rates, record unemployment and general doom - not to mention the personal slag-offs (just check out the right-wing nutbags commenting at news.com.au on an hourly basis; counting down the minutes until the inevitable Rudd-led Apocalypse).
I am very pleased to see a change of government. At the most basic, selfish end of things, it means a change of scene at work - with different politicians to question, different policies to contend with, different angles on stories. On a wider level, I want to see an Australia not quite so obsessed with personal financial gain as it currently is. Now this is not me yelling "Up the revolution and bring on the Great Socialist Experiment, Julia, you fiery-haired Marxist vixen!". On the contrary - I admire people who make money, who prove successful in their personal and business ventures, provide opportunities for others, and help build Australia's reputation as a land of innovators and hard workers.
But I don't want them to think they're superior human beings, and that's how I feel the Coalition government treated them. There are many reasons why I totally loathe some people (the ill-advised baby-name craze being number one), but our comparative wages is not one of them. There are some people who despite all the good intentions they might have, do not have the education, financial backing or support to make the big dollars. They are not any less valuable to our country than those running multi-million dollar businesses. At the end of the day, issues like peak oil, climate change and crime confront us all, and we'll need everybody pitching in to deal with them.
I can't quite express myself as elegantly as I'd like, so instead I'll point you in the direction of a couple of great articles that really sum up how I'm feeling at the end of our first week in the New Era:
"Why it's great to see him go" and "The party's over..."
Nov 30, 2007
Nov 26, 2007
Geeks in da house
Because this is how geeks roll, y'all.
(Courtesy of my new laptop's shiny webcam...)
(Courtesy of my new laptop's shiny webcam...)
Nov 24, 2007
What's that sound?
... I think it's a string quartet playing "Nearer My God to Thee"... as the Good Ship Liberal goes down, apparently with the captain onboard...
There's obviously some excited Labor supporters around here because there are fireworks going off all around my street. God knows how they got their hands on them. Sparkler bombs, probably.
I've been skipping around Seven, Nine and the ABC to watch their various election coverages. How funny is Kerry O'Brien, getting the shits with all the Seven lackeys yelling and cheering at every opportunity. He gave the other TV stations a serve for putting showbiz ahead of serious analytical coverage. Then he got shouted down again, because apparently the Chaser boys showed up and had the crowd going great guns. Wasn't that upset about that one. Onya, Kerry!
I love Channel Seven's "Tower of Power". Election coverage really is just all about the graphics, isn't it? I'm also loving the looks on the Libs/Nats faces as they admit, "Well, we're in trouble here". A surprising understatement of the year from the parties predisposed to hyperbole.
And good to see Channel Ten just saying, "Ah, f*** it, just run with The Empire Strikes Back". Although, could that be a metaphor? I always though Phillip Ruddock was Emperor Palpatine...
So despite the excitement I think I'm going to have to chuff off to bed as I have another 4am start and it's going to be a busy day... welcome to the Brave New World, Australia. It's going to be one hell of a ride!
There's obviously some excited Labor supporters around here because there are fireworks going off all around my street. God knows how they got their hands on them. Sparkler bombs, probably.
I've been skipping around Seven, Nine and the ABC to watch their various election coverages. How funny is Kerry O'Brien, getting the shits with all the Seven lackeys yelling and cheering at every opportunity. He gave the other TV stations a serve for putting showbiz ahead of serious analytical coverage. Then he got shouted down again, because apparently the Chaser boys showed up and had the crowd going great guns. Wasn't that upset about that one. Onya, Kerry!
I love Channel Seven's "Tower of Power". Election coverage really is just all about the graphics, isn't it? I'm also loving the looks on the Libs/Nats faces as they admit, "Well, we're in trouble here". A surprising understatement of the year from the parties predisposed to hyperbole.
And good to see Channel Ten just saying, "Ah, f*** it, just run with The Empire Strikes Back". Although, could that be a metaphor? I always though Phillip Ruddock was Emperor Palpatine...
So despite the excitement I think I'm going to have to chuff off to bed as I have another 4am start and it's going to be a busy day... welcome to the Brave New World, Australia. It's going to be one hell of a ride!
Nov 22, 2007
We interrupt this whatever for some politics...
... because apparently, politicians have now decided that if you can't beat The Chaser - join 'em.
That's right, those howlingly funny Liberal tricksters in the Sydney seat of Lindsay decided to launch their own election prank on voters - distributing bogus flyers purportedly from a group called "Islamic Australia Federation", urging people to vote Labor because they support the Bali bombers and back construction of a controversial mosque.
Now I could be mind-bogglingly outraged by this insidious and nasty play on race and religion intended to divide a community for short term political gain. I could follow the likes of Channel Nine political commentator Laurie Oaks, who gave those involved a giant serve on the 11 o'clock news this morning.
But what really gets my goat, what really boils my stew, what really gets me in a hump of lovely lady lumps - is that this is the Liberals' idea of a joke. The suggestion appears to be that the Liberals are a bunch of highly-intelligent satirists with a sardonic wit dryer than John Clarke's - and we're all just too thick to get their incisive political commentary.
Current member Jackie Kelly - who's conveniently retiring at this election, and whose husband is implicated in the dodgy pamphlet drop - this morning described it as a Chaser-style prank, apparently with a completely straight face. What next? John Howard drops the c-bomb then says "Well, they say it on Newstopia!"?
At what point are the Liberals going to realise that as a party, they don't do satire? They are a strictly ABC 6:30pm timeslot affair. Remember the old British sitcoms they used to show before the news, usually starring Penelope Keith, or perhaps Patricia Routledge? I can just imagine Mr Howard rolling in his chair at the wacky antics of Hyacinth Bucket ("It's pronounced 'Bouquet", Janette!"), or Tony Abbott applauding plucky Felicity Kendall in The Good Life. Sure, there's a lot of feel-good stuff there, but hardly razor-sharp satirical comedy.
Supposedly Peter Costello's a big fan of Get Smart, but I am yet to hear him pull out a "Would you believe... it's been a giant cock-up?" The only thing they could lay claim to is that this whole episode sounds like it could be something out of Yes, Prime Minister, but somehow I don't think they'd take that as a compliment.
So while you're weighing up your options at the ballot box on Saturday; while you're carefully considering each party's commitment to the environment, infrastructure, education, industrial relations, interest rates, the war in Iraq and fighting the zombie scourge - please don't forget about comedy. In this time of global tumult, we all need a good laugh - and we need somebody in charge who knows what good humour is.
