Diary of an adult runaway

Cramer should have known better

So yesterday I was going to have a whine about Jim Cramer whining on the Today Show about how mean Jon Stewart was. I got sidetracked by another whine and this morning decided I'd had enough of Cramer and Nadya whatserface (I can't say Octo-whatever-they're-calling-her because it just sounds wrong, like she's some kind of beast and whatever you may think of her--and I don't think you can include me as a supporter--she's not a beast) so I wasn't going to watch the Today Show.

Actually, that's a lie--my ADSL filter kept going down so the vodcast timed out and I turned instead to the latest Daily Show episode I had downloaded.

Ohhhhh, Lordie.

The Daily Show With Jon StewartM - Th 11p / 10c

Basic Cable Personality Clash Skirmish '09

Daily Show Full Episodes
Important Things With Demetri Martin

Political Humor
Economic Crisis

And I thought the first installment was funny. But Dora the Explorer? Priceless! And, uh, showing footage of Cramer smacking the clown horn after calling Stewart a comedian? Heh. (For a more serious assessment of CNBC's problems, go here.) Cramer, please, Morning Joe? That's the best you can do?

Oooh, wait, I just read he's going on the Daily Show tonight. Folks, set those Tivos! I take back the skirts comment. Dude's got cojones. Still, you know, wrong, but it'll definitely be worth watching.

While we're talking about jackasses (hey! Dora said it!), I think it's fair to say I'm already hooked on this season's Dancing With The Stars. Steve-o was actually pretty good. And the Woz and Ty Murray--sweethearts both. Best line ever to come out of a contestant, though, has to go to Lil' Kim: "The first time I saw Dancing With The Stars was when I was in prison." Girl can dance, too.

Oh yeah, this season's going to be fun!

Of mice and men

Let's start with the mice.

The mouse chez moi seems to have disappeared. No sounds for a few days and Pumpkin has lost interest in the book case. That leaves a few possibilities:

1. It died of starvation, but I can't smell anything, so...

2. The cats got it, but I haven't discovered any entrails, so...

3. It left the way it came in, however that was. Good idea, because there's no easy food to be had.

Maybe it moved to Pigalle métro. A friend always tells me there's millions of them in the system but in three years of looking for the mythical plague, I've only ever seen one little mouse. Until now. Now, with less trains running and less people on the platform, I spend my time waiting for the train by counting the mice skipping along the rails. Aren't those things supposed to be deadly? The mice don't seem to care. They're having a field day down there.

And onto the men. We're in Day 9 of the strike and things are a little better. There are more métro trains running and more buses, but it's still a crush, especially in Hell, aka Place de Clichy. People are pretty much resigned. Being crushed is the new norm, and now I hardly bother holding on; I just count on the throng of people to keep me upright. I've yet to speak to anyone who thinks the government should back down. Probably because a lot of people in the private sector have given up some rights to get this country moving and they think now it's the public sector's turn.

Oh, yes, more protests. Yesterday, about 7,000 buralistes took to the streets. They're the people who run the cigarette stands in cafés, and they're unhappy about the smoking ban that comes into effect January 1st. They're saying they've already lost business because of the tax rise on cigarettes, to which I say tax those fucking things right out of existence! Kinda glad I'll be out of the country for the changeover, because I'm sure there'll be some fisticuffs, although considering about 60% of the population is for the change, maybe it won't be that bad.

Speaking of fisticuffs, we knew this one was coming. Jacques the Shark (Chirac) is under investigation for fraud. The justices have been waiting years for this one, because you can't investigate a French president. But as soon as he's out of office...

Some things that caught my eye this week:

What the well-dressed 16ème kids are wearing (aka, how come the kids get the prettiest stuff?)

A building near my office

Why Keris absolutely ROCKS. On a wet, windy day when I was out of reading material and snacks, this turns up and saves my life. And I know the Peanut Butter and Banana Crème Cups are collector pieces, but I gobbled them down. The King would understand. Hell, he woulda fought me for them. But he would have lost.

A closer look at the card because I can't stress enough how me it is. All it lacks is a coupla cats hanging off the back of the sofa.

