Getting a bit of rattle and hum

At the end of a frantic week, full of travel, endless meetings and bad coffee it is wonderful to sleep in. It is even better to wake up and realise that you are off to see U2 with a group of close friends tonight.

I love to see live music and I made a decision a few years ago that I was going to make a concerted effort to see more concerts rather than regret not getting organised. It is sad though as too often I am disappointed by half-hearted performances or artists who just stand there sing and then leave. I love a bit of banter and when bands show some energy. I've seen U2 a few times and have never been disappointed. Even on their "off" nights they still play with passion.

Few others that I have seen have been so enjoyable. The Cat Empire play a great show and I was blown away by Franz Ferdinard earlier this year. I always enjoy Paul Kelly as he is such a intelligent and funny bloke as well as a great musician. The worst show I ever saw was one of the many Split Enz reunions where there was absolutely no chemistry between the band and no interaction with the audience. I was checking my watch waiting for it to end.

I'm hoping for a good one tonight. A bunch of us are getting there (moderately) early to get a decent position. Unlike our earlier days when we could endure queuing and standing, this time we are going to conserve our energy. There will be nibbles for us while we lounge around on the ground and wait. The Saturday papers will be read, and there will generally be a air of relaxed nonchalance. I am tasked with bringing the Haighs Chocolates. I think we are officially getting old!

For those going, enjoy the concert!

Hello Hello

Phew! Have been (and still am) frantically busy. I've been travelling in and out of Batville and generally doing too much so have neglected this poor little blog. Am now back in the blogosphere and looking forward to catching up on all those lovely posts out there. Will generally get back in the swing of things soon.

Hope life is treating you well, and that those in my vicinty have recovered from the hail and snow that afflicted our little city yesterday. Can you believe we are two weeks out from summer?

Only two sleeps till I see U2!

Having faith in our crime fighters

Well, this little story in the Age is comforting. The story focuses on the request by the "Universal Tube & Rollform Equipment Corporation" for YouTube to either stop using that domain name, or to assist in setting up a new one to replace utube.com. Seems the poor pipe manufacturers are being inundated with emails they don't want. Fair enough, just another news report you might say.

The disturbing bit is the part relating to the Sexual Crimes Squad. One Detective Senior Sergeant who apparently had the "right intention" emailed You Tube to ask them to remove footage taken from a DVD that relates to a rape investigation. Except that the Detective Senior Sergeant emailed the wrong address.

OK, I can understand how amateur pornographers and people who tape things for Funniest Video Shows could make that mistake and get utube.com mixed up with youtube.colm, but the Sexual Crimes Squad?

Can you imagine the conversation:

Cop 1:"Hey, mate can you email that tube site and ask them to take it off"

Cop 2:"Yeah sure. Hey how do you spell it?"

Cop 1:"I dunno"

Cop 2:"Does u-t-u-b-e.com sound about right?"

Cop 1:"Yeah, she'll be right mate"

Give me Marita Hargitay any day.

10 things you won't know about me

OK so here goes - Inspired by hat seeks home, I'm not Craig and snoskred, here is ten things that you won't know about me:

1. When I was a little thing I used to walk on tip toes so much that my worried mother took me to the doctor to have me checked out.
2. My favourite colour is purple.
3. I love children, but I'm not sure I can or will ever have the chance to have any of my own so make do by being a good friend to other people's kids.
4. I like my calfs and my ankles. I do a good ankle.
5. I can get ready to go out really quickly - if necessary I can shower, iron my clothes, style my hair and apply liquid eyeliner (degree of difficulty 8.9) in under 15 minutes.
6. I like art deco furniture, but I don't like the musty smell of antiques, so I don't really own any.
7. I can be very cynical, and my Mum worries that I am becoming "hard".
8. I aspire to be truthful in my life, with my friends, colleagues and family, and most importantly with myself. I have failed at this in the past but I think I am much better at it now.
9. If I go more than two days without listening to music that I like, I find myself getting really cranky.
10. I am addicted to Vegemite.

So if you are reading this, fess up and tell us something about yourself.

Worst ever songs to have stuck in your head

At the moment I have two: Joelene by Dolly Parton and It's the Hard Knock Life from the Annie soundtrack.