Of course, neither of the major parties can claim the title "King of Comedy". That surely must go to Pauline Hanson, who's current tilt for a Senate seat - and the possibility people might support her - is surely the biggest joke of all.
That's right, those howlingly funny Liberal tricksters in the Sydney seat of Lindsay decided to launch their own election prank on voters - distributing bogus flyers purportedly from a group called "Islamic Australia Federation", urging people to vote Labor because they support the Bali bombers and back construction of a controversial mosque.
Now I could be mind-bogglingly outraged by this insidious and nasty play on race and religion intended to divide a community for short term political gain. I could follow the likes of Channel Nine political commentator Laurie Oaks, who gave those involved a giant serve on the 11 o'clock news this morning.
But what really gets my goat, what really boils my stew, what really gets me in a hump of lovely lady lumps - is that this is the Liberals' idea of a joke. The suggestion appears to be that the Liberals are a bunch of highly-intelligent satirists with a sardonic wit dryer than John Clarke's - and we're all just too thick to get their incisive political commentary.
Current member Jackie Kelly - who's conveniently retiring at this election, and whose husband is implicated in the dodgy pamphlet drop - this morning described it as a Chaser-style prank, apparently with a completely straight face. What next? John Howard drops the c-bomb then says "Well, they say it on Newstopia!"?
At what point are the Liberals going to realise that as a party, they don't do satire? They are a strictly ABC 6:30pm timeslot affair. Remember the old British sitcoms they used to show before the news, usually starring Penelope Keith, or perhaps Patricia Routledge? I can just imagine Mr Howard rolling in his chair at the wacky antics of Hyacinth Bucket ("It's pronounced 'Bouquet", Janette!"), or Tony Abbott applauding plucky Felicity Kendall in The Good Life. Sure, there's a lot of feel-good stuff there, but hardly razor-sharp satirical comedy.
Supposedly Peter Costello's a big fan of Get Smart, but I am yet to hear him pull out a "Would you believe... it's been a giant cock-up?" The only thing they could lay claim to is that this whole episode sounds like it could be something out of Yes, Prime Minister, but somehow I don't think they'd take that as a compliment.
So while you're weighing up your options at the ballot box on Saturday; while you're carefully considering each party's commitment to the environment, infrastructure, education, industrial relations, interest rates, the war in Iraq and fighting the zombie scourge - please don't forget about comedy. In this time of global tumult, we all need a good laugh - and we need somebody in charge who knows what good humour is.
Of course, neither of the major parties can claim the title "King of Comedy". That surely must go to Pauline Hanson, who's current tilt for a Senate seat - and the possibility people might support her - is surely the biggest joke of all.
Nov 18, 2007
Sea-lions
I've been having trouble all week with uploading videos to YouTube, and Blogger's new video upload function doesn't appear to like me at all. So hopefully these short vids will work. They feature some awfully adorable animals and it would be a shame not to be able to watch with hands clasped in rapture.
These Australian sea-lions live in and around Seal Bay on Kangaroo Island. It's the only place in Australia where you can go onto the beach with them. Here's a big bull giving a youngster what-for:
It's pup season at the moment, and the females look after their pups for the first 18 months. Most remain on shore during the days when their Mums are off swimming and fishing. This little guy had obviously been temporarily orphaned:
Hopefully I can work out the kinks in various video upload services and bring some fur-seal and dolphin action to you soon. Kangaroo Island is all that and a packet of chips when it comes to raw natural beauty!
These Australian sea-lions live in and around Seal Bay on Kangaroo Island. It's the only place in Australia where you can go onto the beach with them. Here's a big bull giving a youngster what-for:
It's pup season at the moment, and the females look after their pups for the first 18 months. Most remain on shore during the days when their Mums are off swimming and fishing. This little guy had obviously been temporarily orphaned:
Hopefully I can work out the kinks in various video upload services and bring some fur-seal and dolphin action to you soon. Kangaroo Island is all that and a packet of chips when it comes to raw natural beauty!
Nov 15, 2007
Flashpacking
Ahoy hoy from Adelaide!
It's been a lovely day wandering about the city. I have just logged on and have about 20 minutes left on my $2's worth of wireless access. So here's a quick photo of me, to prove I'm here. This is in front of the clock tower of the Glenelg Town Hall:
I met up with the other three backpacker publication writers - we're all doing different things in our time here so it was nice to meet up. There was Chris from Scotland, Andy from England and Nikki from New York. Also present was Suzanne from SA Tourism, who's originally from Germany. So I was the only Aussie-born. We were like a walking comedy routine - "An Englishman, an American, a Scot, a German and an Aussie walk into an organic pizza restaurant..." And typically, I was the most ungraceful at dinner, even dropping some of the salad into Chris' glass of water at one point. Luckily he was drinking Coronas, so I don't think he noticed.
This is my first trip as a so-called "Flashpacker" - a teched-up backpacker. So far it's going well - but I think I will leave my laptop here at the YHA when I go to Kangaroo Island tomorrow - they will lock it up for me and I fear accidentally dropping it into the sea or something... ;)
Anyway, must be off to bed - I have to be up at 6am!
It's been a lovely day wandering about the city. I have just logged on and have about 20 minutes left on my $2's worth of wireless access. So here's a quick photo of me, to prove I'm here. This is in front of the clock tower of the Glenelg Town Hall:
I met up with the other three backpacker publication writers - we're all doing different things in our time here so it was nice to meet up. There was Chris from Scotland, Andy from England and Nikki from New York. Also present was Suzanne from SA Tourism, who's originally from Germany. So I was the only Aussie-born. We were like a walking comedy routine - "An Englishman, an American, a Scot, a German and an Aussie walk into an organic pizza restaurant..." And typically, I was the most ungraceful at dinner, even dropping some of the salad into Chris' glass of water at one point. Luckily he was drinking Coronas, so I don't think he noticed.
This is my first trip as a so-called "Flashpacker" - a teched-up backpacker. So far it's going well - but I think I will leave my laptop here at the YHA when I go to Kangaroo Island tomorrow - they will lock it up for me and I fear accidentally dropping it into the sea or something... ;)
Anyway, must be off to bed - I have to be up at 6am!
Nov 14, 2007
Feeling sheepish
I took my as-yet-still-unnamed lap top with me to work today, as I thought it might come in handy covering the ALP official campaign launch, which I knew I would be rostered on to cover. I'd been told the media room had WiFi access, and I was dead keen to try out my remote connection and new audio editing software.