What else? Oh yeah, Redford has copped it for speaking out against Mitt Romney, because apparently actors aren't supposed to have political views--but oh no, we're hanging on their every word for the important stuff, such as which handbag they're carrying and who designed their dress and are they really fighting with so-and-so? Hey, I'm a bag freak, but come on. So keep it up, Sundance. And good on Clooney for taking on the paparazzi.

News I'm tired of: the "shocking" new revelation that Princess Diana might have lived had she been taken straight to the ER. Chrissakes, they've been talking about this for 10 years, when are they going to stop dragging it up? Guess it sells papers.

News that made me feel very lucky at the same time that it made me cry: 9-year-old Nick Nelson made a really tough decision. Bless you, Nick, and good luck.

TV that made me smile: Natalie Gauci and Matt Corby made the Australian Idol finals. Both excellent performers, though I think Nat might have just pipped Matt on Sunday's show. And Marie Osmond danced her way through to the Dancing With The Stars final. Okay, maybe danced and smiled her way through. After the time she's had of late, that smile is a thing of beauty. And to see Donny on his feet, tears in his eyes, last week, made me sooky, too. I grew up with Donny & Marie, of course I want to see her do well! But who do I want to win? Mel B. and Maks.

TV that didn't make me smile: Weeds. So Nancy decides she needs a new start and torches her house--thus undoubtedly destroying other people's homes in the process. Nice one, Nance.

TV that continues to delight me: Dexter. How is he going to get out of this one without killing either Lundy or Doakes? Of course, I think he should kill that crazy bitch Lila, before she goes after Rita and the kids.

Today, 44 years ago: JFK. Today: Thanksgiving. Take care, you all.

Damn she can dance!

And she looks pretty good, too. Not to mention Maks.

Stop me before I kill someone (like, say, oh, Meredith GREY!)

Ok, if you read anything more about Grey's Anatomy on this blog, you're welcome to come over and slap me silly. Because that's what I feel like doing to myself for sitting through that season finale. Why did I even watch it? Because I really like Addison, I think she's an excellent character, and fingers crossed that the non-spin-off becomes a spin-off (come on, Shonda, what's with the disingenuousness?), if only so I get to perv on Tim Daly.

But Meredith, Cristina, Izzie, George, Alex, Derek? We are done. DONE! Come on. Meredith whines to Derek about him just going ahead and dumping her and he says he's not going to but she's got to stop running off so she runs off? Though I guess he just gave her permission to do so, so why the hell shouldn't she? Then BURKE runs off? (He may as well keep going, what with the whole faggot comment crap.) Derek turns down the chief's post? The chief accepts that and stays chief, after what he's just gone through with his wife, whose main complaint about him was the time he dedicated to his job? George DOESN'T pass his exam? His wife DOESN'T beat the shit out of Izzy? Oh, and Bailey--BAILEY DOESN'T MAKE CHIEF RESIDENT??? *

(I fail to see how Oprah can say she loves this show yet she thinks romance novels are unrealistic and offer false hope to women.)

I wish this: that Shonda hands over Addison to someone who won't sacrifice her character for some cheap season finale gasps somewhere down the line. I found the L.A. people much more interesting than the Seattle Grace whingers, esp. Amy Brenneman and that cute surfer boy. Get Addison a tan, I say! And get her laid. By Tim Daly.

Okay, maybe I'm just unhinged because it was not a good week in reality TV land. Yau-man, gone. That Dreamz certainly was dreaming if he thought screwing over Yau was going to land him a million bucks. And Melinda, gone. GONE. WHAT IS UP WITH THAT???? Nothing personal against Blake, but come on, REALLY? I was all ready to have a self-righteous fit if I hit the trifecta, but settled down when Laila Ali made it through to the finals of Dancing. I love Laila, especially when she starts her "The CHAMP is here!" talk. Try saying that to yourself when you're feeling low and you'll perk right up. Fake it until you make it, I say.

