Exceeds Expectations

I went and saw Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 1 with friends last night
(and dragged M along too.)

Loved it. Loved it so hard.

Had to explain the plot to M over my Aioli dinner as he's seen some of the movies but flat-out refuses to read the books because he is a culture-less ignoramus. It was the most Cliffs notes version of a plot outline, but he understood - and liked the film a lot too.

It was weird though. I felt quite emotional about seeing this film. HP has been a part of my life for a long time. I'm not a rabid fan, by any means, but I was oddly nervous. I also felt incredibly proud of the cast - it's like we've watched them grow up in a way. I love that they've kept them all together.

And they we're so GOOD in this film - they've all learnt to act and Emma Watson has stopped emoting through her eyebrows, and Rupert Grint was so believable and I thought DanRad was just excellent.

It was a very dark and suspenseful film. I can't imagine what would possess a parent to take a young child to see this - I just about shat myself in two places (both to do with Nagini because I HATE SNAKES) but there is really nothing about this film that is for children. It's not about a magical world of discovery and adventure any more.  Indeed, the magic isn't even introuduced in this one - they're expecting an audience who knows this world, who knows what Polyjuice potion is for example, and accepts the parameters accordingly.

Torture, isolation, desolation, grief, evil, acceptance, loss.

Hermione obliviating her parents? And then having to reapeat the spell at the cafe later?
The trio fighting and Ron leaving?
Harry looking at his toy soldiers in the cupboard under the stairs?
Hedwig? Dobby? Mad-Eye?

It was heavy going. 


But there were funny moments of course. And toucing ones too - the scene of Hermione and Harry dancing together in the tent - a failed attempt on Harry's behalf to cheer Hermione up - just gorgeous.

I can't wait for the next one.
If only all book-to-film translations were this effective.

Hood-winked?

I have a new hoodie jumper/sweatshirt (depending on which side of the Pacific you’re on)

I flipping love it.

It’s purple and fleecy and has long sleeves and I have been cuddling up in it every night as the temperature has suddenly dipped below a level of comfort and there is visible snow on the mountains behind us.

(yeah, it’s got a stain of tomato sauce down the front ........ what of it? )

Thing is? I like wearing it with the hood up.

Don’t know why.

Just do.

It’s how I roll dawg.

M find this hi-larious.

He keeps asking me to rap. I can’t rap for quids. Which he finds even funnier.

(Is now the time to mention that I have a teensy tiny bit of a crush on Eminem?? And that I kinda love his song with Rihanna .... even though it’s pretty much an anthem to domestic abuse ... whatevs, it’s a catchy tune, and I do love a bit of thug in my man)

Well. The hoodie and I went to the supermarket tonight. 

And it was cold so, yes, the hood was up. 

And as I was walking in the door from the cold, an elderly lady stopped me and said  

"excusez-moi monsieur."

.................................................... ?  

And the hood goes back down. 

And I start to question my sartorial choices. 

She could have been a senile old bat but, either way, the tribe has spoken.

The hood is down. 

And my head is cold. 

Boo. 

x

Negotiations

I backed out of going for a run tonight.

Way too tired after a week that started out on the wrong foot after a late Sunday evening return from a boozy weekend in London and went steadily downhill, concluding with a wake up call of 5.00am today to get my marking finished. Yuk.

So anyway, it was a gigantic ‘hell-to-the-no’ to going for a run tonight.

But I had to promise Trainer Bob M that I would go for a run tomorrow.

And my punishment if I don’t?

No internet TV shows for a whole week.

He is so unfair. I offered to do the dishes for a week. He said no as I effectively do that anyway.

Harsh.

And mean.
Really really mean.
And he knows how to get me where it hurts. No Glee? No Gossip Girl? 
Sadistic bastard. 

To further illustrate his meanness:
I was asking him for help with my list of “interesting things about me” and he said that I should write:

“I secretly like one of my sisters more than the other”

And then watch them flip out.


Like I said, mean.

Funny. But mean.


xxx

Versatility

Versatile? Moi?

The hilarious and delightful Sara Louise over at Sara in le Petit Village nominated me for a blog award.

I feel so honoured! She likes me! AND we share a mutual love of Anne of Green Gables and a fear of all things Justin Bieber.


So – the dealio is that I have to share seven things about me.

Here you go – seven random facts that you may or may not have known about me:


1. I can’t really whistle.
I mean, I can a bit, but it’s quite inconsistent and sometimes when I blow, no sound comes out. M was astounded that, after 11+ years together, he only just learnt this.
It’s a silent shame I keep hidden deep inside.