However, it turned out that the network's Canberra bureau chief Alison Carabine had stuck around after the big Coalition love-in on Monday, and would be doing the mainstream coverage inside. My role would be to file a "colour" story - ie, to stand outside with the protesters and record their crazy chants as the federal and state Labor bigwigs (not to mention all of those scary union thugs we keep hearing about) arrived. Standing outside the Lyric Theatre with mic, recorder, cables, phone, notebook and pen in hand wasn't exactly conducive to high-powered portable P.C. work, so I left the laptop safely in the padded section of my kit bag.
All in all, the protest was a bit disappointing. The most vocal were a bunch of Young Nationals, led by one of the Queensland senate candidates, who chanted an amusing ditty about the danger of having across the board Labor governments. Their bright red T-shirts were certainly eye-catching, but were unfortunately the exact same shade as the shirts being worn by all the Young Labor kids working as ushers, causing a few smirks among some of the journos. At least they still had their perky green-and-yellow Nationals caps, which matched the colours of their funky VW van. Because the Young Nationals are Hip and Cool, don't you know.
They only chanted whenever somebody Important arrived, and even then about the biggest it got was Peter Garrett, who was confronted with a banner of his own face beside his now-infamous "joke" to broadcaster Steve Price: "Once we get in, we'll change it all". I sometimes wonder what happens to these banners post-election. I mean, they can hardly re-use that, can they? A banner reading "Labor sux, Libs rule, dude!" will always work, but gosh, surely there's a couple of hundred bucks that could've bought some textbooks for school kiddies or something.
Premier Anna Bligh apparently slipped in the back way, and all the major True Believers were already inside (Rudd apparently rehearsing some speech changes that caused a half hour delay in proceedings). Outside the only other group presence was the Disability Alliance, who had also been at the Coalition launch two days prior. According to their spokesperson, they don't really care who gets in, as long as funding for the disabled gets boosted by at least 20 per cent. But interestingly, he did say that today's events were far more pleasant than Monday's - apparently many arriving Coalition supporters had yelled "Get a job!" and "What about the rights of business?" at they walked past the people in wheelchairs. Charming stuff, politics.
And finally, there was this guy:
The mandatory PETA activist, demanding an end to live animal exports. This was the only shot I managed to get before my camera's battery died. I just love his/her nonchalant stance - the sheep had been running around waving the placard, but the pleasant day was obviously much warmer when experienced from inside a polyester ram suit, so rest breaks were needed.
I joked with a couple of journos about how much fun it would be if the Chaser mob rocked up with some comedy hijinks and shenanigans. But if they were around, they had the good sense to avoid the arrival area, more's the pity. We could have done with some controversy!
By 12:30pm, it was all over. The Nats packed up their banners and spare t-shirts and headed back to their funky van. The Disability Alliance members went back to their bus and cars. I last saw the sheep, still in full costume, making its way towards the Southbank foodcourt with a blonde companion. It was most likely a PETA handler, but I like to think the sheep picked up. Oh, yeah.
As for Rudd himself - I watched his speech in air-conditioned comfort back at the office, before heading out to police headquarters for a media conference about a 56-year-old woman who was scammed out of $47 000 by a Nigerian man she met on an internet dating site. But that's a whole other story....
However, it turned out that the network's Canberra bureau chief Alison Carabine had stuck around after the big Coalition love-in on Monday, and would be doing the mainstream coverage inside. My role would be to file a "colour" story - ie, to stand outside with the protesters and record their crazy chants as the federal and state Labor bigwigs (not to mention all of those scary union thugs we keep hearing about) arrived. Standing outside the Lyric Theatre with mic, recorder, cables, phone, notebook and pen in hand wasn't exactly conducive to high-powered portable P.C. work, so I left the laptop safely in the padded section of my kit bag.
All in all, the protest was a bit disappointing. The most vocal were a bunch of Young Nationals, led by one of the Queensland senate candidates, who chanted an amusing ditty about the danger of having across the board Labor governments. Their bright red T-shirts were certainly eye-catching, but were unfortunately the exact same shade as the shirts being worn by all the Young Labor kids working as ushers, causing a few smirks among some of the journos. At least they still had their perky green-and-yellow Nationals caps, which matched the colours of their funky VW van. Because the Young Nationals are Hip and Cool, don't you know.
They only chanted whenever somebody Important arrived, and even then about the biggest it got was Peter Garrett, who was confronted with a banner of his own face beside his now-infamous "joke" to broadcaster Steve Price: "Once we get in, we'll change it all". I sometimes wonder what happens to these banners post-election. I mean, they can hardly re-use that, can they? A banner reading "Labor sux, Libs rule, dude!" will always work, but gosh, surely there's a couple of hundred bucks that could've bought some textbooks for school kiddies or something.
Premier Anna Bligh apparently slipped in the back way, and all the major True Believers were already inside (Rudd apparently rehearsing some speech changes that caused a half hour delay in proceedings). Outside the only other group presence was the Disability Alliance, who had also been at the Coalition launch two days prior. According to their spokesperson, they don't really care who gets in, as long as funding for the disabled gets boosted by at least 20 per cent. But interestingly, he did say that today's events were far more pleasant than Monday's - apparently many arriving Coalition supporters had yelled "Get a job!" and "What about the rights of business?" at they walked past the people in wheelchairs. Charming stuff, politics.
And finally, there was this guy:
The mandatory PETA activist, demanding an end to live animal exports. This was the only shot I managed to get before my camera's battery died. I just love his/her nonchalant stance - the sheep had been running around waving the placard, but the pleasant day was obviously much warmer when experienced from inside a polyester ram suit, so rest breaks were needed.
I joked with a couple of journos about how much fun it would be if the Chaser mob rocked up with some comedy hijinks and shenanigans. But if they were around, they had the good sense to avoid the arrival area, more's the pity. We could have done with some controversy!
By 12:30pm, it was all over. The Nats packed up their banners and spare t-shirts and headed back to their funky van. The Disability Alliance members went back to their bus and cars. I last saw the sheep, still in full costume, making its way towards the Southbank foodcourt with a blonde companion. It was most likely a PETA handler, but I like to think the sheep picked up. Oh, yeah.
As for Rudd himself - I watched his speech in air-conditioned comfort back at the office, before heading out to police headquarters for a media conference about a 56-year-old woman who was scammed out of $47 000 by a Nigerian man she met on an internet dating site. But that's a whole other story....
