Dear god no.

Some of you may have seen my previous post about the abomination that I'm betting will be Australia the movie. At that time I predicated that there would be a subplot that featured a "warm and loving friendship" with a "small and non-threatening Aboriginal child". Well lo and behold, apparently the film " introduces to the screen Brandon Walters at Nullan, the boy who steals Lady Ashley's (aka our Nicole) heart".


Exhibit A:



OK, so he is a really cute kid but I still reckon the film will be a dud, worthy of naught but our best cultural cringe.

Disturbingly I can find out all about the "phenomal buzz" that will surround this film on the Tourism Australia website, a site which, on its face, appears to be less about Australia the country, and more about Australia the movie.

This may be because our Baz Luhrmann (director of "Australia") has created a new tourism campaign for this wide brown land, apparently based on the feelings evoked for him during shooting. Baz has said that he hopes to "convey an emotional experience that is possible from going the extra distance" which is a big call from a man who has described the remarkably and increasingly wax and ice like Nicole Kidman as a "life force to be reckoned with".

This leads me to wonder what these ads might be like. I'm guessing that they might feature one or more of the following: charming little bush urchins grinning at the camera (aka young Brandon above), sunsets, Bill Hunter, blokes tipping their hats at the camera and/or women in bikinis, didgeridoos, waterholes, waterfalls, lots of water generally which you won't actually find as Australia is in a long term drought, kangaroos, women in inappropriate makeup and weird costumes, men with inappropriate makeup and weird costumes, dancing, red petticoats, emus, stoic blokes, girly women, red dust, Utes, crocodiles. Pretentiousness, unrealistic and a tad scary - tick.

We could trust Tourism Australia that this new campaign will turn out alright, but then they were the lot responsible for introducing the world to Lara Bingle, and then having her banned in the UK.

I, for one, don't predict a huge upswing in international tourism.

Ms Batville at the movies: Quick and dirty film reviews for the month of July

I've seen quite a few films over the last month and a bit (the pleasures of being child free and dating) and I've meant to write a review all of them. Time has skipped away so using a rating out of 5 stars, here is a simple and efficient Ms Batville summary of my recent viewing pleasures:


Children of the Silk Road
David Wenham almost steals the show in a five minute role at the start of the film where he plays the hard bitten cynic Australian journalist. Great scenery, cute kids, bloody awful dialogue, predictable plot. Jonathan Rhys Meyers sounds like he escaped from a cheap remake of Brideshead Revisted. Spent much of the last half the film thinking about whether I could get my hair to look like Michelle Yeoh's. Regrettably I decided I could not.
***

The Dark Knight
Chris Nolan can do no wrong by me. One of the best casts of recent times, cool stuff that blows up to excite the male gender, Maggie Gyllenhaal rocks and there minimum use of "lame dialogue but we can use this in the trailer" moments. (80's less famous sibling spot - Eric Roberts, brother of Julia.)
***1/2

Hancock
OK so Will Smith's character is an allegory for the US. I got that. I didn't get how the scriptwriters lost their way half way through and tacked on a mismatched love story that didn't fit with the first half. At all. (80's less famous sibling spot - Jason Batemen, brother of Justine.)
**

Indiana Jones and The Kingdom Of The Crystal Skull
I love love love Cate Blanchett but she should have known better. I will never never never forgive Spielberg for wasting Karen Allen like that so she could spend the film gazing lovingly up at Harrison Ford's face lift scars whimpering "Oh Indy".
*1/2

Iron Man
Robert Downey Jnr, how I love thee. Is there a more talented "kick the others out of the park with his raw charisma" actor around today? No there is not. "I am Iron Man." Could have been silly but I loved it!
****

Lars and the Real Girl
This is still showing in cinemas, and that in itself leaves me with a feeling of fatigue much like the film. OK, but I'm over films about the quirky inhabitants of small American towns. It was old 15 minutes after Fargo.
**

Mongol
Gladiator in a yurt. Genghis did it all for a girl, only killed when neccessary and wasn't that bad a bloke. Really.
**

The Orphanage
Mildly scary at parts, a tad predictable but starring one of those authenic Spanish actresses who can look sexy while looking her age. An extra star for that
***

It is not exactly David Stratton but you get the gist.

How to shop for a Man?

How do you do it? I have no idea. Help needed!!!