2. When asked what my favourite book is, I lie.
Particularly when asked by students.
I’ll usually equivocate and say something like “To Kill a Mockingbird” or “Little Women” or “Atonement” (all of which I really do love) but this white lie is to keep me from having to admit that my REAL favourite books, like, EVER are the “Bronze Horsemen” trilogy. Death, Love, Angst, Russia, World War II, Death, Sex, did I mention Death? One of my sisters, when reading the, admittedly long section, set during the blockade of Leningrad commented “ok, I get it, they’re all starving and dying, could you hurry up now please!” She’s a real softie that one.

3. A few years ago I won a car in a charity raffle. True story.

4. I should wear a smock or bib at all times.
I cannot make it through a meal without spilling or dropping food/sauce/drink/crumbs down my front. The other day I was eating pumpkin soup for lunch. And wearing a white top. Thank god for scarves.

5. I like wind and heights. 
I love being on high buildings and feeling them move. And turbulence. And the sensation you get when you go over a bump and free fall a bit.
Yeah. Sicko. I know.

6. I played with Barbies waaaaaaaay beyond an appropriate age
I managed to get away with it due to three younger sisters.
To be frank, I’m just hanging out for all the children of my friends to get into Barbies so I can start it up again.

7. I know every word to every song in the musical Les Miserables.
Don’t challenge me on this unless you’ve got about 2.5 hours up your sleeve.
M learnt this the hard way on a road trip to NSW.
I had no voice by the time I’d finished but I think I’d made my point.

I'm off to read something high-brow and literate and in no-way am I looking up Vampire Diaries Fan-Fiction

**whistles**

Whistle fail. 

Slam-Dunk

Running into our local supermarket yesterday, dodging the torrential rain, a lady crossed my path and out of the corner of my eye I saw that she appeared to be clutching a familiar brown package. 

Impossible! I thought to myself. 

This is FRANCE. 

There are no such wonderous chocolatey biscuit delights here. 

Be reasonable. 

But the image stayed with me. 

Niggled at me. 

So I figured, what the heck, I'll go check out the biscuit aisle.

And there they were. Tucked away on the bottom shelf. 

The Holy Grail of all biscuits. 

Tim Tams. 

Oh. My. Arnotts. 

Cue: Happy dance in aisle 4. 

I'm not going to quantify how many packets I bought, but suffice to say, if the world was overrun with Zombies tomorrow, or we suffered a nuclear catastrophe. 

I'd be the smug bitch with all the Tim Tams. 

PS: I came home today to find that M had bought 3 more packets. Booyah! 

Had my first Tim-Tam slam in a loooooong time about 2 hours ago. 

It was just as good as I remembered. 

 

xxx

Will the real M please stand up

M is a very funny dude. 

He makes me laugh, a lot and is, all-round, a pretty darned good husband and fun to hang out with.

Heh – I bet you think there is a big BUT coming. 

No buts.

No, instead I’d like to run you through M’s various personalities which are always lurking below the surface but seem to bubble up most noticeably when we are travelling. 

He has actually given these personality traits names and we refer to them frequently.

For those of you who know M well – see how accurate you think these definitions are:  

First up, of course, is Security Steve.

Security Steve is a useful sort to have on a holiday as he is basically your “alert but not alarmed” traveller who wears a money belt at all times, checks and double checks zippers on backpacks, scans crowds for potential threats and keeps all documents under carefully guarded lock and key (even when staying out in the remote Tuscany countryside where the only other people within a 1km radius are the owners and some inquisitive chooks. To be fair – the chooks looked a little shifty). 

Security Steve likes to talk about himself in the third person, claims to have trained as a ninja/security guard, knows 5 different forms of Asian martial arts, excels at Greco-Roman wrestling and gets angry and twitchy when I momentarily misplace sunglasses, purses, hotel keys or when he momentarily loses visual contact as I’ve been distracted by pretty, shiny things. 

I have caught him talking into his wrist and collar and apparently Security Steve has counted to infinity ..... twice.

Dave the Mule is closely related to Security Steve and is equally useful when travelling.

Dave the Mule is good for all the heavy lifting and carrying that invariably comes about when on vacation. He instinctively takes the larger suitcase, will happily wear a backpack laden with water bottles, guidebooks, coats, umbrellas etc so that I don’t have to carry a handbag (against Security Steve’s guidelines) and does most of the carrying and transporting. 

Dave the Mule’s main drawback though is that he is happiest when trudging up hills and clambering up thousands of flights of stairs. I’m trying to smack this out of him.  

Eric “Google Maps” Schmidt is the intelligent, more refined older bother to Dave the Mule.

Eric has an inbuilt GPS, an affinity with all kinds of maps and an all-round kickass sense of direction. 

This ability is able to withstand testing conditions, such that even when exiting underground Metro stations in the pouring rain, Eric will know instinctively which way to head, even when some shrew-like banshee is screeching that he’s going the wrong way. 