Fez: Past and Present
This time last year The Wah and I were chillaxing across Morocco - a wonderful, unforgettable three-week component of our rocking five months abroad.
I wrote at the time of my visit to a local hammam (bathhouse) in Fez, the ancient capital of the country and to most still its spiritual heart. It was one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life; and it obviously struck a chord with others. Now regular Clumsy-reader Rastas passed word on to writers, journalists, photographers and all-round creative wunderkids Sandy McCutcheon and Suzanna Clarke - who run the informative and entertaining blog The View From Fez - and they posted links to my site.
This couple's story is inspiring - after a visit to Morocco in 2002, during which they fell in love with the country, they decided to buy an old house in the Fez medina and restore it to its former glory. This was by no means an easy feat; getting the skills and equipment necessary to rebuild a riad that was basically falling to pieces took them many years and dollars. But it is now all but complete, and Suzanna has written a marvellous book entitled "A House in Fez", which details not only the renovation, but the life in the ancient city itself.
Suzanne came into 4BC a few Saturdays ago to talk about the book; however I was busy in the newsroom and missed a chance to say hello. However Tahn, the afternoon show producer, asked if I wanted to go to the official "A House in Fez" book launch this Friday just gone. I was delighted; and we agreed to meet up. I figured being featured on their blog site might give me a good excuse to introduce myself. I even took along the green sparkly scarf I bought in the Fez medina to use as a potential talking point.
I rocked up to the gallery on Arthur Street in the Valley to meet Tahn, and was confronted by a groovy exotic space full of artefacts both Australian and from abroad. Luscious silk scarves, hand-carved wooden furniture, jewellery etc. Susanna's photographs of their riad and the Fez medina itself adorned the walls, and looked stunning.
I had a suspicion Rastas might be there, and he arrived not long after I arrived. He actually introduced me to Sandy McCutheon, who's a great character and raconteur. I did make a typical Clumsy-esque mistake though; I knew Sandy was a published author but I'm afraid to say I hadn't fully done my research and didn't know the exact volume of Sandy's output. I made a comment along the lines of "What is your book called?", which met the reply of "Which one?". Oops. Turns out Sandy's written seven novels, a memoir, a children's book, 22 plays, and all manner of literary articles. Yikes. Still, better to be thought a hopeless amateur from the start!
Sandy gave a lovely speech introducing Suzanna's book, then threw to (of all people) Judge Ian Dearden, who sang a sweet folk song for Suzanna. Who would've thought - one of the state's most prominent Civil Liberties proponents and a respected District Court judge - a crooning, guitar-playing balladeer? I love finding stuff like that out about people. Suzanna then launched the book, regaling the crowd with more stories of the trials of getting things done in a country so completely different than your own.
Unfortunately I didn't get to meet Suzanna, as she was caught up signing books, and I thought shoving my scarf under her nose might be a tad intrusive. But Sandy is now a Facebook friend, so hopefully I will get to meet he and Suzanna again soon.
I'd never been to a book launch before, and it really was a fun experience. It's lovely to find these pockets of interesting, creative, vibrant people - who most certainly exist in Brisbane but are sometimes forgotten while the rugby league's on or the weather's good for swimming. It's a reminder I should get out there and meet more people, expand my circle of contacts and draw on the knowledge and experience to enrich my own life and creative endeavours.
Thanks to Tahn for the invite, Rastas for being good company, Sandy for being so charming, and most of all Suzanna for writing a gorgeous book (complete with beautiful photographs), that took
me back to that crazy city I first saw, ironically, one year ago.
I highly recommend you read it!
I wrote at the time of my visit to a local hammam (bathhouse) in Fez, the ancient capital of the country and to most still its spiritual heart. It was one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life; and it obviously struck a chord with others. Now regular Clumsy-reader Rastas passed word on to writers, journalists, photographers and all-round creative wunderkids Sandy McCutcheon and Suzanna Clarke - who run the informative and entertaining blog The View From Fez - and they posted links to my site.
This couple's story is inspiring - after a visit to Morocco in 2002, during which they fell in love with the country, they decided to buy an old house in the Fez medina and restore it to its former glory. This was by no means an easy feat; getting the skills and equipment necessary to rebuild a riad that was basically falling to pieces took them many years and dollars. But it is now all but complete, and Suzanna has written a marvellous book entitled "A House in Fez", which details not only the renovation, but the life in the ancient city itself.
Suzanne came into 4BC a few Saturdays ago to talk about the book; however I was busy in the newsroom and missed a chance to say hello. However Tahn, the afternoon show producer, asked if I wanted to go to the official "A House in Fez" book launch this Friday just gone. I was delighted; and we agreed to meet up. I figured being featured on their blog site might give me a good excuse to introduce myself. I even took along the green sparkly scarf I bought in the Fez medina to use as a potential talking point.
I rocked up to the gallery on Arthur Street in the Valley to meet Tahn, and was confronted by a groovy exotic space full of artefacts both Australian and from abroad. Luscious silk scarves, hand-carved wooden furniture, jewellery etc. Susanna's photographs of their riad and the Fez medina itself adorned the walls, and looked stunning.
I had a suspicion Rastas might be there, and he arrived not long after I arrived. He actually introduced me to Sandy McCutheon, who's a great character and raconteur. I did make a typical Clumsy-esque mistake though; I knew Sandy was a published author but I'm afraid to say I hadn't fully done my research and didn't know the exact volume of Sandy's output. I made a comment along the lines of "What is your book called?", which met the reply of "Which one?". Oops. Turns out Sandy's written seven novels, a memoir, a children's book, 22 plays, and all manner of literary articles. Yikes. Still, better to be thought a hopeless amateur from the start!
Sandy gave a lovely speech introducing Suzanna's book, then threw to (of all people) Judge Ian Dearden, who sang a sweet folk song for Suzanna. Who would've thought - one of the state's most prominent Civil Liberties proponents and a respected District Court judge - a crooning, guitar-playing balladeer? I love finding stuff like that out about people. Suzanna then launched the book, regaling the crowd with more stories of the trials of getting things done in a country so completely different than your own.
Unfortunately I didn't get to meet Suzanna, as she was caught up signing books, and I thought shoving my scarf under her nose might be a tad intrusive. But Sandy is now a Facebook friend, so hopefully I will get to meet he and Suzanna again soon.