And continuing with the whole "You watch too much TV" routine (do not!), I'm making an Australian movie DVD for my French office mate. So far, I've got Strictly Ballroom, Priscilla, Muriel's Wedding and Chopper. Strictly and Chopper are 2 of my all-time faves, though I wasn't interested at all when they were first released. Strictly I ended up seeing because I was at loose ends one Sunday afternoon, and found myself in the cinema a few hours later, standing and applauding like the rest of the audience. Chopper was a film my brother said I had to see, so he made me rent the DVD one day and I laughed and laughed until tears ran down my face. What's so funny about a self-confessed stand-over man who cuts off his own ears? Well, no one really knows what Chop did or didn't do (except yeah, cutting off his ears, we know he did that), whether he really killed people or just made everyone think that so they'd keep away from him, and Eric Bana is such a brilliant mimic that you swear it's Chopper speaking. The scene where he shoots Nevil (a.k.a. Nevil fucken Bartos, played to wog perfection by Vince Colosimo) for the second time then takes him to the hospital, while telling the cops he did no such thing because that would defeat the purpose of shooting him in the first place is my favorite, followed closely by the flashing in the bar, with the cop yelling "Fuck's sake, put it away, Chop!"

Chopper Read:

Eric Bana as Chopper Read:

 

Eric Bana as Eric Bana (much better!):

Yep, you can argue that this film glorifies violence (although anything that Rupert Murdoch and FOX object to can't be that bad, considering their track record--Fox News, anyone?) and Lord knows, with over 30 people killed in the Melbourne underground violence of the last decade, that's not a great thing. But I loved it for how absolutely Australian it was, just as I love the other films for the same reason. There's a level of subversiveness that I connect to, just as there's a recognition of our quirks and foibles. With Strictly, it's more than that--there's a great tenderness in this film, especially with Scott's father. All use very strong Australian accents to ground them and no one's got that Hollywood hair and makeup thing going on--except the boys in Priscilla. It's not surprising that dancing features in 3 of the films and ABBA in 2, and that there are a lot of bar scenes.

2 more films I want to copy for her: The Hard Word (Guy Pearce, Rachel Griffiths and Joel Edgerton are outstanding in this, with my favorite line being when Joel Edgerton says with relish, after he's asked if he enjoys being a bank robber, "Truthfully? I fucken LOVE it!") and Erskineville Kings, which I think is Hugh Jackman's finest work. And maybe some Secret Life Of Us, too. And The Nugget. Oh, and let's not forget The Castle. Hmm, and maybe there's room for some Kath & Kim, too.

My office mate might not understand it, but oh, the giggles I'll have!

More blathering!

Ah-yup, I'm back for more! What's on my mind today:

The man who lives at the bus stop on Avenue Kléber has disappeared once again. When he came back after his last 2-week absence, it was with his beard shaved off, a disconcerting red tone to his skin, and the disappearance of his worldly goods. I notice he soon re-accumulated things--though in a very orderly, dignified fashion. This time around he had a little burner that he could cook and make coffee on, and I'd often see him in the mornings, brewing a pot and chatting to people waiting for the bus. He hasn't been there all this week. People have left him little bouquets of muguet (Lily-of-the-Valley), a tradition on Labor Day.

I haven't seen the well-dressed hooker who's often perched on a bus stop along Bld Courcelles all week, either. In a perfect world, these pair would have run off to Provence together. We can only hope.

Very sad news, Part I: it's chilly today, and will be all weekend.

Very good news, Part I: it's another 4-day weekend for me!

Very sad news, Part II: one of my super-duper, back-in-shape nails broke yesterday so I made the tough decision to file them all down

Very good news, Part II: I'm now typing like a sumbitch, and am no longer fretting about looking like that Lee Redmond woman with the 10-foot nails. Though, it'd get me invited onto Ellen, so it's worth considering for the future.

Very sad news, Part III:

This is the real foot of a real woman. She even has shoes made specifically to accommodate these. No folks, I do not make this shit up. But I'm not sure why visions of Coneheads are dancing through my head at the moment. Something to do with that big toe. (It's not just me, right?)