Am stuck in inner audio hell.

Procrastination part 1

In honour of Why do I do it? I thought I should return her post on procrastination.

I was just thinking about this as I worked out what to wear. Hours to date - 1. Outfits tried on - 5. Do I wear a skirt? Pants? Does that white top make the pesky few extra kilos a bit more obvious? Can I wear new shoes or will they hurt to much?

So what does Ms Batville do? Rather than make a decision she gets online and posts about it. That won't get the eyelashes curled as I'm sure someone used to say.

Tell me your top 5 procrastination techniques. I bet I can beat them all!

(And may your horse win the Derby tomorrow)

When it is all new

I am at that delightful time in a lass's life where she and a man spend their time kissing. In some ways it is an old relationship but the kissing thing is new and I must say the man in question is very skilled at the art. (OK promise not to nauseate you any further).

This is all quite refreshing for a cynic like me who had almost given up on the relationship thing and who had certainly forgot how nice hours of kissing can be. I had thought I couldn't see him in that way but then one day a while ago he made an offhand remark about something that seemed of no consequence and it jolted me in a way I did not expect. So things seem great and I mostly can't stop grinning.

But still, the insecurities surface. No reply to a text or "what did he mean by that?" and I suddenly become worrisome. Why can't I just relax and enjoy it? Maybe despite myself I am one of those slightly obsessive neurotic types that I pity.

One good thing - he has no idea. I have my pride for the moment at least.

And another good thing - we are catching up this weekend for more kissing....

And in startling news just to hand

The Age is reporting that real estate agents are still underquoting.

This is almost as astonishing as the reports in The Age earlier the week that pregnant women suffer discrimination at work and that "Babies still put a bump in women's career paths."

What next? Stories that tell us "Aboriginal people are discriminated against", "Shane Warne is not monogamous" or "Many Australians are actually racist."

Picking up in a literary sense

I can verily report that Mr Tulk cafe at the State Library of Victoria does a very good breakfast. It also has nice big tables so you can spread out and read the paper or a novel at ease. The staff are lovely and the ambiance is great. It also has a very high proportion of seemingly intelligent and lovely men who sound like Gregory Peck.

In winter they all seemed to be wearing jeans and black turtlenecks and Ms Batville has always been partial to a black turtleneck. I feared that if I went back in summer they would have white legs sticking out of shorts festooned with big ugly Jesus sandals (and obviously footwear is a big thing for me at the moment). I am glad to report that my fears were unfounded and there was nary a sad sandal in site.

So girls (or boys) , if you want to check out the talent, head down to Mr Tulk, order the nice toast thing and see what I mean.

If you don't meet a nice man to have your coffee with, you can always go and sit in the La Trobe reading room, look up at the dome, open up a book and all will seem well with the world.

Mmmm...

I recieved emails from three different friends today regarding a story in The Age that Andy Taylor has left Duran Duran. Sad that they thought they should email me. Possibly worse that I had already fully researched the story before their emails arrived.

I am forming a society for the preservation of nice footwear

Today as I was driving along in city I was indulging in that well-known female habit of checking out other women and assessing their clothing/look/hair etc. I was feeling charitable, and was delighted to spot a beautiful black velvet suit jacket with slim white piping, matched with a very nicely tailored grey frock. The wearer would have been late 20s, well groomed hair and walking along jauntily looking quite sweet indeed "How nice" I thought to myself, before I gazed down in horror to the footwear.

Light blue havaianas.

I have whinged before about the whole thongs with a suit thing, but now I have had enough! I may be old-fashioned but I belong to the suit=work, thongs=beach school of dressing. Enough crimes against fashion I say. From now on I will accost such types and shriek loudly at them until they march into Nine West and get themselves a nice pair of proper shoes.

I knew exercise was bad for you

Ha! After my smug post about my Sunday walk around the Tan I can verily report that I have hurt my leg and can't walk properly. Yes indeedy. And after walking at a pace where I was overtaken by small children on the Anderson Street hill.

The physio has told me to stay out of heels (blasphemous talk), to do stretching exercises, to ice my lower leg and to keep coming back for visits. In the meantime it actually hurts like hell.