I'd never been to a book launch before, and it really was a fun experience. It's lovely to find these pockets of interesting, creative, vibrant people - who most certainly exist in Brisbane but are sometimes forgotten while the rugby league's on or the weather's good for swimming. It's a reminder I should get out there and meet more people, expand my circle of contacts and draw on the knowledge and experience to enrich my own life and creative endeavours.
Thanks to Tahn for the invite, Rastas for being good company, Sandy for being so charming, and most of all Suzanna for writing a gorgeous book (complete with beautiful photographs), that took
me back to that crazy city I first saw, ironically, one year ago.
I highly recommend you read it!
Nov 9, 2007
Introducing.... ?
Ladies and gentlemen of the Clumsy-verse!
This post is coming to you from the sleek, black keys of my brand new lap top computer. Yay!
After all the confusion, I'm very happy with my choice: this HP Pavilion Special Edition. It is spec'd up the wazoo, not to mention being very easy on the eye (because I'm a girl, and damnnit, that's important).
In the end, price and specs ended up being the most important factors. To get the same specs in a Mac, I would have had to go for a MacBook Pro, which would have been at least another $1000. I think this computer will give me several good years of use, with space to expand my horizons. Windows Vista also seems to be ticking along nicely; and on my shiny, glossy new screen everything is a joy to look at. It even has this somewhat unnecessary yet totally groovy fingerprint recognition device. Best of all, it has the tick of approval from the two resident Chez Clumsy geeks, The Wah and Taity, so it must be worth all the drama!
I would take a photo to show you, but I need to clear out my camera's memory card.
Taity did take a photo of me opening the computer for the first time, but unfortunately I look like a tank. Having now indulged in electronic goodness, I've decided on two things:
1) I need to keep motivated to write more, to earn more money through freelance work to pay off the lap top, and;
2) I need to eat less junk and move more.
Stay tuned for updates on both.
The only thing now is to perhaps pick a name for my new computer. It's currently called "Girl Clumsy-PC", which is a tad boring. For some reason, when thinking of a name, "Bessie" popped into my mind, which while sweet is perhaps more suited to a pet cow. The Wah suggested "Xena: Warrior Laptop", which, I must admit, is pretty rocking. Taity even suggested "Mack", for a bit of a laugh, if nothing else.
But what do you guys think? Anyone want to chime in with a name? I'm open to suggestions, and will try to do something nice for whoever suggests the most appropriate moniker!
This post is coming to you from the sleek, black keys of my brand new lap top computer. Yay!
After all the confusion, I'm very happy with my choice: this HP Pavilion Special Edition. It is spec'd up the wazoo, not to mention being very easy on the eye (because I'm a girl, and damnnit, that's important).
In the end, price and specs ended up being the most important factors. To get the same specs in a Mac, I would have had to go for a MacBook Pro, which would have been at least another $1000. I think this computer will give me several good years of use, with space to expand my horizons. Windows Vista also seems to be ticking along nicely; and on my shiny, glossy new screen everything is a joy to look at. It even has this somewhat unnecessary yet totally groovy fingerprint recognition device. Best of all, it has the tick of approval from the two resident Chez Clumsy geeks, The Wah and Taity, so it must be worth all the drama!
I would take a photo to show you, but I need to clear out my camera's memory card.
Taity did take a photo of me opening the computer for the first time, but unfortunately I look like a tank. Having now indulged in electronic goodness, I've decided on two things:
1) I need to keep motivated to write more, to earn more money through freelance work to pay off the lap top, and;
2) I need to eat less junk and move more.
Stay tuned for updates on both.
The only thing now is to perhaps pick a name for my new computer. It's currently called "Girl Clumsy-PC", which is a tad boring. For some reason, when thinking of a name, "Bessie" popped into my mind, which while sweet is perhaps more suited to a pet cow. The Wah suggested "Xena: Warrior Laptop", which, I must admit, is pretty rocking. Taity even suggested "Mack", for a bit of a laugh, if nothing else.
But what do you guys think? Anyone want to chime in with a name? I'm open to suggestions, and will try to do something nice for whoever suggests the most appropriate moniker!
Nov 5, 2007
Destination: City of Churches
I have some terribly exciting news, so please everyone kick back, take a load off and crack open a beer while I indulge in a fairly indulgent self-congratulatory ego-boost.
A few posts back, I put up links to the YHA's Backpacker Essentials site; the online version of the organisation's quarterly magazine. I highly recommend people check it out, as it was the first magazine to publish me. ;) An article I wrote on the Trans-Mongolian Railway was published in the July issue, and I just had stories on Krakow and Auschwitz-Birkenau published in the November issue.
Last Friday, the editor emailed me and asked -
....get this...
.... no seriously, this is awesome -
... if I wanted to go to South Australia on a four-day all-expenses paid trip to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island, in anticipation of writing a feature on said destinations!
!!!
The catch was the trip is next week, and I had to quickly arrange some time off work, but bless his soul, my boss agreed, so now it is all official: I, Girl Clumsy - ne'er-do-well and expert procrastinator - amgoing on a travel writing expedition! As far as I can tell, there'll be three other journos along for the ride. We'll spend two night savouring the fine city of Adelaide, before heading out for the wilds of Kangaroo Island (where ironically I believe the dominant marsupial these days is the koala, thanks to no natural enemy and viagra in the eucalypts).
I'm so excited - this makes me feel like I might have more credibility in describing myself as a "burgeoning travel writer". Hooray!
Now this makes the lap top decision even more pressing - I just feel like I need to be one of those annoying people who works on their screenplay during the flight!
A few posts back, I put up links to the YHA's Backpacker Essentials site; the online version of the organisation's quarterly magazine. I highly recommend people check it out, as it was the first magazine to publish me. ;) An article I wrote on the Trans-Mongolian Railway was published in the July issue, and I just had stories on Krakow and Auschwitz-Birkenau published in the November issue.
Last Friday, the editor emailed me and asked -
....get this...
.... no seriously, this is awesome -
... if I wanted to go to South Australia on a four-day all-expenses paid trip to Adelaide and Kangaroo Island, in anticipation of writing a feature on said destinations!
!!!
The catch was the trip is next week, and I had to quickly arrange some time off work, but bless his soul, my boss agreed, so now it is all official: I, Girl Clumsy - ne'er-do-well and expert procrastinator - amgoing on a travel writing expedition! As far as I can tell, there'll be three other journos along for the ride. We'll spend two night savouring the fine city of Adelaide, before heading out for the wilds of Kangaroo Island (where ironically I believe the dominant marsupial these days is the koala, thanks to no natural enemy and viagra in the eucalypts).