He almost never is. 

Inbuilt Google Maps Man Versus Stupid banshee.

Google Maps Man FTW every time.

Kwai-Cho is the lesser seen of the pack.  

He tends to slip out only when I’ve decided I want to buy shoes/a handbag/paintings/chocolates/ books. He is usually pretty confident that this is (A) a waste of money and that (B) he can get a better deal somewhere else. 

Kwai-Cho is also a gun at bartering. He once made a Chinese lady at the Beijing Friendship markets cry. He will haggle over 20 cents – out of principal and because he enjoys it. 

Kwai-Cho’s favourite movie is The Castle and his catch-phrase is “tell’im he’s dreamin”.

And finally, there’s Bruce McAvaney. 

Like everyone in his family, Bruce likes to commentate. He not only passes comment on things that could, potentially, deserve observation and comment but more often than not on things, such as television shows, movies, the goings-on outside the window, traffic, weather (oh, so much commentating on the weather) that really don’t require a running commentary as I can see them with my own eyes as I am sitting right there. 

Bruce will provide an enthusiastic commentary even for things that are already being commentated – like sport on TV. The standard way to deal with Bruce when he gets going is to give non-committal “mmm-hmms” and try to find a quiet place. 

This is hard to do when trapped in a car for a 5 hour drive home.  

Me and Steve/Dave/Eric/Kwai-Cho/Bruce

At least it's never a dull moment!

xxx

Bar-the-lona

Yeah Yeah Yeah, this is so overdue. 

But I did want to put up some photos and tell you all just how much fun we all had in Barcelona and what stellar guests Cus and Ash were and how much we loved having them here.

The four of us decided awhile back that we wanted to go to Barcelona but we were dismayed by the exorbitant cost of flights so we decided to drive there instead. Driving ended up being absolutely fine but it was a lot of driving for 2 nights and we copped a huge storm on the way back which was pretty hairy. But it was so worth it and it felt like a rather decadent little mini-break/road-trip.

After being forced to sit through Disk 1 and 2 of the Wide World of Sports, Cus and I were ready to mutiny against our idiot husbands before we were half way there, so we decided to start drinking instead. Champagne makes road trips much more fun!   

When we finally arrived in Barcelona, got to our awesome apartment and emptied our bursting bladders, we were off on our first Tapas hunt. 

Love the European siesta/late night arrangement. Dinner at 23.00? Sure!

First Tapas and Sangria of the trip 

(and that Sangria would have powered a rocket, it was stro-ong!)

Our itinerary for the two days pretty much revolved around food and drink – which suited all four of us just fine! In between eating and drinking sessions, we did manage to see a fair bit of this fascinating city. We were blessed on the Saturday with gorgeous weather, and we made the most of it by touristing it up on a “hop-on/hop-off” bus which had a few boring bits but gave us a pretty solid overview of the sights. 

Gaudi everywhere - the v.impressive Sagrada Familia

More Gaudi

our apartment was just up the street from here, which was groovy

Oh so very touristy. 

ah well - when in Rome Spain

Just a few people out on Las Ramblas

What it was really all about - lunch

Ash = one happy little Vegemite here

Old Gothic quarter

Highlights of the day definitely included the gorgeous square we found to have lunch in – a sensational paella – and sitting outside the Catalan National Art Museum soaking up the views and listening to an amazing guitarist over a few beers. 

The evening kicked it up a notch with copious jugs of sangria and round after round of delicious Tapas.

M hearts cured meats - it's a love story for the ages

Too many of these ....

Led to quite a lot of this:

That's hysterical, wheezing, inappropriately raucous laughter

We eventually tumbled out of this place and  took the party back to our apartment and sat out on the top-floor terrace probably annoying the sh*t out of the neighbours until sudden rain forced us inside.

No further photos from that night - and how rough we all looked the next day, are included.

Your eyes will thank me.

The next morning we were all painfully reminded that our bodies don’t bounce back like they used to after a boozy night. After a rather half-hearted attempt to do more sight-seeing in the pouring rain, we decided to use the weather ( and not our pounding heads) as an excuse to pack up and head home. Good thing we did too, as the aforementioned rain made it slow going on the roads.

It was back to work on Monday for M and I and Cus and Ash demonstrated their thoughtfulness and generosity by cooking us two dinners, doing some cleaning (Ash even mopped our floors!!) and generally being awesome and understanding guests. .

A few lovely dinners out at our local joints and some touring of the local area and then they were off home

(please excuse my washed-out hideousness here, I'd been up since 4.30am)

 

They have left behind the legacy of the ridiculously addictive smartphone game “jewels” and the knowledge that Cus + Scrabble are apparently as fiery a combination as Sangria + tapas! 

Love you guys

xxxxx