Very good news, Part III: My office mate (she of the Deep/Depp fame) and I are taste-testing chocolates and we believe we have a winner. Last week we tried the Monoprix Light chocolate, with Sorbitol instead of sugar, and at first it tasted great then about 20 minutes later we both felt like throwing up. Today we bought 2 others: Lindt Chocolat au Lait Fondant and Monoprix Gourmet's Equateur Fondant Chocolat au Lait (Max Havelaar fair-trade brand). The Monoprix one is absolutely deeeeelish. We had 2 squares each and then bit into a square of the Lindt and almost spat it back out because it was too sweet and somewhat greasy. Score one for fairtrade!

(P.S. My new favorite coffee, Starbuck's Café Estima, is also fairtrade.) (PS. I've found the best Starbucks in Paris for writing and no, I am NOT SHARING!)

Okay, Jamie Durie. When I was in my late teens/early 20s, back in the dazzling social whirl of RockVegas, my best friends were the Kondilis sisters: Koula, Katina and Eva. If you were friends with one set of Greeks, you knew all the Greeks and got invited to all sorts of fun gigs--even though I was a Skip (Australian). Didn't mean you remembered them all, so let me see if I can get this straight here. Koula's brother, Taki (Sokrates) was married to Voula, who came from the Gold Coast. Her sister Toula (again, not making this up--yes, I knew Koula, Voula and Toula, and I think there was also a Soula running around somewhere) was dating someone...here's where it starts to get hazy. I can't remember if she was dating Bill, the guy who started Manpower, or if she was dating one of his friends or brother or cousin...coulda been cousin, whatever. Alls I know is that when they came to RockVegas or if I went to the Gold Coast, we'd hang out by default. So one night I'm at the Flamingo...

Oh.My.God! Did I just write "The Flamingo" in my blog?? You have to know that place to hate it. There were about 3 places in Rocky to hang out, all within gutter-crawling distance. There was the...hmm, forgotten, the one about 2 blocks down from the Flamingo. Upstairs, dodgy, I remember kissing some guy there the night of my social (prom) while Blue Monday was playing very loudly. Oh! That's also the place where I kissed [blank] and to this day--to. this. day--I can remember the softenss of his lower lip against mine. Then you had...shit, I can't remember the name of that one, either, except that it was upstairs from a pub and my brother was the DJ and would play the coolest shit in town and give me and the Greeks free bottles of bubbly and believe me, there were tons of us. (Did it start with ST... something like Starz? Or was it Tracks? Man, my memory's shot. Too many JDs and Cokes.) Oh, and yeah, there was another one up the other end of downtown, but that wasn't as easy to get to.

I found this pic of the Famingo, right next to the Heritage Tavern. Good God.

I also found this pic of this community use building, where we had a 24-hour dance-a-thon when I was 13 and I lasted the whole 24 hours, sometimes sitting out by the river to cool down/wake up. It was the same year that Off The Wall was released, and to this day I can't hear "I Wanna Rock With You" without thinking of that night/day, and how I went to sleep at my grandmother's when it was finished and she had to keep getting up throughout the night to put me back into bed because I was sleep-dancing.

ANYWAY!!! The thing was, every Friday and sometimes Saturday nights, the Greeks and I would go out dancing. Yes, there was some drinking involved but usually, we just loooooooved to dance. And lemme tell ya something--we were fucking good. We were "you'd better get off the dance floor because we're coming through and we are goooooooood." Which means maybe we weren't as good as we liked to think, though I do remember actual moments of dancing on tables and another of climbing onto the stage at the Flamingo and dancing on the speakers with the dance floor cheering me on and then someone coming up to me (after security had told me, in no uncertain terms, to get down) and asking me to choreograph some event for them. Jesus, what was that about?

ANYWAY, PART 2!!! The Flamingo. It was considered the trendiest place in town for some, the boganest for others (others being my brother, who was considerably cooler) (I have to say that--he gave me booze). It was the kind of place that could go from playing the latest house track to AC/DC's "You shook me all night long" and you could hear the roar from 2 miles away. It was massive and noisy and grotty and your feet stuck to the carpet when you walked and there was always some snotnosed footballer who thought he was the shit, but it was also fun. (I'll save my "the night my friend Lynda and I slept at the Flamingo and went to work the next day in the same cloths story for another time, okay?)