I'm so excited - this makes me feel like I might have more credibility in describing myself as a "burgeoning travel writer". Hooray!
Now this makes the lap top decision even more pressing - I just feel like I need to be one of those annoying people who works on their screenplay during the flight!
Nov 3, 2007
Nov 2, 2007
A Weekend in Melbourne
Part 1: Flight of Girl Clumsy
I had been aware that the installation of traffic lights on Brisbane's Airport Drive roundabout had turned it into a sphere of hell that wouldn't be out of place in Dante's Inferno. But until last Friday, I had yet to fully experience the fire and brimstone myself. The chock-a-block traffic along the Toombul Road/Nudgee Road intersection - combined with rain - conspired to have me arrive at the Virgin Blue check-in counter just nine minutes before my scheduled flight. My relief at actually checking in was short-lived, as it transpired I had been placed on a broken seat, and for safety reasons would have to be bumped to the 4pm flight. Thankfully it was at no additional cost - but that didn't stop me breaking down in tears and exclaiming, "But I can't be late, someone is picking me up!". With dignity lost and mascara smudged, I consoled myself with some overpriced airport chips until it was time to board.
The flight was relatively uneventful, except for the fact I somehow managed to get a sunburn down my right arm. No wonder I never choose a window seat. I arrived at Melbourne Airport just after 6:30pm, and grabbed a cab from outside. It was a dreary, cold afternoon in Melbourne, and the drive through the city's outskirts, past the industrial and port areas, wasn't the best first impression. The $60 cab fare also unsurprisingly failed to make me smile. But that situation was remedied when I was met by Sean from Impro Melbourne, and rushed into the backstage area of Theatreworks on Acland Street in St Kilda to meet my fellow players.
A quick retouch of the aforementioned runny mascara, and I was thrust onstage to perform in an impro jam, the first part of a three-part night of improvised comedy stylings. After all the emotion of the afternoon, it was probably best that I didn't have time to be nervous before the show, thus freeing me from self-doubt and second-guessing.
After the second half "Gorilla" show, and then the marvellous "Mr Fish and His Spooky Library of Improv Macabre" climax, the players - including those from interstate locations such as Sydney and Canberra as well as Alex, my fellow Briz Vegan - headed out to Crown Casino to play laser tag in the complex's large video game arcade. I declined, having spent most of my cash on the cab ride in, and needing the rest of the cash for a cab ride out to Kew, to the home of my dear friend Carol, who had graciously agreed to put me up for the weekend. Upon arrival, I desparately asked for a sandwich, having eaten lollies and Maltesers for dinner. Carol and I chatted until 3am, before finally agreeing bed was probably a good idea.
Part 2: Girl Clumsy - Art Collector
A sleep in was much appreciated, by but lunch time Carol and I were on the number 16 tram, enjoying the fine warm weather, and heading for Armadale and an art gallery featuring an exhibition of work from and inspired by the cartoon Family Guy, paired with works from The Simpsons and Futurama. The Wah had put me onto the exhibition, but I don't think he expected me to fall in love with an art-deco style print of the New New York Municipal Spaceport, and shell out close to $700 for the limited edition (number 72 of 100 in the world) work. I certainly surprised myself, especially considering my "Scrooge"-ness and current parlous state of my credit card. But I absolutely adore it, and am sure it will look fabulous on my living room wall. I got to choose the frame, and arranged for it to be freighted up.
After a delicious gourmet sausage roll, Carol and I headed home. I ended up going for a nap due to a persistent headache that had refused to go away despite being hit with ibuprofen and paracetamol. Of course, my life being what it is, the nanna nap turned out to be more of a sleep of the dead, and I woke at 7pm sharp, thinking "oh, crap". Carol had been napping on the couch, dso the pair of us scrambled to get ready, and hailed a cab to take us back to St Kilda. After realising we would already have missed most of the first half jam, we decided to grab some pizza on Fitzroy Street instead. We got to the theatre, and I made it in with time to spare before the second half "Smells Like a Song" extended improvised musical. With ten people scheduled to perform, and not wanting to be an interstate usurper, I decided to hang back and play supporting characters. This resulted in me playing an optimistic yet somewhat murderous orphan, and a hippie couples counsellor (the story being about a recently-orphaned girl's struggle against the orphanage's terrifying head nun, Sister Bloody Mary, and the search by her barren relatives to find her). I didn't really know how well I played, and felt a bit weird asking for feedback amongst all the madness. If anybody reading this did see the show, please tell me I didn't suck!
Carol and I opted out of post-show drinkies, and stook on the windy St Kilda boulevard for over 20 minutes waiting for a tram. I like Melbourne, I really do, but I do have a chip on my shoulder about the city - mainly because I get sick of Brisbane people moving there then telling all and sundry how much more cultured and refined it is than Briz Vegas. Just shut up about it, all right? I mean, for crying out loud, Brisbane isn't THAT bad. Sure, we don't have as many cute cafes, the film and TV production or enthusiasm for theatre. But we also don't have the bone-chilling cold, the fricking poor driving, or as many Collingwood supporters. So fuck you.
Anyway, sorry, I got distracted. I get a little heated by all the inter-city rivalry, and the insuiation by some people that they're better than me because they live in Melbourne. As I said, chip, firmly in place on shoulder. But it was because of this attitude that, while standing on St Kilda boulevard, I was delighted to see large roving packs of drunken teenagers, many of the girls wearing outfits that while probably very fashionable, did suggest they were on the game. Young men scratching their balls, and creepy old dudes trying to make friends with the young 'uns (yes, I am suggesting sleazy drug dealers) were also on display. It's so good to know that Melbourne, as much as any city, has its bogans and its embarrassments.
Part 3: Time Travels, Picnics and a Spiegeltent
In another example of chronic forgetfulness, I failed to remember to change my clocks for daylight saving time - something that as a "backward" Queenslander I should be forgiven as a matter of course. Hence another rushed shower, and another cab fare to St Kilda for a workshop. As it turned out I should have just gotten the tram, as everyone was so hung over from the previous night, the workshop started an hour late, and only ran for an hour before the group energy failed.