The Man has a birthday coming up. It is not for some time, which gives me time to buy him a great "kick-arse, throw it right out of the park, best ever, so much better than my ex-girlfriend's gift, wow what a great idea, how did you know I always wanted this" gift. For a variety of reasons, the main one being he is just lovely, I want this year's birthday gift to be spectacular.

Problem is that The Man has very specific and quite limited tastes:

• Clothes are out. He has some. He quite likes them. That will do him for now.


• He has plenty of books (including some from me) and doesn't have time to read them all as it is. If he really wants a book he would buy it.


• He likes art but thinks that good art is expensive and that it is hard to buy art for someone else.


• He likes a clutter free home where items serve a function. Anything he deems extraneous gets thrown out.


• He likes travel, but it would be hard to surprise him with anything as he has a busy diary, and he is an international travel sort of guy, not a "let's get away for a dirty weekend in Sydney" type.


• He has a car. He really likes it. He would tell me it really doesn't need anything except petrol.


• He has all the tech things he could want - camera, iPod, funky retro-styled radio, computers, computer games, state of the art PDA-phone thingie.


• He has had the same watch for nearly two decades. It tells the time and hence fits his criteria of a great watch. He bristles at the idea of replacing it.

Other things he likes: me, great food, vodka, cars, cheese, red wine, history, chess, Jessica Alba, trance music, the stockmarket, laughing, the colour blue, France, architecture, taking care of his parents, science fiction, brunettes, action movies, arguing with me about the correct pronunciation of words, being right about the latter, foreign language films and most frustratingly .... telling me not to spend too much money on his birthday as "anything will do".

I am in need of guidance. I've been chewing over this for weeks and have nothing to show for it. There must be a knack to this buying for blokes thing. It can't be that hard, can it? Your thoughts welcome....

I've cured the common cold

If you, like me, have been a tad under the weather recently with a snuffly nose, runny eyes and a sore head, you need sympathy and some help.

I can verily testify that the Vietnamese Chicken Soup at The Green Grocer (217 St Georges Road Fitzroy North) has cured my cold. It is described in the menu as a "a hot and sour soup of free range chicken Asian greens rice noodles shitake mushroom coriander lime and ginger." All this for $12 and they throw in some chilli as well.

A good dose of this and your nose will dry up, your head will miraculously clear and you'll be ready to up and do battle on one of Melbourne's various forms of overcrowded public transport with all the other miserable sneezing commuters, smug in the knowledge that you are now cured.

This place gets raves for its breakfast menu, but really it is all good - stock up your larder when you are there.

A few days ago I was sick and miserable. Now I'm skipping through the streets full of the joys of winter. It is a miracle.

July already

My New Year's resolutions for 2008 were to:

Lose weight (did that, then put most of it back on again)

Buy great new clothes to go with lost weight (see above and weep with me)

Go to yoga once a week (went once ... for the whole year)

Go the gym twice a week (went twice in one week, haven't been since)

Cook more (did that, see comment re weight above)

Have a massage or facial once a month (Two massages, no facials so far all year)

Save money every month (Nope)

Read more books (Achieved- Yah!)

Blog twice a week (Well, you can see how successful that has been)

My guilt complex has stopped me returning to this blog until I could think of something terribly witty and jaw-dropping that would wipe away guilt about my broken resolution. It ain't going to happen ... so for the moment I will just stick with trying to get some of these resolutions back on track.

Having noted my abject failings resolution wise I can say I'm having a cracker year. My job, the Man, my state of mind - all fabulous!

More soon...

What a year!

I can't believe it is already December and I have, despite my best intentions, been very neglectful of my little blog.

The last few months have been, um, challenging. All sorts of tricky career issues, some big life questions surrounding said career, money worries arising from career crisis and a general malaise has kept me from cutting loose and enjoying myself. Anyway I'm off on holidays again this week - warmer climes in Asia await me and I really, really, really need a break. I will try to post from various destinations, as much to ensure that I retain some of my vocabulary and my brain doesn't turn to mush as I start to properly relax.


2007 has been a good year for me, despite recent concerns. The Man is a good soul and whilst he ain't the most romantic type who gives flowers or utters spontaneous declarations of affection, he has treated me very very well. Up to now I have kept this little blog private, although he knows I have one and has threatened to search for it. I think the fear of discovery has kept me from writing more freely, but I think I am waaaay overestimating his interest in finding this site so I intend to write more often and more freely.