And it's also where I met Jamie Durie. If I went into the Flamingo today (does it still exist?) I could show you the exact table and where he sat and where I sat, and not because he was Jamie Durie, just because this kid made such an impact on me. He wasn't even "Jamie Durie" then. In fact, even though I was mixed up with the Greeks, I have this feeling that he wasn't at the time. For some reason, I have the feeling this was pre-Manpower days. Alls I know is I was sitting at the table with my friends and he was sitting there with his friends and everyone except us got up to dance, so we started talking. I remember he was in the club even though he was underage, and when I asked him what he did, he said he was a male stripper (so could it have been pre-Manpower days? Maybe not). And I'm like, "Ok, cool" and we chatted for God knows how long. He was probably 17, I was 21, and he was such a nice, natural kid that I remembered him. Then one day I saw Manpower on TV and I said, "Hey, that's that kid!"

So there you have it. And here you have a shout back to what I was talking about yesterday--Jamie Durie from Manpower days:

Mummy, that man's stomach scares me! Really, I keep thinking Alien when I see a stomach like that, I'm waiting for something to burst forth. And the hair. Although...I'm digging the arms. (What, me, hypocritical? No, let's just say "Complicated.")

And now we have Jamie Durie from his post-Manpower days:

Mmm, much better now, thank you very much. 

All right, one last thing about bodies and then I'll go away. But can I just say I have a girl crush on Laila Ali? No, no, more accurately, I, a 5' even white girl, want to be a 5'10" black girl and dance like she does. Carrie Anne was right: momma said knock you out!

And that, folks, is that. Enjoy your weekend!

Shhh, don't tell anyone!

...but I have like a teeeeeeny crush on Billy Ray Cyrus. Come on! How could I not, after this week's Dancing With The Stars? He can take the piss out of himself and he danced really well. And how gutsy is Heather Mills, doing a back walkover? As for Laila Ali, like her dad, she's a joy to watch. (Nice to see Robbie Williams there with his boyfriend.)

Speaking of joys, every year the maternelle next to me has a party and all the kids and quite a few parents dress up and parade around the streets with a Dixie band. On Saturday, there were princesses and super heroes and boy wizards galore going off. You can't see much, but here's a little video anyway:

Kids' party in Montmartre
Video sent by gabriellel66

Another joy to watch. Well, kinda. I finally got my hands on the last 4 seasons of The West Wing. Yes, La Maison Blanche is on TV here, but there's no way in hell I'm going to listen to the French mangle the snappy dialogue, or have someone else dub in Martin Sheen's laugh. But was the dialogue so snappy that I missed something at the end of Season 4? It's pretty much agreed that Sam's going to lose the California election and they're going to give him a promotion. And then it's just dropped, no more mention of him. And ok, the new guy, not his fault that he's not Rob Lowe, but there's no way in hell he could ever replace Sam Seabourn. Yeah, I know this is old news to the rest of the world, but I'm still trying to get over the shock. Did they think we wouldn't notice? Thank God for Brothers & Sisters, is all I can say.

 

What I did while I was watching The West Wing:

What I made while I wasn't: my own cleaner! Yes, I am definitely living the high life in the big city. But did you know that the air in the average house is 5 times more polluted than outside, and a good part of that comes from the "cleners" we use? So I whipped up 1 part vinegar, 1 part water and enough grapefruit essential oil to take away the vinegar smell, and now my apartment is sparkling--even the windows. And hey, if you're not worried about poisoning the waterways with chemical run-off, or keeping your pet's paws free from chemicals, then maybe saving money floats your boat: this costs about a buck a gallon. Huzza!

P.S. To the guy who called Nova100 in Melbourne saying he puts his car in the garage so he can surreptitiously wash it while Stage 3A water restrictions are in place: yeah, good one. Because of course your car being shiny is much more important than people having enough water to drink. And yeah, I might sound like (gasp!) a greenie, but when I spent a good part of Friday editing a publication with an article on just how dire this situation is, there's nothing even remotely clever about what he's doing. Grow up, dude.

What I'm loving: Starbucks' Cinnamon Dolce Latte. Combine with a turkey Croque Monsieur for a perfectly intense Sunday writing session. Double huzza!