Am seriously tempted to revert my formerly slothlike gluttonous state. Sure the clothes were a tad tight tight and walking up stairs left me puffed, but at least I wasn't in pain.

A weekend of reading, using copious quantities of ice (for leg and for gin) and grumbling to myself awaits.

At the risk of turning this into a purely political blog...

...or of further upsetting my lovely and sensible fellow bloggers (see last post) has anyone see the article by Neil Mitchell in today's Herald Sun ?

Apparently the racist attack on a Jewish man and his children in Caulfield last week by a bunch of footy players was "not all bad news" because Neil has surmised:

• Anybody could have been the target of this - "Jew, Muslim, Aboriginal, Asian, Greek, Italian". Apparently women can also be the target of yobbos.
• While it was "reasonable" for the victim to object to being called a "f--- Jew " while hearing the cheer "go Nazis" we should ask if it was reasonable for him to approach the bus the players were travelling in. Neil thinks that this escalated the "clash from ugly to violent". The "good news" is that the decision to approach the bus turned out to be OK because it another person intervened. This person we are told was "not a Jew" but was "sufficiently outraged to pursue the bus". A few others helped as well and that, according to Neil, was a "statement of deceny because these people identified as unacceptable the actions of a few idiots". (Obviously without their actions, readers of the Herald Sun would have been unable to make this judgement for themselves).
• The President of the Ocean Grove Football Club has been "decent and sensible" because he was appalled at what happened and hoped that those involved would meet the victim and apologise to him, and that they would visit the Holocaust Museum.
• Other "average Australians" have also expressed their "outrage and committement to decency"

In conclusion, Neil tells us that the victim has been exposed to a "snapshot of Australia:we have a few yobbos, a smattering of racism, a good deal of decency, a mix of cultures, dashes of prejudice, an underlying base of fairness, an edge of danger with our blokey culture, and too much fondness for too much alcohol."

Well, I feel better.

Anyone else want to stalk the Ocean Grove Football Club next year. We can turn up to their matches, laugh at their physical appearance and crack jokes about the deaths on the Melbourne-Geelong Road and the Pyramid Bank collapse. Let's make sure we do it in full view of their children as well, for good measure.

I need a gin.

Spot the inconsistency

It is five years since the Siev X sank with the loss of 353 asylum seekers. On Friday the Age published this photo of Hazam Al Rowaimi who lost his mother, wife and children when the boat sank off Australian waters . At the time Australia's then Immigration Minister, then Defence Minister and the Prime Minister John Howard announced that a number of children on the vessel had been thrown overboard. This was later found to be untrue, but not before it was an issue at an election which John Howard was returned to power.

Apparently a Commonwealth Government Agency have stopped plans for a memorial in Canberra on the basis that it can't be erected until 10 years after the event.

It has been six weeks since Steve Irwin died. Apparently our Prime Minister John Howard has said he would be holding discussions soon about a permanent memorial as "I certainly know that the people want it and we've had some very good suggestions and I hope we can come up with a sensible proposal."

Ms Batville could single-handledly end the drought

What a day of accomplishment for Ms Batville. This time last week I was getting out of bed (for the second time - having retired back to bed after my initial effort of eating breakfast and reading the papers).

This morning I have already devoured the papers, walked around the Tan and done the supermarket shopping. Ms Batville is not a natural exerciser so this constituted my fifth ever walk around the Tan, and the second in three weeks. I was a slow time of 40 minutes all the way around, but I made it up the Anderson Street Hill in better form than last time. Sure small children passed me, but hey, it is a start.

The strange thing is that everytime I have walked the Tan it starts raining just as I near the end. And not just a drizzle, rather a full on genuine "we need rain like this" rain. The sort of rain you get when you decide to wash the curtains or rugs and leave them on the line to dry out.

From now on I will attempt to walk the Tan twice a week, to the point where I can actually run the damn thing. This will hopefully help me lose those pesky extra few kilos, and will be my one woman effort to help Victoria's farmers by ending the drought.

PS - If you were on the Tan this morn and saw someone walking along grinning inanely to themselves, that was me. Most unexpectedly Murray Head's "One night in Bangkok" popped up on my iPod, and I was amused to think how the hell it snuck on there.