I've also had a good year in terms of myself - sounds corny but I really quite look who I am and how I treat others, and despite the worries and business I can look back on the year and feel proud of who I am. Good to reflect on that every so often.

I am also so so so happy to see little Johnny Howard fall off his perch. I still have to get over my aversion to the phrase "The Prime Minister said" uttered by ABC journalists. I instantly recoil and then have to remind myself that we have a new PM, one who doesn't subscribe to an outdated, racist, lowest common denominator, vote buying, poll driven agenda.

This year I have got myself a new car, taken more photos, bought myself some wicked lipstick, dropped a few pesky kilos around the midsection enabling me to rediscover a few old faves from the wardrobe, had this blog namedropped in The Age, challenged myself at work, spoiled a few good friends, eaten at most of Melbourne's fabulous restaurants (oh the benefits of dating) loved, slept in, cuddled, laughed and got through it all taking life seriously, but not myself.

And that, dear friends, is the secret of Ms B's happiness.

If I don't read your words or catch up with your worlds before the end of the year, Merry Christmas or other appropriate religious/pagan/capitalist shopping event and a happy new year.

I'm off to finish my packing!

310 things

That is right - I've crossed two whole items off my to do list! And this is despite having a dodgy keyboard/mouse combination that keeps adding extraneous bits of text where I don't want them, annoying colleagues and too much coffee.

It is a glorious day in Melbourne today - the kind that makes the arrival of summer seem imminent. It is also the sort of day that makes a gel regret those extra Tim Tams she consumed. I've acquired a nice little layer of warmth around my main organs recently so there will be exercise and abstinence in my near future I fear or I won't fit into any of my nice summer frocks.

It is all a bit too much

I have 312 (yes - three hundred and twelve) items in my To Do list. Many are long term, not urgent sort of tasks. Only a few are seriously overdue. But still - 312!

No wonder I feel tired.

Life is pretty good right now except I loathe my newsagent

Work is crazy busy, but I am healthy, The Man is good, my family is well and, letss face it, compared to those in Burma or Sudan I don't have a thing to complain about. However that is not to say that aren't things that trouble my mind from time to time. I don't get to blog and read others as often as I want to, my computer keeps crashing, I haven't read a book in weeks, I've lost my driver's licence renewal form, I have baskets of washed clothes sitting around my spare room which I really must try to put away and my larder is mostly empty. What is really perturbing me at the moment though is that I may have to give up my long held addiction to newsprint.

It may not be obvious but ask yourself this, which of these three things does not belong with the others:

*I read newspapers in the old fashioned paper-turning way.
*I have a small, mostly dehydrated, front garden which is only barely alive during our water restrictions.
*I also have a great man with whom I spend part of my weekends ahem...kissing and sleeping in with.

Apparently it is impossible to have all three in my life at the same time.

I have stuck with print newspapers for many a year now, long after others moved entirely into the digital realm. I suffered through the Age's excessive newsprint stage which led to small smudgy black fingerprints all around my home. I survived the gradual diminution of the lifestyle, entertainment and food sections. All this time I have loyally subscribed to the Age, and I have the Australian and the Fin delivered on weekends. I love nothing more than to sit back on the couch on a Saturday with pages and pages of newspaper reading ahead of me.

In days gone past I had a lovely newsagent who would carefully place the papers just inside my front gate. After a while he was replaced by an aggressive young lad who each morning at 6:00 would launch the papers from his bike to my front door causing a loud bang. As annoying as this might sound it usually served as my alarm clock and ensured I could read the papers before heading off to work.

Now I have a newsagent who drives past in his Volvo (!) every morning at about 8, well after I have left for work. He seems to take particular perverse delight in throwing the weekday papers from his car window and he aims not at my front door or pathway, but at the any bit of greenery left in my small plot. So far he has decapitated geraniums, crushed my lavender bush, sliced a succulent or ten and "pruned" my roses for me. Is it too much to ask that I can read the Age and keep my garden intact? Apparently it is. I have visiting him and asked him nicely to help me out and try to avoid this. He looked down at me over his bulbous nose, with a smug look on his swarthy red face and smirked "sure." Since then the garden destruction has really taken off and it now looks like a small cyclone has visited upon my long suffering plants.