We decided to head for Flagstaff Gardens, where the improvisers who had bypassed the workshop had set up a lovely barbeque for us. After two days of no proper meals, a few sausages in bread was as more wondrous to the taste buds than a fatted calf would have been to Henry VIII. Keira from Sydney and I wandered across the street to have a look around the Victoria Markets. I didn't buy anything - there wasn't much on offer and my pockets and wallet were empty after art splurging and numerous cab fares.
After the picnic packed up, I grabbed a lift back to the theatre, where preparations for that night's final show were beginning. There wasn't a lot for me to do, so I headed off on a wander of Acland Street. The clothing stores caught the eye, and the succulent cakes featured in the windows of the many fine cake shops along the street captivated my greedy stomach. I indulged in a creamy French Vanilla, but sadly I left the slice choc mint cake at the theatre and never got to sample its minty goodness.
To be honest, I would have to describe Sunday night's Theatresports show as the weakest of the three nights I saw, chiefly because of Impro Melbourne's obvious good intentions in wanting as many people as possible to play. But it lead to a somewhat confusing first half, with three different formats led by different people. I still enjoyed playing, but I think the show would have benefited from some streamlining, even if that meant cutting participants (including me!). The second half Theatreports challenge also suffered a bit from over-stuffing, but it was fun nonetheless.
After a post-show debrief, we all headed in to the Arts Centre, next to which was set up a "Speigeltent", otherwise known as a tent of mirrors. Before heading in, a few of the other players and I took off for a walk to Chinatown and some late night nosh. Back to the tent, and I was bewitched by the interior. I believe there's been a Spiegeltent set up in Brisbane in recent years, but by gosh it would be great to have a permanent venue like that. A round space with a stage at one end, a dance floor and tables in the middle, and booths along the outer rim, it's perfect for music, improv, cabaret or burlesque, or just generally chilling out. Sadly I didn't stay long, for after saying my goodbyes and thank yous to all the rocking Impro Melbourne people (and guests from Sydney and Canberra), I accepted a lift home to Kew from Sean.
Part 4: Homeward, Girl Clumsy
I woke early to say goodbye to Carol, who had to go to work and wouldn't finish until after I left for the airport. It was wonderful to see her again; she is honestly one of the smartest women I know, if not the smartest. I promised The Wah and I would come down for a proper visit again soon. Then I went back to bed, to be woken some hours later by Carol's daughter Amanda, whose job it was to keep me entertained all day. She had brought her nifty little HP laptop with her, which set us off on a mission to examine potential laptops for me all day. We also managed a stop in her favourite cafe, Bimbo on Brunswick Street, for $4 pizzas. Yummy. It had a lovely rooftop courtyard, and I could see why it would be popular, especially in pleasant weather like it was on Monday.
After getting thouroughly confused by the range of laptops and notebooks on offer, not to mention the increasinly bizarre "Cult of Apple", members of which seemed to come out of the woodwork to try to seduce me to the side of MacBook, we headed home so I could pick up my bag. Jenny from Impro Melbourne had very kindly offered to give me a lift to the airport, which I very much appreciated being fairly broke after the weekend. We had a great chat about all things improv on the way, then it off to the plane for me. I had the great pleasure of being on what I dubbed the "Stork Flight" - I had a baby next to me, a toddler in front of me and a baby across the aisle. I've never been so happy to own an mp3 player, I can tell you.
So that was my weekend in Melbourne. I'm sure I've left things out, but overall it was crazy fun. Thanks to everyone at Impro Melbourne for having me, Impro Mafia for sending me down, and to Carol and Amanda for being wonderful hosts. I'll be back soon...
I had been aware that the installation of traffic lights on Brisbane's Airport Drive roundabout had turned it into a sphere of hell that wouldn't be out of place in Dante's Inferno. But until last Friday, I had yet to fully experience the fire and brimstone myself. The chock-a-block traffic along the Toombul Road/Nudgee Road intersection - combined with rain - conspired to have me arrive at the Virgin Blue check-in counter just nine minutes before my scheduled flight. My relief at actually checking in was short-lived, as it transpired I had been placed on a broken seat, and for safety reasons would have to be bumped to the 4pm flight. Thankfully it was at no additional cost - but that didn't stop me breaking down in tears and exclaiming, "But I can't be late, someone is picking me up!". With dignity lost and mascara smudged, I consoled myself with some overpriced airport chips until it was time to board.
The flight was relatively uneventful, except for the fact I somehow managed to get a sunburn down my right arm. No wonder I never choose a window seat. I arrived at Melbourne Airport just after 6:30pm, and grabbed a cab from outside. It was a dreary, cold afternoon in Melbourne, and the drive through the city's outskirts, past the industrial and port areas, wasn't the best first impression. The $60 cab fare also unsurprisingly failed to make me smile. But that situation was remedied when I was met by Sean from Impro Melbourne, and rushed into the backstage area of Theatreworks on Acland Street in St Kilda to meet my fellow players.
A quick retouch of the aforementioned runny mascara, and I was thrust onstage to perform in an impro jam, the first part of a three-part night of improvised comedy stylings. After all the emotion of the afternoon, it was probably best that I didn't have time to be nervous before the show, thus freeing me from self-doubt and second-guessing.
After the second half "Gorilla" show, and then the marvellous "Mr Fish and His Spooky Library of Improv Macabre" climax, the players - including those from interstate locations such as Sydney and Canberra as well as Alex, my fellow Briz Vegan - headed out to Crown Casino to play laser tag in the complex's large video game arcade. I declined, having spent most of my cash on the cab ride in, and needing the rest of the cash for a cab ride out to Kew, to the home of my dear friend Carol, who had graciously agreed to put me up for the weekend. Upon arrival, I desparately asked for a sandwich, having eaten lollies and Maltesers for dinner. Carol and I chatted until 3am, before finally agreeing bed was probably a good idea.
Part 2: Girl Clumsy - Art Collector
A sleep in was much appreciated, by but lunch time Carol and I were on the number 16 tram, enjoying the fine warm weather, and heading for Armadale and an art gallery featuring an exhibition of work from and inspired by the cartoon Family Guy, paired with works from The Simpsons and Futurama. The Wah had put me onto the exhibition, but I don't think he expected me to fall in love with an art-deco style print of the New New York Municipal Spaceport, and shell out close to $700 for the limited edition (number 72 of 100 in the world) work. I certainly surprised myself, especially considering my "Scrooge"-ness and current parlous state of my credit card. But I absolutely adore it, and am sure it will look fabulous on my living room wall. I got to choose the frame, and arranged for it to be freighted up.