On weekends the problem is different. As I am often staying with The Man I arrive home later in the day to find all the papers nicely lined up on my pathway in clear sight advertising to all and sundry that (a)I have spent the night elsewhere and am not home or (b) I am a can't get out of bed. Don't get me wrong – I don't much care if my neighbours think I am a slovenly slut but I don't really want to let all the local burglars know I'm out.

Apparently I can't change to another newsagent as Mr Volvo is the only person who covers my area. I fear my days of newsprint are behind me. I apologise to those newspaper journalists who fear that the move to online newspapers will cost them jobs. You can't say I didn't try.

Where did all the sax players go?

I recently had reason to reflect on a selection of 80's music whilst trapped in a never-ending taxi ride. The music of my youth was playing and it occurred to me that one of the important features of 80's music has all but disappeared from today's music scene.

I'll give you some examples...

The crush-worthy Steve Norman from Spandau Ballet:

Australia's very own "I'm lucky I ended up in this band or I would never have scored Deni Hines" Kirk Pengilly:


James Valentine from the Models, now a serious ABC journalist/presenter type:

The dude from Dire Straits:

The dude who played with Hall & Oates (who, readers, was actually the epitome of 1985 cool with a sax, a mullet and a shiny jacket natch)


This list is not complete of course. We should mention the other great forgotten saxophonists including from Australian Crawl, Wang Chung, Men Without Hats, Psychedelic Furs, Was (Not Was) (personal faves of Ms Batville) and the boys who played along with Alison Moyet and Sade.

These days there is nary a saxophone player in sight. I don't much mind this but I do worry for all those Gen X saxophonists who took up the instrument inspired by young Billy Hicks (played by the very chiseled cheekbones of a pre Sam Seaborn Rob Lowe) in the all time classic 80's film St Elmo's Fire. I related to the Mare Winnngham character (whose name was, would you believe, Wendy Beamish!!) when she fell head over heels for Billy. I'm sure many impressionable young boys and girls thought similarly and begged their parents for an instrument so they could look this cool:



Where are they now? Is their beloved sax sitting in a dusty cupboard somewhere with their dreams of stardom shattered, or are they out at the Burvale on a Friday night blasting away tunelessly while they recreate retro classics to a roomful of drunk and nostalgic punters?

I wonder....

Back in Batville (but planning my next trip)

How time flies – a whole month since I last posted. So I'm back in Melbourne, reasonably refreshed and considerably more penurious after my overseas extravagance. During my holiday I mostly stayed away from email and reminders from home, hence no travel blogging. (Besides which reading about Dr Haneef made me so angry I thought it best not to check out what was going on). I'm only just back but it all seems to be fading into the background now so I don't think I will depress myself and recount my fabulous times in detail.

Needless to say I had a lovely trip – The Man and I generally got on extremely well and we survived the whole driving/navigating together thing. I saw great art, magnificent scenery, breathtaking views and the odd historical building. I walked and walked until I had blisters, I read none of the books I took over, I swam in warm water and I only did a smidgen of shopping. I met interesting people, stupid people and travelled with delightful old friends and less delightful moody newer acquaintances. I spent money on great accommodation, expensive dinners and alcohol.

The nice thing about getting away is that it gives you time to think and get your priorities in order. Whilst I like to think of myself as a traveller I am often guilty of working too hard, obsessing over little things and not taking enough holidays. During my trip I have reflected on the following important and less important issues:

• I get bored with my job from time to time. That is OK and doesn't represent a career crisis. I will get less bored if I take some time out every so often. I will also get less bored if I have the confidence to challenge myself. I'll get that confidence if I take time to stick my little meerkat head up from my work and get some perspective more often.

• I have finally learnt to pack semi-lightly. I took a moderate suitcase, packed more clothes than I wore but still had room to fit in some shopping purchases. It has taken 30+ years but I no longer have to exceed the baggage allowance on Qantas.

• I need to take more holidays – that is, I need to take them more frequently and go to lots of different places. I should mentally wipe my headspace free of work and Australia (picture a mental Etch-a-Sketch here) by travelling overseas at least once every eighteen months.

• Melbourne food is wonderful. You can eat at plenty of mid-range restaurants and have meals that range from good to very good. You rarely get a dud meal. We also have some fabulous restaurants. The food here is fresh and the meals are not too processed, salty, sweet or huge. Not that I don't appreciate eating local cuisine in foreign countries, but some of it is just over-priced crap. I should appreciate Melbourne food more.