After a delicious gourmet sausage roll, Carol and I headed home. I ended up going for a nap due to a persistent headache that had refused to go away despite being hit with ibuprofen and paracetamol. Of course, my life being what it is, the nanna nap turned out to be more of a sleep of the dead, and I woke at 7pm sharp, thinking "oh, crap". Carol had been napping on the couch, dso the pair of us scrambled to get ready, and hailed a cab to take us back to St Kilda. After realising we would already have missed most of the first half jam, we decided to grab some pizza on Fitzroy Street instead. We got to the theatre, and I made it in with time to spare before the second half "Smells Like a Song" extended improvised musical. With ten people scheduled to perform, and not wanting to be an interstate usurper, I decided to hang back and play supporting characters. This resulted in me playing an optimistic yet somewhat murderous orphan, and a hippie couples counsellor (the story being about a recently-orphaned girl's struggle against the orphanage's terrifying head nun, Sister Bloody Mary, and the search by her barren relatives to find her). I didn't really know how well I played, and felt a bit weird asking for feedback amongst all the madness. If anybody reading this did see the show, please tell me I didn't suck!
Carol and I opted out of post-show drinkies, and stook on the windy St Kilda boulevard for over 20 minutes waiting for a tram. I like Melbourne, I really do, but I do have a chip on my shoulder about the city - mainly because I get sick of Brisbane people moving there then telling all and sundry how much more cultured and refined it is than Briz Vegas. Just shut up about it, all right? I mean, for crying out loud, Brisbane isn't THAT bad. Sure, we don't have as many cute cafes, the film and TV production or enthusiasm for theatre. But we also don't have the bone-chilling cold, the fricking poor driving, or as many Collingwood supporters. So fuck you.
Anyway, sorry, I got distracted. I get a little heated by all the inter-city rivalry, and the insuiation by some people that they're better than me because they live in Melbourne. As I said, chip, firmly in place on shoulder. But it was because of this attitude that, while standing on St Kilda boulevard, I was delighted to see large roving packs of drunken teenagers, many of the girls wearing outfits that while probably very fashionable, did suggest they were on the game. Young men scratching their balls, and creepy old dudes trying to make friends with the young 'uns (yes, I am suggesting sleazy drug dealers) were also on display. It's so good to know that Melbourne, as much as any city, has its bogans and its embarrassments.
Part 3: Time Travels, Picnics and a Spiegeltent
In another example of chronic forgetfulness, I failed to remember to change my clocks for daylight saving time - something that as a "backward" Queenslander I should be forgiven as a matter of course. Hence another rushed shower, and another cab fare to St Kilda for a workshop. As it turned out I should have just gotten the tram, as everyone was so hung over from the previous night, the workshop started an hour late, and only ran for an hour before the group energy failed.
We decided to head for Flagstaff Gardens, where the improvisers who had bypassed the workshop had set up a lovely barbeque for us. After two days of no proper meals, a few sausages in bread was as more wondrous to the taste buds than a fatted calf would have been to Henry VIII. Keira from Sydney and I wandered across the street to have a look around the Victoria Markets. I didn't buy anything - there wasn't much on offer and my pockets and wallet were empty after art splurging and numerous cab fares.
After the picnic packed up, I grabbed a lift back to the theatre, where preparations for that night's final show were beginning. There wasn't a lot for me to do, so I headed off on a wander of Acland Street. The clothing stores caught the eye, and the succulent cakes featured in the windows of the many fine cake shops along the street captivated my greedy stomach. I indulged in a creamy French Vanilla, but sadly I left the slice choc mint cake at the theatre and never got to sample its minty goodness.
To be honest, I would have to describe Sunday night's Theatresports show as the weakest of the three nights I saw, chiefly because of Impro Melbourne's obvious good intentions in wanting as many people as possible to play. But it lead to a somewhat confusing first half, with three different formats led by different people. I still enjoyed playing, but I think the show would have benefited from some streamlining, even if that meant cutting participants (including me!). The second half Theatreports challenge also suffered a bit from over-stuffing, but it was fun nonetheless.
After a post-show debrief, we all headed in to the Arts Centre, next to which was set up a "Speigeltent", otherwise known as a tent of mirrors. Before heading in, a few of the other players and I took off for a walk to Chinatown and some late night nosh. Back to the tent, and I was bewitched by the interior. I believe there's been a Spiegeltent set up in Brisbane in recent years, but by gosh it would be great to have a permanent venue like that. A round space with a stage at one end, a dance floor and tables in the middle, and booths along the outer rim, it's perfect for music, improv, cabaret or burlesque, or just generally chilling out. Sadly I didn't stay long, for after saying my goodbyes and thank yous to all the rocking Impro Melbourne people (and guests from Sydney and Canberra), I accepted a lift home to Kew from Sean.
Part 4: Homeward, Girl Clumsy
I woke early to say goodbye to Carol, who had to go to work and wouldn't finish until after I left for the airport. It was wonderful to see her again; she is honestly one of the smartest women I know, if not the smartest. I promised The Wah and I would come down for a proper visit again soon. Then I went back to bed, to be woken some hours later by Carol's daughter Amanda, whose job it was to keep me entertained all day. She had brought her nifty little HP laptop with her, which set us off on a mission to examine potential laptops for me all day. We also managed a stop in her favourite cafe, Bimbo on Brunswick Street, for $4 pizzas. Yummy. It had a lovely rooftop courtyard, and I could see why it would be popular, especially in pleasant weather like it was on Monday.
After getting thouroughly confused by the range of laptops and notebooks on offer, not to mention the increasinly bizarre "Cult of Apple", members of which seemed to come out of the woodwork to try to seduce me to the side of MacBook, we headed home so I could pick up my bag. Jenny from Impro Melbourne had very kindly offered to give me a lift to the airport, which I very much appreciated being fairly broke after the weekend. We had a great chat about all things improv on the way, then it off to the plane for me. I had the great pleasure of being on what I dubbed the "Stork Flight" - I had a baby next to me, a toddler in front of me and a baby across the aisle. I've never been so happy to own an mp3 player, I can tell you.
So that was my weekend in Melbourne. I'm sure I've left things out, but overall it was crazy fun. Thanks to everyone at Impro Melbourne for having me, Impro Mafia for sending me down, and to Carol and Amanda for being wonderful hosts. I'll be back soon...
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