• Australia is not a very important country but we could be a great country and we have some fabulous people. John Howard is not one of them. We desperately need to get out of our "baby-bonus plasma-TV buying, racist fear-mongering, complacent mortgage holders battler lowest common denominator" culture and elect a politician who can actually lead the country and equip it to face the future.

• More than a few Qantas staff are up themselves and should take a bit more time to reflect on how they treat their customers.

• The Man is a very very good sort and whilst he is not the most expressive, romantic bloke in the world, he is genuine and reliable. He has shown me great care and ever so often he makes some gesture to make me happy that takes my breath away. I enjoy his sense of humour, his intelligence, his musings and I am never for a moment bored in his company. We are going well. I don’t know where it will end up, and I don't think he does either. That is just fine for the moment.

• Watching Kath & Kim on the Qantas flight home is destined to make one very depressed. It shouldn't be played on flights into Australia.

I am gradually sinking back into the routine of everyday living, although I fear I am still a tad jetlagged. This weekend I will get out and about in Melbourne this weekend to ensure that I am not beset by post-holiday ennui. Hope life is treating you well and I look forward to catching up on events in the blogosphere.

Yours restfully

Ms B

I'm off

to a place in the other hemisphere where it is warm and where John Howard has no influence! Yah!

And if you need another reason to seriously wonder about our Prime Minister at times, take this extract from The Age:

However even Mrs Howard's considerable influence has had its limits. When she was in end-stage labour with their third child, the book recounts that Mr Howard refused to break the speed limit while driving her to hospital, despite her obvious panic. He also baulked at driving the wrong way up a one-way street. In the end, he missed the birth while trying to find a legal car park.

So little Australian battlers, just remember that whilst babies (and the associated baby bonus) are good things, it is against the law to break the speed limit or travel up a one way street the wrong way. It is always important to do the "right" thing and laws are more important than people.

Sub-editor humour

Someone at The Age just could not help themselves. Nothing like an old adult cinema gag....

Suggestions welcome on a page-turner

It is only a few more sleeps until I take a nice long flight, otherwise known as the time that busy people from the antipodes catch up on sleep and reading when travelling to the old world.

For some reason I am not inspired by any of the many unread books on my bookshelf, and I'm keen to splash out on a page-turner or two. I'm not in the mood for trash, rather something well written and neither depressing nor overly joyful.I'm fond of the classics, don't mind the odd bit of crime, or a historical work, or an autobiography. I've been recommended A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini.

Any other suggestions very welcome....

In the words of Boney M ....

"Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday

What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday

Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday

Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday

Its a holi-holiday

Well, Im game, fun is the thing Im after

Now lets all live it up today, get set for love and laughter

Well, lets go, time isnt here for wasting

Life is so full of sweet sweet things, Id like to do some tasting"

That is right - Ms Batville has booked a holiday, a spur of the moment overseas trip with The Man for a few weeks. I'm leaving the week after next and I'm going north, to that other hemisphere, where it will be warmer than Batville. A bit of sleep, a bit of reading, more than a dash of culture, a bit of driving around sightseeing, a lot of good food and good wine, and a good Man who is very easy to travel with. Just indulge me as I gloat for a second or two.

It has been so so so long since I had a decent break and frankly I have been exhausted, weighed down with work and prone to self indulging in the odd moment of melancholy. But now I feel as light as a feather and happy happy happy. I went and bought a travel guide today and can hardly hide my excitement.

It will also be really nice to get away from the pressures of two stressful careers for some relaxed couple time. In the past few years I have become accustomed to travelling alone which is fine for a while, but can be lonely if it is part of every trip you take. I am really looking forward to sharing a trip with someone. Of course now I have to work like buggery to get things in order before I go. But I don't care cos....

"On the country side well take a ride (hi dee hi dee ho)

Where the stars all shine and lots of time (hi dee hi dee ho)

Back of your old car we might get far (hi dee hi dee ho)

In the summer breeze we feel at ease (hi dee hi dee ho)

Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday

What a world of fun for everyone, holi-holiday

Hooray, hooray, its a holi-holiday

Sing a summer song, skip along, holi-holiday

Its a holi-holiday, its a holi-holiday"